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The Ichor Way [Creed Hub]


Brandles
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All images used for Ichorian posts are made by me, unless stated otherwise.

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[Rites of the Ichor Way]

Music for thought [Contains Lyrics]

Traditions which stifle, but do not temper. Rites which only draw blood, yet never bring it to boil. The true meaning of Ichor has been lost, and the message has strayed from what the Koi intended. Though I did not know him, it brings me great mirth to continue his work as his Caerme’onn seed brother.

 

We are creatures of Ichor, of material most divine; We are of flesh, of blood, of power. Ichor is not simply what we bleed. But like blood, it is the passion that courses within us and fuels us. It is the pain, sorrow, rage, and joy that has tempered us into the creatures we are. Without passion, we can never truly be bound to duty. 

 

It is ever the way of nature that the strongest should be poised to rule. Strength is no mere feat of brawn, nor the apex of intellect. While these are tools that you may employ, and I encourage you to do so, to thrive amongst the ebb of nature is to follow in the footsteps of those who call it home; Beasts. It is the instinct and impulse of a beast that is honed, most, above all else. A great adaptability and passion for that which they stand by.

 

The wilds are a realm of constant strife, a battle of longevity under the weight of nature; each creature suffering so it may survive. Only those that adapt live, and those who stop at nothing thrive. Hear me, auld Ichorians. Your Herald, The Ichor Druid, is naught but a loveless crone. She does a disservice to her people, her Creed, by teaching them through senselessness. Pain inflicted only for pain’s sake, as if to say that nature itself is nonsensical. Nature’s chaos is its sense, an orderly chaos hand-hewn by the Aspects.

 

Nothing is taught by pain without purpose, experience without meaning. Nature is cruel, true, but never without reason and cause to be. Sacrifice has no meaning if it lies in vain. Passivity is the greatest sin to the Ichorian, causing little surprise to know that this dogma festered in the hands it does now.

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Red Herald

The Herald is a valuable role, tasked with the upbringing of Aspirants and maintenance of the Ichor Way. It is a Herald that is looked to, when the time comes to profess the Creed, and lead its sacred rites. Heralds are chosen, for they exemplify the passions an Ichorian strives to embody. They alone are tasked with erecting new tomes and epithets of the Ichor Way, and the appointment of Heralds.

Ichorian

 A Creedbrother who has undergone all requisite trials, and completed their rite of marking. They understand and have performed the rites well, and join the fold to profess and uphold the tenets of our creed. They may hold rites as needed, and profess the tenets to the public. To teach the Aspirant seedlings, and guide them as they do their trials under a Herald.

Aspirant

The veritable life of the Ichor Way comes in the great spirit of new blood and faces. The Aspirant undergoes the trials to learn wholly of our path, and the care we take as it relates towards our goals and veneration. They are students first, but even they may shed light on mysteries not yet revealed even to Heralds themselves. 

 

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To find their stride as a Creed-sibling, a newblood must partake in the Rite of Expression before they are exalted into the state of an Aspirant and begin their trials to join the faith. The point of such a rite is to foster kinship between pupil and teacher. Permutations on the rite depend on the wills of the Ichorian Elder, but always contain a binding of the eyes and nature-walk with student and teacher. During the Rite, the pupil will speak their truths to the Elder, professing their life’s strifes, its woes, and great happinesses: from where the student’s fervor derives itself.

 

At the end of the memory-walk, the student and teacher will join one another in a great release. This may take the form of screaming at the exalted sky, crying, but the student must be able to expunge themselves of the passion they have bottled and allowed to well. To forever remove the levee of their mind and begin the constant flow and churn of their emotions. All the experiences should be used by the instructing Herald to inform their trials therein, tailored to the pupil’s needs while teaching them of our Creed’s rites and practices.

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The Tome of First Blood, as dictated by the Koi Druid; Reimagined by the Buzzard Druid.

   

“Harmony doesn’t exist, there is only the rage of survival, a never-ending chaos for supremacy.” 

 

    To live towards your true self is what it means to walk perfectly alongside nature, not until you have suffered like nature shall you understand what it means to walk like it. Nature is a never-ending fight for survival, and the pain and chaos it continuously lives in can be echoed in yourself. Only then when you look past the serene nature of a forest, or a grove and look deeper at some plants struggling for sunlight, or a fly’s final flight will you understand that even if you cannot see it, or choose to ignore it, nature is always wrought with survival and chaos. 

 

    Harmony is a simple word that we use to describe things that we do not truly understand, for there is never peace nor harmony in nature. We are always hungry, always tired, always emotional. We act often out of someone else's expense. To try to live your life passively, to hide from the extremities of nature is pure cowardice. A simple sign that you lack the fortitude to accept how nature truly behaves, and what our instinct brings us to achieve. 

    “In the passion of nature, my emotions bring me strength, to go beyond convention.”

 

    We mustn’t ever stagnate, for our passiveness can lead us to rest upon our laurels. To stop striving for greater. We should always be prepared to evolve, adapt and overcome. There is no end, for if we slow down eventually we will be overtaken. No matter the title you hold, it will mean nothing in chaos, or to nature. Passion is what keeps creatures alive, to continue to strive for survival. Should they ever begin to slow down marks the end of their life. 

 

    To believe that as descendants we are without the need of our simple passions and conventions alongside the creatures we live amongst is a lie. What you have achieved, what you have done will mean nothing in time. Those of the future will forget, or they will not care. Never stop, continue to drive. It’s our passion that will keep us on top.    

 

    “I will continue to stack my victories, until nature and I are free from this burden.”

     

    The vices of civilization make us weak, soft. Many burden themselves behind walls, with a keyhole look to the world around them. While the mass production of voidal witches continues to grow, whilst atrocities go untested. The haven of the walls around you make you weak, we used to fight for our survival yet no we no longer need to. We've lost our touch with nature. Many druian look at the strife of nature from their high horse, it’s one thing to recognize the true face of nature, but do you live among it?

     

    I forfeit the vice of civility, I do not need a weapon to hunt. I do not need to rely on my eyes to see. As I have shown my students, you rely on the things most precious to you too much. The constructs of civilization, they have made you weak. You are used to the read supply of food, these comforts keep you from experiencing nature. It’s only when you break away from your old comforts can you really be free, to walk among nature as if it were your own. He who has achieved victory whilst shattering all restrictions has walked closest with perfection.     

 

    “I am taught of Nature; Guided by Wild Hands.”

     

When we, Children of Malin, departed from our first father’s gilded halls, the ‘ame forged their own paths and gathered in great kinships. These olden tribes lived in great accordance with the wilds, and adopted the reverence of the Wild Gods; Aspects and Mani to guide them. We have always called Mother and Father; Sanctuary and Hunt, the wisdom behind our cause. 

 

However, I believe, in this new age of Ichor, that our eyes ought to fall upon the guidance of creatures who are more kin to the wild than we. The Mani exemplify the ideals that the ‘ame can strive for. Bolomormaa is the matron of clan-kinship, and ferocious motherhood; as Amaethon is the stalwart patron of guidance.

 

We are fools to ignore them as they are, and fools-more not to emulate them in service to the balance.

 

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As long as you have blood to spill, you will find your strength. This is the belief of the Ichor Way, and those who follow it. The path is difficult to walk, but those who do can hold themselves in high regard. That which is difficult is not always bad, and that which is easy is not always best. 

 

I pledge myself to these tenets and my blood to this oath, for I am Ichorian.

 

Passivity is a sign of cowardice. To refuse to act is a refusal to perform your duties.

Refusing violence is an ultimate sign of cowardice, not all things can be resolved in words, nor should they be.    

Always be prepared to fight for what’s just. Allowing yourself to stagnate is allowing yourself to fall victim to the cycle of redundancy. Regardless of your old achievements, you will be forgotten. 

As Mali, as I assume the majority of Aspirants will be, we should not allow a long life to delude us into believing we must succumb to futile patience and idleness. A life, however long, should be spent moving upward.

Allowing fear to control your actions, or preventing you from making a decision is cowardice, let fear make you stronger. Release yourself from your passivity.    

 

Civilization breeds weakness in the hearts of our kin. Learn what it means to survive.

Always be prepared to give up your vices, what is closest to you. To become dependent is weakness. If you want something, always be prepared to fight for it.    

To not be able to hunt or fight is pure weakness, these are completely necessary in finding strength.    

If you need weapons and armour to fight or hunt, then learn to act without them. Always be prepared at the worst of times.    

To rely on only one of your senses is naive, learn to act with your ears, with your smell. Utilize what the Aspects have given you fully.    

 

Strive for greatness, never let yourself fall off.

Regardless of your titles and achievements, you can always continue to press yourself towards greater. As they can mean nothing in time. 

Never allow yourself to become passive, don’t let fear or your position stop you from gaining more.    

Regardless of the beliefs of others, you can take what you deserve with a heavy hand. But always be prepared to face the consequences.

 

Protect and teach, but teach those to stand on their own.

 

The young ones among us are impressionable, but must eventually rise as you have. Give them the teachings they need, protect them while they are still being honed, and teach them to fight their own battles.     

Make your kin strong, only by inciting these teachings can we as a nation, seed, family, begin to show true excellence.

 

Learn from your history, your ancestors. Honor tradition, for they walked closer to nature.

 

 Examine the legends of the past, the Oracles and ancestors who shaped your kin to how they are. There are many lessons to be learned from them.  

 Inherit their strength, for they survived in strife for you, do not pass on your weakness, pass on the strength that flows through you.    

 

Keep good to your oaths. There’s no greater sign of weakness than unloyalty.

 Whether to the Aspects, clan, or Seed; Your oaths are binding, to disregard them is an absolute sign of failure.

 Bring greatness and victory to them, you have the potential to bring greatness to your kin in the name of the Aspects, use it well.

 Making an oath is not a passive task, always make them with a clear conscience, don’t forget what you stand for.

 

Achieve what you must by any means necessary.

Never be afraid of extreme actions, but do not take them lightly. Many big extremes have caused our kin greatness. 

You may be disparaged by those near to you, even your own kin, by the decisiveness you employ. Do not let it stifle your resolve. Teach those who doubt  that action, above all, is most important.

 

Always bear purpose. Partaking in senselessness is tantamount to idleness.

To act in any way without cause is to admit your ambition has died, and passions run dry.

Pain is sacred only when it bears purpose. Nature is in constant bloodshed for necessity and survival. Blood spilled through torture is wasteful.

 

You are a being of raw, powerful fervor. Never stifle yourself.

Our emotions and experiences provide us with power beyond our own understanding. Do not be afraid to be fueled by hatred, rage, passion, sorrow, or pleasure. Calmness is not clarity.

Fear is a tool, cause it as you see fit and use your own to foster survival.

It is wasteful to pin your emotions. Scream when the desire overcomes you. Cry when you are cleaved by sorrow or joy. Be true: never silent, and seldom stoic.

 

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Credit goes solely to the original author of the Ichor Way, mitto. All writing is based off of original texts and threads. Extra thanks to frankdh, 248pengin, and rathat for their help.

 

The Ichor Way (Original by mitto)

Ichorian Practices (by mitto)

Edited by Brandles
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Nedai remembers the time he almost subjected himself to this, offering a smile before leaving the parchment wherever it was posted. "I bet Melvin would join this.." he states as he goes about the rest of his day.

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An unremembered Ichorian of yore, once a cultural head of its warrior, perked amongst his solitude at the mention of his ancient ways; before his eyes narrowed in contemplation. 

 

 

“Wisdom comes alone through suffering,” murmured the soldier as his bone-knife returned to his hilt, a slaughtered deer on the soil beneath. He shook his head, staring at the catch. “Torture, dear friend; it was torture then and now. A path most honourable, perhaps, yet scars live on the soul as valleys between mountains. Pray they learn; for a soldier haunted by his tutelage is no soldier at all.” 

 

Lysanthir, the Druii and warrior unremembered, then ran his Ichor filled fingers cross his face; two lines highlighted once more beneath his eyes in eternal memory. “Pray they learn,” before he and the deer vanished between trees of the forest. 

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