Little Miss Fortune

Your brother is a WHAT?

I am telling you the truth.

Werewolf. Right. If that’s the truth, then –

I AM PINOCCHIO! I AM ALIVE! I CAN SING! I CAN CHANGE THE WORLD!
Truth and Myth: A Secret Diary Entry by Veritas

His name means “Wolf”. And he lived up to it.
He was the only family I knew. He is five years older than I am, reckless, quick-tempered and irrationally protective of his “little sister”. He left school for the streets because he said he will not learn things sitting down. He sought the wild, found himself among the lawless, survived one brawl after the next. The bloodthirsty hunted him down, and he fought them all – sometimes winning, sometimes losing, always living to fight the next fight. Those who respected him for his grit and mettle fought with him, and soon, he was surrounded by his own pack.
I, on the other hand, stayed at home, surrounded by computers. He won’t have it otherwise.

As my brother’s comrades grew in number, the pack became became braver and fiercer. They became obsessed with bloodsports and staged the most brutal underground cage fights, watched avidly by the wealthy and perverted. They experimented with dangerous substances, and discovered a drug that made them stronger and faster. With it, they became monsters at the arena – ruthless, fearless, invincible. That drug, they called Full Moon, and my brother’s pack, they became known as the Lycantroops.
In Flight

Transcribed from the second letter of the Black Rose dated 14 March 2006 to Uno of Mistula:
Dear Lord Uno,
Thank you for your kind message.
It pains me to hear of Lord Dragan’s intentions to leave the band. I, too, believe that it is too early for his final bow. Maybe the Lord Lugosi, who led him to Mistula, can change his mind? Worry not: our disciples are searching for Lord Lugosi as I pen this letter. I hope they do not reach him a tad too late.


