~Penned in the Savage's hand~

Hashan,


It appears your City has grown drunk off of the foul taint of the 'gifts' granted you by your new masters, so much so that you seem to have found that spine you had been missing. Your formal declaration of war only serves to further support your need to prove your relevance in an age that had all but written off the blight of the North Ithmia.

And so here we stand at the precipice of a conflict that has already waged on for some time. You have claimed numerous shallow victories against the Village due to our conscious decision to remove our guards. That ends now.

You speak of progress, and yet the progress you wield has come at the cost of your dignity and freedom. As history has tought us time and time again, the pursuit of power for power's sake is fleeting. Tyrants and demagogues will rise and fall, buried beneath the weight of their hubris and false promises.

On one point I will agree. The spark you speak of burns bright in the hearts of our warriors. It is in the sound of drums that echo through the Village and mirrors the deep thrum of Nature's own heartbeat.

If there are those among us who will grow weary of war, it will be of scrubbing Hashani blood clean of the Village canopy or decorating our walls with your heads. The wolves of war will be unleashed and no quarter will be given to your soldiers. Our hunger will not be sated.

The village has stood against the likes of far greater for far longer and emerged unscathed and more vibrant than before. I suppose it's time for us to see what Hashan is truly made of.


Speaker for the free Village of Eleusis,


Andraste Montenegro, the Savage

Penned by my hand on the 21st of Valnuary, in the year 801 AF.