Nebre'seir,

Omnipotence. Immortality. Power. Strength.

These are words I have heard from your ilk near the entirety of my lifetime. I admit, once upon a time, a few of them might have even rung true. You speak of rising above your stations, achieving what many would call the impossible. I return unto you that I have risen as well. Years on years have passed and gone since I found myself at the mercy of any of the Consanguine. Now, you are all at mine. Refute this if you feel you must, strike down my claims, protest loudly and longly if you so feel the desire. It will not save you.

Since ego, arrogance and pride have played into your own missives, I will allow them entry into my own. To all of the Coven Nebre'seir; when you walk around this land unhindered, unmolested, know that it is because I allow you to. Know that when you are not bottled up within that hole in a mountain you all call your home, it is because I have been merciful enough to allow it. If you are speaking, it is because I have not taken your head from your shoulders. If you walk, it is because I have not cut your spine. You speak of all of these attributes I listed above, and yet I find you hold none of them.

Prove me wrong.

Trager Del'baeth,

Master Ranger
Fury of the Wilds
Bloodhunter

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Ios, in the year 437 MA.