Would-be decorated Sultan, esteemed candidate for the Caliphate, briefly Anointed Qashari, Dawnlord,

Despite the regurgitated zeal with which you dismiss your repeated failings and extol the virtues of your newest venture, the proven leaders of genuine city-states and tested religions learnt long ago to discard your smugly peddled offers and decidedly empty threats alongside your boorish presumptions of prowess and grandiose delusions of success.

What calls itself the Dawnspear has offered the realm no evidence of a shift away from its jewelled roots. There has been no inspired religious or military progress on the world stage, and it is evident to all observing that the culture of glorified mediocrity - long established by those who swam with you from the wreckages of your organisational failures - remains.

There are no soldiers quite like those of the East, who manage to reduce even the most potentially riveting conflict in history - that age-old war of Good and Evil - into nothing more than a series of almost-military clashes, which under the leadership of you and yours, are contorted into some thoroughly diluted game of determination in the face of utter tedium. While the warriors, leaders, priests and scholars of Mhaldor remain entirely superior to you and yours, there is no victory to be claimed here for Targossas. So long as there is any alternative, Phaestian 630AF's incarnation of Good has no place in this realm, and nor will any which follow.

Nevertheless, I invite you to continue with your sieges upon the faraway Vents of Hthrak, the Halls of Blackrock and the evening's ripened sewers - through Suffering may all grow stronger. In turn, Evil's gaze will continue to turn to you as is appropriate, in equal share with Darkness and, occasionally, Nature and Chaos.

Unwaveringly His,
Tyrannus Ruth Yuridja-Keyte, Sartai Navarch

Penned by my hand on the 12th of Phaestian, in the year 630 AF.