Jorg Ancrath, you little fucker. 
 My feelings towards Jorg and this book can be best described as the epitome of an abusive relationship. 
 Jorg is not a nice man. Actually, for most of the book, he's 14 years old, so fuck the "nice man" part because he's not even a man yet. But he'll rip your head off, quite literally, if you say that to his face. 
 He is a rapist. A murderer. He tortures. He kills haphazardly. He is destructive, capricious. A madman in every sense of the word. He will wound you, physically and emotionally. 
 You will want to run away. You hate him. You despise his actions. You can't believe that you could ever love someone like that. 
 Enough is enough. It's time to stop the cycle of abuse. It's time to be decisive. It's time to leave him, forever. 
 There's no forgiving someone this despicable. 
 And then out of the blue, his vulnerability surfaces. He begs for redemption. He does something so kind, so selfless that it breaks your heart. You get a glimpse of his inner hurt. His inner demons. 
 You weep for what made him into a monster. He is, after all, just a wounded, hurt little boy who needs to be loved. 
 And just like that, you come back to him. 
 And the cycle of abuse repeats itself. 
 Jorg, you little fuck. I love you. You dumb little piece of shit. I hope you die. 
 Don't leave me.