My dearest mother.
I crave pardon for mine absence from the Empyrean Freedom festivities. Dragon Lord Tiamat, long may she reign, tasks this poor wretch with clearing her new demense.
With remembrance of humble duty unto you and ever my affection,
Your dutiful son,
Mesanepada
My dearest mother.
Today, venture I unto the Idian Depths.
'Tis a new landed level. We chase and catch, snap at the bootheels of the local sapiens, and they burrow themselves into this darkness.
They have not so much military might as they do space to retreat. And yet they fight on and on, such that Tiamat cannot spare my sword or my claws. No, not even for Emmenluana's naming day.
With remembrance of humble duty unto you and ever my affection,
Your dutiful son,
Mesanepada
My dearest mother.
(A thick bloodstain glops over half the crumpled page.)
Hourly, I wonder if the Danuar do harry our forces more than we lessen theirs. For every scout group we send out, they kill two.
Methinks, I feel swirling energy from a deeply concealed vault. It wraps me in its alien embrace. Mayhaps, I have found the weaponry, all unwitting.
Furthermore, (MESSAGE REDACTED).
With remembrance of humble duty unto you and ever my affection,
Your dutiful son,
Mesanepada
My dearest mother.
I found it! The weapon! Me! Your little Mesapa.
It saddens me to report that my searches mean little. The Danuar used my bauble to wipe themselves out. For their demise, I take full credit. For the weapon's destruction, I shall remain mum.
How may these tidings affect my chances of promotion? I remain unsure.
With remembrance of humble duty unto you and ever my affection,
Your dutiful son,
Mesanepada
My dearest mother.
Ah, the sweetness of success! My failure needeth not be abject.
One Hyperion remains. Mayhaps its hide bears the marks of fiery Ide, but this poses no trouble for Tiamat. O, effulgent and glorious Dragon Lord!
With remembrance of humble duty unto you and ever my affection,
Your dutiful son,
Mesanepada