O SORROW

[Vilebranch 410]

The Gear turns before the Cross, as Blood litters the broken Earth.

 

---

 

Spoiler

 

SORROW. Sorrow fills my heart agh soul as I write to you, my beloved. For no deeper a wound has been etched upon the earth than the murder ob our beloved Bernard II. His words in those final moments fill my head agh leave me begging for the LORD’s compassion. But it does not come. We ob the True Faith have been delivered the starkest ob betrayals, ob which I cannot say there is one man upon this earth who can forgive. My brothers ob the clergy write ob order agh unity, but yet the High Priest’s blood stains my hands agh my cassock. The sin ob KIN-SLAYING is unforgivable in the eyes ob GOD, thus as it was in the time ob HOREN’s murder. The Emperor ob Mankind has slain his Holy Father, and commanded he be replaced by some unworthy scraper. Am I to remind the faithful, that it was the Church which removed the Alstion bloodline from their royal claims under the sin ob KIN-SLAYING?

 

Ob course, our Holy Church is not near as powerful as it was in those days. It has become weak agh effeminate. And those placed into power by its stewardship have turned their daggers upon it. But GOD remains unchanged from those days, agh from the first days. He has no compassion for the self-idolater nor the KIN-SLAYER. It would be VIRTUOUS agh JUST to see that foul despot hanged from a tall elm, his face a royal purple as he kicks his legs beneath him as if dancing a Waltz ob death. But yet, I fear few among those who speak GOD’s name would share such a similar sentiment. The Empire, whose seed was planted by the blessed Leviticus I, has come to be infested with howling pups and treacherous crows. It is as if I am witnessing a nation ob spirit-possessed madmen, the souls ob their cruel forefathers come to roost in fresh bodies.

Father FEAR-GAWD clutches the lifeless corpse of Pontiff Bernard II.

 

When the High Pontiff died, it seemed as though a piece ob me died as well. No matter what I do, it seems as though I cannot cleanse his blood from my skin. Nor can I absolve the guilt ob failing my promise to him; to be martyred far before I allowed a blade to pierce his skin. Now I breathe, and he does not. So to atone, I shall share his final words to the faithful, that none may ignore the curse placed upon that House ob Burgundy:

“May the LORD GOD save us all! Though I’ve no pity for you. With my dying blood, I curse ye all. And your lineage. Accursed it shall be until the end of days; and you shall know naught but ash and soot in your mouth when the end comes. Misery upon your lineage and your house. They whom have breached the covenant they swore to uphold. May the ingratitude you have shown to those whom lifted you up be delivered back to you a hundredfold! With my life’s blood, I curse you, ANATHEMA. And your line. It shall not stand the test of time. For Oran always fails, sooner or later. When the MANDATE of HEAVEN is lost!”

It is said that in a pious man’s final moments, he is offered a glimpse ob the sublime. Were I to see the Seven Skies agh then look down to see Hadrian’s pock-marked face, no words could truly express my dissatisfaction and indignation. The blood ob Burgundy carries no greater a sin than Bernard’s BLOOD-CURSE, which shall burden them even as they drift in the torturous Void. It would be merciful that they tear out their own bloody throats, such as not to bring misfortune agh woe upon their subjects. To those who shall surely say that I dishonor my position with my harsh words, I say grow a spine. Be something other than a shriveling worm, trampled down by the Deceiver’s foot.

To the truly faithful, I offer you this; your day is not yet over. Evil may have triumphed, but that does not change the nature ob Virtue. Nor ob Truth. These things which our LORD GOD has filled within us, these things are the true LIGHT ob the World. Pray, fast, and offer veneration. Hold to the Truth, even when Kings do not. Agh keep the Brotherhood, that when the day comes when the tyrant is driven out from the palace, there will be those who will know to administer penance. My beloved, you shall find me by the footpaths and the brushes. For our home is lost. Woe unto the Empire ob Mankind. We have but the loving embrace ob our LORD to keep us company, now…
 

The Pontiff is dead, may there not be another 'till such day that vengeance is delivered.
In the words ob venerable Bernard II, 'Do as your conscience would bid.'
GOD bless and keep you all.
SEDE VACANTE INDEFINITUM.

Father FEAR-GAWD,
KHLAAR-KOR

[KidKrinkles 2044]

"Did'a Orc write t'is?"

 

Victor said as he read the interfaith essay-war: solid entertainment for the man as he skirted the underbrush of the Azuran highways.

 

"Holy shite 'n Orc wrote t'is. Vereh' cool."

[indiana105 5126]

“Go back to Krugmar” said a human man. 

[Werew0lf 24181]

"Everyone saw him commit suicide; I would have enjoyed boasting about being Bernard's murderer, though," Hadrian drawled.

[Vilebranch 410]

7 minutes ago, Werew0lf said:

"Everyone saw him commit suicide; I would have enjoyed boasting about being Bernard's murderer, though," Hadrian drawled.

Father FEAR-GAWD looks at a wall with the bug-eyed stare of a blind man, while screaming; "HOLY HOLY HOLY IZ DA LORD OB HOZTZ!!!!!"