Ryzar's mother was finishing her days in a mental institution where she spent her time talking about working for her father. In between folding pieces of paper in to a small phallus and manically flapping her legs open and shut she would describe the back room where she learned her trade. The room contained one bed, one bedside table and a jar of condoms (she liked to call it the killing jar). Those were the tools of her trade and she was good to. People travelled from all over to get a tailor made shirt from her father's shop before reclining to the back for tea and fellatio. One day the killing jar was empty and with a gold trinket and a smile Ryzar was conceived.
