CALL FOR PENANCE

[BlauRps 545]

From her humble abode away from the insanity of the Empire, Cesia, Baroness of Perduran, would read over the missive that was given to her by a servant as she sipped on her tea.

 

After a moment of silent reading and a sip of tea, she gave a soft smile “Finally, at least someone in Imperial territory speaks out about that madman.. I should send a letter to His Holiness soon.” She commented to herself as she walked back to her room to start writing.

[Nectorist 12869]

Valentin, shackled to his desk by clasps of fear and indecision, reaches for the dagger before him. He begins to pick at the table, his head swirling too greatly to muster a prayer for His Holiness, for whose life he fears for greater than his own. Thoughts turn to fight, thoughts turn to flight, but all he does is sit.

[Lortime 1153]

"Finally, the Church is slipping out from the oppressive, sickly boot of the Imperium. I pray it is not cowed by whatever happens next." Parzival gleefully smiled. "Hadrian never had the mandate of GOD, but this as close as we'll get I suppose, to true justice." 

[Baccaaa 490]

"For what he lacks in stature he posseses in spiritual growth." Commented a certain elvess as she read the missive from within her ship's quarters.

[juliaINC 592]

 

1 hour ago, kuerbis said:

Valentina doubled over; she rolled on the floor, unable to draw breath. Tears streamed down her face, gasps escaping her. As the Maids of the Celosian palace examined the situation, they found that she was laughing.

 

The imperial bedchamber doors closed. One handmaiden uttered to the other in the silent corridor, interrupted only by distant wails of joy, "Shush now, and let no one enter until she is calm . . . Let the crown crumble the crozier. This is the sound of a sizeable supper."

[marikandaperc 1817]

Sigrid lit up a candle for her Pontiff,  one for Leviticus I and then one for the Emperor

[amyselia 2962]

Wilfrieda considered the ramifications of current events as she balanced a golden coin against its own weight. . . She was fixed to its attention, imagining it were the world, dipping and rising, turning on its head, only to so easily be flipped to where it all began again with a rapid flicker of the wrist.

 

"As we play the games of power." Her voice rasped with foreboding.

 

"This time, the match has been set. The last rook is left standing. This false 'church,' shall fall."