Greetings,

This is simply a note for all concerned.

I have left the city of Magnagora in order to pursue my research into
fulfilling my original purpose. I have gone, with my lovely wife
Luciden, to Hallifax in order to further my research, and hopefully
reshape my shattered mind using the logic found there.

However, as a parting note to Magnagora, there is something I wish to
note.

You failed to keep an insane old man from doing what he pleased. He
chased ducks, and covered your streets in butter. You allowed him to do
with the city as he willed, simply because he felt like it. You have
lost your teeth. And hunting me now would serve no purpose, as Magnagora
is no longer something I reconize as something worth bothering about
currently. Perhaps, in the turning of time, I might choose to allow
Myself to grace your petty masses again, but allow me to state this.


There is no fear in the serfs, save for an old man. There is no hatred
beyond petty squabbles. To Fain, all it is is meandering slaughter
without any feeling, blood with no passion or hate to heat it. Utterly
worthless trash, and the drivel that leaks from some people have begun
to bore me, even in my most lucid of moments.

Fain, trim the fat off the lubbers. Lord Raezon, shove some intelligence
between their ears. Put fire in their bellies, and fear down their
spines.

Love, with all my nine hearts, and that half of one I kinda nibbled on,

Jigan

Penned by my hand on the 14th of Dioni, in the year 276 CE.