Raising is a second job that arrives in fragments: an allocation that never hardened, an investor who went quiet, a letter somebody owes a founder. Two seats hold the thread so none of it is dropped.
Interest that was promised and never hardened, allocations that have stalled, and LPs who have gone quiet since the last close are the three ways a round slips without anybody noticing on a given day.
The Syndicator tracks all three on real dates, so the conversation you need to have this week is the one it puts in front of you.
A deal owes people letters: the founder you passed on, the investor who asked for an update, the introduction you promised at a conference. The Correspondent drafts them.
Nothing leaves without you. That is not a setting, it is how the product is built: the seats produce work and a partner presses send. A system that emails your LPs on its own is a different risk profile than any fund should accept.
Capital work is not hard, it is relentless. Somebody has to remember that an investor asked for an update six weeks ago, that an allocation was verbally agreed and never papered, and that a founder was promised an introduction at a conference in March.
None of that is urgent on any given day, which is precisely why it slips. A fund does not lose an LP in a meeting; it loses one over a year of not being in touch.
Every letter these seats produce arrives as a draft on your desk. You read it, change it, and send it, or you do not send it.
That is a deliberate limit rather than a missing feature. The relationships a fund has with its investors and its founders are the fund, and a system that writes to them on its own initiative is spending an asset it does not own.
It is also what makes the work usable at all: a partner can put their name to a letter they read, and cannot put their name to one that went out overnight.
Capital and LP work: the Syndicator and the Correspondent. A firm of 20: you and nineteen AI employees. See the whole firm and join the waitlist.