Oisin, It feels as if it has been an era since we last spoke. I know you're ensorcelled with those new deliciously painful alchemical recipes from our krait "allies," but pry your eyes away from your vials and venoms for a moment; I have some tantalizing gossip from the court I picked up from a recruit. The grand duchess is furious that many of the court have sauntered off to greener pastures. I heard she even shrieked a little! Can you imagine? Little miss "dearheart" this and "dearheart" that. She must be wilting. Her champions are dead. Her promising acolytes? Put to the sword. Were I a gambling sort, I would suspect Duchess Chrysanthea is waiting in the willows with her more "liberal" faction. A bunch of apologists, I say. So concerned that Tyria will tire of our darker exploration, hunt us down, and burn us away as a fire does the undergrowth. Though, maybe there is a seed of truth in her concern; perhaps this Pact will bring a new era of order to Tyria. Maybe it is that very reason we flock to Scarlet. For what else can tip the balance away from order than a little chaos? I'm rambling now, love, but can you blame me? Just a lone knight with nary a soul to talk to besides these lake vipers. Come see me soon. I long for your company. —Ghislain