A large flowchart with several hundred squares, each bearing a faction, family, or religion connected by multiple arrows, each arrow indicating a subtley different relationship, adorns a large wall.
Two figures stand before it. They've been there for seven hours while the tall one explains the chart. The shorter of the two is still holding a bloodstained axe. In the distance, a large section of a rich city neighborhood burns.
Nolin: "It's not that we don't appreciate your enthusiasm, but you as you can see, err ..."
Wulf: "Wulf."
Nolin: "Yes. You see, that's the complex web of intrigue and influence we must weave while forging forward on our herioc path. We must always finely balance along the narrow path in the shifting sands of betrayal, trust, and knowledge. "
Wulf: "Right."
Nolin: "So you've got it?"
Wulf: "Got it."
A long beat.
Wulf: (unfolding parchment) "So, could you just write down who needs boot applied to ass in what order, exactly. Just the first fifty or so. That'll keep me busy for a week."
Nolin: *sigh*