The followers of Morale are an insipid cancer upon the world. They threaten citizens with ousting for defiling shrines while doing the same themselves.

They drape themselves in the language of virtue and benevolence, forever proclaiming their concern, yet behind every honeyed word lies the same parasitic impulse. To drain strength from those around them and call the weakness they leave behind a blessing. They are leeches masquerading as carers, shackles disguised as gifts.

Since Boube withdrew into slumber, their leadership has produced nothing of worth beyond false tales and hollow victories. For all my disagreements with Boube, at least he possessed the honesty to advance the principles of Morale openly. He did not hide behind a dozen masks, nor speak from both sides of his mouth in the same breath.

His successors possess neither his conviction nor his candour. They preach one thing, practice another, and expect the world to mistake hypocrisy for wisdom. Their creed has become little more than a refuge for the weak-willed and the duplicitous, who seek to undermine strength while claiming to nurture it.

I find the open opposition of Boube far more respectable than the smiling deceit that now passes for Morale. The followers of Corruption are at least honest in their intent. Morale followers are cowards and leeches.

They have not the strength to sustain their own faith, and so they come begging at the gates of Spinesreach to feed it for them.

The followers of Morale marched against the servants of Corruption and were soundly defeated. One would think such a humiliation might inspire reflection, discipline, or a renewed commitment to their cause. Instead, they have responded with the same pathetic cowardice and feeble leadership that led them to failure in the first place. Unable to secure victory through their own strength, they now seek to drag Spinesreach into their faux holy war, begging others to fight the battles they themselves proved incapable of winning.

They have not the strength to sustain their own faith, and so they come begging at the gates of Spinesreach to feed it for them.

What sort of creed cannot nourish itself?

What sort of leadership must rely upon its others to provide the conviction, conflict, and purpose it cannot muster on its own?

They speak endlessly of their virtues, yet without others to prop them up, their faith would starve and wither from simple neglect. Such is the state of Morale's leadership. Dependent, feeble, and incapable of standing upon their own merits.

If their faith possesses such certainty in its righteousness, then let its adherents bear the burden of defending it. Let them bleed for it. Let them triumph or perish by their own merits. To suffer defeat and run like vermin to seek stronger hands to carry one's banner is not conviction. It is weakness masquerading as piety, and desperation disguised as principle.

Let not the cowards of Morale push their Holy War on others.

-Sepyhie


Penned by my hand on Gosday, the 12th of Celes, in the year 19 AC.