Blood of Tar

Alexander was a mystery. A really strange one, at that. But he was fun to be around, jovial and witty, so it was easy to forget the many gaps and holes, to overlook the wrinkles of the person, and simply look at the fun, colourful picture presented at the surface. That was harder to manage, however, when he stayed up past midnight practicing spells for the sake of vengeance, or when he held a hammer and spike against a creatures throat to do what he claimed had to be done. And yet... and yet those who knew him best, who knew of the creases, could not help but think that deep down, there was something good. Something fun, and kind, and generous. The only question was how deep, and through what, they would have to dig to find that person. And what they would find in the process.