I find it fascinating the ways I hear from my dear readers these days. It seems that even the ‘unsavory’ types read an article or two in the dark alleys and secret taverns. When I arrived home from writing a few notes on my latest story last night, I saw a note with a flower pinned to my door with a dagger. Unfortunately, there was blood on the dagger, so I decided to leave it be and rip the note off to give it a closer look. I only hope the blood was strictly symbolic, and not indicative of a lost soul. The note read like this:

I have some news of great significance.

First, we are evolving from the name of Laughing Coffin. Henceforth we will be known as Leviathan.

This has been a change I have been longing to do for the past five months. When people whisper Laughing Coffin, they refer to us, and this fear has given me great pleasure. With our reputation secure, it is time to build on this and seek greater glory. We can only do this through distinguishing ourselves with a new name. After all who wants to be associated and tainted by upstarts who are looking to claim fame on our coattails? The progression that’s gotten us this far will serve as the basis for exploits not yet ventured.

Secondly I would like to take this opportunity to make an example of those who make threats about us and those who share in Leviathans lifestyles.

Kingdom of Vornair, you are going to be this example. We see your “neutral” judgements, as an “un-neutral” declaration of intent. We feel that this goes against our own neutrality and respond to your threats by our own declaration of war accordingly.

The Flower Picking Service has arrived.’


I wasn’t too surprised to find out Lo-Taren was behind this strange form of communication. In fact, it made my heart race a little after the last encounter I had with the Laughing Coffin now ‘Leviathan’. All of a sudden out of the shadows, a hood was thrust over my head and two strong men hoisted me into a cart and off we went. I remember thinking that I needed to organize some security for instances like this.

Just like last time, I found myself in a dimly lit room with plenty of faces obscured by the shadows cast from their hoods. I noticed the faint smell of sea salt and fish, perhaps I was on a boat this time? I couldn’t be sure.

Bradford J. Wilshire: “Hello again Lo-Taren. I see that your methods of gaining my audience are at least, consistent, even if slightly abrupt. I saw your note, and I am sure as you expect I would like to ask you a few questions. First of all, I am a fan of the new name, but what inspired you to refer to yourselves as ‘Leviathan’?”

Lo-Taren: “The Leviathan is the great beast of the sea, it strikes fear into the hearts of man. It is something we gain inspiration from.”

BJW: “I have heard rumors of such beasts, it seems you have a name worth living up to now. So tell me, you want to make an example of Vornair, what does that mean exactly?”

LT: “We do not take threats lightly, especially from those who claim to be ‘neutral’. With his slanderous claims, he has forfeited his neutrality and thus the King [Evelake] cannot hide behind his lies. We will be responding with full force.”

BJW: “What exactly did he say to strike such a fire among your ranks? Have you spoken to the King at all since the accusations?”

LT: “Truth be told, the king has never even had the decency to talk with me. Ever. He made assumptions about us based off of hearsay. That says a lot about the character of this King. Evelake openly spoke about actively hunting down and murdering my guild, I see that as a declaration of war.”

BJW: “I am sorry to hear that. Finally, I should ask about the repercussions for those citizens in Vornair. What can the citizens expect with this declaration of war?”

LT: “War.”


BJW: “Is anyone safe?”

LT: “Was anyone safe in Vornair, to begin with?”

BJW: “A good question, one I am sure King Evelake will have a response for. Thank you again for letting your side be known Lo-Taren.”

With that, Lo-Taren nodded with a sly smirk on his face and disappeared into the shadows. I quickly found the hood over my head as I was escorted out of the room and back to another cart.

Another bumpy ride back into the city, I found myself back at my front door. The flower and dagger were gone, almost like they were never there. I was nervous for the sake of Vornair, as one thing these men did well was carry out their orders. Seems like the citizens of Vornair should be ready for what a war with an enemy who excels at hiding in the shadows.

Until Next Time,

Be Bold, Be Known.
Bradford J. Wilshire