To the ignorant herd,


By the will and grace of the Son of Autumn, the Stalwart Sentinel, Creation's Warlord, the Unbowed Vigil, Favoured Son and manifest Mandate of Almighty Varian, the following notice is issued to all who tread the bounds of Sapience:


In the hardship of recent days, long is the queue to besmirch the name of our Creator. Many of you mock and demean Him with your every available word. You think to judge Him by your own standards. You seek to lay your own failures and misgivings at His feet. No longer.


This is a fundamental truth. You exist at His sufferance. The castigating gaze you claim sees His flaws would not exist were it not for His grace. The poison spilling from your lips would have no tongue to give it voice, were it not for Him. The very breath which you employ to hurl insult and spite at our Father from atop your teetering towers of self-righteous indignation is the very life granted you by His hand. Were it not for Him, you would be nothing. When you demean Him who made you, you ARE nothing.


From this day forward, such words and deeds intended to mock, deride, and demean our Creator will not be tolerated. This is your formal warning, and it will be the first and the last. Besmirch the name of our Father at your own peril. Regardless of city, association, or claims to the contrary, you will be put to the sword by the Argent Legion.


Our world would be nothing without Him. You would be nothing without Him. You WILL be nothing, without Him. We will see to it. When your words are nothing but fading wind and your body nothing more than trampled mud, we will not remember your name.


Ever His,


Whirran Arcan-Tetzauh


Herald of Strife

Penned by my hand on Closday, the 19th of Midsummer, in the year 501 MA.