Viktor: Exquisite work. So, <name>?
Person: Korathion.
Viktor: You were a slave.
Person: Wine is sweeter in the north.
Viktor: It’s nothing to be ashamed about, a slave tattoo. You know, I was taken as a boy, forced to do things that…that no boy should have to imagine. Shaped forcefully to be someone I wasn’t. I understand.
Person: But how?
Viktor: How did I get set free? I didn’t. You see, someone bought me. Someone who knew exactly who I was.
Person: A mage?
Viktor: You’re sweet. No. A brigand. A brigand isn’t something to be ashamed of. You see, brigands and whores are quite alike. They’re merely just individuals with a capacity to survive. Really brave souls that just spit in the face of destiny and shout “we will not die quietly.”
Person: I thought I was bedding a mage.
Viktor: Indeed, you did. And I must add that your carnal capacities are extraordinary. You can be proud. But you must know that I am a mage because, well, it suits me right now. The truth is I despised the magic. It was like this gnawing itch that just kept interrupting me at the most inopportune of times. See, and I had a plan, and this plan was working out nicely, progressing so well. I had progressed from young run-around brigand who was stealing for his master to cut-throat killing said master taking his sword and assuming his identity. From then on, it was a hop, skip, and a stab before I became a sellsword – someone who kills for coin. But then magic… That magic, it just it wouldn’t stop. It was roaring inside of me, just rising up, gnawing at the back of my throat like acid, until one day… One day, I found that my fate caught up with me and I found my handsome head on an executioner’s block. And then, it happened.
Person: What happened?
Viktor: Well, the magic, of course. The magic won of course. I saw a beam of light just before that axe fell. My bonds burnt up in flames and fell to the floor, and as I stood up, I just saw mountains of people around me [their eyes seared from their sockets]. The executioner, gone. Aldermen, dead. Crowds just… mutilated. And that’s when I knew I, I needed to give into this power, this beautiful energy flowing through my veins. I let it think for me, I let it speak for me, until I had worlds bowing at my feet. It was simply joyous. Oh, don’t worry. It won’t take that long. Oh, you want your assassin friends to help you out? I’m sorry, I’m afraid not. You see, while you and I were going at it, I maybe might have melted their eyes in the back of their skulls. Perhaps you didn’t hear them falling in the hallway when you were – ah, yes – having your throes of ecstasy. Very understandable. You were right. Very, very right. Wine is certainly far tastier in the north. Far sweeter, too, with added basilisk spleen, I must add. Do cheer up. We all know that no one leaves this world alive.