Wilderbeasts of the Hunter,

Come and claim your feast from us. Slake your battle-fever through our clashes of steel and bone. Build your triumph upon dusted shrines and mangled corpses, but all who stride forth to conquer eventually come to realise an implacable truth.

Beneath His gaze, each death becomes a prayer; His will draws from silence we revere, and it is thus:

In victory or defeat, Blood is always the ultimate prize and victor.

Elene Arcan, Adil wo Oidhre
His Reaver

Penned by my hand on Gosday, the 23rd of Severin, in the year 13 AC.