Twig,

The only peace you'll never know is peace of mind. You were quick enough to dart back into your rathole of a city to pen this missive rather than exemplify the words you so eagerly drool over parchment.

Might indeed.

You write that the outpost will remain an icon of the might of the Sanguine Fist? Such an icon of might that an individual, such as myself, can empty it of its mercenary guards and undead delinquents in order to free the slaves that are there. It is no wonder your domain rose up against you in rebellion and how your supposed 'might' lost you the Lich Gardens. True, you may find more slaves. More mercenaries even. But unlike your own flimsy commitment, ours is endless and unshakable. Our duty is unwavering and we will wear you down like the slow moving stream can erode a mountain, though it might take years, decades or even centuries. The Beacon is a shining light that brings hope to the subjugated and downtrodden.

So, by all means, continue to let your pen do the talking. The Beacon will continue to show the strength of its convictions via its actions. We will see which triumphs in the end.

In everlasting service,
Sir Benedicto Silverain
Harbinger of the Maelstrom

Penned by my hand on Tisday, the 23rd of Niuran, in the year 502 MA.