...What exactly did it mean to be "Game Master"? In the most basic of human terms...it was a producer. The weaver of tales and many fates, who had visions en masse that would all be possibilities to consider for an entertaining story, as well as considering the rules of any story of that game board. Though, those roaming Witches, with their inexorable taste for the sweet droplets of entertainment known as "havoc", would cackle in the most mocking of manners towards such a conclusion. Writer? Producer? As if tying that ever entertaining and desirable title to the lowly standards of the physical, human world, whom many Witches indeed simply snickered down at from their inconceivable thrones.
However...
This is not a tale of the exploits of those arrogant Witches. Nor is it a tale of the agonizing drudgery of creating a fitting, consistent tale as a Game Master. This is but an Improbable Forgery. When one publishes their work for all to view...certainly some shall create their own interpretations of this tale. Some go even farther by creating extensions of said tale, or possibly creating their own brand new tales with nods to or uses of that respectable creative license (with appropriate and just permissions). To this end one can perceive a story to be as eternal as the existence of humans themselves. So long as, by some miracle, that tale lives on as a single fragment of the creative minds of many theatergoers and readers.
...You'd be aware of this, wouldn't you? With every creative mind also comes a delusional one. Needless to say, one can appropriately visualize the result of someone of such a mindset trying to weave their own interpretation or tale as an individual forgery. Whatever thought which could slightly prod at, tickle, even pleasure that fragment in a delusional man's head...they can create a tale around it, no matter how inappropriate. Witches are entertained by the likes of such theatergoers, and why wouldn't they? Such utter disregard of a felicitous, rational root to an expertly crafted tale's continuity, simply to please the delusional mind. Even for a simple human, reading or witnessing something of that nature could prove to dissolve the poison of boredom.
Now...this shall be the reality of the forgery weaved before you dear readers and theatergoers today. For one could be so delusional as to assume that a deformed pebble from the stars could bolt from the heavens to pierce and peak into this eternal catbox.. Could one even consider that fantasy?
"All the same it is for us. You simply know your role as an author now...your piece and tale shall be recognized, even for this minuscule moment. Cherish that, even before the final moment everything scatters and is rendered meaningless. I give you eternal freedom, with one role...do not ever, ever bore us. Kihihihi..."
The Witch of Miracles has acknowledged this outcome, as ridiculous as it is. Even as foolish as it may be, it has been granted the honor of recognition from the Game Master, and the eternal Witch.. Let fiction become truth, this is the power of the eternal catbox.