Dear dear child...

Children laugh at childish things. Your hysterics over something so banal

proves to us all the impuissance of your mind.

Now I know a funny tale to tell. You died to me whilst I had no guild skills whatsoever.

You died to a firebolt. You died to a firebolt and you rode the Ship of Death by

my hands and upon considering you, you were deemed superior to me.

Dirl died many many times to me today as well and lost many heads and waxes. Joely,

your poor excuse for a protector died many, many times as well and lost many, many

potions, pipes and magical items. All of you may laugh at yourselves now for not

never fully grasping Avalon's esoteric nature. You are, without a doubt, the real

laughing stocks of this world. I relish to pull the black veils of ignorance back

over your heads by the power of the Sacred Night!

Maiya, The Merciful

Written by my hand on the 15th of Paglost, in the year 1072.