I Try To Avoid Having Thoughts. They

Too Many Of Us Take Great Pains With What We Ingest Through Our Mouths, And Far Less With What We Partake Of Through Our Ears And Eyes.

Can You Feel It? Something Just Changed. I Believe That’s The Sound The World Makes When It Pisses Itself.

"each Moment You Fight Is A Gift To Those In This Cavern. Each Second We Fight Is A Second Longer That Thousands Of People Can Draw Breath. Each Stroke Of The Sword, Each Koloss Felled, Each Breath Earned Is Another Victory! It Is A Person Protected For A Moment Longer, A Life Extended, An Enemy Frustrated!" There Was A Brief Pause. "in The End They Shall Kill Us"... "but First, They Shall Fear Us!"

I Consider Myself To Be A Man Of Principle. But, What Man Does Not? Even The Cutthroat, I Have Noticed, Considers His Actions "moral" After A Fashion. Perhaps Another Person, Reading Of My Life, Would Name Me A Religious Tyrant. He Could Call Me Arrogant. What Is To Make That Man's Opinion Any Less Valid Than My Own? I Guess It All Comes Down To One Fact: In The End, I'm The One With The Armies.

So, There I Was, Tied To An Altar Made From Outdated Encyclopedias, About To Get Sacrificed To The Dark Powers By A Cult Of Evil Librarians.