To the folk of Old Sheepfold,
I command what is long overdue. Bring your youngest daughter before my gates ere the waning of this moon. Fail to do so, and I shall come to your homestead and take her myself.
Question not what I require this girl for. Such is the law of this land, as it hath stood for many generations.
Deny me, and your whole kin shall feel the full weight of your disobedience.
By my hand,
Xanthe
Lady of the Howling Keep