I've never claimed to be the most fantastic mage of all time... but I'm getting better. The majority of my enemies would rather not see me on the battlefield.
You, on the other hand, believe that you're the best thing since sliced bread. And, oddly enough, you die a lot more than I do. Even with my *limited* skills, I've sent you rowing on the ship.
I wonder, with all of your amazing battle prowess, why you aren't more successful in your endeavors? Perhaps it's your tendency to speak without thinking, insult those that deserve your respect, and act with your sword before becoming aware of the co
I remember a time when we were able to talk on a reasonable level. Then, because I was partially responsible for destroying your home and guild, you degenerated to the equivalent of a talking baboon.
Here's a couple hints for ya... lighten up, remember what ya play for (hopefully, fun), and relax!
Written by my hand on the 25th of Mournsend, in the year 1030.