The most simple of questions, and I cannot even answer it: who am I? I used to know, but I'm not so sure now. Some nights I remember, others are hazy, these memories... hidden from me by this new, darker side of me. It is a voice, perhaps several voices all layered into one buried into my troubled, fragile psyche.
It calls itself the Rat Prince, and it calls itself everything I want to be, yet can neither hope nor aspire to be without his help. I do not know how much of him comes from the Beast within me and how much is a reflection of my unconscious wants and desires...
This voice, this Rat Prince, is becoming harder and harder to ignore, particularly in the hours of twilight. His desires are becoming my own -I want the power he covets, I want to slake his lusts, I want to quell my oft growling stomach. Yes, meat... I need meat. Not the bread these Barovian troglodytes are feeding me in my cell...
As Old Night falls upon the grey city, and I sit here, bathed in my own blood, awaiting what would be my doom... it shall not be, for the Rat Prince shall ensure that I am not merely weak ol' Effelin.
I shall cease to be merely a halfling and will become, in time, a thing of magnificence - something even the bravest of men shall fear for its guile and cunning. In a world filled with wretches, ruled by tooth, fang, and claw, I shall be like a god!
