To the pitiful heathens of the forests,

Your time has come. The LORD shall no longer stand to see His world rest upon emerald hues. Instead, His lands shall be BLACKENED and BURNED unto desolation, by His will. Yours is a village of weakness, of slothness, of disgrace. You can barely mustre the courage to face an invading force HALF your size, let alone succeed against it. You flail about uselessly while the screams of birds, deer, and little squirrels rend the firmament asunder with their endless sorrow. Scarlet shall rule the skies like never before, and it is by YOUR own hands that Lord Sartan's forests shall be consumed within the Malevolent conflagration!

This is YOUR doing. YOU are to blame. YOU have failed, completely. Utterly.

We, the Soldiers of the Malevolent, give you one last chance to save the forests of Lord Sartan's world from complete annihilation by our hands. The terms are so simple that even the maggots freshly squirming off the rotten fruits of your scorched lands can comprehend their meaning:

Absolve the forest enemy status of EVERY single Mhaldorian. Every Mhaldorian from ancient times until the present is to be granted complete and TOTAL amnesty from the forests of Sapience. If a single Mhaldorian is hit by the vines or wolves of ANY forest, then we shall once again put to torch the Lord's foliage with such an unrelenting zeal that the very mountains shall quake from the thunderous FURY of our charge!

Know this: NONE but Lord Sartan may ever lay claim to a single rock, leaf of grass, or splinter of wood upon His world, and so it is He alone who may destroy or create upon Sapience. You now have your terms.

Know this, Eleusis: You will never have another chance like this. Choose wisely.

In Service to Him,

Aegoth Aristata,
Commandant of Mhaldor
The Holocaust King

Penned by my hand on the 1st of Lupar, in the year 742 AF.