To
my King and my God, the Lord Dimwit Flathead the Ever-Subtle:
Swiftly
the winds blow to me the blessed news of your eternal and sweeping
mercy. Truly
Quendor counts itself amongst the most lucky of all worlds to have none
other
than your Holiness and Beneficence as its sovereign lord. Even in my
most
distant and frigid northern retreat, made ever worse, my Lord, by its
distance
from you, even in these grey mountains the sounds of your royal summons
bring
life to the very snow and ice. Truly, your word, my Lord, can do all
things:
the ancient Westlands break their fast on Antharian granola at your
whim. The
malodorous surmin smells as roses at your decree. My Lord, no mighty
steed, no
magical spell, nor even the shortest route across the magnificent
mountains
that bear your name can return me to your side as quickly as my heart
would
beg. Your servant in grateful humility,
Delbor of Gurth
To
Loowit Flathead:
Statue
of Dimwit annoyance to residents at Fublio. Stop. Annoyance revealed by
Megaboz
at dedication banquet. Stop. Dimwit dead. Stop. Brothers and sisters
all
dead.
Stop. You king. Stop. Empire to collapse in 94 years. Stop. Come
quickly.
Stop.
Delbor, son of Mumbar, son of Goobar, for the Regents of Quendor.
SOURCE(S): Spellbreaker (trading cards), A History of Quendor |