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Posted upon both shrines to the Spirit of the Fire Dragon, these missives are written in short, clipped handwriting, yet still struggling to hide its usual flair.. 

The Spirit of the Fire Dragon does not speak in words. It is a presence, a steady burn that kindles in the marrow of its followers. Those who carry its breath within them feel it in the quietest hours- when the world is still, and the only sound is the crackle of their own hearth fire.

There, in the glow, clarity comes.

The Sundering’s spawn are not merely foes. They are affronts. Aberrations that twist the natural order, mock the rhythms of mortal kind, and corrupt the balance that the Dragon’s chosen and believing alike are sworn to preserve. To the uninitiated, they are nightmares- creatures of shadow and distortion, unshaped by the honest forge of creation.

But to the faithful, to us, they are prey.

The Fire Dragon’s breath stirs within you, as it stirs within me. You feel it even now, that ember deep in your marrow, whispering truth. The time has come to heed it.

The time has come to burn.

It is no coincidence these aberrations fear our Spirit's breath. It is no mere chance that It's weapon harms them. Hear me: It is not a choice that drives us. Not an ambition.

It is a purpose.

Go forth, children of the Flame. Go forth as hunters, as scourges, as living fire.

The Aberrations await us.