When the sun begins to set...usher your children inside...blow out the
candles...huddle in a corner. Hope that I do not hear your heart
beat...hope that I do not smell your blood coursing through your
veins...for if I do, I shall make it mine.

And before the next insolent mortal posts saying they will stop me, or
hunt me, mist me a thousand times..I pray to my Mother...I pray to my
Father...that they don't make a long, drawn out post about how they will
do it...or how the Living will unite and stop me and my comrades...that
they don't post at all. I pray to my Mother and Father, that the one who
plays hero to the Living does not copy Daskalos, a failed and forgotten
Luminary who's flame has died out...that they do not copy his Mentors,
Iereas and Searoth, and make ignorant statements about how weak the
Undead are...I pray that they make themselves known through battle, and
battle alone.

I ask all of my brethren..the Undead and Vampires alike...to here my
rally, and hunt Sapience when the sun sets. Annihilate the Living,
brethren.

The Night is ours. Take it.

- Draiman Arcan

Penned by my hand on the 6th of Midsummer, in the year 241 MA.