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"The Mountain speaks a great song: The Left-Handed Path." The Chosen spoke.

From ashen beaches, the An-Gho unveiled Alistair's message. He penned a letter back to the Red. "Asioth is described by our Father as a gift. But verily, it is a key. A key to challenge mortality, finitude, and cycle. Alatariel, the lost leader of the paladins, understood this. And for that, she was a worthy opponent. But now they are gone. In failing to understand the wheels of this World, they are pre-destined to fail. They can never win, precisely because they do not understand. Even should we fall, even if we should all be struck down besides our father, X*n cannot win. Why? Because his soldiers are blind."

Receiving the letter, the Uruk would read it before reciting a prayer to Kor himself. Once he read the contents of the letter, he would grab a shovel and walk over to the shore of the lake surrounding Caza de Lur. "Latz will be remembered ziztur agh mi will make zhure latz get a proper burial." He solemnly says to himself, as he begins to dig a grave and prepare for the burial of his good friend.

The Crest of the Champion is affixed to the letter. To the Dead-Eye of Veritas Alicjo Verrana, If that Paladin was named Redwulf, then you may have my regards, he was an affable enough warrior and met his fate with bravery and faith. In the past, many of your kind have taken the wise chance to transform and escape their duty. The Sunlit Lord is a cruel benefactor, even long after you are dead, he shall reclaim your soul and throw you into the meatgrinder, to die over and over again in feuds between himself and the Dragonkin, or even in feuds between himself and the Heavenly Court as seen in the Inferi Crisis. It is very unusual for the Father of Titans to offer that deal to one of your kind. All of us despise the tendency of Paladins to recite vicious rhetoric and then dwell in their keep on Dwarven lands in Urguan, never to sally forth and meet us in combat. Only Redwulf remained after his Druid and Paladin allies fled and left him there. If it were up to me, I would sever the connections of those who abandoned him, there is no truer show of cowardice. There was a girl who was brave enough to stand with him who I kicked down a hill. I asked her, “Why do you bother? They must not care much about you if they send young girls after me.” She relented quickly after that and assured me she would grow stronger before coming before me again. Tell Xan to stop sending little girls after me. I will gladly fight you Alicjo or a Keeper of Xan if they come and issue their challenge, but these dime-a-dozen "do-gooders" simply will not do. That being said, the Titan’s message remains for all Keepers who will take it: Conjure forth Sordran and bring him before the Black Titan, and you shall be allowed to leave once we capture you. The traitor must face punishment for betraying his kind to serve masters who will simply kill him if they were to succeed in this war of extermination. We honor the death of Redwulf as the first sad but necessary step in destroying the Order of the Golden Lion once and for all. For all the brethren that we have lost to failed peace deals, to druid treachery, and the list goes on. You would have been impressed to see that “Redwulf” channeled the Aengul Xan with his body and that he delivered a rending strike through the air that pierced many of us, including me in my Superior Form. A goliath nearly two feet tall sent hurtling through the air and into a pit of lava. Let there be no question that Redwulf was given his trial-by-combat before Azdromoth, and that he lost to Azdromoth at the very end, his golden pools of ichor staining our holy halls as he crumbled into an ethereal mist that was returned to the Sunlit Lord’s realm for judgment. Once you stumbled across me in the wilderness and we had a long conversation on your duties and convictions – the fealty that you owe your erstwhile Lord, and how you would opt never to stray from that path. The venom with which you write is concise enough, it demonstrates your convictions rather well, but it also betrays your frustration with the indolent Order of the Golden Lion. While in the past I had my doubts about the motives guiding my people, I have realized now that the only option is to pursue a higher peace. A peace that can only be purchased with the utter destruction of the Paladins, and a fierce rebuttal to the genocidal tendencies of the Heavenly Court that deigns to try and extinguish the lives of my honorable people. We have opposed the forces of Iblees for generations, but nonetheless the Heavenly Court seeks our destruction all due to an ancient rivalry with the Daemon Dragur. Many of your kind deem Azdromoth accursed without considering the Curses of Iblees placed on the Descendants. Dwarves are vain and greedy, Humans are short-lived, the Uruks are cursed with bloodlust, and the Elves are cursed with sterility. It would seem that your kind share more in common with the Father of Titans than we share with him, for we bear no such curse, and endeavor always to purge taint from our body as one would any other illness. Our only curse is to be unloved in the Realms of Men, but these days that is the case for the Paladins of Xan as well. It must truly be foul to be doubly cursed. The Black Titan is free from the chains of Iblees and now commits himself to a mission of his own: Ascension. If you wish to stop all of us, so be it, you may try. To try and maintain the status quo and to eliminate any chance of us further driving a wedge between the High Heavens and the Earthly Planes. Alas, your opposition comes as no surprise to me. You may find me whence it pleases you to duel or speak. Let it be known that any of your brats that find themselves on the end of my sword shall be spared. I care only to fight a distinguished challenge - the Keepers of Xan. May we all die as well as Redwulf. Peace be upon his soul. Signed, Alistair the Red

Long ago amidst the fields outside of the Jade State, a military dictator remembered the images of the crying goat surrounded by occultist iconography and how potent power had been offered to that long lost friend who camped in those fields. ”Souka, they must think they’re in Yopinawa kakakaka!”

A soft breeze rustled a nearby tree, stirring her from her sleep. Beckoned to bear witness, she looks upon Villorik now. Amaya had never relished fighting or bloodshed, and Villorik knew this. If only he could hear me, she thought. If only . . . . . and suddenly, somehow, in a burst of golden light, Amaya was in that summer field again. "You don't have to kill her." "There is peace found in redemption, Villorik, and mercy found in peace," uttered the long-dead Queen. "Choose peace." And when he did, Amaya's soul could finally rest.

Another Agy lore to add to the books! +1 TOTEMS

Botsugo, the Grey Oni and disciple of the Yasu-Tori mused over the missive. "Dat depiction is very hoshoi!" He complimented the drawing.

Holy Ser MacSkaul would sit in his study while reading the missive. As he finished reading he would pray for the dead before going to check up on his wounded men.

Name: Hilda Brawn Age: 22 Residence: Tuvia Did you fill out the Census? Yes (IGN: ) ElvenHuntress (Discord:) elvenhuntress

"Plainly, you can speak. But when will you act?" The An-Gho's hand hovered over a forbidden note-sheet. "When you lose in the field, you can always try and win from behind walls.."

Jeffrey de Wees of the western wind temple overheard the chatter of his pupils on the news of the GOAT. Intensifying his kani training on his mu ren zhuang

[!] A letter is returned posthaste! Yagi-Jin; I am pleased that you have found the Temple’s amenities acceptable; yet still, it is foolish to claim that a man, or structure, might lay claim ownership to any such thing. No man may force the blossoming of sweet fruit - He may only aid in its cultivation. And so it is that I may only aid in the cultivation of the Temple’s good will and pleasant aesthetic, regardless of what state it finds itself in. I thus pose a question: Is the undoing of cultivation, truly, a display of strength? The act of striking at stationary forms can be accomplished by a falling branch, or the rumbling of the earth. Yet still, these things are incapable of associating such an action as a display of strength - the act is devoid of this meaning. We of Nichi-Jin are sympathetic to your yearnings. It is a miserable thing to seek strength, yet be so misguided by desire that you need to destroy to be seen; it is a childish thing. If you wish to be heard, I have heard you, and I shall aid you in mastering what it means to be truly strong. As you are undoubtedly aware, you may find our people at Nichi-Jin. I would venture to Hallowcliffe to bestow my blessings, but those Voidally-inclined men have rendered you EVICT. I shall also provide the names and summaries of those who reside within Nichi-Jin, so that you need not feel lonely. Should you insist that your strength is strength, this information shall aid you in showing it in person! Ugokoyama Danzen The former Arch-Lector, Danzen is the author of the Bestia Conlectia and the Ars Bellica In retirement, Danzen has undertaken the role of Jūshoku of Nichi-Jin, with the charge of aiding the countless beings in tempering their souls in the pursuit of SOLACE. Ugokoyama Keiko The current GOAT of Koyo-Kuni and adopted daughter of Danzen, Keiko is the well respected Shrine Maiden and caretaker of the country. Recently she has taken to sparring with countless, pretty strong enemies to attain her center. It is said she can carry ten jugs of water at once. Ugokoyama Kintaro The automaton son of Danzen, Kintaro is the GREATEST HERO to ever live. Though soulless, Kintaro possesses far more SOUL than any man. He glistens beneath the Koyo-Kuni Sun per his well oiled joints and polished chassis. It is said that he has slain over two evildoers. Sen A Paladin of a bygone age, Sen has come to Danzen in search of a new way. Finding refuge within the confines of Nichi-Jin, Sen yearns to lead his Paladins in such a way that might accrue the most Merit and Goodwill, rather than the coveting of glory and ego. Richard A Paladin of Othaman lineage, Richard has proved himself a noble warrior throughout the many conflicts that he has found himself in. Though perhaps a bit antique in his views, Richard’s heart is great and vast, and would just as easily hug you as chop you down! Should you wish to speak with an audience, I have also developed an automaton device known as a “microphone” which may amplify your voice. I implore you to speak into it.

The Red Lich, Gashadokuro, himself saw this. A fire burns in the dead's stomach, whispers addling his hollow skull. The Oni-Lich took this as an insult, as opposition seeking to take his territory. "Invasion.. turns.. North.." Behind this hulking monster of an Archlich, a hellgate bled sinister lights.

"Waging war against good people is bad for the soul." Quoted Takemura, as he looked over the destroyed LIGHTSTONE nodes.

A newly embraced Centurion notes this track is topping the Immaculate Palace charts.

Bor of Hazum, Voice of Mugmar read over the missive, raising a brow as a metallic jaw clanged open "Bor thunk taht tis Goat ahm exactleh waht eht sounds loike - Loivestock readeh fer teh Baggis ohr Stew, HO-HAR-HO!" chuckled the Hill Giant Warlord and Spiritual Leader from within the Hazum Encampment, the lumbering fellow going to tend to his mammoth herd soon after, offering one of them a small loaf of Goat-Baggis, and strangely, the elephantine beast consumed it with great joy, an omen of victory perhaps, thought Bor. . .

When asked about the man named as Alicjo Veranna, the one known formerly as the Dark Lord had this to say.. "Alicjo the Wyrmtongue." He thought, placing one leg over the other. "The man has a rigid attitude, but above all else.. expels a flame from his breath more volatile than any dragon's."

“Yeah, I was a huge inspiration when he wrote it,” Elimar tells the elven babes at the festival.