LectorBloods and FerryCrips could never get along [PK]

[Reckless Banzai Screamer 11638]

 

 

 

“Hey There Callahan!” Father Tonito cried out towards the Breakwater Keep, raising a Lector Red bandana above his head and into the air. He looked around for his hermano but he was not in sight making the old man disheartened. Perhaps it was for the best he chose to avoid the violence of the eve.

 

A bottle of tequila was found on the old Padre who bore no weapons into battle; only his favorite drink and a copy of the Scrolls (The Pre-Saint James Edition)  kept on his person. Throughout the eve of the battle he was yelled at and held down to put on his PeeVeePee gear to which he screamed back “stfu I’m using mi hamon, ***** ass-,” pale gold fire erupted around his wrists as he illuminated the way for the Light Brigade of the Numendains until he lost them amidst the fog of war, having wandered beyond the siege camp alone where he would meet and befriend a wandering olog.

 

 

 

When no familiar faces were in sight, the priest committed to his clerical work, dragging his new companion around and ducking low onto the ground and igniting the deceased in glorious fire in the Owynist Last Rites fashion so that no death wizards would raise them again - regardless of the fallen’s affiliations. It was fortunate for the old priest that a white haired Adunian princess had dug holes prior to dump the bodies in for cremation. Fires burned across the battlefield casting all within it in a smoky haze but still the priest continued his work amidst the roaring, ceaseless cannon fire.

 

It’s unclear who did the padre in for he wandered off alone in a daze but an arrow had burrowed itself straight into the solar plexus of the priest, ceasing his breath and dowsing his inner flame. He could only hope there would be someone there to burn his body in turn now.

 

---

 

((The following has been released publicly IRP))

 

The Will of Father Tonito

Written on 22nd of Tobias Bounty, Year 1951

Antonius Cardinal Artorus
Paco Antonius Temesch de las Palmas
Priest of the Canon and the Owynist Rite
1862 - 1953

 

In the event of my untimely demise, this document in my desk will serve as the will for me, Paco Antonius Temesch de las Palmas. While such an assignment is reserved to His Holiness, I would petition whoever is Pontiff at the time of this release that either Pious Bishop Aquila who has served as a proctor and developer of the new seminary exam serve as Prelate of the Clergy for a smooth transition of the office. Should the Bishop Aquila be sleepy however, I would also recommend Mother Rhosyn of the Diocese of Citrea for the position who often shadowed my work during her acolyteship and assisted me as I oversaw exams. She is young and has great drive in our clerical work. I would also recommend that whoever is the next Prelate to change the deacon exam because it is shit and priests don’t need to know about the Book of Availer. Although I have not been able to complete all of my plans while in office for the duties of a priest are many and there is never respite, it is my wish to see the office developed and grow as well as the office of the Auditor of the Tribunal. My old mind is fading right now but in my late night studies and visits to other parishes it has come to my attention a second miracle attributed to the Blessed Francisco from the execution of one Alberto Murietta but the events of such are muddy in my thoughts. It would honor me greatly to see him canonized as San Francisco.

 

The following are a list of my belongings I desire to have distributed as listed below. Anything else in my possession I offer to my home parish, the Kingdom of Numendil, to do as it sees fit for the prosperity of the community.

 

• I leave a pair of my magic tomes of knowledge to my parish under the custodianship of Queen Caraneth and her family.
• I leave a copy of my studies on Bardmancy to the Church of Canon to assist priests wishing to incorporate show and spectacle into their choirs and masses. Please put this in the library for public use.
• I leave my father’s (Ioannes Temesch) monocle and his Imperial Guard to my first cousin thrice removed Queen Catherine I Temesch. I also leave some extra manuscripts with her.
• I leave my Du Locian Fur Hat and Gill’riik Action Figure to my uncle Dante. There is no shame in where we came from. Thank you for being a second papi to me. Your knowledge and wisdom has benefitted and touched many.
• I leave Uncle Evaristus’ Vihuela to my aunt Aelia. I’m sorry I had no heirs. I like you more than Jenny.
• I leave my mariachi trumpet and flamenco guitar to Mother Rhosyn. You have been a bright light and joy to my elder years. I wish for all great things to come your way.
• I leave my religious texts and past student exams with Bishop Pious. I leave our Diocese of Aquila to the Numendain.

 

        To my beloved brother Bishop Callahan, I pray one day you can find peace.

 

        To my cousin Arnaud, please wrap up the magic investigation for me primo. I didn't make it. I was so old.

 

I would like to let my parish and all my brothers and sisters in the Church know that I loved you all very much in life and have appreciated each of your efforts in reinvigorating our body of clergy from its decrepitness of pastimes. Our duty is to spread His word and enlighten His creation to His intentions for us. Remember GOD’s virtue and spirit and remember compassion for one another for life is precious. Also please let the gays marry. I cannot stand most women and could never bear to spend all my life with one. I have hid this secret ashamed of what others thought and swore a life of celibacy to please our almighty DIOs but if I learned anything in my long studies of the scrolls, it is that GOD probably doesn’t care who you love and just wants you to be good to your fellow descendants. I pray Braevos y Canondom will heal one day.

 

Don’t bury me, cremate me and send my ashes to Hyspia.
 

Dios Bless and Flame Keep You,
Father Toni

[tasty_cheesecake 915]

“NOOOOO MI PRIMO NOOOOO!” cries Enrique from his hospital bed (he sprained his ankle right before the battle)

[Fleeperpriest 261]

NOT LIKE THIS

3 hours ago, Reckless Banzai Screamer said:

“Hey There Callahan!”

not like this...

 

 

 

Callahan had woken determined that day. Fore that day was an auspicious day. Leaping out of bed, and marching forth at once to his Owynist temple, as it were the day of services, there was great energy about the air. There was a spectacular attribute to the spirit of a priest. It was a power unlike any other, a potency of the soul, a force that set forth the man like a spring unto the world. He understood this to be the unique charism of the ordained minister, the true and devoted servant of God, and he knew no other field, no passion, no craft, no whim or whimsy nor even any curse or plight or addiction or any other manner of things that blessed or befouled man that was equal to it in its poignancy. The man, the minister, each and all, knew unto himself that he was called, ordained, divined to do the will of his master, at any hour, at any given day. Such was the lot of their lives, and their joy, and their great passion.

 

Today was by no means an exception. Nor, even, was it an exemplary day; it was, like any other, rich with work. There was a distant cindering, an upset. He could detect it in much the same way that a man can detect with his nose the beginnings of a fire within his walls. This was not alarming, it was very familiar. It was that oft-heard call to arms of spiritual warfare, and somewhere, somehow, he knew not where or how, today he had to fight. Concluding his services, he set out to do so.

 

"Why, I should cut you down!" cried an Aaunishman in his human rage.

 

The priest had perked, his head high, a brow raised.

 

"What do you do, ever, but complain?" cried another, in symphony with them.

 

Now, the priest had come to grin. An uncanny look from a man befouled by his company, even called to death! It begged a knowing, as though he understood the folly of their ways- more likely, as though he were so pompous as to invite it. But neither of these were true. 

 

"What are you doing, man, that is a priest!" called an Aaunish knight, and all was again well.

 

In an instant, a room of turmoil had dissipated. The priest's nigh pleased expression retreated, again priestly, again dispassionate, in as much as a man of passion is able to be. Such was the nature of the priest that the man, in his totality, faults and all were at the disposal of God. The knowing he had experienced was not of their folly, but of his purpose before them, fore he had possessed a very special charism; he was exceptionally annoying. Sanctifingly annoying. And that, exactly, was his purpose, then and there, in that time and at that place. And though he was accosted- he was pleased! The battle was won, and his poor 'victims' had, again, been truly sanctified. Fore they had seen, as all men ought to see, that the priest, while alike to every man in his person, is unlike all men in his ways.  Today, he had again proved the great mercy of man, his obedience, that foolish creature that stood as God's authority on Earth. If they could obey him, they could obey Him. If they could respect the sanctity of his person, they could respect the sanctity of His person. Again, he was pleased, and left thinking the day's battle was won. 

 

 

If they had but known it- all they had to do was leave the priest alone. Cut him down? Who would think it! Their nation would sooner turn to ash. One crack in that defense, one breach in the wall, one vengeful idiot and all the iniquity of man could again seep out into the world through the blood of the men who had, by their life's ordained purpose, contained and disposed peaceably of it.

 

But who would do such a thing? Not anyone this priest could fathom. But this was not his thinking when he woke- the people of Aaun were good people, and still he tested them. Why would he lower his guard, now? The great sin of sloth had struck him, and he did not go where God had stationed him.

 

The wise teachers have spoken of mortal sin. The poor creature could not fathom the extent of the weapons of Human concupiscence. The razor edge on that small, small blade.

 

 

But who would kill a priest?

 

Edited December 4, 2023 by Fleeperpriest
קלח

[SimplySeo 5274]

An injured Hedgeknight once known as Uriel- Uther, and Tar-Númenatâr, King of the Adunians, wades into the battle, longsword in blazing with white fire.

 

In that moment, a blackness consumed the Templar's heart, and fey was he. For now none lived who knew him as an equal, save the Dwarf, Belekar. This he knew, and this he mourned, to him, Tony was more a brother than any of his blooded kin.

Edited December 3, 2023 by SimplySeo

[Ireneically 248]

24 minutes ago, Reckless Banzai Screamer said:

 

 

When no familiar faces were in sight, the priest committed to his clerical work, dragging his new companion around and ducking low onto the ground and igniting the deceased in glorious fire in the Owynist Last Rites fashion so that no death wizards would raise them again - regardless of the fallen’s affiliations. It was fortunate for the old priest that a white haired Adunian princess had dug holes prior to dump the bodies in for cremation. Fires burned across the battlefield casting all within it in a smoky haze but still the priest continued his work amidst the roaring, ceaseless cannon fire.

 

It’s unclear who did the padre in for he wandered off alone in a daze but an arrow had burrowed itself straight into the solar plexus of the priest, ceasing his breath and dowsing his inner flame. He could only hope there would be someone there to burn his body in turn now.

 

---

 

((The following has been released publicly IRP))

 

Antonius Cardinal Artorus
Paco Antonius Temesch de las Palmas
Priest of the Canon and the Owynist Rite
1862 - 1953

 

 

 

(Permission given from @Reckless Banzai Screamer to find the body)

 

The mentioned white haired princess...  She was the one to have found the body alongside her father, Uther. As stated... Tonito was pulled to a grave previously dug, though given one far from the others with some lilies ground about it.  The one closest to Numendil. Tears rolled down Briar's cheeks as she look upon the eccentric cardinal whom she had grown up with... 

 

This... This is exactly what she meant... The resentment toward the war and unto aevos has been solidified.  

 

A match dropped into the dug hole, to burn the body of Antonius Cardinal Artorus. The sound of cries rippling through the forest, ugly and harrowing.

[JoanOfArc 4586]

Father Temesch hugged his son as he entered the seven skies. "Took you long enough, pukio..." He said to him. "Now, I was meaning to ask you about my monocle-- I cannot really see up here-- What? You gave my monocle away?

 

There was a long sigh, but ultimately it ended with an embrace.

[TN_TURKEY 101]

2 minutes ago, SimplySeo said:

An injured Hedgeknight once known as Uriel- Uther, and Tar-Númenatâr, King of the Adunians, wades into the battle, longsword in blazing with white fire.

 

He fights not to kill- But to retrieve the body of one of his oldest friends, steely-faced and silent, the Wyvern-Helm of Aranath gazes upon his fallen comrade. With a tear in eye, Uther brings Tony home.

Side-by-side with Uther, a ragged and worn dwarvish warrior, Belekar Starbreaker, known amongst the humans as Baerte, would collapse before the fallen form of Tony, war-mattock clattering to the earth. Even amongst the din of battle, even before they lift his body from the mud, he grieves. 

"He deserved better... He deserved peace."

[milksoda 719]

Atsuko, whose Canonist name were once Aelia held the tear stained missive in quivering hands "W- who the **** is Jenny. . ."

Though she casted aside comedic relief "There is nothing to apologize for, I have always been proud of you." - "No matter what." She'd exhale, lowering the missive and casting gaze outside the window, rethinking all the dancing classes she had enrolled him in as a young boy.

The Samurai went outside, as she take sake gourd in hand and pop the cork. Pouring one out for a real religious man.

[wowj 2836]

The Wandering Olog wipes a tear from the corner of his eye after watching the priest get torn to shreds by the Ferrymen, picking up the Padre's Tequila from his corpse after a Ferryman had cast the bottle aside

 

[marikandaperc 1168]

Helena of Formindon took a deep breath. While overall distraught by the loss of the Cardinal, who had taken care of her Owynistic lectures twenty years earlier was enough of a toll upon her fatigued shoulders, those words he had left struck a nerve deep within her very Soul. 

 

Peace...

 

After a visit to the various statues of Saint King Caius, the aging Dame decided it would be best to leave a lit candle under each and everyone of them. After she returned home, she spent some time to hear Bishop Callahan's counsel. "I shall train to avenge his death." the Holy Dame spoke, at last, to her best friend. After picking up her spear, she left for a training journey.

[SteppeNomad 1552]

A machinepriest sifts through the ashes for Tonito's skull....

 

"Even in death, do you serve. Old ally."

[AstriaS 3715]

The Númenedain Queen, Tar-Caraneth Aryantë had been so consumed by the fever of battle, blade aflame with holy light, that she hadn't even noticed that she had lost track of her dear friend and spiritual guide... All too late it was by the time she heard of his fate. That night, she wept.

[HugoAntero 750]

Peter Stroheim did his best to comfort his weeping wife,

a tear falling down his cheek.

[Borin 5260]

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO TOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII" CRIES CARDINAL ODO

[cadazio 332]

Bishop Frantzisko wept for the man who ordained him, and prayed he found safe passage to the Seven Skies.

 

"It's so over..." he bawled.