From the royal archives of His Grace, Nicklas Flanery, first of his name, Flamebound Sovereign of the Embercrown, Lord of the Thirteen Pyreholds, Lord Commander of the Molten Marches, Keeper of the Ironforge Oath, and Scion of the Unquenched Flame, is preserved the following correspondence:

By the Embercrown and the Unquenched Flame

To Admiral Kane, Emberfang Fleetmaster

From the hand and seal of

Nicklas Flanery, Flamebound Sovereign of the Embercrown, Lord of the Thirteen Pyreholds, Lord Commander of the Molten Reaches, Keeper of the Ironforge Oath, and Scion of the Unquenched Flame, does hereby issue this decree, sealed in fire and bound by the authority of the Emberthrone:

Kane,

Ironwake bleeds in silence.

The merchants are stalled. The fishing lanes are choked. My people cry out beneath empty granaries and barred roads. They sit cold, hungry, and waiting on a tide that never comes. I have seen the hunger in their eyes and felt the stillness in their forges. And that I cannot allow.

The Ironwake Bay lies in hostile hands, and I will not suffer it another day.

You are hereby commanded to assemble the Emberfang Fleet and sail with all haste to the eastern coast. The harbor at Ironwake is to be secured by flame and steel within seven nights. No vessel is to pass, no banner but ours to fly. Burn through whatever filth has taken the coast. Retake the waterway, secure the harbors, and ensure that our trade flows freely once more. The people must eat. My people must live.

The waterway is to be cleared—thoroughly, permanently, and without apology. My council has cautioned me and counseled patience in this matter with the coming storm, but my people can wait no longer. I do not desire reports. Do not write to me of waves. Do not bother yourself to measure the wind or weigh the tide.

Bring the boats in.

I expect nothing less than the complete fulfillment of my decree. I have seen your capabilities when the fire courses through your veins and your boots hit the deck. I trust no one more than you to see this done. You’ve weathered far worse, my friend. And you’ve emerged from the fire time and time again, harder and stronger.

The trade routes must be made safe for our fleets, our merchants, and our people. The coast must belong to the Crown again—secured, patrolled, and held without fracture.

Bring the boats in.

No excuses. No delays. No retreat.

Strike as fire strikes: without hesitation and without discrimination. Burn without remorse. Let smoke rise where resistance once stood. Let them know the coast belongs to the Crown—and that you are its flame.

You act with my full authority.

But more than that, you carry my faith.

You are my blade on the water, Kane. Cut deep. Command with flame. End with steel.

In flame and dominion,

N.F.

Sealed beneath the signet of the Embercrown, in the 13th Year of the Scorched Reckoning

I was forged in the fire.