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[The Seamstress]

I̴̟͆̀̍̐̂̎̍͂̚͝ ̸̝̟̻̩̬̙͔̅̔̕͜͜ͅW̷̟͚̳͎͘Ḯ̵̝̾͊̔̇̽̄̽̂͠N̴̡͔͈̎̍̈́̄̈́̌͂ ̴̞̩̦̰̍̒̈͜͠Î̴͚͐̎̀̅̄͆N̸̤̲͖͕̺͆̃̎̑̒̏͌̀͊ ̵̤͋ͅǍ̴͓̫̮̙͓̃̋̇͝N̸̰̈́͑́͂́ ̴̠̄̒̎́̇̕͝͠Ų̴̢̛̦̖̣̗̯͖̃̈̀̒̓͜͠Ň̴̩̜͈̈́̎̀̏̄S̵̥͓̦̳͇̙͚̻̆̉̋̂͗ͅE̵̼̘̟̮̰̊̉͝Ṫ̴͔͕͈̐́̓͌̾̈͘͝Ţ̷͈̼̎͐̃̔̚L̶̗͓̠̮̜̖̬̈̌̋͐̒̌͐I̴͔̼̭̻̻̼͉̫͈̍͝N̷͈͓͕̬̺̤̻͓̘̗̒̒̀G̷̯͛̃́̎̃̃̄ ̸̨̥͍͈͈̖̳̪̬̫͑̏̿̀̎̇͘W̷̢̟̺̥̼̑͌̉̀̉̃̇̄͂͝A̷̖̺͚̯̜̍̏̆̾̉́͠͝ͅY̸̼̲̩͍̝͍̬͂̽̑̎̕

[Tusky]

Who here likes winning?

[Son of the King]

I do!

[Tusky]

   I did not expect that.

[Jubal]

I expected it. And that is why I win.

[The Seamstress]

...or so you thought.

[Jubal]

But what if i thought correctly?

[The Seamstress]

You didn't. 

[Jubal]

Or did I?

[The Seamstress]

No.

[Glaurung]

Simple way to stop the argument: you're both wrong. I win!

[Jubal]

Can any of us ever truly win? Are we doomed to eternal conflict, pawns of some PHP script in place of the Olympians, this thread our ongoing Troy built to remind us only of the futilities of humankind?

[Tusky]

I think the answer to the second question is no, I think. Winning isn't about eradicating all conflict. It is about the simple act of being triumphant.

Which I am

[Jubal]

And yet, your triumph fades before my triumph, like so, continuing the cycle, for the wheel of fate keeps turning and its mistress is a fickle and capricious queen.

[The Seamstress]

*diabolic snickering echoes through space*