The Houn sits beside a roaring fireplace made of stone (in the shape of a lion's mouth, naturally). He rests in a burgundy leather armchair, staring oh-so-deeply into the audience.
"Hello, and good evening. It has been my sincerest pleasure to share with you the joys of my intellect. But, just as all tired clichés must be repeated, all good things must come to an end. Each evening, the Sun must die at the edge of the horizon. Every novel has a final chapter. Every assignment as mandatory requirement that must be fulfilled.
Amidst the Roar, you have witnessed the truth in its raw form. It has likely been painful. But alas, it was for the best. Into the night you take with you the knowledge I have afforded you. Consider yourself well equipped.
Beyond tomorrow lies a world in shambles. I admit this is a bleak outlook, but it is necessary. Each man is given the pages of history. These pages slowly degrade over millennia and there is nothing you can do to stop it. You cannot make a difference.
Every issue I have spoken my peace upon contained a course of right action that ought be followed. I am normative by my very nature. But not all can hear me, and even if they did, all would not listen. In a way, I have doomed you to walk the earth alienated by the knowledge you contain.
But wait! You are not alone. I am with you always, as a pale apparition of truth. Beneath my ashen face lies the beating heart of ghostly patriotism. And, as long as you carry me, I shall carry you.
Farewell, and Goodnight"
And he leapt into the fire.
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