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This isn't about me. I'm not this Morian. It's a different one. An imposter. A former edition cut by revisions. Edited with lies that's what this is. It's not me!
And who does this Seif-ij Hidja think they are? Writing about me and talking in my head. It's my name and my head, common courtesy is to bring a dish when you come calling. Knock on someone else's door and leave mine alone. Move on and move out and go on your own life journey. You can have that much, you cannot have me.
Why does the name Divayth Fyr sound familiar. Fur is warm but Fir is not. What about Fyr? Willowy. Bendy and not trustworthy. A speaker of secrets and a holder of truth. Like the ciphers. Can't trust his word, he won't even give it. Keep your books on not me. Fictional Morian of story book times and fictional pasts, you might have to run from the Fyr tree.
What is this drivel? Tell me more about the other realms. They're bad descriptions too. No mention of how Ashpit sounded with all the dust and motes in the air. The whirling static sounds like the Known Thing. A buzz of wasps that can't lift you in the air so they try to fill your lungs.
Coldharbour is accurate, for the most part but Moonshadow isn't beautiful. It's like crying a painting and there's only so much oil in the eye a person can stand before they want to tear everything out of their head and be done with it.
Where's the story about the man being flayed in front of me in Quagmire? I'm sure I recounted that in excruciating detail. If I had to see that then these readers should have to read about it in similar depth. I'm reading it now and I'm missing out on the horrors! This will not stand. Foolish work of fiction, why don't you reflect reality?
All in all, I will have to remember to draft a lengthy letter to this author. They're entirely incorrect and didn't take enough liberties with the truth. I want to be absorbed by all I read, not skip along the surface like an unfortunate fish, [sic]