[He can do that, you know. Sometimes. Sometimes those awful thoughts leave him alone for a few minutes. You never really escape the Crawler, though, no matter how far you get.]

I've had little chance to leave Albion, in more recent years. [He's grown more solemn now, with that mention, and his left hand keeps tightening rhythmically on the cup like he wants to clench.] The crown comes with duties. Little time to be gallivanting about the known world. [And there commences an inner battle against black thoughts that speak with the Crawler's voice, but he focuses on the fire and tries to stay here, in the present.]