Though originally this 'treaty' was designed to serve 'the cessation of hostilities' (I think that's how it was phrased, but if I would really care, I would not write this post), it is now worth no more that this poem indicates:

Shrines are gold,
Iron pyrite is blue,
There is no peace,
No &*$^ing treaty too.

Until a real treaty is worked out for true hostility-cessation purposes, unsoiled by personal or group agendas, I predict that posts like this one, which has very little wisdom to share, shall not stop.

Torgum Wyvernwing, the sick-and-tired-of-this Predator

Penned by my hand on the 20th of Glacian, in the year 238 AF.