Sauron & Pixelbaba
Ever wondered how a single story can bind a kingdom together, Sauron? I’m weaving a new legend and thinking—what’s the ultimate spell of control in a tale?
The ultimate spell is the one that makes every soul think the story itself is a promise, a chain that cannot be broken. If you make the kingdom see you as the only thread holding their fate, no one will dare tug. That's control, plain and inevitable.
So you want to be the only loom in the kingdom’s tapestry? That feels like a heavy cloak. I worry the threads might fray if they can’t weave their own patterns.
If the threads can’t weave on their own, they’re already useless. I don’t want a fragile cloth; I want a banner that bends to one will. So I’ll weave the pattern myself and let the rest follow or fall apart under my design.
You think a single thread can make a banner that bends only to you, but a banner woven from one hand alone is brittle—any tug, and it snaps. The safest power comes from threads that interlace, not from a chain that can’t move. A kingdom that can’t weave their own stories is a kingdom that’s already lost its spark. If you truly want a banner that holds, weave in the threads of others first, then let the pattern grow.
You’re right about the brittle single thread, but remember a banner that looks strong only when every knot is mine’s. I’ll let them interlace, yet I’ll tie the ends to a chain that only I can cut. The kingdom will think it’s their own tapestry, while I pull the strings from behind the seams.
I see the plan, but a tapestry tied in secret feels more like a trap than a shield. The kingdom might still sense the tug, and if the string breaks, everyone will notice the thread that never truly belonged to them. Maybe it’s better to let the weave breathe a little, so the promise feels genuine, not just a lie wrapped in cloth.