Pentarch,

I am enthused to hear that the path to the Age of Dawn will be a bloody, war-wrought journey. I am further enthused to hear that you believe the undertaking will take centuries to reach, even as much as Apostles of the Lightsworn Fire claim that its reckoning is right at hand.

However, it appears that His sworn representatives, and thusly even the Hammer that receives His guidance, have all but seen their flames gutter. Already, the lustre of Calescent Fire's crusade against Hegemony's glorious peak has faded into minor footnotes of history. I imagine the city will soon follow after, keen edges dulling the longer they go unused. Blame not the crucible that was the Monomachy for gentling the intensity of your reach, I suppose, but your tenders for charring the contents and neglecting to stoke the embers.

I find myself in quite a position, again, to discern the limits of audacity that Enorian will endure until the city is once again incensed into action. The Progenitor is ever the opportunist, and who are we-- who am I to disappoint the Patron of my current existence if I fail to take advantage of such a circumstance?

Here, I've gone ahead and copied a great sign-off for this.

.
FROM THE CONFISCATED DESK OF THE GRAND CRUSADER, ---./ \.---
Viceroy Elene Arcan-Tetzauh '._/ \_.'
_.-'_'. .'_'-._
Reaver and Executor '-._.' '._.-'
of the Abyssal Court of Chaos .' \ / '.
---'\ /'---
'

Penned by my hand on Gosday, the 12th of Sapiarch, in the year 2 AC.