Hail. Coolest of autumn tidings to you, Mister Cups.


Long have the peoples of Sapience known that two cups brings tidings of all sorts; it is a prelude to conversation on topics of history of knightly virtue. It signals the warmth of tea's arrival, and the warming of hands and spirits that follows. On occasion, it is even the antecedent to the muffled sounds of forestal violence.

Always two cups. Not more, not less; for one cup is an insult, unable to do anything but tease and barely whet the whistle. Three, of course, is civilized bourgeois decadence, and is to be avoided outside of celebratory occasions.

This was the way of things for centuries; as it ever was, as it ever must be. The people of Sapience were, if not happy with this arrangement, understanding; two cups is a signifier, a sign, a signal.

You have sullied the meaning of this act through your deeds; now, even children recoil as they receive their customary two cups, for in their minds they wonder whether these two cups are the same two cups whose presence preceded ill tidings and theft to our cousins in the Aalen. And for bringing such disrepute to the noble two-cup tradition, I will have my vengeance come flood or flame.

In the mean time, my quest shall continue to reclaim the honour of those who would deliver the customary two cups of tea to the peoples of the world. Your acts may not be forgotten, but I give my assurances that they will be rectified.


In strength,

Sir Aodfionn Wintermourne
the Knight Arbiter


Penned by my hand on the 15th of Glacian, in the year 997 AF.