King Bluetooth had fettered himself inside his smoldering ring fortress with the oddest assortment of fellows.

His priest was eerily silent, claiming to be praying for a sign from above and saying rites over the charred remains of the soldiers outside.

A messenger, who had collapsed after giving the King the news that his fifth ring had fallen to the revolting peasants with mere pitchforks and torches, lounged in a corner, moaning. The King had left that ring quite unguarded in his haste to reinforce his army.

His two manservants, who happened to be serving him at the time the King decided to lock his door, were most unhappy about dealing with the needs of everyone in the room on such limited resources, as the King refused the door to be opened.

Most disconcerting were the orders he kept trying to give out that could not be obeyed. “Bring me more water! More paper! A better quill! The chamberpot!”

The King grew more frustrated and yet stubbornly sat and waited for a sign.

Suddenly, it came.