Greetings Sapience,

It has been far to long since I last wrote to you. How I have missed you
all, well most of you. I wish that the circumstances for which I come
before you today were on a much lighter note. But where Chaos is
concerned, the notes are only as light as the ones who play them.

I am saddened to say, that due to recent events, my father, Flair, has
lost his mind. Though I can't say we didn't see this coming. It's the
sand you know, plays tricks with your mind. Eventually one cracks, no
matter what the circumstances are. It happened to the Eight, and now my
father follows in their footsteps. As such, he has retired to the
desert, to be with the sand he loves so much. I can only hope that he
will find peace within the Chaotic nature of the ever-changing desert.

On a lighter note, and the true reason for all this, is the passing of a
torch. Before my father left us, he named me his successor. I am the
Prophet of Babel. Basically, this means that I've been made to follow in
his footsteps. I'll now be spending all my time sitting in the desert,
cutting myself or eating fish head stew. I'm not really looking forwards
to the last one, but I do what I must.

If you can not sense it, the winds of Chaos are blowing, causing change
right before our very eyes. Within the darkness that surrounds us, the
forces of Entropy and Discord strengthen. The Light grows dim, which we
should all rejoice. For now, you all have the opportunity to see Chaos
for what it is, without being blinded by misconceptions of its atrocious
and vile nature. Every day, Chaos surrounds you influencing all you do.
But why am I going into this? A sermon is for another day.

As I'm sure you've all grown bored of this, I shall keep this last bit
brief. If you wish to jump on the bandwagon and join the Revolution,
feel free to contact me. However, let it be known that if you are part
of an organization that wished to destroy, though this is a fruitless
task, Chaos in any of its forms don't speak to me. For you are a mere
babe in the world, one who is not yet ready to open your eyes.

All Hail Entropy! All Hail Discord! All Hail Chaos! All Hail Lord Babel!

Walk in the True Glory of Chaos Sapience,
Montago Vas'amaen-Ze'Dekiah
Prophet of Babel

Penned by my hand on the 3rd of Lupar, in the year 427 AF.