HANAERUM
“f**k!” Kain groaned, as his little toe bumped into the foot of his custom made leather couch.
He stumbled backwards and knocked over one of his priceless clay vases, dropping his glass tumbler filled with Scotch on his expensive imported rug.
Could this day get any worse? He wondered.
He tried to recall a time when his life hadn’t consisted of drinking himself into a staggering mess but it was hard with the pain from his toe ringing through his brain. He vaguely remembered calling for a servant to clean up and pour him another cup of Scotch.
His mind was in a constant spiral as the Elves, which he thought could help him, seemed to not think his problems important enough. He had been ordered not to make a move.
"Bastard! May his p***s be cut off and fed to pigs!"
Another
