Liar.

All the world sees the black heart of Targossas. We, your long adversary, have known and experienced the rotten souls of those poisoned by the Bloodsworn Liars. Like a dark cloud blotting out the sun, your malice has spread, revealing the rotten souls corrupted by the Bloodsworn Liars. For centuries, you have hidden your diseased ways beneath silk stockings, like a festering wound dressed in finery, showing only glimpses of your decayed souls.The veil has been torn back and you have been exposed as the true monster you have become.

How dare you climb into the judgement seat and proclaim the lives of Hashan and Cyrene as being less valuable that your own? How dare you offer the souls of others in attempt to appease your foul abominations. You thought it would go unseen. You thought to hide under the cloak of secrecy.

"They'll never know.", you whispered to one another.

"How could they find out?", you conspired.

"This is a sacrifice we are willing to take; it is for the greater good.", you lied to yourselves.

But the world did find out, didn't they. You were discovered, and what was your response? The same as it was the last time, you vile, treacherous tyrant. You thought we'd forgotten that, too? It is there for all to see in the 21,311th post to this public board. It was rightly titled 'The Unholy Covenant'.

You stood there knee-deep in those waters and watched on with morbid curiosity as your citymates made their vow. You knew it was wrong and yet your serpent tongue licked your lips as you looked on hungrily, not saying a word or lifting a finger to stop what was unfolding before you. And then, you were among the first to cast the stones, slaughtering them and cheering on as they were cast from your city before your furious Bloodsworn Abomination.

You failed them then, and you fail them now.

And so you were caught and you again planted the dagger in your friend's back. "It was not I, it was them!" you scream as you point your bony finger beneath the nose of those you have betrayed.

Blood is on your hands, 'Disgrace Serene'. You are corrupt. You are an imposter and you ought to be hung for your treason against humanity.

You do not sit the throne of Achaea, despite all of your delusions. You do not get to be the arbiter of other people's lives. And woe to you if Cyrene and Hashan decide to enact their vengenance upon your guilty head. You pray they are foolish enough to wash away all of the souls sacrificed to your profane ritual just because you have thrown one of your friends under the chariot, hoping the consequences of your ordained and collective actions will befall them instead of your guilty nation.

Pray harder.


[X] Overseer Grandue Xeh'ria, Keeper of the Iron Crown

[A small octagon encircles a raised "II" here, inscribed in thick, amethyst ink]


Penned by my hand on the 12th of Miraman, in the year 951 AF.