Ffh Nes Ii

And the 'chuirp too. I've got some stuff, not really contest material, just old stories that desperately need to be finished and posted. Stuff that chronologically happened a long time ago, but I never got around to writing it all.
 
Some diggers outside struck my neighbourhood's verizon cable so my internet was dead for a few days, BUT I RETURN. Now, story time soon! :D
 
Not really worthy of consideration in any voting, but this story fits within my timeline. More - and better - to come over the next two or three turns.

Spoiler :
It was black. His head still hurt.

He wasn’t quite sure why it was black, or why his mind thought his head “still” hurt. He wasn’t quite sure of anything at the moment, which should have bothered him, but he wasn’t quite sure why.

His thoughts were making the headache worse.

A new thought: perhaps it was black because his eyes were closed? He tried opening one. Nothing happened.

Did his eye actually open? He tried reaching up with a hand to check. Nothing happened. Now he really was a little bothered.

“Kharghus?”

His headache spiked at the unexpected noise. It had been no louder than a whisper (he thought), but even that was enough to nearly make him pass out once again. Worse than that, he wasn’t quite sure if he had spoke, or if someone else had spoke, or who “someone else” could be.

“I know you can hear me, boyo. Time to open those eyes!”

The inflection on the exclamation was almost normal speaking volume, and to Kharghus, it was more like the fourth circle of hell. The pain was great enough to actually cause visions within his eyes. Or, perhaps, they were actually open and he just hadn’t realized it. He was slowly beginning to understand again, and all that mean was that he wanted to pass out again. He was quite sure of that.

“Well, you’re not exactly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but I’ll work. Time to talk to the Big Man, Kharghus. I’ll be right back.”

It could have been thirty seconds; it could have been thirty hours. Needless to say, the wait wasn’t pleasant, since Kharghus was just beginning to feel his extremities again and they all hurt. He could now feel his eyes, and where he’d poked himself earlier.

“Why, good evening, dear Priest!”

The damned headache again. He supposed he should say something, but he wasn’t sure if he could – and was less sure that he’d survive the experience. A part of him wanted to try anyway.

“Hmmm… not in a speaking mood, eh? I suppose it might have something to do with your current, uh, state. Let’s see what I can do. I was never the greatest healer, but I’m good at ending things. Like pain.”

Kharghus dimly felt a hand touch his forehead, and seemingly enter it, grab the pain and tear it out. The process didn’t hurt, exactly, but it was uncomfortable. He tried commanding his body, and realized that it was obeying again. More or less. His eyes opened fully, and he gazed up at his god.

Death had changed. Apparently he’d gotten sick of wearing black – or maybe he’d just found a dead person with decent clothes to steal – since he was now wearing a slightly plain, but clean, red cloak over an off-white tunic. There was some jewelry, as well: a necklace or two, a ring, a bracelet. All of them were gold, but decorated in obsidian instead of rare stones. His physical appearance had altered a bit too; he’d gotten some wrinkles, grown out a neat beard, his hair had faded to gray. Looking at him, he could have been a regular person on the street… but Kharghus strongly doubted anyone would ever make that mistake.

First, there were the eyes. Dark gray, almost black, and with some dim flecks of gold within them. His face, while aged, was a little too perfect – not artificial, but any regular person with his appearance would be the epitome of handsome. But the real proof was his aura. He felt like a god. It was impossible to describe – some mix of confidence, power, wisdom, omniscience, and much more.

Kharghus had seen his god before, in Adam’s presence. He’d been the High Priest of Death’s cult. He’d traveled across an entire continent at this being’s whim. And yet, looking at Death now, it was the first time that he’d felt awe, or a sense of worship, belief in the figure before him. He was tongue-tied.

“Well. That wasn’t so bad. Now, Kharghus, I feel that I have an apology to make to you.”

“An… apology?” Kharghus’ voice sounded rusty. “For what, lord?”

Death smiled. “Please, do not call me ‘lord’. You are my High Priest, after all. We have not, perhaps, spoken as much as we should, but if any soul other than Adam has the right to call me by my true name, it’s you. Laroth is fine, or you can be like your king and name me Death.”

Kharghus was even more flabbergasted, but he gave a small nod. He didn’t know what he’d expected from this conversation, but this was most certainly not it.

“Alright. Now, as to what I have to apologize for… there are a couple things. First, that I sent you off on that failed trip to the Corbus. It wasn’t necessary, and it was undoubtedly a hardship for you. Second, I apologize for not keeping an eye on Aod when I gave him the job.” Death glanced up, and from the corner of his eye Kharghus could see the white figure he was looking at. “It had not been my intention to give you the job in… that particular fashion.” Death looked again at his angel, who grinned back.

“It…” Kharghus still had trouble talking, for more than one reason. “It is no bother, my l- Death. It may not have been pleasant, but at least it will be a good story to speak of.”

A laugh. “That’s the spirit! However, those aren’t the main reasons I am apologizing. No, I am apologizing because I made a… let us say, slight miscalculation. One that has affected you, and what is a miscalculation to me is something greater to you.” Death’s earlier smile was a sad frown, now. “You see, after sending you out on that farcical mission, I was in rather too much of a hurry to get my Priest back. Instead of letting you come back as you left, I sent Aod to retrieve you… and had him use the Nether Planes on the return journey.”

Kharghus’ body stiffened immediately. Death noticed, and the frown grew.

“Yes. I did not think that… well, I did not think. Some planes are easy to travel though, others are… rather more difficult, but all of them extract some cost for a living soul. I did not consider what the cost would be for my own plane, and because of that, you have been changed.”

This was not good.

“Ch… changed, Death?” Still not easy to speak. “In what fashion? I do not feel very different…”

Death motioned to Aod, who nodded and left the room. He looked down at Kharghus once more. “That is because you haven’t exactly left the plane, yet. You see, the cost is that you never will completely leave the plane again. You see, due to the efforts of myself and… some servants of my predecessor… souls that enter my realm are not really meant to leave. Whether or not they’re actually dead.”

Oh. Kharghus felt slightly deflated.

“However, do not despair, good priest! You can still re-enter the world above, and live much as you did before. In fact, what actually happened is not all that much different from becoming a Shade. Should you wish, you can live out your life more-or-less as you did beforehand. I would have saved you the worry and not mentioned it at all, were it not for some of the… side effects.”

“Side effects? Side effects like what?”

Death smiled once again, as Aod returned with a cup. “That is what I am trying to figure out, dear Priest.”

At that, Aod threw the cup’s contents on top of Kharghus, and once again everything returned to black.


Death does not scare me. Everything comes to a natural end at some point. What scares me is the knowledge that all endings are of themselves beginnings; what shall my end be the start of?

Writings of Death - Anonymous
 
Religion (second update- post turn 19)

This is a work-in-progress. Please feel free to suggest edits, especially in regards to those religions that your nation is involved with. Also, if I forgot one or more faiths, please don’t hesitate to mention it and I can try to fix it. Once we are all comfortable with what is written, this page will be accessible as part of the NES’s lore.

Sabelism
Sabelism is an amalgamation of the evolving worship of Junil, the soul of Sabel, who is considered a saint and a hero and minor Bannor saints. It also includes ancestor worship.
Sabelism has evolved considerably over the centuries and what was once known as Junilism and as the ‘cult of saints’ has now been almost completely superseded by this faith.
Sabelist are found only Bannor lands.
The voice the followers of Sabelism hears is weak

Runes of Killmorph
Based on tablets found deep inside the mountains rising near Sabel Upon Gate, the Runes of Killmorph were once more popular, especially shortly after the discovery of the goddess’ teaching but with time and the rise of other religions, in particular the ‘Cult of Saints’ and the ‘Empyrean’ the Runes of Killmorph have weakened considerably.
Rune worshippers are expected to pilgrimage to the site of Odio’s prison if possible and thus there is potential to strengthen this religion if that site could be ‘harnessed’.
The Runes of Killmorph is only adhered to in Bannor lands.
The voice of the Runes of Killmorph is very weak

The Empyrean
Lugus worship has been present in a variety of forms throughout the lands of the Eekin, Kuriotates, Bannor and to a much lesser extent, the Grigori for some time but it is only recently that they have organized themselves into the ‘Empyrean’.
The empyrean, though religious do not have as their primary goal or function the development of their faith. Instead they seek to promote consensus, unity and harmony within and between nations. They have negotiated positions as advisors to the governments of several nations where their primary function is to lobby for consensus between nations and advise nations regarding foreign affairs.
Most recently the Empyrean has gained considerable strength and credibility amongst he population of the Kuriotates city of Averlorn as they have become the mediator of choice in domestic and business conflict.
The voice the followers of the Empyrean hears is weak.

The Cult of Fortune
The Eekin worship Lugus’s archangel Baelious whom they call fortune. The cult is mostly unorganised though recent interaction between the Empyrean and the Cult of Fortune is starting to change that.
For the most part the Cult of Fortune values honesty and integrity, clarity of action and thought, and clear action: reaction relationships.
The cult of fortune has brought honesty and a ‘warrior-code’ or ‘chivalry’ to the Eekin.
More recently the Cult of Fortune has spread to the Sheim and ‘Als though the number of followers remains quite limited.
The voice the followers of the Cult of Fortune hears is weak.

The Undertow
The undertow is a strange religion and its adherents are even stranger. The cult is secretive and those who delve too deeply are marked with confusion, delusions, paranoia and outright insanity.
What is known is that there are races beneath the sea of cephalopod-like creatures who worship the ‘great old ones’ who are said to come from beyond the stars. These great old ones speak to their faithful in visions and whispered dreams and can often impart practical and innovative knowledge but mostly provide glimpses of things too strange, too alien to understand and end up destroying the minds of those who receive their wisdom.
The undertow once seemed to function almost exclusively in Kappa lands where the holy sites were guarded by sweet-smelling giant ‘lily-pad’ like plants. These plants are guarded by altered Kappa who have small water-lilies growing in their skull-bowls with tendrils digging directly into the cranium and presumably affecting their thoughts.
Some undertow cultists, despite the water-lilies growing in the head-bowls have returned to Kappa society and have even provided altruistic services including the founding of an orphanage.
In recent times this religion has been greatly strengthened by the growth of the deep old ones’ voices. The adherents within the Kappa nation have grown bold and much less secretive, they consider themselves the rightful heirs to insight and mysticism. Buoyed by their nation’s acceptance of their faith they have won converts throughout the swamps. Their followers can be found in every profession and every village or farm.
The faith has also spread beyond the borders of the Kappa swamps. There are human and lamia adherents in Kuriotates lands and even a very small group of followers in Halluchuirp and Eekin lands. All these splinter groups operate in extreme secrecy and in small groups, afraid of the publics’ reaction to their strange ceremonies and beliefs.
The exception to this is the very accomplished Master Crafter ‘Sig’ of the Halluchuirp who in recent weeks has openly declared his dedication to the great old ones. At a recent festival held in honour of the Halluchuirp nation this respected member of the Halluchuirp tinkering and academic community was heard to say, “We ar-ar-ar. We ar-ar-ar. We ar-are all so busy ex-ex-ex-examining the function and materials of the ‘Sky-i-i” materials of the “Sky-i-i”, of the “Sky-Golem’ that we have no asked the most ob-obvious question: “Why?” Only the gr-gr-great old ones could have created some-some-some. Created some-some-some. Created some-some-something of such outstanding beauty and com-complexity. And only the great old ones can teach us to do-do-do, teach us to do the same.”

The voice the followers of the Undertow hears has grown to moderate strength.

The Children of Condatis
Previously the Children of Condatis were found almost exclusively in Syrii lands. They teach patience and tranquillity and though associated with water, their holy sites are often found in the hidden valleys between tall mountains within the Syrii islands. These consists of gentle and tranquil retreats filled with pools of serene waters.
The children of Condatis, while not slothful, are certainly not in a hurry to make any decision and their influence on Syrii politics and society has made the Syrii similar.
News of the ‘Cult of the Undertow’ has apparently distressed those Syrii who have become aware of it and there may well be some animosity between the two water-based faiths.
In recent times this religion has been greatly strengthened by the growth of the angel’s voice. Some of the most ancient of the waned amongst the Sidar find great wisdom in the words of Condatis’s teachings and indeed their much extended lifespan provides them with a view-point on time and patience that cannot be matched by the shorter lived races including the Syrii themselves.
Additionally, the faith has also appeared amongst the ancient forests of the white mist elves nation where it has apparently appeared spontaneously and separately from that of the Syrii and Sidar followers. There are few followers amongst the elves but those who do follow the new faith are often associated with fishing or sailing and often take a very long-sighted view of events. The long lifespans of the elves, like the ancient Sidar shades, also provides insights into this faith that cannot be attained by man, dwarf, syrii or corbus.
The voice the followers of the Children of Condatis hears is moderate in strength.

The Foxmen
The Foxmen worship Tali and exist exclusively in Hippus territories and though organized, their structure is very loose and consists mostly of just knowing who the other members are (and getting in touch with them when one needs a place to crash when they drop into the town or village where a fellow Foxman resides).
The Foxmen are strongest amongst the elders of the Hippus. This may because older Hippus have a greater penchant for faith and religion or it may be a favouritism shown upon the aged by Tali.
They encourage religious and racial tolerance and acceptance and are against imposing one’s will on others.
Most recently the lessez-faire attitude of the Foxmen has found fertile ground in the minor tribes that have splintered from Amur, Grigori and Hippus lands to occupy those lands traditionally though ‘unoccupied’ in central and northern Edsunland.
The voice of the Foxmen is weak

Camulos’s Honour
Originally a faith of the Ridge Gnolls conquered by the Hippus, this faith has since spread throughout Hippus military structure and even civilians. It is an unorganized faith that values combat, ritual or actual, violence and strength. It has no patience for weakness or the meek. In the past this faith has been pitted directly against others within Hippus society but in modern times it has weakened considerably even as the Foxmen have strengthened. In addition, civil policing by the Glory-Seekers have done much to combat the adverse effects of Camulos-dedicated street gangs and thugs.
With each passing year this ancient faith loses more and more ground to the Foxmen and other minor religions.
The voice of the Honour is very weak

The Cult of Bhall
Once powerful and popular the Cult of Bhall’s fall has mirrored that of the Clan of Ember. Two prophets have claimed to receive direct visions from the fire goddess but in modern times the only remaining prophet, Ember, though seemingly gifted with immortality, has not been very active in preaching Bhall’s message or promoting her fiery and destructive ways.
The cult of Bhall advocates change and passion but is also associated, to a lesser extent with vengeance and violence.
In modern times the cult of Bhall has mostly withdrawn from Hippus lands, even amongst the bestial races and can be found almost exclusively in Amur where the presence of its prophet may well be the only thing that keeps it from collapsing completely.
The voice of the Cult of Bhall is weak in Amur lands and very weak elsewhere.

The Cult of Flesh
Advocating hedonism in all its forms, the cult of flesh is the opposite of so many of its sister religions who demand discipline and sacrifice. Its teaches to deny oneself none of the pleasures of this earth. Simply that there may or may not be a heaven for the mortal soul and regardless, to make one’s existence here in creation as close to heaven as one can imagine.
The Cult of Flesh operates most openly and is strongest in Amur and Sheim lands but in recent years it has made very modest in-roads into Hippus society where it is often associated with over-indulgence in good food and rich red wine.
The cult also has a business aspect- the creation of Amur ‘markets of pleasure’ have created a legal and regulated means of buying and selling sexual favours. The cult of flesh has been an integral part of ensuring the success and spread of these markets and their patrons have become easy marks for indoctrination and the spread of the faith.
The voice the followers of the ‘Cult of Flesh’ hears is weak.

The Long Knives
Originally a tool of assassination and terror employed by the 1/2 –orc inquisitor Evavi Gohan at the ‘relative’ height of the clan of ember’s might, there is no mistaking that the organization had religious overtones. Its members were loyal to an ideal that extended beyond creation and more-than-willing to lay down their lives to complete their tasks.
What god(s) or angel(s) the long knives served exactly is unknown though most suspect it was Bhall, due to the use of the long knives by Bhall’s prophet Ember.
Today the Long Knives are suspected of being either non-existent or almost completely so.
Nothing is known about the current activities of this organization and it is most probably disbanded.

The Cult of The Storm-Bringer
The cult of Leucetious, also known as the storm-bringer, is found only amongst the Corbus. Its customs and teachings remain, for the most part, a mystery to outsiders.
(teach us more Vruchten)
The voice of the cult of the Storm-Bringers is weak

The Cult of The Egg


The Cult of the Egg is growing very rapidly within the land of the corbus. All parts of society are influenced by it. There are followers in the farming area, in the capital and even lots of slaves are following it.
The followers actually believe that the Egg was layed by Dagda after a night of love with Succelus.
The ggs itselsf is impressive in a way which is difficult to understand for a human mind. The holy Egg is laying in a small nest, guarded and warmth by the priesthood. It is surrounded by some sort of aura, some sort of glowing around it. The followers say the egg is being breed already since centuries. They believe that once the egg is cracked a messiah will enter creation and bringi life and balance to the world.
The voice the followers of the Cult of the Egg hears is very weak


The Fellowship of Leaves
The worship of the nature god Cernunnos (and to a lesser extent the god of life Sucellus) remains somewhat popular in isolated parts of Hippus culture and to a much lesser extent amongst the White Mist Elves. Once it was widely spread amongst the Ir-O-Kee but with the disappearance of these people, the Fellowship of Leaves has taken a grievous blow it may never fully recover from.
The fellowship of leaves holds the tomb of Sucellus as a holy site and many of its followers pilgrimage to the site (bring wealth and tariff taxes to elven coffers) though the recent upheavals in this land have greatly reduced these visitations.
The fellowship of Leaves holds the artefact known as ‘The White Knives of Sucellus’ as a holy relic though knowledge of this item is only just beginning to be known amongst the cult who had no previous record of its existence.
In recent years, isolated and remote groups of Kappa operating at the fringes of their ancestral swamps have begun to turn to this faith as an alternative to the disturbing mumbling and ranting of the Undertow
The voice the followers of the Fellowship of Leaves hears is very weak.

Blossoms of Mercy
The blossoms of mercy, previously known as the Sisters of Sirona in Grigori, Halluchuirp and ‘Als lands has now consolidated under the substantial organisation of the ‘Blossoms of Mercy’ headquartered in Freetown. The blossoms run a dedicated abbey surrounded by a beautiful plum tree orchard where sick and wounded individuals can come to recuperate and where orphans and victims of abuse can come to find support and shelter.
In recent times their extensive efforts in helping to heal wounded soldiers and to return these soldiers to active duty has done much to strengthen their influence amongst the Halluchuirp military.
The Blossoms of Mercy, perhaps surprisingly, were very popular with a select group of ‘Als noblemen and women who’s altruistic aims were at odds with their slaver government. This led to open raids and warfare between the Sisters of Sirona (as they were called at the time) and the ‘Als government. For a long time they ran a secretive faction who’s duty it was to free slaves and help them escape ‘Als lands and find homes amongst the shadowed ‘Hallowed Woods’.
In more recent times the sisters have abandoned violence, reformed under a new name, and organized themselves in a new way such that their focus is on political lobbying and winning the support of the public sector.
In Grigori lands the Sisters of Sirona have only just recently been contacted by the Blossoms of Mercy but the superior organization and resources of the Blossoms have effectively made the Sisters in Grigori lands subservient to the Blossoms, a distant chapter of their ‘franchise’.
In addition to their strong presence in the lands of the Halluchuirp and Grigori, they can also be found in Kuriotates, Kappa, Amur, Hippus, Bannor and, operating from hiding, in ‘Als lands.
Plum blossoms are sacred flowers to the followers of Sirona.
The voice the followers of the Blossoms of Mercy hears is weak

The Cult of Artists
The Cult of Artists worship the ‘muse’, a name they give to Amathion. Their also consider butterflies a sacrosanct insect.
The cult of artists formed around a divinely-inspired monument built long ago in Avelorn. Since that time the support and sponsorship of artists by rich businessmen has waxed and waned periodically but the lack of real muses or divine-inspiration of late have meant that the cult has suffered recently.
Though weakened, the Cult of Artists remains a potent political force in Kuriotates politics as council-members often equate the cult with Kuriotates identity and culture and use it as an excuse to further one cultural project or another (the most recent being the development of poetry)
Surprising the bard Bjork has caused a revival of the cult amongst some members of Sidar society. It remains to be seen what effect this will have.
The voice the followers of the Cult of Artists hears is very weak

The Scholars
One of the oldest faiths to be re-established since the age of ice is the ‘Scholars of Oghma’. They are mostly limited to Amur where they are considered a state religion. While many of the priests of this faith are mostly recluses who can be found in libraries and monasteries throughout the lands of Amur, many more take an active role in running the Amur government and nation. The scholars can be found amidst the ranks of city officials, military and judiciary.
The Scholars have good relations with the Bronze owl.
The voice the Scholars hears is weak

The Cult of Kanna
Often confused with the worship of Ceridwen, the Cult of Kanna is a unique entity found only (to date) in ‘Als lands where it is state sponsored and very active.
Acolytes of the Cult of Kanna demand ritual flogging and torture of slaves and others provided to them. It is said that the cultists of Kanna were originally contacted by the angel herself and promised great rewards if only they could complete a ritual to bring great pain to wide multitude of people at the same time.
This ritual, called the ritual of the brand, was attempted but interrupted by ‘the Labyrinth’, secretive followers of Sucellus who, in attempting to interfere with the ritual doomed their faction to destruction. None-the-less the Labyrinth were mostly successful and the ritual was no where as powerful as it was planned to be.
Despite this, the Cult of Kanna has grown and its acolytes are now in direct contact with those Sheim priests dedicated to Cerwiden, a pact that can only strengthen both faiths.
The voice the followers of the Cult of Kanna hears is moderate in ‘Als lands and weak elsewhere.

The Cult of Cerwiden
Unique to the Shiem, the cult of Cerwiden is distinct from that of the Cult of Kanna.
It is broken into two forms (detailed here[/url), the first is the Daughters of Os-Gabella which is made up only of women and has very elite requirements of its members. The daughters provide useful everyday religious services (like marriages, funerals etc) and are generally thought of as wise-women.
The 'Open Path' is available to both men and women and is more involved in knowledge and research though they also provide useful social services such as orphanages etc. The 'open path' is perhaps most notable for its member's habits of self-mutilation and scarring and for many, knowledge and pain cannot be differentiated.
As an interesting aside, the dark space between the stars, the great 'beyond', the 'dark void' is a holy symbol of sorts for the 'Open Path' though not for the Daughters.
In recent years the opening of the portal to the ‘Sea of Salt’ a sort of hell-pocket, has greatly strengthened the domestic influence of the ‘Open Path’ amongst the members of the Sheim public though the religion is still not popular beyond the Pale Isle.
The voice the Open Path devotees hears is weak.

The Servants of Inequitude
A secretive group, the servants of inequitude, followers of Mammon, encourage greed and the accumulation of wealth at the expense of other’s fortunes. Many forces are being indirectly manipulated by the servants, while even more serve Mammon indirectly without knowledge of their service.
Because of the secrecy surrounding this group its principle locations and bases of operation are unknown
The voice the servants of inequitude hears is weak.

The Cult of Grey
A cult of death, the ‘grey’ are a unique Sidar religion is based on a highly organized hierocracy and a monument to their power and that of death itself, the ‘grey arch’.
Whether the ‘Cult of Grey’ serves Arawn directly or some other identity (scholars suggest the wizard Lorath) remains a mystery known only to the Sidar, a mystery they may have done much to obfuscate.
The Cult of Grey has little influence outside Sidar lands but is central to every facet of Sidar existence; some say that the Grey’s angel, some representative of the soul’s rest walks amongst the Sidar as some sort of high-priest or god-king.
Again, the truth is known only the Sidar themselves.
The voice the followrs of the Cult of Grey hears is weak in Sidar lands but very weak elsewhere.

The Ashen Veil
While rumours of this cult have begun to surface, no government has yet identified any organized cult within their borders. And yet the persistence of the rumours suggest that this demon-worshipping cult is active… somewhere.
The voice the Ashen Veil hears is very weak

The Bronze Owl
A fairly recent development, the Bronze Owl is a faith dedicated to Nantosuelta, patron of families and of mending. During the Halluchuirp repair of the ‘sky-golem’, formal prayers were offered to this deity and when they were answered, the faith blossomed. Priests of the bronze owl now perform marriages, and provide various blessings throughout the Halluchuirp nation.
The voice the Bronze Owl hears is weak
 
Onto the Cult of the Egg

To my dear old friends from university. Last month i wrote a little bit about the Cult of the Egg. But i also had to say that i did not understand it at the time. Now i spend most of my time lately lately to have a proper look into it. By that most of my prior assumptions turned out to be wrong.

First thing to say is, that it surely is the Cult which is growing the most rapid within the land of the corbus. All parts of society are influenced by it. There are followers in the farming area, in the capital and even lots of slaves are following it.

Last time i wrote that the cult is probably devoted to Succelus. That turned out to be just partly true. The followers actually believe that the Egg was layed by Dagda after a night of love with Succelus. I do not know if that is true, but their surely is a spiritual aura around that egg.

Yes, because I managed to get the trust of the priesthood i got "as an outsider" the permission to enter the lair of the cult. It was impressiv in a way which is difficult to understand for a human mind. The holy Egg is laying in a small nest, guarded and warmth by the priesthood. Like i said, there is some sort of aura, some sort of glowing around it. The followers say the egg is being breed already since centuries. They believe that once the egg is cracking a messiah is entering the creation and is bringing life and balance to the world.
 
Interesting, but I still don't understand why my religion is so much weaker then the religions of other nations. I have monastries, I did that Junil Parade a little while ago, surely these things increase the strength of it?

Also, The Cult of Saints and Junilism were essentially merged a long time ago to become modern Sabelism. The worship of Saints is still extremely important within the religion, but Sabel is the most well-known and idolised. Most other saints are fairly localised, with only a few being known outside the Church all across the nation. But anyway my point is that ''The Saints Cult'' is a pretty obsolete name.

As soon as my exams are done I will continue my Sabel Story, and the next chapters discuss the Bannor government and religion which will help clarify some things.
 
The voice of the religion does not reflect its followers' strength, merely the voice of the gods and how often/clear their followers hear their teachings directly or indirectly. Its based not on monastaries and abbeys and those things but on the mana that is associated with your god.
 
Can a religion be ascociated with more then one mana type? Sabelism has a couple right now, but I could just use the main one if it has to be just one.

EDIT: I find it strange that religion and Arcane Magic are so interlinked actually.
 
@EKO:

three of the religions are associated with more than one mana type.

I don't find it strange. mana i a product of creation and a link to something beyond the material world. it is a key to miracles.
Just like the gods.

(lorewise- the fact that there is a mana associated with each god says plenty about the association of mana and religion)
 
Yeah of course, but I personally think that Arcane and religious Magic are more seperated and defined. Mages are not Priests. They have different methods, different motives etc, and while religious channeling is controlled by the God, Arcane channeling is very much out of their hands. For example, just look at Arawn. ''Priests'' of Arawn have no magic abilities in cannon lore because Arawn simply isn't interested in Creation these days. Religious types cannot use Death related magic through channeling their God's Sphere. However, Mages can use Death magic because they channel from a plane of death mana not related to the God of Death.

As far as I know this is how cannon lore explains it.

While I accept that a mana node would affect the world by channeling its mana type into Creation, in my opinion it wouldn't affect the God's power on Erebus. That can only be affected by their number of followers and their abilities I think.
 
You're probably right- you know the lore way better than i do.

But i'm gonna be stubborn and do it this way just because i like the system. Some game design is based purely on personal taste and i guess this is one of them. Its not like it changes things much. its not like your priests will be any more or less powerful within your nation (maybe it will story-wise but it won't game wise), it mostly just controls how far/fast the faith spreads.
 
I'll be out of town this weekend (again, ugh...) so if you have diplo with the Kappa, do it by 4:00 US Central (GMT-6:00)
 
Haha I'm no lore expert (I don't even play that silly FFH game), anyway I'm not asking you to adopt my interpretation. Some things should be based on mod preferance, there's no need to stick 100% to cannon lore.
 
okay- coolio.
 
Day One:
Spoiler :
As required to advance to the position of Scholar, a Sabbatical Thesis must be produced. This journal serves as a record of my research; may Oghma bless me with prudent wisdom.

When I was originally assigned sabbatical in the Kuriotate city of Kwythellar, I was given the rather mundane task of categorizing the various races and their specializations within the Kurio society. However, last night I had a very curious encounter. In the bazaar, a caravan of desert nomads had set up their wares, and it was in that dimly lit tent that I met Abdul Alhazred, the mad Malak. He claimed to have recently come from Kappa lands, and he showed me the most peculiar book. It was bound in the strangest leather I have ever encountered, and covered in runes unpleasant to behold. Most of the writing in it was unintelligible gibberish, but it clearly was a tome of power. I attempted to purchase it from him, but he would not see logic. He said that it was his burden to bear, and that they would not allow his suffering to end. No amount of haggling would produce any other reaction, but I did get him to reveal where he had gotten it. Kappa Towah, the second swamp of the odd fish-people of the Western Shores. It seems to be associated with the cult of Undertow that has taken hold in Kappa lands. Since my current assignment is barely suited for a Student and the archives hold very little knowledge of foreign cults, I officially reassign myself to research the origins of this book.

Day 31:
Spoiler :
After weeks of fairly miserable travel, I have arrived at the outer swamps of Kappa Towah. A note to the Scholarii Tenurus: more emphasis should be placed on teaching how unpleasant swamps really are. This is a horrid and unnatural place. The impossibly heavy rain falls constantly, only ceasing a few days a month. Those days are filled with a fog so thick a man could get lost in his own home. The insects here are the size of rats, and they fear neither man nor beast. There is a sickly smelling plant that keeps them away, but the stench permeates everything. I have not been dry since I left Kuriotate lands, and every single meal since then has been fish. Many times I have thought to return to my old assignment in Kwythellar, but I cannot get the laughing face of that Malak out of my mind. I have been drawn to this place, and I must find the origin of that book before I can leave.

The locals have been very kind, offering me room and board during my stay. They are exceedingly polite, but they insist that there is no such thing as the Undertow. They claim that it is an old matron’s tale to scare Kappa children away from the deep swamps, and it has been misinterpreted by foreigners, ‘dry-landers’ like myself.

I tried pressing one of the younger kappan about the Undertow yesterday when he was giving me a tour of their fishing traps, and he got very agitated. He said the only thing a dry-lander ever finds in the deep swamps is a long nightmare and a quick death. He quickly proved his point by stopping me from stepping on an alligator I mistook for a log. I was beginning to think that this expedition was a mistake until I found my first clue. This morning I woke to find a water lily floating in a clay bowl by my bedside. No Kappa host would enter his guest’s room at night without permission – they wouldn’t wake a man if the house was on fire unless they had breakfast waiting. I think that young man was trying to give me a hint on where to look next.

On a different note, I think the lack of sunlight is beginning to affect me. I had the most horrible nightmare last night. The details are fading from memory, but I still remember the sensation of being dragged to the crushing depths below the sea. Right before I awoke, I turned to see an enormous, tentacled … thing open its single, pale green glowing eye. The weight of that gaze on my soul was heavier than the ocean above me. At that moment, I felt as if through me the entire human race was judged, and found wanting. I should ask the house matron if they have any herbs that aid in sleep…


Day 45:
Spoiler :
Breakthrough! I have found the entrance to the Undertow’s lair. The lily was the key. I carry it with me at all times to remember its scent. Curiously, it does not seem to wilt or fade even though it has been out of water for a week. I encountered its familiar scent at the market two days ago, and I tailed the perfumed kappan to a pool in the swamps. The pool was ringed with water lilies, and in the center was a flower nearly the size of a horse. The air was thick with its nectar, and I was almost overwhelmed with ecstacy – I cannot imagine how I managed to bear the stench of the swamps before I found my lily. After the kappan slipped into the water, I waited in hiding for his return, but he did not surface. After I was sure he was not coming back up, I approached the water and slipped into the pool myself.

The depth of the pool reminded me of the dream I had when I first found my lily, but it did not take me long to find the entrance to the catacombs. Imagine my surprise when I came across a network of dry caves under the surface of the swamp! I took Scholar Fulton’s class on Natural Fluidics, and so I know the impossibility of these caverns, but none the less, I was there. The caves are lit by a fungus on the walls that emits a sickly green light that confounds the senses. I quickly found a dark corner to hide in and began my observation of the cult members.

The cult seems to have a hierarchy build around ‘the lilied’ as I call the ones with a water-lily growing in their head-bowls. Typically, there are about three lilied to every normal kappan. The kappans are caretakers for their flowered masters and seem to hold them in great reverence. Why, I do not know, for the flowered ones do not show any signs of interest in this world. They shamble about, seemingly at random, all the while mumbling incoherently to themselves. Occasionally, a lilied will shout out a line of gibberish to the air, and the kappan caretakers will write it down with great reverence on the side of a clay jar, and then smash it. Some prime examples of this nonsense: “Topping of fish, pan-water among the leaves of chairs and running, running to up and knives inside-out” and “Hens without hair, antipode of the blackened white wishes of a frog sized wave of lichen, head to road buried answers.” I remained hidden for several hours, but I could not discern any kind of organized worship or rituals. There was an almost hypnotic chaos about it though, and I wish to return to see more.


Day 52:
Spoiler :
Last night I ventured further into the caverns. My mind balks at what I saw, and yet I must recall it, for this record must be kept. Deep into the caves I went, much further than before. I would not have dared, but for a fortunate accident. I had tried to climb an outcropping to get a better view when I slipped and fell into the path of an oncoming lilied and its sycophantic entourage. If they even noticed me, they certainly did not care – over my body they stepped and onward into the dark. With this newfound freedom to roam unmolested, I pressed on. The light in those caverns plays tricks with the mind, so the visions playing in the shadows were of no interest. Those visions have followed me out of the caves as well, so I must avoid the darkness. Sleep is now unbearable, and it has been three days that I have been absent the dreamscapes of my torment. My lily tells me that this too shall pass, and that gives me some comfort.

It was my lily that led me to the abomination in the central cavern. I could feel it pulling against my tunic, in the pouch I have kept it these three weeks. The path sloped downward for many paces before it opened to a great central chamber, and at the far wall of that chamber was the abomination that has not left my vision since. A mass of vines and tendrils, bursting with water lilies of all sizes was growing along the wall. Spread throughout the vines were clusters of what looked like seedpods. At the center of the column of fauna was a face, all too familiar to me. It was the face of Abdul Alhazred, the mad Malak who sent me on this accursed journey. His eyelids had been sown open by the tendrils of the plant, and his mouth was locked in a twisted scream by the vines pouring from his throat. In his hands he still held the tome of power, the Necrinomicon, bound in human flesh and cursed with magic not of this world.

I fled from that cavern in a panic so complete I feared I would never regain my senses. I fear this place is driving me mad, and I must return to Amur to report my findings. Tomorrow night, I will enter the caverns one final time to gather a seedpod of the sacred lilies so our alchemists can study them in safety.


Day unknown:
Spoiler :
Damn these sisters and their tortuous mercy! They have taken my Lily from me and kept me locked in this hospital room with my visions. They say I was found wandering the swamps in a daze, that Sirona calmed my mind but too much damage was done, but I think they fear what I know. Without my Lily to protect me, the visions are becoming stronger. I need to return to the caverns to get another Lily, and to unlock the mysteries of the Great Old Ones. The colors have left my waking life, and only in my dreams do I find beauty, horribly otherworldly beauty that this reality cannot match. I must escape these jailers of mercy and claim my place at the altar of knowledge. It is my right as an Oghman!


Day is the dullness the night cures:
Spoiler :
I…I think I killed them.

The sisters, there was so much blood. I wanted to leave but they stopped me I think. Was it a dream?
The blood was red. Red has left from everywhere but my dreams, so it wasn’t real.

I am a dream. I am a dream of the Old Ones, and when they awaken, I will be real.
R
E​
A​
L​
I still have the headsister’s hand. I keep it in a pouch under my tunic. Hee hee, they took my LILY so I took something of theirs. They can have it back when I find another flower. Another LILY.

It won’t be long. I have a new friend, a little green shoot growing out of my ear. She whispers to me at night, when I leave this world for the colored lands of my dreamscape. She’s leading me back to a pool in a swamp where the rest are. Where the rest of my friends are. Where the Old One lives.


Ngywethagr Y'dayrothap*:
Spoiler :
Phinglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn!

*Sincerest apologies to H.P. Lovecraft
 
Yes- very definately awesome.

My favorite line:
"The weight of that gaze on my soul was heavier than the ocean above me."

but i like the first very innocent reference to the lily telling him what to do too... oh... how i love this story!

For those that don't know:
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