(Chapter 1)

A fever chill runs down the spine of the crooked face man. As he looks at his blood on the table set before-the very gift he'll find himself throwing back at his partners....Greed and lust of his angry pity fill this defunct mind,for he can't wait to find himself alone in his dark world of selfish flames,eating at him and eating at him beyond all control...a blister of suicide in the making

Meanwhile,an old man on the other side of town sits and talks with his corrupt peers after eating his best cut meat...."Anyways,yes the things I hear and say are true..But really now,do you expect me to believe that an Empire will be built out of a scum pit?!..Of coarse not!"..a brother replys "But thats all that this radical talks about..A new city,and a change a life for the better..Whatever..I've heard these poems and hymns before,And I hate it all.." and they sit their with their glutton stomachs agreeing with what was said..
..For tonight,they will soon try and sound out their greatest fear..this radical of poor fame in their eyes..