Ah, my dear, dear, succulent people,

How I adore the forests. The slimy, wriggling worms, the creeping,
crawling bugs and vermin. It makes my desiccated little heart fluter
with fond memories, at least I hope that's what's fluttering inside. It
seems that Duiran has taken upon itself to finally admit to its own
hebetude.

I congratulate you on your willingness to finally face the truth. Your
actions have consequences, sadly. For too long, Duiran has thought
itself above the dictates of common decency, and to such a high degree
that it would make even one of the Consanguine so haughty as myself
pause to reflect. You chose to handle the situation with Wedric
Vespertine in such a way as to provoke violence.

You've said publicly that the burnings did not much at all to harm the
forests, and yet you ban the sale of herbs an elixirs in the hopes of
getting others to correct your problem for you. As one of the
Consanguine, I am quite accustomed to dealing with problems: we like to
call the vampires. You know them, I imagine. They're the uncultured,
inarticulate bumpkins who loiter in the inns, writhing and wriggling all
over each other like a mass of fresh maggots on dung. Just as we
Consanguine must deal with these vampires on our own, as they are our
problem, you too must learn to deal with your own problems.

I suggest looking to the failings of your leadership first and only once
you have done that to the rest of Sapience. I do not imagine the rest of
Sapience likes being extorted by Duiran any more than I do. Remediate
your own reprobates.

Penned by my hand on the 4th of Niuran, in the year 165 MA.