There was a time when Priska was a girl when her family went to the provincial capital of Hergig. A traveling carnival had been passing through the area at the same time and taken up residence outside the city for a fortnight. Her father, Lord Dolf Steiber of Tussenhof, had no time for such people and refused to set foot anywhere near. As the days wore on however, and Lord Steiber became frustrated both with the tedious business that had taken him to the city - what that was, Priska couldn’t remember - and the constant requests by Priska and her older brother Dolf II. Eventually he relented, and took his progeny on a tour of the circus accompanied by a pair of his liveried footmen.

Neither Priska nor her brother were permitted to participate in any of the carnival games or activities, however they were able to take a wide sampling of the strange sweet foods. The rich, ironically enough, rarely have to pay for things they could easily afford and this was no exception as the carnival leader, or Ringmaster as Priska learned, caught wind of the Steiber’s visiting and assigned an underling to fawn over them and cater to their whims. A kind mention from a man of Lord Dolf’s stature could do wonders for the legitimacy of such an enterprise, after all. They were able to watch acrobats who flung themselves about on swings and ropes, a strong man who wrestled a bear and a beautiful Tilean lady dressed in silver and gold ride a dazzling array of strange creatures while singing a beautiful song from her homeland.

That singing woman, so much like a fairy tale, was Priska’s favourite part of the day. Her brother however enjoyed the menagerie, where animals both fierce and exotic were kept on display. In one cage, at the back, was a greenskin. Though not a hulking orc beast, the goblin was easily the size Priska was then and it’s over large head and dagger-nose made it seem extremely intimidating. It had dark red eyes that seemed to glow with hate in the light of the torches and followed Priska where ever she went. Despite its activity and the fact that children would throw pebbles at it, the creature delighted in any mischief it could cause, chief of which was frightening those same children. It’s most joy came from when a peasant boy, having found a stick somewhere, moved to poke at the beast, knowing himself to be safe outside the bars.

The goblin, clever and cruel as it was, made a show of being hurt and abused by the boy, cowering away from the stick in its little cage. Priska never stopped watching its eyes, however, as the goblin never took its gaze from the boy, despite how violently he prodded it with his stick. Buoyed with the confidence of a bully and the cheers of his peers, the boy got closer to the cage to really stick the goblin. As he did, the goblin snatched the stick and pulled, the boys hand going between the bars of the cage. It wasn’t the scream of the boy or the blood that poured from where the goblin had bit off two and a half of his fingers, but the look in the goblins eyes. It was a look so full of malice and hate, but also a horrible manic glee at having causing pain and the chaos that followed. That was what Priska remembered most of the day as the memory of the boys screams, her brothers laughter and her father’s derisive snort faded away. The look in the goblins eyes.

That look was no longer hidden in her nightmares anymore, and the horrible spider mounted greenskin that tried ineptly to gut her now had the same burning red eyes. Priska screamed again, and kept screaming as she kicked its mount i the face, feeling it crunch through her soft shoes. Even as Jurgen split both greenskin and mount in two, she kept screaming, surrounded by those hateful red eyes.