Good Lord, man, this wizard War and Peace has become a most profound meditation on the nature of human suffering and the inexorable march of history. I have just observed a gentleman of noble bearing clasp his hands in contemplation and murmur something regarding 'the eternal questions of existence,' whereupon all those assembled began to question their fundamental assumptions about life, experienced deep existential anguish about the meaninglessness of their social positions, and then wandered off to write lengthy letters to their families about forgiveness. The chroniclers paid him no mind, as it is not Great Men who make history, it is the combination of thousands of individual events building on each other that cause the real motions of the world. Meanwhile, I have been casting minor spells of social awkwardness and level 2 guilt about one's place in society. I believe I overheard someone intone 'power word: introspection' near the officers' quarters. I must retreat to my estate to ponder the futility of it all.