It was the dawn of the second day after the bloody culmination of the centennial Banquet, and the eternally storm casted city was, very predictably, still awash with conversation and speculation alike; even more so when the topic of the monster and the fool who played the most key roles in the sanguine spectacle were brought up.
And so ever more embellished and hyperbolic rumours were being spun into elaborate tapestries of overexaggerated gossip and hearsay, that all but further augmented my already monstrous reputation into that of near legend, as everyone began to echo my titles of the Bloody Emperor, Mad Monarch and Ruinous Dragon with a far more timid understanding, coily sown and stewed with the ever slightest hints of reluctant reverence within.
