I will make this plain for you so even you can understand, High Priest. Your opinion means nothing. Your incessant need to whine to any and all about affairs that simply do not matter to anyone but us is enough to prove your petulant shouting means nothing. Perhaps this will ring with some clarity to you since you are so focused on wallowing in your miserably pathetic existence.

Bloodloch will not be judged for throwing parties and enjoying the fruits of our labors. I find it morbidly amusing that perhaps out of all of the cities of Sapience we seem to be in the minority capable of understanding this simple concept. In fact, the capability to thoroughly enjoy ourselves while still choosing to take to the field on -our- terms when we so choose is what makes our city gloriously beautiful.

The sooner you come to terms with your inadequacies, the sooner your prattling might actually convey something worth taking to heart.

Penned by my hand on Falsday, the 12th of Lexadian, in the year 2 AC.