Such big words for one of your stature, it's quite the amusing piece I must admit. Complacency seems to be your argument, but also ekes into every word, thought, and musing of your own statements. It's a consistent attitude I've come across with many of your peers, the intention to take even the smallest merit and use it as a cudgel to drive any with a contrarian outlook into the mud. An utmost dismissal of the potential they bring.

A wheel turns with each spoke pushing the other behind it, revolving to create progress, but all I see in those words is a series of sundered spokes left stationary. The voice of an old mind, one who saw her home as it was before and as it is now. It's something most would look at, a chance to see where they have gone and yet all things root back to your apocryphal obsession with your benefactors.

Consider these the musings of a heretic, one without any stake in it all and yet eager to see what unfolds. Linger as the spawns in their game of Chess and let the fist of Iron and Gold guide you for now. But all wheels have to turn, and every turn a revolution.

Penned by my hand on the 17th of Lupar, in the year 825 AF.