"No".
Basil says from atop his throne, his gold robe is parted slightly and the inner crimson dressings seem to be moving as it massages his body constantly.
Yet the throne is made of Glitner, the hardest metal known to mage kind.
His soft smile is the only thing adorning the gold and white throne room.
Not a single painting or statue is placed inside, prioritizing the space for the subjects, the people.
Yet no person can be seen other than him.
His silver hair tickles his chin while the rest is neatly resting on his shoulders.
He is not pale, yet he isn't tan.
A man who walks underneath the sun by choice.
"We do not have enough halflings my liege" a voice whispers in the throne room.
"Yes we do" Basil replies while taking a sip of the white hiski in the gold goblet.
"The Olim Line is full of those vagrants, we will give them a home".
"Use the lands of Karn".
