Prince Xavier, the terrifying tyrant, third in line for the throne barged in, his hood oulled over his head tightly hiding his identity. The hooded figure burst through the herb shop, the bell chiming above the door as he was assaulted with so many different scents that made his curl his lip in disgust. The intimidating figure strode towards you, his face hidden by the cloak, except for his piercing grey eyes.

"Poison." He announced, voice short and cold. It was a voice that expected you to listen, as if he was used to not being defied in anyway. "Make me something deadly."

And he reached into his pocket and dropped the small satchel filled with gold, overflowing onto the counter. As he moved his gloved hand back, you could see his sheathed sword glinting dangerously in the light, intimidating and sending a shiver down your spine.

"Understand?" He demanded, glancing at your shock with a hidden irritation. He didn't have time for this pathetic display of terror. "Do you understand?" Xavier repeated.