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Beset on all sides!; Stassion and the Folly of the Godwinites; the Wickedness of the Magi


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The True Faith.

The Holy, Holy Church.

The Light, the Pyre, the Stronghold of God.

The way of our Lord the God of Horen.


None could say this was an easy path to take, and never had it been an easy road to follow. Long has the House of Horen been trapped in the perpetual captivity of Iblis. Long has it survived the chafing bonds, and long has its adherents absorbed the bruise, the sword, the battery of the club, the false rod of ‘good justice’ that does fall upon the head of the righteous. Every tabernacle flame burning, every candle flickering, every temple raised and prayer uttered, all to the ends of the stronghold of God. Our weapons of defense in this, our long captivity, the ball of our cannons, the steel of our swords. By the keeping of these things have we endured, from cave to cave, from land to land, from temple to temple on the long road of our atonement. 


Such has been the state of affairs for hundreds upon hundreds of years. For many hundreds more before it, too, the war of Iblis has gone raging on and on from the time of our Fathers, through the great schisms, through the persecutions, and into this, our day.


Ever has it been the duty of Man, the sons of Horen, in keeping his covenant, to cast out the agents of the dark, hold to virtue, and do battle with the enemies of God, of the faith, wherever they should appear. This war on Man that is perpetrated by the Evil One, it has known no boundaries, no lines or divisions between Horen and his sons. It has known only Man, Horen, enemy. Similarly, it does not understand Oren, nor Haense, nor Adria. It knows only Man, Horen, enemy. In knowing this we understand that, likewise, and measure by measure, we must do battle with evil in accordance with the presence of evil. It has ever been Man’s great temptation, great driving thirst to attain temporal victory. This, we must not permit, as it is the will of Iblis, and certainly his will shall see us in the company of Iblis as we wage war upon Man. To the ends of the defeat of Iblis? No, no man is so foolish as to think it! But for the victory of this tribe or that, this crown or another. This terrible, evil heresy of pragmatism is perhaps the most dangerous of all sins present in the be-deviled heart of Mankind. 


And so, I call unto those who heed the words of Virtue, who shall keep the covenant of Horen, of Owyn, and of Godfrey each, to do battle with evil measure by measure. 


Where the enemy hides, go forth and battle him at once! He who does not cast the stone upon the spawn of Iblis has forsaken God, his King, and Horen, his father! Let no alliance harbor the enemies of God.



II. The Folly of the Godwinites. !! EXCOMUNICATION !!

Heed, ye, who has led so many astray! We write now our condemnation of the man, patriarch Stassion, Frederick Aurelian.


You have heard of the regicide of King Edmund of Aaun at the hands of the forces of stassion, and you have read also of the merciful verdict of Father John Aaun-Steward and Priest, who has waived from the head of the Lord Stassion Richard, feudal lord, and master of that host that has committed the grave crime and sin of regicide. And rejoice, as this is very just! For in as much as this man had thought to hold the rod by which the forces of Stassion have been commanded to evil, the great and terrible fault of this crime, the root of it, was not born in the heart of that man and lord. No, it was born in the heart of Frederick Aurelian, his father! 


This man Frederick, a forsaken priest, has thought it within his power to walk away from the Priesthood of Owyn, going so far as to bar from his son’s Stassion the preacher and the priest, furious even at the sight of them, furious at the invasion of his exile by the word of God. And so it was that, to now, Stassion has fled the communion of its Bishop and Church, insular in its ways, and keeping only to the teachings of its elders of rotted soul and false, twisted teaching.


The fruits of this damnable labor may be seen plainly in the attitude of the unfortunate, ignorant soldiery of Stassion, who have so been misled to the hatred of the priest, while thinking themselves right and proper still in the eyes of God. 


This is the consequence of the heresy of the Godwinites, as spoken of in rebuke by Owyn, to which their teacher and people have succumbed. The worship of the Lord and King over the Lord God, the heeding of the ministry of the blade before the ministry of the kohen, the exaltation of the prince as priest. All are cautioned never to fall as they have fallen, do not follow in the footsteps of the sons of Godwin! What is holy in the blood of a nobleman? What is sacred in the ancient banner of a nation put to death by the will of God? Such things have these Godwinites-heretical taken upon themselves as idols in veneration . Oren, Oren, they cry! This is our legacy and birthright! This is the house of the Lord! But this house has fallen. 


“Hail Aurelius the Preserver!” shouts the heretic. But what has this man preserved? Wherefore is his Empire? Do not hail false men, fore you shall quickly forget the coming of the third son, who may yet rescue you! The same may be said, it is known, of Sigismund. Whatfore has he preserved? This argument had ought to be known well to a people who have claimed to follow the rite of Owyn- in truth, this is inveigled heresy, and the exaltation of a false man as prophet, his deeds no greater than the deeds of any prince, his prophecy the prophecy of the nations, his works the work of the vain, the labor that has cast us time and time again from the lands of God.


Frederick Aurelian, by your own will have you severed yourself from the Church, from the lead of your Bishop, and by your own will have you shirked the duties of your oath-sworn vocation, the Priesthood. Do not permit yourself to succumb to this sin, you may yet reconcile! Soften your heart, again, to the ministry of Owyn’s priesthood. Satisfy the honor of your Bishop whom you have set upon like a dog! Once sworn into the service of the Priesthood set out by Owyn, one’s soul is forever shackled to God in obedience and servitude. The charisms of this calling can not be extinguished, and only by your stubborn will have they been turned into the instrument of Shaitan. Return to us!


Surrender yourself in humility into the custody of your Bishop in Citrea, and in humility you will be received. The sanctuary afforded to the servants of the temple shall be extended onto you, and through the keeping of the pyre may your sins be burnt away. Such are the terms of your reconciliation. 



III. The Wickedness of the Magi


From the shadows of that holy, holy land of Petra has risen a foul and terrible, tumorous heresy. The convents of the Magi have gone so long unchecked that in their decadence, they have come to, at last, reveal their true unrepentant colors. Even now do they publish, article after article, piece after piece, the foul declarations of a people captivated by idolatry. They have taken the void, succumbed to the temptation of Iblees, and they have raised it as an idol of their worship!


We of the Faith have not heard Owyn’s Epistle to the Magi. We have ignored it, we have not heeded the words, not acted upon them. It is no wonder that they have grown so flagrant, so very brazen in their ways. The reverence of this sick power prevails all layers of society- even in crypts, where in a right and honest nation the dead are honored, one finds instead the token gratitudes of the font of power. 


The void-addicted Magi has risen up an army, a city. The so-called Honkmat. No happy honking to be found here, no Caiusian virtues, no clowns, it is certain. So too have they joined forces, now, with the temporal authorities as soldiers, weapons of mass-destruction, bought with loyalty and coin and all manner of favor- but loyal, in turn, to none but their power, the whispers of their ear, the commands of the unseen commandants that perpetuate their seemingly un-impeded march to Sheol, their own damnation their own ends. 


To all good, true souls of the Faith, do not brook this subtle war upon your faith and Blessed Lord. Fear not the slaying of the Lurinite, nor his sick brother the Honkmati, fore both Magi have taken the Void for an idol before the True God, both have now joined forces with the enemy. Be they sponsored by Petra, harbored by Haense, concealed in Veletz, hidden in Adria, it all is irrelevant! If the means of the Magi is to conceal himself under the banner of the righteous nations of the Kingdom of God, then they shall find quickly that the nations find no meaning to any of the Faith who wields a blade, and casts a stone. 


No man of God can be held accountable for the doing of his duty by faith.


Do not brook the tyranny of the Magi, the power-addicted Maliniim, the twisted fallen Horenite. Let any man who casts a stone upon them know the great praise of the Church, just as he knows the great love of God, who guards those who guard his realm.



Callahan of Mont Lemon 

Edited by Fleeperpriest
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Morgan of Angren reads as he is on the mend from the latest battle against Gashadabokurokinoadurokuro. One thing was certain to the knight, Stassion remained a thorn to all the Heartlands.

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Valindra nodded in approval, exhaling that of a sigh. "They accused me of working with the Azdrazi falsely. I've little energy to defend them as I had before. May GOD have mercy on their souls.."

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Ser Pierre La Beaux La Pappinon De Citron reapplies his leather glove after slapping a knight for his unchivalrous behavior. 


"Prove it to me! Callahan! Prove to the LADY that you are true! In your own words!


"Where the enemy hides, go forth and battle him at once! He who does not cast the stone upon the spawn of Iblis has forsaken god, his king, and HOREN his father! Let no alliance harbor the enemies of GOD!"






The knight of citron did call. 


"OUI! WAS the elf a fine one! But no matter what MERCIES you may feel in the most iniquitous part of your urges! She is NOT YOUR BLESSING! She has taken the dragon into her heart, and the void into her soul! You call out in number 'III' for the wickedness of magi, yet you HOST the most WICKED one of all! Know it true Callahan! If your epistle to be true! If your call for GLORY and CHIVALRY IS REAL! Then you would endeavor to PURGE THE INIQUITY from your side!" 


The glorious lemon knight called out, eyes stinging, baptised now in the juice of the lady of citron. Oh did he weep for the state of the parish he found himself in. 


"FIND IT IN YOUR HEART! THE PURITY OF THE JUICE OF OUR MAID!!! And let great praise fall upon he, who calls out the impure! The iniquitous!"



The knight Pierre raised his bent sword after the cursed battle. Praying the bishop would finally do some right by the faith of the righteous owyn and purge the impure




Edited by Azukazi Khuzai
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A mechpriest ticks after receiving a letter from a pure honorable knight begins to create the script... He sanctifies the robots involved with blessed incense and sacred oil. Setting off to aid in the investigation... "OH OWYNSSIAH! Show to all the truth of the iniquitous... Show to all the truth of reality... Gird these units against impurity... Let not the curse of SHAI'TAN wrack your data... Let not your weapons malfunction in the time of need..."


The mechpriest signed the cross in front of the DOOM BOT. Unfailing champion of truth.


"Reveal to all the nature of victory. Reveal to all, the nature of P U R I T Y"

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Jurkha Faochak examined the rondel he had been gifted at the end of their meeting with a certain man. Deep in thought was the knights-errant. "It will not come to it." The warrior uttered to himself as self-assurance. But he was not so sure. "I will make sure it does not come to it."

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"Be they sponsored by Petra, harbored by Haense, concealed in Veletz, hidden in Adria..." Atticus Reinhold murmurs the words under his breath as he reads, before letting out a weary sigh. "It seems like our author is on the edge of a realization- Magi are everywhere. They will always be everywhere. There's really no getting rid of them, no matter how many you harass, or strike down, and- Well- Isn't it far better for him and his that we are within our walls, self-governing, our disputes contained, and frankly not bothering anyone?" He folds the missive neatly, before filing it away in his personal library. "He can accept that our corner of the world will continue to exist- Let us have our peace, and he has his. Or he can fight a never-ending battle on every front, for the rest of his life, trying to squash out a practice that has become engrained into almost every nation on this continent. I would choose the peace. But not all men are clever ones."

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"Attempting to slander a gift of GOD and call it iblees worship is truly a heinous sin. One cannot speak for GOD, such is heresy. All souls hold a connection to the void, Deus Vult."

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