A Letter left for Sister Amelie

[Leon of Maedhros]

Sister Amelie,

I pray this missive bearing Warad's seal makes it to you in good health. This letter is penned perhaps in a reflection, albeit a selfish one.

Do you ever wonder of the weight behind kingly decree? Fate's eluded me to the details of history between the Sultanate of Baz'eel and the Twin Crowns of Kulkund.

But the High Dwarves of Kulkund have a word for Agaslakku. Some mistake it as a name, and I know too little of the Dwarvish tongue to discern clearly, but I believe Coordum is a title that perhaps means Exiled One, or it could be a direct translation of what they call him; the Murderer. Traitor or betrayer may fit as well.

Enough of my aimless musings, however. I've lost some train of my thoughts but I assure you, I ponder them for the good of the Wheel and you know this city far better than I. It is to be reckoned by us that the High Dwarves gave Agaslakku this title for he bore the gift of fire to the Thousand Clans, whom now in hordes chant His name, offering bounties of blood to the Conqueror. They then marched upon Kulkund, weakened by civil strife, and laid waste to vast swathes of the Upper Realm. No survivors but those of refugees finding a place in some of the city ramparts - the Tablets - are known.

I've come to think dearly upon this. I have known my fair share of bloodshed, both of sweat and of blood in which I have defended my people, my friends and my lands-- as a soldier, as a father, as now a faithful sworn to our Noble Lord, Warad Who Wanders. Perhaps then you've come to collect why I call this belief selfish, for it favours my God above all, yet I come as a messenger of the Wheel as is our duty, we Waradim. We spread the word, we protect the shrines, we ensure the Wheel protects and the Wheel provides.

Yet too, are we the Last Man. The watchers upon the walls, the spearmen at the gates, the mighty few to hold off the onslaught that comes for us all. Be it the Hundred Princes who pay heed to the wretched Ninth spoke, His name we utter naught, or their Masters, who once enslaved my forefathers. Be it worse, and see it far more severe, the Thousand Clans whom worship Agaslakku, the God of War who cares only for bloodshed and conquest and the belief that what one bears, should be plucked from the cold hands of your enemies. An old way of life, that feels so distant and isolated from the belief in my heart I hold that the Wheel stands to protect and to guide our flock, to bring about Warad's peace is a thing we all strive for, but it is not the way of Agaslakku.

I ponder of dangerous things, Sister Amelie. I ponder of upheaval in our treasured Wheel, I speak words of treachery upon Mother Baz'eel that I would see Agaslakku the Warrior given King Archaz' Law. I would see the Speakers of the Wheel who ushered in the great word for generations in their ancient realm recognized and no longer scorned for the mere message it sends that we praise Agaslakku, the Murderer who decimated their clans and their people.

But I would not invite Izdu's wrath. I should like first to delve into this matter, and discuss it among peers and betters before I make a fool of myself in front of our blessed world of theology, and the gravitas that comes with the weight of faith. Would you be willing to arrange this, in a way that is discreet?

Forgive me if I overstep and ask too much of you, for I am a stranger; but I wear Warad's garb and I speak the words, and I need to know for all folk must when pressing matters concern all they know. From the writings of that man I had shown you, on Origins of the Wheel and his lofty claims of knowledge desecrated in the Great City, and now my pleading heart for the plight upon Kulkund and justice upon this god who wears any coat bathed in blood, who would call himself a prodigal brother of the Wheel.

Agaslakku is no brother of Warad. Let it be so.

Peace upon you,
Warad's grace.

Leon of Maedhros
Windmaker of Warad

[Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi]

[The letter is received.]