As the Archprelate who conducted that excommunication, I feel the need to correct your mistakes, Mephaos. It was not the Garden of Pentharian in which a Devotionist forced Silas, as an infernal, to begin the process of exterminating. It was the Garden of Melantha, Rho wasn't involved at all, and certainly neither Silas nor Rho were discharged from Shallam because of it.

For one so quick to take another to task so publically, I would hope you'd've made sure the facts were straight. I'm a bit ashamed of you, Mephaos-- perhaps not as ashamed as you yourself should be after your sermon on "Roads," but ashamed nonetheless.

Yes, Silas was once a Necromancer, as were others. Terra and I once faithfully served the Mad God as members of His Spear and His Crown alongside Sothantos, to whom I personally gave the Mark of the Twin before we endured sanctification by fire. Micaelis, Seftin, Antidas, Tvistor-- all were bound in service to the Twin Lords, as They were known then, before the Lightbringer scourged the shackles of Their supposed Strength from them forever. The bond we share runs deeper than I would expect you to understand, Mephaos, for only one who has risked life and reputation, who has forsaken all else in the world but the cause of Good, who has come East in search of the purification that They alone provide may speak of such things. It is there, though, I assure you, and even though you cannot feel it, you shall be saved through it.

But you speak of matters from old Shallam, the ruins beneath the waves. These things do not matter to us, certainly not any more. With such a broken foundation, I am, perhaps, a bit surprised that the earth and sea did not reclaim it sooner, and we act now with a unity of purpose that Shallam could never achieve. There are many who find the novelty of a force for Good so active within these lands unsettling, those for whom the flawed but well-meaning intentionality of the Jewel served satisfactorily as a balm upon their consciences, but the sacred Light and purifying Fire have never been for the faint of heart, and when that old City fell, when the forces of Bal'met banished it from these lands, so too did they banish the uncertain and timid shadows from the hearts of the Shallamese. So too did they issue a clarion call to all of Creation's true servants.

We are an odd assortment, we former Occultists and Necromancers and spewers of heresies, but no more motley than those who have turned aside from such ways in the past and even now walk the paths in your own village. Our redemption, however, comes to us by the grace of the Bloodsworn. Through Them, we have achieved the purification of body and spirit that so many who have turned from such foul paths have not. Through Them, we've found purpose anew together. Through Them, we have and will continue to build Targossas as a monument to Creation, the sort that Shallam could never be: a bulwark against the Bastion and the prison-isle the Westerners call home.

When you decide to join the fight, Sapience, when you reach out for a shield to protect your loved ones from the advancing ranks of Creation's enemies, know that the Gates of Targossas beckon you home.

Forever Theirs, I am,



Mathonwy Corso.

Penned by my hand on the 2nd of Lupar, in the year 644 AF.