Fair tidings,

I second the words of my Wytchdoktor, should any Wytch hunter harm even
the single hair upon the head of my brothers and sisters, then shall I
hunt them to their very last breath. None shall stand against my fellows
in anger and malice, with rude words, and violent cause.

You shall get but one warning, and that has been delivered already. Stop
your foolish wish to destroy us, or it shall come back upon you with the
furious vengence of all the Netherworld.

In service,
Uldrin, Runic Sage.

Penned by my hand on the 5th of Tenebrae, in the year 449 AD.