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The Lord of Entrana sat alone in the room.
He had no need for companionship; his life experiences taught him to rely upon
nothing but his own well-refined judgment of situations. He held a glass of
Asgarnian ale in his right hand and thought deeply about the day ahead.

As he raised it to his lips, he held it up against the torch light, and watched with the
eye of a connoisseur the tiny scales of potassium bitartrate which floated in its rich
ember depths. The fire, as it spurted up, threw fitful lights upon his bearded face,
its thick and yet firm lips, and the deep, Saradominist eyes, which had something
Asgarnian in their strength and their animalism.

He smiled from time to time as he nestled back in his hand-carved chair.
Indeed, he had a right to feel pleased, for

had chosen to give him access to the Gold VIP Forum. To any passing observer looking through the window, his next action would probably incite a stern belief that the Lord of Entrana has mental issues, but he stood up alone in his house and shouted at the top of his lungs: