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Cordal's Paradise


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Cordal Winter von Herendul (Naumarian: Cordal Vinter) was a Hansetian-born monk, theologian, and pontiff who served on the Holy Throne twice (once as Thomas I between 13-24ES/1460-1471AH and a second time as Daniel II between 71-78ES/1518-1525AH). He was a renowned writer of the time, during a period of chaotic dynasty shifting between the Horens, Chivays, and Carrions, and typically took no part in politics. However, because of his high birth and relation to other prominent lords of the time, he was used as a symbolic High Priest after the abolishment of the pontifical throne by Peter I, and later, despite his old age, elected as Daniel II after the assassination of Sixtus III in 1518 in the wake of the Dukes’ War. Throughout it all, he wrote countless thesises and topics on faith and politics, including his most famous work, ‘Cordal’s Paradise’, which dictates his metaphysical journey through the Seven Skies.

 

(OOC: Full credit to @Watyll who made these, posting this here because people should read it. Link to his original below:

 

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CORDAL’S PARADISE

 

WRITTEN BY THE HAND OF

CORDAL WINTER VON HERENDUL

AKA

HIGH PRIEST THOMAS I | HIGH PONTIFF DANIEL II

 

PUBLISHED BY

HIEROMAR LUDOVAR THE ELDER, SSE

 

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Cordal Winter was in a coma for many days. When he awoke, he had an amazing story to tell. You see, while his body remained in the mortal plane, his soul wandered the heavens. This is the story of his journey, written with the grace of God. 

 

CORDAL’S PARADISE

 

I felt myself ascending suddenly. I no longer felt the blow to my head. I no longer felt anything at all. I looked down and saw my quivering, mortal form upon the floor of the basement, pooled with crimson. Strangely I felt no unhappiness or discomfort. No- rather I felt a feeling of elation and happiness. I floated further and further upward, into the sky. Past the sky, as the churches and apartments and shining palaces of Kaldonia disappeared underneath me. The light slowly faded from my vision, and it was as if I was a child, floating within a vast womb. Darkness was everywhere. All of a sudden a white, pure light winked into existence, calling me. I floated towards it, drawn to its irresistible clarion call. As I was about to enter, Two pairs of hands grabbed me, stopping me from entering. I fought against the hands, but they gentled me, and I turned to see two aenguls. They had one pair of wings each, so they were minor, not yet having earned more pairs of wings. One was blond of the purest honey, the other’s hair like polished silver. It was the only difference between the two. The blonde spoke first.

 

  “Halt your struggle, Cordal Winter. It is not your time yet. You have is a different purpose.”   Of course, I was greatly confused. The silver haired one then spoke in an equally melodious voice.

  “Our Creator has set to you a task- you must gaze upon the glories of the Seven Skies, and bring His message to the mortals He so cares for.”   My mind whirled.

 

  “Why has He chosen me, a lowly priest, for this great task? Why could not the good Bishop Henry, or his eminence have been chosen?”   The aenguls boomed in anger.

 

  “It is not yours to question your Creator! Do as His Blessed command states!”   If I were not stricken with panic, I surely would have whimpered. The golden haired aengul spoke.

 

“Ah mortal… You are so young, and uncomprehending. I am Beatus, and this is the esteemed Armis. We will guide you through the Seven Skies, and return you to your mortal vessel when finished.”
 

I could only nod as they bore me through the holy, sweet light. I felt euphoria as I went in, but this changed as I looked upon the First Sky. Aloft they held me by each arm as I looked across the blasted, twisted landscape. Everywhere there were souls in torment. No torment in our mortal realm can compare to some of the things I have seen in the First Sky. I howled in terror.

 

  “Why have you brought me to this place!”   I shrieked. “Art thou aenguls unholy demons, taking me to the Nether!” The aenguls, perturbed, shook their heads.

 

  “This is the First Sky. All souls go to this place, for a certain amount of time. Their sins are washed clean in torment and pain. Only the pure can ascend onward.”   I passed a long line of what looked to be men of the Raev. They were being repeatedly dipped in boiling lead. I shuddered and inquired Armis about them. The silver haired aengul happily answered my question.

 

  “These are the traitors to the High Pontiff, who fought the Lucienists. They will be here longer than most… But not forever. Though they committed unholy treason, all of them were good and loyal men to their liege lord. Soon they will ascend, likely to the Fourth Sky.”   I nodded, pleased that these men would not be in torment forever. The Aenguls took me higher and higher, until the landscape of the First Sky dwindled to nothing. We were in a sea of white light, it grew brighter and brighter until suddenly the aenguls shot upwards into the Second Sky.
 

The Second Sky was far different from the first. It was a land of rolling green plains, but no trees. It was also slightly gloomy, not well lit, as if from a rainy sky. There weren’t many people around. It was far less populous than the First Sky.

 

“What is the nature of this Sky, O Beatus and Armis?” I asked. They set me down on the ground, which was as firm as that of the mortal world. I began to stride about as they alighted, walking behind me.

 

  “This is the plane for virtuous heathens,”   said Beatus, “Those who did not follow the True Faith, but still did courageous feats.” I began to walk, heading first for a muscular looking dwarf. He had a tough, mean look about him.

 

  “Hello.”   I said, interested. The dwarf grunted. “What is your name?” I asked.

 

  “Urir Ireheart.”   he said. “This wasn’t what oi feckin expected when oi died. Where tae feck is Dungrimm’s halls?” I was taken aback. Urir Ireheart, the dwarf who plunged the Axe of Krug into the Nether and so saved Aegis. He refused to speak to me any further, so I moved on. There I saw a tall, proud, southern looking man. He was surrounded by a few others that looked like him, and was clothed in leather, with some gold jewelry. He smiled at me as I approached.

 

  “A visitawr! Welcawm to thar Secawnd Sky!”   he said. It was quite a different reaction from before.

 

  “What is your name?”   I asked. The man smiled.

 

“Khagan Sauros, awf thar Subudai. How fare my people?” I frowned slightly. Sauros? The Khagan that tormented Oren in its early days? Still, he seemed amiable, so I told him.

 

  “The House Nicator has the blood of the Subudai in them, but your people are scattered or dead.”   Sauros sighed.

 

  “Sertorious told me as much, I had hoped they were refawrged.”   he gestured to another man who looked much like him. I sighed and looked to the aenguls. They once again gently grabbed me by each arm, and their great wings flexed upwards. The grassy plains of the Second Sky shrank beneath us as we went upwards into the Third Sky.
 

When we suddenly appeared, I was rather intrigued to see a sprawling city, with a cloudy blue sky overhead.

 

  “What is this city?”   I asked. It was Armis who responded.

 

“This is the eternal city of Vetus, in the Third Sky.” In the streets of the city I saw many mortal activities. People wandered through the streets, talking and laughing. It looked a bit like Kaldonia, and Arethor. Very… normal. I inquired as to why it seemed so earthly.

 

  “Vetus is a city for those who did nothing impious nor pious, good nor bad, in their lives. They were content with just living, and this is their reward.”   said Beatus. We moved on quickly from this plane. There was certainly nobody of note here, and it was not very interesting.
 

When we ascended into the Fourth Sky, I was completely overwhelmed by what I saw. This was the Seven Skies of prophecy. I had never before seen something like it. The entire place was a vast rolling grassland, not unlike the Second Sky. However, the earth was rich and smelled of fine new soil. Trees sprouted majestically every so often. Tables sprawled over the landscape, lit with many candles, for the entire place was bathed in the glow of the evening. Food, a grand feast, was laid out over all the tables, and peasant looking fellows feasted, drank, and laughed. As they ate and drank, the food and beverages reappeared. On a throne sat a man, surrounded by pigeons. They chattered when they saw us approaching. Next to him sat a man covered in coal dust.

 

  “What is this place?”   I asked the aenguls.

 

“This is the Fourth Sky, home of those who were loyal to their masters, and those who worked hard to accomplish many great things. The Fourth Sky is inhabited by the hardworking peasants of Raevir blood, Auvergnian blood, even a few Easterners can be found here.”

 

“Why is it the evening here?”

 

  “Because,”   said Armis, “The evening is when the peasant man truly shows himself. It is when he is happiest. The working day is over and he casts off his cloak and boots and makes merry with friends and family.”

 

  “And the man on the throne?”   I inquired.

 

  “That is Saint Theodosius. He was offered a place in the Sixth Sky, but turned it down to join his people here. Next to him is Saint Wilfriche.”   I was delighted to learn this, and spent many an hour drinking and making merry with the many peasants. I know a bit of Raev, and have a complete knowledge of Auvergnian, and was able to have a grand time. At one point in my feasting, I was pulled aside by Saint Theodosius. I immediately bowed before him in piety, as was my duty. His son, Vladislavistan, beamed at me. I was surprised to see him.

 

  “Good Vladislav, why are you not in the First Sky with the rest of your brothers?”   I asked. Vladislav chuckled.

 

  “Because our time is of up!”   I watched in amazement as the Raev men suddenly ascended into the Fourth Sky, popping up from holes in the ground. They seemed untouched by the horrible treatment they had received in the First Sky, joking and laughing with their friends in good humor. I was truly amazed by the Creator’s infinite mercy. The two aenguls laughed, a tinkling, joyous sound that I will remember forever. I feasted a while longer in the Fourth Sky, speaking with its hardworking inhabitants, before I turned to the aenguls and told them I was ready to depart. They gave a nod and grabbed me once more, taking me up into the Fifth Sky.
 

The Fifth Sky was more of what I had expected of the Seven Skies. It was an endless ivory palace, with majestic red carpets and flowing tapestries telling the deeds of its inhabitants. The greatest heroes who had ever followed the True Faith gathered in the great hall and chatted with each other, reminiscing about times long past. I saw the High Pontiffs. Lucienists mingled with Oren guard. Most prevalent was the banner of the White Rose. So many men had fought and died under that banner as to make almost any man who was once a member of that hallowed brotherhood worthy of the Fifth Sky. I first sought out the company of one who was wearing the High Pontiff’s miter. I introduced myself as Father Cordal Winter, and he laughed.

 

  “So, one of the Winters is a priest? Never thought I’d see the day. I am High Pontiff Lucien. The first one, used to be called Velwyn Ashford. Har! I’m glad to see my brothers here with me.”   at this the hallowed man gestured to the many White Roses strewn about the room. “I’ve been watching the church from here, my son.”

 

  “You can see all that?”   I asked in surprise. Lucien laughed.

 

“Indeed! We on the Fifth Sky can watch the mortal realm, unlike those in the Fourth Sky and below. It’s a part of our reward.” I knelt and kissed the Pontiff’s ring in submission and farewell, and he bid me to continue. On my way traversing the court I accidentally bumped into a particular white rose member.

 

  “Yeesh! Watch where yer goin!”   he said. I nodded, making an apology. He looked me over, then bowed. “Sorry, fathah. Didn’t know you were a man of the cloth.”The White Rose member himself was a rather scarred individual with a large… mohawk, I believe the word was.  He stuck out his callused hand. “I’m Arthal Lowedge. Good to meet you Fathah…”

 

  “Cordal Winter, Father Cordal Winter, good Ser.”   Arthal chuckled, then I went on my way. The aenguls awaited me. I felt a knot of apprehension in my stomach as we flew away from the ivory palace of the Fifth Sky. We were heading to the Sixth Sky. What would lie in the Seventh? I was almost done with my journey.
 

We shot into the Sixth Sky, and I was immediately enveloped in a feeling of euphoria. Golden light shone everywhere. A choir of aenguls and daemons sang, lifting their voices. Armis and Beatus joined in, and my head felt as if it were to split from happiness. Flowing rivers of milk and fine wine poured in an unending torrent. Gemstones and rich pearls dotted the riverbanks. Ripe fruit hang from magnificent trees. We touched down on a cloud. It was solid, but soft, like the wool of a sheep. I could jump very high here, and I bounced from cloud to cloud as a child would bounce from one bed to another. A large cloud held a good number of folk, so I went there. They seemed ready to greet me. At the front stood an elderly man with a majestic crown, and white flowing beard and hair.

 

  “Welcome to the Sixth Sky, Cordal Winter.”   he said gravely. My knees immediately bent. I was unable to think as I was confronted with Saint Godfrey, the First Emperor, the Uniter of Mankind. He smiled slightly at me as another being strode forward, a white glowing stag. It’s presence made me feel as comforted and healed as Saint Godfrey’s. I assumed this to be Tahariae. The stag bent its head to me in greeting, but did not speak. Another man joined Godfrey at his right hand. He also wore the crown of the emperor.

 

  “Ej, Winter.”   he said. “Never of expected to see Herendulman here.” My humility grew by the second in the presence of Saint Siegmund. Another man stepped forward, at Godfrey’s left. He wore the White Rose tabard proudly.

 

  “Be nice to our guest, Siegmund,”   said Saint Thomas Chivay, “We don’t get many guests here. Get on up, Winter.” I could only nod dumbly as I stood. Saint Thomas laughed. “You look like a man who just **** himself.” I closed my mouth as my cheeks turned red. Saint Godfrey gave a slight shake of the head to Thomas.

 

  “Cordal Winter. Are you prepared to meet your Creator?”   I shuddered in fear involuntarily.

 

  “So… that is what is on the Seventh Sky?”   I asked. Saint Godfrey nodded. I shook with nervousness, but clenched my fists and returned his nod. He smiled.

 

  “The aenguls will be unable to accompany you there. It is only for you, and the Creator.”   The Saints and Aenguls all backed away as I felt myself being lifted up into the air, their faces fast dwindling. The chorus of aenguls reached a crescendo, and suddenly there was silence.

 

The Seventh Sky. White. Enveloping, soothing white. I could not see any part of me. Did I even exist? Who could have stood before the crushing, yet merciful embrace I felt all around me? The love of the Creator cushioned me from all my memories, all the harshness of life. I could see nothing, I could sense nothing but that love. Visions suddenly appeared before me. I saw Beatus and Armis in the Sixth Sky, gaining a second pair of wings as their reward. Beatus would now have the status of the Aengul of Writers, and Armis the Aengul of Swordsmen and Knights. I saw the Fifth Sky, where heroes continued to feast and chat. The Fourth Sky, boisterous and loud. The Third Sky, with those individuals who just floated through life. The Second Sky, with the virtuous heathens, who possessed such bravery without any True Faith, and the horrors of the First Sky. I saw the life of a man named Cordal Winter, who had grown up in Herendul. I saw Kaldonia, and the entire world of Aegis. I saw the sun and the stars in all their glory. All these things I saw. Then the whiteness began to fade to grey, then black, as a voice as vast as the ocean, but as quiet as the dropping of a pin spoke.

 

HOME

 

I awoke.

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