Lord British:
I bid thee greetings, fellow citizens of Britannia. 'Tis not a joyous or uplifting message I bring to thee this night, for our realm faces a great flux and change. I often stand on the castle wall as the day grows faint and gaze out into the realm. In times past, mine eyes would rest upon pale leaves fluttering in the winds as a playful magpie dodged among the branches of a majestic tree. A small nest among the frail upper branches was the magpie's home. It swooped down to the ground to find berries and grain, despite constant danger from many predators. When a particularly fierce wind tore the magpie's nest from the tree, the small bird resolutely began searching for small twigs with which to rebuild its home. Whenever a traveller passed within its vision, the magpie never failed to chatter to its visitor welcomingly, willing to share its home and territory. Season after season, the little magpie lived life through both adversity and delight, but a time came when I saw the magpie no longer. I strode to the tree to find if it was hurt. As I approached, a tainted breeze beset me. The rancid for of a zombie raised itself from the base of the tree. It launched a feeble swipe at me with a bloated and oozing fist, but 'twas easily evaded and I revoked the foul energies that gave the zombie its twisted translation of life. The tree had obviously suffered greatly from the presence of the zombie and was dying, but I could find no sign of the magpie. Disheartened, I turned and began walking back to the castle. Lost in contemplation, my steps wandered a bit. My path took me past a small willow and I was welcomed by a warm twittering. I looked in among the diverging branches, nestled not far from where I stood, was a small nest and standing on a branch not far from the nest was the magpie. Undaunted by the loss of its tree, the magpie had found a new one and was starting again. Hope and promise filled its songs. When I now look out upon the land there is turmoil and anguish. The terrible evils wrought by Minax recently have brought out the best in many of our fellow Britannians. We have bravely fought her at every turn and have managed to thwart the dark witch and yet the war continues to rage. Minax has marshalled a massive force that she intends to bring to bear on our realm, laying waste to all in her path. Startlingly, this is not the end sought by Minax, Britannia is more than the object of her hatred. Minax seeks more than just satisfying her lust for revenge. Make no mistake, she desires those greatly and holds no love for us. We remind her of all she once had and yet lost and she blames us for that loss. Yet an even greater need than revenge and hatred drive Minax. This need overpowers even the twisted delights Minax derives in tormenting those she abhors. The domain in which Minax resides has been depleted. Her land is an empty husk that is diseased and broken and Minax has no choice but to abandon it and leave it to die. Simple contempt would be enough for Minax. Revenge more than ample reason, but added to the fervor of her attack is the desperation of a cornered rat, with but little choice other than to crawl her way to a new sanctuary. We do not yet have any means with which to bar Minax from our realm. If we cannot destroy her, then we would be forced to share this realm with Minax and her minions. Even were that possible, she would not hesitate to devour this land as she did the one before it. She would not spare any effort in ensuring that this land is hers. She would not be willing to share. Minax does not play well with others. The attacks on our realm grow ever bolder and more destructive. Not even our beautiful shrines to the eight virtues have been left free of the onslaught of Minax. Our victories in Trinsic and in battle elsewhere, have only spurred Minax to further heights. We have but little time before she unleashes her hordes upon us. The moment is upon us forthwith, there can be little delay. As did the resilient magpie, we must find comfort in a new nest. Rest assured that it will be virtually indistinguishable from the one we now inhabit, but safe with the knowledge that Minax will be unable to enter. Ready thyself, one and all. The time comes quickly. Nystul, even now, begins to prepare the means and in but short days hence, we shall away.
