Lim,

I want to personally thank you for the sense of catharsis that I'm
currently experiencing. However, I'm having trouble determining whether
or not it's catharsis, my sense of humour, or the drink that I enjoyed
while my scribe relayed your post to me. I assume it's catharsis as I
was once like you at your age. Why, I have avid memories of throttling
the life out of Cariv with my dhurive or ripping his spine out as a
lycanthrope. Alas, with strength and the ability to deliver destruction
comes an inflated sense of self-worth and delusions of grandeur. Though,
I'm having trouble determining whether or not you are suffering from it
far more than I did.

Allow me to put this in simple terms for you as I already did before you
decided that I wounded your pride and you needed to flaunt yourself to
Sapience: I don't care if you attack a member of the Council outside of
its borders if they wronged you, insulted you, or possessed an item from
the Hunting Grounds. What I told you is rather black and white. If you
attack a Council member within Duiran proper, you will be enemied for
it. I don't care if it was Wylliam, Dato, or your bloody grandmother. If
it pledges loyalty to Duiran and you attack it within the Heartwood, you
will be enemied. You violated this premise. Deal with it.

As for you hunting me down, better men (and women) have tried and both
succeeded and failed. It doesn't bother me in the slightest. Though,
being able to be rid of this century-old bounty to Bloodloch would be
interesting to say the very least.

As for you, Cariv... I'm glad to see that after all of these years, I'm
still capable of getting under your skin with minimal effort. Five
credits? I'm flattered.

I raise a drink to both of you. Have fun.

- S

Penned by my hand on Kinsday, the 16th of Severin, in the year 455 MA.