Dikk Dynamite

Oh sure, go ahead and blame me! Everyone else does! Is it my fault that I was born in a time of war? Am I to be held responsible for the acts of a drunken soldier? Was I the one that took advantage of a defenseless peasant woman? No!

If you hate me for what I am, blame my so-called father. Father, that�s a joke. The one good thing he did, was send me gold. I used it to hire the finest assassins in all the land. Not to kill my father, oh no that would not do at all; but to train me in their ways.

The first time I met my father no words were spoken. None were needed. I carefully awoke him and waited until I saw the look of horror in his. How his eyes widened when he saw the dagger in my hand, dripping with poison. Yes, the first time I met my father was the last and only time I ever saw him alive.

Do you hate me now? Good. Do you wish to stop me? I hope so. For I shall not rest until all bearing the name Tsepesh are no more!