[ It's only fair now that Roderic has told him something, so he will give a piece of himself in return. It's what friends do, after all.
So he closes his eyes, a soft sigh before he begins. His voice is the same monotone as ever, though by the look of his eyes Roderic can probably tell it means a lot to him. ]
A long long time ago, France was ruled by a King and Queen. The King and Queen ran the country and had nobles under them, who would carry out their decrees. Some were born into nobility, others gained their titles due to their service to the court. They employed musicians, artisans, soldiers and the like, as well as servants to the public.
[ A pause. ]
Amongst those hired for their services was a family of executioners. They carried out their duty in line with the laws and decrees, and the craft was passed down from father to son. There were six of them in total, all who have walked the path that their duty dictated. By accepting this creed, they too accepted that their hands would be stained with the blood of many.
[ A longer pause this time. He sounds emotional, almost - a colour in his voice rarely heard, and yet still unreadable, and he closes his ice-blue eyes. ]
The sixth and the last helped push for the use of the guillotine. He played his role as his family name dictated, and he was shunned for his hands which had killed thousands in the name of justice. Yet each day he pushed his ingenuity to reduce the fear and suffering of those sentenced to die. France then went up in revolution, and he was forced to kill the Queen that gave him his role.
[ At this point he opens his eyes - sadness, determination and hopefulness all at once. ]
That man... was me. I am Charles-Henri Sanson, Royal Executioner of France.
no subject
So he closes his eyes, a soft sigh before he begins. His voice is the same monotone as ever, though by the look of his eyes Roderic can probably tell it means a lot to him. ]
A long long time ago, France was ruled by a King and Queen. The King and Queen ran the country and had nobles under them, who would carry out their decrees. Some were born into nobility, others gained their titles due to their service to the court. They employed musicians, artisans, soldiers and the like, as well as servants to the public.
[ A pause. ]
Amongst those hired for their services was a family of executioners. They carried out their duty in line with the laws and decrees, and the craft was passed down from father to son. There were six of them in total, all who have walked the path that their duty dictated. By accepting this creed, they too accepted that their hands would be stained with the blood of many.
[ A longer pause this time. He sounds emotional, almost - a colour in his voice rarely heard, and yet still unreadable, and he closes his ice-blue eyes. ]
The sixth and the last helped push for the use of the guillotine. He played his role as his family name dictated, and he was shunned for his hands which had killed thousands in the name of justice. Yet each day he pushed his ingenuity to reduce the fear and suffering of those sentenced to die. France then went up in revolution, and he was forced to kill the Queen that gave him his role.
[ At this point he opens his eyes - sadness, determination and hopefulness all at once. ]
That man... was me. I am Charles-Henri Sanson, Royal Executioner of France.