Sapience, have you lost your memory?

Ages have passed, and with them, all evidence you remember the Despair you once felt, the Chaos inflicted upon you. In your contented arrogance, you believed the Empire vanquished. You have forgotten Despair, and so a reintroduction is in order.

We have been known by many names - we are called the Children or the Priesthood of Despair - but you simply call us Indorani. A fitting name, yet you do not tremble when you speak it. Do you understand what it means? No, you must not. Perhaps you cannot be faulted for your ignorance of history or the old speech, though. After all, it is a poor teacher that blames her student for his incomprehension when the lesson has not yet been presented. Truly, truly, we Indorani have been remiss, for we have let you forget. But hush now, my darlings, we will make this right. Come, therefore, and heed our tutelage:

Some of you have chosen (for reasons that utterly baffle us) to designate the miserable hamlet of Tainhelm your 'protectorate', swearing to support and defend its resident Dwarves from Shadow's inexorable march over the Light. Yet, you cannot. We Indorani have proven as much this past week by clearing Tainhelm of every last Dwarf no less than once each day. We will continue to prove your devotion feeble and promises empty for another seven days. You cannot stop us, if you can even muster the will to try. Throughout and beyond these thirteen days of death (a significant number, for those who understand), we invite you to fall into your Despair, linger with it, feel it, and remember who we are. Remember the Indorani. Remember the Empire. Look back to the past that you may recognize your future as it comes to fruition in the present - and Despair!

In the hands of Chaos,

Inquisitor Vyxsis Qizzeke, Atele wo Oro Du

Penned by my hand on Quensday, the 5th of Slyphian, in the year 467 MA.