Catalyst Quest: Death Defiant & Catalyst Quest: Panacea
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Chapter 9: Righteous Is Our Cause
Alaric
⠀
Chapter 9: Righteous Is Our Cause
Starlight winks at you from beyond the tower's high windows. Halfway to falling asleep— even while sitting upright— you blearily smile to yourself.
I'd consider this a win.
You had a pretty damn fine day. Letting your friends get some rest is the least you can do, after all that they've done for you.
You all settle down on the floor with piles of blankets and pillows to spare. It reminds you all so much of your exploration within the ruins of Ostedholm that you have to take a few extra moments before bed to reminisce. Not long after, you're greeted by the sound of your friend's drunken snoring.
While you drift off to sleep, you think of gardens and Goddesses. Getting Mercy and Agriculture to swoon from a single name.
The Ray Nursery is too damn cute. Just think of how They'll react to hearing it.
You fall asleep with a smile on your face.
No one visits you in the darkness.
The next morning, you share a happy but brief breakfast with Serpent, Chesty, and Father Wilhelm. Both of your boys are so hungover that they can barely see straight, and Father Wilhelm insists on helping them nurse their nausea and headaches, so there's very little in the way of conversation.
You, on the other hand, feel phenomenal (by comparison). The ache in you is dramatically lessened. It still takes nearly an hour for you to safely get down the steps from the tower— with Chesty's assistance, no less— but you move to set off to see Father Pevrel with a (tired) grin.
Neither Serpent nor Father Wilhelm trail after you, once they're certain you could make it down from the tower safely. Father Wilhelm didn't even send you off with the bouquet, expecting you to return in the next few days (at the very latest). You hate good-byes, and won't accept that you won't see Serpent and Father Wilhelm again in the near future.
Chesty stays behind with both men, confident that with your renewed vigor, you'll be alright to move around the Church grounds unaided. It helps matters that there's so much accountability from your fellow clergy. The halls are packed this time of morning.
Heading down the halls of the Church comes with no end of looks and whispers. Most people seem most alarmed by the sight of you using a cane. Others look delighted to see you, but are infinitely too concerned with appearances or propriety to approach you. You don't give a single shit, and focus more on the sunny sky peeking through high windows, indoor gatherings of flowers, personal gardens, and the utter absence of any additional figures three whole wings before you arrive at the door to Father Pevrel's small, temporary room.
You look down either end of the barren hallway, confirming that there isn't a soul in sight. It's the most bizarre thing you've seen since waking up, so you eagerly rap on the door, hollering, "Father Pevrel! It's Father—"
The door swings open. You're instantly hit with the smell of hard liquor. Father Pevrel is wavering. He's as clean-cut as you've ever seen him— shaved, his shoulder-length hair recently trimmed, and not a speck of blood on his black gambeson or matching trousers— but he's looking up to you with so much fury that it doesn't surprise you in the least when he almost grabs you by the collar.
"Anscham—" The priest instantly registers that you're using Furor out of necessity. The hand that was going to drag you inside falters. He furiously grasps at the air instead, then drops his fist by his side.
You raise your eyebrows and wait for him to move out from the door frame. "It's nice to see you, too."
He steps aside, radiating frustration. "Get in here."
The walk across the Church was nothing compared to your hours-long expedition across Wearmoor, but it still has you feeling far more tired than you have any right to be. It takes you a few seconds to limp inside the room, but you manage.
You know Father Pevrel well enough by now to know that he cares quite deeply about how you're feeling— and the more uncomfortable, the better. He makes no motion to help you sit down anywhere, and instead slams the door shut, storms over to you, then stands there with his hands at his sides like he's fighting with every fiber of his being to not hit you.
"WHAT were you THINKING?! Throwing away your health and nearly DYING for two—?!"
"Of my children." You don't even bat an eye. "If I had the chance to go back and do it all over again, I would do so without— without a second's hesitation—"
The father clenches his fists. He might understand, but he's still shaking with rage. "Do you have ANY idea how worried we've all been?!"
You're about to part your lips to reply, when you're suddenly taken into a hug so tight that it takes the wind out from you.
You're totally speechless.
It doesn't hurt to take a second to enjoy your friend taking the initiative for once. But Father Pevrel feels even slimmer than you remember, and he's shaking so badly from anger that you instinctively wrap an arm around him.
"I'm okay." You mean it.
"I knew nothing could keep you down. Nothing. But just look at you. You've gone and ruined yourself."
You try not to frown too hard. "This is nothing that won't be mended in Time."
"Time is our MOST precious commodity." Father Pevrel is burying his face against you, despite how furious he sounds. "I couldn't have killed enough of our enemies while you were down, and they're still going to have weeks on us." He mumbles something against you.
"...what was that?" You're struggling to breathe.
"I said 'I'm glad to see you're finally awake,' you fucking asshole. If you knew even a fraction of how worried we all were— ARE—" He shakes his head. "What can you even do like this?"
You prop Furor against the nearest wall, then carefully take Father Pevrel into the biggest hug you can. Both arms. "I'm alright. It's alright."
The priest's voice is muffled against you, and he clearly doesn't care whether you hear him or not. "Invoking three fucking Goddesses, Anscham. Three. You shouldn't be alive. You're so FORTUNATE that They didn't kill you outright— but just look at you! This is exactly what the enemy wants. You're helpless."
"Not helpless. The power we wield is more than just what we can do with our own bodies, Father Pevrel."
He grumbles, "just this once, I won't hate you for being right. Just listen to you. You don't even sound like yourself." He glances up at you, scowling at your hair. "Is that SILVER?! You're going to have the Church of Spirit on your ass, too, on top of it all."
"I would like to see anyone complain. Spirit willed it."
"This is horse shit—"
"Tell me what's happened."
The fact that Father Pevrel is making no motion to part from the hug is alarming to an extreme degree. He obviously needs to be held a lot more than you do, right now. You try to make the hold count, while your friend rattles off all of the news that he can.
"You came back to Serpent and I in the worst state I've ever seen a man in— and that is truly saying something. I talked Sister Jolland into assisting with your recovery out the gate, and kept her relatively isolated from the rest of the Church of Agriculture so that she wouldn't be inclined to stop helping you... at least, not until she was emotionally invested in your recovery."
You frown. "That is—"
"Fucked up? It worked, didn't it? Her and Father Wilhelm worked in my stead to keep you alive—"
Your frown wilts. "Thank you for looking after me."
Your friend doesn't even acknowledge your gratitude, scowling and hiding his face further against you. "—while Serpent and Chesty relayed all of the information that they had gathered regarding The Freesia Society. Thanks to your boy's efforts, I was able to gather the last few pieces of this puzzle. It took no Time at all to discreetly destroy Freesia's bases across Wearmoor, and with the help of many supportive citizens— who were largely motivated by the thought of losing another leader of the Church of Agriculture to this cult—"
"You told them I was going to die?"
Father Pevrel's voice cracks. "We thought you were ALREADY dead, Anscham! There was no telling if you were ever going to wake up again, you fucking—!"
"I'm sorry." You find a way to tighten the hug.
He shakes his head. "I was able to carve a path of righteous retribution through Wearmoor, culling every last one of those unrepentant bastards."
"I heard that you killed one hundred clergy." You try rubbing Father Pevrel's back. He's leaning hard against you, so upset that it seems like he's fighting not to break down. The reassuring touch seems to help him volumes.
A cold, thin, hard line comes into the executioner's voice. "Several hundred heretics outside of the Church—"
"Several—"
"Sister Schafer's list numbered one thousand. Are you seriously surprised? And yes, there were one hundred and four members of the Church of Agriculture that were found guilty of assisting The Freesia Society OR Inertia with their nefarious ends. There has been no overlap between either organization."
"Tell me all about it."
"I will. Give me a second."
"Alright."
"Short-sighted fools may think of this as a catastrophic loss for the theocracy, but I see this as a net gain. We have destroyed a massive swathe of our enemies; culled those who are unfaithful to our home; and have spared Agriculture from the abuse that these cretins would have subjected Her to in the name of their sick, so-called 'cause.'"
Father Pevrel draws back from the hold you've been keeping him in, straightens out his gambeson, and speaks with the most sterile tone you've ever heard from the man. He speaks quickly enough to avoid an interjection.
"Sister Schafer and Brother Townsend were among those who were perverting your Goddess' will, disgracing Her image, and threatening the lives of our families. The information that your boys acquired was so thorough, there was no need for a mass inquisition. Particularly not when cross-referenced with the names that Sister Schafer provided. Both Sister Schafer and Brother Townsend were completely unwilling to compromise their 'values' once their callous disregard for human life had been rooted out, so they were executed without further questioning. I killed them both within the first few days you were asleep."
Your tone is flat and a little numb. You need the facts before you jump to any conclusions. "You mean you didn't torture them further. They were killed."
"That's right."
You take a deep breath. "How?"
"The common rabble were mowed down where they stood, either by mob, my clergy's invocations of Vengeance, or Remorse. This was out of necessity, due to The Freesia Society's organization, widespread influence, and the sheer quantity of people involved. They're still burying the dead." The sadist smiles to himself. "The clergy, however? Beheading would have been too swift and too good for the traitorous scum. All were put to death at the gallows."
Those empty eye sockets bore straight into you.
"If the Goddess of Death truly approved of their behavior, perhaps more of them would have broken their necks on the way down."
>A] You're not angry. Just disappointed.
>B] You're furious. After everything you tried to do for Tybalt?!
>C] You're devastated. Renne may have seemed beyond saving, but you saw so much promise in Tybalt.
>D] You're numb. This is simply what you've come to expect from Father Pevrel. It's honestly a shock that he wasn't crueler.
>E] You understand completely, and this is far kinder than most treatment you've given to cultists of Inertia. Father Pevrel may have utterly destroyed his reputation in Wearmoor (and likely nation-wide), but it has not been without good cause. Tell him how much you appreciate his efforts and sacrifices.
>F] Write-in.
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>A] You're not angry. Just disappointed.
What a waste. I think Richard would defintely be sad about this whole situation. If we had been there we could have turned them around. But Father Pevrel isn't us and we weren't there. Which wouldn't have happened if the Freesia's didn't fight us so hard. And the fact that he did all this under the assumption that they had killed us and we were never waking up.
I will give ol' Nick some credit though.
If he isn't totally sugar coating it for us, he did give them a chance to recant their views before executing them, which is better than he used to do.
Were any of the 1000 spared? Where is Giles Faintree?
What a waste. I think Richard would defintely be sad about this whole situation. If we had been there we could have turned them around. But Father Pevrel isn't us and we weren't there. Which wouldn't have happened if the Freesia's didn't fight us so hard. And the fact that he did all this under the assumption that they had killed us and we were never waking up.
I will give ol' Nick some credit though.
If he isn't totally sugar coating it for us, he did give them a chance to recant their views before executing them, which is better than he used to do.
Were any of the 1000 spared? Where is Giles Faintree?
Chapter 10: For Your Health
Alaric
⠀
Chapter 10: For Your Health
One, long, ragged sigh leaves you. Father Pevrel closes the door to his room while you try and pull yourself together.
You run a hand down your face, pull up a chair, and sit down so you can properly hang your head between your hands. You're speaking to the floor. There's no hiding the devastation in your voice.
"What a waste."
"If you think that a SINGLE one of those traitors deserved—?!"
"Come on, Nick. Even Tybalt?" You look up to the killer with reddened eyes.
He stops shouting. He seems to be at a loss for words.
Your voice cracks. "I'm not angry. I'm just disappointed."
Father Pevrel awkwardly stands there, too furious at the situation to argue with you, too convicted to back down from what he's done, and way too inexperienced with comforting one of his victims to say a single further word.
At least he doesn't want to make things any worse.
No one can blame you for trying to cope. "If I had been there, I could have turned them around. But it's too late for that, isn't it?" You're fighting as hard as you can not to cry. "You are not me. I wasn't there. None of this would have happened were it not for the Freesias coming at us with everything that they had."
You can hear how tightly Father Pevrel is clenching his fists. He has to be hurting himself.
Grasping at the robes over your knees— ignoring a few swollen teardrops that fall into your lap— you force yourself to look at your friend and choke out, "the fact is that you did all of this under the assumption that they killed me. That I was never waking up."
Both of you stare at each other for a good, long, terrible moment.
"I don't think I have EVER been so pissed in all of my life— but I wouldn't let this get the better of me. They wanted to drive us to madness. Instead, this bid at breaking us down and driving us apart became their own undoing." He miserably wipes at one eye socket. "I fucking hate you for all of this, Anscham."
"You didn't have to hear out Sister Schafer, or Brother Townsend, or— or anyone else—"
"Of course I did." Father Pevrel starts breaking down. "It's what you would have wanted."
"Come here." You can't stop from sobbing while you take your friend back into a hug. "You gave them a chance, even when I'm certain you were sure of their guilt."
He's holding you so tightly, you're certain he's afraid of losing you again. "There were more. Many more."
"I can't tell you enough how much it means to me. You've— you're doing so much better. Please tell me everything." You sniff, pulling apart from the hug just enough to look the priest in his absence of eyes. "I want the details. Don't sugar-coat anything."
"You know I never will." A shaking hand wipes at a damp eye socket. The killer reeks of liquor and sleep deprivation. You make him take a seat before asking anything further.
"I want the details," you repeat. "Including how many of the one thousand were spared, of those— of those who Sister Schafer implicated. Where is Giles Faintree now? And what evidence have you gathered on The Freesia Society's leaders and Tybalt, regardless of how deep his—" You're still battling to keep it together. "—how deep his connections were with them?"
Father Pevrel launches into a reply so quickly and levelly that you're certain he's rehearsed what he'd say to you if and when you woke up.
"We rapidly discovered that Sister Schafer's list was not exhaustive, nor was it reliable. In total, one hundred and four clergy were found guilty and executed. Fifty three people were found to have been indoctrinated into The Freesia Society— who took that loyalty to their death. And four-hundred and sixteen citizens of Wearmoor were ultimately found guilty of treason, punishable by death."
You're reeling and feel like you need to be sick. You really can't breathe. "Humanity is dying."
"Before you go preaching to me, Anscham, you should know that I pardoned ten clergy of the Church of Agriculture DESPITE their association with The Freesia Society or the cult of Inertia. These individuals had tenuous ties at best to our enemies, harbored no ill-will towards the theocracy, and had been misled to believe that their actions would benefit the people of Corcaea— or the theocracy itself."
The Justiciar's eyes are completely dry. "They begged for their lives, so I granted it to them. They, along with four-hundred and twenty-seven citizens were pardoned for their actions."
It takes you a split second to register just how big of a deal this is. "You let nearly half of them go...?"
"Not necessarily. Their actions have been made public to the peoples of Wearmoor. Every last one of them have been inked with a small marker on the side of their neck, indicating their allegiance to either The Freesia Society or Inertia. They'll carry it for the rest of their lives, if they are not inclined to not burn it off or otherwise disfigure themselves in a misguided attempt to hide their shame. In addition, their names were read to the public every single day for the first two weeks after you fell asleep. If the peoples of Wearmoor are content to let this scum live and work alongside them..." Father Pevrel grins to himself, crooked teeth on full display. "...then so be it."
You take a deep breath. "Riots in the streets?"
The sadist's smile broadens. "Many."
"How many deaths, Nick." You could get used to dropping his title, at times like this.
"Far fewer than if I had executed them wholesale. Their crimes were too light for me to tax my people further with their execution— and this way, not only have our people spoken out about the matter..."
"Oh?" You're getting a hold of yourself, and manage to dry your face as well.
"This way we'll have appeased both of our patrons, Anscham."
He's not wrong. You give him a reluctant smile.
Father Pevrel leans back slightly in his chair, arms crossed. "I have not touched Giles Faintree. My men have kept an eye on his residence and confirmed that he is still alive and well." The man's nose wrinkles in disgust. "I would never deprive someone of an opportunity like this for retribution. Particularly not when their death is an uncertainty. We will go after him when you're ready to exact however much justice as you deem fit."
He doesn't give you a second to breathe. "There's something else you should know, unrelated to the matter of that bastard Faintree: both of your parents were supporters of The Freesia Society."
Your heart stops. You can't stammer or gasp or ask if they're alive or dead.
"Don't pass out on me. They're alive. No one has touched them. They were not marked, inked, or had their names spoken during the daily message, either."
You find a way to breathe, but you're dizzy and positive that anything more might have actually killed you. "Then what...? Why...?"
"I have done everything in my power to set things right for you since I was appointed to your case. There are a great many injustices in your life, Anscham. The world would have stood nothing to gain from ruining your parent's livelihoods, safety, or so much as their peace of mind. All three of you have suffered a tremendous deal at the hands of the theocracy. Their distrust of the Church of Agriculture was well-founded, and despite your family's distrust towards me and my clergy, your parents think highly of you and Father Wilhelm. They swore an oath to disavow any allegiances they held outside of the nation that their son rules over— and they were assured that everything was being done to see you back in good health."
This is far from the worst news you've received today, but you bury your face in your hands, shutting out the well-decorated room and Father Pevrel's utterly pleased expression. "You have done more on my behalf than I could ever thank you for, but this—" You cast a sad, sad look to Furor. To your gut. "This is going to worry them to no end—"
"Not telling them a thing about your life is what's worried them to no end. I hear that it took you six years to visit them, from the Time that you were first let out of the Church of Mercy's dungeons—"
You give the priest a look that says you are not up to being lectured right now.
"You wanted the details, Anscham. I am giving you them."
"Fair."
"Of course it's fair." The priest of Vengeance's smugness intensifies. "What you need to know is that your parents are alive and unharmed." Pevrel gives you one of the hardest looks you've ever seen from him. "What they want you to know is that they love you, want you to come home, and hope that you make a swift recovery."
You mumble, "I intend to see them as soon as I'm feeling better."
The father shakes his head. "Atticus will have already let them know that you're awake. Do what you need to do to speed up your recovery."
You part your lips to tell him about how determined you are to do just that.
He narrows his eye sockets at you. "I'm not done."
"Go on."
The priest gets up, compulsively adjusts a throw pillow on a nearby chair (it almost puts a smile on your face), and starts pacing.
"As for evidence: our citizens were an invaluable source of information. Many thought that surrendering the names of Freesian leaders would be sufficient to spare their lives. Many more thought that surrendering the locations of bases and hideouts throughout the city would save them. The information that my clergy, our faithful volunteer forces, Chesty, Serpent, and I gathered all aligned or even overlapped neatly."
A dramatic look flashes to the closed door, then back to you. "First and foremost, you should know that I was able to support my findings here within the Church of Agriculture— that the Freesias were attempting to destabilize the theocracy with a multi-pronged attack." The man stops his pacing for a second, making a sharp gesture through the air. "Their feeble attempts to destroy the Church of Agriculture from within were fruitless." He slams one hand into the palm of another. "The Church of Flesh has had infinitely more stable relations with Wearmoor than it has in a century, thanks to Brother Trebbeck's efforts and Brother Hillbrush's sacrifices."
You nearly choke. "Is Bobert—"
"Bobert is fine. His cover is still intact. He will remain in the Church of Agriculture as a point of contact in the event that we somehow missed any Freesians or cultists of Inertia."
A heavy sigh of relief leaves you. "Thank you for letting me know."
Pevrel darts an embarrassed look to a nearby armchair. "You're welcome."
A moment passes before he remembers himself.
Another dramatic gesture is made, while the intense pacing resumes. Nick nearly upsets one of the rugs on the floor from walking so briskly across the small space. "Every attempt has been made to delegitimize the Church of Vengeance, but thanks to your unforeseen contributions to the Church of Agriculture, any influence from the Church of Mercy on my actions will ultimately be excused as the work of a martyr. Our collective work from Eadric, while on the road, and here in the city has, of course, ensured the prosperity of the Church of Mercy— and by extension, our King."
Father Pevrel suddenly stops his pacing, turning hard to face you. "There is no undoing the chaos reigning in Murgate from where we are now. Direct intervention is required. Likewise, the corruption that's seized the Church of Storm is cause for severe concern. We CANNOT permit either of these weak links to go unaddressed— particularly during Father Barthalomew's prolonged absence, or in the event of Father Sullivan's death."
He shakes his head. It's so weird seeing him presentable that the sight of his wavy, black, recently-washed hair swaying catches you off-guard.
"Don't look so surprised. And as for the south: Atticus has assured me that he will personally look into the matter of Mother Aimar's prolonged preoccupation as soon as he's able— but he has been completely focused on aiding your recovery, and will continue to make you his top priority until you are back on your feet." A disgusted look goes to Furor. "Unaided."
It seems that the preacher has found his voice, as he still isn't done bombarding you with information. "The motives of our enemies are numerous, and regarded as sympathetic by much of the population— but their misguided attempts at 'correcting' the theocracy's 'deficiencies' has led to their undoing. Your boys' work was utterly invaluable in destroying The Freesia Society— along with your own sacrifices, and those of our other allies— which is why it is CRITICAL that we do not permit something like this to ever happen again."
Father Pevrel strides right up to you and firmly places a hand beside your head on the high-backed armchair. The gravel and silt of his voice drops to a growl.
"I permitted one member of The Freesia Society to live. Just one. Tilly Barclay. She went by the code-name 'Wildflower' as a Freesia. She's been called a coward by many more. I think she's a hero. Chesty befriended her before his cover was blown, and she is the ONE reason why he was not immediately killed. She divulged a tremendous amount of information regarding The Freesia Society's headquarters, names of their members, and helped us to track down and kill FOUR of their most prominent leaders: Hogweed, Foxtail, Morel, and Cherry Blossom. They all died without disclosing anything regarding their true identities, but Tilly was happy to confess to what they were doing in Wearmoor... how they were doing it... and most importantly, WHY they were here to begin with."
Leaning back, Father Pevrel takes in a sharp breath and looks down his nose at you. "Her statements regarding the murder of Mother Bethaea aligned perfectly with Serpent's findings. The work of Freesia's current leadership was far removed from their original intent of killing Phyllis, but they were aware of operatives within the Church of Agriculture like Renee Schafer— who were NOT associated with either The Freesia Society OR Inertia; who simply wanted to try and run the show their own way."
The priest stops his glaring. Oddly enough, you can hear Father Pevrel fighting as hard as he can not to smile.
"Our enemies are numerous, Anscham. It doesn't take a priest of Mercy to see why we should value our allies highly."
The two of you look at each other for all of three seconds before you hug again.
"If ANY of this leaves this room—" As if a closed door could somehow undo his public image, Father Pevrel fires a glance to the front of the room that could kill.
"It won't." You make a point of burying him in the hug, not minding at all how big you are for a change. "Though the lack of news from Inertia is always bad news—"
The priest parts from your hold, even though it looks like it's killing him to do so. "It is. There hasn't been any word from Fred, either. But Brother Trebbeck is running a tight ship in Beorward, and Father Wilhelm left Somerilde in as good of condition as we can hope for."
Father Pevrel makes sure you get seated again before he says another word. You try to not look too irritated, as you do appreciate him looking out for your health.
"Anscham." Nick brushes himself off, straightens out his gambeson, then drags over a nearby table and chair (despite not sitting down, posing dramatically with his arms on both surfaces). "Inertia WAS allied with The Freesia Society, by means of NOT meddling with the Freesias running the show here in Wearmoor. Inertia WILL find out about all of this— I'm certain that they must have already— and they WILL make this city a target. The Freesia Society may have been formed by the Church of Agriculture originally, but for the last four years, it has existed as an alternative to the theocracy for many. This is a common factor among our enemies. There are too many crises that require our immediate attention, and the hands we have to spare diminish by the day. While you're recovering— and for the rest of your career— you MUST find a way to be PROACTIVE. Not merely reactive."
Dropping down in his chair, your mentor stares at you with as much intensity as he can muster. "We MUST find a way to stop this from happening again. I do not expect you to come up with every answer we need in a single day. But I am here, I have cleared out my ENTIRE day for this meeting, and I am willing to take as much Time as you need to sort your thoughts out."
You know how difficult it is for Nick to let his guard down, let alone to keep his gaze on you when he does. But the priest stares you down as he says, "I never thought I would be so happy to see your fat ass limp through here as I was when I first saw you this morning. We'll get to how to speed up your recovery properly as soon as we're done— but this comes first." He slams a fist down on the table. "I know how much you like to run your fucking mouth. You haven't been holed up in the Church of Mercy for your whole life without thinking about how to FIX things! Now TALK to me!"
>A] This is way too much for you to deal with right now. You appreciate Father Pevrel's investigation and efforts more than you can possibly say, but you have to focus on your recovery. Respectfully ask him if you can take some Time to think on this matter. You'll get back to him with a concrete plan another day. (This subject will be brought up again at a later point in Time.)
>B] "Can we back up, just for a second?" You're fresh out of a coma and need a LITTLE more Time to process everything that you've just learned.
>1] You actually, really, immediately need to see your parents.
>2] It sounds like Bobert is an unsung hero of this story. He might be just a little upset over Tybalt's death, too. You need to get the other side of the picture from someone, and he's as good a source as any. You'll see him ASAP.
>3] Sister Schafer implicated HUNDREDS of innocent men and women. There's been riots. What's actually going on in Wearmoor right now?
>C] This is way too much for you to deal with, period. You are a farm boy that was kept in a cell for eight years until you were driven mad, then subjected to unreasonable standards and too much work until you were driven to suicide. You appreciate being involved in Father Pevrel's decisions more than you can say, particularly when he wants to treat you as an equal, but be honest with yourself and with your friend: you are unqualified to make decisions like this.
>1] But you don't have to stay that way forever. Ask Father Pevrel if he can be more of a mentor towards you in this regard. You do sincerely trust his experience with the theocracy, his knowledge of how your enemies work, and suspect that he has many theories of his own on how to improve affairs in Corcaea.
>2] Ask Father Pevrel if he can be understanding of your situation. One day you do DESPERATELY want to be able to lead the nation how everyone expects you to, but right now is not the time for you to make enormous decisions like this.
>D] No matter your history or past treatment as leader of the Church of Mercy, NOTHING has ever stopped you before from making an attempt at doing the right thing. (Write-in your own ideas. Bear in mind that even though Father Pevrel is a harsh critic, you ARE his superior, you DO possess the authority to enact almost any policy you wish nation-wide, and you CAN go over his head with any matter you see fit. That said, you do still answer to King Magnus— and QM approval will still be required for any particularly outlandish, reckless, or nonsensical ideas. [Plans that require interfering with your recovery will not be accepted at all.])
>E] Write-in. (Virtually any other topic you'd like to cover, questions you might have, anything else you'd like to say or do about Father Pevrel's behavior, etc.)
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Florin
Priest of Yech
>D] No matter your history or past treatment as leader of the Church of Mercy, NOTHING has ever stopped you before from making an attempt at doing the right thing. (Write-in your own ideas. Bear in mind that even though Father Pevrel is a harsh critic, you ARE his superior, you DO possess the authority to enact almost any policy you wish nation-wide, and you CAN go over his head with any matter you see fit. That said, you do still answer to King Magnus— and QM approval will still be required for any particularly outlandish, reckless, or nonsensical ideas. [Plans that require interfering with your recovery will not be accepted at all.])
Fixing shit is the best therapy I could ask for honestly. Here is what I think we should do:
1. Enemies to friends.
The ten spared priests who begged for their lives have already admitted their guilt, a good many of them might seek a higher form of repentance. As the leader of the Church of Mercy, it is up to us to offer them a chance to properly clear their name in the eyes of both Mercy AND Agriculture. They have a lot of shit to make up for, get them all in the same room and give them a talking to about PRECISELY what we expect them to behave like. Wearmoor is now a power vacuum, both the theocracy and Inertia are going to be racing to fill it, we got a fresh dub under our belt but are our resources are very much spent, as such we need to consolidate our forces. These ten priests should make their new focus keeping a VERY close eye on possible Inertia infiltration, they wanted to do good for the theocracy? Thought we were shit at our jobs? Their turn to prove they can do it right, put their lives where their mouth is and get shit done. They are the disposable vanguard of anti-Inertia operations. Additionally, offer those marked as traitors the chance to redeem themselves too. Their initial motivation was to better the lives of their people, which is an honorable pursuit, we all make mistakes and are blinded by perceived virtue. Give them a second chance to get it right. Daffodils represent rebirth, allow these people to symbolically fulfill the circle of life by killing their old selves and being born anew, embraced by Agriculture and their peers. The marks will not be removed, but rather altered to represent this change of heart. We are offering them the opportunity to GROW or wither as they are. Faith is always rewarded. Pevrel would know best what uses these people could have, I will leave the specifics to him.
2. Friends to enemies.
The zealous volunteer forces are a VERY good sign and an even greater resource, we have lose many priests and no doubt many invokers, but when the strength of the divine withers we must look back at what truly holds up this country, the fair folk of Wearmoor. Have Pevrel and Serpent work together to pick out the absolute best candidates for spies and counter-insurgents, when Inertia shows up they will need bodies and we will give it to them on OUR terms. Plant as many of our loyalists within them, I think Vengeance would find it mighty fitting that WE are rotting THEM from the inside out for a change. Mission objective for these people is not sabotage but rather intel gathering, have them report back to trusted members of the church like Bobert, who then will dish out orders for the 10 vanguard priests. Thus keeping all of our elements separate. Priests have many reasons to talk with the common folk so such interactions should not be deemed to suspicious for our undercover agents. If everything goes well enough, try to move some of these people out to other cities as sleeper agents, ready to collaborate with the theocracy whenever we manage to consolidate a proper strike. Have them set the stage as best as possible for intervention wherever they are, our little seeds ready to sprout. Wild growth will choke the life out of Inertia again and again.
3. Co-option
The Freesias were bastards but ran a good show, we know as much. Learn from them, absorb their methods, fortify the weak spots they already exploited. We have plenty of sources of info, but I would personally like to involve this Tilly lady. She seemed to have a good amount of knowledge and would make a great asset. If Tightbutt was alive I would have also asked for info on all the shit he was doing, as he was handling logistics, such is life. HEAVILY involve the council in acting out on these changes, they do not get to fuck up a second time.
4. As above, so below.
Prase served as a hideout and breeding ground for Freesia due to its poverty and sickness, make a concerted effort to assist those that reside beneath the city, extend the hand of Mercy to where they could not reach before. Give no space to traitors to set up shop in. Again Serpent and Chesty will be instrumental in figuring out how to best do this, as Chesty is always looking out for the common man and Serpent is...well, a snake.
5. An eye on supply.
We are in the heart of Coraceas supply chains, figure out where Inertia is managing to butt in and divert resources for themselves and if we can redraw routes in such a way as to jumble up their own networks of supply. They hate being spurred to action so shifting the sand beneath them should be a good move to keep them unstable as we advance from city to city clearing them out. They are like cockroaches, slam a door and they come out from everywhere. But bugs have nests too, and that is what we should keep an eye out for.
6. Caloric overdrive.
We REALLY must capitalize on the good relations between Wearmoor and Beorward. Wearmoor is the fuel to Beorwards fire and we MUST keep the flames going if we have a chance of succeeding both in the war in Cyno and domestically. Do what we can on our end to bolster the efforts of Cyril and fortify a PROPER alliance between the churches of Agri and Flesh. We are practically the official leader of the church of Agri so we can do this, talk to council about it too and STRESS the VITAL IMPORTANCE of GETTING THE FUCK ALONG WITH THE MEATHEAD BEATING DEMONS TO DEATH. Pevrel himself has good relations with the Church of Flesh so this should be the ultimate combo, Fred was our mentor and Cyril is our brother forged in fire. We literally used our relic to ally with all of these people.
Fixing shit is the best therapy I could ask for honestly. Here is what I think we should do:
1. Enemies to friends.
The ten spared priests who begged for their lives have already admitted their guilt, a good many of them might seek a higher form of repentance. As the leader of the Church of Mercy, it is up to us to offer them a chance to properly clear their name in the eyes of both Mercy AND Agriculture. They have a lot of shit to make up for, get them all in the same room and give them a talking to about PRECISELY what we expect them to behave like. Wearmoor is now a power vacuum, both the theocracy and Inertia are going to be racing to fill it, we got a fresh dub under our belt but are our resources are very much spent, as such we need to consolidate our forces. These ten priests should make their new focus keeping a VERY close eye on possible Inertia infiltration, they wanted to do good for the theocracy? Thought we were shit at our jobs? Their turn to prove they can do it right, put their lives where their mouth is and get shit done. They are the disposable vanguard of anti-Inertia operations. Additionally, offer those marked as traitors the chance to redeem themselves too. Their initial motivation was to better the lives of their people, which is an honorable pursuit, we all make mistakes and are blinded by perceived virtue. Give them a second chance to get it right. Daffodils represent rebirth, allow these people to symbolically fulfill the circle of life by killing their old selves and being born anew, embraced by Agriculture and their peers. The marks will not be removed, but rather altered to represent this change of heart. We are offering them the opportunity to GROW or wither as they are. Faith is always rewarded. Pevrel would know best what uses these people could have, I will leave the specifics to him.
2. Friends to enemies.
The zealous volunteer forces are a VERY good sign and an even greater resource, we have lose many priests and no doubt many invokers, but when the strength of the divine withers we must look back at what truly holds up this country, the fair folk of Wearmoor. Have Pevrel and Serpent work together to pick out the absolute best candidates for spies and counter-insurgents, when Inertia shows up they will need bodies and we will give it to them on OUR terms. Plant as many of our loyalists within them, I think Vengeance would find it mighty fitting that WE are rotting THEM from the inside out for a change. Mission objective for these people is not sabotage but rather intel gathering, have them report back to trusted members of the church like Bobert, who then will dish out orders for the 10 vanguard priests. Thus keeping all of our elements separate. Priests have many reasons to talk with the common folk so such interactions should not be deemed to suspicious for our undercover agents. If everything goes well enough, try to move some of these people out to other cities as sleeper agents, ready to collaborate with the theocracy whenever we manage to consolidate a proper strike. Have them set the stage as best as possible for intervention wherever they are, our little seeds ready to sprout. Wild growth will choke the life out of Inertia again and again.
3. Co-option
The Freesias were bastards but ran a good show, we know as much. Learn from them, absorb their methods, fortify the weak spots they already exploited. We have plenty of sources of info, but I would personally like to involve this Tilly lady. She seemed to have a good amount of knowledge and would make a great asset. If Tightbutt was alive I would have also asked for info on all the shit he was doing, as he was handling logistics, such is life. HEAVILY involve the council in acting out on these changes, they do not get to fuck up a second time.
4. As above, so below.
Prase served as a hideout and breeding ground for Freesia due to its poverty and sickness, make a concerted effort to assist those that reside beneath the city, extend the hand of Mercy to where they could not reach before. Give no space to traitors to set up shop in. Again Serpent and Chesty will be instrumental in figuring out how to best do this, as Chesty is always looking out for the common man and Serpent is...well, a snake.
5. An eye on supply.
We are in the heart of Coraceas supply chains, figure out where Inertia is managing to butt in and divert resources for themselves and if we can redraw routes in such a way as to jumble up their own networks of supply. They hate being spurred to action so shifting the sand beneath them should be a good move to keep them unstable as we advance from city to city clearing them out. They are like cockroaches, slam a door and they come out from everywhere. But bugs have nests too, and that is what we should keep an eye out for.
6. Caloric overdrive.
We REALLY must capitalize on the good relations between Wearmoor and Beorward. Wearmoor is the fuel to Beorwards fire and we MUST keep the flames going if we have a chance of succeeding both in the war in Cyno and domestically. Do what we can on our end to bolster the efforts of Cyril and fortify a PROPER alliance between the churches of Agri and Flesh. We are practically the official leader of the church of Agri so we can do this, talk to council about it too and STRESS the VITAL IMPORTANCE of GETTING THE FUCK ALONG WITH THE MEATHEAD BEATING DEMONS TO DEATH. Pevrel himself has good relations with the Church of Flesh so this should be the ultimate combo, Fred was our mentor and Cyril is our brother forged in fire. We literally used our relic to ally with all of these people.
>[D] Florin's write-in.
I kept trying to think of things to add as I scrolled down, but you were very thorough. Honestly, it all sounds good. I especially like the idea of adapting the tactics of our enemies—I feel like we've been severely behind when it comes to intelligence and counter-intelligence. Pevrel's great at it, and I'm sure his people are too, but this appears to be much larger than the Clergy alone can deal with.
I'm not sure how we should deliver this message, but I think we should also adopt their propaganda methods. They play on people's very real (and sometimes justified) dissatisfaction with the theocracy, with the gods, etc. In a similar vein, we should focus on how Inertia's efforts hurt the common folk. Maybe the Clergy should add this messaging to their sermons.
(to other players: let me know how you feel about this idea if you like, we don't have to integrate it if you notice any holes in the plan)
I kept trying to think of things to add as I scrolled down, but you were very thorough. Honestly, it all sounds good. I especially like the idea of adapting the tactics of our enemies—I feel like we've been severely behind when it comes to intelligence and counter-intelligence. Pevrel's great at it, and I'm sure his people are too, but this appears to be much larger than the Clergy alone can deal with.
I'm not sure how we should deliver this message, but I think we should also adopt their propaganda methods. They play on people's very real (and sometimes justified) dissatisfaction with the theocracy, with the gods, etc. In a similar vein, we should focus on how Inertia's efforts hurt the common folk. Maybe the Clergy should add this messaging to their sermons.
(to other players: let me know how you feel about this idea if you like, we don't have to integrate it if you notice any holes in the plan)
Florin
Priest of Yech
I think the Clergy should use their actions instead of their words, the general feel I got from people so far is that they are TIRED of the preaching. So instead of preach I think the clergy should LISTEN for once. Set aside time to really hear the people and not just talk AT them. I feel like this is what Inertia did that got them the amount of sympathy they have. We do 100% need to change something about how we do outreach though.
Alaric
⠀
(Could you elaborate a bit more on this point? You aren't totally familiar with how the Church of Agriculture has been running operations in past years (given the council-based leadership), so learning about how they have been interfacing with the people could definitely be on the table. Did you mean like, having more one-on-one interactions with the populace on a personal level (for most clergy, like on a day-to-day basis, so they can relay what they learn to leadership)? Instating a means of receiving feedback from the people by having them come to the Church? Asking your allies for some advice on how to carry out this idea?)
Florin
Priest of Yech
More like what we did with our own sermon (before we met the Sunshine), where clergy actively ask for feedback from the people, make it a conversation of sorts, make them feel heard and cared for. Improving communication across the board is good, but what I meant is more of this specific change to procedure. Really get to the roots of the issues people have rather than just be condescending and preachy. Agri priests specifically should be more down to earth.
Alaric
⠀
(Thank you for clarifying!)
Florin
Priest of Yech
Also ask him at some point how his "sin vision" works. Like is the sin based on the perception of Vengeance or is it molded by the personal beliefs of Pevrel as well. Also he can't see shit how the fuck does he do interior design that well. I have a theory that IF sin vision works based on his personal beliefs and he really fucking hates bad interior design to the point where he considers it an affront to justice it would actually be one of the only thing he sees. like a pillow in the wrong spot would glow for him, putting it in the right place would make it vanish. A full room of bad design would just destroy his eyes in the most literal sense of an eye sore. Is that how he does it? This is very important to me.
>D] Florin's write is very concise and clear and it will probably do alot of good.
Maybe we can set up a dedicated grievance committee, where lower clergy can hear the problems of the people and provide basic advice and assistance, and give them a chance to interface with the community that way. They can also escalate as needed to more experienced/invoking clergy for bigger issues. This would certainly save Time and resources by delegating responsibilities.
We also need to appoint a new Premial of Bounty and a something or other of Fertility. Or an acting Father or Mother like what Brother Cyril is doing for the Church of Flesh. It'll be difficult for us to lead two churches at once especially if we aren't there.
Maybe we can set up a dedicated grievance committee, where lower clergy can hear the problems of the people and provide basic advice and assistance, and give them a chance to interface with the community that way. They can also escalate as needed to more experienced/invoking clergy for bigger issues. This would certainly save Time and resources by delegating responsibilities.
We also need to appoint a new Premial of Bounty and a something or other of Fertility. Or an acting Father or Mother like what Brother Cyril is doing for the Church of Flesh. It'll be difficult for us to lead two churches at once especially if we aren't there.
Florin
Priest of Yech
Maybe the acting Father/Mother can be chosen on a rotating basis from people in the council, cycle them so they can all get experience leading the church and also making sure power doesn't concentrate in the hands of a single person. (so they can't just assassinate them again).
Chapter 11: The Best Therapy
Alaric
⠀
Chapter 11: The Best Therapy
"Fixing shit is the best therapy I could have asked for, honestly." Nick makes such sour face at your expletive that you can't help but laugh. Dragging your chair over to his table only takes a second. "Here's what I think we should do."
Your ally and mentor couldn't look more pleased that you have immediate answers. He drags over some parchment and pens, ready and waiting to hear what you have to say.
It all means so much to you that you can't stop smiling. "The ten spared priests who begged for their lives have already admitted to their guilt. A good many of them might seek a higher form of repentance."
"Anscham, the ten clergy who I pardoned were scarcely associated with this disaster. EQUIVALENCE must be maintained in ALL things—"
Your smile falls. "What exactly do they have to make up for, in the eyes of Mercy AND Agriculture?"
"Six were complicit in turning a blind eye to missing goods in shipments that they were not tasked with keeping an eye on, but that they recognized as a sign of foul play. One overheard Sister Schafer mention The Freesia Society in passing and never reported the name, as they were unaware of its significance. The last three had family members who were affiliated with Inertia, but as the organization had no presence in the city AND they were estranged from those family members outside of the Church, they dismissed the matter without reporting it to a higher authority. None of these people should be put to death, nor should their careers be interrupted in any ridiculous fashion—"
At least five more assumptions you were going to make about these people dissipates into the heady, liquor-filled air.
The jab at your treatment of Tybalt makes you want to scream a little.
You clear your throat. "They are still marked, are they not?"
"Of course they are. It's as I said— I left the matter of their judgement up to their people. Their friends. Their families."
You take a deep breath, wanting for fresh air and the scent of wildflowers. "I would like to help them be embraced by Agriculture and their peers. I'm not proposing that their marks should be removed— but perhaps we could have them altered. Daffodils are a symbol of rebirth. And if we could not give them a flower, I propose that we offer these ten individuals an opportunity to grow."
"I'm listening."
"With Wearmoor as a continued power vacuum— and I will get back to that—"
"Alright." The start of a smile catches on Father Pevrel's face.
"—our resources are spent. Both Inertia and the theocracy will be racing to fill the vacancies left by the events of the last few weeks. We have Bobert and your clergy as eyes and ears of the Church, but we could stand to have more. Many more. These clergy— their focus could be directed towards keeping a VERY close eye on possible Inertia infiltration, too."
The Justiciar rubs his chin. "This is shockingly reasonable of you."
"You know what best uses these people could have. I leave the— I leave the specifics to you."
Several lines of text are jotted down in harsh, firm, confident markings upon the first of many pages. "I'll see to it that their additional assignments are addressed before the week is out. This should not interfere with their daily tasks. You should know that I have many individuals within the Church of Agriculture appointed to guard against any further corruption— but we could always stand to have a few extra hands." Nick grins to himself, waving the top piece of parchment at you. "I can't say I don't like this."
"I'm far from finished."
Father Pevrel gives you a pleased and expectant look.
"The zealous volunteer forces you've assembled are a VERY good sign, and an even— and an even greater resource." You lean further forward in your seat, then slam a hand onto the table. "We may have lost many of our own— and no doubt many invokers— but when the strength of the divine withers, we MUST look to what TRULY holds up this country! The fair folk of Wearmoor! I would like you and Serpent to work together to pick out the absolute best candidates for spies and those who will prevent another uprising from EVER occurring again. When Inertia shows up, they will need bodies— and we will give it to them on our terms."
You and Father Pevrel smile at each other. He obviously approves.
"Plant as many of our loyalists as you can within them, Nick. I think Vengeance would find it mighty fitting when we rot them from the inside out." You get a little more comfortable, easing back in your chair and folding your hands over your stomach. "The mission objective for these people is not sabotage, but information gathering. Have them report back to our allies— those within the Church that we know we can trust— who can then dish out orders for your clergy. Particularly those who— particularly those who are appointed to upsetting Inertia's activities. All of our elements will be separate. If everything goes well enough, we could move aspects of this operation to other cities, ready to collaborate with the theocracy whenever we manage to consolidate a PROPER strike—"
"Already have all of that covered, Anscham." Nick gives you one of the smuggest smiles you've seen in all your life. "What else do you think I do all day?"
You smile back at him. "Then the stage is set for intervention wherever they are?"
"I didn't get this Church into shape in a matter of weeks without a few helping hands. We need more— we always need more— but yes."
"Our little seeds are ready to sprout, then?"
"I'll run through the best candidates again with Serpent, if it would set your mind at greater ease."
"I want to choke the life out of Inertia." Your vindictive smile broadens. "Again. And again. Do whatever you need to do to make it happen."
A surprised and pleased look crosses over the Lord of Murder's face for just a minute. He gets back to writing.
"That takes me to my next point. The Freesias were bastards, but they ran a good show. I would like to learn from them, absorb their methods, and fortify the weak spots that they exploited. We have many sources for information, but I would personally like to involve Tilly—"
"How so?" Pevrel taps his pen against the table impatiently.
"She seems to be a— she seems to be a veritable font of knowledge. The problems that the Church are facing— these issues are so large that the clergy alone cannot deal with them. I would like to adopt their methods of propaganda." The look of disgust on your friend's face is absolute. You're quick to add, "they have played on people's very real and sometimes justified dissatisfaction with the theocracy." You drop your voice to a sickened whisper. "With the very Gods."
It takes you a second, but you pick your tone back up. "In a similar vein, we should— we should focus on how Inertia's efforts hurt the common folk. Who would know better? Who would have greater insight? We can incorporate any or all of this into our sermons." You take on a humble, patient tone. "Or none of it. If you see any holes in this plan—"
"You should talk to her, Anscham. Don't make Ms. Barclay another one of your pet projects— but you might get more answers from her than I already have." Pevrel grumpily sets aside another piece of parchment and starts penning in a to-do list. "I'll arrange for a meeting."
"Thank you."
After casting a weary look around the room, Father Pevrel sighs. "I know you have more."
You straighten upright, fighting not to smile. "Of course I do."
"Let's hear it, then." The priest dead-pans, "I have all day."
"Prase served as a hideout and breeding ground for Freesia due to its poverty and sickness—"
"Everyone in Prase has their needs met, Anscham."
You deflate. "I beg your pardon?"
Your mentor pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. "The denizens of Prase are almost entirely comprised of the sick and elderly, but the Church of Agriculture provides them with housing, medicinal care, food, and any other basic necessity that they require. It is not a glamorous way to live, but the caverns are an invaluable safety net for citizens of Wearmoor. Some people will travel from the surrounding areas just to seek refuge in Prase— and the Church of Generosity CANNOT turn them away."
"...this is a far cry from the Church of Mercy." You lovingly think to the high, gilded halls of your home.
"Not everyone can make gold with their bare hands, Anscham, or live in a castle that rivals the royal palace." Father Pevrel sneers at you. "You know how good you have it, but you really should learn how to ask questions before jumping to giving answers." He leans across the table, whispering, "it's the way the world works."
"There must be a reason these traitors set up shop in there," you grumble. "Why the hands of Mercy had not reached them before."
"The cost of living for any other citizen— those who are capable of fending for themselves— who wish to occupy Prase is ludicrously low. Illicit activity is more prevalent below the city than above it as a result, but it is still drastically lower than in, say, Eadric. The Freesia Society was enormously competent. They took advantage of the lack of scrutiny from their neighbors within Prase, and had placed bases in which they aimed to kill you below ground— to minimize innocent casualties, property damage, and public awareness of the conflict. The vast majority of their bases were above-ground, however. Some were hidden within the city itself, but plenty were in plain sight." One of Pevrel's eye sockets twitches. "If you want to focus on weeding out corruption, Anscham, focus on the FACTS that you have at hand. Not on assumptions."
You cross your arms, dodging the accusation. "We can give NO space for traitors to set up shop in."
"I know. We were thorough. There were no survivors from the bases within Prase, and more of my men are now stationed below-ground as well."
"Have Chesty and Serpent been made aware of Prase as a potential asset?"
"Not Chesty." The priest scowls at his to-do list. "I'll bring it to his attention."
"Thank you."
Nick shyly, angrily mumbles, "you're welcome."
After your friend's endearing expressions subsides, twice as much frustration inches into your tone. "About the supply chain—"
"I've investigated the matter thoroughly. Before Brother Townsend's death, he disclosed the locations of all of his personal records, which I have personally picked through with a fine-tooth comb. He also voluntarily divulged his corroboration with The Freesia Society to disrupt the supply chain throughout the south." Father Pevrel lowers his voice. "I've traced the movement of supply from Wearmoor to many operations across the city that aligned with The Freesia Society's bases, as well as movement across the nation that slowed Inertia's development. There was some truth to what Tybalt told you. He played a hand in all sides of this affair. It's a pity that he let his pride undo him. A liar like that could have had a phenomenal career within the Church of Vengeance—"
"Will you stop?" Your voice cracks.
A full minute passes in silence. Drawn curtains bake with the morning sunlight, and raven-black ink dries on freshly pressed parchment.
"They are like cockroaches," you mutter. "Slam a door and they come out from everywhere."
Father Pevrel remains utterly silent, staring you down as if he could fix your unease if he just glares hard enough.
"But bugs have nests, too, and that— and that is what we should keep an eye out for." You glare right back at your mentor. "Did you cross-reference your findings with my own research into the supply chain? The goods that we confiscated in Eadric, particularly?"
"I did. The primary issue within the Church of Agriculture's supply lay within the city itself. The goods that were set to be distributed across the country were sent off according to plan, for the most part. As I've said before, Inertia played a very small role here in Wearmoor. It's the Church of Storm who caused the catastrophic cut-off of materials that we experienced in the last few months. It seems that the Church of Storm is the culprit for interrupting supply to the south. Your findings— such as the goods you inspected that were appropriated from off the coast— indicate that the Church of Storm may even be shipping materials out from their own city and ships to sustain Inertia's operations nation-wide."
Pevrel gives you a fiendish grin. "The good news is that tracking the movement of all of these goods led me and my men to the location of many bases of operation, inside and outside of Wearmoor. I've relayed every last one of them to my boys. They'll have already crushed those closest to the city. We will be taking captives. Larger raids will be organized as soon as we have the hands to spare." He stares right through you, happily reminiscing. "We've been busy here, these last few weeks. It won't be long before we have many more answers."
"Your contributions to the war on Inertia will not be forgotten." You lean a little across the table, hands clasped towards your ally. There's a lot more hope in your voice. "You have excellent relations with the Church of Flesh."
Your statement snaps the killer out of his reverie. "I do."
"Wearmoor is the fuel to Beorward's fire. I cannot stress the VITAL importance of getting along with Cyril and his meathead brigade for long ENOUGH for them to BEAT THESE DEMONS TO DEATH to ANY living soul...!"
The look that Father Pevrel is giving you is a lot more worried than usual. You take a second— breathing hard— and wind down.
You run a hand through your hair a little self-consciously— after seeing how nice your friend's looks— and try to sound normal enough. "...let alone my clergy, here."
Nick gives you a small smile. "You want to make another alliance, is that right?"
"I am practically the official leader of the Church of Agriculture."
"You are the official leader of the Church of Agriculture." That empty-eyed stare could cut glass.
You take a deep breath. Your ally looks at you like he's worried you're going to pass out— or deny what he's been trying to tell you for months.
"In the absence of an acting leader, you and you alone possess the authority to act as the leader of any given Church in the nation. You are the Hands of the King, and by extension, can reach out to any branch of the theocracy that you see fit. No one is stopping you from leading this Church." Pevrel drops his voice to a murmur. "No one is more qualified, either."
Your fire and verve redoubles. This conversation has given you more life than you know what to do with. You'd love to get up, pace around, and gesture dramatically— but given the fact that even talking for this long has you exhausted, you stay put and simply give your speech everything you have.
"Then we MUST capitalize on the good relations between Wearmoor and Beorward."
"We'll come back to this." The priest makes a small note on his to-do list.
"Alright." It's going to bother you to no end, but you know that Pevrel always follows through on his promises, and so you can stand changing the subject again. "On the topic of messages and my clergy— I think that we all should use our actions instead of our words."
Nick bursts into laughter. He has to set his pen down. The sound of his guttural voice wheezing so much is atrocious.
You give him a deprecating smile. "I mean it. The feel that I've had from our people for— well, for as long as I've lived— is that they are tired of preaching. I think that our clergy should listen for once. Set aside time to REALLY hear the people and not just talk AT them."
Wiping a tear from his eye socket, Pevrel actually nods a few times and starts jotting down what you're saying. "This is a great deal of my people's work in Mauseburg. I know you didn't have the hands or the Time to do so in Eadric upon your return, Anscham, but this is a good place to start as any."
"Right. I HAVE to change something about how we handle outreach. I feel that this is what netted Inertia the amount of sympathy that they have."
"Have any brilliant ideas?" Your mentor raises his eyebrows at you.
"During my last sermon, I asked for feedback from the people by making the— by making my speech a conversation, of sorts. I aimed to make them feel heard and cared for. While improving communication across the board is a noble goal, getting to the roots of this problem is even better." You frown. "Priests of Agriculture in particular should be more down to earth."
A spark jettisons across your mind and spills over your lips in one of the happiest ideas you've had in a very long time.
"Maybe we can set up a dedicated grievance committee, where— where lower clergy can hear the problems of the people and provide— and provide basic advice and assistance, and give them a chance to interface with the community that way—"
"Slow down, Anscham." Father Pevrel is scowling at the parchment before him, flipping to a new sheet as quickly as he can.
"Sorry." You grin. "They can also escalate matters as needed, to more— to more experienced clergy, to invokers, or to whichever qualified superior in the chain they need for bigger issues. Delegating this responsibility would save Time and resources."
Pevrel has been writing as fast as he can. It takes him a second to catch up to you, but he manages, then wrings his wrist out while he smirks at you. "Getting word out about this 'grievance committee' should be relatively easy. It will bridge the gap between the people and the theocracy faster than almost anything else I can think of. But you do understand that the vast majority of clergy are under-qualified for this sort of task, don't you?"
"I trust that we can instruct priests and priestesses of life and generosity on how to listen to their fellow man. In a worst-case scenario, these matters can be escalated as far up the chain as necessary—"
"When you're already buried in work, fresh out of a near-death experience, and attempting to run two Churches."
"I won't be. We need to appoint a new Premial of Bounty and a... something or other of Fertility. Or an acting Father or Mother, like what Cyril is doing for the Church of Flesh."
"That nap you took seems to have changed you for the better, Anscham." Father Pevrel leers at you. "You almost sound like a responsible leader."
You resist the urge to make a face at the bully. "It will be... difficult for me to lead two churches at once— especially when I won't be here indefinitely." You're already deep in thought on the matter, tenting your fingers while you rest your elbows on the table. "Maybe the acting Father or Mother can be cycled through people who are appointed to the council. They all can get experience leading the Church. Power will not be concentrated in the hands of a single person..."
"The fuck are you rambling about?"
You snap an unhinged, cheerful look to your friend. "So they can't just assassinate the Church's leader again."
A moment passes by while Father Pevrel obviously fights the urge to come over and hug you. He settles on saying in a low, respectful voice, "I don't think that a concentration of power is the sole reason why Phyllis was killed. She was blamed for a great deal of hardship that the nation faced, and was certainly targeted because she was a figurehead, but she also had made many enemies, Richard."
The use of your first name gets you to calm down a bit.
"We can propose a cycle for the council, but we will have to determine the length of each member's service, the differences between their appointed duties as a council member and how their authority will change as the acting leader of the Church—" Father Pevrel has yet to take a breath. "—how this will disrupt affairs that the council already has in place, what distinction this temporary service will have between a normal Church leader's responsibilities..." He continues rattling off a colossal amount of technicalities, duties, plans, and hiccups in your proposal for several more minutes, filling up two more sheets of parchment before he's done.
Father Pevrel stops his writing at long last, straightens the sheets of paper in front of him, then looks at you earnestly. "Before we get into all of that, is there anything else?"
"It's not business related," you murmur.
The priest sets aside the parchment and his pens, then fishes a flask out from his breast pocket. He takes a huge swig, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand before replying. Your stomach growls just at the sight of it. You both have been talking for the better part of the morning, so you don't object when the drunkard offers you some of what he's having to drink.
"Alright. What is it?"
You cough, choking down what tastes like cleaning fluid. "I would like to know how your sight works."
More shifting. The priest couldn't look more uncomfortable.
"Is it based on your perception of Vengeance?" You cap the flask and instantly hand it back. "Or is it molded by your personal beliefs?"
Nick doesn't answer at all for several long moments, so you look around the well-decorated room. The throw pillows are color-coordinated and tastefully arranged. Every chair is aligned neatly and in an appealing fashion, without too much or too little space between any of them. The bed is made with a few more sheets than necessary, just to create extra strips of color to tie the whole room together. He's even decorated the roaring hearth by arranging tinder and cooking utensils in an organized fashion around its perimeter. The entire space is almost insulting pretty. You could only dream of having an eye for arrangements this spectacular.
You gesture hopelessly to the lovely rugs, the wreath hung from the side of the door. "How the fuck do you do interior design this well?"
Nick blushes.
You sear his pink cheeks and rosy nose into your memory, but the endearing lack of eye contact does nothing to help your speculation.
"I have a theory," you tease, "that if your vision works based on your personal beliefs AND you really, truly, deeply hate bad interior design... if you consider it an affront to justice itself... that it would actually be one of the only things that you see."
Father Pevrel's grimace creeps back across his face, though he gets redder. "What?"
"Like..." You leer at him, baiting out a deeper blush. "A pillow in the wrong spot would glow for you, so putting it in the 'right' place would make it vanish."
"Anscham, the fuck are you going on about?" He chucks a pen at you, seizing the opportunity to get your eyes off from him.
You're still incredibly sluggish, but your attempt to dodge the pen succeeds! It doesn't smack you in the face. Instead, the small item ricochets off of your shoulder, flies across the room, and lands soundly behind a chair.
You rub at the spot on your shoulder, which is going to bruise. Your ally grumbles and goes to fetch his writing implement, all while you continue to harass him.
"A room full of bad design would just destroy your eyes. A literal eye sore!"
The Justiciar calls from across the room, "that's the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard!"
You laugh. "I really want to know!"
He reluctantly comes back to the table, slams the pen down so hard it crackles, then stares you dead in the eye.
You stop laughing and say with all due seriousness, "if that isn't how you do it, then how?"
Silently shifting in place, Father Pevrel takes one more swig from his flask before capping it and stashing the item away. "We have more important things to talk about."
"This is really important to me."
"No, Anscham."
"Will you at least tell me if I'm right?"
With a massive groan and a huge sigh, Father Pevrel leans back and talks to the ceiling with as much drama as he can muster (which is quite a lot).
"No, Anscham. I do not move glowing throw pillows to make them disappear so that I can appease Lady Justice through interior fucking design."
A long moment passes in silence, save for the crackle of the fireplace, and the sound of Father Pevrel obnoxiously grinding his teeth.
You murmur, "there was one Time when Ofelia couldn't see anything at all, even though she has divine sight, too."
The priest goes totally silent, though he remains in his ridiculous pose, avoiding looking at you at all costs.
"We were in the lair of Arkthros— the archdemon of Time in Calunoth—"
"I remember your confession well enough, Anscham."
"...thank you."
"Don't thank me for doing my job. Go on."
"She suddenly went completely blind, even though she can see like you. A demon was present and I was right there with her, but she couldn't see at all. And... when I invoke Mercy, you sometimes cover your eyes. It didn't add up to me. I thought that you see light differently, too. I don't— I don't mean to offend. I really just want to understand."
Father Pevrel gets back in a normal sitting position, though he keeps his gaze on the rest of the room, rather on you. "You told me that you tried seeing the way that I do, thanks to the ability that Agriculture gave you. That Green Thumb. What did you see?"
"Nothing. I mean— it was nothing, but the way that the world moved around that emptiness permitted me to still see."
"Imagine that for a moment. Think about how much you could see from the shadows that the world casts."
"...I was able to move around without bumping into anything. Moving through crowds was incredibly easy, and I— and I could see much farther than I could ever have with my own two eyes."
"Think about how much potential that kind of sight holds— and how much stronger your connection to it would be if you could never make it stop."
A long pause stretches out between the two of you.
"I imagine that I could see much more than the shape of buildings and people," you say.
"Imagine if you could see the shadow of souls, Anscham. The shadow of sin. The shadow of color."
Father Pevrel suddenly snaps his gaze away from the ether, staring straight at you. "The exception is light. It blots out the shadow. It bakes into my brain, Anscham— so when you invoke Mercy beside me— when you're literally glowing from your love of Her— it makes it impossible to see as I should. I can try and block it out— I can still close my eyes— but there is always an after-image. There is nothing so bright."
You quietly ask, "is it the same way when I— or anyone else— invokes other Gods?"
"It depends," he mutters. "Agriculture is always easiest on the eyes—" You give him a cheeky grin. Father Pevrel quickly snaps, "—you know what I mean."
"I do now. Could you elaborate, though?"
"I can see the Gods in a way that even demons can't compare. If Mercy is the blinding sun in an endless night, Agriculture is... the forests of our home, without a speck of light beneath the canopy. A sealed coffin, buried under suffocating mounds of grave dirt. Dream's starlight and moon is still devastatingly bright, but some Gods— like Spirit's immateriality, for example— are even easier for me to bear witness to."
His devastation over Agriculture's rejection makes a lot more sense. "This has something to do with Vengeance's bond with each of the Gods, then?"
A small nod. "I think so."
"Or more...?"
"I have no idea how much of it comes from my own interpretation of Vengeance's will. It's gotten easier over Time. But I have never been able to will myself, or been convicted enough to change the way that I see. Not truly."
The leader of the Church of Vengeance picks at the table like an embarrassed, love-sick teenager. "For all of my bitching, I would never truly want to change it." He flits his gaze over the silver in your hair, the divinity in your eyes, and a good bit of the weight on you. "You understand, don't you?"
"I understand completely."
Mutual respect fills the silence between the two of you.
"Interior decorating is still a challenge," Nick admits, smiling in a twisted way to himself. "For years after I first lost my eyes, I couldn't tell apart any shapes or patterns with any nuance. I would have to move things around, ask servants to identify things for me. It's been a way to explore my sight without..." He trails off, his smiling faltering.
"Without any danger?" You ask.
He begrudgingly nods. "Most people wouldn't know now that I see things any differently." A sweeter smile creeps across his face. "Or that I've been given such a gift."
"Thank you for telling me."
He nods a little more, blushing harder, then shifts into his usual frown and pounds a fist on the table. "About this business."
"Right," you say, the picture of respect and seriousness (while masterfully hiding your smile).
Getting out of his chair, Father Pevrel sets about pacing around the room. He can't help but grin to himself as he does so. "You want to go to Beorward to facilitate an alliance between the Churches of Agriculture and Flesh."
"Yes."
"You trust in your ability as a diplomat."
"I have already allied myself with Cyril, Father Friedrich, and you."
"Do you want me to come with you?"
You take a sharp breath in, unable to control your response. You've considered it, but the plan was for Father Pevrel to head straight back to Mauseburg after affairs in Wearmoor wrapped up.
Your ally stops his pacing, looking at you with all seriousness. "It's less than a week's march, even if we have some catastrophic interruption on the road. You got us both horses. Brother Trebbeck deserves to be welcomed into the fold just as much as any other Church leader. If you want my company— if you need any help fortifying this alliance, and want to facilitate a union between all of our Churches— just say the word."
>Please select ONE option from either A, B, or C.
>A, B, and C are mutually exclusive. Majority vote will decide.
>D and E are optional, and any number of prompts may be selected from them.
>A] You need to talk to the council about a lot of other things first— like appointing a new leader, what their thoughts are on the Church of Flesh are, and who their new members will be.
>B] You can't ask Father Pevrel to take any more Time away from his home and his family as he already has. Thank him immensely for the offer, but firmly decline.
>C] Say the word. You would love for the leader of the Church of Vengeance to accompany you to Beorward. It's an incredibly short trip, and you'd be a fool to not try to unite half of the theocracy's branches at the same damn time.
>D] You covered an incredible amount of information during this meeting, but there's something you would like to discuss at greater length.
>1] The raids on Inertia's bases across the nation.
>2] The meeting you'll arrange with Tilly. (Feel free to specify how soon you want to see her.)
>3] How you can specifically strengthen ties between Beorward and Wearmoor, as the acting leader of the Church of Agriculture.
>4] What options you have for appointing a new Premial of Bounty and something-or-other of Fertility. (Feel free to suggest a better name for the representative of Fertility, too.)
>5] Any one of the countless problems your proposal about a cycling Church leader could raise.
>E] Write-in. (Feel free to bring up any subjects that have already been discussed if you are dissatisfied with the amount of information presented, or if you want to know more.)
>A] You need to talk to the council about a lot of other things first— like appointing a new leader, what their thoughts are on the Church of Flesh are, and who their new members will be.
We need time to think over and discuss some issues while we are here in Wearmoor before we plan to go gallivanting off to Beorward with Pevrel in tow. I would like Pevrel to meet Ofelia at some point so that they could maybe learn something about each other's sin-sight, but that isn't the main goal here. If he wants to come, he is free to, but if he thinks business needs to be attended in his city, then he should return.
>D] You covered an incredible amount of information during this meeting, but there's something you would like to discuss at greater length.
>4] What options you have for appointing a new Premial of Bounty and something-or-other of Fertility. (Feel free to suggest a better name for the representative of Fertility, too.)
Time to plug the holes in the leadership. We should definitely reconvene the council soon to discuss good replacements as the current members know the local priests better than we do, then we can give our own input.
As for names for the Fertility title, I'm thinking either a Sire or Madam of Fertility, or something ostentatious like Primogenitor of Fertility.
>5] Any one of the countless problems your proposal about a cycling Church leader could raise.
We should probably start with seniority in a yearly or bi-yearly cycle, or maybe a seasonal leadership. Sister Jolland would be ideal to start with as she's at least indirectly familiar with most goings on of the Church since everything needs to be paid for. She's also the oldest so she's seen a lot and can get things started and ready for whatever cycle is chosen.
We need time to think over and discuss some issues while we are here in Wearmoor before we plan to go gallivanting off to Beorward with Pevrel in tow. I would like Pevrel to meet Ofelia at some point so that they could maybe learn something about each other's sin-sight, but that isn't the main goal here. If he wants to come, he is free to, but if he thinks business needs to be attended in his city, then he should return.
>D] You covered an incredible amount of information during this meeting, but there's something you would like to discuss at greater length.
>4] What options you have for appointing a new Premial of Bounty and something-or-other of Fertility. (Feel free to suggest a better name for the representative of Fertility, too.)
Time to plug the holes in the leadership. We should definitely reconvene the council soon to discuss good replacements as the current members know the local priests better than we do, then we can give our own input.
As for names for the Fertility title, I'm thinking either a Sire or Madam of Fertility, or something ostentatious like Primogenitor of Fertility.
>5] Any one of the countless problems your proposal about a cycling Church leader could raise.
We should probably start with seniority in a yearly or bi-yearly cycle, or maybe a seasonal leadership. Sister Jolland would be ideal to start with as she's at least indirectly familiar with most goings on of the Church since everything needs to be paid for. She's also the oldest so she's seen a lot and can get things started and ready for whatever cycle is chosen.
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Florin
Priest of Yech
>A] You need to talk to the council about a lot of other things first— like appointing a new leader, what their thoughts are on the Church of Flesh are, and who their new members will be.
But after everything is done I DO want him to come with us for the MEGA alliance. Shit is gonna be cash.
>3] How you can specifically strengthen ties between Beorward and Wearmoor, as the acting leader of the Church of Agriculture.
>4] What options you have for appointing a new Premial of Bounty and something-or-other of Fertility. (Feel free to suggest a better name for the representative of Fertility, too.)
Seconding Primogenitor
>5] Any one of the countless problems your proposal about a cycling Church leader could raise.
Acting Leader should be chosen by majority vote of the rest of the council, each member is allowed one year long term per rotation. One rotation is determined by every single member of the council having acted as the Acting Leader once. Everyone maintains voting rights at all times and the Acting Leader can be removed at any time by unanimous vote of the rest of the council. These rules can be debated and amended only after we have been personally consulted, however I want to encourage them to be proactive with their leadership and if they feel bogged down with the process to be able to do something about it. We should preside over the first election cycle to make sure everything goes smoothly and they all understand, it will also be absolutely hilarious. Appointing new members to the council is the job of the entire council with the Acting leader having the right to veto any candidates. If decisions stall too long to the point of paralysis a tiebreaker should be decided by contacting us. Failure to fulfill duties results in the entire purge of the council without exception, to be later reassigned by us personally.
This system should allow for the most flexibility in preparation for a VERY turbulent time, minimizes animosity and competition between council members and encourages them to reach consensus. It also mirrors the life death circularity of Agri herself. We are also reserving the right to dip in and when needed and help keep things going by acting as tiebreaker in the case of actual deadlock.
But after everything is done I DO want him to come with us for the MEGA alliance. Shit is gonna be cash.
>3] How you can specifically strengthen ties between Beorward and Wearmoor, as the acting leader of the Church of Agriculture.
>4] What options you have for appointing a new Premial of Bounty and something-or-other of Fertility. (Feel free to suggest a better name for the representative of Fertility, too.)
Seconding Primogenitor
>5] Any one of the countless problems your proposal about a cycling Church leader could raise.
Acting Leader should be chosen by majority vote of the rest of the council, each member is allowed one year long term per rotation. One rotation is determined by every single member of the council having acted as the Acting Leader once. Everyone maintains voting rights at all times and the Acting Leader can be removed at any time by unanimous vote of the rest of the council. These rules can be debated and amended only after we have been personally consulted, however I want to encourage them to be proactive with their leadership and if they feel bogged down with the process to be able to do something about it. We should preside over the first election cycle to make sure everything goes smoothly and they all understand, it will also be absolutely hilarious. Appointing new members to the council is the job of the entire council with the Acting leader having the right to veto any candidates. If decisions stall too long to the point of paralysis a tiebreaker should be decided by contacting us. Failure to fulfill duties results in the entire purge of the council without exception, to be later reassigned by us personally.
This system should allow for the most flexibility in preparation for a VERY turbulent time, minimizes animosity and competition between council members and encourages them to reach consensus. It also mirrors the life death circularity of Agri herself. We are also reserving the right to dip in and when needed and help keep things going by acting as tiebreaker in the case of actual deadlock.
It also occurs to me that there's not actually a seat for the aspect of Growth on the council either. Do we assume we hold that or do we try to create and fill in a new position? We've never asked, but was that Mother Bethaea's best aspect and why it was never filled? Does the Mother or Father normally fill that position?
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>A] You need to talk to the council about a lot of other things first— like appointing a new leader, what their thoughts are on the Church of Flesh are, and who their new members will be.
>D] You covered an incredible amount of information during this meeting, but there's something you would like to discuss at greater length.
>3] How you can specifically strengthen ties between Beorward and Wearmoor, as the acting leader of the Church of Agriculture.
Also, I hate to keep putting the guy out, but I do think Nicholas should come with us (when we're done with all this) — I think it would make for a strong message among the clergy and the common folk if the leaders of the theocracy all showed some unity and combined strength in these trying times. Especially so soon after foiling the plot here and undoing the tireless and meticulous work of thousands(?) of traitors.
>D] You covered an incredible amount of information during this meeting, but there's something you would like to discuss at greater length.
>3] How you can specifically strengthen ties between Beorward and Wearmoor, as the acting leader of the Church of Agriculture.
Also, I hate to keep putting the guy out, but I do think Nicholas should come with us (when we're done with all this) — I think it would make for a strong message among the clergy and the common folk if the leaders of the theocracy all showed some unity and combined strength in these trying times. Especially so soon after foiling the plot here and undoing the tireless and meticulous work of thousands(?) of traitors.
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Florin
Priest of Yech
I would like to add a paragon of growth tbh, should bolster our forces and help us get someone of our own choosing on the council.
Just be aware that adding a Representative of Growth will bring the council up to 9 members and it will never stalemate on contentious decisions. That could be a good thing or a bad thing depending on how hands on we want to be with the council, since they will never need us to break ties unless someone abstains.