Please be aware that the time of the end is well nigh at hand.
The forces of evil are prepared to march. This I know. I have seen
it in a vision, and I have felt it deep in my soul.

Many may think I speak of Sartan or Twilight or such. I do not.
Those with eyes and ears, who walk in awareness know.
The forces I speak of have no name, have no single face, cannot be
described but in letters of reference and symbol. Since I was a child
I have been blessed (or perhaps cursed) by an innate knowledge of
these forces. They know I possess this knowledge and they haunt me.
Though these forces have no entry in the kingdom of names, their
minnions are known to you all. They are none other than the foul
rats and thugs that live beneath our feet.

Of late I have been distracted by the wars and rumors of war, the hatred,
the enmity, and the misadventure that seems to rule us most of all.
I must return now to the true war that rages beneath and about us. I must
return to that battlefield to which I have cast my life, my fate, my soul.
Some of you support me, some riddicule, some laugh and some scorn. To
me this is as the buzzing of gnats to the raging of the waterfall. The
wise amongst you will see and perhaps join me in my quest. Soon the
damn will burst, but until then I shall stand in it's path, small and
weak though I be.

Perhaps some amongst you seek proof of the mennace of these dark
and lothesome brinngers of death, spreaders of disease. Let me share
this small bit from my life that perhaps it may touch the light in your
soul and bring you to wisdom.

When I was but a child no more than 5 I felt the first stirrings of the
touch I now feel so strongly. Pulled by these feelings I left my play
and entered into the home of my parents. There, upon the floor of our small
cottage lay the bodies of my parents being devoured by the rats that had
killed them. The head of my father was severed and lay seperate, in his
hand the small sword he had wielded so poorly to protect my mother. The
rats had come for me. Perhaps it was the hand of Lupus, or perhaps
some higher power that saved me. At our 4 dogs entered and
fended of the beasts. A neighbor later took me to the Sentaari who
raised me and tought me how to protect myself with mind and hands.

Some will find this tale fanciful, but consider: when you see a
body upon the ground, who feasts upon it. The rats delight only in
death and filth. They are the emmisarries of a greater force. A
nameless force of destruction. Hakhim, the Ratman, and I are amongst
those that know their secret.

Join me. Take up arms, put aside your difference of race, creed, or
state. To arms my brother, my sister! The REAL war is at hand.

P.S. For those of you in the Sentaari and Shallam. I have left
my city and guild, but I have not left you all. Nay, rather, my love
you has increased. I have set aside these distinctions as an
example to others, that the true light may shine more resplendant.
Perhaps, in the future, I will rejoin you. For now I must focus on
the battle at hand.

Carathean

Penned by my hand on the 20th of Miraman, in the year 238 AF.