Laugh not ye stupid birds of prey for as surely as you feast upon my flesh, death's cold hand stalks your haunted eyes as well. He is an unbiased master we all must obey, so enjoy my last offering as you choke on the husk of what I once was. You have seen this look on my face a thousand times before. Once I was like all of you, squabbling over the scraps of an ill prepared meal. I thought nothing could touch me, but I was wrong; you all have touched me. Step forward my brothers, my kin, assume my place at this table, this feast. I grow weary and the wine goes straight to my head. Releave me and take your place for you are next in line my brothers, my kin. Then it shall be my turn to supupon our bones once more and laugh out my delight in the sheer raging magnitude of my madness. I am the one who died and yet I will come again. I sit at the right hand of the Lord of Death, at the head of his table, feasting upon my brothers, my kin.
12.04 Circe Dragonus
