The Chronicle of the Black Sword

I suppose I should make a statement of my own actions with regard to the affair of Ardent and Narvin.

Having received word from Agent K that Narvin was missing, and that Ardent had expressed some displeasure with his warden, I went to Ardent's room, planning to meet Buffy and the Doctor there. I arrived first and heard sounds of a disturbance within. On entering Ardent's room, I was attacked by him, and in defending myself, I slew him. I regret this and shall make amends as needed.

[Yes, he has carefully left out all mention of Stormbringer. Also, at this point, he doesn't quite realise that he has a curse on his tail, or that he needs to put Ardent's soul back.]

[So, not only has Elric been nanomited; now there's a flood on. Yay? His demeanour is rather haughtier than usual; he is perhaps something more like the cold, old-fashioned Melnibonéan emperor his people would have liked.]

I wonder sometimes, my fellow wardens, if you are not too gentle with your inmates. In the days of the Bright Empire—well, in the days of the Bright Empire, the prospect of "redemption" would be an alien concept, if not entirely, riotously laughable. [The expression on his face suggests that it's still laughable.]

What, indeed, is the worst you can muster? A week in the cells below deck? And the prisoners are no doubt still fed, still clothed, still given a place to sleep.

[He leans back in his chair.] ( Cut for nightmare fuel confession )

[He stops, frowns slightly. He's pretty sure he didn't mean to rattle off that entire story. Then he shrugs.]

Proof, I expect, that anything can grow dull with use. Such behaviour was expected of me, after all.

[Then a sardonic smile.] Nonetheless, I assure you all that I do not endorse the good Dr Jest's measures for application here. But we are, perhaps, too gentle all the same. A matter to consider, perhaps.