AND he sits amongst the ruins of his castle. His armor no longer shiny, his blade rusty, coat of arms still displayed prominently.

He has no qualm about his strength, no misgivings about his abilites, he knew his weaknesses, that too.

Unable to comprehend why people are so mesmerized by gold, he felt miserable. Miserable that he has to amass gold so as to gain recognition once more, and yet at the same time he felt that it was foolish to follow the crowd.

A dismal perspective he had, and hence he summoned wise ones, invited people from all walks of life, yearning for different opinions.




zzz fuck this. im bored.