Belxan usurps the throne of Lord British

Wishing to pay my respects to the liege of our fair land, I made my way through the crowded city streets of Britain to Lord British's castle.

As seems to be the norm of late, the castle gates were locked. But this time I would not be daunted. Lately I have been dabbling a bit in the arcane arts and I have learned a lovely parlor trick by the name of Rel Por. (Some call it Teleport.)

Positioning myself within sight of the castle walls, I was able to teleport myself onto the top of the wall. From there it was an easy matter to gain entry to the castle proper.

Within the castle walls I was delighted by all the nobility (who, interesting enough, seem to be mostly something other than noble in the commonly used sense of the word). I visited m'liege's private smithy, tailor shop, and stables. I was even granted admittance into his very bed chamber. But the highlight of this adventure was my visit to the throne room.

Decked in stately splendour, Lord British's throne room is clad in royal vermilion and flanked by statues and fine art. "Might I approach the royal throne?" I asked a guard. Receiving no answer to the negative, I ventured forth, even being so bold as to seat myself in the royal place.

Ah, to lead the life of a king. To rule in majesty and glory. To afford all the luxuries of the kingdom and to be able to sit idly by while that kingdom crumbles around you. What a thing that must be.

After a short while, I found that I'd had enough majestry for one day. I left the castle. I know not if I shall return. Perhaps someday Lord British might deign to visit it himself one day. Rumor has it that it hath been months since his royal person was last seen occupying the royal throne. Until then, I suppose that pretenders such as myself will be the only ones occupying that seat of power.