The clown was pretty gleeful today. He skipped along the snowy mountain path. Onwards to the castle where his Queenie awaited him. It was an exciting day, for all the games that they had played together had escalated into its crescendo. And from it, something spectacular was born. His queen, as destined for greatness as she was had founded a new faction amongst the society that was 'dark mages' — creating a guild that was known as Errings Rising, built specifically for the defiance of law and order. Allowing Jester to dabble in the chaos as much as he wanted, he would access to many lives to punish, without rhyme or reason he could do whatever he pleased. Caused suffering wherever he went, and it would all be in the name of The White Queen of Errings Rising.
As he skipped along, he was dressed in his usual 'clown-like' attire: white top and trousers, pink rings cushioning his waist, biceps and wrists. However what was out of place, was that in his right hand, he was holding a bundle of fabrics, wrapped around something, and tied together rather messily. He hummed a tune as he made his way towards the castle. The castle he was so utterly fond of now. For it was now the whole of some wonderful, horrific nostalgia. The massacring of several innocent peasants, it had been so wonderfully chaotic. If he paused for thought, he could still hear the delicious screams of the men whose limbs he hacked off with his magical deck of cards. He licked his lips at the thought of it; he could wait for the next bout of fun ahead. But for now, he needed to play a quieter game. To watch his Queens ascendance, as she claimed the throne she so desired.
As he arrived, it seemed everything was set up. He slid through the doors, entering the castle. He moved towards the room of which he knew his queen would be in. Yet as he strolled along, his golden eyes fell on her; elegant, graceful, nothing like the blood-spatter woman who had helped him carve away the lives of so many not long ago. It was a lovely facade, but Jester knew her true face, the manic eyes that sort to punish those who defied her with a wondrous lack of mercy. That was the face; he was fond of. She was singing softly, he smirked. As he approached, he fell to his knee rather dramatically.
"My Queen," He said silkily, head bowed. He brought the package up,
"An offering to you on your day of ascendance." Were the queen to open the package. She would find at first what appeared to be a severed arm. Bleed dry, rigid and blue, belonging to a wealthy woman the clown had recently encountered. However, this was not the gift; the gift was the bracelet on the wrist. Made of pure silver, it was encrusted with an assortment of sparkling diamonds; all surrounded a pink gemstone that was a similar hue to the woman's eyes. He had passed the woman a while ago and noticed the sparkling bracelet on her wrist. She had been some sort of noble apparently, well she
had been. Now she was a rotting body in a dumpster, arm haphazardly hacked off. Jester wondered idly if she had been discovered yet, maybe, maybe not. It didn't really matter to him, he'd gotten a gift for his Queenie and that was enough to satisfy him.