______
/\_____\
_\ \__/_/_
/\_\ \_____\ FROM THE DESK OF THE GRAND CRUSADER
\ \ \/ / / / Sir Benedicto Silverain
\ \/ /\/ /
\/_/\/_/

Murder has been done.

A blessed citizen of Rewh'va and a child of al-Ianurib Dej'anibha has been betrayed.

Duirani, you write of my kin in both dismissive and offensive terms. You compound injury with insult.

Her Light comes for you. I will be Her hand.

You are nothing more than a pile of corpses awaiting our flame to light your funeral pyre.

Where I lead, the Host follow.

Sa-dajimashav qan osa-iyanur!

Penned by my hand on Kinsday, the 15th of Ivolnos, in the year 5 AC.