Oblivion / Книги
~ Perfumed Letter ~
Finally, somebody sees me for what I am. I'll admit I was taken aback by their approach - a paralysis spell hardly seems like a proper token of respect, but I've given it some thought and they probably didn't think I would willingly associate myself with them. In fact, they were probably right to do so.
If I hadn't been paralyzed while they carried me away, they probably knew I'd have called my army of flying scamps to chew their eyes out.
But here I am, and I have to be honest; I was beginning to worry that the world didn't appreciate me until now. These guys get it. They've brought me all the cured meats I can eat, and I can scarcely empty a cask of wine before another is rolled into my room. Oh, they don't get too close. They know. A wayward glance from me could break their spines.
They needn't worry, of course. I know why I'm here. I saw all the other combatants. They heard of me, Beldring - the Grand Champion of the Felgourad Arena and favored bodyguard to Emperor Kinpo and his thousand-feathered cap. Of course they'd want to see me become the Champion of the Shivering Isles as well. So I train, and they bring me all the equipment I need to do it.
I don't think it will be much longer, now. No, I'll peel the skin off my enemies for the glory of Palgania, and the entertainment of these servants who have been so dutiful in their desire to witness my grandeur.