I seen what happens to folk with no hope left, or no money, or no food, and how it changes a lad. I seen how it makes them weary and easy bait for sharks and conmen and the worse sort of evil that simple humans bring. Slavers and turncoats have their reasons, but they made the choice. They don't deserve sympathy.

I also have dreams, fearful things and not, about folk betraying or hurting me. And if I woke from that dream with the thought, I better get meself some revenge on those cunts, I'd be even more a bell end than I already am.

But I understand some of you lot want revenge for your dreams. And if you daft cunts really need it, have it out. I killed more than I can proper remember in that bloody dream, and I enjoyed it. I was a monster in both, because I'm always the monster, but I'm sure you lot will only care for the one where I betrayed you, and I did. And I had fun with it.

For every one of you wants revenge on some bugger had the poor luck to end up in a dream where they hurt you, come at me. You lot get one hit each, open or closed hand, I don't care where. No weapons or gauntlets. I'll be in the training yard, easy as fuck to find: I'm the six foot bitch with red hair.

And if that don't satisfy you, will killing a fool really do it? Will rounding 'em up? Shunning 'em? Seeing as they ain't done you no harm but a nightmare.

And, Si? A word, mate.

Right, seein' as there's a general air about the place, I'm doin' my duty.

There's ale and beer in the mess hall, enough to get the lot of you drunk. Come and sort your shit out or come and get drunk. Don't much care which, but keep it peaceable if you please. And mind none of you clever ghosts make off with all of it.