Ilsa

Long have there been rumors and fairy tales concerning the Dark Priest
within the village. I would like to thank you for sparing the dedication
of resources to discovering the truth of your existence. Many Elders
have forever wondered how my dear aunt eluded the Black Wolf for so
long, some however seemed to hide it.

You of all people, with your unending life, should possess a keen
understanding of the winds of change and the influence of the Moradeim
upon the current of time. The village is changing, the wind is shifting.
While the village does study the way of the past, tracing the footsteps
of our ancestors to better understand and handle the future, we do not
allow ourselves to become mired within the past.

We once called to the demons in despair and anger and they answered our
call, temporarily alleviating our pain and suffering with visions of
power, grandeur and the feeling of a full belly. Soon, the village
discovered the power and grandeur was nothing but smoke and mirrors and
that which we had poached ceased to exist and the hunger returned. The
Pit used us and we let ourselves be used.

Depending on which story you follow, the Black Wolf bestowed upon some
of the villagers the power to consume the dead to fuel the living. Those
like you, embraced this truth, wrapped your minds around it and made
death your life. Guided by the powers of necromancy, you once again
resumed the guise of a poacher, knowing no limits of temperance or
control as you fueled your life, which secretly fueled your own power.
The power you believed in as truth, that you trusted to satiate you,
served only to starve you further and increase the emptiness within.

The spirit of the Wendigo has been scarred and warped by such magicks.
The Wendigo has felt the pain of betrayal and deceit, guided by the
forces of magick for far too long. If you were unaware, the Wendigo is
the living incarnation of the Black Pine, and the woods bend to his
unconscious will. So tortured was the spirit of the Wendigo by the
phenomenon of magick, his essence grew to despise, to hate such
unnatural surges of power. Over time, the rage of the Wendigo manifested
itself into the backlash of the forest, striving to drive out the powers
that tormented his mind, body and spirit. Having already turned our
backs upon the powers of magick, choosing to rely upon our minds, our
spirits and our bodies, the Ithaquans took the example of our most Elder
spirit guide and chose to follow his truth. It is the Wendigo that
sustains our home, it is the Wendigo that allows us to call his forest
ours, and it is the Wendigo who seeks to protect us and our home from a
force which he deems a threat. As the Wildgraf and Feyn-al-Dracar I
cannot simply discard the actions and beliefs of one so wise and
experienced in our village, one whose lifespan dwarfs your own.

Times care changing my dear Aunt, if your power is so true and flawless,
you will not have trouble surviving elsewhere. Or you can find true
strength and forsake the powers of magick and necromancy and continue
your life as an Ithaquan. There are rumors of priests of death who have
faith without necromancy, who accept the Truth without magick. Kind of
like the rumors of a Lich within the Black Pine.

~Kabal Brynja, Wildgraf of the Ithaqua


Penned by my hand on the 10th of Ultio, in the year 466 AD.