Legyn,

We abandoned naught. Dendara died in our arms after aeons of life being given and taken freely. All that is left in that forsaken place is the same shadowrot that your compatriots could never hope to quell in its entirety. We hold respect for the dead and allowed once-sacred Dendara to rest in the dark reaches of the cosmos as she finally wastes away entirely.

That you have a land to befoul with the fruits of your arrogance is only by Duirani spiritualism and the grace of the Celestine. You talk down to a realm, Architect, when your city does not even possess the height to see beyond the dirt that surrounds them. You act as if the North is and has always been in some vast position of power!

How soon you forget the sound thrashing that served as prelude to this tumultuous time. An encore shall remind you, I am sure.

Spireans at large,

Your city has run out of propaganda to peddle.

You have tarnished part of a legacy that was to be forever pristine. You have left blemish upon Memory most precious.

You shall be made to pay for every splinter of the Onimah, for every blade of grass lost to ylemnic poison, for every tree and grain of sand reduced to vapor beneath the tremendous flow of power you were not meant to wield.

All of you are mortal. You shall be reminded of such. You will be beaten and bloodied until you admit it and set aside these foul designs.

Surrender your arms. Abandon your militia duties. Call for the replacement of your arrogant Senators and your lackwit Chair. Until this maddened threat has been brought to heel, the Heartwood will strike relentlessly with or without the help of these other city-states you have antagonized with your secrecy and hubris.

All things die,
Speaker Iesid M.

Penned by my hand on Kinsday, the 22nd of Severin, in the year 505 MA.