Very few of those in Oz ever saw the wizard's true face. Statues, maybe. The luckiest saw his great mechanical head in person, but never the true man behind the legend.

Even so, the most inner circle of the city's aristocracy - businessmen, generals, the likes - were occasionally granted entry into the wizard's life, if only for a short while.

The invites for dinner had gone out a week prior. He was a wise man, and as such, there was bound to be an ulterior motive to all this, though you couldn't say what for certain.

Oz, as always, was seated at the head of the table. Meanwhile, you found yourself settled between a portly older man and a woman with an eternally stern expression. You couldn't seem to recall the positions of either, but they were probably something dull and important.