The Trials of the Vasoyevi

[Burnsider 4542]

The Trials of the Vasoyevi

 

[!]A missive is sent out to all cities and towns where caravans of the Vasoyevi may be camped.

 

Moja prijatelj, moja braca si sestre, and moja ljubavi, zdravo! I come before you today as a humbled woman, one unexpected to face such trials in my time. But trials the Vasoyevi now face. Some behind us, and some ahead of us. Now, as once Matriarch of the now defunct Vasović Caravan, as Matriarch of the Grand Duchy of Vasiyeva, as the Sigismundaroșie of Faith and Fate, I see in these times four trials to test the spiritual mettle of the Vasoyevi people in Vasiyeva and abroad. From Saint Julia was birthed four sons of flesh and four sons of spirit. Now, here I am, a woman fifty-four generations of teaching removed from Saint Julia, to announce these four trials to you, so that you can be prepared for the ones to come. Take heart, for these trials set by GOD are to test our mettle. Alone, we could not face them. With HIM, we can face them all. I exhort you to pray with me thusly:

 

I know I am weak, LORD of all, so I will allow you to carry me through this valley.
I struggle to think clearly, so I depend upon YOUR living word to lift me.
I feel such darkness around, so I look to YOUR light.
I walk with a heavy heart, so I will give YOU each burden.
I wonder if my heart can take the strain, so I rest in YOUR love and peace.
I light a candle tonight to remind me of the warm glow of YOUR hope in dark places.
Amen.

 

The Acceptance of Veziak

 

 

Praise to GOD, for HE is accepting! For long we have traveled the road and been outcasts from the greater world. Even amongst the company of the Sons of Horen did we find ourselves strangers, and our practices stranger still. For centuries, we practiced our Canonist traditions and rituals by candlelight at night, afraid that those without eyes to see would come upon them and know fear instead of understanding. Our first trial was that of Acceptance. Like Horen, who was accepted by GOD in the Waters of Gamesh, so have our traditions been accepted and allowed by the Holy See in Providence. His Holiness, Tylos I, looked upon the Vasoyevi and saw a pious people, loyal to GOD. So our long and weary trial was completed and the Rite of the Revered Mothers was allowed to be openly practiced and enjoyed.

 

The False Prophet

 

 

Praise to GOD, for HE is just! For a false prophet came upon the Vasoyevi while in prayer and at Mass, extolling his false virtue and words, carried along by followers blind to his perversions. For the false prophet claimed himself Exalted among men without laurel, for the false prophet claimed himself the Son of Man and the Son of God, for the false prophet claimed himself authorship of a fifth Scroll, equal to the Four. Like Owyn, who performed swift justice among the unrepentant, so has Vasoyevi Justice been dealt to the false prophet, for the tongue-less can not speak blasphemy against the MOST HIGH. The false prophet and his followers are forbidden from crossing the borders of the Grand Duchy of Vasiyeva again on pain of death. As the Sigismundaroșie of Fate and Faith to all Vasoyevi, I beg the rest of the Caravans to not give respite nor comfort to these blasphemers, and to chase them away from all whom they wish to convert towards perversion.

 

The Return of the Psoglav

 

 

Praise be to GOD, for HE is strong! The Vasoyevi have felt and been comforted by this strength three hundred years ago, when we broke from our pagan beliefs and fought the Psoglav, dreaded beast of the Daemon Valaen, sent to hunt us and keep us on the move. Our strength alone was not enough to defeat the Psoglav, but with the strength of GOD on their side, our ancestors united against the creature and found the dreaded beast to be naught but a mewling cur. But, as we were recently reminded, our ancestors pledged their sons and daughters not to the worship of the Psoglav, but to the daemon itself. And now, the eyes of the daemon have fallen again upon the Vasoyevi, and the Psoglav has been returned to the earth to hunt us once more. A holy man of Haense did find the creature once again, returning to us with a warning of our doom. But like Godwin, who united the Sons of Horen, a call goes out now for the sons and daughters of the Vasoyevi to come together once more in fear and awe of the MOST HIGH, to do battle against the Psoglav. For against the foul creature, all are called to be kȁjatac. Let prayers be sent to GOD, intercession asked of the Exalted Sigismund, for the strength again to slay the creature.

 

The Call to Arms

 

 

Praise be to GOD, for HE is omniscient! Our fourth trial is one of such importance, it was handed down to the Vasoyevi by an Aengul of the MOST HIGH. For the Aengul of Salvation manifested among not one but many of the Vasoyevi to deliver a message of importance to the world and task the Vasoyevi to carry out the will of GOD.  For the Vasoyevi were declared worthy inheritors of GOD's truth, and pass now this message to the rest of the Vasoyevi and beyond. For the Aengul delivers us this message, that the wicked spawn of Azdromoth has misguided the Sons of Horen and, while walking among humanity, have poisoned the minds of Emperors and Kings, and sought to pervert the unity in Godfrey's vision. For the world will be drowned in blood lest we take up this holy path of virtue and righteousness. Like Sigismund, whose visions allowed him prophetic vision, we will see truth and be able to see past the false skins of the dragon's minions. I call upon all Vasoyevi to come together and give no quarter to any Azdrazi that they find, neither in the lands of Vasiyeva nor in other lands they are found. And fear not! Though we will face persecution by the Sons of Horen who have been deceived and harbor the deceivers, the Aengul has promised us Salvation in the Seven Skies if our persecution leads us to the end of our time upon the mortal coil.

 

I place my love, faith, and hope in all of you,

Ursula Soreana Vasović

[Capt_Chief26 1205]

Reinhardt Barclay remembers when that man claiming to be the Son of God came into the Church. He grimaces at the memory of his cut out tongue, all bloody and how he had denied the water he had offered him

[Ryloth 4314]

[!] A letter is delivered to the town watchmen of the Vasoyevi by courier.

 

Spoiler

 

 

 

HEXLITH UI CONFNIR

 

“VASIYEVA, heed our call! Beware the False Prophet of yours for they spell your demise. A calamity arises, and it behooves the reader to bide time for the crimson horizon draws near. Your land is of our TITAN's and will cinder to ash beneath HIS ire should the interloper Aengul nay ferry the remorseful words of surrender. The call to arms upon HIS children will not go unanswered, and the merciless footfalls of our kind will reap the rolling hills of yours to down-trodden ember and ash. We seek no coin, no land, no keeps. Your homes shall burn, your citadel will fall, and your mosque shall not be spared. Your people will suffer, and they will die. WOEFUL is your end-time, for it is NIGH. Hear our call, or your blood shall run the earth red.

 

HARK: BEG FOR FORGIVENESS FOR THAT IS YOUR SALVATION. KNEEL BEFORE OUR KING. HIS TALONS, TEETH, AND SCALES WILL BE YOUR BOUNTY, AND YOUR FALSE PROPHET SHALL FLEE TO THE HEAVENS IN RETREAT."

 

[!] The letter was left unsigned, perhaps merely the wild ravings of a madman.

[Monomakhos 1837]

 

The smoldering embers of a fire were all that remained to illuminate the stygian recesses of the hollow. Dull light, fading into the throes of unmaking as heat wilted off the heap of ash and cinder. THUD. The noise reverberated against the walls of the chamber, a distant echo slow to fade with each step. THUD. Silence pursued the noise, and the room fell still to the haggard breathing of a drained soul. Suddenly, there was light. Blazing, it cut through the darkness, the features of a man barely distinguishable amidst the shadow. A fiery limb fell upon the brazier; its cinders kissed by the spark of dragonfire. A pillar of fire plumed towards the ceiling, that sudden crescendo steeping towards an even flame that burned against the cold iron which contained its wrath. The draconic shrine knew warmth again, yet -- illuminated in the glow of the brazier, its true nature revealed, the walls were lined with ancient tapestries, antiquated banners belonging to the holy orders of yore, icons of the saints depicted in their humble radiance, crosses and other relics that spoke to bygone days.

 

THUD. Carried towards the altar by heavy steps, the flames bled away from his arm, and with their demise, so too did the pretense of humanity bleed away from the draconic scion. Ebony scales subsumed flesh, infernal eyes burning in the dim light as the creature’s hands struck against the flat surface. It shook the adornments that rested atop the smooth slab - icons of Exalted Owyn, Saint Lucien, Saint Thomas, Blessed Jack Rovin, yet most important of them all, the martyr High Pontiff, Saint Pius II. The reptilian leaned over the slab, taking meticulous care in rearranging the revered curios into position.

 

He fell to his knees, smoldering gaze lifting beyond the altar towards the suit of armor mounted upon the far wall of the sanctuary, and the threadbare, tattered cloth that furnished it, the red cross of the Lucienist Order, albeit dulled over the years, still emblazoned proudly over the tabard. “Can they truly be considered men? The spawn of the deceiver Sigismund, the false prophet of God, who carried upon his lips the greatest poison to ever be sown across this earth. It never ends, does it? I fought them with prayers upon my lips during the Duke’s War, joyous beneath the incandescent sun of Esheuvard. I fought them when I brought fire to the meek crow, bedecked in her hollow raiments of faith. I fought them when the false pontiff discarded me from the communion of a false church. And I fought them still when I took upon the cross of penance…”

 

Silence overcame the war-weary Nephilim. “It will never end. Not until every last misbegotten crow is sent screaming into the depths of the void. Oh, Olivier, why must you have been lenient towards those dogs? It should not have ended, not until every field in our beloved Oren was wet with the blood of the Adrians, not until every last corpse was damned to the scorched ruins of Brelus. It is yet to be seen if this empty church heeds the cawing of these withered carrion.”

 

The rambling words of the supplicant fell short as he stood to venerate the icon of Saint Pius. Crossing himself, he removed himself from the altar. “They are damned if they do and damned if they don't, are they not? For their vicar of God is no more than an usurper, occupying the throne of a martyred saint.”

[King_Kunuk 888]

A very skeptical high elf reads this message, truly wondering who and what this 'prophet' is. Eventually, he would softly hiss. "Of all the letters to ever come into this city, this one is by far the most outlandish. An aengul daemon choosing to favor a singular city? Sounds to be like more of the work of the demonic attempting to trick those humans too narrow minded to be unable to see the truth of slavery that binds them to this creature. To how far have the sons of Horen have fallen these days.... still ignorant to the faith that controls them"

 

Spoiler

Upvoted post +1. I loved reading it and can see a lot of effort was put into it!

 

[ReveredOwl 5330]

"Did they just not hear or are they being willfully disobedient? They issued a call to arms before even finding out how to identify those in disguise." Grumbled Basil to his fellow curia members.

[HurferDurfer1 2584]

Shobolan resolves to slay anyone with horns, or scales , or fiery breath, in order to keep those demons out of Vasiyeva of course.

[GhostSHTR 1002]

Vladrick Cardinal Savawould slam his hand against his desk "How Dare she do this behind my back and without the church's permission" He'd exclaim grabbing his cane before marching down from his office to find Lady Ursula

[UnBaed 8950]

Molia's hand idly ran through her dark hair which fell over her shoulders, her large silvery eyes were far away as she eyed the dark waters of the river rushing past Izvoroshu.  She had been raised all her life to fear the dragonkin, to place no trust in their honeyed words and to stand your ground when their sweetened promises turned to soured threats.  "The Balaur's greed had kept them from sharing the power of fire with man in the beginning; now with man having mastered the world, the serpents aim to trick our kings and emperors and guide humanity back into ruin; under their rule."  The young Hazmezul woman sighed as she withdrew from her window.  She hoped to never cross paths with another dragon, nor any of their worshippers.