vocabulary composition act 3

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The Death of Richard
Richard stood in the guardhouse, a tedious duty imposed on him by the count, who out of malevolence decided to give him the most tedious of duties in the whole castle. The count the most horrible kind of man you could think of, a treacherous scoundrel who murdered his own brother out of spite, just because he dared to say something about the way the count dressed. A madman, who did not think of anyone but himself.
The sun shined, and fell upon Richard, who was starting to feel the exhaustion and the weight of his chainmail upon his shoulders. His punishment was to stand guard there until he fainted, as the count refused to give him water. The county’s land was barren, as his subjects fled from the land, not willing to be oppressed by such a madman. Here Richard stood, dauntless in his task. Thinking of a day where he could finally kill him. Where he could finally be free. In the castle, the servers were eating, and the smell of food incensed all the place. If Richard had been able to produce some saliva, his mouth would have watered. But he could not, as the heat was slowly but surely taking its toll on him. He appalled, thinking of his death, but death would be a better option than to serve the count. Richard had no motivation, but the count had left a threat lingering in the air “You family lives nearby, they look unprotected, what if one day a man decided to kill them? I know you would not like …