Fabricators of Qor Qogol,

It was the song of war, its verses writ in sanguine strife;
earth calls earth, earth feeds earth and from the earth,
eternal life.

Meet us in the Mhojave, you who would steal the blood of
mountains, thieves of the Earthcallers' due, faithless
things toiling down in the dark for the Madness of a man
and Fundament to whom you are nothing.

Meet us to dance the dance of sword and spear as was our
Father's way. A battlefield: your Fabricators and my
Apostles, testing the might of metal against unyielding
stone.

Sharpen or break.

Kneel or be knelt.

It makes little difference to me.

You may send your terms to my Wardancer, Taj Cardinalis.


Paxe Visara
Architect of Blood and Bone

Penned by my hand on Kinsday, the 7th of Chakros, in the year 4 AC.