Primus Rumnaheim.

You are to be congratulated for your career of merciless, bloodyhanded
slaughter, if not your service to the Church of Achaea. You are to be
castigated for your ignominious failure, at what could have been your
moment of revelation.

You are tormented by the murders you have committed, yet you realize
little of what you have truly accomplished. Behind each dead, smashed
Gnoll is a veritable sea of torment. Soldiers losing their comrades,
families losing sons, wives losing husbands. Children who will grow up,
never knowing their fathers. The endless parade of funerals, as the best
and brightest of Manara are buried whenever the slaughter ebbs.

Yet in your moment of triumph, you succumb to weakness most foul. This
poisonous chancre, a result of your Church indoctrination, is what keeps
you from doing what you must to attain greatness. You were privileged to
spread Suffering among the Gnolls, and only the weakness of your own
conscience prevents you from realizing this.

There is no escape from Suffering in this realm: embrace the opportunity
that it provides, and see the possibilities within. What you visited
upon the Gnolls is but the least of the agonies that you are capable of
inflicting. Cast off your mortal bonds of conscience and morality, and
rise beyond the limits of your own capabilities.

"The mind may be made stronger through the elimination of conscience.
One does this by inflicting pain on others."

In service,
Father Wulfen
Tyrannus of Mhaldor

Penned by my hand on the 4th of Chronos, in the year 409 AF.