Aetosion

Whispers intruded on the monk’s sleeping thoughts, laughing, beckoning. He rolled over in his sleep. Strange voices called to him. He couldn’t hear God like this. His breathing quickened, his skin glistened with cold sweat. His eyes snapped open. The air in the room around him was crisp and cool. Bugs shrieked at one another outside. There was still a tension in the room. Something waited, just beyond his vision, but there all the same. Brother Alaric stood, his night-gown dappled by the moonlight flowing through the windows of his quarters in Metz. The night seemed still, peaceful. Perhaps it had been nothing. The monk returned to bed, packed the pipe that sat on his bedside, and soon he was fast asleep.

A scroll stamped with the Everardian seal arrives at the residence of the Lord Mayor of Metz, Seigneur Karl Klargus. The correspondence is read aloud in the dining hall after supper, and a loitering Metzian guest or two hear of its contents. At home, they whisper frantically of what they’d heard to their families. The next evening, the letter’s contents are well-known to the entire capital of Lorraine. “L.M. Klargus, I have just arrived in the lands of Romstun, on clerical mission to the savages of the Horde, though I now fear I have not the stomach for my task. Nowhere else have I seen such depravity, such gross neglect of life and right. I write to you with fear now, as I lay on my bedroll a kilometer from their warcamp, for I heard the soldiers there shout the most insidious of things. Several times I heard them call for the reign of a new sovereign, who titles himself “Emperor Deano”, and even now holds court in his war camp like a monarch. If that isn’t enough, I have seen their men and women too. Both populations seem to have been several years removed from their last encounter with a wash-basin, and the stench of stinking flesh pierced the nostrils from a great distance. Their speech, from what I could make out of it, is guttural and composed of half-sentences grunted out between snorts and the sounds of wide-mouthed breathing. And, from the hoarse screams that punctuated the birds and the crickets of evening, I am quite sure that they even make a habit of laying with dwarves. I long for the tranquility of Metz, its cobbled lanes, its noble manors and manners. I miss my days writing from the bustling portico-lined cafes of the Waterfront district, with the smell of wholesome Kaedreni baking wafting from open windows. I miss my home, for it is most truly a glowing beacon of civilization in a world so far removed from its days of glory. Tonight I pray for strength, and for our lion of a King. I am reassured by his leadership. Weaker men would have shied from such a conflict, would have paid the Horde’s bribe like a Courlander. Not our King, who walks with the assurance of his great ancestors, the Kings of Kaedrin, of the North, of Salvus, of Aeldin, of Renatus, of Savoie, of Raev, and of the Emperors of Oren. As I peer into the distance through the fog that hangs low over the gold-fields, where the Castille d’Vawdre lies, I can almost see him prowling the ramparts with his men. May the Creator watch his steps. May the Lord God rid us of these savages. Hope you are well, -Fr. Alaric Hightower de Montfort, S.S.E., L.S.L."

As a savage horde once again descends upon the faithful, Brother Alaric can be found chanting the Plea to Owyn again throughout the Realm

Brother Alaric's face twists into a quizzical look after reading the treatsie, "Well-written, though it ignores the primacy of the Creator in all things."

Brother Alaric signs his name at the bottom of the scroll, rolls it, and applies the Everardian seal. He bows his head in prayer and mutters something quiet and holy in Flexian, and pushes himself up from his chair, the shaved patch atop his head reflecting candle-light like a halo and his monk’s habit rustling softly with the movement. Other muttering voices can be heard from the dimly-lit near-darkness, and the many-colored vestments of clergymen glitter alongside the gold icons of the Exalted Siegmund and Godfrey that can be made out through the incense smoke pervading the room. Brother Alaric reaches the door and pushes it open, the star-lit night air filling his lungs as he walks into the still courtyard, bringing his letter to the Scriptorium to be copied and posted to the cities and castles of all the great men of the Realm. "To the Nobles and Kings, Never before have I been so disappointed in my brothers, in my fellow sons of Horen. I had read of great betrayals in the chronicles of the Church’s histories. I had seen the same instinct in the women of the South, who fainted at the sight of danger. But I had hoped not to witness it in you Pious Lords. I have been gravely disappointed. His Holiness is deep in prayer as I write from His residence. He worries for his flock, for their lives and for their souls. I wonder what he’s saying to our Creator? Does he ask for mercy upon the craven King Staunton, who huddles in fear in his high tower as the Horde marches towards Metz? Does he beg forgiveness for the cowardly Crow Prince, who picks at his feathers while his brothers in Faith stand as the bulwark against the savagery of the Dunamites alone? What shame is brought to the blood of the Exalted St. Siegmund the Unifier! What of the many Lords Horen? Does His Holiness pray for their salvation too? I do not know. But I know what I pray for. I ask the Lord God to lend ever more of his divine strength to my King Hughes, the Lion-Hearted and High-Minded, who even now walks the walls in preparation for the upcoming siege. I ask the Creator to strengthen the shields of the Teutonic Order, whose stoic Hochmeister knows well the true meaning of loyalty and piety. I plead with our Creator to strengthen the hearts of men, to lead them to fight the just war, and to smite the Horde with the hammer of humanity's united faithful. May none of that savage pack of rats escape alive. Deus Vult. Brother Alaric Hightower de Montfort, S.S.E., L.S.L.”

An ornate script flows across a parchment flyer affixed to a nearby notice board. It flutters slightly in the autumn breeze, and catches your eye. Upon closer inspection, you see that it reads, Hail friend! Are you in need of a real scribe, A man to make your exploits read as if they were a King's? A man to make your words sound less like those of an illiterate half-man? Look no further! Eduard de Alders will author and illuminate any script of fewer than five pages for a mere 1,000 mina! -E.G.A., S.S.E

Brother Alaric frowns as he hears news of the developments," Sounds as if the Great Red Midget-man Empire is playing puppetmaster with the scions of Horen."

The Society of St. Everard Origins Founded by Edward Winter II in the Fourth Age of Kings 1485, and receiving apostolic blessings from the High Pontiff Regulus I the following year, the scholarly Society of St. Everard was intended to be a society of honors for accomplished writers, philosophers, and historians whose scholarship has aided the human realm in continued progress and learning and the preservation of traditional culture and text. In the wake of the fall of the Third and Fourth Empires, much learning was lost from the libraries due to ideologically driven mass book-burnings and royal libraries being looted and falling into disrepair. It was the declared duty of the Everardians to recover all substantive works of scholarly note, to return arts and literature to the libraries and houses of the realm, and to write and patron new works to encourage the continued learning and preservation of traditions in all of humanity. However, upon the fall of the Renatian state and the creation of the Mardonic League, the Everardians refocused their attention on the maintenance of blood, noble patent, and land records in an effort to preserve order and culture within the Heartland realm. Its modern purpose, in an age of similar chaos in this year of 1612 almost a century and a half after its founding, is no different. The Society remains, as it has for many years, dedicated to the preservation of human knowledge, art, literature, and culture, and its promotion, creation, and protection from attempts at perversions of truth and history. ---- Information Although the Society takes its name from the St. Everard, canonized for preserving the traditions and writings of the Church despite intense secular struggle, the Society was created as a lay fraternal order with authority deriving from the de sanguinis rights of the Hibernian crown. Not priests or monks, but independent citizens, the educated members of the Society work to promote learning in the realm, however it may be politically composed. While it has received a papal benediction, blessing it with the patronage of a Saint in its title and works, and is Canonist by constitution, the Society is not oath-bound, nor tied with any worldly organization, nor does it have an established leadership or central location. We simply seek to continue to serve as a society of honors for accomplished men of letters, and an organization for the public good by the continued literary progress of humanity in times of discord and of order. Any are welcome to seek membership, provided that their work serves to inform the greater humanity and is of a respectable quality. ---- Founding Members Edward Winter II, inducted 1485 Paul de Montfort, inducted 1487 Otto Rovin, inducted 1487 Lucius Tython, inducted 1487 Fabian Virosi, inducted 1487 August de Montfort, inducted 1496 ---- Your Participation The Society is interested in expanding our coverage, and ensuring a more consistently updated body of works so that the realm may stay updated and prosper by virtue of information. I, invite any scribes, authors, poets, sages, historians, or any other learned man of note to join the Society and contribute to the educational well-being of the heartland. -Fr. Alaric von August /s/

Ave Oenus, vires plena, Dominus tecum.
 Benedicta tu in imperatoribus, 
et benedictus fabulae factarum tui, Sancte. 
Sanctus Oenus, Defensor Casti, 
ora pro nobis peccatoribus, 
nunc et in hora mortis nostrae. Deus Vult. ☨ Hail Owyn, full of virtue, the Lord is with thee.
 Blessed art thou among emperors, 
and blessed are the legends of your deeds, O' Saint!
 Saint Owyn, Defender of Purity, 
pray for us sinners, 
 now and in the hour of our death. God wills it.

Hearing of the news, Brother Alaric bows his head in thanks to the Creator, grateful for a Pontiff committed to the defense of the Faith. He gave ten whispered Hail Owyns in praise of the spirit of that Exalted Saint which worked through the Pontiff, breathing out a final, "Deus Vult."

Name: Alaric von August Race: Human Service: (Nun, Monk, Priest, Holy Knight, Vicar Bannerman, Charity Worker, other): Priest Why do you wish to assist the Church?: To bring glory to His name, so that it may be spoken in all lands with great reverence.

Brother Alaric is touched by the fervor of the man, and replies with conviction, "Indeed I rejoice that our divine father, Deus Omnipotens, has sanctified Lotharingia so and brought such blessings upon the Vicar of the will of our Lord Creator, and I would be greatly blessed to make pilgrimage to the templum of Sanctus Oenus and pay homage to the Sanctus Pater, but I must then return to my ministry across the kingdoms, for it is to this that I have been called." Brother Alaric continues to chant his devotional, taking his ministry from town to town, sustained by his faith in the power of the Exalted St. Owyn to intercede in the minds of men and God, and is most pleased to see so many Lords answering the Owynian call to Faith and Arms. In thanks to Saint whose spirit he has been glorifying, Brother Alaric now closes each recitation of his devotional with his newly writ "Ave Oenus" litany.

Brother Alaric ceases his chanting at the end of a repetition of his plea to respond to Rosencrantz, "Brother, I have no political aspirations other than the will of our Father, I have taken vows of poverty, chastity, and eternal obedience. I chant nothing but the histories of our saints and an exhortation to the exalted St. Owen to restore their glories. If you doubt any of this, just look to the history of our Church, and to your fathers. For that matter, I think we've all had enough of empire. I think the Lord and all of his children would be happiest with several strong human kingdoms, united against the mongrels in sacred tradition, but free to make war on each other like the lionlike beasts the sons of Horen are- so long as the inferior races aren't involved."

A humble Brother in the Faith travels the human kingdoms, and stands outside the walls of your local church chanting in a reverent voice from an ancient devotional book as the sun begins to set on the horizon. A Plea to the Exalted St. Owyn of Banard Ad spiritō Oenō Banardorum. Suī nomen sanctum est. ☨ O’ Exalted Saint Owyn, tuī nominen laudāmus Your virtue has been the model of many men. In your inspired deeds we find example, Of all greatness which can be accomplished, The long and storied history of Horen’s progeny, Was made possible only by spilling Harrenite blood. And uniting, if not as an empire, as a people. United in faith, united in blood, ūnītī sumus in sanctō. O’ Exalted Saint Owyn, tuī nominen laudāmus Guide us now as you once did the Saint Daniel, That wise and noble king, who lay down his crown, In order to raise humanity ever higher. O’ Exalted Saint Owyn, tuī nominen laudāmus Guide us now as you once did the Exalted St. Godfrey, That ever noble avatar of the Father’s divine will, Who smelt discordant kingdoms to forge the Empire. O’ Exalted Saint Owyn, tuī nominen laudāmus Guide us now as you once did the Saint Thomas, Who expanded your servant Godfrey’s dominion, Through conquest of the lesser races. O’ Exalted Saint Owyn, tuī nominen laudāmus Guide us now as you once did the Saint Peter, Who restored the eternal glory of man united, Onto a land rent by the strife of men divided. O’ Exalted Saint Owyn, tuī nominen laudāmus Guide us now as you once did the Blessed Andrik, Who united the olde princes into the Vydrian League, And made man steel where he was once stone. O’ Exalted Saint Owyn, tuī nominen laudāmus Intercede for us with the King of Kings, Rex Rexorum, And guide us again to realize a brotherhood of men, A bulwark of shields and crowns against the cruel world. Breathe into our kings wisdom befitting their crowns, Pious spirit befitting their race, And high aims befitting their charge. In nomine patris et suī sanctōrum filiōrum oramus Deus Vult. As you pass the church, a traditional stained glass motif of St. Thomas and his victorious band of Kaedrenī crusaders may catch your eye.

"Who the **** is Thomas Aquinas," says the Dan the swineherd.

Vladimir Vladov frowns.

((By my writing the five prophets are all prophets of the same deity, regardless of their personal religious identification. The religion of the Qalasheen recognizes five and the revelations and teachings brought to and delivered from each, the Canonist church recognizes four and the papal laws stemming from its organization.))

The Scroll of the Fifth Prophet The First Surah of Godlessness (1) When our lord God, the one God Almighty who is called Allah in the tongue of the fathers, who is father of Horen, Malin, Krug, and Urguan, who's visited himself upon Owyn, Godfrey, and Peter, visited himself upon the deserts of southern Athera which were called Deus Proditor after his name, where he found a people divided by lust for power and greed.¹ And so it was that our Lord, the Lord of Lords called Allah, sent upon the warring tribes the Krugite slavers, who took took the people of Qalas and committed them to chains, and forced them to toil in the desert breaking stone for great walls.² It was in this manner that they toiled for many years, in atonement for their sins against the One God, who is called Allah.³ It was then that a learned man, who was called Faiz Kharadeen, wondered to his Lord Allah why his people toiled thusly under the cruel Krugites.⁴ And the Lord Allah gave no answer, for Kharadeen did not know of his Lord that was called Allah.⁵ And it was only at the end of a long day of work under the Krugites that the man lay upon the ground which was bare of straw, and recalled the tales of our Creator, who his father had called Allah.⁶ And it was that evening that Kharadeen went to the watering hole and prostrated himself upon the earth and asked of the Creator who is called Allah for forgiveness for not remembering him, and took our Lord Allah as his Lord, and asked him, "Allah who is the one and only God, who created this world and all others and those which reside upon it, hear my plea for the Qalash, that we may be rid of our oppressors, reclaim our land, and may make praise to your goodly name."⁷ The First Surah of Gazardiael (2) And the Lord of Lords, Our God, Caliph of the Caliph, Voice Which Speaks to Prophets, heard this and thought it right, and sent an Aengul who is called Gazardiael down upon Kharadeen and spoke through him, saying, "Child, you alone among your kin remember my name. Go to your Elders and remind them of me, and have them supplicate towards me, and I shall shine upon them.¹ And go take up your father's sword, which he took with him to his burial, and bring it back to this place." ² And so Kharadeen went to the tomb of his father and withdrew his sword in its scabbard and came back within a fortnight, and took it to the place where the water flowed, and invoked the name of Allah, whose Aengul returned to him and Allah spoke through him again, "Gather your people and teach them of me, and light a fire in their hearts for your cause, and march upon the Krugites in the cover of night chanting my litanies, and when you come upon them draw your father's blade in my name.³ If you do this you will be victorious, and the blood you spill will turn the sand red and soak into the sand and will become water in the earth, and if you settle upon the field your kin can dig for water below the sand and will find it in plenty.⁴" Kharadeen accepted these most merciful and glorious words of our creator, the one God who is called Allah, and gave votive offering of a young lamb in thanks.⁵ Upon the happening of the battle, the Qalash were victorious with the blessings of the Lord Almighty who is called Allah, and they were not forgetful of him.⁶ Only one Krugite was spared, for he obeyed the orders of Kharadeen at his death and praised the greatness of Allah, and the Krugite was spared, for Allah is merciful.⁷ The Second Surah of Godlessness (3) Over the next year, the Qalash built a temple to our Creator on the spot where the first Krugite fell, and in their haste a labourer split a stone in the temple's courtyard with a tool, and water gushed forth from it, and this showed Allah's favor.¹ A decade followed, and the Qalash began to fight one another again, and they did not was themselves, and they fornicated freely, and their women showed their breasts to the sun, and Allah saw this and was angered upon them and the font in the temple ceased to flow.² And Kharadeen saw this and was afraid, and supplicated to his father's Creator who is called Allah and asked of him, "Oh Allah, who is great and merciful, my people have mistreated your favor, what must we do to make good in your eyes?³" The First Surah of Xan (4) And so Allah, who is merciful, sent down his Aengul Xan and spoke through him to Kharadeen, "Oh Qalash," Allah's Aengul said, "Upon whom Our Creator smiled the sun's smile, why do you forsake him?¹" And Kharadeen, who himself had been forgetful, prostrated himself and professed his love for his God, the One God, who is Allah, and the Allah replied through the Aengul, "If you wish to repent in my eyes you must follow my commandments.² Bathe and wash daily, and not in the water of another;³ Do not eat impure meats that are not ritually slaughtered, and do not eat the unclean swine;⁴ Do not fornicate with another man's wife, and do not deflower a virgin;⁵ If a woman should marry and her maidenhead is not intact, or a man should not have his hood removed, he or she should be buried up to their head in the desert for my justice;⁶ If a man should steal from another, cut off the offending hand;⁷ If a soldier should abandon his cause in battle, slay him where he stands, and thusly for all crimes;⁸ Bear not witness to false idols, and give your full worship upon me;⁹ Bear no injury upon your tribesmen or their kin, and do not lust for what another man has;¹⁰ Worship your mother above all other men, for she endured to bring you into this world;¹¹ Keep my temples clean, and track no dust from the streets into their walls;¹² Make supplication towards the font which has sprung from my love, at wake, noon, and eventide;¹³ Take into your heart that there is no god except one, and he is called Allah, and all who worship Him and obey his dictates are equal in His eyes;¹⁴ Take no comfort in the fermented grape or barley neither, for these tempt your heart from me.¹⁵ If you and your people do these things to be clean in my eyes, you will have my favor eternal.”¹⁶ The First Surah of Taharaie (5) And so Kharadeen did these things, and there was water from the font and food aplenty, but still there was discord among the tribes, and so Kharadeen supplicated to Allah and said these things, and so the One God which we call Allah sent upon the Qalash an Aengul called Taharaie, and spoke through him and said, “Take the sword with which you smote the Krugites, and bring it to your most accomplished smith, and have him fashion it into a crown for your head. Then your people will take you as their leader and there will be one tribe in the eyes of the One God. And Kharadeen did this, and there was unity, and the Qalasheen were prosperous, and their settlement grew larger and was named Khalestine, and the temples were kept, and water flowed from the Font of the Merciful. The First Surah of the Yeu Rthulu (6) It was in Kharadeen’s second summer in the sun of our Lord that the one called Allah visited him again and spoke through the Aengul that was called Yeu Rthulu. The people of Khalestine had drawn and quartered a Krugite for laying a hand on a Horen’s-child. The Aengul spoke to Kharadeen who scribed the words thusly, “Do not be foolish, son of Allah, for Allah is fair and created all races equally in his image. When the races forsook Him he let upon them the fallen daemon Shaitan, who cursed each race as they had offended the creator, who is called Allah, not so that one race would be superior to another, but so that each would serve as a reminder to their fellow to remember the commandments of Allah, for Allah is just and Allah is wise. Do not then judge your fellow mortal inferior, for all are equally inferior in the all-seeing eyes of the One God who is called Allah. The Second Surah of Yeu Rthulu (7) It was in this same season that a woman was strung up in a nearby village for adultery, and the Aengul who is called Yeu Rthulu returned and Allah spoke through her to the Caliph, who copied her words thusly, “Do not be foolish, son of Allah, for Allah is fair and created both sexes fairly. He created the first woman to bear the seed, and man to plant it, and taught the first woman to bleed, and the man to draw blood in her defense, for Allah is supremely intelligent. Do not punish one sex when the crime is shared equally, if the woman is strung up for her crime, let the man who is complicit be punished in this same manner, for Allah is just.” The First Surah of Eshtael (8) It was many years later in the golden days of the city that Kharadeen, who took the title of Caliph and did not forget Allah and kept his commandments, was visited by a third Aengul who was called Eshtael, and Allah spoke through him, “Child of the most Merciful God, who is the only God, and is called Allah, in the days to come there will be strife, and you will leave behind your possessions, and take your peoples around you, and make journey to the favored land in the name of Allah. And this land will flow richly with waters and be lush and fertile amidst the sands, and you will call this place Ullastine in memory of our Lord of Lords, who is called Allah. Here the scripture is cut short, the lesser half of the scroll seems to have been torn away.

I've always been a strong supporter of PVP default. It simplifies things and lets people get on with their RP lives without having magic lampposts thrown at them with telekinesis and defending themselves against swords with some random shovel they have in their inventory.

A very sad swine farmer named Dan cries, "Ashfords killed Vydra."

High Elven conspiracy.

"How does one disgrace the House Staunton?" wonders Vladimir upon reading the notice.

A flyer is visible in major trade hubs around Vailor, "To whom it may concern, I, Edward H., am in need of a stately, yet defensible, castle of small to medium size to be built in my land. I will compensate the architect in minas or iron depending on preference. I need this project completed within the coming Saint's week. Provide examples of your past work in your response, and send bird to me by care of my aide."

I didn't even pay attention to the monk thing, but immediate, direct, and resolving responses to playerbase feedback is always a good thing, so props Will.

Lucius manages to find his way out of the brothel carnal church for long enough to hear the announcement, and hands a letter to his aide