What can I tell you about the earliest days of the Republic...

It is true, as The Book says, that we recognized in Charon and his Ferrymen the very quintessence of The Great Lie. But by the time we became fully aware of it, it was already too late to deal with it in a forthright manner. He'd already gone to the Labyrinth and found Lord Nhudri, traveled to the Far Shores and been given his precious Seven Signs, begun to build the great city of Stygia upon the Isle of Sorrows... all that pompous, ignoble rot.

But we went to the Isle of Sorrows, at any rate. And we did so openly, I should add. We laid down our case to the Wraiths who were already milling about, there, waiting for their chance to be escorted to the Far Shore of their choice, and tried to explain to them that they were all being set upon a fool's errand.

What a sorry lot they were! They were completely bewildered and amazed, having been sold a pack of lies in their lives, and now being quite uncertain of what strange fate their false Gods had set upon them. And yet they accepted another, equally ludicrous pack of lies from Charon and his Boatman's Society the moment they were taken from their Cauls and escorted to Stygia!

We did our best to convince them of the truth of the matter, but they would not listen willingly. They had lost too much and were clinging to this one, small shred of hope with both hands... if they still had them, considering the damned tithe.

It was not too long before our activities gained the notice of the Ferrymen, and, through them, Charon himself. What happened next has guided a great deal of our Cabal's activities from here on out. Yes... a great deal, indeed...

Oh... what happened? Well, I would that would be obvious, my dear. We were thrashed quite soundly and made to retreat.

I'm quite sorry to say that we underestimated the man. We thought him a mere puppet of some antiquated witch... one for whom dying and being denied the paradise promised her was not enough to turn her hand or make her see reason.

But this was a man who had done amazing things in his time. He had poled through and explored the byways of the Sunless Sea, entered the Labyrinth and walked out - instead of fleeing - and had made many other, impressive achievements. He was not just some puppet with undeserved authority... at least, not by that time.

So, after he grew enraged at having his death's mission questioned at length by the leader of our emissaries, he commanded us to be silent. He said that we should go on our way, with our truth, and leave his charges to go find theirs on their own. I'm sure he said something like that... something terribly relative and lacking in ultimate truth.

And when we refused, he nodded and said "so be it." And then he furrowed his brow behind his mask... or so I imagine him doing... and used Siklos to do something rather thunderous and spectacular to our leader.

I can remember nothing of what he actually did - only the utter fear and amazement that the effect engendered within us. And so, one by one, we turned and ran from his sight. We quit the Isle of Sorrows, then... never to return...

At least, not openly. The next time we went back we did not announce our presence, nor seek a direct confrontation. We met in secret, and worked our craft amongst the populace, focusing on those ones who had decided not to try their luck with the Far Shores, but to instead remain on the Isle of Sorrows and seek their fates and fortunes there.

And so we flourished, right under the nose on Charon's mask.