{Bloodloch,

It has been the desire of many of you since the moment the oath was broken to once more find the favor of the Lord of Strife. Indeed, many citizens of the Empire seemed perplexed as to why siding directly against Him after all He has done for the Empire was in fact a betrayal of that oath. That lack of knowledge has been corrected, and the Thronekeepers and Tyrant continue to claim that atonement and a return to His favor is sought.

As dictated by the Lord, it has my duty to negotiate. The terms offered to me were a temple in a second city Bloodloch does not possess. An outpost in one of Bloodloch's territories that has been promised to my Lord at least three times now. The ability to raise a paltry number of shrines in Bloodloch territory. An earthen grotto that once held much, and now holds nothing, and lastly, the right to execute the Tyrant a single time.

In the Lord's stead, I have cast away these terms. We will not be offered things which do not exist, or that we have been promised before. We will not be bargained with using what we could simply take with the barest amount of effort. As the Tyrant has now grown cross with my candid rejection, I pose this singular term to the Empire in totality.

In recent years all we have seen from you is decadence and lavish displays of overindulgence. We have seen the Empire dance and drink and prance. If His favor is sought once more, actions should reflect such, and these do not.

The singular term is this. Show Him that you actually respect, nay, KNOW His realm. Make war. Immerse yourselves in His realm, and know Strife wholesale. What greater tribute can there be?

Make war upon a worthwhile opponent, Empire, or don't. He will know your heart either way.

Ever His,

Whirran Arcan-Tetzauh

High Priest}

Penned by my hand on Closday, the 10th of Lexadian, in the year 2 AC.