Sartan,

I have long sat idle whilst you've waged your battles against the other
divinities. That time has come to an end. You are utterly foolish to
think that I would allow a direct assault upon My domain to go
unchallenged. You have gone too far, usurper.

We will grind you and that pathetic mud hole called Mhaldor into the
ground. Reap what you have sown.

In Darkness,
Twilight, the Thrice Great

Penned by my hand on the 22nd of Daedalan, in the year 326 AF.