I'm certain that by now, Galt is already spewing his spittle all over
every form of communication that he can. I'll be short. Galt, his words,
and his actions have aggravated me for the better part of three decades,
likely longer. It was individuals like him, incessantly whining and
moaning about every possible thing imaginable, even lying and twisting
words, that drove me from that city.

Matters came to a head when he directly stated that I of all people was
not a magicker. I could not accept this to go unnoticed. In a single
act, likely more satisfying than anything I've done in years, I decided
to take action for his personal insult, and now his statue stands in the
Archives of Kinsarmar. My actions were my own for an insult directly
against me. As many of my enemies know, there are few places that those
who dare so powerfully insult me can hide. My being enemied to a city
does not deter me.

Kinsarmarians, there is a poison in your city more potent than that
which flows through a Drelith's teeth. I left to get away from it. You
might want to consider providing yourself with an antidote, whatever
that may be. Your city is crumbling, a pale ghost of what it was and
what it can be. The statue of one of the largest concentrations of that
poison in your city now stands in your archives.

I'll not be attacking Kinsarmarians, nor is this any declaration of my
malcontent toward any other being. Galt insulted me. Galt died. That
personal issue is all there is to it.

You may want to charge admission to see the statue, however. I'm certain
your city would fetch a fine profit from it, considering how many people
have wanted to see him dead over the years.


Sincerely,
Mathiu

Penned by my hand on the 19th of Artificium, in the year 541 AD.