[center]Alexander sits back at the big dining-room table after dinner and responds to the hosts question. "Well, I suppose I'm fixen to hear the stories of these 'ere good people. I think that I may 'ave to talk myself first, so let me tell ya a tale of my own past.
"My 'Father', I call him my master most-times, left London when the good doctor Moreau got tied up in moral issues. Anyways, he moved to New York City and continued working on his experiments on the pretense of being a gentleman doctor. Once-times he was working with an orphanage and one of the lady's nearby had left a babe on the doorstep. That child was damaged on all fronts, a premature birth but somehow still alive. The master arrived latter that day and he was begged to take the babe off their hands. He was happy to do just that, a vivisection of such a young child had never been done and he had a fixen to do some work on the subject. When he returned home he learned that a fox his servant, a native from a western tribe, had had kits that day.
"My master had a brilliant idea, and began to prepare for extraordinary measures. He harvested the kits for organs, and one of them for the spine extraordinarily enough. He didn't believe the boy would survive long, so he allowed himself to create something he knew any other would think an abomination but he believed it to be beautiful. He left the tail on the spine of the boy, and even transplanted the claws of several of them into the boy's fingers. The boy's corneas and ears where both severe undeveloped so he replaced them the same. Surprisingly the boy survived a long time, long enough for the master to allow the noble savage servant to take care of him. In time the boy learned the language of the native's tribe and English, and he was to much a human when the master found out. The Native had thought of the boy as a great spirit, one of legend, and believed the master to be raising him to save humanity.
"The native died in an accident when the boy was six and the master fled west with the boy, where they eventually settled in a frontier ranching community. There the master first allowed the boy into society, finally naming him for a great general in the times of the ancients. At the age of ten the boy got a job as a ranch hand at the ranch of a local pariah, a Colonel who had defected after getting a serious injury in the war. The boy did good work for the Colonel, who paid him small change and taught him how to use a gun. One day the boy was out tending to the cattle and taking pot-shots at a target he and the Colonel had set up when a pair of cattle rustlers tried to move in on the Colonel's stock. The boy shot them both dead and ran back to the ranch-house bawling his eyes out with blood all over his hands. The Colonel began to reprimand him when he saw this, thinking that the boy had shot a calf or something, but the boy was insistent about bringing him back out.
"When the Colonel found out what had happened he congratulated the boy on a fine job done and brought him inside. The boy was wounded and the Colonel would not allow him to leave before patching him up, which is when he found out about the boy's [i]condition[/i]. They grew close, to the point that the master left the boy in the Colonel's care from the age of twelve to the age of 14 when the Colonel died. At that point he brought the boy back to London with him after the boy revived what was left of the Colonel's propriety through his will, which named the boy as the sole benefactor after the rest of it was divided among all the Colonel's gambling debts. This left the boy with a pair of old ivory handled guns, a bit of cash, and a silver pocket-watch.
"The guns broke after a couple years, they were in fact vary old and the boy couldn't quite use them because they were custom-made for the Colonel. The was boy sent to a boarding school where he was taught while the master continued his experiments in Cambridge. When the boy was eighteen the master had a custom pair of ebony-handled 
guns with a silver inlay made for him. On each of the barrels half a Latin phrase was written: Instrumenta autem Dei nostri/ gratiam patientia uti. As you undoubtedly understand, the boy is myself and I stand here before yall in the grace o' god. My master died last month, and I had to leave my studies to take care o' his estate, this is a welcome distraction." As he finishes his last sentence Alexander sits back in his chair, obviously tired of talking for a bit and ready to hear the others spin a tale.[/center]