Food,

It is good to know that you have not changed by choice. I wouldn't know which way was North if you stopped swinging your mace at the first sign of trouble.

You assume that I find you worth fighting. You are not now, nor have you ever been, a worthy opponent. All that fire within you amounts to little more than hot air.

I was alive, Food. Life is weak and good only for eating. I would sooner be consigned to oblivion than to take your foul 'cure,' and my own delusions are far more entertaining than your Age of Dawn. If you had any sense, you'd find the nearest graveyard and commit yourself to the Earthen Lord.

As for my progeny, Povox, he was mad long before he met you. Do not claim to have done the work my own Blood began in ages past.

Penned by my hand on the 22nd of Chakros, in the year 413 MA.