Character: Dolph

Friends is such a prohibitive rarity, such an amazing gem...

Good deeds are always punished. But things are so good, like trying to save an innocent life is punishable twice. And then rescued from unimaginably difficult to get rid of.

To wear the crown easier and more enjoyable than them. So my father chose the first and not the second. The job of a ruler is heavy, dirty and ungrateful. Quiet days there. Honest vassals there. There is no order and never will be.

May all my friends and beloved to burn in hell, but I wouldn't trade eternal torment in their great company in Paradise alone.

They hated me for the pimples on the face and distorted figure. And I for facial expressions and poses. One of us had more right to hate? Me external. I for internal.

I do not cherish any illusions. I grew up with the little ugly bastard. Evil, and that the forest is vindictive, mean-spirited. But smart. I read and watched and read and watched. And everything I had read or seen was noted.

Powers of necromancy, say, like an ear for music. Perhaps.
Some passionately want to be singers and musicians, call the teachers, pay them gold per hour, spend a lot of time and efforts to make the most of the lute or flute in any harmonious sound, to no avail. Torment the ears of others. And their lackey hums, rubbing plates, and passers-by outside the window stopped to listen. A gift from above.

And so she swam a temple like a Lily from frost, a sharp diamond lights, pale as lace around her face - only her eyes, dark as sapphires, and they reflect the candle.

And I figured I may as well be dying - everything you love in the end.

They never asked me, whether I forgive them. And I did not forgive. And decided for myself: never leave alive those who hates me. And repentance to believe will not. All this nonsense for the blind.

Then my uncle invited me to dinner. And I said that will warm your wine, and for dinner I want to eat your hunting trophy - a hare has jumped out on road, can you imagine, dear uncle! Fried. Bought in the village. On your way never pop out roasted rabbits? And sometimes.

Because if you have to do something against the will, it is instantly converted into work. Even love.