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So much for wishes coming true this year, I guess. Fuck you, Orange County. And Fuck Santa, too.

They want me to work the damn Snowmen that are plaguing the area into the theme and decorations of their Christmas party. I know I'm good but even I have limits and trying to figure out how to control a snowman from some magic that I know nothing about is way beyond them.

So these Snowmen...they can't come through doors or anything can they? Because I've got one on my back porch staring through the door at me.

It would appear that I have been afflicted with the same madness as the rest of you.

My House, it seems, fell out of favor, and to recoup debts I was sold like chattel.

But our Empire's war did not go well, and I developed gifts which would prove useful against this Republic we fight.

So I was taken to an academy with others, though I do not believe the Overseer is at all enamored with the idea of a freed slave among his acolytes.

No matter. Either I succeed, and I am free. Or I perish, and still I am free. But in my dreams, I plan to live, and to thrive with the power I've been granted.

Though I must wonder at the structure of an Empire where the strong survive on the backs of the weak, and a shiv in the back is a constant worry. Such a structure is doomed to collapse eventually.

What do they call that? Klingon promotion?