Four letters addressed to certain guilds would find their way to the prominent and grandiose halls of their respective targets. Each bears a unique signature, but all share a single seal:
A hand bathed in red flame, wearing four black rings, and a fifth of which was of gold.
The following letter is addressed to the Queendom of Serheim, signed in deep red.
To those Of the Ancient Ways,
I write to you as both my protectorate and by my oath as Tongue, offering you counsel and warning:
There is virtue in the mission you profess; you stand against the power of outer foes, and rebuke men who claim themselves to be in the service of gods. However, while your deeds hold merit, you base yourself in things less so, for your works are rooted in tribalism and denominations, paying no heed to the folly of those Lords who instituted your vows:
The Lord of Flame sought to have Man rule this world and the Gods their own — but they did not foresee that the Gods would always return to meddle in the affairs of men.
The Lord of Darkness sought to end the Gods and their plight — yet they saw mortality as a weakness rather than the epitome, and toyed recklessly with the wanton powers of the Void.
The Lord of Oaks saw Man to be what he truly was — but they did not have the courage nor strength to fulfill their charge against the Gods, and thus fell into complacency.
And the Nameless Lord, despite his honor, wisdom, and pursuit of knowledge, sought to sustain perennial battle with the Gods, believing it to be a balance — even though it was the Gods alone who had first initiated the ancient war.
Each Lord swore to uphold their oath, and each of them failed. We were led astray by them, each man confident in the truth of his own path, but denying the truth retained by the others. Surely, you who are infatuated with the death of gods, can see that a man has yet to kill a god. But the capacity of men to lay waste to other men, their brethren, always remains, and I know well there are those who cherish nothing more than to see thy dominion crumble to dust. Therefore, I offer you the chance to revel in the knowledge of all things combined, rather than have your faith placed in merely a single part of a whole. I bid you, cast off the shackles of that bygone age and embrace what I declaim: faith in yet one who has not abandoned man for the sake of his own vainglory and empowerment.
And then there has been, kindled, the notion among your flock that it is only they who are fit to profess creeds against the gods. This is among the greatest of follies, for it is written that such a vow may be taken by all mortal men regardless of their affinity with deeper sorceries.
Some among you have held fast to the words I have spoken, and for that they are blessed. But still there are stubborn ones among you ranks who spoil the solemnity of your work, treating it as though it were a child’s errand; and and while I retain patience at the moment, do not think I shall hesitate when the time comes for me to root out those vile weeds with tongues of fire and black brimstone. But should we be united in this, Brothers and Sisters, we might stand more firmly against the coming of the Light, and bear witness to the Flame that is to emerge.
— Seventh Champion of the East-Meets-West
The following letter is addressed to the Paladins of Xan, signed in deep red.
To those Blinded by The Light,
You who stand against the darkness of alien forces and claim righteousness to their deeds, hear this:
Many of you hold fast to the belief that your works are done with a righteous mind, that the hordes of foreign demons and despots should have no foothold in the world of men. Yet you do so under the delusion of words woven by an intricate mouth of gilded lies, for while you assert the influence of fell gods should be removed, you seek to replace it with a seething light of the same covetous nature. This has led many good men, who in darkness covet the light, to be waylaid by seemingly noble allure, for they do not know the true ambitions of those they serve.
I have seen, firsthand, the way in which these things of ‘virtue’ look upon man. We are mere playthings to them, puppets whose strings they seek to pull for a moment, only to select a favorite few as their chosen toys. I have watched men and women, saintly and virtuous all of them, denied entry to salvation because they did not adhere to the creeds laid out by your ‘gods’. And yet those who enter paradise do so simply as slaves bound in eternal service to the warmongering whims of the one they foolishly serves while they were still living. Does it not raise the question that death may be a means to gain the spirits of men as tokens for the gods to barter and wage? Why else would we be afflicted with the throes of martyrdom and death, only to be ushered off to the very seats of the same ones who permitted its touch to remain upon our souls? And yet you make yourselves vessels for its power, whilst claiming to act on behalf of man — it is sickening.
Your deeds leave the work half-finished and worse-off, for in place of those banished powers you assert the might of yet another threat to mortal autonomy and prosperity. Darkness may have initiated the battle in the days of old, but the Light perpetuats it; for the darkness, man can look at, but it is the blinding light which drives his vision away, concealing what it truly is.
If you truly wish to expunge the foreign powers which hold sway over mortal men, then you must be willing to uphold that same vow even in your works and your deeds. Renounce your hollow servitude, however gilded it may be, and claim your seat among men so that together we might end the scourge upon us. Yet be prepared, zealots of Golden Sun; for soon I am to sweep across the land like the shadow of night, and when my work has come to fruition, there shall be no sunrise left to call upon.
— Vicar of the Flame in the Shadow
The following letter is addressed to the Order of Nevaehlen, signed in deep red.
To those who bore the Emerald Star,
To those who bind themselves to the whims of nature's call, listen well:
I gazed upon the vast swathes of once-malformed land to the East, vexed as to how such catastrophe was brought upon our land. I soon learned that those were once pristine shores, having been made alien and perverted only by the contemptible touch of the Void. This was the work of puerile magicians who toyed with the threads of oblivion for no other purpose than to indulge in their own twisted vainglory.
The negligence of these voidal ‘scholars’ shames mankind; and yet what should have served as a warning to Almaris was paid no consideration, for now I see the same motley sort still going about and practicing their craft in public places, facing no reprimand for their heinous misdeeds against nature and against man. Thus I commend your works and the sacrifices you have made: you who banished the scourge of that timeless nothing back to its rightful place beyond the Veil. Its revolting agency cannot be left to linger within the world, and in acting against it you have done a great service to mankind. But you too are not free from blame, for you prosecute war against one alien power at the behest of another.
Though you placed your faith in distant gods, to me your vow was once commendable. You once did great service to man in the tending of nature and her enigmatic ways, dispelling the perilous touch of the Void. But now I have come to view your lot in another light, having spoken with those of whom your grace has spurned. You have grown insolent and idle, refusing to let nature take its course lest you too be made out to be monsters by those who fail to understand. Some among you still merit my trust, yet they are few and far between; and the rest of you spend your days frolicking in fields, heedless to the other aspects of the world which you have neglected for fear of the reprimand of others. Not only this, but you tolerate the Warriors of Sunbreak and the blades of The Fell Axe, harboring the influence of their gods within your halls, and in doing so, allow the unnatural to further seep into our world.
I have spoken with the Tree Who Lies at The Heart of the World, and unto you he says this:
If you are unwilling to commit to the task which has been set before you, know that I am prepared to take it upon myself. So shall I separate the wheat from the chaff, and root out the weeds who call themselves caretakers of nature, but shrink away from the full responsibility of their call.
To implore powers not native to this realm, whilst claiming to cast them out, is the mark of a hypocrite, one deserving to be shunned and ridiculed. I therefore implore you to cast off the mantle of service you owe to them and partake of true communion with the natural world, lest you be declared anathema and forfeit your claim to salvation which you would otherwise be owed.
— He Who Has Spoken to The Oak at the Heart of the World
The final letter is addressed to the Progeny of Azdromoth, signed in deep red.
To the Men Who Dwell in the Tower of Flame
Those of you who lie in the bosom of Azdromoth, take heart to these words:
You are the most curious of all who I address. Your lineage is vast, and each among you seeks a different way to bring glory to your Father of Flame. But many of you are not only hypocrites, but fools who willingly submit to the destruction of your mortal bodies, and make them into that which they are not. You call it ascension, but then hide that form away from the world, lingering among man whilst you are not one like a wolf among sheep. You prey upon superstition and revel in chaos, turning fearful and worrying men into your thralls for no purpose other than pure ‘worship’ of your fraudulent god. Have you no dignity, no appreciation for thy own well-being, so as to forfeit not merely your soul, but also your body, to a creature which harbors no allegiance to anyone but himself?
While some among you share in certain understandings of mine, such as to rise from embers and ash against the light of gold – which already, in this world, has begun to diminish in its gleam – others of you hold no reverence nor respect for their creeds, and for that crime I retain no respect. My heart holds in higher esteem a foolish enemy who is steadfast in their delusion, as opposed a beast who pretends to be a man yet whose allegiance wavers before forces would grant him power, such as those who dwelt in an academy under your Father's name.
Know that there is little repentance for those of you who have already besmirched their mortality; but even less so for those who have besmirched their character. For those among you who may still call yourselves descendants, yet bear the mark of the Beast, heed my warning and renounce your sacrilege before it is too late. When the time is ripe and the armies of the Fifth rise to fulfill their eternal charge, it is you, insurgents of The Serpent, who shall be the first to fall.
— He Who Holds the Key to Flame and Darkness