I, worthless scum, have been defeated in my attempts to defile
corruption's vile shrines. Despite the foul noise that surrounds them,
the reeking atmosphere pervading their area, and the utter hate I bear
for that slimy, sexually diseased, pus-leaking, maggot-infested,
monster-bearing, goat-sucking harlot, I will humbly cease my foolish
crusade.

Furthermore, it is fully realized that I am entirely unimportant;
nothing more than a wormlike, stupid coward who fears the decimation of
all he cares for at the fists of those far more powerful than himself.
Not only are the victors greater in strength and size, but in genital
magnificence as well. The splendor of the King's mighty member is enough
to send even the doughtiest Enorian tavern wench screaming in repulsion.

Please, I beg of Your Villainous Majesty: bleed my insignificant corpse
into the ground as is your wont, but let those uninvolved alone.

To Lord Arion: Those who apologize seek forgiveness, and dirt deserves
it not from You or Your order. Nevertheless, I extend my sincerest
condolences and promise to offer essence until I have repaid what was
lost.

In humility,
One of many

Penned by my hand on the 11th of Lleian, in the year 271 MA.