Dear Cyrius,

I must condemn your implication that using the locusts as income is
inferior, as for personal gain, it is one of the most profitable
activities found within the beautiful city of sand. I am sure that even
you, oh famed, great traitor of dust, er, trust, have even spent time
beating the ornery little bugs into stewmeat.

Also, I must point out that your recent posts, while very effective at
taunting and pointing out that you managed to betray our trust in you
and pilfer our coffers for several million dollars, are getting rather
onerous, and quite frankly, are not pointing you out as a greatly
intelligent traitor. You see, at first, I thought it rather clever that
you managed to fool us all. That you managed to lead an offensive force
into our city and kill a goodly number of guards. That you even managed
to make us think that you hated those whom you joined. I thought that
you must indeed be a very clever and intelligent sort of guy.

Then I heard you talk.

My mistake.

Let me put it to you straight, Cyrius. You are no more important or
famous than any other traitor ever will be. Your posts and taunts and
actions will live on in Antioch... only as long as our city logs last.
Not a mention of your actions will be made in years to come, no minstrel
will sing stories about you. I do hope that you feel important, and I
hope that you manage to raise the morale of Stavenn, because I am afraid
that here in the land of the Suns, you are no more important than the
ratburger I just ate, and no more detrimental to morale than a stubbed
toe.

And while I sit here, dallying on other perturbing things to discuss, I
realize that I have a rather pesky itch on my behind... which seems to
be grabbing more of my attention than you. So, if you'll excuse me, I
have a butt to scratch in your name.


Neko Savann, Patriot of Antioch

Penned by my hand on the 9th of Artificium, in the year 411 AD.