First year of the siege.
Lord Moon has saw fit to shut the castle gate. Hordes of nigger-bots gather beyond the walls, testing our defenses, waiting to flood the keep and overwhelm our defenses with faggotry and illicit imagery. Truly, this is a desolate and hope-forsaken land. Already, the effects of deprivation are felt all about the hold. The air is thick with disease and a dark miasma permeates the spirit of the Kiwis. As the onset of winter is felt, I've already seen a few weaker accounts get banned and consumed for what meager entertainment they could offer. Lord Moon's jannies assure us that everything is fine, that faith in Dear Feeder will protect us from evil. But I know just how deep the rot goes. They hunger as well. They eye the mob, licking their lips and searching for those who may be forgotten. I pray that Lord Moon finds an answer to this situation swiftly and that God delivers his righteous justice upon the pedo-niggers that menace us.
Honorably and faithfully yours, FOUND YOU!