[!] A missive finds itself tacked upon the signposts of Providence, hastily-written in a moment of glee after the burnings in the Orenian capital.
THE BURNING OF OUR TOTEMS
“From stone to scale, my wings are torn,
A song of death do I sing.
A curse to fear, a rite to mourn,
Love not the pain I bring.
Splendor to dust, my soul forlorn,
We are your fallen Kings.
But now we die, to be reborn,
When Aenguls c