I read it as undeffed.

Underfed has a hyphen?

(Harbingers): Urazial says, "Have you considered a future as Dark Marshall?"

See what happens when you complain of the Harbingers not talking?

Eventru, Crown of the Exalted, shouts, "Mortals, I have grown bored. Entertain
Us with a poem. The one who is the most pleasing shall bear Our favour."

Eventru, Crown of the Exalted, shouts, "What, is there a shortage of poets? We
remain bored."

You shout, "Roses are crimson, yes indeed. Prick your finger, and you'll bleed.
Thorns of steel, tainted fire, burn you like a funeral pyre!"


You see Disciple Hyde, Dark Whisper shout, "Sing me a song, a deathly tale, two
cities at war, two showers of hail, if one should win, then the other is lost,
but all is fair when you consider the cost."


Eventru, Crown of the Exalted, shouts, "A good start indeed. But how about some
praising Our glory?"


Grunt Morhgor Harklen, Ur'guard Initiate shouts, "Silence is golden or so they
say, why not keep your shouting for another day?"

You shout, "A Golden Jester, tall and proud. He lives among Celestia's clouds.
Though we laugh and revile His name, his own city, doth do the same."


Aquamage Syridean shouts, "Tides of war, rage so hot. Your flowery words concern
me not. Silvered toungues and wisdom go not hand-in-hand. In the end, the silent
shall soothe the land."


Father Talkan La'Saet, Loyalty of Exultation shouts, "A Traitor, fearing for his
life, decides to spend the rest of his days with the miserable and trite."

You shout, "Golden Lord, He once served Fain. Kneeling down, He praised Fain's
name. He denies it, but we all know, He run right back if given the chance."

A precise lance of scorching blue flame shoots across the heavens.
You have barely a fraction of a second to feel a dread foreboding before the
lance of flame slams directly into your chest, filling your mind with white-hot
pain and seeming to set every nerve in your body aflame. When you finally begin
to breathe again, there is surprisingly no mark upon your form, but a weakness
of mind and body remain to attest to Fain's anger.

(Order): Fain says, "Shaddus, shut up."


Coldly, Sthai Oubliette, Clockwork Amaranth says, "Fools. Illusions, merely."

The aether ripples as the rapturous voice of Eventru, Crown of the Exalted
booms, "Golden Lord, We served no Traitor - friends betrayed Us, and mortals
whisper lies. Now We shall punish them."

A stream of crackling blue fire sizzles across the sky.
You hear a high-pitched screaming noise and instantly a bolt of blue, crackling
energy strikes your mortal body. Your back arches as pain explodes in your
brain. Blue fire erupts through your eye sockets and mouth as you die in
unspeakable agony.
You have been slain by Eventru.


The aether ripples as the rapturous voice of Eventru, Crown of the Exalted
booms, "And Our aim remains even and ever true. Ah, Dynara named Us well, didn't
She?"


The cold, compassionless voice of Fain, of the Red Masque knifes through the
ether, "Indeed, you served no traitor. Once you knelt and did Me obeisance, and
surely you will again in time. But never a traitor did you serve nor shall you."

Dead, Prayed, Alive.

(Order): You say, "I beg you forgive my impudence, Lord. My hatred for your
enemy seems to have overcome the little common sense I hold."


Crimson lightnings rumble ominously across the darkened clouds.


(Order): Fain says, "Your poetry is excerable, Shaddus."


(Order): Fain says, "But the irritation you did Eventru pardons you in My eyes."