To Ithaquans, and TRUE Ithaquans alike,

Kinsarmar.

Khandava.

Celidon.

Stavenn.

If any of these names struck fear into your heart, you may as well kill
yourself now. Ithaqua has become a sad shell compared to what it used to
be. We are weak, where once we were strong. We are timid, where once we
were feared. I have seen the 'plans' for the future Ithaqua. Your
current leadership wishes to ride the tide. They wish to follow wherever
the current may take them. To Dis with that. Ithaqua is a land formed of
rebellion. Our bodies and minds should be forged of steel, and hardened
in the frozen lands of our birth. Despite what they'd have you belive,
we have NOT grown stronger over the years. Our teeth are dull, and our
claws chipped and worn.

There will yet again be a time where Ithaquans walk the streets of any
city or council they choose. The days of our limitless victories are not
yet done... Not unless you wish them to be. If you'd rather sit idly by
in your home as your forest is accosted by the tainted Magickers or
Demoners, then you may as well be dead. You're already dead to me.

I was expelled from our council, this much is true. Odds are, the
reasons the Wildgraf gave were true as well. Ithaqua (if it's current
state can still even be called Ithaquan) expelled me for treason. Was I
bandying about with our enemies? Was I selling sensitive secrets to the
magickers? Was I drawing a map of our defenses for the demoners? Hah,
you know the answer to these questions. Of course I wasn't. My crime was
simple, if it can be called a crime. I 'plotted' and 'schemed' to teach
teach young Ithaquans of our old ways. I 'conspired' to reignite a flame
that had long since died out. My goal was not to return old relegions.
My purpose was simply to learn from these Gods who helped build our
council. My mission was about as illegal as summoning the wisdom of our
ancestors.

There was once a day, Ithaquans. Those of you who were there know what
I'm talking about. Those who weren't, yet remain faithful to what
Ithaqua SHOULD be, long for the days you've heard legends about.

Whether or not we ever return to these days is up to you. Are you
willing to take action against injustice? Are you willing to risk your
own neck for a brother who cries out for your help? The choice is yours,
Ithaqua. My fate, and likewise your own, is in your hands. Do with it
what you will.


Penned by my hand on the 25th of Letum, in the year 539 AD.