“Greed is fat demon with small mouth. For no matter how much or how fast you feed that demon, it never will be satisfied.”
A wealthy farmer was well known for his thirst for acquiring wealth and once struck a deal with the elders of his village.
He would be granted the length of land he could walk in a day, as long as he could make his way back to where he started before sunset.
He set off early and walked through blazing sun to cover an impressive distance. Yet, when the afternoon sun had begun to lower, the man’s greed had taken him so far that realised he would not make it back in time.
Turning, he picked up his pace with an eye on the dangerously setting sun. The later in the day it became, the faster he ran, pushing himself beyond the point of exhaustion.
He finally returned just in time, so exhausted from his quest that he collapsed and died. All that the farmer now needed was only a small plot of land in which he would be buried.
‘Each man is provided enough to satisfy his need, but never his greed.’
You are the eternal mercenary, Albert Shaw.
Your greedy thirst for self advantage sees you always questing to serve the deepest pockets, those that will grant you the most power within the Slaughterhouse. Your loyalty lies to nothing more than that fat demon of greed.
But the more you have fed that demon, the more it yearns to be fed.
And with a mouth that small, its hunger will never truly be sated.
Your quest for your own greed almost cost you your son. It has led you down many a path that cast shadows over your soul.
And now, you have opened your next chapter in your quest to feed that beast. For mercenaries such as yourself seek only power, and I’d bet those Bad Mother Fuckers have offered you the horizon.
If only you can reach it.
You have wandered far and wide, yet in your quest you have made many enemies.
That list only grows with every handshake, with every golden ticket you punch for yourself.
BEG.
Nigel Royal.
Luke Storm, Zero and Pyre.
They’re not names that inspire good tidings.
They’re names that wind up with you seeking the sunset, only to push yourself past exhaustion in the process.
I only hope that you turn away from this ill-fated quest before the sun sets too low in the sky.
Or the only land you will require is that of the greedy farmer.
A small plot of land, enough for your early grave.
You have every opportunity before you to satisfy your need, but that greedy beast will never truly be fed.
It will continue to gnaw at you. More power, more wealth.
Until it eats away at everything you once were, or will ever become.
Relinquish the hold that beast has on your life, or it will become your end.
It’s merely a matter of… perspective.