Ozymandias

Many happy returns of the day. :>)

Dear Gnarlitch, Leif, Vahk, Jammeez, Eyremon, and any other Kenzerite I have missed, You lot are an amazing bunch of writers, for one. For two, there are many of us who could learn lessons in love and respect of our fellow man from all of you. The simple, easy, yet emphatic way you all accepted your welcome into our group was mirrored exactly in the readiness, warmth, and trust you welcomed all of us into *your* circle with as an immedaite response. Keep it up. I'm still taking notes. :>) Sincerely, ~Ozymandias~

Dear Tanuchan, Few are the souls who are as warm and gentle as you that I have met in my twenty-five years. I don't think I'll even run out of fingers yet, to get the final tally. You are a salve to the weary, and a blessed friend to the hearty. I can't wait to go a-wolf huntin' with you again. :>) Sincerely, ~Ozymandias~

Dear DeantheAdequate, Bud, you've had this one coming. You are the wisest beyond your years, perhaps out of everyone I have ever known. You have a stout, pure, heart, and a strong spirit to back it up with, making you all the more special, needed, and appreciated. Even your zealous dedication to others, to the point of running yourself into the ground to make sure that *they* are happy, before you may rest...while necessarily chidable, since no-one wants to lose you, is forever laudable at the same time. Your comrade in grandest face smashery, ~Ozymandias~

Bonjour Madameoiselle Celes Crusader, You have been a Pennite of highest quality in my eyes, from the very beginning. I belive we came across one another briefly, perhaps only once or twice, in Archmage, but when I finally got to know this 'Lady Celes Crusader' in the walls of the Mighty Pen, I was (and am!) impressed and pleased. Your continuing dedication to representing non-english languages here equally has been a blessing- we are a much fuller and wiser community for it. More on you yourself, though- you've long been a very impressive belle to me indeed, because of the bearing, style, and class that seems to have been in short supply indeed in America, largely since the turn of the century even. And even more importantly, you are so passionate a person, you fairly warm a room just by entering it. Women, well, people of either sex, really like you are rare gifts indeed in this day and age. Merci beacoup. Sincerely, ~Ozymandias~

Dear Jechum, You were leader at a time when we sorely needed one. With you as Loremaster, we stayed together. The Pen owes its survival to you very much as well. Thank you so much, for all it has meant to me, and all others who have fallen through its' doors. Sincerely, ~Ozymandias~

Dear Zool, Amigo. You were one of the very few, who right from the start (Archmage) not only made me feel welcome, and wanted, *and* helped me hone the all-too important sense of humor, but also helped keep my head above water- most times, without me ever telling you you had. Just by being there; by bringing the laughter, and quiet introspection you are so very skilled at drawing out in others. You too, own a large stake in the Pen is Mightier than the Sword. You kept a ragtag little guild/army in a vidoe game alive, and viable long enough for it to be able to take what I can now see was it's next logical step, and become the separate entity that has evolved into the Pen we know and love today. An entity- No, a group of people who have been *my* life preserver, as well as I know not how many others' in many dark times. You too, I cannot say we would even have been here today without. Thank you. Sincerely, ~Ozymandias~

Dear Mynx, Overconfidence in your writing, indeed! Do me a favor- do a 'find all posts by this member' on such names as Peredhil, or Orlan, for example. Read two or three pieces by each of them. Any will do. Then think on this for awhile- yours is the quality of writing that I hold in the same esteem as theirs. Your loving heart, too compares, if not exceeds that of people such as Master Peredhil's in grandiosity and sheer, awesome scope. From our first conversation, I could almost feel the love leaking out of your prescence. You should not underestimate yourself, or even more importnantly, EVER look down on yourself. To do so would be far too much like a miner saying, "Oh, damn. It's only a hundred-mile wide vein of silver. Guess we'll have to keep looking." You are worth so very, very much. Sincerely, ~Ozymandias~

Dear Gwaihir, You're one of the ones I regrettably do not treat nearly as well as I should as a dear, dear friend, but your quiet patience, bombastic zeal, and eager joy in the Pen and in the rest of life earned you the place of one I hold most dear in my heart, no matter how shoddy the practice of that belief is. Your devotion to your fellow man, to what is right, and to being that person who steps up to get things done still impresses and gladdens me more than I can say. We need more people in the world like you. Sincerely, ~Ozymandias~

Master Peredhil, What can I say? In Archmage, you showed me how much further I could go, once I had started on my path to self-discovery and growth through the pursuit of imagination and philosophy in that place, and then helped not only myself but so many others in so many lasting ways by being the cornerstone of this community that you have. One to one, be it face to face, or in 12 point font, you only ever reinforce that influence tenfold. The Pen, as well as I, would not be where they are today, were it not for you, too. Thank you. Sincerely, ~Ozymandias~

Dear Tzimfemme, I have lost track of how long it's been since we met. Five years? Six? And yet you remain a puzzle to me, for overall, I know I still have much to learn from you. You are the most charming, strong, cunning, powerfully spoken, rock-solidly moral, trustworthy, and loyal puzzles I know, too. :>) Until just the past year, it seems, almost all of what you say has been a riddle to me- you have a gift for speaking your messages as solidly, correctly and made up of exactly as many layers as you choose. Some people would say that confusion is a bad thing. I say I know that my lack of understanding in your case is not the fault of the speaker, but of the listener. I know that I simply need to undertsand more, to learn more to move up to your level. And I like that very much indeed. You challenge constantly, I'd wager, and even in such a roundabout way, you challeneg me to grow and improve in my understanding of the world around me. Thank you, for your solid support of everyone you've ever chosen for it, for sharing that stunningly able mind, and pushing *me* to do better- just by being here. Sincerely, ~Ozymandias~

Dear Rune, I think of you, and I think of Bilbo's line (my favorite one of his!) from the Fellowship of the Ring: "I don't know half of you half of well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve." Not only because of the fact that I know you half as well as I would like (you, like Orlan are very definitely in the 'fascinating people I hope to know better someday' category), but because you seem like you'd not only understand but appreciate the humor in it; you carry an understanding of what is joyous and happy in life that I see all too infrequently everywhere I turn. Also, like Orlan and the other people who richly deserve credit for the Pen is Mightier than the Sword existing at all, you do too. We would not have had the wonderful site you put together, had you not made the decision to bend that keen, clever mind to creating it. Thank you for all the joy you bring, even when you are sad, for you are one who never left a doubt, even then, that you care. Sincerely, ~Ozymandias~

Dear Orlan, We've never talked even half as much as I would like, but hey, what can you do? Even so, you very solidly remain one of the people *I* most credit the Pen's existence to- and not only because of the tireless and top-drawer work you do in the webmastering portion these days, but for how much you were one of those who most inspired me, way, wayyy back in the Archmage: Reincarnation from Hell days, with your easy wit and pen of a natural storyteller. You, as much as others I am going to name soon, are why we're all here today. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. Sincerely, ~Ozymandias~

Dear Salinye, Despite our differences, you remain one of the people I respect and cherish most in my life. For even in those long periods when we haven't been in touch on a one-to-one basis, I am gladder for knowing that you're still out there working for making the world a better place - and make no mistake, you're damn good at it. Your delicate, yet fiery warm touch and determination have had a profoundly positive impact on the Pen that will last for years to come, if not longer, and I would find it hard to believe indeed if someone told me, you did not bring that too *all* of your life. Finally, I wouldn't dare forget what a wonderful writer you are. Vive la Hostel!!! :>) Sincerely, ~Ozymandias~

Ozymandias walked slowly through the door next. It was a sure sign of all the older citizens of the Pen's distraction that none, even they, gave any outward recognition of the Loremaster's arrival. For his part, Ozymandias said nothing about it, in fact, he said nothing at all as with cane in hand, he worked his way over to the seat across from Tamaranis. Sitting down, he locked eyes with the vampire, face passive. What happened in the mental and spiritual realms was quite far from passive. Know this, hissed a voice in Tamaranis' thoughts, treat ANYONE in my charge, foolish, wise, beautiful, ugly, and all other states of being...as one would an animal ever again, and I will banish you. All who noted the Loremaster's countenance at this point would see his eyes narrow as he seemed to look straight through the ancient vampire, but find no other sign of something amiss. Do not think, either, to test my resolve. My body you would break easily, to be true. But there are many things you do not know about the Order of the Phantasm. Phantasms too, have been to that world that you call 'Shesh-Oling'. Only we came to knowledge of it as most mortals do- the misnomer of a state of mind- called madness. Ozymandias, finally physically worn by the force of the gaze of a vampire so steeped in power, broke eye contact first. Though he spent every other bit of his resolve to hide the fatigue from Tamaranis.

My prayers go out as well.

The rules, in full: 1) You will be given five rounds of riddles. 2) The farther you get, the more and the harder they will be (one in round one, two in round two, and so on) 3) You will only be given the next round's riddles after you answer the current ones. 4) Geld will be awarded as follows: 5 geld for round one 7 geld for round two 9 geld for round three 11 geld for round four 13 geld for round five 5) If you get stumped, you may keep trying to answer whatever riddle or riddles you get stuck on for as many times as you can think of a new dinner for the sphinx (it can be any food, really). If you get tired of the given riddle, I'll give you a new one. 6) Riddles will be given to participants by PM only until five people have answered all five rounds of riddles. Then I will post the riddles in full for all to see. 7) There is also a special bonus riddle that will be worth 45 geld. Anyone who makes it to round three or higher is eligible to answer it (you need not succeed at round three, just get to it), but you only get ONE chance to answer it. To be fair, here's one (and only one) hint for it: Edgar Allen Poe. Have fun!

Ozymandias sat at ease on a simple wooden chair outside a great pavilion; one the likes of which had not been seen since the rulers of the Earthen lands called the Middle East of thousands of years ago. There were fine skins and rich weaves in and on the grand tent round about; even the ash tent poles had all been crafted by masters' hands. He sat next to the entrance as well as the embroidered sign affixed to it. It read: Riddling and reward for it (bring your wits or a tasty dish) Fairgoers who asked the Loremaster to explain were all told, "Inside is nature's riddler; the sphinx. If you wish to play, answer the questions she asks. Answer correctly and receive a geld reward each time. Answer incorrectly, and she will expect you to pay- with a meal. So do not be caught with your cunning down, and you will be rewarded. Be stumped by her, and well...make sure you have a Christmas feast with you, or you are on the menu." Inbetween curious and brave folk, Ozymandias hummed 'God Rest ye, Merry Gentlemen' to himself as he roasted chestnuts over a small fire.

<Loremaster note: Due to the lateness of promotions (these were supposed to be November's...) we will be pushing the promotion schedule back one month to compensate. Thus the next will be in February, after that April, and so on.> As you may have noticed, I like coming up with a new theme for each promotion announcement thread I put up. This time the etymologies/definitions of your names seemed like a pretty good idea. Thanks to Merriam-Webster Online, Behind the Name, and Mr. Ehrman's honors English class, the results were...interesting. And by the by- Congratulations. You all richly, richly deserve your newfound rank. Keep at it- we need more like you. On with the show!!! (final important note- with some of you, I had to break your names apart into the closest variants I could come to the different portions of your name. A large part, I suspect, of why some came out odd, and other rather interesting, I think. But just so you know- I did not search around to try and make them make any jokes with them, or any other such plan. The only criteria I used was looking for names and other words that were the closest to the original spelling as possible. Side comments from me are noted in italics.) To Page: BLACK9 Black Etymology: Middle English blak, from Old English blæc; akin to Old High German blah black, and probably to Latin flagrare to burn, Greek phlegein. Nine Etymology: Middle English, from nyne, adjective, from Old English nigon; akin to Old High German niun nine, Latin novem, Greek ennea. The Burning Nine, perhaps? Dude, make that your next prose or poem title! It'd be kewl. VENEFYXATU Vene Variant: Venae Etymology: Middle English, from Latin : VEIN. FY Function: abbreviation fiscal year A variant on "fy" worth noting, I decided after reading the definition: -fy Etymology: Middle English -fien, from Old French -fier, from Latin -ficare, from -ficus -fic 1 : make : form into <dandify> 2 : invest with the attributes of : make similar So, either, "Bloody fiscal year" or "Make bloody", perhaps. Hmmmm. You wouldn't happen to be an accountant assassin, would you? DRUMMONDO drumm Variant: drum Etymology: probably from Dutch trom; akin to Middle High German trumme drum ondo Variant: ordo Etymology: Medieval Latin, from Latin, order : a list of offices and feasts of the Roman Catholic Church for each day of the year "Drum order" "Marching order" "Chruch drums" Iiiiiiinteresting. LEIFTHEBUNNY Leif Etymology: Short form of names containing the Old Norse element leifr meaning "descendent, heir". bunny Etymology: English dialect bun rabbit Heir hare? Descendant rabbit? Oh, my kingdom for a good one-liner... ;>) SHADOW OF THE BUTTERFLY Shadow Etymology: Middle English shadwe, from Old English sceaduw-, sceadu shade Butterfly from old scandinavian boterschot lit; "butter shit" Shadow, I swear, this is what they mean! No mischief from me or anyone else committed! Honest! I'm sorry!!!! Interesting that that's where "butterfly" came from, though. It was named that after it's excrement, which, well, looks like butter. Please don't hurt me? ^^;; YANYANGANAFFI Yan m Variant of YANN; YANN m Breton, French Breton form of JOHN; English form of Johannes, which was the Latin form of the Greek name Ioannes, itself derived from the Hebrew name Yochanan meaning "YAHWEH is gracious". ganaf Variant: ganef Etymology: Yiddish, from Hebrew gannAbh thief -fi Variant: fie Etymology: Middle English fi, from Old French -- used to express disgust or disapproval Another very neat one to me. Could be loosely translated as "God is gracious, disgusting theif", which is worth a smirk, maybe a chuckle...and I did, I admit, until I started thinking of the two thieves who were crucifed next to Jesus, and that definition took on a whole new meaning that I like even more. To Quill-Bearer: GRYPHON variant of Griffin Etymology: Middle English griffon, from Middle French grifon, from grif, from Latin gryphus, from Greek gryp-, gryps HAPPYBUDDHA happy Etymology: Middle English, from hap buddha Etymology: Sanskrit, enlightened; akin to Sanskrit bodhi enlightenment MYNX variant: minx Etymology: origin unknown I decided that was anticlimactic, so I did a name search, and came up with- Minnie: f English Pet form of WILHELMINA: German feminine form of WILLIAM: From the Germanic name Wilhelm, which was composed of the elements wil "will, desire" and helm "helmet, protection". /me grins at Mynx knowingly. TATTERED Tate m & f English From an English surname meaning "cheerful" in Old Norse. So, the loose translation here (given also the definition of the word "tattered") could be said to be "Ragged cheer". I like that one very much, too. CRYPTOMANCER Crypto- Variant of crypt- Etymology: New Latin, from Greek kryptos -mancer Etymology: unknown, perhaps science fiction/fantasy writing? wizard, magician, etc. "Hidden wizard". Nice. Or perhaps "Code Wizard". Also cool. Congratulations, again. Sorry I took so long!!!!

I feel Adam and Eve were extremely fortunate sometimes. Adam was made the first man. It was him and the animals, plants, and insects. God saw that he became lonely this way, so He made Adam his most fitting companion: Eve. The first woman. The were quite literally made for one another, and knew it. Despite the rather dire troubles they ran into, after all too short a time in perfect peace and harmony- though they did fight, and fear, and such -their relationship; their love, endured. I look at my own experience with women and see that life as pretty simple. ...sometimes. Shortly after the very beginning, the wooing began. A wife was not a commodity to be won; not an animal to be trained, nothing of the sort. She was a peer, and more importantly, an equal that was at the same time a half- one that the additon of you to the equation, would make one whole. Which is how it has always worked, and always will, because that is how God has made us- male and female together. Once there came many people more, the process of finding a wife became out of necessity (since your future wife no longer in fact, already lived in your town...well, it was no longer a guarantee, at least) more and more complex, because your mate quite literally became harder to find, the further the human race expanded. Dating, in the strictest sense is the current most common practice of seeking a mate. Dating is actually not an old process, though. It's fairly new, when compared to husband and wife, or even romantic relationships themselves. It really only came into being in the past 100 years. Its predecessor, courtship, was both simpler, and much more complex. But then, the same can be argued about dating. Ozymandias hummed a merry tune to himself as he prepared for his evening with Shadows. He had after much deliberation decided to go with some cotton robes that were the blue of a clear desert sky at dusk. The silken and satin had crossed his mind, but in the end cotton had won out, as it was well-appointed clothing and his customary dress, which would be be more comfortable for him and ideally would help put Shadows at ease as well. Courtship was an exclusively public venture. The basic flavor consisted of a suitor visiting a woman's home under the watchful eye of her parents (most of, and often the entire visit) and spending time talking with her, as well as her mother and father, listening to music togther, recitations, and/or other such diversions. The entire community most often had some sort of say in the relationship as well. The only consistent exception to this method was the poor class, who, not having large enough houses to properly entertain even one guest, found it more feasible to let the couple go out on their own (though they very often still had the community influence). There were other divergences in courtship throughout history that did not last as long, but were still quite noteworthy. Courtly love, for example, is still widely known even today. In fourteenth century France, most knights practiced it. A knight would pledge himself to a woman (often one who was already married), and write poems and ballads for her, as well as dedicate great deeds to her. It was most often unrequited love. It was in all, one of the stranger yet more poetic offshoots of romance. Shadows peered intently at the chess board. Ozymandias watched in quiet confidence. Suddenly, her hand snaked out, made her move, and shot back. "Knight to Rook six", she said smugly. Ozymandias' jaw dropped. "How...?" "Feminine wiles, my dear Loremaster", she grinned. The old pharaoh shook his head in amusement. "Indeed." The British Isles seem to be well-marked for their whimsy in courting ritual, as well as in writing and conversing. In 1400s Somerset, peasant maidens would block the streets, permitting eligible men to pass only after paying a fine. The next day, the men would turn the tables, and finally the proceeds from both days would go to the local parish. A much more civic-minded and friendly method of going out and finding someone to chat up and flirt with than such modern "conveniences" as nightclubs. Despite such interesting and at times dramatic departures from the historical norm, the age of parental arrangement of courting (and marriage) continued largely unabated until the twentieth century. It was in the early twentieth century that dating first began to seriously evolve; and it grew out of the United States. The second world war started it; as with so many men gone, women were out of necessity called in greater numbers than ever before to the workforce, and by extension into many more social freedoms. Though things did return to somewhat normal once the war was over, women in the U.S. saw things much differently now, and began to change their expectations and roles in society, and in private life radically. One of the many such examples was the desire to court whatever man they desired, not just the other way around, and to be able to do so without reproach. Couple this and other factors, such as the already old wealth level divide in courting rituals, and dating began to gather serious steam- even before the sexual revolution hit. Shadows laughed. It was a rich, throaty sound which the man who now only thought of himself as Ozymandias thoroughly enjoyed.The court was genteel, and polite...often to a fault, but there was so little true joy to be found in those people I had to spend every hour of every day with. ...even before the plagues. This girl is more of a balm to a soul such as mine than she thinks, I'd wager. He smiled back at her, and before he could even speak the question, she answered it. "What would my parents think?", she wondered aloud, eyes glimmering with mirth, and a hint of sadness. "An evening with an elder! Although," she added slowly, "the fact that you're a king and all...might assuage their concern over a two-decade age gap." His answering grin flashed teeth that were strikingly white against his dark skin. "You are too kind, Milady", he said, voice dripping with saccahrine. "Thank you, Your Highness. But, if I may say so...?" "Of course." "Checkmate." Ozymandias looked at the board incredulously. "Damn it!!" Which brings us to today- where, though it is still mainly in the U.S.A., the evolved form of courtship, dating has come to the fore. Gone are the strict rules, gone are any overreaching rules, really, which can make discerning where a relationship stands difficult at best, and at worst, lead to many, many recklessly hedonistic and meaningless relationships that never have a chance to grow precisely because they are so rushed, or so shallow; being so without tested and proven goals to guide them. Gone also is the close watch of parents and other members of the community; here to stay is intimacy and privacy such as countless couples never knew for thousands of years. In some regular arenas, such as the internet, outside influence is essentially gone completely. The freedom to choose whatever they want to do, and with so little worry of being held to the wishes of others, what we have in the U.S. and in a growing number of places around the world is almost ideal, as well. Finally, a man and a woman are totally free to move at their own pace in a relationship and are free to get to know one another with only the other being the concern in their time together, not having to worr. over the opinion or attitude of a mother, father, or neighbors for that matter. Clarity may be down drastically, but all in all, if we can solve that problem, as well as keep to our moral guns, this could well be the greatest time for romance in history (minus the tragedy, even!). Ozymandias and Purple Shadows stood outside her the door to her quarters, winding down one last bit of pleasant chatter. "...we shall just how to reteach you how to dance then." Ozymandias smirked. "I have the distinct feeling, if I hear one more woman say that, I may just be in trouble." Shadows smiled back, like him, tired, but happy. "I had a very good time tonight, Ozy." His smirk transmuted to beaming. "I'm very glad. I did too." Not missing a beat, after a suitably long passage of seconds, Shadows leaned in toward the Loremaster... and rapped him on the forehead with a thin wooden cudgel. "OW!!!" Demurely replacing her club, Shadows folded her thin arms across her chest and gave the old Egyptian a challenging look. "Guess you did still owe me that one, eh?", he mumbled contritely while gingerly massaging the swelling. With a slow, knowing nod, she agreed. Despite himself, Ozymandias flinched as she leaned in toward him again. This time, however, she gave him a small kiss on the cheek and smiled at him again. "I really did have a lovely evening. Let's do it again sometime." Smarting, but amused, he offered Shadows a warm smile of his own. "Let's. Goodnight, Shadows", he said to her retreating back. She turned just before closing her door. "Goodnight, Ozy."

My PM inbox is open for business. :>)

I can't write. I can't think. I cannot stay calm. I will not hold onto my peace, no matter how much I want to. The fury is overwhelming; the selfishness like tinder. Hate exists for all wrong, and no person. Love is there, for all and sundry. It's a strange, and highly disturbing feeling, wishing quite so sincerely to carve pieces off of anyone you love- with blades or teeth. Corruption is recognized, despised, and all too often left to run free in full view of its herder. Righteousness is never truly dimished, but bent double when such things happen, sagging with the weight of as much of the world's sadness as it can shoulder. Corruption has infected even righteousness now, too- it is simple logic, and fact that there are simply some things we cannot do alone. The infection running through righteousness' veins robs it of the ability to remember this simple truth, and so it's back bends again, as it shoulders much more than it can carry. Wrath sits in its cage, brooding; lashing out through the bars precisely, viciously, and vindictively at any who veture too near. It still remains monumentally quieter than it was in days of old. Still, that toothy maw slavers, ever so slightly, at the mere sight of human. Confusion sits over it all, or sometimes capering and dancing about through everything, laughing, unceasingly, and without a trace of sanity. The truly disturbing part is that it never takes a breath. It simply lets fly with vampiric, entropic merriment without an end in sight. The guardian too, moves through it all, whispering words of comfort in the hopes that they are heard, when his helping hands are slapped away. Sometimes, there is no sign of recognition. He continues on his rounds anyway, offering aid where it is accepted, encouragement where it is not - both, too when the intended recepient is all but deaf, blind, and unfeeling; in the cleverest, subtlest ways, to reach in past that formidable wall. Love and pain. Neither one owes its existence to the other; yet they are intextricably intertwined. ...it would seem.

I feel loved! ...and bruised slightly, but they are most definitely the most loving bruises I've ever had. And Tanny, you impress me. You have the freshest, coolest dog breath I've ever smelt. Today's update: Started obscenely late today, so outside of a possible post or two in the next several hours, this, sadly, is it. However, there's always tomorrow...

Allo, everyone. Not doing much else than this tonight, I fear, but I just wanted to drop public word so it'd spread fastest to those who desire it, I've picked up me pieces, glued meself together (with much prodding, and more than a little guidance on which bit goes where), and sit in my trusty swivel chair (WHEEEEEEEEE! *cough* Herm, um, yeah...) before you hale, hearty, and ready for action once more. So, for now, I go in search of the sleep. BUT... You shall see me again in ten hours, give or take a couple. Excelsior, my friends. P.S.- I STILL need to clean out my meshugginer PM inbox. It's full right now, so until I drop a quick notice in this thread saying 'all cear', please *DO NOT* PM me. E-mails, however, will be mighty fine. :>) P.P.S.- I missed many birthdays, it seems! {:>\ So, without further ado, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear... Yan Yan Ganaffi, Ghost of the Dawn, jonathan wolfe, and Lady Celes Crusaaaader!!!! Happy Birthday to you! And many more....!

The Loremaster quitely passes the retired Demigod, the former prophet, (the big weiner!) a small wooden crate labeled "DO NOT TOUCH" in 39 different languages. Once he has unfastened the six six-stone locks attached the six massive iron chains holding the crate shut, he pries open the lid with the crowbar handily tied to its' egde, removes a casing of solid granite with said crowbar, revealing a cask made entirely of a metal known only to a dwindling few as mithril, recites the secret word that dismisses the ancient air dragon from its' vigilant guarding against any mortal touch, waits for the first new moon (which is when the lock on the cask's stopper becomes visible), and opens Ozymandias' last remaining supply of the drink nearly lost to the ages known simply as "Ol' Peculiar". Wafting the aroma issuing rapidly forth to his nose with his hand, Joat sighs happily as the scent summons yet more memories of kingdoms lost and kingdoms won, friends lost, and friends found, some sort of strange organized sport played with a living ball, and of course, Squirrels. His nose hairs obligingly burst into flame.