Athiyk, Servant of Hate. Tier'Dal Royalty.

[Nightblade]

Unbridled hatred leaves one blind when one needs to see clearly. Would you go rushing into the setting sun against a shield wall on the enemies' terms, on his chosen ground? No.

The crow calls the raven black, and you speak of contempt. Bide thy time, to become fury unrestrained on our terms. Ensure our victory with patience, until the breeze blows sickly, and the moon bleeds; until He, who's name drowns out all others, levels His glare at the ripe fruit of new lands, and says, "Claim it, in the name of all that is dark."

Listen all you wish to those that cower behind their chattel, their pets, waving jewel-bedecked fingers and speaking of pride, hatred, and glory in battle. But remember, Treason is that which puts a dagger to the throat of the heedless, the lame, the unworthy.