I will not lay down, be stepped on, or trampled. As a king adorned in purple this would be unbecoming. To wage a war against a force driven by my own hand would, simply put, be foolish... I have split the arrow in two, but with the bow of another so the feat is not mine to claim. A change in the winds that rush forth from the open wounds that mar my body leave no tree end on. The worst place I have ventured in leaves me distraught and anxious. A coward. Rebuilding when yet another attack looms on the horizon seems fruitless. Long live the King! Alive is the King. Dead yet, are his intentions.