As requested, here are the copies of the confessions left behind by Reduskan and Ghail.
~V. S.
Let it be known that this Cult of Cyric has been secretly responsible for virtually every momentous action within Lower Sanctuary for the past two years.
Rebellions, chaos, invasions, murders, and upheaval.
We have controlled Councilors, newspapers, merchants, businesses, and much, much more.
Let it be known that Lower is Cyric's domain, and shall always be Cyric's domain.
Praise Cyric.
Best Regards!
My name is Rhalix Ghail, and I am a tailor.
If this book has been found, it likely means I am dead.
Let it be known that for all my actions were motivated by a desire for art, beauty, and passing the time in this boring hole.
It began with an earnest desire for finer materials to work with, here in Sanctuary. Good, quality leathers were simply not to be found. So I improvised. Certain members of the Tigereyes were happy to sell their executed enemies to me, and I was able to make very high-quality goods out of their skins. Later on, when their enemies disappeared, certain members of the Tigereyes agreed to continue to provide me with the goods I needed, and killed and skinned many a homeless man or innocent. They were careless about letting skinned corpses be found, but no serious trouble ever seemed to come of it.
When the Tigereyes disappeared, and chaos ruled Lower, it was easy enough to find all the materials I needed simply lying in the street. A few times my agents were caught, but no one ever seemed to put things together, and I carried on, happily stitching and sewing and selling my human-leather goods to the wealthy.
Eventually things began to dry up, and my dear Cyricist friends decided it was time for the Red Skull joke to become more public. It'd been a project dreamed up after a late night of drinking by Alonzo, Victor, and Reduskan, but I began to have interest when I realized the potential for plenty of bodies and skins.
It was all a great lark indeed. So terribly amusing to confuse the simple-minded into killing themselves and their loved ones in the name of Cyric! And all the while, we were left in peace. Of course, towards the end it started to get very boring indeed...
But our last show, if it happens, will be terrific.
I will miss expertly skinning the skin off of poor, starved beggar children and fashioning lovely cloaks to sell to wealthy adventurers... but all good things must come to an end, I suppose.
Praise Cyric.
RHALIX GHAIL