Letter Fifty-Seven

Smok,

         It has come to my attention that my brother Gargazath has been restored to his former self, Trubodox, “The Scarlet” as they nicknamed him in our junior high days. I was very shocked and surprised, as you might imagine, to hear that my brother had found his sanity once more, and I fainted dead away when he gave me a personal visit and announced his restoration. It seems his former psyche has come back, and Gargazath has been destroyed once and for all.

         I am currently in the hospital. I shall be released tomorrow, but in any case I decided to write of most urgent matters.

         There are rumors, Smok, grave rumors. Surely you must know of the tension between dragons of different regions, and so I must explain that there are whispers of a war that is about to start, that will completely change the world. Northern, western, eastern, and even those loons from the south are gearing up for battle. It will be a great dragon war of epic proportions, the like of which the world has never seen before, and the winning side will dictate the fate of draconian and human civilization hereafter.

         The Compass War may be about to begin. I urge you, Smok, to use reason in choosing your side, if this does come about. I will most likely be general of the western forces, considering that my reputation and wits are of highest repute. I know I may have seemed like a pompous fool, boasting of my intellect, but some (if indeed not all) of my ranting has a grain of truth in it. I am renowned for my skill in strategy and my prowess in battle, and although the days of the greats are at an end, I am the next-best thing that the west can muster.

         The northerners are savage, but the western dragons are by far the most numerous of all dragons; our region is brimming with dragons and we can overwhelm the north easily, although I do not know. Trubodox seems to be leaning toward the northern side, or so I am informed, and although his military strategy and cunning may be lacking, his strength and brutal simplicity in his schemes may make him a worthy opponent, should the north choose him as their leader. But anyhow, I do not think I shall need to worry too much about that front.

         The south is a bunch of hippies, drunks, and loons, and their army will fall apart as soon as it gets to the battlefield, if not before. We westerners need not worry about them.

         It is the power in the east that I am worried about. Their cursed elemental pearls could prove a handful, should they find it morally acceptable to use them. Semithino certainly found it morally acceptable to use his against me, the cowardly cur! My stratagem in defeating them shall most likely be subterfuge, guerrilla warfare, and all that; but it will be dangerous, very dangerous.

         I do hope you side with me, if the war should come about. I hope your recent affiliations and correspondence with Semithino haven’t addled you too much, but I fear you are past saving now. If you side with the east and we meet upon the battlefield, I will not hesitate to kill you. I wish it could be otherwise, but alas. Your path is chosen, I fear; you will probably follow the eastern way of life.

         My way of living isn’t so bad, Smok; I wouldn’t have you slaughter very many humans. As I have reiterified time and again before now, the key to being known as a great isn’t so much to slaughter all in your path, but to appear more ferocious than you are while at the same time possessing a backbone. Your name would go down in history if you followed this principle, and it’s not too much work. It’s the show business, so to speak.

         -Your serpentine uncle,

                  Scaligar

P.S. The service in this hospital is awful.