Alexander’s Lament

I grow tired of the voices. Here I sit in a den of villainy. Pirates, smugglers, and thieves surround me, carousing the night away. No discipline, no poise. These are men who kill that which ruins their fun and profit. Of all of my disguises this is the one I think I despise the most. The eye patch and gold tooth, the salt and the fish scales rubbed into the clothing. I hate acting like them. I hate pretending I’m one of them. I’ve wordlessly slain worthy kings with less revulsion. And somehow that frightens me – but just a little bit. Among these sea dogs drift my ever-present companions, my curse. The ghostly figure of Captain T’Panga struts about the tavern, a practiced look of distaste and revulsion on his face. I have yet to see the noblest of...