Wretch,

Kindly return to whatever hole it was you've crawled out of to remind us of the blistering annoyance that is your existence. You are, always have been, and always shall be a faded obscurity in the shadows of greater folk. When Creation suffers the rot that spills from your lips or scrawls, poorly written and misspelt, from the tip of your beleaguered quill, you do nothing more than remind all who are unfortunate enough to receive your missive how vile and lowly you are. You are less than nothing. I have wiped scum from my tub with greater virtue and character than you. You are nothing more than a bloated liar, sounding upon your own horn in the futile hope that someone mistakes you for a mortal of relevance.

Remember this, Fool like No Other, your words and your being are worthless.

Disgusted to have deigned to address you,
Taelle Starling

Penned by my hand on the 9th of Mayan, in the year 949 AF.