Are you city folk going to talk, or are you going to fight? We could sit
here and hold a League of Nations (whatever that means) until we're all
blue in the face and are cranky old men and women (which some of us
already are). If you're going to talk, talk. If you're going to fight,
fight. If you're going to argue and bicker amidst yourselves like those
school children in Mirudraas's lovely tale, go into a room with each
other and hold a good old innercity convention. War has been declared,
get busy doing something about it besides resurrecting what's been dead
and gone for years. I can hear the founders of your cities turning in
their graves.

Now that I've said my piece, I have to go rat again.

With the Light of the Moon and the impatience of a novice,
Ostie


Penned by my hand on the 21st of Sarapin, in the year 290 AF.