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<Most-recent entries follow.>
At first my rage at the failures on High Isle and Galen knew no bounds. I had set up everything for success. The alliance leaders should have died at sea, but they were too stubborn. And my Magus failed to kill them at All-Flags. If Lady Arabelle's champion hadn't killed the fool, I would have.
Then they foiled my plans on Galen. House Mornard would have fallen and I should have had a unified druid empire as my ally. Then I could have disbanded the Society of the Steadfast and replaced it with my Ascendant Order.
The Magus was too arrogant. Archdruid Orlaith too hesitant. I cannot allow others to fail me again. A new Druid King must rise to fulfill the prophecy and claim the sacred regalia.
I always intended this moment. It's my blood heritage, after all. I am the last living descendant of Druid King Kasorayn. Through my mother's bloodline, the legacy of the Bretons is mine to claim! I would have been content to let Orlaith rule for a time while I consolidated power and formulated plans. But she was too weak. I see that I must step forward now. I must replace the corruption of the Ruby Throne with the purity of the Ivy Throne. As nature demands.
When I claim the regalia and awaken the true power of Mount Firesong, I will bury the current order in fire and ash. And from those ashes a new order will rise. Not of brittle rubies and stone, but of ivy and vines and roots that entwine and grow and spread. A new Green Age will dawn, nourished on the blood of the old!