S
Sarla
Guest
Sarla stands on the deck of the ship currently in the midst of the river surrounding the City with a sul'dam and damane. Nodding to the sul'dam, the damane starts weaving, and Sarla begins to speak, her words booming out over the din of the fighting.
Dearest Leyley, Mistress of the Marath'Damane,
It is the greatest of honors that I allow your heathen ears to hear these few words, spoken by my own Voice. I give you and your ignorant servants this one and only chance to peacefully surrender to me. You will all make for wonderful Damane, and killing you would unnecessarily tire my Deathwatch Guards. You will all take to the leash wonderfully, of that my Der’sul’dam is certain. Do not bother pleading for your freedom. Even if you weren’t already damned by your cursed blood, your interference with my future domains would doom you. Your selfish, short-sighted meddling has crippled those under your “guidance” for far too long. I am thankful for your weaknesses, as so many have already willingly kneeled before me and the peace that I mercifully bring them, but I am also disgusted to see how unprepared these lost scions of Hawkwing are for the Trollocs and Forsaken sworn to serve Caisen Hob.
Your city will fall, and your charges will burn. I will see you all dead, if necessary. You were raised ignorant of your true position in life, but know now that you are cursed, unworthy of the freedom that even the simplest farmer enjoys. To best serve the Empire, I expect your absolute submission. You shall all re-swear your oaths to the Crystal Throne, and don your a’dam with joy in your hearts. If you obey promptly, perhaps I will allow you to be taught by my own Sul’dam. You have twelve hours to decide. Do not disappoint me, child.
Empress Aldralin Mondwin, First of the Last