King's House

Taking an "alternate route" through town that sent me through an unfamiliar village (al Jasra), I happened upon the boyhood home of the guy that's king of this country. No-one was there, so I figured I would take a quick look inside. This hard-charging little dude came running across the courtyard from his guardpost. Apparently I had interrupted his nap, but he was happy to show the place off to me anyway. I appreciated his thorough historical descriptions: "room, eating," "room, sleep," but I would have liked it even more if he had taken a bath in the last month. Talk about WMD.