Song of Ice and Fire, nice.
***
Weilding Ice, the blade of his forefathers, Sir Vampyr stalked the Keep, pondering the eyes of its guests. Being a master of reading people, he at once noticed the evil gleam shining in one of the peoples eyes who must be responsible.
Swinging Ice forward in one hand, he brought the tip of the blade within millimeters of the traitors neck, and loudly declared,
!vote Fyacin, the terrible assassin.
The hall dipped into silence as everyone turned to stare.