Dawnlord, and his pitiable pawns,

I am truly baffled by your words. You claim to offer us Hardship, and a chance to exemplify His Truths. You claim that you stand tall and strong in the face of brutal defeat. All these words ring hollow in the face of what actions have wrought.

Your city lies in ruins. The guards you depend upon so often have been continuously slaughtered. Your assaults have been thwarted in spite of your overwhelming forces. You beg Eleusis for their tanks because you cannot hold your own. You have already been defeated, Dawnlord. There is nothing left for us to prove to the world with regard to this pathetic war you arrogantly thrust upon us.

You demand an extension? You declare it hypocritical of Evil to turn down this offer? I wonder if your Judicator thought himself worthy of the Master's attention when He spurned the blasphemous wretch in lieu of grovelling before the Him and the Lightbringer. The simple truth of it is this: you have not proven yourselves worthy of a fight. You have not proven that you have the strength of body, mind, and spirit to challenge the Soldiers of Baelgrim. You clutch at hope, suckling upon its dregs for some miracle. There shall be no miracle to answer you, for your hope has been crushed.

You are worthy of nothing more than the defeat and loss you have already suffered at our hands. Surrender with what little dignity you have left.

In Service to Him,

Aegoth Aristata
Consul of the Wicked
The Holocaust King


Penned by my hand on the 16th of Sarapin, in the year 833 AF.