The world is vast and verdant, but I see you have not changed.

Another cause, another city, another bridge burned. When will you find a city with enough gratitude to your works to satisfy your egotism? Passing from cause to cause, shedding each one and declaring them weaker then your sum as you go to play mouth-piece for another.

I look forward to hearing your fervoured voice being raised as you preach the triumphs of Evil and Strength. Then as the years grow old and as the routine goes, your post declaring them as well weak and subservient to your whole as you join the ranks of Hashan and raise your voice in sung praises to the Shadow Court. And after that, Cyrene where all old things go to die.

Unless, of course you chose to regress on all your words and crawl back to one of the three cities you so eagerly spit on. I to would find that amusing.

In dust,
Tahquil Maris

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Glacian, in the year 733 AF.