Xarkly

Pagan he may have been, Friar Villorik offered the King's soul a prayer so that the Lord God might guide him to the First Sky.

Despite his best efforts, Villorik found himself humming the bloodthirsty tune throughout the weeks before battle.

Friar Villorik held little love for the Haeseni royals and their schemes, from the sinful adultery of Marius Audemar, to King Georg, who had put diplomats to the sword. The White Flame, however, was an exception. He would forever be glad to raise his blade for her.

"Let the end begin," vowed Villorik.

The sun broke through the grey pall around midday. Friar Villorik sat atop his destrier as it wound through the grasslands north of Hippo's Gorge. Behind him, the axels and wood of the wagon being pulled by the destrier creaked under the weight of Haeseni dead, with their gold-black cloaks wrapped around their lifeless forms as shrouds. Despite that, Villorik felt at ease. Their deaths had been far from in vain.

Friar Villorik sat unblinking at his campfire, and stared into the burning kindling. As he grew older and wiser, he felt he understood the will of God's Light less and less. These last weeks, he had found himself in a mental mire as he tried to puzzle out whether the carnage unfolding upon the world was an upset wrought by the Shadow, or the will of the Light as some kind of test. He had since decided it did not matter. Whether Covenant or Alliance, there were but two paths forward. The Void, and the Skies. The Queen of Numendil's proclamation only served to affirm which path Villorik would trod.

IN THE NAME OF THE QUEEN The hooves of Villorik’s mare crunched against the frosted earth. The wind stirred the warpriest’s greying, raven locks as he trot down the Heartlands road. He had long since left behind him the ruined pearly stones of Breakwater, the gaping craters of Brasca, and the trodden expanse of Westmark the night before. Now, as the spring sun peeked its head over the tree-lined horizon and cast long, golden shadows across the land, he entered the borders of Veletz proper. He gave his mare’s neck an idle path as he kept his narrowed eyes fixed on the road ahead. His grey-black cloak shifted in the wind whenever it gusted, and, as the sun’s golden rays grew longer and brighter, the light flashed against the hilt of his platemail, his the daemonsteel sabre belted to his waist, and the silverworked Hussariyan cross around his neck. He passed a few serfs about their morning work,who eyed him with scepticism from afar as they tried to discern whether he was a lone raider, but he passed them without a second glance. By the time the sun had reared its head in full, he came to the first hamlet some hours south of Brasca. When they noticed the mailed horseman, the roughspun-clad serfs gripped their pitchworks, hoes, and hammers as they huddled together near the hamlet’s well, and wives ushered their children inside in frantic voices as the men stared Villorik down. The Friar brought his mare to heel some thirty feet for them, and for a moment he only watched their grim-set faces. Finally, he reached to his waist, but it was not his sword he drew. “I require a message delivered,” he said calmly, and the sun sparkled on the mina in Villorik’s hand. By midday, that message reached Winhburg. _____________________ “You who are taken by the Shadow, I am the Friar Villorik. I come in the name of Amaya of Venzia, Queen of Haense, White Flame of Valdev. I come alone. Send unto the field a son of Horen to duel in your name, and the Light shall favour the righteous victor. I will come at the tolling of the Terces bell tomorrow.”

"The Holy Light takes many forms, it seems," Friar Villorik mumbled. Whatever form it took, the Lord's will would be done.

Light favour you, I know not which archives you have studied, nor through which experiences you have lived, but I am pleased to recognise that we are of a similar mind, Davide of Furnestock. For indeed, as you observe, the might of the Church was once so that it could quake and mould the mortal plane as God willed, from times long ago when Exalted Owyn marshalled faithful militants on Edel as Father Petyr notes, to the recent Imperial annals that you yourself cite. As for how this great power came to be squandered, I similarly concur. Perhaps it is simply that, in a world beset by constant change, the Church simply fell behind. Admittedly, I do wonder if this event was determined by the Holy Light, as the essence of all things and threads of all fate, or whether we have failed God in some way by allowing His Church to falter. The answer is yet obscure to me. In any case, while we are like-minded on many matters, my views differ in some aspects. As for the Church’s traditional role in promoting the unity of mankind, I am not convinced that therein lies a solution to the powerlessness of the present-day Church. While an Emperor sympathetic to the Church may indeed enable the Vicar of God to achieve many of their goals, this power - in the modern day, at least - would still ultimately be borrowed, and contingent on that Emperor’s sympathy and piety. And, as you will no doubt note from your study, there have existed a great many Emperors who fell prey to the Shadow. I sense you may agree that, in this hypothetical Empire, the influence of the Church would remain sufficiently negligent so as to allow the Emperor to ignore the Church when convenient. In fact, I opine that mankind united may well enable the further degradation of the Church. Though you may protest upon reading this, stay your rebuke a moment as I explain. The power the Church yields on the world stage today is fitful, and derived nearly entirely from leverage. By virtue of the fact that Haense and Veletz feuds, the Church divines some influence as these rivals will seek to levy religious support against the other. This is, of course, a most improper source of power and a testament to the clerical weakness of which I write, but I cannot deny that it forms part of the Church’s relevancy in the eyes of scheming Kings. It is, ultimately, accountability of which I write. An overlord who can freely ignore the Vicar of God in theory may face no accountability from his subordinate vassals and nationalist subjects. There is some degree of accountability to the Church between feuding states, but it is only incidental on the whims of the sovereigns. Consider those excommunications of which you have written - though their practical impact was mute, it no doubt forms a rallying cry for those who opposed them, a wayward assurance that their cause is true and just. The ambitions of Philip III and Anastasia I met an ill-fate at the Battle of Eastfleet; Heinrik Sarkozic’s beloved Adria became a footnote of what is now crumbling Veletz; and Gaspard van Aert has provoked a devastating war -- perhaps some will of God was indeed invoked, even if the Church neglected to establish itself in the aftermaths of these events. This is, once again, noting the inconvenient truth that the Church could have done nothing if any of those factions it allied with at the time had erred from the Light, for only by their political machinations could the Anathema be punished in the first place. Now that we have spoken of the crux of my theses, let us turn to the only other matter on which we are not entirely aligned. You view the Church’s role as that of mediator who would bring disputes to a peaceful resolution before the baring of steel. I am not so inclined towards the necessity of peace -- wars, both just and unholy, have characterised our entire history, and I am stalwart in my belief that the will of the Light must often be achieved through force. There is, of course, nothing wrong with peace, but only if properly attained. A peace that does not reprimand those fallen to the Shadow is no true peace - look at the Petran civil war, for instance; a conflict sparked due to the infidelity of a woman who only recently claimed the title of a Queen of Canondom. The Church’s intervention to resolve this dispute, and excuse the sins of Renilde I and Marius Audemar, would have achieved no true peace, as the mark of the Shadow would not have been cleansed. No, the Church should not just be a mediator who can be freely ignored on political whims -- it should be a judge. An overseer of the mortal planes and vindicators of the Light, who brook no transgressions by human Kings and Queens and who purge the Shadow in whatever for may take; for, as I have written, the Holy Light is a torch that must illuminate those who can be saved, and burn away those who cannot. Without a return to the power of yore, this will never be achieved and the Church will remain forced to barter for what little influence nations will yield. We must rebuild ourselves, and no longer rely on fickle crowns. May you ever elude the Shadow, Friar Villorik

Father Petyr, Though you claim our views differ, I am obliged for your reply nonetheless; for it is only through discourse that we might progress. I must firstly state that I think your core disagreement stems from a grievous and hasty misinterpretation of my meditations - namely, that I forsake the analysis of the Scrolls. Indeed, this is far from my contemplation. That you cite the works of the most holy Exalted Owyn and his restoration of the Idunian realm is the very core of my interpretation of the Holy Light and God's plan -- the need for militant believers to restore what has fallen to sin. What you mistake for a sweeping condemnation of all Canonist history is, in reality, a commentary on the pacifism of the Church in recent decades when it has lacked such spirit as was displayed by Exalted Owyn in the restoration of the Holy Light when the Shadow has grown heavy. We are, by all accounts, saying much the same thing, it seems. As with any institution whom assume the responsibility of teaching and enforcing order, there must be two pillars; that of the teacher itself, who espouses the principles and tenets by which faithful men must live; and that of the enforcer, who rectifies the transgressions of those who wilfully eschew those teachings. As I have written, the former is the Holy Light's illumination, and the later is its burn. One, I have come to surmise, cannot exist without the other, lest those taken by the Shadow deny the teaching with utmost impunity. As these great men you cite once did, so must we aspire to follow in their footsteps so that the Shadow will be forever denied. For those who do not return God's love must live in fear, or never shall the Shadow be dispelled. - Friar Villorik.

Meditations on Faith - Vol. 1: A Powerless Church SANCTUS LUX IN TE; I am ordained Friar Villorik, a warpriest of the Holy Mother Church. I write this from within my lodgings in the Covenant war camp as the campaign against the League of Veletz continues. I took up arms in the name of the Vicar of God in order to expunge the Anathema from the Heartlands, but this is not why I write; in the long months of marching and battle, I have had a great deal of time to meditate upon the meaning of the Canonist faith, and the Church of the Canon. When I studied the Scrolls prior to my ordainment by the late Father Tonito - may God keep his soul - I was sure in my faith, and my understanding of the Holy Light. Yet, I know now that this understanding was born purely from academia and study of the written word - in other words, naivety. First-hand experience of the world brings with it a far greater understanding of the fellow inhabitants of this realm, be they pious or pagan. Thus, I have committed to the recording of these meditations in the hope of kindling progress within the Church. This first volume shall opine on the nature of the Church’s power as an institution. "God promises refuge from suffering in all times, that the sons of His Sons should never bow before Iblees again." - Scroll of Gospel, Book of Silence ___________________ Let us begin with this question - what is the Canonist Church? This is a question with many answers. It is foremostly a teacher, responsible for the performance of the holy sacraments and spiritual needs of the Canonist Realms. The Church represents order, and teaches the tenets of Canon law enshrined in the Holy Scrolls -- we must then contemplate what the Church’s role becomes when these teachings are spurned, and therein lies the focus of this meditation. The Church lacks independent power with which to enforce its teachings and punish transgressions. This is not to say that the Church lacks any power, but it is a conditional power derived from nations for whom it is convenient. This present war between the Grand Covenant and the League of Veletz makes for a fitting example - in excommunicating the government of Veletz, the Church has firmly aligned itself with the cause of the Covenant. While this cause is righteous, it cannot be denied that the religious aspects of this conflict - namely, the sins of Veletz in the form of sacrilege and consorting with light-spurned Darkspawn - are secondary to the political goals of many, though not all, of the Covenant nations. Therefore, in exacting penance from Veletz for their transgressions against the faith, the Church must rely on the political objectives of the other Canonist Princes. I have come to accept that we, as the mortal swords of God, would have no means to vanquish our foe were it politically inconvenient to the majority of the Canonist Realms. Likewise, if the Covenant sovereigns were to now sin unapologetically, the Church is practically powerless to act upon it. For while the goals of the Covenant enable us to strike down the sinners in Veletz, there would be no such aid to banish any shadow that befalls the Covenant itself, for they alone form the Church’s ability to act. The quandary is this clear - the Church is without any power of its own, and its mission on this mortal plane is hindered. We, the very agents of God, are forced to barter and compromise in order to achieve one objective while sacrificing others. Our mission is only attainable insofar as it aligns with the machinations of mortal kings, and true commitment to fulfilling the will of God and His Skies would leave the pious few standing alone. This is the truth as I have come to understand it, both from study of the Scrolls, and seeing the Holy Light shine upon the land. The Church is, in truth, powerless. "And verily we are all commanded into the service of the Lord, and into service of others, be we physician, craftsman, or king." - Scroll of Spirit, Epistle to the Magi ___________________ Can the Church escape this mire? It can, for the fundamental aspect of all power is the same. As it is, the Canonist clergy are learned men and women committed to the teachings of God by way of passive preaching. Yet, in times of war, the clang of steel so easily drowns out the wisdom of the Scrolls -- for when the Deceiver pulls his strings upon the souls of those who have fallen to his shadow and commits them to sin, preaching, sermons, and sacraments can do little to oppose them. If we are the torches of the Holy Light, then we must illuminate - we must cast away the shadow of sin and ignorance through our teachings. Yet some shadows lie so thick that they cannot be merely illuminated -- they must be burned. As of now, and as of many decades past, the torch of the Holy Light has dimmed so as to only illuminate, and those most detestable shadows cannot be burned away. The Church has hosted many militant sects over time, from the warriors of Saint Jude to the darkslayers of Owyn, yet we are without a steadfast armed force dedicated wholly to the role of faithful jurors - without competing national loyalties, nor material ambitions. This task is not completed overnight, but over decades. But, with perseverance and commitment to our role as not only God’s shepherds, but warriors, it is wholly possible for the Church to gain true and unfettered power with which to accomplish our most holy mission. In these times where the Shadow lies long across the land, it is not enough for the Holy Light to shine. It must burn. "Thus Owyn raises the sword of flame. And lo! the light of God is redeeming, and wicked reject it. Iblees and his servants are destroyed forever. The world is become paradise." - Scroll of Auspice, Vision of Strife

"Like a human politician wearing Orcish skin," the grim-witted Friar observed dryly. He kept his sword buckled, and hoped there would be a call for battle.

[!] A letter is sent by messenger pigeon to the author. The hand is plain and jagged, but concise. "May God bless you. I am Friar Villorik, a warpriest who partaking in the conquest of Veletz on command of the Vicar of God. I have further undertaken the duty to expunge the taint of the Deceiver from the lost souls of Veletz. I duly pray that the Deceiver's taint has not grown so heavy as to obscure the cause of this war from your mind. If this is, however, the case, then heed me so: the League of Veletz forsook piety and morality when they conspired with the brigands of Stassion to murder King Edmund of Aaun, who was a stalwart ally of Veletz at the time. The League of Veletz forsook honour and integrity when they tried to force the Commonwealth of the Petra's diplomatic affairs, and sent assassins to murder the girl-queen Catherine when she resisted their vice. The League of Veletz forsook peace and dignity when they kidnapped a Princess of Balian without provocation, and attacked the Haeseni capital after they escorted the Pontiff to Veletz to negotiate her release. The Grand Covenant has undertaken this war to destroy a tyrannical state before it can wreak further havoc. Your children can flee to peace. The lands of Canondom will, adherent to their standing faith, welcome all refugees fleeing the war. There is nothing keeping you in Veletz but the blindness cast upon you by the Deceiver, and it is for you alone to shirk this and return to the light. That there is nowhere for you to go is a lie. You need not to fall. There is naught that compels you to defend the lands rightfully besieged in response to the tyranny of Veletz but pride wrought by the Deceiver. If it is true that you wish to protect your children, as any mother should, then you should flee your home without question and seek sanctuary in the lands of the Covenant. You endanger yourself, your children, and your home by fighting for the Anathema. That you are destined to leave your children orphaned is a lie. The Captain General is Anathema. That he offered you hearth and home does not undo this truth, as any warmongerer would gather allies. That you vouch for their warmth while simultaneously ignoring the grievous offences committed unto the nations of the Covenant is surely a mark of the Deceiver's spell upon you, which you must resist. That these are good and godly people is a lie. If you wish to live, fair lady, then live - abscond the lands of Veletz for their crimes innumerable. None seek the blood of you nor your children, for your only crime is succumbing to tyranny. Leave, and all will be saved, and the land may well be suitable to be returned to once the shadow that lies heavy upon it is expunged. If you stay, lady, then know it is out of pride. It is out of ignorance. It is out of evil. If you stay, and if you fall, the fault will be purely your own, but none will bar your refuge. If your children fall, the fault will be purely your own. Seek me out and partake in the sacrament of confession, so that you and your children might be saved. May God save you."

"Another exiled and anathema boy, fallen to the Deceiver," Friar Villorik sighed. He watched the morning's pale light gleam on his Ruskan sabre, and the words of the Scroll of Virtue inscribed on the steel. "Another one to be cured of greed and malice."

That night on the march through Veletz, Friar Villorik prayed for Tonito -- the man that had ordained him, and finally helped him realize his promise to Sixtus V.

"Lady de Vilain, May God bless and illuminate you. I am Friar Villorik, a warpriest of the Holy Mother Church who has taken up arms at the command of the Vicar of God to expunge the anathema. Though our kin may cross in battle, we need not be enemies of spirit, for circumstance draws our blades more often our own hands in life. All the same, God would not forgive me if no effort was made to enlighten you on the Deceiver's touch on this war. We can look into the depths of history at this conflict, but in truth there is no need - the recent past is amply illustrative. It is undeniable that Veletz did once stand for progress; it stood for a united heartlands, capable and strong, who wielded the respect and influence of Aaun, Petra, and Numendil. With deft diplomacy, the Canonist League was dismantled, and thousands of troops would draw steel in the name of your Captain General. With this might, the realms of Balian, Urguan, and Haense would have been felled. Why did this not transpire? The Heartland Accord is not gone. It stands against you wholeheartedly with greater resolve than ever Haense nor Balian had mustered. This was not the doing of your enemies, but your own. You lost Petra when you held Queen Renilde captive and forced her to sign a treaty she had no wish to. Much worse, when the child Queen Catherine likewise refused, you sicced mercenaries to slay this young child. Is this your progress? You lost Numendil when you played host to Darkspawn within your halls, and unapologetically set churches ablaze in retaliation for Petra wishing to conduct their own diplomacy free from your vice. Is this your progress? You lost Aaun, your greatest and truest ally who, despite having warred against you in the past, stood at your side unfaltering in recent decades. And yet Veletz partook in murder of the Aaunish King, and the army of Veletz was smashed in the streets of Whitespire when they came to protect King Edmund's murderers. Is this your progress? The world you preach for is one of tyranny and fear, in which any who fail to abide by your whims are subject to murder. God weeps at your evil, or your delusion, as do all mankind. For it is not Haense nor Balian that was poisoned your allies. It is not they who have defeated you in battle. It is not they who have led us to where we now stand. It is yourself. You have betrayed and murdered your own allies. Your progress is tyranny. Your progress is nothing. The beacons you would light now have been burned to cinders long ago. Repent, Lady de Vilain; seek me out and partake in the sacrament of confession, and you might yet be saved. - Friar Villorik."

Father Villorik prayed before God for the Stassion blood that was about to be spilled.

"Perhaps the good King should attend mass," Friar Villorik hummed, "there is no greater way to vent one's vexations than the sacrament of confession."

"The good Queen should attend mass," Friar Villorik hummed. "There is no better way to vent one's vexation than the sacrament of confession."

If AH is re-implemented in any capacity, it should only be for standard resources and should not facilitate the trading of any RP-signed items (like Drakehaze suggests).

"My kin bled for her to slay the Archduke, and they bled to save her from bandits," Villorik sneered within the Basilica. He bowed his head in prayer before the altar, but his lips did not move.

After Vespers prayers, Villorik spared a moment to eye the latest Stassion declaration. When he saw it was still not a declaration of war, he gave it not a moment longer.

BALLAD OF THE BALLS Across the Petra and o’er the snows Did the good lord Stassion ride With his men in tow with spears and bows He sought a bear to sate his pride Ride they did to embered woods Seeking a bear crowned and grand Sweet and fat on falsehoods Throughout the trees they fanned Before the night had darkened The bear they did find denned To their lord the men were harkened And to their hunt did they tend “Afore we approach the bear, prepared must we be,” said lord Stassion as they hid ‘neath a tree “Young Louis; this part falls to thee; You must smother thyself in wild honey.” “Will this not enrage the bear?” Young Louis asked in fear “Be not afraid, and ensure you do not err;” dismissed lord Stassion with a sneer. At his liege’s word, young Louis set forth Dressed in honey and fragrances sweet He knew well why he had come north Then the bear turned, and showed to him his teeth “My lord!” Louis did call back. “I think it poised to bite!” “Have no fear; press the attack! Your lord stands ready to fight!” His lord steeled his will and so Louis did strike to taunt His mistake was marked by a spinal chill And his vigor gave way to daunt The bear moved in a bloody flash And mail rent ‘neath golden claws Across the snow did crimson splash and lord Stassion was given pause “My lord, he is dead!” came the hunters’ cry, “For his vengeance, we will smite it with glee!” “Alas, what woe,” did Lord Stassion lie, “I think it better if we flee!” “How can this be? How could this pass?” did Lord Stassion ask as they fled “My plan was flawless, but it shattered like glass! For this crime, I swear: I shall take the bear’s head!” Upon his return, lord Stassion sought out his king “My liege,” he begged, “we must do something!” Next to King Edmund’s frown, there seemed nothing blunter “Perhaps, Lord Stassion, you are just a bad hunter.”

"They ought to be cautious," Villorik mumbled under his breath as he rode astride Queen Amaya, escorting her home from Numendil. "If word spreads that they offer land to anyone who will get themselves killed like a fool, soon they will not have a blade of grass to spare."

Villorik waited patiently in the chapel. The exchange of words had long since grown tiring. When the heretics were ready to bite, this blade of Godan would stand ready.