What a great question. I am glad somebody finally asked. Maybe somebody else asked, I don't remember. But it all started when I was nothing more than a slave for the Forsaken One...

Forsaken One: 'Look at my playthings, Imp.'

Lyristeon: 'Yes, Lord.'

Forsaken One: 'See how they fight for the right to live? They do this just to please me.'

Lyristeon: 'Yes, Lord.'

Forsaken One: The most interesting thing about them is that what they do is futile. Nothing more than a diversion for me. They will all die off when I tire of them and they make new ones for me to enjoy.'

Lyristeon: 'Yes, Lord.'

It was about this time I was starting to think this guy was a pompous ass. He was so full of himself and his playthings that he just ignored everything else around him...or so I thought.

Forsaken One: 'You think me a pompous ass, don't you, Imp?'

Lyristeon: 'No, Lord.'

Forsaken One: 'You need to work on your lying, you aren't very good at it.'

Lyristeon: 'Noted, Lord.'

Forsaken One: 'Would you like your own plaything, Imp.'

Lyristeon: 'Well, you gave me...'

Forsaken One: 'Not that you little twit!'

Lyristeon: 'Yes, Lord.'

Forsaken One; 'How would you like one of my playthings?'

Lyristeon: 'My Lord knows that I don't find those slaves amusing.'

I don't know if he understood the irony of my disliking slavery. He did leave me behind when he left, but for eons, I was his slave. Maybe his gift to me was more than the human head.

Forsaken One: 'Maybe if you had one, you would understand.'

Lyristeon: 'If you say so, Lord.'

Forsaken One: 'Then it is settled, this is your slave.'

Lyristeon: 'What is his name, Lord?'

Forsaken One: 'Name him what you wish.'

Lyristeon: 'What do you want to be called?'

At that point, a howling scream came from it's mouth. It wasn't in pain, it was just howling in answer to my question. I noticed no difference in tone, inflection or breaks to determine a word. He lived because the Forsaken One wished it, but in his cruelty, my slave could not speak. I decided not to treat him like a slave and just as someone who listened to me. After a few years of listening to me, he started to use facial expressions to his screaming to get his point across. When his body couldn't hold out anymore, the Forsaken One opened his mouth and howled at him and the slave howled right back. The Forsaken One ripped his head off and planted his skull on a rod for me. The eyes opened and he howled his greeting.

That was a few eons ago. We now understand each other completely through sounds and expressions.

His name is...Fred. Fred the Head.