Witness, this day, the removal of Your Temple within the city of Silverfalls. Mortal hands wielding mortal-crafted warhammers, have laid waste to Your sanctuary within these walls. Consider this an act of defiance for Your actions of late. Consider this, if you will, poetic Vengeance.
Let it be known by all that there was no Divine hand to be seen here. That we who reduced Xanthe's Temple to nothing more than rubble and ruin did so without a Patron to hold our hands during the act. We did so without a leash around our neck, or a prod at our backs. We tore out the very foundation without vile lies or honeyed whispers in our ears.
To those that dwell in the West: Look hard at those Patrons of your city. Look hard at what your city is, here and now. I can tell you, as truthfully as I ever have, that the Thakria of old - the Real Thakria - would be ashamed.
Will you wear the yoke that Cornelius and Xanthe so eagerly usher you into? Or will you break the chain, and make a name for yourselves, as mortals that do not need their hand's held both day and night? Think on this, Avalon.
Written and shown unedited exactly as rendered by text based game bulletin board on Avalon Online RPG and by my hand on the 16th of Cloudburst, in the year 1384.