I forgive you.

As a Priest of the God-king, I absolve you of your sins against the
Crown and His blades, rebellious knight. I forgive your trespasses, and
I forgive your arrogance. I was taught that a voice raised in ignorance
is a voice best ignored, yet you continue to pester me for attention,
you continue to pine at my ankles for a scrap of notoriety outside of
your home. I forgive your envy.

Jealousy is a female emotion, the lady of a man, Hadoryu. I forgive you
your limp wrist. I have watched you over the years, your knights thrive
beneath you, as they once writhed beneath you. I've watched you, and it
has been a long while since you have ridden. I forgive you your stiff
gait, your anxiety, your irritability.

I forgive you your weakness, Grand Champion of the Infirm. The title
became too heavy for your shoulders to bear, you became disgusting to
your home and to the Paladin name, so you changed what it meant to be a
Paladin. That act of brilliance impressed me, and so I forgive your
recent stupidity. You've milked that act dry, but I'm afraid the
momentum you're trying to recover won't be found where you're looking.

I understand you.

White Knight of the Paladins, I know you. I have observed you, I
listened intently to your words when they were wise. I respected you
when you were admirable. I understand why you've trained the orcs in
your arts, I've found many orcs with your face, with your rigid three
legs. I understand you, white knight, and you amuse me.

You have fallen far, as I once fell. I understand your plight, and so I
offer you my hand, Hadoryu, I can show you how to rise again out of the
mire and the muck. I can find for you a bedmate, I can replace the fire
in your rut. My generosity has no end, Hadoryu, and because I understand
you and I forgive you, I can offer you a home. Stand beside me, and I
can show you what it means to be a man, it seems you've gotten lost
along the way. You continue to beg me for attention, I can only assume
you wish to find a father, I can raise you in my Iron Keep.

I pity you, white knight of the fold in the bedsheets. I pity you, but I
wish you prosperity and fortitude. And, again, I open my arms to you and
your knights. Join me and know Fealty, join me and know Strength,
continue as you have and know Terminus.

The God-king's blessing upon you,
Tyriik Bouchard-Cardinalis

Penned by my hand on the 19th of Variach, in the year 285 MA.