[So in essence, Angela is precisely what Midgard has been in dire need of. He'll never say it—because he can't (but even if he could, he wouldn't)—but that's the truth of it. Verdelet was not a completely useless man, but everything she's said so far has been far more practical than any ranting or raving in his chants that the bald priest could offer. A shame he's meeting her so late. Perhaps she could have even been useful when Caerleon fell.
If wishes were dragons and so on and so forth, right?]
Little victories. I suppose if some were to be had, then yes. [Not that he would know anything about that. There weren't any victories in Midgard. In fact, the more he thinks about it, the more he realises it's all been him at a disadvantage. No matter how many steps he's tried to be ahead, he's always behind. He's been doomed to fail from the very start. He's fighting a war he can't win. One that he never will. So what then?] Your occupation sounds interesting, if not a burden.
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If wishes were dragons and so on and so forth, right?]
Little victories. I suppose if some were to be had, then yes. [Not that he would know anything about that. There weren't any victories in Midgard. In fact, the more he thinks about it, the more he realises it's all been him at a disadvantage. No matter how many steps he's tried to be ahead, he's always behind. He's been doomed to fail from the very start. He's fighting a war he can't win. One that he never will. So what then?] Your occupation sounds interesting, if not a burden.