Whom the Ghouls Bleed

[Skelepathic 61]

[!]
These paintings sat at the Holy Alters within the Canonist Churches of the Continent, either on the ground next to them or laid sprawled on their contents.

When coming into contact with this painting, the man in the painting matches the same visual depiction of GOD. The oil on the painting has rotted and a darkened wood surrounds it in a frame. The frame smells of smoke and soot, and the frame was polished. A note sat on the back of the framed painting. 
The note's contents are disturbing at most, they say:

To the Church and It's people,
 

        My existence was nigh to return to this plain and when I returned, I was shocked by the brutality I was given. A wayward soul, as they call me. I was belittled and judged by my companions, stripped of my belongings and my humanity. Before long, I was given the saddened news I had months left to live from an infection called Deadman's rot or as the medical field calls it, Leprosy. My past contradicted my faults and everything else, and I thought I was ready for the people to accept me again but I was wrong. God, of all people, abandoned me in the days becoming of my demise. He left me, ignoring and slandering my prayers to him. I asked for direction from his Holy Disciples and I was kicked away like a stray dog. My soul never separated from this land but my body did.

 

        My past is a blur for me, though somehow I still remember their faint smiles and their laughters. My wife and daughter always seemed to enjoy life to it's fullest extent as I was working hard to appease their lives. As I sat everyday, reading my daughter her favorite book, she always reminded me of my feats and my intentions like she was proud of me. Her gentleness and her loving nature always made me feel the same to her, and I trained her everyday to respect God's will and his way of life but yet, she questioned God. If God existed, why did he let such horrid things happen to good people? My wife questioned when and where she heard this but my daughter was curious of her own delusion. I was quite confused why she would think this, but it did make a bit of sense to me. Why would God All Mighty, father of all, hurt the people he loves? Is it a test of faith?

        My daughter became ill when reaching her teens with an odd illness, nothing the doctors of Olgeria knew and we had quite a lot of good doctors. They said it was a disease only contracted from undead and beasts from the voidal plain, but I was confused. My daughter never interacted or studied voidal magic or undead magic, she was just a child. My daughter slowly became sicker and sicker but she kept her hopes up, even when We, my wife and I, were losing hope. She passed a few months later after such, and I began to sink into a depression of some sorts, losing my only child was hard for me. After which, my Wife, Agatha of Olgeria, decided it was her time to go as well, dying of a disease that I have now contracted from her. 

 

        Was this because I questioned God's will? Was this a chance for redemption? No. No, it wasn't. Our village was being swarmed by undead, and instead of ridding the bodies in a holy flame; They instead dumped them into our rivers and wells, where we bathed and drank from. No, no man of God was as loving or as caring as my daughter was. No, God wasn't as ambitious and as all-mighty as we thought he was. NO, NO GOD EXISTED. There was no all-mighty, there was no singular God that these men and women brought the sword to necks for, no. It was a delusion, a skeptic, a book that these men and women followed for a chance to rid themselves of the sins they committed. It was an act of vigilance and necessity to be different. 

 

        I lost everything for the name of God, my eyes and ears no longer work and now I sat in a vacant loft with no home, no money and no treatment. But then, a man came to me. He saw my dire need of assistance and he offered me a chance to become alive again, but at a cost. I had to serve him. I was desperate and ignored everything in an agony plea but then, darkness. I remembered waking up on a table in a body I didn't recognize but yet, I felt better. I felt a strong relief brought off my shoulders and yet, something was missing. I was left with little emotion, little memory; HELL! I do not remember nobodies faces but yet, I felt better. I had no skin, bear bones down to the joints and the muscles. I stared at my maker, confused but no regret crossed my mind. They took care of me, and treated me like a member of their family.

 

        "Why didn't the Church treat me like this?" I thought, "Why wasn't I some sort of Martyr for what've become of me?" But then it dawned on me. They never cared for me, God never existed, and the Church was just a facade to hide their hatred to opposites. But though I hated the church, I hated myself for believing their lies. Yet, I always feel my daughters hand every so often when I rest, but I can no longer see her face.

 

 

      From this day forth, I DEVOUT MYSELF TO IBLEES. The death of Canonism and the War against the Church has started, undead and lost souls alike will join to face against those who have wronged them. It is not their lands, it was ours and now they rid us from it. Drive us away like pests in a shed, yet we remain!
From this day on, no Canonist will walk safely.

From yours truly,

𝐹𝑒𝓎𝒹𝓇𝒾𝒹 "𝒯𝑜𝒹𝒹" 𝒯𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓃𝑒 𝐼𝒱 𝑜𝒻 𝒪𝓁𝑔𝑒𝓇𝒾𝒶

 

[MadOne 3456]

[!] A note was attached to the note within the Canonist Church in Reinmar, and the notes would soon follow through messengers and altar boys attaching the same script under every Church's notice board, and wherever this note may be found.

 

 

You lie. You mean to say that we have somehow wronged you, and you have fallen down this path. You are a liar. If you are not a liar, then name me one single man who has cast you aside in your time of need from my Church, and I swear before the Lord that I will defrock this man and punish him, thus lifting any crime of which you have commited upon our Church. 

 

But, it is not true, is it? You simply want a scapegoat for selling your soul to the demons and creatures, men with the heads of goats and birds. You simply want to be recognised as someone wronged, that you may point a crooked finger onto something Holy and Virtuous and say 'Behold, for you have WRONGED me, so come and take my rebuke.' 

 

But, it is not true, is it? I dare onto you, friend of mine. Should you wish true help, should you wish to test the Church against your lies, and should you decide to come and seek help, I bow before you. For all manner of men and elfin kind know of my name, as a dispenser of MERCY. I am He who slays not one not which I have not spared at least once. And thus, I offer you this same clemency that had been offered to countless of devilspawn and the iniqutious blasphemer. Cease your senseless lies, and come ask counsel. I have answer for the petty drivel which you have plastered over my Churches, and I have reasons that you are incapable of understanding.

 

And if you are incapable of coming as a brave man and presenting yourself before me as I have commanded you, then at least people will know that I have offered my hand onto you, and it was not my Church which has rejected you, but instead you who have rejected clemency and mercy - this deed which you accuse us of. And, at least when that happens, you will have proven that you are no manner of an oppressed wretch, nor that you were cast aside by mine hand, but that you have sold your soul and spirit to the demons willingly, and without due cause have strayed from the path of the LORD.

 

Thus, my mace fill find upon your forehead.