"The spirit may be made stronger by enduring hardships, both self-imposed and externally-imposed." - VII

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Citizens of Sapience,

Hear and know the will of the Malevolent Master.

For too long you have sat on your hands. You gave grown idle. You have grown weak. For too long you have wasted your potential, trading what you might have become for the pathetic creatures you are now. You have spilled your seed on undeserving soil and weakness has blossomed in your belly.

A new time is at hand!

Cast off the weakness that has rotted you to your bones! Renounce your pathetic Gods! Abandon the brittleness those ignorant cities infect you with, making you only fit to crumble beneath the heel of the Conqueror Iniquitous! Before it is too late, flee.

The day is coming when the might of Evil's Legions will raze the world, bringing doom and judgement upon all nations. Your children will weep, and then their cries will be silenced. The screams of your families will drone in your ear, the horror of their torment only eclipsed by the horror of the silence soon after. You will fall and the Lord of Evil's host of warriors will grow in strength.

So run west! As fast as your puny legs will carry you, run west. Throw yourself upon the stones! There you will not receive forgiveness. No, you will not be shown mercy. You will be given the blessing of discipline. Your hope rests in shackles and the only true freedom they bring! Embrace the Truth you've been too afraid to face. Embrace Evil.

Through suffering you will be cleansed of your weakness and be honoured to be numbered among the Lord of Evil's glorious Legion.

Your journey toward truth strength begins with the instructions inscribed on the slab at the gates of Mhaldor.


In servitio Malum,

[x] Adjutant Tyrannus, Grandue Xeh'ria, Keeper of Sartan's bloody Taint

[A small phallus droops atop a sunken "o" here, inscribed in crimson ink]
Penned by my hand on the 25th of Chronos, in the year 892 AF.