So, you wish to learn about me, do you? May I ask why? Is there something I can do for you? Hmm?
Or did that accursed fool MacMogan send you to spy on me?
No matter. I can tell you a little about myself. I was born in a place ... well, let us merely say that I was born in a faraway land, not too far from a great Citadel. In the Citadel, weak, soft-bellied buffoons and quote-unquote "socialites" gorged themselves on wild fowl, grapes, and sweet wine. Meanwhile, those of us who actually know what it means to work and to suffer had to labour in the outlying areas, growing sick and dying in our thousands from blood fevers and general lack of will to live.
My parents--no, let me be clear. My
foster parents did the best they could to raise me under very negative
circumstances. Life is hard when all you have is the filthy rags you wear
on your back, eh? I buried my father before my thirteenth birthday.
My mother lay in the cold earth before I was twenty. I loved them, as hard
as that might be for you to believe. I did adore them. Though they
left me nothing, not even proper preparation for the world, I still think of
them every day--especially when the winds roll gently over the plains. It
reminds me of the fields my father and I used to work, and the exhilarating
feeling of having finished an honest day's toil. Yes, my father was a
true man. Now, he is indistinguishable from the dirt he used to work
with such pride.
Now, had I been born in the Citadel, my life would have been much different, no?
I would have been pampered, and dressed richly. I would have been given
proper schooling, and access to the healing arts. Yes, and I would have
been given my choice of the fat little harlots that gathered around the palace
in hopes of glimpsing some blueblood or another. How strange it is to
contemplate how one person's life might be valuable, and another's worthless,
simply due to circumstances of birth.
Let me put forth a hypothetical situation, mm? Imagine, if you will, that one of these vampires sucking on the lifeblood of the people, a king, for example, were to have a secret and forbidden dalliance with a peasant girl? Let us also imagine that the poor thing found herself with child soon after. No, no, we couldn't have that, could we? That little tart would have to be put down! The child could have its tiny head bashed against a stone, no? Yes, bash it! Muffle its cries and make it silent forever! None of the lily-white swine in their velvet cloaks and fine jewelry ever need know.
Such a noble ruler would also have to be careful that his foul-breathed, wool-headed henchmen properly finished the job. Yes, they would have to be very careful indeed! The child, well, the child might escape! Then what would happen?
One dares not imagine.
Ah, I digress. In any case, in time I learned that to survive I would have to make a few deals with some unsavory characters. What else was I to do, under such dire circumstances? A few bargains got me as far as Freeport, where I met some interesting individuals. Very knowledgeable chaps, if a little rough around the edges. They were the closest thing I had to friends, and they helped me find creative means of pursuing my studies.
My studies? None of your business, and I'll thank you not to ask.
In fact, you have become tiresome. I believe you can manage to find the door?
Oh, and one more thing, before you depart, if you would be so kind? When you see good Sir MacMogan, please relay a message from his old friend Crowley. Tell him that yes, as much as it makes me choke on my own bile, I am still bound to serve the cause of Order. Tell him, if you please, that should he have need of me, he need only ask. I would do anything, and I truly do mean that most sincerely, to exterminate the forces of Chaos from the universe for good.
I shall see them vanquished because then, at last, our alliance will be finished. Then things will be a little different between you and I, won't they, MacMogan? I shall laugh as I have never laughed before, as the towers of the Citadel crumble, the tapestries burn, and the feast squirms with maggots. By all these things, you will know that my vengeance has begun. When it shall at last be satisfied, even I cannot say for sure.
Be warned.
