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Do I have to remove by force those who do not honestly claim to be citizens and subjects under my rule in this city? The distraction is far too great for any good, and wish to take back what I own....

Hm. It seems a stage worthy of me has been set. Primitive fool, you may live a while longer for your contributions to my glory.

This seems like an adequate solution, Faker.

Improper use of language. Just as expected of a true Faker. Why not reveal yourself, and avoid any further shame, hmm?

You are not golden enough, fool. I do not even know why I am bothering to waste words with you, but perhaps the situation demands it, or is at least amusing because of it.

Your collaboration is almost terrifying, I have to say.

As expected as the lowliest of these swamp-dwelling mongrels.

Stay off of my garden.

Usually, mongrels, it is the tiger that swallows the bird. Keep this in mind while you spill blood in my city.

A King of Knights is more lowly than even a princess of the Moon, though that rock may be barren and worthless. And, her image has been copied so many times that I have to wonder if the original has...

Naturally, I win. By his very nature, he must be a fake, and thus worthless - I am the original Gilgamesh, and he is Ramses the second.

Why fight, when I could take her as my rightful queen? It is only appropriate for her, as one who claims to be a princess.

No, you fool. It has already ended.

This primitive understands.

I always wondered if this would even happen. How... amusing.

I am not clean shaven; you mongrels are merely too unworthy to even see the hair on my chin.

And who do you think you are, mongrel?

In my cycle of time, beards on the neck were considered a mark of triumph. You are all mere primitives.

Look, now the farmer child is becoming flustered. I declare this "thread" a positive use of space in this wretched swamp.

In the arena of logic, some choose to fight unarmed.

A mirror of reality: here these fools are, sullying my garden. It is of no consequence, though; if you wish to pluck out the weeds in a bed of flowers, then ask a gardener.

True, true. The good farmer ploughs many fields, but still knows not to which markets the fruits of his sown seeds are sold.

Then what of those who have no lack of swords, hmm? Swords, spears, wine, and more. The King of Heroes has no lack for such things, so please, bring thrice as much if you wish to compare at all.

If you wishful citizens of Uruk are finished gawking at the robed transient and the Faker, then turn your attentions to me, please. This city was built for me, not for the worship of lesser beings.

I heard of a theory that I, the King of Heroes, may be related to this... creature. The resemblance is uncanny, I must admit, but, such a thing cannot be true.

A thing to behold? So a mongrel might say about an animated conception of the original. Impressive, for its scale, but in the end a faulty attempt at replication that doesn't even build upon the...