Written in an elegant but hurried script on fine parchment

My Dear Feathered Nuisance and Friends,

You’ve been deliciously inconvenient! The Weaver is practically pulling his hair out over your little stunt with that Hollow Threshold. Watching him scramble has been the most entertainment I’ve had in decades.

Unfortunately, your meddling means my theatrical friends have decided to rush their grand finale. No more waiting for the winter solstice when the planes practically kiss each other - they’re settling for the new moon. Twelve days, if my counting is correct. Such impatience.

I do hope you’ll crash their little party. The Weaver plans to execute his grand ritual at the ancient battlefield where Nidhogg was sealed away ages ago. He promised he’d finally duel me once Nidhogg is free, but honestly? I’m starting to think you might give me a better fight. You certainly fight with more style than his shadow-drunk cultists.

Do try not to die before then. I’d hate to miss the fun.

With anticipatory bloodlust, Manus

P.S. - I left this poor fool some company. Consider it a warm-up. You’ll need the practice.