"Beware the savage fiends of old,
Who drape themselves in red and gold,
Flee their swords of flame and light,
Before they reap your life on sight."
The nursery rhyme was nearly a century old, and there wasn't a single person who grew up in the Vale of Mists who hadn't heard it. No one could say which person had whispered it now, but even if they didn't hear the words, nearly half the people gathered in the great hall were thinking them as they saw the horrifying figure of a handsome, dark-haired man enter the hall wearing the red and gold robes of the Inquisition.