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Emergency Regency of Ciavola 5th of the Grand Harvest,97 S.A Baron Björn Ragnarrsson Mösu, Baron of Ciavola, has disappeared without a trace. He vanished in the night, having seemingly left without taking anything with him, and after more than a week of silence from him, he shows no sign of returning. The government of Ciavola and the Baron’s own family are at a loss for this unexplained disappearance. Rumors fly around Ciavola - that the Baron is hiding from the King of Balian, or that he has left Almaris itself in search of some secret known only to him, or simply that he has decided to take a very long, and decidedly unscheduled, vacation. Regardless of the reasons for his vacancy, however, one fact remains clear: someone must take up his roles and duties until he is found or returns. In the days following the Baron’s disappearance, few Mösus showed any interest in taking up the role of regent, nor even did any Aesirs of Ciavola. It was into this sluggish confusion that Baron Björn’s oldest sibling and sister, Freyja Ragnarssdottir Mösu, stepped into the public eye. She took up the role swiftly and decisively, so as to ensure that her rise to the role of regent would not be challenged. Her claim met with the approval of Ciavola and of the King of Balian himself, and she was granted peerage by King John. Baroness-Regent Freyja Mösu shall hold all the powers and duties normally held by the Baron of Ciavola and shall be held to the same standards by the Council of Aesirs. She shall rule until Björn either is found dead, whereupon a new Baron shall be chosen by the customs of Ciavola, or until he returns from whence he came and resumes his rule as Baron. So it is that Baroness-Regent Freyja Mösu will guide the Barony forward into the future with a strong hand for as long as Ciavola needs her.

The Death & Disowning of Kol Ragnarsson Mösu 4th of the Grand Harvest, 95 S.A Today, on the 4th of the Grand Harvest, a sudden revelation has come upon the House of Mösu: Kol Ragnarrsson Mösu has acted against his own blood in the unrightful and purposeful slander of his brother, Baron Björn. It was also discovered from a salt test during this disgraceful action that Kol Ragnarrson Mösu is a Darkspawn. Kol Ragnarrsson Mösu acted against GOD and was indoctrinated into the hordes of Iblees by becoming a vampire. It was clear what had to be done. Kol Ragnarrsson Mösu was to be disowned by the House of Mösu. Patriarch Björn Mösu formally disowned his brother in the Hanseti Gardens. The Baron later challenged Kol Mösu to an honor duel to clear his name from the slander and to dispatch of the Darkspawn that was his brother. The duel was set to occur in the ruins of Myrine, former capital of the defunct Duchy of Redclyf-Rozania. Various spectators gathered among the ruins that had been long abandoned, now bustling with those who had abandoned it. After a prolonged duel between the two, the victor was clear. Björn, Baron of Ciavola, stood victorious against the agent of Iblees, puncturing Kol’s heart with an aurum spear, which left his twisted body and soul lifeless on the ground. It is hereby decreed that Kol Ragnarrson Mösu is disowned by the House of Mösu. If he returns by means of necromancy or other forms of heresy, then he shall be put to death via the destruction of his heart, followed by a swift cremation. Kol Ragnarrsson Mösu holds no claims to any titles, estate or money for which he was previously in line to inherit, in accordance with the disownment. _________________________________________________________________________ Signed, Baron of Ciavola, Head of House Mösu, CEO of The Mösu Corporation & Protector of Almar, Elder of House Mösu,

THE LAST GOODBYE FINDING RESOLVE AND RESOLUTION This is written from the perspective of someone broken by emotion and escaping into their own mind to find solace in face of the reality of the world. It might be triggering to some audiences and elicit emotion in those who have gone through a similar set of experiences. As someone who has gone through plenty in my life, I hope to depict a tale of overcoming adversity rather than being imprisoned by it. Nonetheless, this is a fair warning to those that would rather not be reminded of such times. The City of Crows was a place usually filled with liveliness. But inside a small estate set by the wayside of the Karosgrad Colosseum emanated an unusual stillness. From the very moment one approached the door a lingering sense of sadness was felt. There was only pain now. Where the spacious home had once been filled with laughter, joy and active children, there was only this silence, this omnipresent feeling of death. Were it not for the whipping of family banners from the wind and the rattling of the tugging lantern chains, one might think it abandoned. In truth, it was far from so instead those inside were no longer fully grounded on this earth. But for now, the living room only held one figure whose gaze did not wander; that gaze was settled, settled forwards and staring off somewhere distant. Beneath those lost eyes, the elderly man’s beard had grown dishevelled from a lack of care and his mopish hair, which clung to his cheek and even laid strands across his gaze. The Patriarch of House Colborn was listless and all strength had long since left him, his greyed hues which so often held warmth were empty, filled only with a void of vitality, lacking in life and any sense of emotion else than hopelessness. Was this oblivion? To be cursed with a rarely seen long-lived star who others envied, only to watch those beloved part from this world, to be burdened with pain, again and again, assaulted by quandary after quandary. Was this life? To bring about and birth endless treasures only for them to be taken before one has a chance to appreciate them in their fullest value. To experience things that stab wounds to one very soul that not even prayer can heal, that cannot be mended by magic. Was this fate? To work until one's bones were brittle and one's hand could barely rise properly, only to be punished and put in one's place, to be reminded of the woes of the world and to be pained by twisted reality. A burst of hoarse croaking laughter escaped the elderly man’s throat as if a thousand grains of sand sliding against each other, his throat more parched than a man wandering the desert, as if water couldn’t sate him anymore. With each set of sounds, his throat twisted in pain, eventually leading to a series of coughs, and only a few more pained croaks as if he had swallowed a fly followed. There was a ringing in his ear which had yet to disappear since he had heard the news, that dreadful set of news. Whenever he tried to remember it was like an onset of fog clung to his very mind. What have I forgotten? What was it I’m trying to remember? His mind could not sustain this line of inquiry for long before the fog overwhelmed him again, eliciting another series of wind whistling through his throat, barely able to be called a chuckle, more if anything as if the soul was attempting to leave his body. In his blurry vision which grew darker with each coming moment he could see two figures, two adult men who spoke in the room before him, he could almost hear their voices now. Yes, almost. He was trying his best to make out those voices. The blonde-haired man and his opposite who wore a well-trimmed dark mane walked about the room, two opposites. Why can’t I remember their names? In the chair sitting across from where the disheveled man had sunk into the sofa was a figure he was far too familiar with, the third one present. It was from this man a much deeper and stern voice carried forth. “How long will you do this to yourself?” Adrian’s eyes were still staring in the direction of the two younger images who were silently laughing in the distance as if still alive, a distant memory of better days. The only thought lingering in his mind was why couldn’t he hear them. Breaking his line of thought was the sound of someone clicking their tongue, far too familiar. It caught his attention as it continued in its deeper tone “How long Adrian?” With his name being called he caught himself and as if echoing the thoughts of the person sitting across from him he asked himself. How long has it been? With each moment after the miasma which covered up his thoughts slowly loosened, each eliciting a thought. How long have I been sitting here? Before he could ask himself the next question he heard again that voice, the voice of his father. “Would you rather trick yourself until you are your own prisoner, guard and executioner? And what for? To live out a fantasy of what once was, of what cannot be any longer even if you so dreadfully wish it to?” gruffed the voice, one strained from many years of pipesmoking. He could almost smell the tobacco waft off of his father’s breath, strong and overwhelming. “Will you not return to them?” came the next sentence which echoed now through the elder’s mind. With what had clung across his mind and left it clueless slowly clearing, so did the vision around him, the brightly lit room full of warmth, with its two presences slowly breaking and giving way to an empty home, dark and empty. The fireplace held not even embers and brought no warmth to the cold which filled up the place. “Return to them? Who will I return to? What do I have left to do?” He asked himself while looking to the window which reflected in it a gaunt and harrowing face, his boney cheeks most prominent. His hands which had lay slack slowly making for it, twig-like fingers lanky and absent of warmth, clinging as best they could to a feverishly sweaty forehead. Next to him on the sofa sat Anabel with a tray that held a set of steaming soup bowls, her hands scarred with half-bandaged cuts from her labor. “Find your resolve my son. . . find it as you once did in your youth and bring about the change you want to see in this world. I know you are capable of it.” So came the last words before the elder returned fully to reality as he was jolted by a warm hand, which reached out and caressed his sunken cheek. He barely managed the words through parched lips. It came out in rasps. “My child. . . how long have I…?” With the fog gone now, he knew he’d been through a cyclical process - this wasn’t the first, more so the third or fourth and Anabel had been by his side through it all - his far too kind granddaughter - they all were the treasures of his long-gone Gwyn and what she had wished for the most. That was what made all of this so difficult, with each of their deaths a part of her died with them, a part of her he could never reclaim nor hold to him tight. With each pressing thought, small beads slowly rolled down his cheeks, staining the warmth which covered his right side. Her expression was weary and helpless as she was already not good with people as it was. But even the face of his granddaughter which seldom held much but shyness was covered in worry. With a voice like the soft midsummer gale that carried forth words. “A few hours, I had to reheat the soup twice.” She intoned the last perhaps more in an attempt to hide her worry. But she clearly wasn’t willing to divulge exactly how long it had been. “S-So long?” “That long, yes,” she answered. With the warmth leaving his cheek, his watery eyes drifted down to an extended bowl, held by a caring hand. As his hands gripped around the shape and found long heat he sank in a spoon and ate a mouthful of soup. To his surprise, it tasted better than anything he’d ever eaten, not because of the flavor, but rather because of the hands who had toiled to make it. “Baldram helped, even he seemed to realize what state you’ve been in. . . since.” She caught herself and became numb, her body rigid. He would have let loose a boisterous chuckle in moments like these in the past yet he didn’t find it right to do so, nor was he able. With all he could, he finished off the bowl after an extended period of time sat in relative silence. Though Anabel still remained by his side through it all with fidgeting hands and stirring the cushions of the sofa ever so often. “I’ve sat still for far too long.” Came a voice that had recovered some from having been wet with a meal and his appetite filled. “They say a blade will lose its sharpness if not used, but a trained blade never goes fully dull, ha.” He let out a very short laugh as he monologued a little for the first time in days, weeks even. Putting the bowl down on the tray and extending a thank you to his granddaughter he pushed off of the sofa and came to a stand, making way for his study. While making his way up the stairs brief flashes of what had put him in his state came over him. He had held onto the lifeless body of his grandson Godric with a grip so strong it had split nails and broken a finger. The man’s leg had been as best as possible sown back to where it had been cut off so that he might be whole for a funeral. Thunk, thunk with each step upwards carried another memory. He had wailed his eyes out until red and baggy, his very body broken, wracked with emotion - as if gripping onto any last memory he could of his precious descendant - the heart of his heart and gem to his eye - priceless to him each branch that made up the Colborn tree. Thunk, thunk it continued. He had returned to a home abandoned by Godric’s daughter and his eldest son drinking away his woes, the little one closing himself off from the world. They each sought their own ways to escape from reality and to close themselves off from accepting what it all meant. He had sunk into the sofa then in a moment of helplessness, in a moment of delirium, stuck there as if piecing together a time before all of this had happened and bringing it into reality. He was a craftsman since birth and adventurer by choice, but no tool could fashion him a replacement, no vision or dream could replace what he had lost, and no amount of travel could find his grandson. Thunk, thunk he finally came to a stop at the top of the stairs in front of an oaken door. With a rattle of keys, he slid a key forward and cranked the path open to his study. “I will be the change I wish to see in this world, my fate my own, my journey one of my own making.” He muttered a promise he had made to himself many years before when he had told his father after the tragic passing of his mother, that he wished to return to their homeland, to Haense. His father having seemingly expected as much handed him a bag and retinue, to offer him safe passage. “Your journey will be difficult, there will be times when you wish you hadn’t taken this path and instead taken the easy way out. Will you still travel down this thorny road knowing so?” As if responding to that distant past he whispered beneath his breath, when coming upon his armour and sword. “Now and forever, for inaction is the death of Man and sloth is the downfall of his Kingdom. I will carry forward my virtues and bring upon them my beliefs, my hopes, my dreams.” With newfound resolve he donned himself fully as he had done in times past, slinking his blade into its scabbard - sister to Aeternus. In its shimmering reflection, he saw his sharp gaze which carried with it the strength of his youth before fully sheathed. The blade had been maintained with great discipline as he had been taught to, perhaps he had forgotten to maintain himself - but he wouldn’t forget how - he would forge of himself a new blade that would shine brightly. When he finally came down the stairs with the sounds of his heavy steps following him, strained by his aged body which might give out any moment, he saw at the door his Burgrave Rudolf Vyronov - ready and waiting. He was the diligent sort and a truly loyal retainer, as his ancestors were likewise, once and now again bannermen of his family and bonded brothers. “Have I kept you waiting?” He shot back with a grin that finally graced his features. “Not at all Bossir, I have readied your horse and stand ready for your orders.” The Vyronov stepped forward and hung a cloak around Adrian’s pauldrons, clicking them in place. “Let this old man ask you something Rudolf, not as your liege, but as an elder.” He stated while opening the door to the fresh wintry wind outside, blowing into the home, as well as showing the black steed stationed outside. Turning back for a moment he spoke the all too familiar words. “Your journey will be difficult, there will be times when you wish you hadn’t taken this path and instead taken the easy way out. Will you still travel down this thorny road knowing so?” The younger Vyronov looked at Adrian with no uncertainty and flashed a small cheeky smile that he so often hid behind his well-mannered exterior. “Where you go I follow, where you ride I travel and where you die I shall draw my last - now and forever.” Adrian couldn’t help himself from letting out a chuckle. “Well said. If I was cursed with a long life it seems I was likewise blessed with good company and companions, you never disappoint my Burgrave.” The Vyronov held in his head thoughts of the Elder that he might not realize, for to him, he was more than his liege. No, it was fair to say they were family and he had guided him like a father, and he wouldn’t forget it. Whipping up a storm the two set off for a Haeseni Monastery where the holiest man of all lay in a coma. When let into its hallow chambers the elder kneeled down at the head of the Pontiff’s bed, speaking softly, he recited passages from the Scroll of Auspice. “Bear witness to this prophecy of Sigismund, of the line of Joren, revealed in his last days as he gaze into the Face of God. Attend, brothers, and record my revelation: Behold, and the shadow of GOD is cast thrice upon the land, and thrice the light of instruction is obscured, and men tread the sea in its wake. Now Iblees is rising from the Void. And his chains are augmented, and they are become two wyrms, one beautiful and one terrible. The world is given over to them. The first wyrm is Vargengotz, and he goes forth to conquer and to rule. His six heads bear six crowns, which are the great kingdoms of the world, and he lets no evil be spoken of him. His body is black iron and his wings are dark smoke. The banners of the world are struck down before him, and the sky and mountains are his conquests. And Vargentgotz calls forth three deceivers in the guise of messengers, with wings of cold fire. They are called Justice, Glory, and Reward.” Scroll of Auspice 1:1-9 “The Evil Heart of Iblees rears its ugly head. In my moments of wavering strength, it has taken two of my descendants from me, brought to the Seven Skies before their time. When the deceiver of Justice came to us in the image of St. Karl. His words were not of Justice but in its stead wrath misguided. When those present were fooled I was not swayed, nor did I listen. Holding in my heart the Holy Scrolls to which I leave my trust in.” With more intonation he spoke yet again, lowering his head further towards the ground as if beginning to bow - bowing to God. “Then I found in my land a woman strung upon a cross, perverting the holy. Below she was written in my people's tongue an idiom dear to my heart that only daemons could whisper or know, but I did not waver. When the man of many faces appeared before us I knew it was the deceiver of Glory, and so I swallowed my pride, revealing to the Knights and Acre my failure, trusting in the sacred.” When his palms finally touched the ground he came to a full kowtow, his head touching the floor. “Thus came the last deceiver of Reward before us in the shape of Sigismund III purporting to represent the will of the Golden and the wealth of his legacy, but in him, I found none but Avarice, and so my faith was tested yet I did not waver.” Remaining as he was with tears straining at the corners of his eyes only held back by his own will he spoke in a shout for the first time since Godric’s death. “I will have NO DEBTS LEFT UNPAID during my watch, their evil will be returned threefold, each a mortal blow to their cohorts for the sins against my heart and soul!” “NO EVIL LEFT UNPUNISHED on my watch for my hand will strike that which corrupts the land and the heart of Man, a vessel to the holy, may I take up my sword to strike them down in His name!” “This will be MY LAST GOODBYE to Him, for the forces of Iblees shall be vanquished and their influence freed from the earth at last. A Crimson Inquisition to guide us on such a path towards salvation!” With his last words echoing within the bed chambers it seemed to stir something in the Pontiff as his fingers slowly curled, slowly waking, slowly returning to his flock. Only time would tell if the Elder would have his answer, but he was ready to wait, wait as long as need be. For no man or woman to feel what he had felt, helplessness ever-permeating, pieces of their heart ripped from them. “Holy is thy cross and holy is thy word, crimson is thy punishment.”

Unholy Guidance to the Skies ☨ ___________________________________________oOo___________________________________________ “The form of exorcism is the invocation of God’s authority in casting out the possessor.” Chapter 3. Exorcism §2 Codex Iurius Canonici Danielus Pontifex, Second Edition ☨ It was not burden, yet duty which conflicted a certain accursed soul in the aftermath of the Battle Between Blood that took place within Oren’s city streets. A victor was claimed, yet there was loss for both sides. Rot overtook the city quickly and a lone being garbed in most holy armaments paced the cobbles between the mounds of dead that piled adjacent to the wounded. Suffering, the suffering of mortal man, the unjustifiable torment so befallen upon tainted but misguided souls that still managed to remain alive. This one being, this one wretch retrieved glove from digits so gnarled, to grant salvation through punishment to those who sinned against friend, brother, or enemy. It was then that nail cut forth flesh to release the most hallowed and blessed blood which he allowed to fall forth into the maws of the wounded. A consecration of Three bestowed upon those who sinned so greatly, a gift perhaps to release the soul from mortal husk it so clung to. His actions were subtle, gentle, and calculated as he marked the Lorraine upon pitiful souls. Over time, this man knew affliction and plague would overtake these men, for it was the Luperian Crout which would grant solace to they whom had sinned. In his mind he knew it to be just, the punishment for sin. For it was not what he wished to do deep in his rotten core, but rather it was a duty to that which he had come to understand as salvation which would bless his very soul. The plague which had been ingested by the wounded was Holy to him but Unholy Guidance to a place where soul was sealed. It was a beginning for this cretin, this experimentation which so flowed from his veins into the rotting maws of soldier underfoot. The Three which were within gave yield to plaguecraft, not born of rot like necromantic art, but born from the most holy and divine blood of one whom feared the wrath of GOD. So then, did the man conclude his duties upon select few and wandered off towards hallowed ground for prayer and repentance for what had transpired, with the hope of Unholy Guidance festering within the deepest corners of his twisted mind. For he had exorcised tormented souls this day, and spread the good word to those nearing salvation. ☨ ___________________________________________oOo___________________________________________

The Duke’s Affirmation of Faith Seeking Penance 1st of Horen’s Calling, 1850 Issued and penned by the Duke of Cathalon from Cheval Hall. To whom it may concern, It is not for us, the laity, to decide upon matters of the clergy, ardent worshippers such as we seek the guidance of the Holy Synod and the Holy Mother Church led by the Vicar of GOD, His Holiness to bring us to moral righteousness and salvation in the Seven Skies. Duke Thomas Andrew Helvets, and the whole of the House of Helvets do affirm our fealty in faith to His Holiness, High Pontiff Everard VI. The tumultuousness of the past year of 1849 is behind us all, so let all come forward in this new year to be of one Empire, one faith, one High Pontiff. Lessons of the War of Two Emperor’s are remembered well within the household of Helvets, and bloody schism shall only lay humanity low as we sit at the precipice of invasion by the dwarves. Thus we denounce the actions of schismatics who would tear the tapestry of our faith apart and anoint themselves as its leaders. It is our fervent wish that their Imperial Majesties be reconciled with His Holiness, and that remedy be found so that the unity of our faith remains whole and the brotherhood of Canonism defended. We are their Imperial Majesties vassals always and the true Vicar of GOD, His Holiness High Pontiff Everard VI, leads the faithful. I, Thomas Andrew Helvets, Duke of Cathalon, seek penance from our Holy Mother Church so that excommunication and interdiction may be lifted from the souls of our Empire. We appeal to His Eminence, Francis Cardinal Albarosa, @KaiserJacobII, the Archbishop of our local diocese to hear our plea and dispense such penance. Signed, Thomas Andrew Helvets, Duke of Cathalon

STUCK AT A CROSSROADS I stand before this canonist crossroad as one who wishes to ask for there to be only one path, or a third direction to go. Yet that is not an option for me due to my title as a Holy Knight, and as an Orenian. I have been asked by the Apostolic General of the Supreme Order of Exalted Knighthood to side with Everald IV, while as an Orenian I have been asked to side with Michael I. I am an unconventional Holy Knight, who uses magic to keep the oath I spoke when I joined the Supreme Order of Exalted Knighthood, and I am being asked to make an unconventional choice that most do not wish to have to make in their lifetime. Through self understanding, study of Canonist documents and the oath I took, the only choice I can make is to make no choice. Rather than continuing to walk down one of the paths presented before me, I must stand guard at the crossroad helping and assisting all down whichever path they choose. Only when enough people have walked down these paths, walking to the same place, when the path becomes one, then is when I shall choose to continue down this path. A Holy Knight is entrusted by the High Pontiff to protect the innocent “no matter their rank: beggar and bishop alike.” There are innocent civilians on both sides. Both sides claim the other to have these citizens clouded by Iblees, yet even when these citizens are clouded by Iblees they are still innocent, innocent ones who must be protected until a true path away from Iblees can be produced. Signed, Thucydides Melphestaus Equester Holy Knight of the Supreme Order of Exalted Owyn

A young Li-Ren’s depicting of the Savoyard Court [!]A random poster of people screaming about cannons and stomping on each other is drawn[!] Below would be some sloppy words, the person not quite educated in the language. “They scream loud, CANNON CANNON CANNON MICHAEL!! Who is cannon they speak of? Does someone own cannon? Is cannon big? Where does one get cannon? The church sell cannon?” People died for cannon merchant. Said cannon wasn’t right, legitimate Michael was rightful cannon merchant Lots of shouting in cannon shop Cannon merchant got away, Was told that shortman worked with cannons Dwarves with cannons? Did shortman also Have cannon merchants? A stamped seal lays on bottom of the poster, with a large ? above it.

ENCYCLICAL LETTER PAX DEI ET TREUGA DEI PEACE AND TREATY OF GOD OF THE HIGH PONTIFF EVERARDUS SEXTUS Addressed to the Bishops, Priests, Deacons, and all the lay faithful. For the Cause of Martial Cessation and Unity Throughout Canondom HIS HOLINESS EVERARD VI, High Pontiff of the Church of the Canon, Archbishop of Visigia, Successor of the High Priesthood of the Church, Supreme Pontiff of the Church of True Faith, Keeper of the Canon, Missionary to Aeldin, High Servant to the Exalted's Testaments, Humble Servant of the Faithful and Vicar of GOD. “You will know him, for with peace he gathers the sons of Horen, where the sword has divided them.” (Gospel 7:53) Most Beloved Brethren, Health and Pontifical Benediction. Before We were elected to inherit the laurel of the Exalted, Our predecessor High Pontiff Tylos sought to further unify the Canonist princes in their shared faith. His mission was a unified front of all such sovereigns, to serve as a deterrent to heretic and pagan invaders of Canondom, and to bring peace between Canonists. We share Tylos’ dream, to bring peace to all descendents of Horen through our shared faith in God, for our God is peace, as Our predecessor Jude II made known in the Encyclical Letter “Deus est Pacem”. It is for this reason that We applaud the work of Our Princes in Hanseti-Ruska and Savoy, for their treaty of peace and defense, grounded in their shared identity as brothers in God. We are reminded of the words of Johan Cardinal Allobrogum during a sermon on Canonist unity, “Let all men set aside their swords, and work to build love between Canonist brothers and sisters”, as God intended. We are also reminded of the words from the Scroll of Auspice, “And by God’s will I redeem you of your failures, and send you to work Peace upon it.” God is peace, and by this treaty, Hanseti-Ruska and Savoy come ever closer to fulfilling the will of God. Therefore, building upon the fraternal love between the Canonist Princes of Hanseti-Ruska and Savoy, and following the example of Our namesake Everard IV, We declare the Peace of God, that no arms be raised against our brethren in humanity and the Church. We extend this proclamation to protect all Canonists: the meek, the civilian, men and women of the Church, and their property. All adversity and hostility are hereby condemned under penalty of admonition. The will of God for His chosen people is supreme, and those who act in defiance of this declaration condemn themselves to the Void. Furthermore, We declare a Truce of God, reaffirming Our Church’s standing prohibition on armed conflict between the levies of Canondom. We are all called to remember who our true enemies are: not our brethren in God, but rather the heresies and evils of Iblees. Henceforth, let it be known that disagreements between Our people must be solved through law and consultation, and that the Church makes herself available as a mediator when it is necessary. Heed that none among us ought to be filled with wrath; those who strike first, rejecting the will of God shall be rebuked and damned. To Our clergy: Your service has never been more important. Our God is Peace, Love, and Mercy, and it is we who must deliver that message to our flocks. We offer a spiritual wealth for which there is no worldly substitute. When you work, do so with the knowledge that We go with you. To Our laymen, know that We work for the greater good of all Canonists, that the will of God, and therefore of Peace, shall be realized and come to pass. The quadricentennial of the Revelation of Exalted Sigismund shall soon be upon us. During this most holy year, let us pray for the strength to seek Peace in all things, to show Mercy to those who have wronged us, and to Love our brothers as we love ourselves. Written in and published from the Pontifical Residence in Karosgrad, given to all Our flock on the 17th of Sigismund’s End/17th of Joma & Umund, in the year of our lord, 1846/399 ES, the eleventh of Our Pontificate. ☩AD MAIOREM DEI GLORIAM☩ FOR THE GREATER GLORY OF GOD UNITATEM IN DEO, THE VICAR OF GOD Sanctitas, Papa Everardus Sextus

Ser Fiske’s Travels or An Unfinished Tale of Pilgrimage [[OOC: About a year ago or so, I chose to take my then main character, Ser Fiske Vanir, on a pilgrimage. Not just your typical 'im on holiday/hiatus, thus absent' pilgrimage, but one I roleplayed planning in advance with the help of VIROS (Whom I wish to once again thank), who was High Pontiff back then. We wrote up places for my character to visit and three relics to retrieve. I would then write a story out of this journey, though I'm afraid I never quite got around to finishing it. And now, with it being a year since I started writing this, my character long since then pk'd, I do not think I intend to finish this story anymore. Perhaps I will one day, but for now I decided I would post it for eager readers in it's unfinished form. With that in mind, I hope you enjoy the part of the tale I did end up writing!]] The Serpent as it sails through frozen waters, the icy mountains of Serrimor in the background. Ser Fiske ‘the Daring’. That’s what our pilgrim Vanir had been knighted as last month on Arcas. Since that night in the throne room of King Josef of Haense, things had gone fast. He had planned his journey long in advance, with the help of the High Pontiff. All he waited for was for himself to be finished with his squireship and to be knighted. After such had happened in the latest court gathering, he’d said farewell to his friends and family in the Haeseni capital, before retreating northward to his castle in Vasiland so he could prepare for the journey. He and his crew loaded their supplies aboard and then boarded his private sailing ship, The Serpent, as they set sail northwards past Valwyck, through the icy waves. As they began passing the frozen shores of Serrimor after a few days of sailing, he turned to what would be his confidant on this journey: his travelling journal. Prologue It has been about a month and a half now since our departure from Arcas, and think we can see the northwestern tip of Aeldin on the horizon now. Initially, the weather conditions were very favourable for us, the wind in our sails as he we sailed north from Haense, past Serrimor and the southeastern shores of Atlas. The large stretch of eastward sailing from there to Aeldin was a different story though, as the wind was no longer in our backs. The journey was slow and took longer than expected or at least hoped. Our supplies have run low, near the point of rations, but we will be able to restock soon upon our arrival in Aeldin. One good thing about the length and low intensity of the trip was that I got a lot of time to think and read. About the places I’m visiting and their Saints, but also about why I’m going on this pilgrimage. I guess there’s multiple reasons for it, that I’m just now really coming to understand. Late last night, we docked in this harbor town called Reden, the first place we spotted here on the coast of Aeldin. A few of my crew stayed on the ship while me and some others went to the local tavern to get our bearings and to get a proper bath. We returned to the ship around midnight, refreshed and having found the market square where we could restock our supplies. Sadly that’s where disaster struck though this morning. We’d bought all the supplies we needed to refill our stock no problem, but when I wanted to buy a map of the waters between Fjordhem and the mainland, I suddenly realized I had been pickpocketed and my pouch with minas was gone. We looked around for a bit to find the culprit, but couldn’t find anybody of suspicion. After that I decided we’d go back to the ship and we’re now on our way to Powys where we’ll probably arrive tomorrow around noon. I know God has His ways to try His servants and challenge them, but this just felt like punishment. Perhaps He wants me to learn a lesson about greed and temperance, or maybe that I shouldn’t be so reliant on money on my pilgrimage. But I don’t know. The White Cliffs of Powys Chapter 1: Ulmsbottom Upon seeing them, I was blinded by them in the morning light of the rising sun. The white cliffs of Powys! They are truly a sight to behold, beautiful and towering chalk cliffs that rise out of the sea like a wall. We docked in Powys like the High Pontiff had suggested me to, and it immediately became apparent why he’d done such. Powys seemed like a much safer harbortown than Reden and with an even bigger market. I suppose it would have been wise to follow the plan laid out for us by the Pontiff, but that’s all in hindsight. We simply stretched our legs for a bit in Powys and asked for how to find the Monastery at Ulmsbottom, as well as delivering a letter His Holiness had given me to a priest at the local cathedral. The man seemed ecstatic to receive a letter from the High Pontiff himself, albeit it wasn’t for him but for a man called Friar Griffith, who wasn’t present at the time. While walking through some fields after I left the cathedral on my way back towards the harbor, a most curious figure blocked my way. He was a robed figure with brown hair and a black, wreathed apparition. The figure asked where I was going, to which I stated I was going wherever the good Lord’s grace led me. Then the robed man said to me, “Wherever you go, or whatever you attempt, Iblees will resist you.” For a moment, I stood in silent surprise to these words, before I remembered the prophetic saying, and said, “The Lord is my helper; I will not fear what man can do unto me.” Then, to my utter confusion, the robed figure disappeared from my sight in the blink of an eye, and soon I resumed my way to the harbor, and to Ulmsbottom. When we came to the rocky island of Ulmsbottom, some guards welcomed us on the dock, and invited me to come with them to meet the overseer of the penal colony that the monastery was part of; warden Bedwyr Hughes. The warden was a middle-aged man with one of the biggest moustaches and some of the thickest eyebrows I have ever seen in my life, giving him a stern and imposing look. After talking some with the man however, it turned out he was a calm, temperate and kind soul, and we quickly hit it off. He showed me to a guest room in his home where I could stay, and then took me to the old Ashford House, now their family chapel, where Pontiff St. Lucien was born and where they kept much imagery and many relics of this holy man. I asked for a moment of privacy, as I knelt down in prayer by the shrine dedicated to the Saint, and stayed there for a while in silence, taking in the scent of the little bit of incense that burned inside the little chapel. I prayed at length for the well-being of my family, both the living family members I left behind at home, but especially the ones that were no longer with me for they died when I was young, especially my parents. After all Saint Lucien was the patron Saint of the family. In prayer I asked St. Lucien, as well as GOD himself, to look kindly upon my relatives in the Seven Skies despite what mistakes they might have made in life, and furthermore I pleaded to be blessed with a good family of my own in the future. The front courtyard and entrance of the Reformative Monastery of HP St. Lucien I Once I was finished, warden Hughes joined me again and he took me to the Reformative Monastery of High Pontiff Saint Lucien. Upon getting there, accompanied by some of my crew and some of his guards, we found the monastery seeming deserted. We figured the monks were all at mass, for we didn´t know the time of day, and so he simply accompanied me to the reliquary to show some of the relics the monks held of their patron Saint. After some time of being there and still not having seen a single monk however, we got curious as to their whereabouts and began looking for any of them. We were just looking around the monastery´s training grounds, where I had hoped to join them for a drill session as is tradition for pilgrims, when we heard the monastery´s bells being rung. The warden, who was very well-acquainted with what certain ways of ringing the bells meant, told me that someone had just passed away. Therefore we headed to the monastery’s infirmary, not in a running hurry, but with slow, solemn steps, as I was instructed was part of the ritual the monks upheld in such a situation. When we came close to the infirmary, we could clearly make out the litany of the Saints being sang in chant by a choir of monks, and upon entering, we saw that the monks had all lined up in an orderly fashion to say their farewell to their deceased brother. A priest of the monastery came to the doorway to meet us and we exchanged a few words. He welcomed me to their monastery and apologized for the circumstances in which we joined them. He told us that a catechumen, not a monk, had suddenly passed away due to illness, which the priest explained to me was most terrible, as the poor soul had died before being able to receive baptism. Feeling sorrow for the poor soul, I in turn asked if I was allowed to also say a few things for the deceased catechumen, and the priest happily obliged. When it was my turn to kneel beside the deceased brother wrapped in stainless white sheets, I did not say a farewell, but instead laid my hands onto the man’s chest and closed my eyes in earnest prayer. I called upon Saint Lucien, the Exalted Horen, and GOD, to save the catechumen. Then, after my extensive prayers, to which the monks silently bore witness, I rose up a little and gazed upon the countenance of the deceased, waiting for the result of my prayer and the mercy of the Lord. After about ten minutes had passed, the warden placed a hand on my shoulder and said that while my gesture was of great symbolic significance and also greatly appreciated, it was time to move on. I thought he had a point, but waited yet some more time for GOD’s answer to my prayers. Scarcely had the space of two more minutes passed, when the dead man began to move a little in all his members and tremble with his eyes open for the practice of sight. The monks came closer to gaze upon the catechumen who they had formerly left dead in surprise, exclaiming loud praise to the Lord in ecstasy and immediately baptising the man afterwards. I stayed the night at the monastery then, together with warden Hughes and our men, and joined the monks in prayer the next morning, before being invited to furthermore join them in breakfast and their combat drills as was custom for pilgrims to Ulmsbottom. The High Pontiff had warned me already that these men were excellent martial artists, and I found myself easily outmatched by their champion in a friendly spar, as he had projected. We had a good laugh about it however, before I asked to talk to the man from the day before, who was recovering in the infirmary. I talked for a long time with the man, who’s name he told me was Bohemund and he said he was grateful for the mercy the Lord had had upon his soul, and thanked me for pleading patiently for it in prayer. Toward the end of the afternoon, one of the warden’s men told me it had become time to head back to the penal colony town of Ulmsbottom, and so I said my farewell to Bohemund. Upon coming out of the infirmary however, I was not only greeted by the warden and our men, but furthermore by a trio of priests, the headmaster of the monastery and two others, bathing in the golden light of the sun that stood low above the horizon already. They said to me that they wished to thank me greatly for the service I had provided the day prior with my prayer for the brother in the infirmary, and that they wished to give me something to take home with me from my pilgrimage. Then, from under a white cloth, they showed me an iron manacle, linked to a chain by a bolt. I had seen it the day prior in the reliquary, and they confirmed that it was one of their relics, once worn by Saint Lucien, then still known as Velwyn Ashford, as he ventured from Aeldin to Oren on a slave galley. I thanked them greatly for their holy gift and the many blessings that followed, assuring them that their gesture would forever stay with me. After saying farewell to them, we then left for the warden’s home in Ulmsbottom, where me and my crew stayed a few more uneventful days before setting sail for our next destination. Chapter 2: Wycke Shortly before me and my men were about to set off to Fjordhem, a dove delivered an envelope from home, containing some money along with a letter, a response to a letter I had sent home when I first arrived in Aeldin. I had told about how my money was stolen, and now my fiancé and family had backed me up by sending me some. I had prayed for my family to Saint Lucien, and suddenly a sign of support from my family came from my faraway home. It felt almost like a miracle from the Saint, and it made me realize that while you can’t rely on money, you can rely on your family and GOD. Having some funds on me ended up making a great difference to the events that followed. As I had been warned by not only the High Pontiff back in Arcas, but also the Warden about the treacherous waters around Fjordhem, I decided to hire one of the Fjordhemian former pirates that lived at the penal colony to serve as an aiding navigator. With this new addition to my crew, I bid my farewell to the Warden before setting off to the northeast, to the cold and windswept land of Fjordhem. We charted our course to sail towards the town of Austbo on the island with the same name, planning to dock there briefly before then sailing to the mainland of Fjordhem at the nearby destination of Wycke. At first, things were fine and we experienced smooth sailing. For those who have not seen navigation maps of Aeldin, there is a strong west to east current that flows along the northern shore of the continent, and for us this meant that we were making fast progress. Furthermore, the weather was amazing, it was cold and a bit windy, but the sun burned bright and warmed us, not to mention the wind was in our sails! It seemed like we were going to reach Austbo a day or two sooner than expected, and, all of us being in good spirits, we decided to keep going throughout the final night rather than anchoring, to see how fast exactly we could get there. Our navigator Bram, a tall, strong blonde Fjordhemian with bright blue eyes, said he’d never experienced sailing this smooth going to Fjordhem, and he joked we might set a record. As the island of Austbo became visible on the horizon, it was early in the evening, and as we were planning to sail throughout the night to get there quickly, we had a fast meal before intending to return to our positions. However, as we were briefly sitting down to eat some of our provisions, The Serpent calmly sailing forward in the sunset, the precariousness of the Fjordhemian weather first showed itself to us as the wind suddenly died down. After our meal, I instructed my men to get to their oars, having realized we’d need to cover the final stretch rowing. With our progress slow now, I kept a constant eye out for the next change of the weather to see if the wind would return. I did not have to wait long to spot the first signs of change, as a thick pack of clouds appeared from the northwest on the horizon. We were relieved at first, though it did not take long for us to realize that we were finding ourselves in the calm before the storm. The shore of Austbo during a nighttime storm Shortly after the fall of dark, it had gotten much colder. The strong wind had returned, but this time it came from the north and wasn’t helping us get to the island. As we continued rowing, the sky only turned darker as the moon and stars began to be hidden behind dark clouds. With the town of Austbo in sight on the shore in the distance, we heard the first signs of a thunderstorm in the north. The waves became rowdier by the minute and if it wasn’t for our Fjordhemian navigator, we would have crashed on various rock formations that pierced the water. Soon the rain started pouring down upon us and between it and the towering waves, we no longer had sight of neither the town nor the shore itself. As we were going through the ever increasing storm blind at this point, the Fjordhemian navigator and I myself agreed that it would be best to steer clear from the shore rocky for now and instead set course northward to avoid being blown off course too far south. For hours upon hours, my crew and I braved the relentless storm, gliding up and down waves that must have been higher than houses in our ship that seemed very tiny all of the sudden. We were tired and weary as it must’ve been in the middle of the night at this point but we constantly needed to put in all our energy to keep the ship under control. It seemed like there was no end to this storm. Our ship was getting damaged, not too badly at first, but as more and more damage started mounting atop of one another, the condition of the ship got seriously worrying. As this wild ride in the night dragged on, my crew became increasingly tired and less able to weather the storm. A big wave that crashed onto the ship nearly caused one of the rowers to fall into the water, only staying on board with the help of two others. As the night dragged on towards the morning and the storm yet showed no sign of ending, our ship and my crew were in a dire state. Having lost all hope, I kneeled at the helm, soaked by salty seawater, and began praying to Saint Malcolm. Why would he do this? The patron Saint of storms, pushing us to our limits on my pilgrimage to him, with a storm so fierce it would make even the hardiest of seamen afraid. I prayed to him to aid us, he had tested us, and we had resisted the storm so far, had we not? With faith in the Lord, I begged him to save us, before promptly needing to return to the helm to guide us along a tall and rough wave. By the time morning came not long after the prayer, the thunderstorm had stopped. And while it still rained heavily, the sunrise managed to show through the clouds, revealing the main island of Fjordhem looming in the distance. As the storm further calmed, we dared to venture closer to the shore of the island. It took a while before our Fjordhemian navigator recognized a part of the shore so he could tell us where we were, then telling me to throw the helm around as it turned out we’d been blown a fair bit off course and Wycke was the other way. Around mid-day however, we came near the capital of Wycke, and a large fishing vessel came out to guide us into the harbor. We had made it at last. The Serpent being guided into the harbor of Wycke. Later that day, we had docked the ship properly in the cove the capital city of Wycke was situated in, and we went into the town to orient ourselves and buy new supplies while some of our men stayed behind to repair the ship and rest. The High Pontiff had told me that Wycke was not a big city, and it seems like he was right. He’d told me it would have a population of about twenty thousand people however, which seemed less accurate. Instead much of the town was deserted, with many buildings either boarded up or crumbling. As I stood in the middle of a small square, trying to determine where the centre of the town would be where the shrine to St. Malcolm was to be found, I suddenly felt a tug on my coat. Upon turning around, I was greeted by a thin, raggedy man, begging for money. After I gave him two golden minas, I asked him for his name and where I could find St. Malcolm’s shrine. The man introduced himself as Ailbert and said that in gratitude for my charity, he would take me to see the shrine. On the way we passed some more boarded up houses, which I asked him about. Ailbert said that things weren’t going well for Wycke. He told me that a series of cold winters and a lack of much fish to be caught drove many people to emigrate to the mainland of Aeldin, or pursue piracy, which in turn caused more to leave as the limited fishing industry that remained came in increasing danger. At that point we came to the shrine and Ailbert bid me farewell as he went to buy food with the minas I’d given him. I blessed the poor man before turning to the shrine. Pontiff James II had written down that upon arrival, pilgrims would offer the shed skin of a viper to the shrine as was custom. Until now I had been unsure of how I would get the viper’s skin, but it seemed that an entrepreneurial local merchant had made use of this tradition, as I spotted a shop nearby that had snake skins hanging in the window. I bought one and offered it to the shrine of the holy man, something that was supposed to grant me immunity from the bite of a viper, though like the High Pontiff, I was not too sure if that is just folklore or a miracle the Saint will grant me. I made a brief prayer at the shrine to Saint Malcolm, thanking him for allowing us to weather the storm of the night before, after which I paid a visit to the local cathedral. There I prayed for the rest of the afternoon and spoke to a few priests before I made my way back through the half-empty town, past the shrine to Saint Malcolm. I went back down to the harbor, to check on my ship before joining my men in a local tavern to get a quick meal before hitting the hay early, exhausted from the sleepless night before. The next day we all slept in, having a minor breakfast late in the morning before I set out to make my way back to the cathedral, having agreed to meet up with a priest just before noon mass, to talk about planning a missionary trip to a local heathen tribe. The next day me, the priest and some of my men set out into the mountains of Fjordhem, travelling inland on foot for two days before entering the lands of the Damnonii tribe, a group of pagans who were slowly being converted to canonism. The tribesmen were an interesting folk and though they were pagan, they were surprisingly tolerant to our missionary visit, most likely because of the gifts we brought along. We gave them many furs which they clad themselves in extensively, along with some other gifts like preservable food, a bronze cross and one of the Holy Scrolls, which two young tribesmen who I was told were learning to read happily took from us. We stayed with the Damnonii for a few days, in which we preached the gospel to them and me and my men learned about some of their curious culture. The Damnonii covered themselves in blue and green bodypaint, which they offered to me and the other members of the mission as well, but I politely declined because I feared it had some pagan meaning. They also did a lot of wrestling while wearing nothing except a wool skirt. We helped them herd their sheep when needed, and at the end of our stay, four of the tribesmen, including the two young ones that were learning to read, agreed to convert to Canonism. I helped the priest with the baptismal ceremony which we conducted in a nearby creek. The countryside of Fjordhem where the Damnonii herd their sheep. Afterward the baptism, they wished to thank us, saying they had a gift for us in return. Their chieftain told us that in a recent war with another tribe, they had confiscated what they thought was something us canonists would like. To everyone’s surprise, he suddenly gave us what the priest said was the lost half of an important relic of Saint Malcolm. He handed us a brass serpent curled underneath a cross of the same material, part of the Brazen Staff of the Saint, is what I would be told later. I must say I grew quite fond of these odd people in the few days we stayed with them, even if they were weird pagans. The fact that they allowed men of GOD into their midst, showing us kindness and to an extent even accepting and joining us, showed me that even if some of GOD’s children are misled, they are often still good and pure of heart. When we headed back, St. Malcolm must’ve been proud of us, for the whole two days of travelling back to the coast, a warm sun shone upon us rather than the rain and wind that were commonplace here. After our trip to the Damnonii, we did not stay in Fjordhem for much longer, for winter was approaching. The last day I spent praying in the cathedral, until the priest that had gone with us came up to me and offered me the repaired staff of Saint Malcolm to take back to Arcas with us. He said the Bishopric was very pleased with our conversions, and that the Bishop was honored to have a pilgrim sent by His Holiness in Wycke. Thus they wished to thank me by giving me the relic cross which they had put back on the pine staff that it once sat on before being lost when a group of missionaries died in a blizzard. I thanked the priest and his bishop to no end, before leaving the cathedral at the end of the afternoon. Walking back down towards the harbor, I offered a bronze coin to the shrine of Saint Malcolm as according to custom, something he supposedly used to ward off pirates, before leaving again for the harbor, continuing on my pilgrimage back to the mainland, to Gaekrin. Chapter 3: Ervemark To our luck and delight, we experienced no stormy weather nor extraordinarily choppy waves as we sailed back to the Aeldinian mainland. The Serpent tore through the waves with the wind in our sails. As we realized we’d get to the port city of Ervemark sooner than expected, we came to the conclusion Saint Malcolm had to be with us now, shepherding us from potential storms just as we had shepherded the sheep of the Damnonii a few days ago. After leaving Wycke in the morning, we docked at the castle town of Sverngard in the evening, then six days later we caught sight of Ervemark. The so-called ‘City of Flames’ lived up to its name at the first sight of it. Upon docking in the harbor we had trouble keeping our eyes off the view of this beautiful city in the distance. Its architecture was quite refined indeed, but what made the look of it all the more special was the material from which the finest of buildings was constructed: a reddish stone much like marble, that shone warmly, invitingly and purely beautiful in the late afternoon sun. The harbor of Ervemark was full of life, bustling with incoming and outgoing merchant-folk as well as some upper class looking ladies and gentlemen, sipping wine, playing music and singing to their heart's content as they floated about the harbor in small yet beautiful and luxurious sloops. We ended up docking in a somewhat remote corner of the port before walking the boulevard, a broad street along the docks that was overshadowed by cliffs with ruins on top of them and buildings inside them. We searched for a place to stay the night and have dinner which we did with little effort.. A view of the port of Ervemark. . . .

Canonist Fascism A Study of Ideology By: Thucydides Melphestaus INTRODUCTION Canonist fascism can be regarded as a variant of the political ideology fascism. In which it incorporates the tenets of Fascism into a canonist society. Such a combination can be beneficial to a specified populace within a nation, but for foreign affairs, immigration, and differing culture groups it can be detrimental to a nation's growth and prosperity. EXPLANTATION Canonist fascism in truth is similar to that of the more broad political ideology of fascism, except it transfers pride of one’s nation, pride of one’s nationality, and pride of one’s race, also to that of pride of one’s religion, specifically canonism. The pride in one’s religion on it’s own is capable of not being transferred to that of canonist fascism, but more so it is capable of being a stepping stone towards canonist fascism. For the pride of one’s religion can be turned into a belief where other’s must be of your religion too, and at this point it is only a short few steps to take on the other beliefs of fascism, race superiority, nationalism, chauvinism, and especially due to the common governmental structure of modern day nations, authoritarianism. EXAMPLE To better understand such a political, and one could say religious ideology, one must look at examples, or similar occurrences. This is so that a defined definition along with a reason for such a definition can be justified. Such an example can be found in today’s society with that of the independent Principality of Savoy. The Principality of Savoy, even at its basic core is riddled with fascist tendencies. One can reference the Lex Savoia, the Savoyard law, as evidence of such a claim. ‘Book I’ and ‘Book IV’ can be used as evidence to fascist tenet of machismo which has ingrained itself into Savoyard society. Focusing upon how men of Savoy are by law required to carry a weapon upon them at all times, and be properly trained in combat. Then the Lex Savoia seemingly encourages trials by combat, and duels. These laws and encouragement can easily relate to the core beliefs of machismo. The Lex Savoia also makes beliefs of a core tenet of fascism law too, social order. The Lex Savoia, along with The Springtime Edict, make the use of feudalism ideals and beliefs for that of their law. Beliefs and ideals which fall under that of social order, a tenet of fascism. There are a multitude of other statements and laws placed within these official documents which I could write upon, however I would instead encourage others to read it for themselves and determine their thoughts upon such matters. Rather, I shall speak upon current events of such a nation which suggest to me that canonist fascism is within not just Savoyard law and documents, but also Savoyard society. The first thing that comes to mind when it comes to tenets of fascism which are within Savoyard society would be racism. It is a common sight to see elves of all sub-races burning within the square of San Luciano, and citizens emitting racist tendencies towards that of any races other than that of Human. One may claim that these tendencies are because of the church, yet then the claim towards a canonist fascist society would be even more apparent. In their construction of a colosseum, the relation to masochism and heroism can be easily found, and dare I say I need not even explain in words regarding such a relation. Instead shall entrust the reader to understand such a relation and instead move onto that of economic interventionism and its relevance to the ‘Lower & Middle-Class Infrastructure Edict, 1839’. Economic interventionism is the action in which the government intervenes into the market. The ‘Lower & Middle-Class Infrastructure Edict, 1839’ blatantly speaks upon how the government of Savoy is involving itself in the development of an area of land within Savoy, arguably due to market failure. Fascism within Savoyard society I have defined, yet I have yet to define the point at which canonism comes into play, the piece of Savoy that sits in the center of its society. A devout nation which uses fascist tenets within the religion of canonism, racism, indoctrination, and direct action. CONCLUSION It is not up to me to say whether such a political ideology such as canonist fascism ingrained into the society of a nation is not of a positive or negative, that is up to each person and their own beliefs. However I believe I can permit myself to state that on certain matters such an ideology will greatly deter a nation, while on other matters it may assist a nation. Whether or not if the positives and the negatives were put upon a scale the scale would be balanced or lean in favor of the positives is not something that can be declared by one and unanimously believed by the rest.

In Charitas On Charity Written on the 12th of Malin’s Welcome, 1831 “And so I have placed into your hearts the blessings of abundance: the virtuous wealth of the spirit. And as I have given to you this blessing of My Word, you shall also give unto your fellows.” (Virtue 2:5-6) There are several virtues laid out for us in the scrolls and each and every one is worthy of mention, one that has acted as a guiding principle instructing the children of GOD to abstain from the pecuniary measures of wealth and success and instead embrace the spiritual: Charity. There are innumerable acts of spiritual charity to draw inspiration from but I would like to address those of His Holiness Daniel the Writer and James II, who through years of diligent work penned an interpretation of the scrolls for public digestion, an act I believe embodies the spirit of the scripture noted above. His virtue is abundant, sustains our spirit and is never divided but always multiplied (Virtue 2:9) and in releasing the interpretation as public resource has allowed the abundance of the Lord in the hearts and minds of his children including myself, who through use of the scripture was taught to read and write. It was said by James II (1778) “I say again to each of you that you are like unto priests! Whatever virtue you expect of your priesthood, expect it of yourself, for the world watches you just as you watch us”[1]and to be the virtue we expect of the world we must consider what acts we can take in effort to more closely follow the canticles laid before us in the scrolls. It is said in the Canticle of Temperance “For I have given to you the pleasures of the world, and they shall comfort you in the theater of virtue; And you shall take them carefully, and shall not become a creature of worldly indulgence as the beasts of the earth” (Virtue 3:7-8) and so I believe it is should be seen as a labor of love to provide that which is not needed to those who are needy in His name, for we are all in need of the word of GOD and his abundance but many have their needs for shelter, food, warmth, and security met in abundance and should take them carefully as not to indulge. Jude II when addressing a query as to the church’s place in war said: “We say firstly that God is many things; God is Love, as is the motto of High Pontiff Everard V and so too is He Mercy, as He is the Most Merciful.”[2] And just as God sees fit to show us mercy with that which He has in abundance: Virtue, so too should we seek to act upon that love and in His name give unto others. In the letter mentioned prior Jude II also said “it is we ordained men who will serve in other ways” and just as ordained men shall serve so too should all men for we are like unto priests. WE should serve the Lord as His will is perfect, we should seek to follow His virtue of charity, we should do so in fidelity to Him and his children by practicing temperance and seeking with patience and diligence to live in humility, having faith that our Lord shall provide both to us and through us and casting aside that which we would indulge in to more needy mouths, hearts, and minds. God is Love and Charity, to toil tirelessly in the name of Love and Charity is to toil tirelessly in the name of God; there is no shame in humbling oneself to work in the fields, to pawn away ornate treasures to feed your brother so that he may be as blessed as you, to shed excess in the name of giving for It was God's will that he should give unto us the world, The word, the virtue, the Seven Skies, and all things good and true and there is no shame in trying to work in the name of God’s will. Citations: Transcript of the Imperial Quadricentennial Mass[1] Encyclical Letter, God Is peace. [2] Written By: Acolyte Turnfield

MUSIC K H R O N I A P O L L A EST. 1823 WITHIN THE METROPOLITANATE OF PROVIDENTIA WITH THE BLESSING OF HIS EMINENCE CARDINAL GAWAIN FROM THE SCRIPTORIUM OF FATHER LAURENȚIU POPESCU-VOITEŞTI, FSSCT GLORY TO THE LORD & MAY HIS SAINTS FOREVER BE BLESSED PROCLAMATION OF A METROPOLITAN ABBEY Let it be known to all faithful Canonists that, within the Metropolitan Diocese of Providentia, a new Abbey has been consecrated for use by the Monasti of Blessed Pius & Seraphim, a dual-cloister accepting both male and female postulates. The Abbey shall function upon the institutes therein The Monastikon, following the great Vasoyevian tradition. We dedicate our Abbey to both the Blessed Hieromonk Pius of Sutica and the Blessed Father Seraphim so that we may be guided by their righteous grace, dignity, piety, and humility before GOD. We declare to know no father but our Father Almighty GOD; know no mother but our Mother of Mankind; know no belongings, but that which belongs not to ourselves; and know no kindness, but that bestowed upon our brother-man. For we have died a worldly death so that we may go to battle for you. For everyday, the monk enters battle with Iblees for the salvation of his brother-man. Everyday, the nun beseeches salvation for humankind. I hear the scoff of the hardened soldier; I have borne my scars of war, but I tell you, no battlefield will test yine strength like that of the monastic life. Come to us, brave warrior, so that you might walk the path of our Lord and achieve union with Almighty GOD. Come too, ye politician! Who have allowed temporal decay to consume you; it is not too late for salvation. Come, ye priests! Who serve well, yet wish to serve GOD twice-fold. The Hieromonk in you is destined to be born. You harlots! You broken women! Come, for it is not too late to earn GOD’s mercy. Brothers and sisters, I tell you, it is not too late. I will greet you at the gates. & to any heathen who reads this missive, and intends harm upon the community: If you come, you will not return. BLESSINGS OF GOD BE UPON YOU, HIEROABBOT LAURENȚIU POPESCU-VOITEŞTI, FSSCT THE ABBEY IS GUIDED BY THE MONASTIKON & THE INSTITUTES HEREIN MONASTIC DEGREES TENETS & CORRECTIONS Minor Rules Ꙉ Monasti of the opposite sex shall avoid fraternizing privately with one another; Monasti who forsake this tenet shall clean the latrines for the coming fortnight to remind them of their lavaciousness. Ꙉ Monasti shall not sate their appetite for food ere the daily supper; Monasti who forsake this tenet shall undertake a strict fast of three days to remind them of their gluttony. Ꙉ Monasti shall not adorn temporal clothes, but remain strictly in the clothes of their degree; Monasti who forsake this tenet shall be vested in rags for the next year to remind them of their pride. Median Rules Ꙉ Monasti shall not quarrel; Monasti who forsake this tenet shall be vowed to silence for the coming week. Ꙉ Monasti shall not gamble; Monasti who forsake this tenet shall pick pennies for the poor for the coming week. Ꙉ Monasti shall not lie; Monasti who forsake this tenet shall pray ceaselessly for forgiveness for the coming week. Ꙉ Monasti shall not blaspheme; Monasti who forsake this tenet shall be excluded from common prayer for the coming week. Major Rules Ꙉ Monasti shall not murder; Monasti who forsake this tenet shall be expelled from the monastery. Ꙉ Monasti shall not fornicate; Monasti who forsake this tenet shall be expelled from the monastery. Ꙉ Monasti shall not preach heresy; Monasti who forsake this tenet shall be expelled from the monastery. Ꙉ Monasti shall not disobey their Abbot; Monasti who forsake this tenet shall be expelled from the monastery. DUTIES The Abbey, and it's Monasti, serve to fulfil a number of functions beyond the individual, spiritual, obligations of the monastics. These functions primarily serve to aid the wider faithful, as well as the Holy Mother Church, and of course the State. Some such duties, not exclusively, are: (i) Communal prayer on behalf of individuals, families, or nations of the faithful: the monastics will muster together to perform rituals of prayer, beseeching the intercession of Almighty GOD, His Prophets or Saints, on behalf of the faithful. The Monasti can prayer for the safe passing of a loved one, the success of an Emperor in matters of righteous war, the safety of a Canonist peoples undergoing foreign persecution, or another matter deemed appropriate for such a holy ceremony. This act of faith is not exclusive to Emperors and Dukes however, as the Monasti will perform such rites even for the lowliest of peasants. (ii) Acts of charity, inkeeping with Blessed Seraphim's institution of monastic-giving: the monastics will provide the poor and wretched with a place to stay, bread and food, or teachings in the way of Canonism. These acts are not the sole duty of Monastics, but a secondary function, and as such the regular occurrence of this charity will be limited to the discretion of individual monasti and their Abbot. (iii) Missionary work: the Monasti will travel to foreign lands in search of converts to the blessed faith of Canonism. Often risking life and limb for such ventures, the Monasti should fear not death, for they are dead to the world. (iv) Negotiating the release of Canonist hostages held by heathens and heretics: the Monasti will intercede on behalf of Canonists who have fallen prey to heathen or heretical hostage-takers, acting as the middle-men for the safe return of the faithful from barbarous hands. APPLICATION Either Fill-In An Application (OR) Visit In-Game To Discuss In RP OOC IGN: DISCORD: TIME-ZONE: IC NAME: RACE: GENDER: ORDAINED: (Y/N) BRIEF LETTER: (IC reason for applying)

A Call for Ecclestical Trial Issued by the Auditor of the Tribunal. Johan “Horens Giant” Vullier Table of context. THE OFFENDERS CALLED FOR TRIAL. THE EVIDENCE. THE WITNESS LIST. THE JURY THE CRIMES. THE OFFENDERS CALLED FOR TRIAL. The organization known as the Ferrymen. Reasoning : I. During the assassination of his Holiness High Pontiff Jude II, Two members of the Ferrymen organization where found with their blades drawn surrounding the body of Jude II and the body of another member of the clergy. One of these men where quickly struck down by members of the Imperial State Army as well as the Ministry of Justice. Sadly one wearing the armor of the organization was able to escape the city. II. During the battle of Northguard thousands of Imperial witnesses could see the organization known as the Ferrymen fighting on the side of the heathen armies of Norland. This furthering the assumption that they in fact work for the heathen army. THE EVIDENCE During the Tribunal investigation dubbed “The Dove has fallen” we have gathered evidence from multiple sources. Not only witnesses of the crime itself, but other witnesses who saw one of the men behind the murder of High Pontiff Jude II while escaping the city of Providence while being ran after by multiple guards. The Tribunal has also been getting numerous reports of the criminal activities of the organization in question as well as one of them seeming to try and spy on the Imperial Household and staff. Its with these reports and accusations as well as the murder of his Holiness Jude II and their partaking in the ongoing war against the heathens hordes of Norland that the Tribunal had decided that enough evidence is gathered to call for an Trial of the whole organization known as the Ferrymen. THE WITNESS LIST. Due to the nature of the organization called to trial the names of the witnesses shall not be published. This to ensure their and their families safety. We know from experience and sources that the organization known as the Ferrymen do not take into consideration if they have to strike down a man, woman nor child if they gain from it. Thus it would be a crime against Godan if we where to put these witnesses and their loved ones in danger. THE JURY The jury itself shall consist of the members of the Tribunal offices and their Cardinal Judges. it will be under the command and word of the Auditor of the Tribunal and his word shall be final and absolute. In the case of a missing member of the Tribunal, the Auditor can see it to elect someone who steps into the role of that missing role or holds the position abstained. THE CRIMES On the day of first amber cold a horrid and blasphemous crime was committed within the cathedral of the Ex Godfrey. Not only was this crime against Imperial Law, but a crime against our faith, a crime against Him, the one true Creator. During the General Audience held by his Holiness Jude II. our Vicar of God, a General Audience that ended up as his last public Audience before his Holiness was brutally murdered during the time he was taking the confessions of our noble canonist flock. This is a crime that there is no turning back from, a crime against the Canonist flock as a whole and each and every person, nation or organization who calls themselves Canonist or believes in Him. Not only where our beloved High Pontiff Jude II murdered in cold blood, His body has also been stolen after the murder. The bodies of the Vicar of God do not belong in some ditch, nor as a trophy for those who have committed the crime. He belongs with the church, in the halls of those who came before him. where he shall lay at peace until the seven skies shall come from all of us. The fact of his body being stolen will forever be seen as one of the worst cases of theft in the History of our Holy Mother Church, a crime that will not be forgotten nor forgiven. The crimes committed go as follows.. TITLE III. Crimes against ecclesiastical authorities. §1 A person using excessive physical force against the Pontiff incurs excommunication. Members of the clergy may incur greater penalties depending on the severity of the crime. §2 A person who further uses excessive force against a bishop or cardinal are to face a just penalty as decided by an ecclesiastical court. §4 A person joining a group plotting against the church are to face a just penalty as decided by an ecclesiastical court. §9 Those who see it fit to insult or threaten a member of the clergy. These individuals are guilty of the crime of indignity. Let it be known that if the Organization does not show to this trial they will by default be punished with the worst punishment that the Holy Mother Church can grant. That of being declared excommunicate and anathema. SIT PERDUCAT NOS PATRIS LAPIS, AMEN. "May the stone father guide us, Amen" Johan Vuiller “Horens Giant” Head of House Vuiller, Auditor of the Tribunal. Knight-Regent Emeritus. Knight of the Black Sepulchre. Protector of the Church of the Canon and her faithful The Trial shall find place on the 1st of Horens folly within the Imperial City of Providence. [THIS SATURDAY 5.06.2021 TIME: 5:30PM EST]

ON FLAMENISM, OWYNISM & LUCIENISM By, Father Raymond Adhemar de Bar, FSSCT ‘Transfiguration of Peter’ “God’s Law is simple: keep my Flame and scatter the Deceiver’s darkness.” - Lections of Ex. Owyn Prophet Owyn, son of Godwin, pray for me. May God’s Will be done. Know, dear reader, that my hands are calloused hands and my mind is not a Virosi’s mind, I am but a mere brother of the Reformative Monastery in Ulmsbottom. My work is not a scholar’s work but one of a poor brother who toils to aid his fellow Man. Therefore expect neither lyrical prose nor masterful poetry. I am moved by holy providence to write upon a topic that is often misinterpreted even by my brother priests and the public at large. It is not uncommon to hear, see and read polemics targeted against those who might call themselves Flamenist, particularly my Owynist and Lucienist brethren. Lily-livered appeasers and cowardly clerics will often decry our strictness and discipline, “Oh what of the pagan! What of the gentile!” they cry, worried that some imagined gentile might be offended by God’s truth. Hear here and now, oh brethren of mine: the pagan cares not if you preach tolerance and falsehoods, but Iblees will gladly devour your soul! Heed my word, then brothers of mine, read and enlighten your hallowed minds, for the Flamen path is not one of brutality and war, but rather one of diligence, discipline and mortification. I will endeavour to educate my brethren in the ways of Owynism and Lucienism, their history, teachings and disciplines, so that we might not see any more lies being spoken of us by our very own. Then, my dear reader, you may ask yourself: ‘you have spoken of Owynism and Lucienism and Flamenism, what then do you mean?’ In truth, there is little difference. Flamenism, at its core is the worshipful reverence and following of the Exalted Owyn’s example. The great prophet’s journey on this word can be summarized thusly: be pure, vanquish darkness, worship God. What does it mean then, to be pure? Quite simply, it is to follow God’s Law as given to Exalted Horen. What does it mean then, to vanquish darkness? Quite simply, it is to persecute sin, be it internal or external. What does it mean then, to worship God? Quite simply, it is to pray, fast and give right reverence to He-Who-Is according to the prescripts of Owyn’s Church. Flamenism is active, never passive. Flamenism prioritizes action over words. That, dear reader, are the trappings of Flamenism, and all who practice it may be rightly called Flamenists. Then, both Owynism and Lucienism can be rightly called Flamenist sects. The very basis of their ideals are rooted in the main three aspects of Flamenism. What then be their differences? I will at first detail their communalities: Right Belief Both sects hold God to be One and accept His Prophets. Lay Preaching Both sects hold to the primacy of the Believer. Sanctity of Marriage Both sects hold to the saintliness of the married state and it’s gendered roles. Martial Reverence Both sects hold to the high ideals of Just War. Human Purity Both sects hold to the belief that Mankind are God’s chosen people, decrying miscegenation. Regular Worship Both sects hold to the convening of regular ablutions and religious liturgies. These are the aspects held in common by both Owynists and Lucienists. In certain cases particular beliefs take on a larger emphasis; for example, in the Westerlands, Owynist clergy, known as the ‘Lectors’ were overwhelmingly laymen, while Savoyard Owynists in the Blackwald held to a more collegial clericalist position. So while all the aforementioned beliefs are the pillars of both Owynism and Lucienism certain aspects may take on greater or lesser emphasis depending on the needs and customs of the believers. Now, Owynism and Lucienism are not synonymous. There are very distinct differences between the two sects, likely owed to the fact of their differing history. Owynists were mostly of Kaedreni extraction, being loyal to the Chivays, while Lucienists, being members of a Holy Order, favoured the pre-eminence of the Pontiff over any lay-ruler. That is why the main difference betwixt these two sects of Owyn are rooted in ecclesial polity and not dogma. Caesaropapism The Owynist belief that God’s anointed ruler is supreme over the High Pontiff. Pontifical Infallibility & Authority The Lucienist principle that the High Pontiff is God’s chief priest and therefore above secular power. These are the two main points of contention. With the rise of the Chivays to imperial purple, and the end of the cursed Darfeyist Pontificate Caesaropapism rose to prominence. Spearheaded by Basil of Sabris and Simon of Khazav, their ‘Reformed Communion’ instanted Caesaropapism into official doctrine, making the reigning Chivays ‘Vicergents’ of the Church. Caesaropapism, however, proved to be a great failure. The Church stagnated and the Chivays proved themselves incapable of governing both secular and religious affairs. After the end of the Chivay regime and the rise of Canonism in 1471, the Lucienist polity had its chance at pre-eminence within the ecclesial regime. However, the Lucienists in Aesterwald quickly came into conflict with the High Pontiff due to his Raevir heritage, rejecting, in part, both his Infallibility and Authority. This was the first nail. The second came with the Second Diet of Metz in 1534, wherein the Church, under Johannian duress, renounced Pontifical Infallibility. This is to say that both divergent views have failed. Time and time again secular rulers have shown themselves incapable of tackling both divine and profane government. Pontiffs who declare themselves to be the Voice of God on Terra often prove themselves to be madmen, like Daniel III of cursed memory. Today, by God’s providence, both Flamenist branches do not concern themselves with petty questions of government. They exalt their fellow Man in God’s light, through the Prophets, keeping to the flaming covenant of Owyn. This unity is nothing short of the Lord’s divine plan. History has shown us to be petty creatures, capable of squabbling even when more unites us than divides us. Therefore let us cry out: DEUS misericordia est! This, dearest reader, has been the short compendium on Flamenism and the brother sects of Owynism and Lucienism. Their pillars tell us more about the nature of Flamenism. Often we are decried as radicals and zealots. Know that we are nothing if not poor sinners, attempting to craft ourselves in the image of our Prophet. Sometimes we are called to just war, yes, sometimes we are called to purge those who offend God, just as Owyn had, but the core of Flamenist doctrine is not to persecute the wicked, but to persecute our own sin, first and foremost. This is the first law of Flamenism: hate sin! Exhortation: Now I speak to my Flamenist brethren. I look out at the world, through the small window in my cell in Ulmsbottom. The tranquility of the Reformative Monastery is a true shield against the tribulations of the outside world. Prisoners find peace here within these walls, making their penance with God, and I, a free man, find solace in my fellow man within here, aiding the dredges of society to find salvation. Yet, word reaches me every often, when the whaling ships pass by this quiet isle, trading not only in materials but also in gossip. I hear of degenerates, harlots, troublesome priests. Most troublesome news, such as a noble-woman practicing coitus publically and worrisome pontifical elections. This is what spurred me to action, this is why I pen this short essay now. What is needed most is a revival of the Flamenist ideals. What does a man gain by preaching tolerance to libertines? What does a man gain by preaching freedom in sin? Truly, humanity, God’s chosen people, need not a carrot, but a stick. Therefore I beseech you brethren, be you cleric or lay, follow in the steps of the Prophet, follow in the steps of his disciples also: Saints Thomas, Peter, Lucien, Adrian, Michael. My second request, brothers and sisters, is a simple request: unity. Now, more than ever, is no time to bicker and argue, much less amongst the clerics. The Church is the rudder of humanity, how is Man to benefit spiritually when many wish to captain the barque of salvation? Likewise, as Flamenist, it is our duty to bring an united front against the ravages of Iblees. The Archdaemon will wish to sow dissent amongst our ranks, just as he did with Exalted Horen when he sent Saul to our forefather’s camp. Beware, brothers! Beware of the Sauls amongst us! Drive them out and stand a united front against the sins of the age. Fire keep you all. Father Raymond Adhemar, FSSCT

[!] A public letter addressing the Hyspian Public would be distributed to Nueva Tierra and Cartagena It is with a heavy heart and sad circumstances of which I find myself in the position of having to write this letter. Nevertheless the circumstances call for such letter to be written. It is with a heavy heart that I must state that the apostate king of Hyspia has reverted to attacking his own people in an attempt to cling to power. Such attack happened recently on the man of virtue named Carlos Mendez. A man who dedicated much of his life to the nurturing and raising the young prince and dedicated years of his life in selfless service to the Hyspian people. Years of his life of which been repaid by exile, and the baseless allegation of being undead, in an attempt to end the life of one Carlos Mendez. After Carlos was proven innocent Antonio then continued to charge Carlos Mendez with numerous crimes of which he never committed. All in an effort to make Antonio look more powerful and distract from his constant and numerous failings as a leader. So therefore after much time in thoughtful prayer I must cease to even recognize the existence of Red Hyspia and call upon all Hyspians to do the same. Antonio is unfit to be king and lacks the virtue that Cesar Rivera held. Antonio Rivera's crimes are numerous and serious, his reign of terror has resulted in many deaths and attacks on many Hyspians, may GOD bless each and every soul sent prematurely to the seven skies as a result of Antonio's arrogance and selfishness. I was but a young boy when the Canonists first rolled into Osanora to help the Hyspians achieve their sense of identity once more and was ecstatic to have the love of GOD not only enter in my heart but in the heart of Antonio Rivera and all other Hyspians. It was a glorious and happy time, filled with love and optimism. Antonio then crushed those feelings and destroyed that time when he decided to turn his back on the holy mother church, abandoning not just GOD, but Hyspia. I have praid every day sense for Antonio to return back into the light of GOD. Alas, no such day has come. Antonio abandoned the holy mother church for selfish reasons and personal gain, the largest insult to virtue and the people of Hyspia. He then proceeded to send the Hyspians of faith such as the Altamiranos into exile and cast out the Canonist Hyspians out of their homes, their families, their people. How can one claim to be king when he constantly divides and destroys the very people of which he swore an oath to protect and to serve. Antonio has not just betrayed Hyspia, but he betrayed Cesar the man who united Hyspia, little would one know it would be his son to divide Hyspia. When one would think Antonio cannot go any lower, he goes lower, exiling the man who raised and nurtured him through his infancy to adulthood. Then levying false claims against him in an attempt to destroy his name, his heart, and his will. and in turn Hyspians heart, will, and spirit Hyspia will not be broken so easily. Such extraordinary times call for extraordinary people to step up and take the mantel of responsibility of leadership. One such man of virtue and GOD has stood up to help Hyspia, guide it, heal it's people under the guidance of GOD. Such man is Cardinal Francisco, he is the man for the moment. By the grace of GOD Cardinal Francisco helped guide the Hyspians of Virtue to their new home in Cartagena. It is through the grace of GOD that Cardinal Francisco is the rightful ruler and Shepard of Hyspia. Under the guidance of GOD Hyspia shall prosper and it is with a heart full of Joy and optimism that I pledge full and unwavering support to the most Holy leader of Hyspia. Cardinal Francisco. I call upon all Hyspians to do the same to follow the the one true leader of Hyspia, Cardinal Francisco, long live Francisco and GOD bless Hyspia. I now wish that you join me in prayer for a most wonderful and prosperous future. Dear GOD, May we find the strength to overcome this obstacle placed before us. May we emerge stronger and united than ever before, may Hyspia see bountiful harvests and peaceful times. May we forever stay on the path of virtue oh GOD and never stray from it once more. For it is GOD that is most high, GOD that delivers us from our sin, and grants us eternal life in the seven skies, and may GOD deliver us from this crisis and strengthen us on the inside and renewing our resolve to virtue. We ask this in your name. Amen. Peace and long life be with you my Hyspian brothers and sisters. Viva Hyspia, and long live Francisco, the True ruler of Hyspia. Signed, Hernando Altamirano

Portrail of the bottom of the Infieri Pit in the last moments of life for Padre Javier Padre Javier peers down at the endless pit, appearing as if it has no end, Padre froze, signing the Loraine saying “GOD remember me when I come into your kingdom” as the cultists push him down the endless pit. Falling to his death. At his last breath of life, Padre sends one last plea out to GOD. Asking him to forgive the cultists, for they do not know what they do. Padre then closes his eyes, as the ground meets his body. Taking the life out of him, Padre Javier Fransisco-Altamirano, born 1782, only at the age of 26, with a promising future ahead of him died in 1808. Padre Javier was born in 1782 to lost Hyspian soldiers in Arcas and spent his life traveling searching for his home. He then found a group of Hyspians who were settled in Osanora, Javier went down a dark path in life, spending time on feuds, violence and greed. To the point of being exiled from Hyspia, Javier then fell into alcoholism, lust and bitterness, the lowest point in his life. Until one fateful day he received a letter from then Bishop Fransisco of Hyspia, after spending some time Javier had a spiritual revelation, seeing the light he decided to become a man of GOD. Becoming an Acolyte under Bishop Fransisco. Siding with the Hyspians in the schism between Red Hyspia and Canonist Hyspia. Padre Javier spent years evangelizing the word of GOD in providence, rising to be Vicar Providentia shortly before his death. Faithful till the last moment, Javier spent his final moments of life, begging for the forgiveness of others. On the desk of Vicar Providentia lays the last homily of Padre Javier, of a funeral yet to be, “Life, the greatest gift of which GOD has given to us through his infinite love. GOD created us in his own image, gave us purpose, and gave us a plan. But GOD gave us one more gift, the gift of free will. GOD gave us a choice, whether to walk his path, or reject him, GOD gave us a choice whether to be kind or be hateful, and my brothers and sisters. It is up to all of us to choose right. Let us always endeavor to choose right right, for we do not know the time of which GOD will call us back to his kingdom and for those times we fell short of GODs holy mission, let us pray for his forgiveness. Nothing in life is ever permanent, and we must accept that, people will come, people will go, it must be our duty to move with the world. As the scroll of Auspice states “So the horn of GOD pours out upon the world, and it is inundated in the waters of Gamesh. And lo! I see the face of GOD, and from his mouth are falling tomes of prophecy. They are washed out upon the world, and the virtuous are perfected before Him.” For every beginning there is an end, for every sunrise there is a sunset, for every life, there is a death. It is only natural for the passing of souls from this life to the seven skies to take place. It is part of GODs plan, each and every one of us has a time, and we must accept that when the time comes. Let us remember those who went before us, and live a life of virtue for those who will go after us. I thank you for coming today and choosing to listen to the word of GOD. Let us conclude this homily in prayer, Oh GOD help us live a life of virtue, keep us on the right path to virtue, help the sheep that are lost their way and forgive their sins. May GOD bless all those gathered here today, and those who are not. Remember oh GOD we your people when we come into your kingdom and take rest in the seven skies, let us bring light when there is darkness, love where there is hate. Forgiveness where there is mistrust, let the people of GOD say amen. Go in peace, to love and to serve GOD and all of his creations. Blessed be GOD forever. Amen.”

INTERCESSION MAGIC By Viros Intro In the upper reaches of the Seven Skies, a nameless Aengul fulfills an ancient task. He, like all his brothers, was born in an instant: a spirit called forth during the dawn of all things. Unlike them, however, this spirit did not arrogantly burden the perfection of his birth with a name. Nor has he sought mortal worship--and who among all the other Aenguls and Daemons has never manifested, never once spoken? Faithfully, and for untold centuries, this silent servant has intervened in the deaths of the virtuous, calling their souls to his side to live on in glory and power, unified with him in worship of something greater. First was Horen, and all his disciples. More followed; Joren, Owyn, Clement, Godfrey, Adrian, Siegmund, Thomas, Jude, all these and innumerably more entered the Skies under his protection. Together they form the Congregation of Saints, granting the petitions of devoted mortals in the form of miraculous intervention. Intercession Magic is a new Deity magic archetype, specifically designed for members of the Canonist faith. Instead of connecting to a single “deity”, practitioners of Intercession Magic connect to the congregation of exalted, saints, and beatified in the Seven Skies. By supplicating the assistance of these saints, and by remaining virtuous and in good standing with the Church, the practitioner (called an “invoker”) may pray to saints for miracles. These miracles are unique because their outcomes are not under the control of the invoker (although they are under the control of the player); rather, the saint acts and determines all effects directly. Likewise, instead of a broad range of powers relating to a certain motif--such as Illusions, Water, or Healing--each saint grants only a specific set of miracles, relating to their portfolio. This is to allow invokers to access a range of minor abilities reflecting the diversity of the saints, without trespassing on other archetypes. Intercession Magic is divided into three subtypes, each with a rough theme. Ars Notoria are Miracles of Transcendence, which focus on insight, wisdom, and passive resistance. Ars Gloriosa are Miracles of Strength, which focus on displays of pious zeal, unity, and purity. Ars Magna are Miracles of Grace, which focus on healing, protection, and community. Each is associated with one of three Exalted; Ars Notoria with Siegmund, Ars Gloriosa with Owyn, and Ars Magna with Godfrey. The powers associated with the three subtypes are intended to communicate the ethos of their respective Exalted, and inspire players to engage others in Canonist roleplay. Initiation into a subtype is obtained by connection to the Congregation of Saints by the High Pontiff or a member of the Holy Synod (aka the Connector and the Teachers), who may also break a connection. The Congregation of Saints refuses connection to any person already connected to another Deity, and will not brook spiritual contact with anyone outside of the four descendant races. Additionally, undead characters or characters with knowledge of a Dark Arts subtype cannot use or obtain Intercession Magic. Obtaining a Dark Arts subtype or connecting to another Deity instantly breaks an invoker's connection with the Congregation of Saints. Ranks and Rituals Like other archetypes, Intercession Magic is divided into five tiers. Each tier represents increased veneration of the Congregation of Saints, and can only be accessed by dedicated emulation of the virtues of the Exalted, the Saints, and the Beatified. Generally, Ars Gloriosa emphasizes justice and strength, Ars Notoria emphasize wisdom and introspection, and Ars Magna emphasizes mercy and sovereignty. The archetype recognizes three ranks, Connector, Teacher, and Invoker. New Invokers can only be connected to or disconnected from the Congregation of Saints by a Teacher or the Connector. Likewise, new Teachers can only be raised to (or brought down from) that rank by the Connector. At any given time, there exists only one Connector--the High Pontiff. He may, through a sacrament, promote Invokers to Teachers, demote Teachers to Invokers, or sever an Invoker’s connection wholesale. When the Connector’s position is vacant, the living Teachers may assemble and conduct a holy ritual to select a new Connector from among their membership. In order for this ritual to be successful it must constitute the majority of all living Teachers participating willingly. It is important to remember that no Teacher, even when acting with others, can raise or lower someone to the rank of Teacher. Only a Connector may promote or demote a Teacher. When the Connector’s position is filled, the living Teachers may likewise assemble and conduct a different holy ritual which vacates the position of Connector, demoting the current holder to Teacher. It similarly requires a majority of all living Teachers participating willingly. Limitations Intercession Magic cannot communicate the infallible, ineffable will of the Creator, who acts of His own accord without consulting spiritual intermediaries. Neither can it confirm His existence, though the saints believe most fervently. Intercession Magic can communicate the sensible and goodly will of the Exalted, Saints, and Beatified, who will always advise mercy, righteousness, and the strict avoidance of sin. Intercession Magic cannot guarantee the outcome of future events. Although the saints and prophets know much, and can make good guesses, they are far from omniscient. Intercession Magic can make supernaturally accurate predictions and grant knowledge lost to the ages. The Congregation, and the nameless Aengul which lifts them into the Seven Skies, have seen much in their centuries watching over the world. Intercession Magic cannot grant innate power. A practitioner of this archetype humbly requests the aid of the Congregation of Saints, who dispense assistance as they see fit, and do not take presumption lightly. Intercession Magic can allow invokers to make use of incredible abilities that empower them to spread the good word of virtue. An arrogant user, who claims these abilities spring from his own heart rather than the charity of the Skies, may find himself disconnected or worse. A confused user, who worships the Congregation rather than merely asking their help, will only receive a saintly scolding. Intercession Magic cannot perform acts outside of those defined by the tier chart. While all saints and beatified look happily on veneration, they cannot grant new miracles without a subtype revision adding them. Invokers do not ever request a specific act; they simply petition the saint for "zeal", "succor", "protection", or so forth, and the miracle manifests as defined on the tier chart. Intercession Magic can be used in a variety of ways that encourages the user to be creative with the gifts of heaven, rather than make tailor-made miracles for his own purposes. Like all Deity magic, Intercession Magic places a toll upon the body and mind of the user. Constant contact with the Congregation of Saints distracts the mind, turning the invoker’s eye ever towards their realm; they may become preoccupied with particular verses of the Holy Scrolls, or trifling theological details. Likewise, the body becomes physically unimposing, even in practitioners of Ars Gloriosa, who may come to rely on miracles over force of arms. Invokers notice these changes, but generally consider them a sign of favor to be sought out. After all, the temporal world is the abode of sin. Users of Intercession Magic may only request a limited number of miracles. No invoker can petition for more than one miracle of T1 or T2 strength per IG month (RL day). Additionally, no invoker can use more than one miracle of T3, T4, or T5, strength per two RL weeks. While the saints are merciful and generous, they emphasize that miracles alone cannot bring souls to the Seven Skies. Saints and Sinners All members of the Congregation of Saints advise their petitioners to act mercifully and avoid sin. Since all saints are Canonists, they agree on what comprises sin, and--perhaps mistakenly--believe themselves to be correct on the nature of good and evil. To Canonist saints, the most grievous sins are the acts of murder, thievery, sexual immorality (which includes all carnal knowledge outside of marriage), lying, betrayal, apostasy, and idolatry, and the passions of covetousness, wrath, ambition, pride, and indulgence. They advise that while non-humans are permitted to worship foreign gods or no god at all, it is most praiseworthy to worship the Creator. If pressed, they will offer no proof for His existence, though they believe wholeheartedly and will happily profess it; rather, they emphasize faith and prayer. Likewise, while they are aware of the existence of their fellow saints and the Aenguls and Daemons of the Planes, they do not know what force brought them there, or why they were chosen above others. Though they may relate personal experiences, they decline to share any information which may be mistaken for new moral law or history; saints refuse to trespass into the realm of doctrine and dogma. Overall, saints tend to be brief in their interactions with mortals, and do not share anything except mundane (but possibly useful) knowledge, predictions of the future, and frequent reminders to act virtuously. Roleplaying Saintly Intercession Users of Intercession Magic are cautioned to remember that the powers it grants do not arise from the invokers themselves. An increase in tier does not indicate that the invoker is more personally powerful, virtuous, or wise, but rather that they have spent sufficient time contemplating the mysteries of the Seven Skies. As a user’s devotion grows, they become more attuned to the Congregation of Saints and may request more ostentatious interventions; however, no tier grants any inherent power to the invoker. Accordingly, all emotes should indicate that the user first requests a miracle, and second is granted it. No emote should imply that the miracle arose from the invoker’s own will; particularly, invokers should avoid announcing what they want specifically or what the saint should do. Instead, they make a general request, such as for purity, righteousness, guidance, or protection, and the saint responds as defined in the tier chart. This always requires at least three emotes: one where the invoker initiates the prayer or action, one where he or she requests assistance, and one where it is granted. For example: *Father Kristoff kneels in prayer, a copy of the liturgy written in Elvish before him. He prays to Blessed Daniel the Reader for sagacity in language. “Blessed Daniel, I beg your wisdom in sharing these holy words with my flock.” *Father Kristoff opens the book, and miraculously comprehends the foreign language. He reads the Hymn to Exalted Horen in Elvish to his parish. *Holy Ser Arthur leads the gathered levies in a song to St. Emma of Woldzimir, praising her mercy. He looks to the heavens and asks her assistance. “Patroness of battle, we beseech your mercy and counsel. Aid us in this conflict, that we might share the Virtue’s truth.” [!] St. Emma’s benevolent presence can be felt by those participating in the song. She will surely guide their hand in battle. *Sister Lydia begins to consecrate the newly-built home, sprinkling holy water at its threshhold. “Oh merciful Lord, we ask that your servant Blessed Thomas Denims protect this household and shield its inhabitants from evil.” [!] An aura of serene devotion descends upon the home. It will stand against strong winds and evil spirits. *Inquisitor Roland circles the room, muttering a prayer to exorcise it of wicked influences and fallen Daemons. Hearing a fell voice, he calls on Exalted Owyn’s purity. “Exalted Owyn, second prophet and nephew of Horen, I call on thee to cast out these enemies of Our Father.” *Inquisitor Roland draws his sword, which now glows with white light. It will certainly wound the supernatural interlopers. “Begone, demons!” *Brother Karl blesses the cauldron of stew meant for the poor, begging St. Tobias for mercy and generosity. “In St. Tobias’ time, friends, it is said that an empty stomach in Kralta was rarer than a chaste elf.” “And may that patron of charity see to our bellies as he has to so many others, in the Lord’s name.” *Brother Karl begins to ladle out stew, finding that the pot does not empty until every bowl is full. Disclaimer Please note that this is a significant departure from normal human religious lore, which focuses on the Creator almost to the exclusion of all else. We realize that is at odds with other server lore, and have accordingly made compromises with the archetype, adding significant ambiguity to the truth of his existence and turning the focus of our religion to the Exalted, Saints, and Beatified. This is not a vehicle for cementing human religious lore in server core lore. The only addition to server lore presented in this archetype is a new Aengul who intercepts particular souls before they enter the soul stream, pulling them to his side in the Aengudaemonic Planes.