To the blind and shackled horizons; East and West,

Though the dogs of Order have this day had their bones, may those
morsels lie tastelessly upon your tongues. The Lord of Oblivion has
turned His black eyes once more toward this world, and the imperatives
to which you cling shall crumble into dust at the will of His
machinations. The Void is imminent.

Bear in mind, Shallam and Mhaldor, that your ideologies differ only in
their trappings. Be they bejewelled or bloodsoaked, your feculent dogmas
remain nothing more than excrement. You may take up your dungforks--your
swords or your pens--and spread the manure of myopic faith, but be
warned that your efforts are futile. No hand will forestall Chaos. You
squander your lives in vain.

As for you, blackhearted Katia--my dear old friend:

Theological considerations are best left to the high-minded. Considering
that your thoughts have, for centuries, been relegated far "below the
belt", it may be in your best interest to bow out of this conversation.

Those whose eyes are not clouded with the rheum of fear and arrogance
would do well to seek out our Prophet. The glory of Chaos is fast
approaching.


In service to the God of Oblivion, and on behalf of His Prophet, Flair
Ze'Dekiah,

Amunet Viatrix
Priestess of the Cult of Babel
Demiurge of the Great House of the Occultists

Penned by my hand on the 14th of Lupar, in the year 573 AF.