Once I met a young fellow who was begging for coins in the streets of
Antioch. He was saving up to buy a clan, he said, and asked me for spare
change. "What's this clan you want to buy for," I asked him, as he was
eighteen years old, of no guild or citizenship, and it seemed an odd way
to set out: begging up 500,000 gold while avoiding any duty or skill.
"The Order of Avasyu," the young fellow responded, "to lead and inspire
all the Orders of the world."

I met another young fellow some years later in much the same state:
begging for gold, to buy a clan. He was going to raise Caanae up again,
rebuild it as the most powerful city in Aetherius, restore it to its
former glory.

I knew a young girl once, she was convinced that Lycaeans were elves who
had the power to shapeshift, and spent quite a bit of time explaining to
all who'd listen that she was really an elf. She wore ribbons in her
"hair," and spoke in an elvish accent, if ye know wha' I mean, do ye,
and all the while she minced around pretending to be an elf, she was
quite clearly to any who looked a Lycaean.

Then there was that one fellow in my youth, swore that a dragon from the
moon was coming to visit him, to bestow great powers on him and his
"loyal followers." He swore that he would be able to grant great power,
bestowing the might of legendary weapons and tools on those who followed
him.

Declarations of power and might are far more suitable, even credible,
when they come after the demonstration of said power, rather than
before. I've known you a long time, Welam, and I must confess I'm
disappointed. This was barely even a convincing pantomime. With such a
rich tapestry of ninnyhammers stretching out behind us to the dawn of
Aetherius, this is what you present?

For Shame,
Harker

Penned by my hand on the 2nd of Vita, in the year 564 AD.