[CelestialGoblyn]

Robed figures walked trough the sun-scorched plains, hoods pulled over their heads. Agarthan mystics were not just hiding from the light of the day. One of them was limping visibly and another could not walk without the aid of his staff.
"The lizards hiss about peace, Mynal."
One turned to the other.
"But after the first contact of our woodsmen with their scouts, the plagues began."

The mystic chased away a fly that tried to get under his cowl. The flies were drawn to the smell...
Of disease!

From Kajolm of Agartha to Lulal'kurdu of C'tis:
You speak of peace, yet every day we and all lands feel mark of the disease you carry in yourself. You are best to keep away from the borders, maintain a healthy distance.
We Agarthans are very slow to anger, we lived for tens of thousands years and will not provoke war without a good reason.
But if more chants will be offered to gods of noxious swamps, our sages predict nature itself will punish you much better than Agartha ever could.
You will reap what you sow, as many others that we saw trough the millenia.