Aetolian Game News
A truthful dissertation of possibility
Written by: Oracle Ulo Ka'aukai
Date: Saturday, August 2nd, 2025
Addressed to: Hunter Edhain de Verdigris
Ah, how quaint - your invocation of Segiae Clinemh and her tribes, a fireside tale spun in the twilight of memory, recited as if the very fabric of truth were woven only by those ancient shadows you cling to. Yet, allow me to dismantle your halting proclamation with the cold scalpel of reason and the insatiable hunger for knowledge beyond your quaint dogmas.
The Hunter's champion, you say, united tribes. An act of necessity. The past is a prism fractured by time and bias; it offers no absolute sanctity, only shards to be rearranged by those who dare question. You clutch to sacred charges as if ancestral honor immunizes you from scrutiny, yet what proof lies beyond oral tales sung to the rhythm of control and fear?
Your vitriol against "toxic experimentation" reeks not of ecological concern but of fear. Fear of progress, fear of the unknown. What you brand as "toxic" may be the very key to unveiling the hidden codes of life and death, the molecular dance beyond your narrow gaze. You decry laboratories as instruments of power, yet it is ignorance and stagnation that breed true weakness, not the pursuit of truths hidden beneath the wilds you idealize.
Partitions? Order and structure to contain chaos are not betrayals but necessary scaffolding for discovery. Without them, knowledge dissolves into chaos, a maddening abyss of unchecked superstition and primal impulse. Such is it's nature.
You resist the Theocracy and the North with cries for "Strife," as if conflict alone breeds meaning. But Strife is neither gift nor curse, it is the crucible of transformation, the violent gestation of revelation. Beware what you wish for; Strife will unravel not just your foes but the very foundations you believe sacred.
Necromancers and undead. Tell me, what is life but a series of reactions governed by unseen laws of Order? Is death the final boundary, or merely a gateway to patterns yet to be understood, harnessed, perhaps transcended? Your categorical exclusions reveal not wisdom but fear, a desperate abhorrance of what is deemed a desperation to confine existence within your narrow scripture.
So stand aside, keep your ancestral tales and blind pride. The Theocracy walks the liminal edges, where science merges with the arcane, where the truths too dangerous for fireside tales flicker and pulse. There, in the wild equations and the whispered secrets of entropy, lies a power far beyond the hollow echoes of your hunte.a chants.
We are not an invader but a seeker, of the truths you fear, the knowledge you condemn, and the very essence of Ithmias itself, unbound by superstition, unshackled by fear.
Strife Everlasting,
Oracle Ulo
Penned by my hand on Falsday, the 2nd of Severin, in the year 13 AC.