Dear Strixena Draconis; Duchess of Easterly,
My name is Mortificer Mhòrdha; my title: Marquis; my March: Witchmount; my lands: Arathi.
I am told that you are cunning, and that you are ruthless; I find these to be admirable qualities, rather than the so-oft-praised “kindness” and “virtue”. Ours is a ruthless world, and one must be ruthless to have any hope of surviving it.
The winds of war howl on the horizon. In fallen Lordaeron, the Witch-Queen schemes the downfall of our kin. The legion has been defeated, for now, but Azeroth bleeds and weeps in her dying thrashing.
My cousin has wounded my March in his greed, and though he has been hanged for his crimes (of which there are many, and vile) it falls on me to ensure that Witchmount is restored to the power and influence it held on the eve of my birth eighty seven years ago.
I am told that you protect you and yours, that to strike at the lowest of your banner is to strike at you. Such loyalty is something I hold in high regard. Such loyalty is something that I desire in my allies.
It is my belief that Easterly and Witchmount can offer a great deal to each other. Our shrouded forests cultivate a staggering number of rare herbs, and our oaken lumber is well-suited to producing more ships for your armada. It is my understanding that these are goods difficult to come by in your Duchy.
On the matter of more exotic wares, I am proud to disclose that my March has invested in the process of taming and subjugating the local raptor population. Our first stock for export is not immediately available, but I invite you to visit Witchmount to discuss the implications they could hold for your armies.
It is my wish that this message finds you in hale and hearty health, and that you take my offer of alliance under consideration. We could be much stronger standing together than the sum of our separate parts.
Mortificer Mhòrdha; Marquis of Witchmount
