Duiran,

Many would call you savages. Indeed, you take pride in the title. I name you instead what you are. Scavengers, those who claim the leavings unfit for Spinesreach and make of these unsavory elements your own.

In deference to your proclivities, I will tell you what awaits you. It displeases me immensely that you would have anything, even that which is too low for even our lowest. It displeases me that you would think yourselves worthy to take even our scraps. It displeases me that you would capture one of our Viceroys, and think to walk away with a smile and not a word.

We will take your territories in the coming weeks, and we will burn them. We will salt the earth that nothing will grow. We will not slaughter your people, but rather, we will return them to Spinesreach to languish within the Ironmaw. We will drain them of their arcana until they are husks bound forever in iron and stone. We will deny them the cycle.

When we are finished with you, we will not only have broken your bodies and your spirit, we will have broken your way of life. There will be nothing to scavenge, for what you have will be nothing but a wasteland.

We have spoken here of your tendencies, and of our retort. May steel now sing of your hubris

Ever,

Whirran Mulariad Arcan-Tetzauh

Regent

Penned by my hand on Tisday, the 17th of Dharos, in the year 9 AC.