[!] 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