Reading your rather far-reaching and ignorant post, my only conclusion
is that you should continue your quaint study from the shadows in
silence. You speak of those people with certain antimagick professions
coming together and smiling and laughing as if it is the norm, a great,
utopian joining of hands that is the inevitable march of progress. If
the world is marching towards a congregation of swarthy thieves, I'd
rather hold on to my antiquated notions of honor and solitude. I find it
rather amusing that these people call out their names as Wardancers,
Monks, Clerics and the like, and yet are on the lam from the
organizations they so delusionally consider themselves owed that name
from.

Magick is not ingrained in every part of the world. It smells, not
unlike a rotting egg. It's disgusting and I cannot harbor it for long
without tasting bile at the back of my throat. I can walk along the
dunes every day of my life and never feel the slightest touch of the
magick influence, unless that it is brought there by some avatar
wielding it. I've not even felt a surge as of my time on the walks of
Aetherius, and I'll be happy if I never do, so it won't induce me to
whatever "superior levels of thought" you might consider yourself as
having obtained.


My fight against magick has never been, nor I imagine ever shall be in
the name of the Gods. Rather, I wage it in the pursuit of the casting
down of arrogant, ignorant people not unlike yourself, who cast their
sarcastic grins from under half-lidded eyes in the shadows, spitting in
disdain at the thought that not everyone believes that having their
brains jostled by magickal surges or recieving the blessing of a God who
endorses the sickening smell of rotting flesh or baleful magick are good
things.

Please return to your shadows.


Welam Agarwaen

Penned by my hand on the 19th of Bellum, in the year 514 AD.