In despair, the King looked at the pile of paperwork that had appeared on his desk whilst he'd taken an unexpected vacation... if you watched it long enough, you might suspect that it was somehow growing and reproducing by itself. He glanced at one or two of them, and tried to make sense of their often quite illegible scrawls and demands; The Governor of Moonglow was saying something about animal poo appearing in Moonglow Zoo, "Surely" the King thought "You'd expect that at a zoo?" Another hand picked up what looked like a flyer for a forthcoming event;
"That would be in Vesper" thought the King "A city once loyal to me, but now ignoring my wishes. Should I grace these 'Olympics' with my presence?" Crammed into the pile was another rolled up newspaper; the King sighed, already knowing it would be the scurrilous Trinsic Beacon again... "Oh, they want an interview with me now, do they? After insulting me all year?" Blackthorn dropped the paper and reached up and briefly touched his crown with his fingers; he'd hoped to lead his people towards embracing his philosophy of creative chaos, but more and more these days it seemed the only use the people had for the Kingdom was as just a rubber stamp, or even a nanny for their wayward teenagers... "ahh yes, that reminds me", the King mused, "I must see about making an inescapable jail for troublemakers, or which window is best for throwing them into the moat, for the next meeting".
A quick fireball spell turned the piled up papers into an easily swept away pile of ash; "let the people come and talk to their king once more, and away with all this nonsense!" he thought, before striding off to more important matters of state...
"That would be in Vesper" thought the King "A city once loyal to me, but now ignoring my wishes. Should I grace these 'Olympics' with my presence?" Crammed into the pile was another rolled up newspaper; the King sighed, already knowing it would be the scurrilous Trinsic Beacon again... "Oh, they want an interview with me now, do they? After insulting me all year?" Blackthorn dropped the paper and reached up and briefly touched his crown with his fingers; he'd hoped to lead his people towards embracing his philosophy of creative chaos, but more and more these days it seemed the only use the people had for the Kingdom was as just a rubber stamp, or even a nanny for their wayward teenagers... "ahh yes, that reminds me", the King mused, "I must see about making an inescapable jail for troublemakers, or which window is best for throwing them into the moat, for the next meeting".
A quick fireball spell turned the piled up papers into an easily swept away pile of ash; "let the people come and talk to their king once more, and away with all this nonsense!" he thought, before striding off to more important matters of state...