O criminal heretics of Sapience, harken unto me, for I speak the Divine word of Wrath Most Holy, Whose Wingspan Shelters Us in Eternal Grace!

Know that we have arrived to visit justice upon your lands, for you have committed a grave and terrible offense against Vorostra: you have taken the lives of twelve coastal villages, three seaside towns, countless fishing fleets, and plenty of children - all in a bid to reject your own fate. By our assessment, such losses equal one of your own cities.

Thus, one of your major settlements must meet its end. Each of you shall suffer a tribulation at our hands, for all punishments must bestow wisdom. The one that does not thrive shall fall away and die. Then and only then shall Glorious and Perfect Wrath be satisfied, Her thirst for justice sated.

By Her anointed word, the Sea Witch shall bring ruin to the Hammer of Dawn.
By Her seething song, the Harvester of Sorrow shall wreak havoc upon the Theocracy.
By Her sacred decree, the Bearer of the Burning Eye shall undo the Heartwood.
By Her holy command, the Sorcerer's Bane shall crush the Sanguine Fist.

In the ashes of ruin, the survivors will be permitted to break bread with us. After all, we have seen your efforts against a common foe: the godless dragon hunters of Drakkenmont. The strong survive and the weak wither away, culled to make a more brutal, powerful world - such is our way in Vorostra.

Prepare yourselves, Sapience! Should you survive this invasion of paltry birds, you shall face true peril at the hands of Her Heavenly Demons.

Penned by my hand on Falsday, the 2nd of Lleian, in the year 15 AC.