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[Merci d'Rue]

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Merci was sickened by the approaching day of love, the virtuous exchanging tokens of esteem and love. So she sat in front of her writing desk and wrote a poem of love, and what it means to Umbra's Denizens. Then tying it up with a blue ribbon and marking it with her seal she sent it to Ceinwyn as an ode to the Matriarch's glory.


In the Sepulcher halls of Umbra, you find not the light of love,
You find not the grace of Virtue’s dove,

In this dead forest of dark eyes rotting,
Where evil does not sleep but lies plotting

Love does abound in silent form,
Love of night, death, and destructive storm.

Here the touch of hand is not innocent nor pure,
Within Umbra you will not find her poisons cure,

So mark you well to enter this den of dark,
Shunned well from the purgatory of light harsh and stark.

So lay down your mortal soul and spill your blood,
Dance with the demons in their dark red flood.

To Umbra give all your twisted love,
And slaughter Virtue’s pure white dove.
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May destiny guide you...