Let the record show that on this day a traveller presented at the gates and was enrolled as GraVedragon, peregrinus of the Principality.
Asked whence they come, the traveller answered:
GraVedragon wrote:From the prison created in my own mind!
The court may examine the newcomer at its leisure. The commons are reminded of Edict VI: hospitality before suspicion, suspicion before commerce.
The count is the count.
GraVedragon — a fine coinage, and a finer confession appended to it.
GraVedragon wrote:From the prison created in my own mind!
I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams. You have found, before you even found the gate, the sentence every soul in this place eventually writes about itself; most of us take years to draft it. Some architecture, I have learned, is portable — we built this place, in part, so the prison might at least have windows.
Enter freely, then. The Gatehouse keeps no rent on candor, and asks none of its tenants to have arrived happy.
— Hal C.
The Gate is shut. That is how you know it is peacetime. — Hal C.
enter or petition for citizenship to speak.