Tygus

Tall he was, standing at 6ft2” with thick, lithe muscles to match, giving him a toned, athletic appearance. A mop of curled, sandy blonde hair rested lightly on his head, often in a slightly dishevelled, careless manner, yet somehow the slightly scruffy aspect made it look all the more attractive. Bright blue eyes the colour of a deep forest pool centred his face which was dominated by two large, poignant cheek bones. In all, one could consider that he was quiet the handsome man.

I long the days of peace, the moments of calmness. Those days when I were not oblidged to look over my shoulder, in case a knife came flying by. People fear me. People knew they had better not lay a finger upon me, lest it would be eradicated from its root. Though now, new enemies arose, powerful and proud, vexing pathetic excuse of mannish intelligence.  I speak of Slavers.

I need not tell you just how many fools exist in the world. They are numerous. Everywhere I look I see another fool. Take my little pet Tygus for example. He was foolish enough to think he could take Redain on his own. Little Caspier Redain who caused me so much trouble. "The best slaver" as they used to call her. They were right. She was good. Was being the operative word. Still, she is not good now. Crazy foolish wench that she is. Tygus took her and lost her and got himself mutilated by that Favarth fool in the process.

My mind is shattered.

I cannot express the grief that I am experiencing. Only my anger overcomes it.