Dear, Beloved Realms
I wish to again thank King Alexander Cecil, of many titles, for their hospitality. We had a lovely time. We will return the favor, in our time.
We understand that… news travels slow, and travels strange, perhaps my voice was too soft, my meaning too murky… We do not wish to hide anything from our future friends. So what was told to king will now be spoken to company.
I am the Witch of Gimlet, I used to have a name but names have power, and I traded mine away on a brighter future. I go by many TITLES but no names, Some refer to me as Hag… but that is very unkind.
Hopefully in the future the title you will use is “Friend”.
My master, Sir Guthrevyn has been wandering, searching for a home ever since our hometown was seized by his treasonous kin… but do not weep for we have learned, we have watched, and we were judged yes, and gathered so many other judged kin. But we have been patient.
Eagles Rook is ours, by Blood and past. We owned it before your masters masters. And we want our lives back.
And we were in those discussions, we must stress it was not Iawen who challenged our claim but the Fae, the Blue Forest.
The Fae who have dimensions to call their own, who have the kingdom of Chimeron as allies. They have plenty, the fae do not need be fatter off Eagles rook, and yet, November still says more.
He and his kin have interrupted our reunification to strike a harder deal with Eagle’s Rook, one where Fae have even more ties and authority then they already do. To assist in this they messaged Yule, and brought a titan into mortal affairs.
We do not wish to undersell things, but when forces are marching from behind a magical veil of hope, if you are to protect your own… well how do you destroy hope?
It is not pleasant work, and we do not wish it on our worst enemies. November however, seems to wish for more.
We did not go to Black and White to demand that Alexander, champion of our god Dionin, to join us in holy war against the fae. To take up sword where pen failed… though that is what his god asks of us. But we understand that can be difficult for them. All we wish is to be left alone. You have strangers, you have Asmodeus, you have Risen Kingdom, evil Imperiums, Lost Kingdoms, are you all not busy? Do you not need rest?
Let this small thing go, save the world.
Well... that WAS the case, but, alas. We were struck, in court, my aching boils nearly cut, it was a near thing, a precious near thing, that I was able to quell my defensive hexes… I would hate to have caused a scene.
Now the failed assassin did not come forward, so we suspect this was no declaration of war… how could it be? If they lacked the conviction to say with words what their actions did? But… we worry you see.
We already asked for peace, we have no plans to be cruel in victory, we wont hurt the denizens, shatter their chapels, burn their flags. We have heard these are the customs of war, but we are of kinder ages. But… we fear much, we fear further meddling, further rituals and escalations and fae trickery and treason.
When we were struck by a failed thief Invictus offered us safe escort, we ask for similar gestures, not to solve our problems for us, but assistance in avoiding unnecessary escalation.
If possible we hope to see you all again on fairer terms. We heard Sir Coupant used to host feasts, we are eager to continue that tradition.
Witch of Gimlet
Mother, Magician, Friend
