Keep me out of your posts about whining. My sole purpose for attacking you was your theft of an owl. You can spin your tales about anything else in the world, but I know you have that owl. Or had it, until you dumped it in Mixing Room, after you ki

lled me.

And quite frankly, if you can't kill me easily, then you and your skills aren't worth a damn.

Written by my hand on the 26th of Midsummer, in the year 1032.