Baby King ascended to the throne last October after the death of his mother. We're under attack, it's been like this for months, but the rules are written in a very specific way. They prevent us from executing protective maneuvers of our own volition. Only the King can command a counterattack, but Baby King can't speak yet. So we're bombarded with arrows and large stones on a daily basis whilst Baby King simply crawls and cries. "Waaaaah!" wails Baby King; his shrillness reminds us of the importance of discourse.