“Of course, there would never be another Executioner Darkleer. Why would an empire want such a useless tool? Emotional fool, to take pity on the “enemy”? To spare a menace such as her in the name of “mercy” and “compassion”? That little problem had to be taken care of; Executioners are tools to wield, to smite and make examples of those destined for his cold hands and death’s loving embrace. The helmet was made to inspire pride that the young troll might resemble his once proud ancestor. He didn’t complain until the screws went in tight and broke that thick skull, accessing that clever mind allowing the wires inside. A small zap for every emotional outburst, every pain fueled whimper, every offense soon taught the troll to become silent, and compliant. Breaking a stallion took time, but it would be well worth the wait. He was young, with time he would become irreplaceable. The new Grand Executioner: Equius Zahhak. Long live the Empire!”
Like I’ve said before, I should never write. Ever. I was reading The Baths of All The Western Stars on Archive of Our Own, and it inspired me. As an executioner you have to have ice in your veins to kill and not become affected by it, nor show a sign of mercy. Even a war like race such as the troll’s own; eventually psychosis and serious sanity lapses would appear. One slip up and—as what happened to Darkleer himself—and you’re gone. So when Equius becomes of age he’ll be “made” into a better, more dedicated servant of the Empire. Afterall, emotions are such nasty little things aren’t they? They get in the way of what’s important. But this is all based on the speculation that he hadn’t died and all of course—and that the trolls had grown up.Enjoy! :)

“Of course, there would never be another Executioner Darkleer. Why would an empire want such a useless tool? Emotional fool, to take pity on the “enemy”? To spare a menace such as her in the name of “mercy” and “compassion”? That little problem had to be taken care of; Executioners are tools to wield, to smite and make examples of those destined for his cold hands and death’s loving embrace. The helmet was made to inspire pride that the young troll might resemble his once proud ancestor. He didn’t complain until the screws went in tight and broke that thick skull, accessing that clever mind allowing the wires inside. A small zap for every emotional outburst, every pain fueled whimper, every offense soon taught the troll to become silent, and compliant. Breaking a stallion took time, but it would be well worth the wait. He was young, with time he would become irreplaceable. The new Grand Executioner: Equius Zahhak. Long live the Empire!”

Like I’ve said before, I should never write. Ever. I was reading The Baths of All The Western Stars on Archive of Our Own, and it inspired me. As an executioner you have to have ice in your veins to kill and not become affected by it, nor show a sign of mercy. Even a war like race such as the troll’s own; eventually psychosis and serious sanity lapses would appear. One slip up and—as what happened to Darkleer himself—and you’re gone. So when Equius becomes of age he’ll be “made” into a better, more dedicated servant of the Empire. Afterall, emotions are such nasty little things aren’t they? They get in the way of what’s important. But this is all based on the speculation that he hadn’t died and all of course—and that the trolls had grown up.

Enjoy! :)

“Of course, there would never be another Executioner Darkleer. Why would an empire want such a useless tool? Emotional fool, to take pity on the “enemy”? To spare a menace such as her in the name of “mercy” and “compassion”? That little problem had to be taken care of; Executioners are tools to wield, to smite and make examples of those destined for his cold hands and death’s loving embrace. The helmet was made to inspire pride that the young troll might resemble his once proud ancestor. He didn’t complain until the screws went in tight and broke that thick skull, accessing that clever mind allowing the wires inside. A small zap for every emotional outburst, every pain fueled whimper, every offense soon taught the troll to become silent, and compliant. Breaking a stallion took time, but it would be well worth the wait. He was young, with time he would become irreplaceable. The new Grand Executioner: Equius Zahhak. Long live the Empire!”
Like I’ve said before, I should never write. Ever. I was reading The Baths of All The Western Stars on Archive of Our Own, and it inspired me. As an executioner you have to have ice in your veins to kill and not become affected by it, nor show a sign of mercy. Even a war like race such as the troll’s own; eventually psychosis and serious sanity lapses would appear. One slip up and—as what happened to Darkleer himself—and you’re gone. So when Equius becomes of age he’ll be “made” into a better, more dedicated servant of the Empire. Afterall, emotions are such nasty little things aren’t they? They get in the way of what’s important. But this is all based on the speculation that he hadn’t died and all of course—and that the trolls had grown up.Enjoy! :)

“Of course, there would never be another Executioner Darkleer. Why would an empire want such a useless tool? Emotional fool, to take pity on the “enemy”? To spare a menace such as her in the name of “mercy” and “compassion”? That little problem had to be taken care of; Executioners are tools to wield, to smite and make examples of those destined for his cold hands and death’s loving embrace. The helmet was made to inspire pride that the young troll might resemble his once proud ancestor. He didn’t complain until the screws went in tight and broke that thick skull, accessing that clever mind allowing the wires inside. A small zap for every emotional outburst, every pain fueled whimper, every offense soon taught the troll to become silent, and compliant. Breaking a stallion took time, but it would be well worth the wait. He was young, with time he would become irreplaceable. The new Grand Executioner: Equius Zahhak. Long live the Empire!”

Like I’ve said before, I should never write. Ever. I was reading The Baths of All The Western Stars on Archive of Our Own, and it inspired me. As an executioner you have to have ice in your veins to kill and not become affected by it, nor show a sign of mercy. Even a war like race such as the troll’s own; eventually psychosis and serious sanity lapses would appear. One slip up and—as what happened to Darkleer himself—and you’re gone. So when Equius becomes of age he’ll be “made” into a better, more dedicated servant of the Empire. Afterall, emotions are such nasty little things aren’t they? They get in the way of what’s important. But this is all based on the speculation that he hadn’t died and all of course—and that the trolls had grown up.

Enjoy! :)

Notes:

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    my Equius feel rampage
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