Kingdom of God: A Quest of Holy Revolution

Turn 5, 822 Shavat: Newscript and Rumors
Clippings from the news arrive brought no longer just by Dvorah but by many curious disciples of the sect as well as allies. Dvorah and other disciples hold readings of these newscripts after morning service on the rest day, and then engage in discussion. Sometimes, these clippings are the subject of the now famous dinner conversations between disciples and visitors such as Varhan Sarbadgar, and they leave comments.
White Witch Concord - Yataryn Kobatai guides the perplexed of the Coven!
from Frontiersmonk, an encyclical on pagan lands for the discerning sophisticate



It is in the oasis garden of the spinneret seneschal of the Betal Fungus Plain that two titans bury ancient rivalry, and create new comity. From the east, titan of the Cheshvans and hero of the Mothguard Yataryn Kobatai, savior of the holy mount, and the Cham, called Caterpillar King, with his Sich resplendent, and his retainers infinite. From the west, agents of the mysterious and hitherto suspected Western Coven, brimhats and hanboks, bearing the tribute and gifts of a thousand princes and ten thousand magi. The meeting of the eyes is the redemption of the witches. The dream of Zurah has been fulfilled. The perplexed and the misguided witches have opened the gates of the place they call the Collegium to Vaspukaran, and Vaspukaran to them. A railroad, and the opening of borders, and the acceptance of trade, and the allowance of embassies. To the west will go Patriarchal legates to Covasna and Gyerim, and to Nachivan shall come the first witchly ambassador in our history, ending the charade that has so long pervaded our dominion, that the Witches cannot be reasoned with even as we host 'apologists' of their number in Nachivan.

This possibility made real by the power of the Patriarch has swept aside the complaints of the Simurgh Banner that desires little but an endless war to give it purpose, and the Perusian Circles, whose savagery may safely be discarded to the prior age to which they so belong. The principle of the day is now to centralize, to modernize, to sacralize. In obediance to the tenet of universal empire, everything is allowed, and nothing is forbidden. The world may now freely see the world-state, with passports, and with registration. Already, hundreds come to Nachivan from the Grand Mare, and the Guarded Domains, and Patranesia, and Osogdo, and Zunisdan, and Maganya. They come to see the discarding of the old order, and the rising of the new. The beacon unto the nations is a lighthouse that shines so brightly it may even be spotted from Ginnugarap and the eastern continents.

The obscurantism of the unspeakable assembly falls away. Let instead a thousand flowers bloom, and for the world to look upon our majesty, for us to be proud of what we are. The heathen so delighted by the power of Vaspukaran, shall then convert forthwith, and be welcomed to Communion.


Sarbadgar: "When I was a boy, I had daydreams and fantasies of Yuhwa, that I might have been able to ride and to save her if only I was there as she was being hounded to her death. Such beliefs in chivalry and mismatched usurption of martyrdom were dispensed when I became a man and learned that Yuhwa was perhaps the only of the people whose suffering had a divine and deeper meaning. As I aged I was disciplined to put aside such childish things, and to hate her as I hated heathens, for Yuhwa was the reason why we Gushans were so despised, even if we embraced Amalgast and his holy faith. I let myself be consumed by an illusion that I thought cold reality: that the possibility of goodness was nothing but a fantasy of childhood. Now, today, I know myself a boy once again, for I have found the ability to dream of a future where Yuhwa need not have had to die for us, but live, as we should live today, in freedom. I do not believe myself a Mahdi, nor a hero, nor a cause of grand salvation. I am but a man, and yet a man who is entrusted with the hopes of ten thousand years. I will make it so these hopes are not misplaced. "

Avenger of the New Order - Guardian Burs to devastate the churlish yoke of history!
from Midnight Clock, a radical confessional epistle in the Central Navel



Revenge is the word on the tongues of all within High Confession, who rise from consigned and foul history to take their place as living souls. Buman Burs, who was of our schism once, knows well the principle of revenge and its just application. Every day the pyres burn and the deacons of the west bleat their last breaths as to extinction are sent the fossil slaveholders of the spirit. The cowardly shirk their duty, and bray of excess - is not excess what we were subjected to? Was it not excess to flatten neighborhoods of the eternal city? To spend three-quarters of a century hidden as the demiurgic class was elevated, and time was all de-synchronized, with hours long for the toilers and hours short for their 'wise' masters? Was it not excess to allow non-believers to march to the gates of Ayikra, and to spend the time that might have been made for defense of the faithful to indulge the material lust of our own sages?

Guardian Burs takes an accursed title but this is an accursed time. If there is to be a rectification of the state of the Kingdom of God the only path is cataclysm. The children who are trapped in working chimneys, the women who suffer in the indignities of silence, the witches burned, the heathens crushed, the mouflons broken, the juror soldiers robbed - by god, what monstrosity have we allowed, because of our misplaced fright of some 'excess'? Observe Burs, who cares not for excess. He who reorganizes the administration of the west into commandaries, who seeks to make Sufgar, as he says, 'the truest symbol of God's Kingdom'. Who dissolves the palatines that weigh like millstones 'round the necks of its people, and grants the penitents the fields of their tormentors. Who exiles the surviving originators into the flesh-eating gehenna to which they shall spend a thousand years. Who builds of Steedeater a true clockwork army, of discipline and well-timed vigor, expanded by the ranks of volunteers welcomed into a jury of all peoples.

Is he not the watchmaker? Is he not the titan? Is he not the man most needed, at this very moment?


Ghadan Nasir: "He is not, and this is the sad fallacy of High Confession. The presumption that the great man, the pious authority, may by the presumption of its own moral absolution and rectitude surpass the material boundaries set by creation, and in so doing bring about the eschaton, is a delusion. Witness the reforms so named. Although they improve the lot of all, and redistribute time, and improve the state of Sufgar, they also exist to enrich and glorify the Guardian and his minions, to inspire just such a reaction as he has received from our papers. The mass is bought to back the hero, and all sense of self-government and self-control of time is abandoned to the mercy of the watchmaker. But without the support of, and the consent of, the toiling classes, such a program is not a program of Truth but a program of self-deluding falsehood, in service to the lie of power."

Reaper of Five Evils - The Good Vashti welcomed to gospel of illumination!
from Light Among the Nations, a Pugilist Epistle in the Western Navel



From the destitute of Ischak rises a legend that will be spoken of for a thousand years. Against all odds, against impossibility, against false caution, Vashti emerges victorious. And such is the wonder of the victory! We have fought and died in Nachivan, my sweet husband has been slaughtered for it, my brothers and sisters of the Khofshim have bled for it - but Vashti lives for it! The sweet girl shall not be crushed, as all beautiful things have so been, but blooms into a fierce warrior. Vashti who has accomplished in months the hope of a thousand years. Mouflon minyan rule, mouflon free land, mouflon court justice. This is the first true step to the world to come. And let us not forget her companions. Let us not forget Rector Qanam, the pure-heart preacher, let us not forget the good Witch Tatala. For too long Pugilism has forgotten that the Yuhwan witch Opernani Myriam was among the greatest of our gurus. This writer will go and find any brimhat in the street and she shall embrace them and she shall kiss them chastely, and she shall say to them: you are my sibling, and I am so sorry for what it is that we have done to you.

And Vashti does not hide, Vashti does not cower. She forms of her realm an anointed Metamoa Tahor in the manner of the ancient ravs who formed armies of the anointed. For holy is the Patriarch, yes, but more holy is the Patriarch who knows his people support him against evil! She will be his bulwark against the darkness of Perusian Rite, and the suspicious beast, that Buman Burs. She will spread the word of Ghadi, and her own new and novel word, as it is written by Myriam: "let my children surpass me in all things, so I am chided by my own descendents". And so let Vashti surpass Guru Ghadi and Opernani Myriam, and let Pugilism rise again, in Nachivan with the brash and iron-headed HaKhofshi and fair and just Ma'on!

Any who dispute these words or deny Vashti's will may challenge this Epistolian at 33 Neked Street behind Unki Butchers. Unarmed, Break-Hard style, no weight restrictions. Please send a letter ahead so I know to be prepared in form and function.


Wendam: "It is a sweet sentiment and a real victory, but Qanam must know well this is only the beginning. The minyan communion has always been the model of old Pugilism, but the communion is not without its failures and drawbacks, for it so often denigrates the new and prefers the old in both leadership and action. There are communions which have broken out of this cycle and investigated the technologies and methods that would eradicate hunger for their families, but I still fear that what Vashti may bring to bear is insufficient to compete with those of her rivals and her enemies. We must engage in reform and self-reflection just as well, we who remain so disorganized we can only watch her victories from our Nachivan sidelines. This is why it is essential she reach out: It is only in mass movement that Pugilism is able to win out against those better-equipped, better-trained, and girded by centuries of domination to preserve their position. And, like this writer, be prepared to engage in any fight that comes our way!"

Triune Idols of the East - False Gods Brawl for the scraps of falling Heaven!
from Cosmic Harmonics, Iconoclastic Epistle in Gabbana



Idolaters abound in the lands of the Kazar Rite. Such is the sorry state for the eastern arm of the Lord's Army that thundered to the gates of Nachivan. Once the Exorcising Choir came to the threshold of extracting the soul of the immortal Amalgast from its monopolizing vessel. Now apostates wear the same tradition as the Maleks wore capes of human skin. Are ye a follower of profitable priesthood or savage Atamanate? Are ye a Nullifier or a Cantonite? Are ye lamb or calf or dog, and what trough does your snout favour? It is as is said by the brilliant Oshana, the lone iconoclast who dares speak to the illness that so afflicts our schism: The worship of God asks for nothing and grants everything; and the worship of false gods asks for everything and grants nothing. The 'puritan' Iconoclast reads this and scoffs: have we not been rigorous in our promotion of idol-destruction? Have we not torched the mummies of Kutan, and the icons of our temples, and do we not follow the geometries with craftsman's excellence?

Epiphanic Maniacs! Is the enslavement of soul to soul not worship of the dominating force? What have ye erected in Kutan but an idol of gold credit, and forced the souls of that benighted country to bow down? Ye who do deny them entrance to the place of God on the basis of their veneration of the mummy, meanwhile venerate the traditions of dead men, and worship at your altar made of gold! The ghost of Minister Olabarti who established the gold standard still haunts the living, and you obey his skeletal commands gladly, ye mummy speakers! The covenental congress seeks to claim god-inspiration for the false monopoly of their vernacular high priesthood; The High Jury wishes to clutch the holy goblet-neck of the flock of the Kazarene; The nullifiers seek succor in the demented worship of the Juror's blood-slicked 'honour'. As if the crimes of that order may be washed away by renewed commitment to their atrocious mandate.

No! Abolish Archdeacons! Abolish Atamans! Abolish Jurors! Wash away the old, and build the new, that is made good and whole because it is a restoration of that state of creation to which mankind is so entitled! That is Iconoclasm, and no fiction made by idol-worshippers!


Oshana: "In words made simple (Iconoclasm has not yet discovered how to abolish the idol of verbosity): each of these factions remain too tied to a binding institution. This drives them to seek the glory of that idol and not human liberation. The Covenantal Congress, even as it speaks in a language of freedom and renewed covenant, is a parochial and vernacular movement to protect the position of the local priestly elite, who represent the wealthiest and least representative of the distributive kongsi cantons, premised on the basis of sharing the fruits of labour with the labourers. The High Jury deserves little elaboration on its self-serving interests. And the Nullifier Juries make their claim to opposition on the basis of tradition and privilege of their membership. As it stands, such Jurors are likely to fully diverge from the project of the deluge as soon as it puts those privileges under threat - say, with the expansion of the Mass Jury. My skepticism for extinguishment notwithstanding, HaKhofshi must be prepared for such a threat."

News in the Eternal City for the Month of Shavat

Illuminated Nachivan is a city where the careening speed of events never ceases to amaze those coming from the slowmoving and everlasting little villages from which are forced. Rumors and news are brought by disciples or simply by word of mouth in bazaars or during temple service.

Call to Communion! The Sanhedron has passed the Bull Communal 327-43, establishing the rules and timetable of elections to the Communion of Nachivan. 25 reverends from each of the four chambers shall be elected on a geographic basis in a selection set for the middle of Hadar, next month. The Communion of Nachivan shall have the opportunity to level taxes on property and luxury within the city for the purposes of general improvement. It shall be the first true self-government that the Eternal City has ever known, as the See of Nachivan was ruled by an appointed Pontiff-Prelate. Having betrayed the city to Sword-Altar, the Pontiff-Prelate did not survive the day, and his Metropolitan Temple shall become the new meeting place of the Communion.

Already the sects have far outpaced independents and Patriarchal supporters in their campaigning, and it is said that Makabam is signing up thousands of new disciples on the basis of the strength of an uncompromising program of urban renewal and welfare support. HaKhofshi candidates are being fielded in the Western Navel, though admittedly they are mostly self-declared to be aligned with the sect, mostly running as Juror reverands for the Scourge of God or mouflons for the Ravs of Labour.


Bounty of the South! In a transparent attempt to inure Nachivan to their heretical embrace of human bondage, southern prince-priests continue to ship food to the city in the thousands of talents. There is now such an abundance of such suspicious fruits as the 'banana', that many within the sect wishing to boycott suppliers cannot tell them apart from those resold by your own local grocer. These mangoes of malaise brought forth by the bearers of cruelty hold within them only pits of evil, and many disciples of the sect say they can taste the tears of the labourers who made them in the flavour of the flesh. Many new clubs and reading circles focused on oblate abolition attack this trickster's scheme, but it must be admitted that there is a fine sweet taste that many are not much accustomed to. Nevertheless! In honour of the oblate serfs, fasting is required, and rejection of the succulent but cursed slices of the southron 'orange'.

The Targon Tournament! The glutton for the good Tata Targon has of late become a patron of the brute sport Kekeral. The ball-holding game that has its origins in the far northwest is of plentiful value for the great-bellied goon, for it is of immense popularity of the toiling classes. In its brash manner and aggressive workman's vigor, the Kekerite is slamming his opponents to and fro with such ferocity that many players professional find their skulls deformed by the brawls to which they commit themselves. Iconoclasts have denounced this game as an 'idolatry of orbs', but there is something to be said for its energy, and many jurors find it a more rustic alternative to polo. Tata Targon hosts the tournament at Rip Tang Goo Glebe and, the Yeladada advise, has invited many of the smuggling merchant clans of Nachivan to partake in barbeque and feast. It is clear the man is not satisfied with his domination of the east bank and seeks by means surreptitious to expand his influence.

Rebuild, Rebuild, Rebuild your House Soon! The Esther Kenturah and the Boros Vinderbalg have announced a most ambitious plan for the rejuvenation and transformation of Nachivan from the devastation of the 30th of Tislev. The ruins of Tzinhas Barrack shall be transformed into a park and memorial, Vikrag Prison shall be torn down, and Fort Karnak will be converted to another port for service of the whole world and not simply just Vaspukaran. For the purposes of this the Sanhedron has committed a massive apportionment of golden shekels, to be delivered to gangs of workmen rallied from across the city. Many disciples of HaKhofshim themselves wish to go, as much out of hope to have a part in the city as to get their hands on a payment backed by gold. The excitement is sheer and palpable, that the eternal city may be refreshed and the misery of the past provide fodder for the goodness of the future. It is a good sign of the good Kenturah and her influence that she commits herself to a such a pious thing!

Miscellany

In addition to news and rumors, allies and sect disciples have pinned up points of interest and clippings they simply find intriguing or amusing to the Hakhofshim Mekdash's bulletin board.

Abolish Forms - An Exhibition Without Limits! An advertisement for an entirely different and far more radical art exhibition at Vakiva Seminary. With the lifting of censorship on art including bans on certain blasphemous or abstract depictions, the exhibition of the Abolished Forms challenges all the conceptions previously suggested of what art is allowed to be. Rather than aesthetic, and rather than mere expression of the divine, art is theopolitics, art is attack, art is affront to power. A gallery funded by Akabar Morsi, these abstract and often disturbing images of circles swallowed by triangles, and ill-meaning demons of the brush, promises a future of acceleration and tumult that will devour all old history, and create a epoch of exuberance. Oshana, during a dinner with the sect, pins up the clipping, with a note saying 'intriguing'. She has about two dozen more such clippings her jacket (?), and remains an enigmatic woman.

Abbot Werikam's Insight - Behold the tiny agents of pure evil! A popular review of a recent lecture given by the Abbot Werikam by the Order of the Humours, the major non-nursing medical artisan order. Werikam, courting controversy and even censorship, has suggested that the cause of disease is not miasma or an imbalance of virtues and bloods, but instead that tiny scuttling creatures infiltrate the human body, exhaust it, and spread disease. Werikam assures audiences that these creatures are not agents of a foreign power but instead have no allegiance but demonic suffering. Against this he recommends sanitation and cleanliness, which so many already practice, but also the boiling of milk and other transmitting fluids which foster the little beasts. This shall surely protect the health of the people! Beneath it, a note from Sarbadgar: 'Curious. May also spread especially in wounds?'

The Celestial Sphere - Float to God with private balloon rides, 2s! An advertisement for the 'most splendid and unique opportunity' to 'ascend from see to sky' and 'glimpse creation from the vantage-point of angels', a ride in that strange new invention, the boiling-air balloon! The innovation which had its beginnings in Misru Maganya to the west has spread to Vaspukaran, and with it the promise of flight, and sights never before seen save briefly by those fired from catapults during the First Patriarchate. Already the lines for these rides are completely out of control in Nachivan, and are causing fright and disorder. One group of jurors to the east of the city from the frontier thought the balloon in flight a demon and attempted to shoot it out of the sky and 'bring down the invader of heaven' before it could 'seize the throne of god'. Beside it, a note with triple-underline by Dvorah: 'We are Going and that is an order'. Underneath, in a rougher script, 'Yes, ma'am'.
How can anyone truly trust these mangoes? They are inherenfly sinister, I tell you, with their taste tempting even a righteous Sister if the Covenant to break her fast or to sneak out at midnight like she were sixteen again...

Perfidious, insidious fruit, I say.
 
Elder Wendam.
This disciple will point to the errors of his prior work, that song sung to embolden the newly formed Mass Jury against the Banners of Evil, as a reminder of his foolishness, should his suggestion be of a similar nature.
But as I understand it, the Evil in the South seeks to spread the Evil of Ignorance via bribery. To say, that look! You speak of our slavery as an evil, but without it, how could you enjoy such prosperity? Surely our bountiful supply of fruit from God's world cannot be a thing forbidden by God?
I will agree that to boycott these tainted fruits are good, however it occurs to me that Hakofshim was in league with men who circumvented the hated three-fold tithe, who now are freed of that holy duty by the destruction of such.
Perhaps such contacts could be used to secure for those beleaguered workers, by whose labors the Southern generosity is created, some of Navichan's excess?
 

JOIN THE FISTS!
PLAY FOR FREEDOM!


Are you a WARRIOR for LIBERTY?
Does YOUR SPIRIT BURN with RIGHTEOUSNESS?
Will you LEAVE IT ALL on the FIELD of BATTLE?


If so, come to the HaKhofshim Mekdash!
We're holding tryouts for our new kekeral team, the Seventy-Seven Flying Fists of Justice!

If you can meet the challenge, you'll join veterans of Mushad Bridge and the Battle for Nachivan in their quest to conquer the world of sport in the name of virtue! You'll be instructed in the sacred angelforms, the key to unlocking your body's power and your soul's inner strength! You'll learn valuable lessons about tactics and teamwork! You'll receive free food and drink, courtesy of HaKhofshim!

The Fists seek all players of strong body and strong character to join their ranks, so do not hesitate! Stop by the Free Temple today and match yourself against the greatest our sect has to offer! Together, we'll show the players of the Exarchates that the warriors of the Navel aren't to be trifled with!


Prospective sponsors, if you wish to show your virtue on behalf of a vital community effort, your generous contributions are welcome.
Please speak to Coach Hadam at the Free Temple to make your willingness known.
 
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@Fayhem Ah, the much-feared Fayhem typo sweep. I shall take a look forthwith and fix typos, ye villain. I absolutely appreciate it, don't hesitate. That being said I want to do an update first :)
Lmfao. My ultimate technique! Forgive me, master!
To come to Nachivan is not to go on pilgrimage but to transmute the soul from the temporal to the sacred space: There is not a corner of this city not blessed, not sanctified, not seen as holy. It is a major problem, in fact, for construction, and an endless complaint that the city always builds and does not demolish even when it would be sane.
I love this. Really paints the picture of a perhaps excessively holy city.
The Dyada Sayina, holding the novice nun Rina in a sisterly embrace and glad of their shared safety, awkwardly thanks you, and admits perhaps she will keep the name Gagarrak of this train as they depart back to Kutan.
Sisterly embrace, eh? The same novice nun who was found hiding under her bed, is it? Just gals being holy pals!
You hide the guns inside crates of potatoes, and use your passports to wave off Jurors who try and search you.
Hey, guess we're not above learning lessons from the village. As it should be.
So the women of the sect have no guarantees, and anyways grow frustrated with the remaining prejudices of some of their husbands, who might have hoped that their exilic domesticity was some kind of virtue rather than a necessity of hard labor at the same time as raising children. As is a principle of Pugilism, the only guarantor of change is mass action, and so as the meeting starts a group of women unexpectedly stand up and proclaim themselves the Convent of the Gunpowder Eucharist. Led by Ganavani Chana, who fought on the front line at Hasadaya, these mothers, wives and daughters make a solemn vow by the rifles that they fought with that their sacrifices be respected, that their eucharist of blood and shot be sanctified. Warrior women, though legendary in scripture, have been curtailed by the 'wise sayings' of male sages: now they are back, and not as the allies of greater men, but great in their own right.

Rector Qanam nods approvingly and says that this is the energy of the world to come, come today. Hyanaki Akov shifts uncomfortably, and some of his flagellents mutter to themselves. Guru Wendam, sensing the discomfort, shoots up and claps, demands an ovation, demands the men bow to the convent, and though haltingly, all do.
This is fucking awesome. And Qanam and Wendam are based.
Money is that most unfortunate and despicable tool by which the sect must do such things as eat, drink, and shelter.
Alas, it is a regrettable truth, that there is no ethical proselytization under capitalism.
Nachivan is the heart of Ultrapugilism, that degeneration of a radical faith into a martial sport, and the sect has strongmen trained in the same angelforms. Old Strong Belman, feeling himself called on, slams his broad chest and waves, saying he will do his duty and beat to death all evil. Wendam asks he not do that, as killing the opponent is not the purpose, to which Belman says, very well, then he will do his duty and beat near to death all evil.
I love him.
But to do go to her will come with certain expectations, and some grumble about how they might be free if they supplicate themselves before the rich.
*to go to her
The option that they all knew was coming and some of them with glee, others with deep trepidation: They can go underground.
*some of them anticipated with glee
Aluf and the Heffer Market is one of the most important meat markets in Vaspukaran, and every Yoshrei over a million head of cattle are driven down from the Hamgad Steppe to the northeast in order to be slaughtered, salted, and sold across the country.
*Heifer Market, I think.
Here is his report: That the Jury of Nachivan is a hive of villainy, that cannot be converted.
IIRC one shouldn't capitalize after the colon even in American English, unless the passage coming thereafter is a complete sentence in which case you (optionally) can. Which I don't think is the case here?
These mines from which spring the demon-dust that fuels your winter fires, in which everyday we from head to toe anointed, are not places of worship but the exile of the soul.
*are anointed
What can be said about us, who are called 'low priests', and yet so such high work?
*do such
Why is that we whose labour is both praised and sanctified is treated so lowly by the Priest of Priests?
*are treated
Was is not the fundamental conclusion of the Confessional Sanhedron that we are all to be raised up to the priesthood, to don the vestments, and organize our guilds into artisan orders, for the purposes of annexing a most essential and key part of the Kingdom into the ranks of the worthy?
*Was it
Our students are being completely and utterly wrecked by the examination process which is extracting vaster and vaster fees for lesser reward.
Big mood.
Funding for the scholastic and artisan orders has completely collpased, being as it is centrally administered, in favor of greater tax indulgences to the observant orders whose only purpose is to ensure public immorality is maintained.
*collapsed
The invasion of the Mare which devastated us reflects the depths of complete depravity to which we have sunk, for our low priests fought back agaisnt the Mare and armed ourselves, and for this the Juries Eykshir and Nugal Nesra did not issue commendations for our piety but arrest warrants for our violations of the 'sacred law!'
*against
They are manipulating what was designed as specific and clear grants for a single purpose and abusing them for their general enrichment.
*were designed
Finally, the Order of Silence must be abolished at once.
Defund the secret police!
Far too much of the load of both debt and taxation is exacted upon the urban classes which would be better off expanding their own share of interest in the manufactures of our country than in covering the country estates and temples of the more indulgent aspects of our High Preisthood.
*Priesthood
I and Sesila Dvorah, whom some of you know from our tedious and charming guru as 'Wendam's Wife', and some oldermembers as the terror of the sect before our exile, have been working our best to find alternatives.
*older members

Also, she sounds great and I look forward to meeting her.
I am outlining this specifically for Rector Qanam, who often gets too excited about his pet-ideas for transforming the low priesthood. and forgets to read carefully.
*priesthood, and

And truly it was said in those days, that Baba Tanda hath no chill.
But Dvorah, who has asked me to say in this letter that she is distinctly unimpressed that Wendam did not find a way to write to her in exile and that they will be having words soon when she comes to Nachivan, also asks for central direction as to where we should most point our pens in writing a sacral complaint.
i love her
Ultrapugilism, though its name might suggest otherwise, is a corrupted and degenerated form of the faith given over to a preference for the martial and physical over to the philosophical.
*over the philosophical
Having done his part, Belman rests, and eats half a heffer's weight in meat at his victory dinner hosted by the Academy and passes out.
*heifer's

The Silent Seraph is a great ring name.
The customs wall that separates Nachivan from the exarchates, physical or not, remains deeply porous to those who know its paths, and it is with tremendous success that Wendam is able to drop himself into the local smuggling networks, mostly conducted by the Marginalia, that clade of merchants, small shopkeepers, and other middling urbanites who have been either by accident or choice between completely excluded from entrance of their professions into the Low Priesthood.
*been completely excluded
Flat failure on workplace outreach this early on. +wealth from wage-dues.
*early on, +Wealth
The sect and convent's sudden appearance, and lack of established presence, even provokes conspiracies of saboteurs or spies pushing a decline of morality: one shouting hooligan, the teenaged son of a local High Priest, disparages them as 'witches in waiting', a serious insult to a believers that nearly provokes an attack by one of the sisters before others hold her back.
*a believer

Big rip for the Convent here; I hope they can catch a break in future, as I love their whole concept dearly.
There are many and many more in the Kingdom who agree with your hatred of the corrupt foundation, but have opposed of how to construct your world to come.
*opposed views
Gracious in accepting her advice, Wendam leaves faintly baffled at having the particular of your doctrine critiqued by a pirate.
*particulars

She makes a fair point, honestly.
Many of them, wedded their own privileges, are loathe to surrender them, and the calls to outright abolish the triple tithe lead to some consternation among the artisans who wish to redistribute its apportionment, not abandon it entirely.
*wedded to
She introduces herself Maryam Vashti, a petitioner from Ischak Circle, turned away four times from the Mount, denied an audience by anyone of note within the city, carrying a sacred-stamped copy of the deed of land nearly three hundred years old that protects the rites and territories of the minyan communion of Pugranasi.
*herself as
The Flagellent Section doubles, then almost grows by half again, and Akov, to manage the flow and flood of Jurors, renames it in a ceremony inspired by his own excitement: No longer just the flagellents, no longer just Jurors, no longer men of standards without meaning. Now they are all servants of a new and terrible banner, the whip of self-sacrifice and relieved guilt, a banner that vows to fight evil and secure liberation:

The Scourge of God.

Results: Double-Success (DC50, d100=82+5, 70+5). ++Popularity, +Wealth, +Fervour, Flagellent Section renamed Scourge of God and grows much larger.
Dope. Metal as fuck.
In the outer exarchates, this alliance is in full-force, with exarchs relying on employed thugs and criminlas armed with mallets and knives and the bayonet of the Sword-Altar when all else fails.
*criminals
They hold domain over the vast sweep of Mouflon neighborhoods, volatile and unruly and hardly governed but to crush.The sole exception to this is the domain of Tata Targon, a domineering mini-Patriarch who demands devotion and offers a well-structured system of benefits and alms to those who obey, while smashing those who do not.
Needs a space after the period.
Sailors, mostly from the Autocephalate of Usral, without pensions and having witnessed the collapse of their order's honor and reputation in the War with the Mare, now lay paid but unworking, rotting in their fine ships, or working in the island's many and capcious factories, where they witness what their labour is truly worth.
*capacious
The temple is a small butcher's floor not a block from Sasan Bazaar, next to an underground cassowary fighting ring, a frock-tailor and below a small shirtwaist shop floor.
Good lord that's a fucking terrifying idea. I sure hope they have high and sturdy walls for that ring.
The lighting is poor, The stains of blood are hard to wash out, and the bare stone of the floor austere and cool to the touch, but it is the first shrine the sect has called home since their exile, and it will be more than enough.
*the stains
And not soon after, a wonder arrives in Nachivan.
Unless this is supposed to be an odd way of saying "it takes a while" I think this should be *not long after.
Greeting her with watery eyes and oiled, pleated beard, is Wendam her.
Not sure what "is Wendam her" is a typo of. Maybe the "her" there just needs to be deleted entirely?
He says hello, and she firmly that he should have written.
*she says firmly
Then, at last, she reaches out a hand and runs it through his beard and whispers that she wants to be sure he is no illusion, and he collapses into her and says he wants to be sure that she is a miracle.
God they're wholesome. I love them both and their entire vibe.
Dimmer in some creatures, brighter than others, this fire was the blaze of conscious thought that propelled humanity to dominion.
*brighter in others
It is thus that you should not held witches in contempt, but see them as fellow-disciples of the Truth, who have made an essential if incomplete contribution.
*hold
This was the child who would become Amalgast [Amal = All, Gast = Powerful]. A slave boy with a slave name in Harasdad and ravaged by a plague that nearly blinded him, Amalgast at the brink of death saw God, who ordered him to free his people, and gave him his name, All-Powerful.
The great prophet of righteousness, All Might!
From Urmah, petty prince of Usral, he formed the Melikim, princes owing fealty, and named Urmah the first Stormcrown of Usral.From Sansun, he formed the new priesthood, and named him Archdeadon of its Great Synod.
Needs a space after the period.
Members of the sect watch in astonishment as the Gabbi bounces off to fetch a cup from the local teahouse, and she retrieves from her suitcase with an almost animalistic grin a number of sheet of papers.
*sheets
1,645 years ago, 823 years before Amalgast's ascension, God sent the greatest of all flood to wash away Babarak.
*floods
And in the sacral axis of Gospodar, a renegade low priest marches up and delivers his opinion with a hammer and a nail up against the door of the Synod: enclosed are 77 Theses, each outlining the righteous cause of Seven Ravs and Seven Freedoms and a Sevenfold redemption of the world into a single faith.
O shit we're doing french revolution and the protestant reformation at the same fucking time
time for shit to get crazy
Some claim blasphemy, others freeedom.
Unless you're meming, I think this should be *freedom.
Even Bronkar Kenturah, the Patriarch's paramour, is now put into a better light. Bloom of Ziva, a women's daily, publishes its own cartoon of the holy wife of Amalgast, Esther, carrying on her back thirty-nine Patriarchs, utterly exhausted, even the square halo around her head drooping. Next to her, Kenturah, portrayed flatteringly, effortlessly carries a strong and handsome Santsarran. Against his chest he cradles two tablets, labeled 'debt jubilee' and 'free silver'. Kenturah says to Esther in a speech bubble: 'holy sister, I can handle this one!'
Lmfaooooooooooooooooooo. I love it.
The Great Debate

The only way to describe the debate that Dvorah prompts by her lecture on the history and present conditions of the Amalgastene Creed is organized chaos. Sect disciples randomly and apparently spontaneously order themselves into factions, such as 'hyperpugilists' or 'pugilist-confessors'. Dvorah's confusion as to the sudden declaration of loyalty with the truth-seeking schism is among the least bizarre incidents of the argument. Zeb threatens to get into multiple fights and does get into two. Shevah bounces so hard in the midst of an argument she almost trips on another disciple.

Abgar Ben Hadam makes a lonely fight against the idea of personalism and the inequality of souls in relation to God, but is drowned out by the majority insistence that the Patriarch is simultaneously an impotent creature of his chamber, an immortal resurrecting soul-piece of the original Amalgast that has transmigrated for hundreds of years, possessing Patriarchs, and also not separated in kind from other prophets. Dvorah despairs and even Wendam is left scratching his head. Rector Qanam is delighted, as apparently this exactly aligns with his own views, which disturbs the other sages. Several disciples performatively declare their exhaustion with the debate: one yawns extremely loudly over and over to try and stop the debate until she is asked to stop. Another sect disciple suggests it might be wiser to adopt free silver as a compromise, to which other sect members ask how that is a compromise, and they shrug and mutter something about the fatted cow of silver and the starving calf of gold.

But beyond the amusing and confusing and bizarre, there is an underlying tension in the sect between those fundamentally skeptical of the absolute totalizing authority offered by High Confession and those who wish to grasp it for themselves, but in a more equal and less patriarch-centered form. These ultraradicals within the sect define themselves as Pugilist-Confessors, but in fact represent a long-standing tendency within Pugilism towards a universal and total vision of the cosmos to be reordered in the world to come. Against them are the Low Disavowers, who attack the idea of a centrally-oriented and top-down vision of an altered reality, arguing that only from bottom-up and consensual action can redemption come.

Results: New Doctrines added, and new tab created for 'Fundaments' - more central and core ideas of the sect that are also more loosely defined.
This is awesome and hilarious and a wonderful way of representing the thread debate.
It is, she complains, a grave shame upon the sect, when As Hahahiyyim has a fully salaried coreand Ohr has founded a small women's academy in Wisdom's Heart.
*core and
But, the sages admit and the disciples as well, it is simply a matter of that accursed beast of money, that demands so much so and gives so little satisfaction.
*so much and gives
Three days later, they send a bouquet of flowers to the sect, the first the HaKhofshim have been formally acknowledged.
*first time
With the initial week and a half of the Grand Sahnedron's first session a failure, many of the reformist elders instead hit the streets, trying to organize support from among the people of Nachivan.
*Sanhedron
By asserting its own supremacy, the Great Synod has challenged not only the Patriarch, but an institution all though sacred and legendary.
*thought
In response, the Jury of Nachivan tries to hunt down and shoot the perpetrators, but Varhan Sarbadgar, elder of the Sanhedron, komandir of the Pale Horse Standard, and one of the most famed military figures in the country personally hosts them in his apartment, and dares the Komandir of the Jury of Nachivan to arrest him, given the immunity elders.
*immunity of elders. Also, based.
Maryam Vashti is the Ischak's daughter, and now she will be the Ischak's bride. The sharpest, the most intelligent, the wisest, the kindest and the fiercest of them all, at twenty-five she puts her elders all to shame. It is she who gathered up the communions and bound them in the blood of a shared covenant. It is she who gathered intelligence in Nachivan and Arhan, who warned them ahead of what the fat priests planned. It is she who prepared their strategy, and it is her inner circle that have prepared to execute the will of metamoa.
*Metamoa

Also, is it just me, or are we ALSO getting Joan of Arc here on top of the 77 Theses and the French Revolution vibes? ALL OF THE REVOLUTIONARY CHAOS, ALL OF THE TIME

A GLORIOUS AGE TO BE ALIVE, BROTHERS AND SISTERS
And she echoes out to all the gathered people, and says to them: God's reverent ones are now his revenant ones. Our lives are not tragedy, the closing of a story, but a coming climax. Today I take my greatest vow, not to a man, not to a priest, not to a master, but to the land to which I give my love. If we will die, we will die standing our feet, and if we live, we shall not live crawling on our knees. I swear myself to the scythe, of the field, and I swear myself to the scythe, of the apocalypse.
Metal. As. FUCK.

Also, *on our feet.
And Akov, from his place at the scourge's head, the veteran spit on by his own komandir, turns to them with wild eyes, and calls back, and the Scourge calls back with him: apostate.
*the Scourge's head
Facinated by a mythic vision of himself as a hero drawn from legend, and grown up on books and stories of dashing men vanquishing barbarians, Ataman Kenaman indeed gets his wish to be immortalized, and walks straight into the annals of history.
*Fascinated. And so the monkey's paw curls closed.
Following rumors of a gathering horde of peasants who Kenaman believes are an ill-disciplined, disorganized, and easy-to-scatter mass armed with pitchforks, he and his lowland jurors immediately lose themselves in the confusing, and maze valleys of the Ischak plateau.
*maze-like
Jurors who were thought to have some instrinsic and ineffable fighting spirit transferred effortlessly from father to the son, are exposed instead as dandies playing at war, some of whom have not seen combat for three generations.
*intrinsic
*from the father to the son
In about the two weeks, the largest, most well-armed standard in the Ischak, is operationally demolished.
*about two weeks
or
*about the span of two weeks
The resolutions that follow, the first the Sanhedron has actually passed, are some of the most radical actions that have been taken against a circle in Vasparak history. With the approval of the shamed and outraged High Jury of Kedarkan, the Circle of Ischak is declared out of alignment with God and formally stripped of military or fiscal support from juries outside of its boundaries until it reverses its decision to revoke Folk Rite and bows to the Grand Sanhedron. The Great Synod, no longer referred to by its title but as 'that venerable body', is almost unmentioned.
Dope. Truly, a thorough repudiation of the wicked machinations of the Great Synod and the Circle of Ischak.
Qanam is so overwhelmed, so shaken, by the realization that the same woman he spoke to claiming to have 'slipped away from her betrothed Boros' is the creature some are now calling 'the angel of the Ischak' and others 'the demon scythe',
Wait holy shit I did not catch that before. Yeah I'd be fucking shook too. And Vashti d'Metamoa is accumulating some very metal titles.
"The blood of behemoth flows red beneath our harvest moon". ~ Book of Ghadi, (P: 52, A: 6).
With some metal scripture to go with.
And in turn Wendam declares that he has found allies as well, and Akov steps forward and directs the scourge in a new and adapted angelform of Tzargon, the angel of redemption, waving their arms in tight circles and marching one foot after another towards Baba Tanda.
*Scourge
Many of its disciples are members of the old sect who, when exiled to Petrifor, did not end up in Kutan or went into hiding, and they have eagerly accepted its new name and title, and the re-ignition of its old doctrines.
*exiled by Petrifor
He's told by Baba Tanda that HaKhofshim does,, but that it's also small enough that the Ravs will have their voices heard.
*does,
To that, Bukak contends that he understands the feeling, but that if the Ravs are paying dues towards HaKhofshim and committing to its doctrine, they want a voice - it's a matter of fairness cosmic and practical.
Many of Bukak's membership in the labour lodges are skeptical of making such an agreement with what looks like such a small organization, and if you reject it now it's not going to open again. Then again, Bukak himself is a forceful personality, known to throw his weight around: He's sure to be trouble if the sect does something he does not agree with if the Ravs are integrated as a mass section.
Of course, Bukak's own opinions on a number of issues are unclear, and although Tanda advises he is radical, she also warns that his radicalism is tempered by an intensity of focus on labour issues over all.
Bukak just lights his pipe and shrugs, holding a conversation about lifting with Old Strong Belman, still training for the Great Ghadi regional tournament coming next month, and the matter is put before the sect.
Earlier in the update it was repeatedly written as Bukuk, but here it becomes Bukak throughout thereafter. Which is correct?
He's something of a khoffer himself, he says, as he begins into a sudden and abrupt diatribe on the necessity to 'utterly, and without compromise or compensation, slay the demon of oblate serfdom', and 'further to EMANCIPATE all of Vaspukaran by way of FREE SILVER and to PUT DOWN THE GOLDEN CALF', which he bellows, his deep voice echoing throughout the Temple's hall. One of the disciples, a known obsessive on the topic, almost swoons.
THE MEME IS REAL
Dvorah simply responds that if it wasn't a good article they would not have bothered to write, even as she somewhat cautiously takes lessons with Baba Tanda and the Nuns of the Gunpowder Eucharist on how to shoot a revolver.
A whole queen. We stan.
At the same time as the Sanhedron holds its session toe vote upon the bull, a new opera is played at the Ghazzan Conservatory, a novel work by the extraordinary female composer Sister Wadahara Mina of the Order Symphonic.
*to vote
As the chimera stomps towards Jofar and asks him from where he thinks his success comes, the Elder of Usral stands up and declares he will add his vote to the veto As Jofar collapses on the stage and the orchestra ascends to a crescendo, the elders of Karman, Mangar, Azam, and Eykal declare they added their votes to veto.
*the veto. As Jofar
Taking a break again, still loving this. I will say that this is one of the very, very few quests where I am reading every page of discussion as I catch up on the quest, instead of just reading the threadmarks. Because all the discussion and the RP and such are such a lovely, vital part of what makes this quest interesting and engaging. So kudos to all y'all, there.
 
Bounty of the South! In a transparent attempt to inure Nachivan to their heretical embrace of human bondage, southern prince-priests continue to ship food to the city in the thousands of talents. There is now such an abundance of such suspicious fruits as the 'banana', that many within the sect wishing to boycott suppliers cannot tell them apart from those resold by your own local grocer. These mangoes of malaise brought forth by the bearers of cruelty hold within them only pits of evil, and many disciples of the sect say they can taste the tears of the labourers who made them in the flavour of the flesh. Many new clubs and reading circles focused on oblate abolition attack this trickster's scheme, but it must be admitted that there is a fine sweet taste that many are not much accustomed to. Nevertheless! In honour of the oblate serfs, fasting is required, and rejection of the succulent but cursed slices of the southron 'orange'.
Despicable.

And I'm talking about Cetash...
 
But establishing a social market model for Vaspukaran where the workers, owners, and consumers are all represented stakeholders seems like a logical extension of theocratic principles, so that every industrial concern labors for the good of the nation and sanctifies the efforts of laborers for the glory of God.
If we somehow come to wield the power to majorly influence such a revolutionary transformation; I'd rather democratically empower the tillers & toilers of the Mouflons, Low Priesthood, & the overlapping Mass Jury over conceding any inch to the oppressing owners that is dominated by the golden calf-worshipping high priest & the hierarchical jurors the Scourge of God is aiming to supersede with Extinguishment. Granted, even with the extent of Vaspukaran industrialization I'm not opposed to democratic tiller/toiler cooperatives checked by progressive taxation laws being a method to build a foundation for democratic empowerment that replaces the temple-factories. Similar but I suspect not quite the same model to what Yam Soph & Morsi seeks. Such democratic empowerment first step towards tillers & toilers of the mouflons, low priesthood, & the overlapping Mass Jury achieving what is hopefully the ultimate political power by way of the Lesser & Greater Sanhedrons responsible to & recallable by sectoral federations of workplace communions.
 
An alternative is offered by the sect of Yam Soph, who draw on Iconoclast principles to argue for the emancipation of enterprise: End the inter-circle custom walls, abolish the order of the sacred wafer's hierarchical structure that allows them to manipulate bread prices, and end Metropolitan price-floors (as many self-governing Metropolitan cities have their own laws enforcing price maximums), and you will remove the idolatrous dams to the free flow of commerce.
*Order of the Sacred Wafer
Afraid that the current Sanhedron, not structured by any schismatic revolt but by the ambitions of the Patriarch, will surely lead to their destruction, they seek to cut it at the heels before it gains enough support to overwhelm them.
Oh, so you'd prefer a Sanhedron structured by a schismatic revolt? Well great news, this is exactly how you get a schismatic revolt going!
These split loyalties are warning signs that the Great Synod's attempt to force consensus by deceisive action is failing, reinforced by the messages directed straight to the Sanhedron affirming loyalty from the north and east, from the south and southwest.
*decisive
The frontiers, where there is already bubbling outrage over disunity in the center, dispatch borderline bloodthirsty messages threatening that 'those who split the House of God will be split in turn'. The Northern circle, with its vernacular Hospodari Rite and firmly pro-Sanhedron stance, declares its opposition to the 'Dogmatite bandits', a derogatory name that sticks against the Originators.
Nice.
Weeping, Archdeacon Dabami resigns from thr Sanhedron then and there, alongside several Juror and High Priest elders from the Originator circles.
*the Sanhedron
He believes she is more radical than she appears, and can surely be swayed to absorb the teachings of Pugilism, though he admits he is just one among many in her 'peculiar cast of plucky allies'.
If history Hollywood cinema has taught me anything, it's that a plucky band of ragtag rebels and oddballs literally can't lose a war with a vast and well-resourced state!

Also I kinda ship them tbh.
One thousand workers, most of them Jurors this is the most obvious Vaspukaran's industrial transformation, loud and vast and brutal, a complex that occupies a triangle as large as Tzinhas Barrack, helping fund the gilded pensions and stipends of the Jury of Nachivan's bloated ranks.
*most of them Jurors, this is the most obvious sign of Vaspukaran's industrial transformation
That's a speculative edit; as written it's just really hard to parse in that section and feels like there's at least one word missing.
And then the world rudely enters into the drama of Vaspukaran, rudely disturbing the self-obsession which has consumed since the beginning of the Sanhedron.
Word "rudely" repeats in the same sentence.
The Grand Mare is an island dominion, ruled by the HRM, a holy parliament of women, in alliance with the Ayan Admirality and Sipahi sealords who dominate the politics of the continental Outremare and its far-off holdings, and the judicial clergy who maintain adherence to the sanctity of its sublime court which long since overthrew its sultans.
Oh for fucksake. The harem parliament is the HRM? Fucking Outremare? You sick punster, you. Don't stop.
Dvorah thinks this is some tactic, or a unifying gambit by Santsarran - she cannot possibly see a war start over something so iconsequential, especially as the Mare is currently distracted elsewhere.
Ha ha, yes. Who ever heard of a major war between great powers erupting over a bomb being thrown at a diplomat, when a war like that would be against the actual interests of all participants! The very idea is crazy! There's no way!

Oh god please don't throw World War I into this continuous rolling clusterfuck.

Also, *inconsequential
Dvorah recently met for tea with Ghadan Nasir (who she says is profoundly grumpy and persnickity, the most pedantic man she's ever met) and reports that he thinks it a distraction from the true enemy, but that there are those who argue that the Mare and other enemies of Vaspukaran must be defeated for the Kingdom of God to triumph, for they will surely not allow any true reformation lest it endanger their own positions.
*persnickety
CW: This is a difficult update. Please be aware before you read.
Welp. Horrors of the industrial revolution, here we come.
For seventy-five years, the Jury of Nachivan has paved the path to heaven with bone-bricks and blood-martar.
*blood-mortar.
So tonight, on the 14th of Tislev, the Jury of Nachivan will activate a different incantation.
Oh. Oh no. We aren't getting the horrors of the industrial revolution. We're getting the fucking Night of Long Knives, but aimed at us.
Yoni, voice cracking, asks Akov to tell Chana that she taught him how to be brave, and Baba Tanda that she taught him how to be wise, though he admits he never was a good student.
Oh God, who is merciful. Yoni.
There's a shot. Akov shudders. Yoni falls. A masked Juror holds a smoking revolver. His own hand is shaking. The rest stop, gather themselves, then turn towards the crevice, as Akov finally pushes himself out into a main street. He breaks off into a sprint, running south to the safety of the inner city.

The Jurors disappear into the night, pulling their arm-broken brother whimpering back into the darkness. They leave behind Yoni on the ground, as blood mixes with the snow, and mouflons finally emerge, bleary-eyed, and try to tend to Yoni's wounds. But it is too late, always was too late: He is already dead.

It was three weeks from his eighteenth birthday.
Bastards. Murderers. Filth. Scurry away like plague-rats as you like, the light of justice shall ever find you out.
They may strike when they when wish, where they wish.
*when they wish
But this time, with the energy of the whole faithful focused on the Sanhedron, with the intensity of feeling, and the rage of souls alight with the hope of redemption, with the material transformations that have brought illumination of the telegraph and the printed word to every corner of the country, it does not work.
HERE WE FUCKING GO
The Eglantine Mill, where initial outreach proves difficult, sees girls arrive to work in mourning clothes, some of them personally commemorating Yoni himself, with woodcut portraits prepared by a friend of Kardon Hadi for handed out to those who ask, to be pinned to the breast above the heart.
*for handing out
Prayer Bulletin Bloom of Ziva runs interviews with the mothers, wives, and daughters of those killed. In a special pamphlet issue, the Pugilist bulletin Light Among the Nations goes even further, utilizing the unveiled mysteries of photography for an entirely new and shocking purpose. The Album is titled simply '14th of Tislev, 822 AA'. Photos are taken one by one of the dead and wounded and their grieving families. Flip the page, and see a new horror: a woman's body up against a temple door, blood trail sliding down. A mother with clothes rent, collapsed beside the casket of her son. Three children and a widow, all under twelve, clutching each other before the body of their father. A single caption under each: SWORD-ALTAR JUSTICE.
Look at what the bastards did. Look at what they did to our beautiful brave boy.
She then lists to the Sanhedron the names of each of the twenty-four killed in the midnight massacre, describing the nature of their death as elders of the Sanhedron set in hallowed silence.
*sit in hallowed silence
Cries of 'Bloody Men', and 'Murderers!' echo through the halls. Abbess Tessel Tori shouts to the rancarous applause of the whole assembly, as some suggest the Sanhedron might yield or disband, "that if in the end we should burn, better to burn together by the hands of Jurors, than burn separately in Hell!"
*rancorous

Also, I say this a lot in this quest, but I love her.
And to the northwest of the city, in a quiet cemetery, a sect bids farewell to their angel boy.
😭
Bukak keeps his hat off and his hands clasped, as he has a hundred times before.
...Yeah, I bet a labor organizer in this era has been to a lot of untimely funerals.
And then Chana, Chana who has known Yoni since they were children, who had just worked up the nerve to imagine a possible life together with him after he did the brave thing and finally asked her for her hand, who had always expected him there, a little silly, a little flippant, but wonderful all the same - Chana screams. It is ugly, bloodcurdling, unbroken, a piercing cry of her own grief. She collapses to the ground, and the nuns of the gunpowder Eucharist are around her holding her, and she cannot stop sobbing, as if in disbelief. Baba Tanda rushes to her, strips down her habit, tries to calm her down, as the men cover their faces, but Chana does not stop, cannot stop.

So instead, after too much of this, Baba Tanda starts to scream as well, in unison. One by one, the nuns follow, and then many of the rest of the women: the women of the sect heaving, sobbing, in a collective scream, the men standing vigil and holding back their own tears. It is not for themselves, but for her: if Chana must scream, if she must weep, then she will never be alone with her own agony. Louder, and louder, and louder, until it dissipates into a hoarse and whistling wheeze, and they fall back onto the muddy, half-frozen ground, shivering. They lay there together, for some time.
Oh God. Chana, poor dear Chana. Poor Baba Tanda, who has lost her own adoptive son. This evil cannot go unanswered.

Also, unrelated (sorta) to what is directly above... that feel when you're catching up on a quest, and you come across a major/contentious vote, and you know exactly what you would have argued for and why it could have been awesome, and then you read the thread picking Not That.

Ah well, such is questing.
Hokay, break time again. Picking back up next time at the next update after Chana's challenge to the sect at Yoni's funeral.
 
Let instead a thousand flowers bloom, and for the world to look upon our majesty, for us to be proud of what we are.
Oh wow, now I'm sure there would be no mass consequences from this! :V

Also, aw Sadbargar used to be self-hating becaused of the KoG's fucked treatment of Gushans. Although whether or not Sadbargar believes he's a Mahdi, if massive enough popular support grants him that title beyond the "witches" he could change his mind. Like, say, through the Mass Jury.

Avenger of the New Order - Guardian Burs to devastate the churlish yoke of history!
from Midnight Clock, a radical confessional epistle in the Central Navel
Lmao this is bringing to mind the not-really-critical support for figures or states by certain ideological subgroups today. I love that Ghadan Nasir, whose Ohr sect originated from Confession, shows how different the principles of High & True Confession has become.

Meanwhile, Burs flirting with Patriarchate power-expanding ideology & then changing his mind when he got into power, as Cetash highlighted elsewhere, is pretty on brand for some politicians lol.

Reaper of Five Evils - The Good Vashti welcomed to gospel of illumination!
from Light Among the Nations, a Pugilist Epistle in the Western Navel

H e c k Y e ah, and since we focus on building our base in clearing out the old older of Central Vaspukaran we're gonna be interacting with Metamoa Minyans a lot, praise be! Also, does this indicate San confirming Vashti's claim to Ravhood?

Triune Idols of the East - False Gods Brawl for the scraps of falling Heaven!
from Cosmic Harmonics, Iconoclastic Epistle in Gabbana
Scary as always, but also with great points to call for. Such as, as Oshana clarified, the fact that the Nullifier Jury will one day be opposed to our support of the Mass Jury...

Oshana: "In words made simple (Iconoclasm has not yet discovered how to abolish the idol of verbosity):
Pffft.

It's time to obliterate them customs walls & replace them with saner taxes. But aw, the Gunpowder Eucharist seems to not have much candidates wanting to rep them through HaKhofshim alignment. Hope that changes after we finished internalizing & enacting early measures on women empowerment this turn. Also...there's the problem of Tata Targon's political machine.

Aaand here's Tata's move:
The Targon Tournament!
Yooo rugby football! I'm now an undying fan of our sect's very own Seventy-Seven Flying Fists of Justice! Also a method to further expand our mass sections, especially the Ravs of Labor (peep the history of working class groups' identification with some fan groups IRL).

Bounty of the South!
Obviously the boycott is due to the serf-manned banana plantations, but I wonder if there's also a cursed United Fruit Company-thing down South?

Rebuild, Rebuild, Rebuild your House Soon!
Interesting that it's also Kenturah's project. Anyways, go get that bread Khoffers.

Abolish Forms - An Exhibition Without Limits!
Ooh we're getting into the abstract art forms. Hmmm I guess this is an overlap of Morsi's legitimate interest in abstract art & appealing to fellow Iconoclasts (he got Oshana oh God oh fucc).

Abbot Werikam's Insight - Behold the tiny agents of pure evil!
Germ theory! This is massive. Sarbadgar's also showing his smarts here by making the connection to infection.

Beside it, a note with triple-underline by Dvorah: 'We are Going and that is an order'. Underneath, in a rougher script, 'Yes, ma'am'.
LMAO

Edit: I posted this now to avoid double-posting lol
Edit2: relocating this one here

Alas, it is a regrettable truth, that there is no ethical proselytization under capitalism.
...okay this is a banger, I'll find a way to use it in this thread in the future
 
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Attack and Challenge God
I see what you did there.
Akov's Note: By God, has it already started? Is this what has come to our comrades in Black Elephant? I had thought them doomed forever...God is good, God is good. There is little we can do from Nachivan, but this quote is surely from Dvorah's piece - it has been printed as far as Dvarim! I had not even dared to think it...
Out fucking standing. Dvorah continues to be an absolute chad.
In her ranks, this correspondent has learned, she gathers a priest with tongue of fire, a witch of the Lekgolo flesh-swallowing wood, a Juror rogue, a Cheshvan bandit, and an elder peddler and sorcerer.
Nice to see Qanam rates a mention, even if it's not by name.
It is a dictate of Pasan Ghadi that the woman is the beacon of liberty, and let the daughters, wives and mothers who read this know: Be as Vashti, and you shall never be allowed to forgot your own glory!
Hell yes. Vashti d'Metamoa really out here putting the "militant" into "militant feminism." Based and punchpilled.
Speedily yes speedily, in our days soon, God rebuild, God rebuild, God Rebuild your house soon!"
Is the last "rebuild" meant to be capitalized like that? Unclear if that's a rhetorical flourish or a typo.
Rather than clippings from news, this is rumors that you've been able to gather either from the street or simply by word of mouth from disciples of the sect.
*these are rumors
Already overstretched in a restive city, the Jury of Nachivan has declined to dispute the order, and one haughty officer who tried to patrol with a squad was greeted in his own home by Tata Targon, playing with his daughter on his lap (a fact Tata Targon proclaimed proudly from his monastery a day after). The officer did not enter again.
Big Silco vibes for Tata Targon tbh.
News from your Neighborhood - There has been a stream of well-wishes from the surrounding neighborhood for HaKhofshim and Ma'On. The proceeds of a recent cassowary fighting match has been donated to us , and some of the girls from the factory upstairs have come to sit shiva for Yoni during a break during work. There have also been huge marches, organized by Ma'On and with our cooperation. The Great Synod, apparently, has demanded that the Jury of Nachivan break up our 'mourning hordes', but for whatever reason, the Jury has refused to provide additional garrisons to the House of Creation, which has led some Archdeacons of the Great Synod to leave Nachivan outright, fleeing either for their home circles or to Harasdad. A local school of well-to-do and its Maranine dean have been fundraising coats and warm blankets for our own children. On the 23rd of Tislev, enough snow fell, and there were enough well-dressed children, that a few disciples coming out from mourning even urged the children into a fight of balled snow. It became somewhat competitive, however, and once Tanda and Dvorah were involved it was hazardous, as the two dueled up and down the street. Chana did not join, but did drink warm coffee from the porch of the Temple, watching with the ghost of a smile.
Heartwarming. It's great to see the community pulling together in this time of tragedy.
There is a list of benefits, including 'extraordinary virility' - It is circled, and in Dvorah's handwriting, underlined, it is written 'WENDAM - BUY THIS NOW'.
LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It's official, Dvorah best girl. Of course, Baba Tanda also best girl. Sisters of the Gunpowder Eucharist also best girls. Rejoice brethren and sistren, for truly our cup of best girls runneth over!
Zarnai Unveiled - The Most Extraordinary Pagan Land Reviewed - in between being one of the most inflammatory elders in the Sanhedron Pontiff-Prelate Samangan continues to be one of its most amusing. In a review for a travel compendium by the 'scholar-adventurer' Friar Bram, Samangan writes that Bram 'is as poor a liar as he is an archaeologist and writer'. Samangan outlines a massive number of absolute falsehoods about both the history and present of the Mission of Zarnai that Friar Bram indulges in, and spends a section of the review pulling apart Bram's obsession with the 'docile and yet nubile heathen women of this mountain country'. He concludes by sharing his own actual account of Zarnai, in which he spent three weeks on the run from local authorities after attempting to return a stolen scroll of Moonsong hymns to a pagan conservatory on the Shevan Sea, and provides quotes from local bulletins from the local priesthood denouncing him as the 'harbinger of heathenry' to prove it.
An absolute gigachad. God bless this man.
As the grass of the Hamgad Steppe is every summer burned to refresh the soil, so to must the grass of the old order be burned to refresh Vaspukaran.
*so too
The factory upstairs is not heated, but the Mekdash is, so on their break working girls come down and warm themselves and listen to the sermons hosted by Galavani Chana, then walk back upstairs and warn their boss that if he dares treat them badly the gun-nuns will march up to the second floor and beat him half to death.
Hell yes. Fear the gun-nuns, o ye wicked!
master martial artist of the grappling one-tusk art Guru Uirtavira Senkelzester, better known as Blind Man's Bluff, the No-Eyes Annihilator
Metal.
It is the brotherhood of misbegotten sons, organized into a concentrated sect 20,000 strong that controls the western navel with greater strength than the Jury of Nachivan itself.
*Western Navel
Through street squadrons who elect street gurus who answer to sect councils who elect sect gabbis and sect cantors, Ma'on has become the streets and avenues of the western navel, its protector and its guardian.
*Western Navel
The Ghadim ultrapugilists cannot compete with its commitment to social justice, nor the ferocity of Ma'on's community of toughs, who in their every action seek to glorify God by exalting his lost boys to the status of defenders of the peace.
Okay, I like this explanation of Ma'on's nature and purpose.
Guru Bluff himself speaks to the matter as they partake in the hospitality of HaKhofshim: that the woman is sacred, and Ma'on seeks to defend women. If they can defend themselves, Guru Bluff admits with the scratch of his head, then that is all the better, for there will always be others in need of help, and they could use the women's help as well.
Guru Bluff is based and gunpowder-pilled.
And when they hear the story of Yoni, the tough men of Ma'on do nothing more than weep, and some bang their fists in solidarity. It is not enough, they cry, that they cut down our elders who will guide us forth, but also the children who will be our future, brave boys who should not have to be so brave as to sacrifice their lives.
Behold, unfragile masculinity, as unafraid to shed tears for the innocent as to strike down the wicked.
But Guru Bluff points out that it would be wiser for this to happen once at a time: Ma'on is prepping, just as much as HaKhofshim surely is, for a potential confrontation with the Jury Nachivan.
*one at a time
[] The Women of the darkest night. Ma'on will work with the Gunpowder Eucharist to provide protection and investigate abuses of female sex workers who work in challenging conditions on an effectively illegal basis within the taverns of Nachivan.
I really, really hope the thread takes this one, even if past precedent rather tempers that hope.
As Pugilists you understand this was always a falsehood, a deceitful lie meant to trick the tillers and toilers to look above for succor, but this is well beyond that: It is a relishing of immiseration, a joy in crushing of the downtrodden as not just inevitable but just.
This is the future as seen by the demiurgic class: a boot stomping on a human face forever, and called the will of God.
Let all agree, as the Pasan Ghadi once said: That those who think this world the best of all are those who profit from it most of all!
And to this we all say, Amen!
A humiliation to the lineage Huygarani whose eldest daughters had always been called 'dolls of the mountains'.
*lineage of
She was twelve when they threw Gazanya on the street. She had lain with her uncle Jurni and become despoiled by him. A maid cannot be pregnant, and a witch's spawn is a bother for the household, her mother well-assured her. Jurni himself was lightly chastised by her father, to stop being such a fool, but otherwise all merely shook their head. Gazanya had been everything to her, and then she was nothing at all.

When Dvorah wept for her, her mother hugged her and said, oh my dear: She was after all just a witch.
Sounds a lot like victim-blaming on top of everything else wrong with this; I doubt very much that a witch maid is afforded much room to say no.
You will go to study at a good Yeshiva, her father orders, and she says confirms, yes father.
*and she affirms, yes father
This is her chance for them to look at as that which she is: a Huygarani, of proud lineage, old and august.
*to look at her as that which she is
She hits a nun over the head with a plate and puts another in a headlock until she is unconscious just like Baba Tanda showed her, then escapes her cell on the mountainside by way of rope and tied bedcloth. She steals a sari and perfume from a local manor the way Qanam said he'd steal from the Cheshvan baggage train, then intimidates the railway monks to let her ride to Yomri.
The power of friendship is a path to abilities some (misogynists) would call... unnatural.
The sages gather for a picture, and she wonders if perhaps she is out of place, too elegant, too high, but Baba Tanda gives her a rare smile, and Wendam squeezes on her hand, and Qanam gives her a curt nod and Akov looks at her as if she is a prophet of the world to come.

And at last, Dvorah knows to what lineage it is that she belongs, and to what she owes her loyalty: to that of the free, and to those yearning to be free, for now, and forevermore.
Wholesome as shit.
Five years ago Sarbadgar, against the orders of the High Jury, took them to fight the Mare, and were part of the some of the most pivotal battles of the war, that broke the advance of the Garden Corps in Dargang Circle.
*part of some of the
He has, from the beginning of his life, been taught the cold lessons of hierarchy such as exists nowhere else in Vaspukaran. And it is because of that, and because of Dvorah's writing on extinguishment, that he has called on you.
Dvorah continues to be an absolute beacon of our movement.
All of this is to say that he would like to arm you.

Results: Alliance formed with Varhan Sarbadgar...? Did a komandir just say he wishes to arm us?
Sick. The wicked may seek to ignore our voices, but the voice of a gun is not so easily disregarded.
In a true street-war, the western navel is critical: it contains the synod, one of the major avenues to the Heavenly Mount, Vikrag Prison, and the bridge connecting the southern section of the city, with its own radical sects who would need to cross to aid you.
*Western Navel
And on the 29th of Tislev, also, a pamphlet appears everywhere on the streets of Nachivan, anonymously printed: It advocates that the High Priesthood be abolished, and distinctions ended between the chambers.
Esterkezy? Is that you?
It is a day of merriment. A day of calm. A day of peace.

A day no one would suspect.
Ah, shit. Those murderers and plague-rats who stole our Yoni's life plot vileness and heresy once more.
Baba Tanda slams steel-toed boots into the ground and makes a tremendous racket, and the disciples are shaken from their stupor. The Guns of Hasadaya, brothers, the rifles of Sarbadgar, sisters, she shouts. The Six-Shin-Aluf, everyone, she demands. Unfurl it.

Wendam is shaken. Dvorah is pale-faced. Akov is grim and ashen. But Baba Tanda shouts, and then shouts louder, barking orders that all follow. And now the crowd is watching too, the crowd of the panicked on the street, the horde of the people who are filing out from everywhere. Who had their days off. Who now whisper of murder. Of Apostasy. Of Treason. Of Attack.

Who demand justice.
All hail Baba Tanda, the Steelspine, who cannot be bowed and who refuses to break. She shall show us the way.
And the banner of justice's come.
...I would suggest *the banner of justice has come.
Mam-Four Nun, the Hand of God, Banner of Ma'on
I really love all the flags and standards and such that you come up with so much. They're beautiful and evocative and just. Mwah. Chef kiss.
More volunteers come out, some of them the girls from the factory upstairs, some the cassowary fighters, some merchants, some mouflons, some low priests.
And the cassowary fighters were heard to remark, that one who will fight a cassowary would be shamed were they afraid to face a mere machine-gun.
But if thy hoped for simple victory, a quiet triumph and a temple coup, they have made a grave mistake.
*they hoped
The only option is that which Pugilists learn from their first lesson: to thrust a fist, to the jaw of evil.
The only way out is through. So let evil beware.
Creature of his chamber or no, if the Patriarch is captured and the holy ghost put into jeapardy it will be a Temple Coup.
*jeopardy
In Sasan Bazaar, the merchants join the uprising, break the doors down of the customs office, and burn its inside to nothing more than ash.
*insides
So says the first book of Amalgast, that 'the believer may break observance when their soul is under threat', and there has never been a great danger to the collective of God's eternal city.
*greater
Some do not return but many do, and shout of Juror columns coming to Septuagant Square, and from Yataryn Gate, that another column coming directly for the komandir Sarbadgar, come to put him down.
*column is coming
The senior of the Khofshim, a young excitable girl by the name of Elana, bobs her head up and down several times at Muri's plan as he complains they lack munitions, then produces the modern rifle she's hidden in her dress, and other Khoffers unveil ammo kept in baskets and their own rifles kept wrapped up in their rags. And Muri and Canassatego share a look, and then produce two warm smiles.

"Then, dear brothers and dear sisters, the time has come to row our boat to Sakarog's salvation."
The Gunpowder Sisters come through again!
It has also left it vulnerable. Sword-Altar standard has been organized into blades and shields, the blades to attack and seize positions in the city and the shields to hold strongpoints. But the shield that has been left for Vikrag is exceedingly under-garrisoned, the Standard drawn thin across the many forts of the city and having to commit its main forces to the main offensive on the Mount.
Ohhhhhhhhhhh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit storming of Vikrag here we GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Now, with their defense secured, Chana goes against her orders, and sees an opening unlike any other. She prays to God, and holds the little wishbone Yoni gave her on the night at the museum, then waves the standard Six-Shin Aluf and directs the mob to storm across the moat before the drawbridge closes. She counts on one fact: Vikrag is built as a prison, not a fort, and has never endured a true attack.
Chana is truly a Rav of Ballers. The Prophet of Chaddom. The Gunpowder Abbess.

I actually rather like that last one, in fact. Pretty natural evolution for the Convent to have an Abbess, anyway.
There's a near-stalemate, but a local artisan has an idea: he calls them to pull down nearby bronze statue of a High Priest of the Synod.
*a nearby
The starshy is stabbed near to twenty times, passed around from person to person to cut and spit upon as an apostate until he collapses to the ground dead.
*Starshy
Chana leads them out, now outfitted with the arsenal of Vikrag, screaming:

Justice, Justice, Justice for Yoni, Justice for HaKhofshim, justice for Ma'on, Justice for us all!
*Justice for Ma'on

Also yes, by God. Justice for Yoni.
The Six-Shin Aluf flies from Vikrag Prison. The main Juror garrison inside the Navel falls. And at once, everything changes. This is not a simple coup. It is not a surgical and clever effort to capture the Patriarch.

This is the flood, unleashed by its first unwitting targets.
And God then sent forth a great deluge, to cleanse the wicked from the Kingdom of God.
Atop a battlement of Karogen Academy, he watches statuesque with his hand within his jacket as a bulletsplitter crew shreds the flower of Nachivan's Juror nobility, smoke rising and distant screams drowned out by the trilling fifes and throat-singing howls of the Pale Horse.
Is it bulletspitter or bulletsplitter? It's consistently rendered as "bulletsplitter" in this update, but "bulletspitter" seems to make more sense intuitively.
Standard of the Pale Horse
Holy shit. I can't say this every time, but I love love love all the standards and such you come up with. Let this stand in for all the other times I would say it, because I would say it every single fucking time.
From the alleyways stream a new group of fighters, with swords and lances, halberds and coil-whips, muskets and revolvers. Samurai in their ironwood armor fight with katanas, cutting down the routing column of Sword-Altar as it retreats beyond the walls of the See of Nachivan. At the head, with a turban massive and a moustache well-oiled, is Bhadan Hadat, once exiled, now returned as grandmaster of the berserker Trance-Knights of the Divine Mystery. Beside him, held high and lofty, is another, novel banner: The branches of the Tree of Life descending into a singular Spiral of Truth root at which is said to lie God.

As Hahayiim, the Mystic Amalists, are here.
This whole update really do just be

View: https://media.giphy.com/media/iiWNJGLdIZdQfOeOPj/giphy.gif
Also, syncretic mystic samurai are based as fuck.
Ordering all assembled to kneel, in the heady heat of the deluge, he responds to Akov's beginning of the oath of the Jurors with his own: Demanding of each man before him to vow to defend Nachivan, to defend the Patriarch, the Sanhedron, but above all, and before all, to defend the Home of God.

And each man answers with a cheer and an affirmation of the vow, hand held before his chest, and Sarbadgar then declares: With the power vested in me as a Komandir, I declare you, replacing the accursed Sword-Altar Standard, the Mass Jury of Vaspukaran, each of you made Jurors here and then!

And with sudden euphoria the mouflons, and low priests, even penitents and witches, all accept their title, and as Sarbadgar rears his horse back, draws his sword, and points towards east, they rush forward, banners fluttering as they march to save the Sanhedron.

This is the flood, and now it has an army.
Fuckin' A. Those who unleashed the flood truly knew not what they wrought.
Some contemplate to unbar the doors and at least let the elders flee, but then, a warhorn, and a familiar banner: Here is the Six-Shun Aluf, and the Hand of God, and the Western Navel!
Pugilists: "On your left."
But Sword-Altar pulls itself together, closes ranks, and pushes forward: Emplaced now with their own barricades and spearhead on the street, they fire volley after volley, and one well-aimed cannon shot even breaks in the front door of the Sanhedron, to which Elder Massima Rachel reacts by calmly shouting, hands trembling that the Sanhedron has not given them leave to enter, and yells for the elders to fortify the doors with their own seats, as this is the time to stand and fight.
*hands trembling,

Elder Massima Rachel is also based as fuck. You love to see it.
But then, from the west, storming through the thoroughfares, beneath the banner of a spiral and an angel and a hand and a pale horse, the saviors of the Sanhedron. Blowing on a trumpet, accompanied by throat singers and standard bearers, Sarbadgar gallops forth, leaps a barricade, and beheads an officer with the swing of a saber: Behind him, the Scourge attacks and machine-guns are emplaced, emptying into the now retreating men of Sword-Altar as they break and flee to the north.
Get absolutely wrecked, shit-dicks.
But to sighs of relief, Sarbadgar dismounts, walks before Samangan, and bows, cap doffed. And Samangan, who has never liked Jurors, always despised them, truly, raises him up by the shoulders, and pulls him into an embrace, as the elders of the Sanhedron burst into tears. Impromptu, composed and sung first by the choir outside of whom half the members have been killed, the Sanhedron breaks into a song: They will call it, in time, the Battle Hymn of the Apocalypse.

This is the flood, and now it has a psalm.
Sing it, brothers and sisters! Sing it so loud that God in his heaven can hear it echo and know that there is no need to send a flood to cleanse the wicked today, for one is already here!
Baba Tanda leads the defense, holding her revolver up and asking if any would not dare not to fight if a grandma like her is willing to risk her old bones. None challenge her, and all join in.
Baba Tanda: Behold, my field of fucks. See that I have none left to give.
Still, it will be a slaughter, and the disciples come here now the students are well and surely doomed: The fortifiers of Septuagant Square have already broken and fled before the rush of Sword-Altar's onslaught.
*know that the students
He knows that everything wise that has happened today is not of his making, that the trap set for Sword-Altar was not his but that komandir's and Kenturah's.
Kenturah kind of the secret MVP of the revolution tbh.
Through all his life, Kobatai has denied he has had a mission, that God has had a plan for him. He has been an apostate, even, at his lowest, a denier of God himself. But now, now. He grips the favour as he mounts his horse and a servant flares his wings, as he gathers up his men at the gate.

Now, he knows what the mission God has planned for him is, and what moment he has brought him to. And as he orders his men to couch lances, and orders the gates opened, he knows by what instrument he will execute God's own will.

By the trample of his hoofbeats, and the fury of his charge, like a legend of the Cham Yataryn, come again.

For this is the flood, and now it has its legend.
Kobatai: If this is to be our end, then I would have us make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance. Let this be the hour when we couch lances together. Fell deeds awake. Now for wrath, now for ruin, and the red dawn. Forth the Mothguard!
A patchwork of the colors of Vaspukaran, arranged from black to white, hastily conceived and put together by weavers in Old Nach and held aloft by Teoch for his ship, the sevensquare is the promise of the new. Vaspukaran does not need only the implements of the old, to appeal to old rites and old demands, but to create a Kingdom of God on earth by reforging the covenant with the Lord above.

This is the flood, and now it has its flag.
Behold the sigil of the flood, and know that it shall not be brooked!
...Ruh roh.
News come to the city, as concussive rumors passing through like lightning The first since the beginning of the day, it is a tale that strikes despair and wrath: The circles of Titarkulan, Ralabarak, and Warabad, either out of malice or in the confusion, perhaps believing the Patriarch dead, have declared for the Originating Principle and the Great Synod.
*like lightning.

Also, well. Shit.
we warriors of the tricorn hat!
This is an awesome poem and I love it, but Jurors wear four-corner AKA quadcorn hats, not tricorns.
The is the Sword and the Altar in one, an apparition of death, whose blank face betrays no thought, no feeling, no doubt, no humanity.
*He is
they see the mask without humanity, the black cloak stained with gunpowder and blood, they see the glinting bayonette, and they see that the shadow of Death has been sent to stalk them upon the earth.
*bayonet
All he sees are the bodies scattered around him, fell half by his hand, half by the wake of death that follows after him.
*felled

This was an incredibly powerful short story/omake. Chilling and stirring and genuinely wonderful.
(OOC: consider: les misZEBrables)
Get out.

(that was actually really good tho)
Notorious troubadour, madrassa bully, and war hero Hari Rashman is one of the most celebrated men of the Grand Mare's modern age.
You didn't. You fucking didn't.

(you did and I love you forever for it)
A romance to sigh endlessly over for years after, of course, but one in which she is surely in control.

I was very mistaken.

Esterkezy Oshana is a striking rogue with a shock of crimson hair, workman's clothes, pointed boots and scandalous Vasp trousers. She sits backwards on a chair in the remains of a burnt customs house when I come in, rolling the cylinder of a Mare revolver and clicking the hammer, watching me with unrestrained amusement as if I am a jester come to entertain her (after some thought I admit I would not entirely mind the role). Tilting her head lightly to the side, she asks me how Leyla is, and I answer very quickly that she is doing splendidly and expressed some concern about her cypress tree. Expertly inspecting her revolver and loading it with bullets, Oshana does not look up as she tells me to assure her sweet tulip she is doing well, but that the day is not yet won, and that she is pleased her love has lent her support to the deluge come to wash away the old.
If the thread doesn't vote to spend any time on Esterkezy after this I will be so profoundly agitated I swear to fuckin' god.
Of course the Mare cannot be seen as supporting any faction in Vaspukaran, but if during a sincere ahem, diplomatic mission in a crisis, a few good men and say, a stockpile of arms, find themselves in the right hands, the Harem might look the other way...
*sincere, ahem, diplomatic mission
L, and I must emphasize this, MFAO.
So say we all!
The legal scholar and high priest Elder Tobara Jegersan walks to the door of the House of Creation. The elder knocks three times, and asks if any archdeacon of the Great Synod objects to their entry. With nothing but silence on the other side, he backs up, says the Sanhedron thus claims it as its property, and kicks the front door off its hinges.
Fantastic.
He asks Yulda reach out her hand, and he kisses it with the sloppy gratitude of a man spared from execution, then looks up to HaKhofshim, and says to them:

"You found me in the dirt, naked and bare, kicking in my blood, and as I lay there in my blood, you said to me: live!"

It is a quote from the Tesserateuch, said by a famed pauper, Horo, to Amalgast, who raised him up from nothing to a position as a general. For a High Priest to say it is the world turned upside down: it is not the pauper who looks to the priest, but the priest to the pauper. The metaphor is understood, and as Samangan rises up he is mobbed by affection and adoration by the sect. Wendam claps him on the back, Bukak gives him a firm handshake, Dvorah kisses him on the cheek as he remarks, red-faced, that his wife Dina would have things to say on this as the HaKhofshim chuckle. He even locks eyes with Akov, still in a juror's patchy uniform, and he apologizes, says that he sees now that there are those among his chamber who will stand and fight for freedom, gesturing also to Sarbadgar. Akov bashfully shrugs his narrow shoulders and mutters indeed, some try, attempting to hide his grin from ear to ear as other disciples of the Scourge dance and perform angelforms in euphoric joy. Baba Tanda looks on ruefully and mocks that the young have no sense of discipline in celebration even as she joins in.
Holy shit, what an incredible moment for the sect.
And neither would have been possible, without the help of Nachivan, the most extraordinary naval battle in Vasparak history. For from its drydock, a beast awakens, stirred from its slumber by the intrigue of heroes and the audacity of its stalwart crew.

The ship Sakarog is setting off to war.
Hahahaha yessssssss!
Great Ship Sakarog
Gruesome Monster of the Deep
Great Ship Sakarog
It's your souls she's come to reap
Appropriately for an ironclad, this is metal as fuck.
Wielding her conductor's staff, Mina orders the students, armed mostly with revolvers, prop muskets, or string instruments wielded as warhammers to prepare to open fire, even as Maya proposes perhaps she might give herself up and save them all. Mina gives her a withering gaze, insisting simply she is a member of the audience and it is the Conservatory's duty to ensure hospitality.
Maya and Mina are both amazing and deserve much love.
Yes, Maya, surmises, the death-in-arms would be preferable to this.
*Yes, Maya surmises,
Already, he announces, they have been broken: Kardon Hadi, that leg-starved lunatic, has broken through with nothing more than mobs, cannons, an armored and carriage, and the help of some artisan friar named Dorion who has to be the angriest cabinet-maker he has ever seen.
*armored carriage
*Doron, IIRC
Tata Targon is of course pleased to have saved an elder of the Sanhedron, not to mention such a wonderful composter.
Unless Mina has a heretofore unsuspected agricultural hobby, I suspect this should be *composer.
As with any truly ancient standard, it is the product of centuries, an artifact of a different age carried forward to the present by the careful preservation of its practicioners of faith, who maintain the cult for time immemorial.
*practitioners
Chana, on the other hand, has been prepared to die for weeks, and does not hesitate as she sings more lines of that sacred verse:
Oh, Chana. No, child. You still have much for which to live, and your brothers and sisters in God shall show this to you.
In Fort Karnak, a dramatic explosion, fire rising up, debris raining down. Someone has tunneled underneath the fort's arsenal, and blown it to the sky. The Jurors there, who could be raining cannon-shot upon the attack, are distracted.
Distracted? Yes, I'd damned well imagine them to be "distracted" by their own magazine blowing sky-high in their midst.
From the south, an acapella choir screeches sounds of war. A banner flies from the first line of the southern fortifications of Sword-Altar, then from the second. A flash of scarlet hair, and orders yelled out in the language of the Mare, and the rupturing explosion of bombs thrown up against barricade walls.
Hari Rashman has done it again.
The woman introduces herself as Esterkezy Oshana, scrutinizing Sarbadgar and winking at Chana, who is absolutely unsure how to take the kindly gesture, so she merely does an angelform pose and Oshana quirks a brow.
Tfw you wink at a pretty girl, and she spontaneously strikes a martial arts pose in a fit of social awkwardness. I think Chana might be too young for her, but if not then I kinda want to ship them now.
Approaching from the rubble-made streets near Fort Karnak, they announce themselves accordions, harmonicas, war klezmer and the fiddles of errant students who skipped their classes for the sake of radicalism.
*themselves with

Also, lmfao at "war klezmer."
Sarbadgar informs the southern sects of the situation, and they advise him in turn of their own, that they have managed to fight back the Juror attack, seize Doshan Castle, undermine Karnak, and destroy its arsenal The fort remains untaken, but it will no longer pose a great hazard as its garrison fights the flames, and even now the Sakarog bombards its walls, drawing fire away to the river.
Needs a period after "arsenal."
The first targets of their ire will be the most familiar: the lightly armed and ill-prepared uprising of Hendar, that the exarchs bray to them to cut down to stop the toiler mouflons from claiming control of their own destiny and grasping the illuminating light of God for themselves. The three komandirs, joined by a hesitant Reganan of Sword-Altar, agree, and declare that they will shear the sheep. The time for mercy, the time for focus, the time for coup, has passed. Now is the time of righteous massacre.
AOAB. All Originalists Are Bastards.
In the center, Guru Wendam, called by those he leads as Wendam the Wall, holds the center along Baba Tanda the Terror, as columns of the interlopers funnel themselves into the killing fields of cannons and bulletspitters prepared for ambush in the alleyways, and ambushes led by the most trained sect-fighters.
Wendam the Wall and Tanda the Terror are both fantastic noms de guerre to earn. I really want Chana to get one too, now, though I don't know that her name lends itself to this kind of straightforward alliterative naming schema. Perhaps she could be the Hot Lead Nun?
The offensive starts in the same way as it did in Hendar: simultaneous attacks down the throughways, but now with less artillery fire in acknowledgement they cannot totally level the Navel as they did an exarchate. But here the Jurors of Sufgar find themselves not facing a lightly armed uprising but an omnifarious amalgamation of every armed faction in the city, thousands upon thousands strong, with time to fortify and time to mobilize half the population of the city.
Easy mode is over, fuckers. Welcome to war when the people you're trying to murder can hit back.
In the Sanhedron, there is growing concern as Samangan discusses further evacuation, and Massima Rachel, overtaken by emotion, yells down at him from her seat within the square inner chamber that too many have died for their sake for them not to do the same, before walking out of the chamber and going outside to take up arms. She is only talked down by Akov, a fellow Nesri, who holds the defensive line around the Sanhedron. He begs her to sit down, and advises her that their role is meaningful as well, that they dare not lose more Elders to the threat of battle. Finally, she accedes, and goes back down, pacing back and forth.
Massima Rachel continues to be great. Also, I totally want to ship her and Akov now.
It is the eclipse of Sword-Altar, the revenge of the truest orthodoxy of them all. An army of 10,000, with hats conical and sandals and arms rifled stream in from the south, having dismounted from the railway just south of the city so as not to threaten themselves with the artillery of Fort Karnak. At their head, with a helm of a smiling lion, riding atop a war moa, the bastard Prince Sen, his eyes purple as his mother's and hair black as his father's, has come to make his mark on history. Well-feasted, well-met, and well-prepared for war, the men of Prince Sen's Black Army, partaking in the Melik's melee touranment were ordered to go forth and conquer so soon as news from Nachivan came to Ondan Usral.
a), Prince Sen: "There may come a day when the faith of Usral fails. But today is not that day." Epic as fuck.
b), *tournament
I invoke the Bull Obliterative, and utter the names of those enclosed for the last time.

For those so named, you will be erased, consigned to oblivion. Your souls shall not ascend, but will instead dissipate to nothing.

From dust, to dust, fading from a world that has forgotten you.

For you, there will be naught but ash. For me, there will be a thousand years times a thousand more.

I command the faithful:

Bring down the sky, and tear to pieces these creatures who have trespassed in the home of God.
Holy shit. San is comprehensively and entirely done with fucking around.
Inside, an exhaustive list including the Sufgar Synod, much of the membership of the Great Synod, the Sword-Altar Standard and the Fossil Antique Banner, the Alanar Synod, the Ischak Synod the Kazach Palatine - in effect, all who stood with the Originators, along with the northern Exarchs of the city.
*the Ischak Synod,
Sen's own forces rush north to try and beat Morsi to Tzinhas, even as the families of the Jurors Sword-Altar ttake flight and flee for the railways west of the eradicated Tzinas station Tzinhas.
*take flight
*the eradicated Tzinhas station.
Retreating as many of his units as he can to Tzinhas Barrack, Reganan tries to open terms, but Morsi replies from atop his horse he does not negotiate with corpses.
So long, you rancid shits. You won't be missed. As the artillery comes to usher you from this world and into the nothingness of deserved Obliteration, please hold this truth in your hearts: one of these shells is from Yoni.
Immediately, the following reforms are committed by near-unanimous decree of the Sanhedron:
  • That the Sanhedrons outside Nachivan will be recognized as equal bodies to the synods of those circles
  • That the Great Synod is abolished now and forever, as is the Jury of Nachivan/Sword-Altar Standard.
  • That the Mass Jury is formalized as a unified body of holy warriors sworn to the Sanhedron.
  • That vote by chamber is ended, and the Sanhedron shall hereby vote by head.
  • That all taxation within the Kingdom of God will be comprehensively reviewed by the Sanhedron.
  • That the Sanhedron will not end in six months, but continue indefinitely.
  • That the Sanhedron will not restrict itself to financial matters.
  • That the Nasi will not step down, and will be elected to the Sanhedron on an annual basis as a speaker for the assembly.
Holy shit, we literally just invented parliamentary governance.

Right, time for a break probs. Coming back on the update after the riot vote on what things to suggest the Sanhedron should add to their reform bull.
 
Turn 4, 822 Tislev: The Midnight Bull [Scripture]
Based as fuck throughout.
There is a chance. There is a chance, slim, in this world of eaten dreams, that the Patriarch may remember who he was so long ago when a little slave boy dying in a bed of straw, his eyes obscured by oozing pus, saw the face of God. That he might recall the promises to his flock made so long ago, that he might be the Amalgast that Amalgast once was. But there is also the reality of power, the yoke of history, the facts of a world that has so long accreted injustice that the knees buckle of the many holding up its edifice. Nachivan has fought, Nachivan has survived, but will it yet live?
The question of the hour.
And the Patriarch puts his face into his hands, he who was a dark horse, he who was elected in the eleventh hour, who he was an enigma of his chamber and now becomes its traitor and he shudders, and says to them: Have I not seen my city broken? Have I not seen my people in the streets? Have I not seen children orphaned, mothers widowed, fathers crippled? Have I not seen the evil of evil men a thousand times a thousand times? What prophet do you think me, for you to beg of me? Should I not be begging you, that I have abandoned you? I did so just so, for the safety of my family and the safety of my kingdom, that I not be used as mouthpiece for evil, but for what cost? What have they done to you, my children, that you think to beg me?
Unbelievably based. The man was a true champion of reform all along.

Also, *he who was an enigma
Tears fall drip down the edges of the mask, and Kenturah leans into him, and the elders hold their breath. They mutter: Does this truly mean redemption? Can it be so, after all this time?

The Patriarch roars, then explodes up: Did I not say to you, that for those who defended God, that there would be an age of Miracles?

And against the midnight Bull, he slams his seal, smoke wafting, Mothguard hitting spears in celebration, Elders cheering, dancing, embracing one another, rushing up to mob the Patriarch in gratitude, held back by the Mothguard who themselves cannot help but break their composure and grin beneath their long moustaches.

The Patriarch puts up his hands, silencing the chamber, beckoning Kenturah to stand as well, from whose visage happy tears fall like rain.

From the darkness, he declares, and into the light, for the beloved of our beloved God, and let us make a world of wonders!
Epic. As. FUCK.

Also, *fall dripping
They stream from the alleyways and neighborhoods into the major thoroughfares, makign a circuit ouring the breadth of the Navel and ending at the Heavenly Mount.
*making
*touring
Among the perished. many of the sages of Ma'on, slaughtered in their temple, and the leadership of the Ghadim, whose temple was overrun early on.
*perished, many
The Scourge of God has lost a fifth of their original number, the Gunpowder Eucharist a fourth.
Oooooooof. Very, very rough casualties. Martyrs to the cause, but still lost to us all too soon.
The Amalist As Hahayiim, electing as cantor Hadat Bhadan whose leadership of the trance-knight helped save both the Sanhedron and Little Eykshir in the latter stages of the battle, and whose smuggled guns supplied both the sailors and Prince Sen with surreptitious munitions.
*trance-knights
And, of course, the legends of HaKhofshim. Wendam the Wall and Tanda the Terror, who held the Central Navel against the Sufgar Standards. Dvorah the dreamer, who shouted down with such persuasion and articulation to the elders during the Midnight Bull that some thought her among their own number. Bukak the Builder, who not only saved the leaders of the Hendar Uprising, but built many of the fortifications that held the standards on their march through the Navel. Hyanaki Akov, the Starshy of the Scourge, without whose leadership Sarbadgar would not have been able to rally the mass jury. Galavani Chana, the Daughter of Vaspukaran, stormer of Vikrag, stormer of Mushad, who even now has taken to wearing a full headscarf to avoid all the flowers thrown at her from catching in her dark black hair. Elena, a young and spirited rower of the boat that took Muri and Canasstego to the rescue of the ship Sakarog, and Old Strong Belman, the maul of the Muvad Mekdash.
Yes, yes, our legends! How wondrous and noble they are! IIRC it was previously written as "Elana" rather than as "Elena" though.
He who has revealed that without the shackles placed upon him by Sword-Altar and the schmers of the cloister that he is far more of a reformer than any would have thought, that he is a man, perhaps influenced by Bronkar Kenturah who herself in her street-tours has shown her grand compassion, who can safeguard the freedoms of the people.
*schemers
He who has passed Second Obliterative, restricting obliteration to a supermajority vote of the Sanhedron and allowing those obliterated to be tried and not simply executed outright, to end the rumored massacres in the western circles. He who has passed Bull Preceptor, seizing the properties of the exarchs of the northern exarchates and Braki Wharf, and permitting the new Order Calendrical to set maximum hours worked in Nachivan to twelve, cutting worked time by a quarter. He who has passed through the Sanhedron the Bull Restitutive, to compensate the victims and families of the Day of Blood, and the Bull Transmutatis, to create a new Order of the Sacral Treasury, with which to control funds and assure the people of Vaspukaran that their coin and pay will have firm value (and some claim, soon enough to declare free silver, surely!). He who has called the Mekubalic Conclave, and even given recommendations as to topics for discussion, and he who has dissolved the old artisan order structure in favor of a new and fair system by which the apprentice-monk is liberated from the tyranny of the prior-master.

It is he who has affirmed that the Mass Jury of Vaspukaran may operate wherever the local jury has been obliterated or abolished, and that it will be funded from the sacral treasury. It is he who has granted the sailors of the Order Karaban approval to constitute the Alangan Aluv, an all-Alangan council of sailors on the island who elect their captain-abbots and grandmasters in the Juror fashion. And it is he who has affirmed Grandmaster Kook, the captain-abbot of the legendary Sakarog. And it is he who even now speaks down to the crowds so vast, and says to them: It is not I who has done this, but you.
A host of fantastic measures. I especially appreciate that he has mercy to spare even for those who were named his enemies, that if there be innocents among or associated to them that their lives not be lost needlessly.
It is with special excitement that the Patriarch announces the most recent bull passed, for it is the one that is for him the most important. The Bull Resurrective, which by its hand calls forth from the afterlife the Prophetic Fellowship. For when Amalgast was first alive in full body and soul, he was not alone, but had with him: Esther, his loving wife married, Haviva his fierce sister adopted, Boros his good brother bound, Yovan his first warrior vowed, Yataryn his first rider sworn, Urmah his first prince bowed, and Samsun his first priest consecrated. And now, Amalgast the Fourtieth Santsarran calls forth the fellowship again, to safeguard the illuminated Age of Miracles.
What an interesting religious take on instituting a Cabinet for the supreme executive of the state.
And as Esther, he can call forward no on else, but his beloved, his dearest, his sweetest, the Abbess Bronkar Kenturah, to rule beside him, as his second and his most important adviser.
*no one

Also, it's sweet as fuck that he loves his wife as much as he does. Wholesome marriage goals fr.
Kenturah and Santsarran, and Amalgast and Esther, are remarried in an extraordinary ceremony open to the public in the Park of the Pillars. It is austere in decoration but not in celebration: photographers of the newly founded (by Kenturah's advocacy) Order of the Captured Spirit take pictures of the newly re-weds, and they even share in some humor: Kenturah, resting her head smugly against Santsarran's, holds up a prayer bulletin from the 30th of Tislev with the headline 'PATRIARCH DEAD - REPLACED BY DREAD ABBESS KENTURAH?!'.
LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOO

i love them
The Threefold tithe is abolished.
*Tithe
And High Ataman Burs is on the move.
...Hmm. Kinda ominous, tbh.
By entrusting the Order of the Golden Spike and its network of engineers, conductors and railway monks with a total membership in excess of 1.5 million the traditional elites of the country have unwittingly bound themselves in a gilded chain that. A gilded chain that now, in the wake of the coup, Abbot-Superior Vinderbalg of the Golden Spike, pulls hard upon their necks.
Looks like a messed-up copy/paste or something took place here, around where it starts with "a gilded chain that."
But the juries of Vaspukaran, many of them over-leveraged with increasing amounts of debt to service industrial expansion under existential threat, and seeing the reality of the total collapse of the Originator cause in the center of the country, find themselves warming considerably to the contents of the Midnight Bull, and encourage with utmost regret and loaded cannons the acquiescence of the central synods of their circles just as well.
"encourage with utmost regret and loaded cannons" lmfaooooooooooooo
Warabad was founded as a fort on the eastern march of Sufgan's Kingdom, more than a millennia ago.
*millennium
Tanda's Thoughts: Warabad's uprising may have saved Nachivan. If they had not delayed the Sufgar standards at the railway station we may well have been doomed outright by their arrival early. The fact that they fought them for near to two hours is just as impressive.
Yeah, that's dope as fuck.
That Vaani rite is effectively an allowance to use certain vestments, and and a surfeit of tax exemptions, matters little to the pride of its High Priesthood in the synodic axis of Ilah.
Word "and" repeats.
By the 1st of Tebet, the independent of the High Jury of Kedarkan is broken, and the Qehu Synod is dissolved, leaving in its place a Sanhedron dominated by a sect that has marked itself a new player on the landscape of Vaspukaran.
*independence
Led by HaKhofshim and the Ravs of Labour, the mouflons and artisans of the city put the Synod under siege. The synod, begging for aid from Winged-Bull, receives a terrible shock when a closed-door meeting of the Winged-Bull ends with them marshaling - to break down the synod temple's doors with cannon-fire, so as to present themselves on the side of freedom, and not the side of gallows. With the Patriarch alive, and all their wealth put in danger by the railway hermitage, Winged-Bull protects its investment by cutting loose the least useful part of the civic organism, and seizing for a newly declared Sanhedron the vast wealth of its golden vaults.

By the 2nd of Tebet, the wealthy and redoubtable Synod of Ralabarak is dissolved, and in its place a sanhedron where former enemies share power in a way profoundly awkward.

Tanda's Thoughts: Ghami Pola sends us her regards and a rather humble letter saying that 'we appear to be in government'. It's fine work, and something we have laid the groundwork for some time. But Winged-Bull cannot be avoided forever, and I fear we are not prepared to win that confrontation for some time. Still, Yomri is free today, and that is more than we ever could have hoped for a few months before in Kutan. Now we must preserve it.
Hell yes, HaKhofshim putting another one in the win column with an assist from our most noble fellows in the mass section of the Ravs of Labour!
Ischak is one of the most ancient regions of Vaspukaran, a place that is as time, a preserver of the old Folk Rite, with only limited industry in its small and provincial towns of the lowlands linked to Vaspukaran's railway network.
*as old as time
On the plateau, Metamoa seizes total control. Few commitments of arms are needed: the towns of Nevad and Jumrak simply rise up and declare for Vashti, their garrisons deserting, while communions target any pro-originator local priest with expulsion or burning. Vashti herself calls a levy to Tendavara, takes control of the railway station, and then with the assistance of the now legendary Rector Qanam, routs the fleeing Sufgar Standards in a series of running battles that pick apart a poorly organized and defended baggage train. Between Prince Sen catching their rear at Sandan and destroying it, and Vashti's attacks, by the time the Sufgar Standards cross into Sufgar, they have lost near to three-quarters of their force to either desertion or defeat.
Nice to see that Qanam gets to build a legend for himself too.
Qanam's Letter: Vashti is victorious. Praise be to the Lord. I have heard of Yoni, and wept. We will repay him in kind. Now the question comes of what fashion and in what way will we bring about the world to come on the Ischak. The people are elated but mostly wish to till their fields. Vashti wishes for something more ambitious. We are discussing formalizing the communion, itinerant, mobile courts, and something more stable. I fear that despite our contribution, however the Patriarch may choose the Sanhedron over us. We know you heroes in the city - please protect everything we have built. I firmly believe Vashti is her namesake reborn. We MUST be allowed to make clear the coming of the apocalypse.
I really hope the thread does focus on protecting and nurturing Metamoa. If it comes to general civil conflict in the end after all, Metamoa is kind of our potential ace in the hole that could put us on equal footing to the major military elements of other factions.

Also, I ship the two of them.
P.S. I have been inducting Vashti into our doctrine. She is particularly interested in the theory of the creature, the prophet, and the holy ghost. Praise be to the Lord (again) that we have devised such a brilliant position that it sways another prophet to our side.
Lmfaooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Raditakan is one of the founding circles of Vaspukaran and has its roots within the Kazach princedom first conquered by Sufgan's kingdom more than a millenium ago.
*millennium
Turning north and west, he defeats the unprepared Kazach Jury in a three battles, refuses to accept surrender.
*in three battles
Enraged that Prince Sen has been legitimated, Prince Narem, known for his temper, repays the Patriarch's open hand by living off the land rather than relying on supply lines and refuses at first to yield Kedakiah back to the 'mound of gray hair and wasted words' that is the Raditakan Synod.
"Living off the land" meaning "pillaging like a bandit," once you de-euphemize it.
Dvorah's Thoughts: I do not like this Prince Narem one bit.
A. Fucking. Men. He may be a nominal ally of the Patriarch for now, but such a debased soul shall surely show himself to be an enemy of the revolution in the end.
Proud and unbendingly deliberative, in the centuries after the flood the survivors formed island and swamp-communities and towns built upon a system of raised terrace agriculture and the farming eels, ruled by deliberative assemblies in the villages and city-states.
*the farming of eels
It starts in Eykshir. News reaches Nesra early in the day of events in Nachivan, and a group of Kedesh sectarians seize control of a dock-house and declare it the Sanhedron. Ataman Hutul of the Lhazaran Banner orders Jurors not to fire on them, contradicting the order of the Eykshir Synod. Risings spread to other parts of Nesra: by the 3rd of Tebet, many of the Metropolitans have been dissolved and replaced by communions. An alliance of artisan low priests and jurors, spearheaded by the sect of Kedesh charge for Sanhedral supremacy everywhere, founding new communions and replacing the old high priest dominated Metropolitans. Ataman Hutul lets them go even farther, as the Sanhedron dispossesses the Synod of Nesra not only of its position but its wealth: Vast portions of the huge gold vaults and relics of the circle are ordered to be seized and melted down to be re-issued as gold-backed currency to the veterans of the war.

By the 14th of Tebet, the Synod of Nesra dissolves with hardly a shot fired, and the Sanhedron of Nesra elects not a Nasi but an Isshi, in honor of their ancient chiefs with crowns of thorns and crowns of gold.
Damn, Nesra is kinda baller huh.
Akov's Thoughts: There are times that try our souls, and there are times that free us. This is one of those times. Nesra is free again, and an Isshi rises in our midst. It is...

I may have to return home, soon. It has been too long. It may be better, now. I will not be long, I promise you all, but - it is something I must do. There will be much to be done, but that this was done peacefully - truly, Nesra is my beloved!
I'm happy to see Akov so happy.
The Nullifier Juries, claiming ancient rites that allow juries to nullify the authority of their superiors when they 'turn completely against the word and acts of God', secede entirely from the High Jury of Dvarim's area of authority, 'extinguishing the immolators now and forever'.
The Doctrine of Extinguishment! Hell fucking yeah!
The Kulman and Tachan Palatines, some of the largest self-governing Juror territories in the country, simply declare themselves Free Palatines and vow loyalty to the Grand Sanhedron, and subordinate themselves to it directly Lhazaran Banner, representing nearly all of Nesra's own juries, subordinates itself to the Nesra Sanhedron, and declares it shall defend its freedom to the death.
Needs a period after "directly."
Incredulous , High Ataman Gorgamam asks for clarification from Akabar Morsi, hoping another Juror would be sympathetic.
Extraneous space before the first comma.
Akabar Morsi, in his letter back, 'leaked' to the press likely by Morsi himself, describes Gorgamam as a 'dog who licks at the teat of golden calves', who would 'rather sit upon a bed of straw and lies', than 'welcome himself to the place of heaven'. He calls Gorgamam 'a third-rate Reganan', who shall 'soon join him in the rubble of his barrack, should he not be wise to the order of God's own'. He advises that the High Ataman 'resign, or else be resigned', for his sacrilege of breaching Orlachag, and concludes that 'there is no alliance between Jurors who are for God and those against him'.
A very dope takedown of a confirmed motherfucker. But also shows a potentially dangerous skill for playing to the press from an uncertain ally for true liberation.

Also, "resign, or else be resigned"? Neoliberal Mazrim Taim confirmed.
Incorporated near to 100 years ago as adventurers and Jurors from Zarnai pushed deeper into the mountainous highlands and conquered the rich mountain savanna from the local princes, Tepe has never quite fit within the Tranquil Rite. With few serfs, its free mouflon villages responding to attempts at enserfments with stern gunpowder petitions delivered at high speeds, and a proud frontier chamber of Jurors far away from the railway lines
...Oh my god, it's Vaspukaran West Virginia, just without the coal mining.
In its most traditional and deeply ingrained form, Amalism has seeped into the bones of the culture of the Hospodari peoples who comprise a vast swathe dominating the hills and highlands of the central north of Vaspukaran, and having among them one its great cities, the northern metropolis of Uraran.
*one of its great cities
The Jury has not been the driver of industrialism, instead leaving that to the High Priesthood which also monopolizes major positions by virtue of adherence to the Hosposardi Rite, and uses its position to aggregate significant wealth and connections to the priestly elite of other regions of Vaspukaran.
*Hospodari Rite
Sin-eater gangs of Amalist fanatics, threatening that 'those indulgent sinners shall be roasted by the righteous' brave the cold of the northern winter to terrify and intimidate local priestly dignataries as the synodic censorship regime collapses and printed pamphlets move in radical dirctions.
*dignitaries
*directions
An attempted rising in Vadashta when rumors come that the Patriarch is dead, erecting an Antipatriarch, is crushed when the Iconoclast coalition, moving too fast and too early, receive the truth Patriarch is still alive and fall apart, many fleeing northeast to Nesra and some even further, to the capital or the Kazar circles.
*the truth the Patriach is still alive
The southern sanhedrons, convened at the behest and pleasure of the synods, are said to be composed of 'cloyers and crabbers', with suffrage is denied to the oblate serfs even as their numbers inflate the south's representation in the Fourth Grand Sanhedron.
*while suffrage is denied

Slavers continue to be real motherfuckers, in this as in every world.
It is clear, that as the illumination continues, the divisions between these schools will become more obvious, and it may be that some of the schisms will collapse. Clearly our old methods to destroy the vast den of idols which is the south is not quite working, to put it lightly. And if I may be frank, if I am forced to choose between Pugilists and some of my so-called schismatic brothers and sisters, I will choose you.

And not just because this is a delicious soup. Though it is delicious.
I see Esterkezy content, and I am happy. I wish for more and more, please and thank you.
Sarbadgar's Thoughts at rest-day dinner [Available because you chose Mushad Bridge]: The Perusian Rite is the last vestige of a different and less enlightened age which preserves itself only through violence. It is because of the violence in the hearts of men that it continues, and it will only be ended with violence. At this stage it would be unwise for any to take up arms against Gushanaram and Hamayan. Burs is crafty, and was a dangerous officer on the frontier, and there is enough support for the system now that to act would be to be embroiled in a long civil war. We must sow the seeds of disunion in them by dividing them internally and inspiring, perhaps, some measure of internal ruckus, but never, never ever, yield an inch. Only by this shall we exact a final judgment on their blackened souls. Amen.
Not a dissimilar situation to the problem of oblate serfdom, really.
And it is followed by worse news: That High Ataman Buman Burs and his Steedeater have entered the city of Harasdad, the Originator capital.

And not, it is rumored, to conquer.
Well, fuck. I saw it coming, but I'm still unhappy about it. Why can't motherfuckers just let us have nice things? In this thesis, The Fundamental Contradictions of Motherfuckerdom, I shall argue by exegesis that
Me: put off starting reading the quest for weeks because it looks kinda dense tbh
Also me: literally stay up late to finish an update once I do finally start reading, kicking myself for not starting sooner
 
All that was good, all that was fair, is gone.
Oh, get entirely fucked.
All of this could have been avoided. The Patriarch was well-secured, cloistered within the web of ritual arranged by the Order of Silence and the faithful within the Mothguard. That hussy of an abbess forcing him to forget his duty who had been was a problem, but one that could have been taken care of. The schismatic imps summoned from just exile could have been culled as easily as the diseased beasts of a herd, if only the Sanhedron had been tamed and made to work as they had tamed the second and the first. And indeed it had been working! But then the Ischak geriatrics had become excited, and Beselsevi saw a chance to birth his dream, and then the Gilded-Eagle had been plucked by a pack of half-pagan idolaters and their appointed blaspheming witch-princess, and it was the nightmare of the third sanhedron again...
When they had been yeshiva boys, Dabami rightly treated him with envy, but he could not bear to follow his father's advice and poison him sick before examination - he was of such esteemed lineage, and of such diction, that he could not bear it.

He used what he has prepared on that upjumped rector in his class instead.
Is there anything more nauseating than the thoughts of a wicked man who believes himself good?

Also, *had prepared
Clearing his throat, Burs, speaks up.
*Burs speaks up
"Unctious cur, rank spoon. Let the wicked in God's Kingdom be gripped with the hand of justice, and their bones be crushed in the claw of oblivion."
*Unctuous
At last, Burs releases Beselsevi, who falls to the ground, clutching at his shoulder, tears forming in his eyes. Dabami whispers a prayer, but it is unheard, for naught a moment later, to escalating cries of 'shame' and outrage, Burs approaches the forbidden throne of the Guardians, sweeps away the dust, and...takes a seat, groaning as he does, as if it is a mouflon's hammock.
Yeah, he's clearly been waiting for this for a long, long time.
"But," Burs admits easily, leaning back into the seat of the holy guardians as if was of their blood, "It shall not be my choice. It is up to them."
*as if he was
Burs stands, walks forward to Archdeacon, still upon his knees, mouthing 'please', gripping desperately Burs' pants and trying to sloppily kiss his boots, and draws a revolver hidden in his jacket, aiming down.
*Archdeacon Beselsevi
Remaining resistance collapses. Prince Narem, marching north and enraged that again his bounty has been stolen from, loots lower Sufgar for days to extract some value from the country, before Burs sends envoys to him advising that 'the little saber-cub should rush home to be with his good old tata, if he does not wish for I to send him there myself'. Prince Narem, normally hardly one to yield, agreed without reservation, and begins to withdraw.
Prince Narem continues to be an absolute shitlord. Brothers and sisters, I see an enemy of illumination in waiting.
God's Own revels in the turnabout, depicting the Patriarch as a beastmaster holding the leashes of a lion labeled Sen, a skeletal horse labeled Sarbadgar, a hunting dog labeled 'Morsi', a stallion named 'Noyan Kobatai', and a demonic bear labeled 'Burs' snappoing its jaws, all straining against his leash to pounce on a terrified group of huddling priests.
*snapping
A firm supporter and notable orator for it is Massima Rachel, who speaking on her experience on the 30th of Tislev, says to acclaim that 'we who are God's children, have no right to seize the lives of our brothers and sisters without alignment with God's laws, and in a moral world, perhaps not even then!'
...Did Massima Rachel just become the first person to suggest potentially outlawing the death penalty? Unbelievably based. A titanic pogchamp of illumination.
Third is the 'great men' that the Patriarch has surrounded himself
*himself with
In mid-Tislev, it was the sects under purge by Sword-Altar. On the 30th, it was Sword-Altar itself. On the 25th, it is the Originator Synods.
This switches month without mentioning it, so I'd advise *On the 25th of Tebet,
The First of the Mushad Oathtakers, former exile to the Mare, Arch-feminist, and radical among radicals, Makabam's fiery dame of freedom Esterkezy Oshana
An absolute queen. We stan.
I will allow this as long as we understand that the historians involved do not understand Qanam is like twice Vashti's age
Wait say what? I retroactively rescind all thoughts of shipping them. Qanam now has whole Uncle Revolution vibes with her instead.
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more.
This was really, really good.
Galavani Chana, Young Yomri orphan and adoptee of the sect, militant defender of women's rites and de facto leader of the Convent of the Gunpowder Eucharist. Stormer of Vikrag and Mushad, the Red Maiden.
I've been wanting a baller title for Chana and here it fucking is! The Red Maiden, good fucking lord. So hype.
Esterkezy Oshana, force of nature and former exile to the Mare, returned in time to participate in the Battle of the 30th of Tislev. Accomplished marksman, spinster, and writer of radical works on women's theology and advocate for the deluge.
I've said it before and I shall surely say it again: a whole queen. We stan.
Exarch Tata Targon, also called the Glutton for the Good and the Padisash of Poverty, is ruler of the east bank by virtue of his gumption and extensive criminal connections.
*Padishah
Garrisoning the four missions and the major frontiers of Vaspukaran, the angelic banners are significant standing armies have their own internal culture, traditions and society, and do not take kindly to orders even from the High Atamans.
*that have
Claiming lineage to the copper merchant Rip Tang Goo who was struck by lightning and saw it as a challenge from God, Usral is ruled by a line of Stormcrowns boasting direct lineage to Goo, even if the geneology has sometimes been exceedingly suspect.
*genealogy
Rab himself is mostly content to stay with his concubines and partly wildly as he gains corpulence and loses senses.
*party wildly
Ataman Hutul of Lhazaran has sworn the entirety of Lhazaran Banner to nullifcation and declared his loyalty is to the Sanhedron of Nesra first and foremost.
*nullification
Utterly and completely destroyed save for a few small remnants in Sufgar in the month after the 30th of Tislev, the Originators inadverdantly have massively accelerated the pace of change in Vaspukaran in their attempt to forestall it.
*inadvertently
Also lmao at these scrubs, get fucked losers.
Killed in spirit by High Ataman Burs after the massacre of Mushad Palace in Harasdad
Needs a period at the end.
Living Moasic monks and nuns would deliberately introduce new versions of alphabets for local languages and ensure that translations and transmission of oral works into writing for those cultures would be on their terms, so that many cultures now are unsure which are of their legends are 'authentically' pre-Patriarchal, and which were edited and adapted to fit into the new mold.
*Mosaic
Oh Vashti Bride of Boros and of Ischak, last daughter of Pugranasi, Reverent Messenger of God, and Scythe of the Apocalypse may the blood of Behemoths flow red beneath the harvest moon.
Wow. Let none scorn the Scythe of the Apocalypse. Or her fancy hair.
She had another Boros in her life of flesh and blood, and she loved the way that he would run his fingers through her hair. When Pugranasi was destroyed, the two of them held each other close and vowed never to be separated, but the demands of survival broke their vow and sent him to the mills of Arhan and her to a rancher's work. He died when the fragment of a bullet fired at strikers ricoheted and hit him in the skull, but he had only been there to watch.
Let those who would carelessly and callously rob the loves of others away from them take heed, and consider carefully what may grow in the space left in the hearts of those who survive their love's loss. If these cruel ones will not heed the voice of God that bids mercy, perhaps they may heed that they are indeed the harbinger of their own destruction.
Sometimes she wakes up and forgets he is not sleeping by her side. Sometimes she wishes she did not wake up at all.
Oh, Vashti. 😭
So when a disobedient girl refused to marry, her mother, ever protective of true family, resorted to the courts, and the courts to humiliation for the spinster child so rebellious as if to spit in the eye of God.

It was not the high and mighty of Henoch who saved Oshana from a wretch's tar and feather, but the women in the crowd.
...yeah, that'll leave a fucking mark.
Submitted for the consideration of all members of the HaKhofshim.
This was really, really good.
DVORAH: Merodak, this is by far your best work. This will be discussed at the next general prayer service of HaKhofshim alongside other directions of doctrine, you may be sure of it. It is time for us, as a sect, to develop the tools necessary to transform ourselves into the leaders of Illumination in God's Kingdom, and this is one of the most cogent and most excellent expressions of the thought that we will need to arrive there.
See? Dvorah-senpai noticed you!
Sect parades bring out disciples in their holiday best, while massive barbeques of scorpion, hefer, moa waft aromas that demand devotion.
*heifer
An Ashareian organ grinder draws significant attention thanks to his performing velociraptor, who 'is a most intelligent creature trained in all the proper positions of Vasparak prayer'. The spectacle elicits much excitement, but then the velociraptor spots a mouse and runs off into an alleyway, claw extended, the organ grinder screaming after it.
Clever girl. But disobedient, it seems.
Oshana, at a lecture held at the Temple of the Free, offers her interpretation of his ends. The Patriarch may be a creature of his chamber, but he has an independent and unique authority as the prophet that transcends ordinary theopolitics. What Santsarran has done is accept himself fully as a Patriarch, independent of and disconnected from the priesthood. To do so is to shatter the old conventions, and break the intentions of Rav Yatoni, but is necessary if the institution is to survive the tumult elevated and powerful. The Patriarch will seek centralization, simplification, and the end of the old order: for the sects, that is beneficial, as it will make more horizontal the relationships between the people and God, and break the four chamber system which favours division and complication. Now what is essential is to further pressure and cajole the Patriarch, and ensure that his interests still lay towards the Deluvian redemption!
*Diluvian

Also, I continue to love her.
The Grand Sanhedron's judicial committee, composed mostly of High Priests
Well, that seems like it could be trouble down the road.
His jawline is a saber's edge, his arms lean munitions, his chest an implacable fortification, his thighs two falconets, a cypress tree and model of the aristocracy (Sarbadgar pauses at this point to slice a slab of lamb chop, as Dvorah coughs, Chana loosens her collar, and Akov drinks a cup of water).
a), LMFAOOOOOOO
b), ...Akov? I wouldn't have guessed but I can see it tbh.
And white-gold are fanatics whose history has been obscured by their pomp and circumstances.
*White-Gold
He has committed the Jury of Kedarkan to electoral reforrms and initiate elections in every single jury in its jurisdiction, throwing all competing juries into disarray.
*reforms
*initiated
He has issued the first series of gold shekel notes off the massive quantitatives of gold taken from the obliterated Originators.
I think this should just be *quantities
Dogar, the last palatine outside of his grasp, was put to rest with nothing more than Morsi's assent and the Patriarch's retroactive approval, as Burs' steedeater invaded and deposed the ataman.
*Steedeater
Dvorah asks whether this strategy may as well be turned on them, and Sarbadgar grants her an unnerving smile, and remarks: perhaps it already has.
...Yeah. Morsi is a dangerous man, and it would behoove us not to forget it.
In the south, the prince-priests have totally co-opted the first communal elections of Vadashta, and by an alliance of wealthy low priests, high priests and jurors have begun hunting escaped serfs in the city despite its status as a free territory even as they present themselves as the feeders of Nachivan. An attempted oblate revolt in Hasor, claiming the principles of the Midnight Bull as its own, has been put down, and the conspirators, a group of iconoclasts and allied serfs, have all been hanged or impaled.
Motherfuckers continue to motherfuck.
And in the mountainous circles of Hashech and Yichud the Tukhari Pugilists, who preach free love, free land, and free custom, have emerged from hiding and repression as a heresy repressed by the traditional minyan communions.
Huh, interesting.
Prince Sen is the hero of many, but he is a blood aristocrat at the head of a gang he calls his black army.
*Black Army.
Children's education, and the ideal of universal, is a potentially epochal issue that would liberate from ignorance millions and is deeply popular among the learned classes.
*universal education
Storming of Vikrag [Tradition]. The victory of the gunpowder eucharist over Sword-Altar shall carry forward to eternity.
*Gunpowder Eucharist
Kendanaya Dvorah [+Doctrine, Influence].
*+Influence
Added two clarifying line about something:
The second clarifying line doesn't actually appear in the update, still.
DVORAH: Disciple Gidon we really must have a talk at this point at what purpose you see free silver serving for the furtherance of the world to come. As a monetary proposal for the stabilization of the currency it surely has merit but I simply cannot understand yours and Elder's Hadi's obsession with it as a messianic symbol. In the past six months I have heard free silver be proposed as an antidote to war, pestilence, famine, the inequality of mankind, infertility, baldness, mortal suffering, the division of the nations into separate parts, and now gender trouble!

It is a metal and a type of specie. It has no special energy beyond what is vested in all portions of creation.

WENDAM: It seems exceedingly clear to me. It is the feminine energy, tossing and turning, yearning for its lost lover of gold. Fine work, disciple.

DVORAH: Don't encourage this!

WENDAM: Come now, Dvorah. Have we not been freed from bondage to be together? Am I not your golden bull, and you my silver sweetheart? Do we not yearn for one another? Do we not yearn for free silver?

DVORAH: Th-this is highly inappropriate discussion for a lecture meeting!
LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
My impass was only resolved by the connection afforded to me by recommendation of that eternally great hero Sarbadgar to Baba Habila's own shipping service, which normally ships tea, silk, and cassava.
*impasse
Most of these men can be spotted by non-Nesri easily by the impressive breadth of their ta moko tattoos by which they mark their status, and many are juror starshy or komandirs, as the high priesthood discarded and disguised their own tatoos to better present themselves as orthodox sages.
*their own tattoos
The iconoclasts and pugilists, who have their own temples, are far less well off.
*Iconoclasts and Pugilists
Overall, there is work to be done, especially in terms of introducing weight classifications in wrestling duels.
Ooooof, I can just imagine hahahaha. Our poor skinny boy.
My relief soon left me, however as I was reminded of tedium's old embrace.
*left me, however, as I was
My cousins tell me I should fix her up with the usage of a firm thumb-stick, and instead I got into a fight with them instead, and left them with black eye as Chana said I should when men suggest such things.
Chana gives good advice in these matters.
In Nachivan I am God's own servant, but in Nesra I am a cuckold and a failure of a man, and my wife will not see me, and my children will not know me. Is there a place to remedy this in the world to come? Is there a kind of possibility that we may reach, so that although not all may be made right, we may at last be free from one another?

There is nothing left for me here. I will make to return soon.

With hallowed love,

Hyanaki Akov
Damn. Poor guy.
All of us dispatched to Tunturus had no interesting stories, only snow and local chutzapadiks trying to steal the women of the penitentiary and take them home as wives. Oh, but I wouldn't have minded, really - have you seen how the speckles below their eyes, and that fiery hair!
*seen the speckles

Also, I love her.
CHANA: I can.!She speaks of me as if I am as a child. A humiliation read publicly before the inner sect to see and snicker that the Stormer of the Vikrag had crushes and had toothaches. I am above such things now.
*I can! She
DVORAH: You are not even twenty, do not speak as if you are the angel of death. When you are Vashti's age we may discuss it again.
Ice. Cold.🤣
TANDA: I don't think you did a day of housework in your life before you married Wendam. Or a day of work, for that matter. In fact, even now, half the time it appears he is the one doing the cleaning -

DVORAH: Ahem. Thank you. In any case, regardless of any such deficiencies, we shall have a sufeit of letters from which to build our case. But what is the strongest case for us to build?
I've said it before, and I'll surely say it again: Baba Tanda has no chill.

Also, *surfeit
An assassination attempt by the vile and accursed opportunists of the Sanhedron in the course of negotiations has been dealt with.
...Huh. This is probably a necessary reminder that abolishing Synods and replacing them with Sanhedrons is not the automatic vanquishment of evil, as evil may persist in new form.
Tatala is an apostate and according to traditional law should be stoned but I have known since we were young when she would tease me beneath an ironwood tree, and she is indispensable to our cause, and so I dispense with such laws.
*known her
Letter of Maryan Vashti, Undated from Tendavara, Ischak
...Very, very interesting stuff here.
But establishing a social market model for Vaspukaran where the workers, owners, and consumers are all represented stakeholders seems like a logical extension of theocratic principles, so that every industrial concern labors for the good of the nation and sanctifies the efforts of laborers for the glory of God.
Interesting. We could probably draw an analogy to the chambers of the Sanhedron here - maybe make demands for a Toiler's Chamber in enterprise leadership as part of our unionization efforts?
Clippings from the news arrive brought no longer just by Dvorah but by many curious disciples of the sect as well as allies.
*arrive, brought
Sarbadgar: "When I was a boy, I had daydreams and fantasies of Yuhwa, that I might have been able to ride and to save her if only I was there as she was being hounded to her death. Such beliefs in chivalry and mismatched usurption of martyrdom were dispensed when I became a man and learned that Yuhwa was perhaps the only of the people whose suffering had a divine and deeper meaning. As I aged I was disciplined to put aside such childish things, and to hate her as I hated heathens, for Yuhwa was the reason why we Gushans were so despised, even if we embraced Amalgast and his holy faith. I let myself be consumed by an illusion that I thought cold reality: that the possibility of goodness was nothing but a fantasy of childhood. Now, today, I know myself a boy once again, for I have found the ability to dream of a future where Yuhwa need not have had to die for us, but live, as we should live today, in freedom. I do not believe myself a Mahdi, nor a hero, nor a cause of grand salvation. I am but a man, and yet a man who is entrusted with the hopes of ten thousand years. I will make it so these hopes are not misplaced. "
...Man, not to reopen an incredibly contentiously litigated vote, but this does make me pretty wistful for what might have been had Incarnation won. Would certainly have affected our relationship with Sarbadgar in an interesting way, one way or another. And would have synergized with pushing for the liberation of witches, and with our hopes to undermine and destroy Perusian Rite... ah well. I guess she could be a Rav.
Ghadan Nasir: "He is not, and this is the sad fallacy of High Confession. The presumption that the great man, the pious authority, may by the presumption of its own moral absolution and rectitude surpass the material boundaries set by creation, and in so doing bring about the eschaton, is a delusion. Witness the reforms so named. Although they improve the lot of all, and redistribute time, and improve the state of Sufgar, they also exist to enrich and glorify the Guardian and his minions, to inspire just such a reaction as he has received from our papers. The mass is bought to back the hero, and all sense of self-government and self-control of time is abandoned to the mercy of the watchmaker. But without the support of, and the consent of, the toiling classes, such a program is not a program of Truth but a program of self-deluding falsehood, in service to the lie of power."
Based. Also, yeah, I continue to not trust Burs in the slightest, or his efforts to mantle the banner of High Confession. It smacks to me of a man who has tasted the title and power of Guardian, and found it good, and may yet find himself thinking that the title of Infallible Patriarch would surely taste sweeter still.
And Vashti does not hide, Vashti does not cower. She forms of her realm an anointed Metamoa Tahor in the manner of the ancient ravs who formed armies of the anointed. For holy is the Patriarch, yes, but more holy is the Patriarch who knows his people support him against evil! She will be his bulwark against the darkness of Perusian Rite, and the suspicious beast, that Buman Burs. She will spread the word of Ghadi, and her own new and novel word, as it is written by Myriam: "let my children surpass me in all things, so I am chided by my own descendents". And so let Vashti surpass Guru Ghadi and Opernani Myriam, and let Pugilism rise again, in Nachivan with the brash and iron-headed HaKhofshi and fair and just Ma'on!

Any who dispute these words or deny Vashti's will may challenge this Epistolian at 33 Neked Street behind Unki Butchers. Unarmed, Break-Hard style, no weight restrictions. Please send a letter ahead so I know to be prepared in form and function.
Lmfao that between us and the street toughs, we're the "brash and iron-headed" ones in peoples' minds. Also happy to see Vashti getting acclaimed by our people.

Oh, and *HaKhofshim
Oshana: "In words made simple (Iconoclasm has not yet discovered how to abolish the idol of verbosity): each of these factions remain too tied to a binding institution. This drives them to seek the glory of that idol and not human liberation. The Covenantal Congress, even as it speaks in a language of freedom and renewed covenant, is a parochial and vernacular movement to protect the position of the local priestly elite, who represent the wealthiest and least representative of the distributive kongsi cantons, premised on the basis of sharing the fruits of labour with the labourers. The High Jury deserves little elaboration on its self-serving interests. And the Nullifier Juries make their claim to opposition on the basis of tradition and privilege of their membership. As it stands, such Jurors are likely to fully diverge from the project of the deluge as soon as it puts those privileges under threat - say, with the expansion of the Mass Jury. My skepticism for extinguishment notwithstanding, HaKhofshi must be prepared for such a threat."
I love her and I will never stop saying it.

Also, *HaKhofshim
Illuminated Nachivan is a city where the careening speed of events never ceases to amaze those coming from the slowmoving and everlasting little villages from which are forced.
*from which they are forced.
HaKhofshi candidates are being fielded in the Western Navel, though admittedly they are mostly self-declared to be aligned with the sect, mostly running as Juror reverands for the Scourge of God or mouflons for the Ravs of Labour.
*HaKhofshim
*reverends
Oshana, during a dinner with the sect, pins up the clipping, with a note saying 'intriguing'. She has about two dozen more such clippings her jacket (?), and remains an enigmatic woman.
*in her jacket
Abbot Werikam's Insight - Behold the tiny agents of pure evil! A popular review of a recent lecture given by the Abbot Werikam by the Order of the Humours, the major non-nursing medical artisan order. Werikam, courting controversy and even censorship, has suggested that the cause of disease is not miasma or an imbalance of virtues and bloods, but instead that tiny scuttling creatures infiltrate the human body, exhaust it, and spread disease. Werikam assures audiences that these creatures are not agents of a foreign power but instead have no allegiance but demonic suffering. Against this he recommends sanitation and cleanliness, which so many already practice, but also the boiling of milk and other transmitting fluids which foster the little beasts. This shall surely protect the health of the people! Beneath it, a note from Sarbadgar: 'Curious. May also spread especially in wounds?'
Holy shit, did this absolute chad of medicine seriously just invent germ theory? And props to Sarbadgar for literally immediately spotting the relevance to field hospitals.
I think some kind of exchange program with the Collegium could probably be beneficial to help the peace process along, but the Mare is basically not an option
Tell that to Oshana. :V
BROTHERS AND SISTERS, I AM AT LAST AMONG YOU!
 
H e c k Y e ah, and since we focus on building our base in clearing out the old older of Central Vaspukaran we're gonna be interacting with Metamoa Minyans a lot, praise be! Also, does this indicate San confirming Vashti's claim to Ravhood?

No, it's just an analogy drawn by the writer. That would surely be referenced and she would be titled Rav, but that has not happened. Vashti seems to be keeping it quiet for now and laying groundwork.

@Fayhem Welcome to the present! I really appreciated your readthrough and I'll try my best to get the typos, lol.
 
mm i have also now caught up on this glorious and untroubled march of progress! extremely good shit

and now that i have recovered from the blasphemy of a new model army being written up by a cavalier and also the puns

I hate Discount Dessalines Burs so much??? An ex-radical larping as a reformer while creating a junta with extra steps, and a guy who besides watching Batman movies for inspo also read/watched GoT and went "sure, Walder Frey is cool, but you know who's really cool? Ramsay fucking Bolton."

Like it's a good hate, he is a slick villain and the zoom in on him betraying the Originators was a great read. I just want to demolish everything about him and his project and then write demeaning fiction about it.
 
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Burs' entire play with the Originators was to set himself as the Patriarch and the Sanhedron's Butcher. The Northern Warlord that those in the core find kind of barbaric, but he's so willing to get his hands bloody in their shared interests that he's too useful to get rid of.

And like yeah sure, he's dangerous. But they've got so many other enemies that it doesnt seems worth it to fight him over him messily murdering all their shared enemies. This is of course, the exact point moment where he thunders down from the North and sweeps everything away with his veteran armies following the examples of the likes of Caesar, Dong Zhuo, and An Lushan.
 
my hatred of him is not a Strategy Take per se, but I do think that the ongoing threat of an "Enlightened" Despot emerging is my personal bugbear here even more than other strong contenders like serfdom or all of you sleeping on amalism
 
you hate ataman burs because he is a warlord waiting to unleash his brutal veteran armies when he estimates we can no longer resist

you hate ataman burs because his best case scenario is an enlightened despot which is inherently repulsive

i hate ataman burs because

we are united in a groko( grand coalition) against burs
 
mm i have also now caught up on this glorious and untroubled march of progress! extremely good shit

and now that i have recovered from the blasphemy of a new model army being written up by a cavalier and also the puns

I hate Discount Dessalines Burs so much??? An ex-radical larping as a reformer while creating a junta with extra steps, and a guy who besides watching Batman movies for inspo also read/watched GoT and went "sure, Walder Frey is cool, but you know who's really cool? Ramsay fucking Bolton."

Like it's a good hate, he is a slick villain and the zoom in on him betraying the Originators was a great read. I just want to demolish everything about him and his project and then write demeaning fiction about it.

Glad to hear it, and welcome to the front of the thread!

Update in a few days. I have been working on a complete world map which will be very important so I wanted to get that squared off.
 
Turn 5, 822 Shavat: Study of the Spire's Fragments
Turn 5, 822 Shavat: Study of the Spire's Fragments
In 805 AA the popular and wealthy yeshiva prelate Frodi Vadati published the first edition of his study of the Spire's Fragments, an encylopedia of the world for the curious student, the most rigorous of its kind in notoriously incurious Vaspukaran. Most prior such studies had focused on proving wrong the various religions of the world, or reveling in Vaspukaran's superiority, or else engaging in flights of fancy about foreign countries with lurid and ridiculous descriptions of 'soft-footed, big-handed crab-men of the far east'.

Utilizing a horde of assistants and contacts with legations in Nachivan, Vadati was the most notable to engage in a systematic evaluation of the world's polities. Achieving immense circulation in the last years of Patriarch Maravan's tenure, Vadati's first edition's influence came to a sudden end with the ascension of Patriarch Petrifor, who banned the volume across Vaspukaran as 'undermining morals'. Now, with the censorship of the past ended, and Vaspukaran opening again to the world under the most radical Patriarch and movement since the time of high confession, the Study has been republished. Although Vadati has passed, his friend the Pontiff-Prelate Samangan has elected to create a new and updated copy. Though this time, with a massive disclaimer that this work and his commentaries does not reflect his views as Nasi.

The document is thus simultaneously a republication of an essential work and a reflection of a new and illuminated age. Of particular popularity is its map, the most comprehensive rendition of spiral political boundaries available in Vaspukaran.

Warning: The section you are about to read has more than twice the recommended daily dose of worldbuilding. Consult with your local fantasy writer if this post is right for you.


FRAGMENTS OF THE FALLEN SPIRE: A STUDY OF OUR SPHERE by Frodi Vadati

A MAP OF THE FRAGMENTS OF THE SPIRE AS OF 822 AA

A zoomed-in version may be found here.

Geographies of the Shattered Spire

God having broken up the world has also broken up its lands. There are innumerable and wondrous places, islands and archipelagos, great masses and tiny specks fringing glittering seas. But it may be said that for the safety of the student's memory that there are five continents divided by five oceans, and in between these oceans and in the gulfs and gaps seas have formed as well.

The greatest continent is redoutable Camad, which comprises the west and center of the world (the center placed on the axis of God's Kingdom). It encompasses all aspects of the climate, from the cold and frigid northern wasteland to the hothouse of the equator islands. It is from here that humanity first came and spread to all the world. So vast is Camad that the majority of what is worth remarking on may be found within its bounds, and so great is it that the eyes of the earth watch the world from perches here. It is sometimes said the far western archipelagos form their own continent as well, so unique are the countries on this littoral. But they have been so influenced by the mainland, and their islands such an extension of it, that to say so is absurd.

Samangan's Notes: It is this fact of a great continent which is so essential for our country. God's Kingdom is part of a continuum, the greatest shard of the ancient spire. Should it have been isolated it would not have formed at all. Every country on Camad shares things with the others, and the innumerable little nations of this place have been shaped by our connection. It also means, to our detriment, we must sometimes share this place with those we'd rather send very far away.

The next continents are Firanhj and Landalusaj, the far east. Here mankind discovered new lands that had not been settled, by rowing kayaks and catamarans west from Camad's pelagic fringe. It is thought the first peoples came to here in a time before time, and then afterwards came the Arcteryxin explorers spreading Yuhwa, and then in latter days the ocean routes found by Patranesia and the Mare. The peoples here are of a unique make and are especially suited, in Firanhj, to the cold. Such coldness tends to make them emotional and ferocious, with hotter blood to compensate, at the expense of rationality. Landalusaj is more familiar for those of us used to the warmth of great empires, and it is thus no surprise that it hosts many rising empires, whilst Firanhj's are on decline.

Samangan's Notes: Vadati I am afraid still had to make concessions to the old style, obsessed as ever with the proof that one people are better than another by some irrational and unprovable explanation. As we cold-blooded rational beings, we should know that failures point much more to deficiencies of institution and religious practice.

To the south is the continent of Aurura, the golden verge, where man and marsupial make friendship [A visible ? is put next to this in the annoted version], an isolated place influenced in part by the eastern reaches of Camad. This continent ranges from warm to very cold, dominated by chilled desert and the steppe that its people call the 'outback'. Many in Camad refer to Aurura as the 'third shard', with Camad the first, and the eastern continents the second. It defies easy understanding by those of us outside, impenetrable to our faiths.

Finally there is the accursed continent, Antipodea. When the time comes for the spire to be completed God will destroy this place and melt its ice into the sea. Amen.

Samangan's Notes: Vadati, a southron scholar to the last, never did much like the cold.

The geography of the shattered spire so dispensed with, we may now turn to the covenants of each people with the God they may call Gods.
The Four Styles of Covenant

Every faith has its flawed and confused interpretations of the divine message and mission, obscured by their refusal to accept the prophet Amalgast. The ways in which this message is translated may be thought of as its covenant, the bundle of laws, rites, scripture, worship, and custom which defines it. There may be said to be four styles, and no more than this, that encompasses all governments of the world. Each style is not exclusive, and most are not purely of one style - the best polities make use of most in moderation. What follows is a description of a 'pure form', which is not advisable as an exemplar for holy governance.

Sacral Kingdoms are centered on the glory and exaltation of a high priest or god-king. They may be elective, as is Vaspukaran, or hereditary, as is Osogdo. Strong offices form around the monarch, who is especially exalted and holy, and may in fact be an aspect of God or a false prophet. A woman may be king as well, to be clear, with this classification covering all instances of this style man or woman. The kingdom bends to the King's whims, and they are pre-eminent.

Samangan's Notes: "A wonderful time when the sacral king is truly holy, and a problem when the sacral king's sacral jaw juts as hard as his thick head. Elective kingship avoids this, but provides considerable power to elites who may seek the weak over the strong, such as our own Petrifor."

Judicates worship the application and maintenance of a divine religious law. The development of ever-more detailed scripture and commentaries has produced a clade of priests to interpret them, and in a judicate, these wise men of the law rule over their domain. The law is sacred above all, and is worshipped as one may worship an old and traditional pagan deity. The pure judicate raises those who execute the law properly, and brings down those who disobey.

Samangan's Notes: "And in its wonderful equality, this law often find itself serving well the lawgivers, and not so much the lawtakers. A sacral law without a commitment to the flock, is not such law at all."

Sympolities are ritual unions of many parts brought together in a unifying mission. Many of the fragments of the Spire are miniscule and tiny, and sympolities bring these together in common cause. Unified ritual, rite, worship, compel into confederacy smaller nations. The pure sympolity is endlessly discursive and deliberative, always defining its boundaries and balancing between its parts, absorbing more into its reaches or fraying at the edges, both weak and strong.

Samangan's Notes: "It is a miracle of the government of Vaspukaran that we are able to accomodate the autocephalates so well, and a disaster for the sanity of our legal system. Such are the tradeoffs of sympolity."

Blood Reign is the adoring of the hereditary and ancient lineages and titles of family and nobility. Those places who cherish blood rite often create assemblies of discussion and debate where the best men and women, as they see themselves, may control and guide the affairs of the country. The blood itself is holy, and the blooded must conduct themselves in the fashion of responsibility and power that befits their special, divine station. The family is the center of blood rite.

Samangan's Notes: "And nothing bad has ever happened when one trusts blood over any kind of wisdom, not at all."

There is sometimes said to be a fifth type of country, the Whole Congregation, where the whole of the flock may be involved in the mediation of a relationship with God, but such a country exists only in tall tales, and in any case each of those governments above offer participation of the flock in varying ways. To suggest that the congregation may in and of itself take control, is a mad absurdity fitting only for the heretic.

Samangan's Notes: "In Maravan's days, the censors were more lenient, not non-existent. I suspect if Vadati could have published today he may have discovered a different opinion, but he was not granted such a privilege."

With the introduction of these styles complete, we may turn to the communions of the shattered spire, and how they may be understood in this framework.

The Four Eyes of the Earth

No greater places have existed in the history of this sphere. It is these four titans who bestride the remnants of the spire and encompass the hope to unite it once again. Each claim a long, unique and distinguished history, dating to the mists of the far past. In truth, however, they have all come to their current size and stature only in the past one hundred years. It is likely today a plurality, or perhaps even a majority of the population of the world reside within their bounds.

Kingdom of God [Vaspukaran]. We are the middle country. Rising from the ashes of the flood, Sufgan, Amalgast and the ravs built the foundation for the world-state. No country is greater in population, no country is larger in size. Vaspukaran is the world, and the world comes to Vaspukaran. In covenant Vaspukaran endorses sacral kingship through the Patriarch, and judicate through the high priesthood. One may see sympolity in the subordinate communions of the Autocephalates and Missions, but nowhere does one see blood reign - uniquely, Vaspukaran has banished this evil through the commandments of Karogen, and so it has benefited greatly by raising the wise and punishing the stupid. This country of ours is known across the world for its indomitable power, and the energy of its people. The rise of industry shall propel it once more to the pinnacle of creation.

Samangan's Notes: "If only one could still see this today after the war with the Mare. In actuality, the contradictions of Vaspukaran and the failures of past reform now place us in the Sanhedron in the most dire position to rescue ourselves from the potential of oblivion. Not since the Iconoclast Wars has there been a more dangerous position for our country, and precisely because of our size, every vulture on this earth will wish to see us fail. We are the mountain that if leveled will unveil such riches as to make princes out of the paupers of our neighbors."

Great Western Coven [Collegium]. Formed from the victories of the White Turban Rebellion that so influenced the Pugilist Risings, the Coven is an excess of every style of covenant, grotesque in government. In its College of Princes it holds to the absurd extreme of Blood Reign, hosting Gushan princes who have had no holdings for two-hundred years as equal members. Its College of Magi hold strictly to the laws of Yuhwa, defying the central Celestial Sejm as they wish. Its subject princes and alliances bind together a country which is not a country, with no stable capital, a greatcoat of nations diguised as empire. Its Eoraha, the witch-king, is a model of poorly conceived sacral kingship, powerful mostly in the length of his robes and ceremony. True, though, it must be conceded, that the Coven is a great power of the sea, and industry does emerge on the banks of the great river Iteru, and it does cultivate a mess of Lesser Covens, tied by their faith in Yuhwa. But still, God shall one day blind this eye, and fittingly end its despicable existence which threatens the stability of students of theopolitics everywhere, especially when we discuss 'floating chambers'.

Samangan's Notes: "The Coven is the eternal loser of the Four Eyes of the Earth, and yet by some demonic form continues to survive being inflicted losses on every front. Even now it is tied into a war it will surely lose with the Mare, and yet the five princes lost shall be replaced by three more. God should save us from this place which was created by beings not of this earth to torment us. For the interests of diplomacy, however, we must make good with it, as the Mare poses the greater threat - we hold no risk from the Coven save that it will lose successfully should we fight it."

Guarded Domains [Asharei]. The immortal and resplendent dominion of plenty in the west. The Guarded Domains is a miracle of prosperity that has held to a single sacral kingship for three-thousand years, glorious and magnificent. Its culture defines the classics of the west. Its riches are exported to the whole world. A confederation of princes and satrapies compete alongside a harem bureaucracy of thousands. Blood Reign is controlled by the lines of caste and the merit of the coil of literacy whereby understanding of arcane language accords status. Sympolity of the satraps and princes are checked after a recent settlement and renewed covenant. In this place the laws of the state are held in such esteem that one may not even believe in God, so long as they believe in the state! Such blasphemies are uncomfortably unchecked, and speaks to the self-satisfaction of this eye that believes itself above even God. It does not deign to interact much with the outside, save to squabble in wars with Tsakharia or the Azar Rajas, and even the Mare dare not arouse its rage.

Samangan's Notes: "One must wonder about this description of the Domains which seems to fit so well in some ways with that of our own Vaspukaran before the war with the Mare. Undoubtedly the Domains remain strong and stalwart, and their wars with Tsakharia prove they are not incompetent, but at the same time this is the least industrial of the Four Eyes, and the most conservative in outlook. Resistance to change is such that even slavery was not abolished until just five years past. This paradise of plenty may yet be ruptured by a rude and crude outside as we have. Though they have come to many settlements with the Mare in the past, suggesting perhaps they are less closed than we believe."

The Grand Mare [Isles Stambol]. The grasping country which extends its reaches everywhere. United under a sultanate at the time when the Ravs were ending the weeping years, the Grand Mare's transformation came when a wicked and unwise sultan was betrayed by the wily and cunning women of the Harem. Replacing him and forming a council of their Harem, these women made alliance with the palace guard of the Garden Corps, and the 'ayan frontier admirals. Together, they have formed a union that holds territories on every continent save Antipodea, and reaches out for ever more. The Valide holds special power as the elected mother of the country chosen from the Harem, and the state-cult here is very strong. Unlike the Domains, however, denial of God is wisely barred, and the old pantheons of the west still held to. The Mare has conquered the Outremare that forms its frontier, and also gained allegiance of a huge arsenal Sokii Princely States, who are bound in personal union to the wives of the state. It also despises the Western Coven, and brawls with it incessantly.

Samangan's Notes: "The Mare is a new style of power which uses the idea of the state-cult to bind together once unrelated and completely unknown peoples into a single unifying mission of world conquest. It is severely overstretched, and now fights a war against the Coven for eleven years without end, and yet the assets of the Mare are such that it can easily recover this. It is everywhere on this earth, and its power is self-evident. It may be called the first truly Spiral power, that bestrides the world, and not, as we wished, ourselves."

Four Gilded Wings

Either by provenant wisdom or good fortune, these four countries have flourished and are so honored by the Four Eyes of the Earth. Each have formidable and powerful armies and unique covenants that have guarded from the same obliteration which has seen so many other empires and nations fallen into the dominion of the four great eyes.

The Free Satrapy [Tsakharia]. Fanatically independent, having split many generations before from the Guarded Domains, Tsakharia is locked in endless conflict with its former suzerain. The Domains consider Tsakharia a part of its patrimony and Tsakharia considers the southern territories of the domains a holy ground. The satrap of this country is mostly ceremonial, and instead power is delegated to strong councils in the central cities. These councils are resistant to expansion but maintain a strong army and strong laws. Tsakharia is may be said is one of the great land powers of the west, cursed always by being between the Mare and the Domains and thus never ever able to expand. Tsakharia desires its survival at all costs, but has in recent years been exploring routes into the Kavanar Mosaic to further expand away from the eyes of the Mare and the Domains. It worships the King under the Mountain, Pagragoda, a style of worship popular in the Kavanar Mosaic as well.

Samangan's Notes: "Tsakharia is an angry mountain man who has carved out a fiefdom for himself and shall not let any take it save by his cold dead hands as a country. An excess of male enthusiasm is the likely diagnosis for the constant enragement of this place which hates the Domains so badly."

The Sunset Circle [Patranesia]. Sometimes referred to as the 'fifth eye', it is undeniable that Patranesia is a great power, with the third largest navy in the world, after the Collegium and the Mare. Overthrowing its maharajah, who fled across the sea to Landalusaj with his supporters, Patranesia is instead the greatest example of a sympolitical state-cult. The nation-god Patran, or Shiupilli, is an outgrowth of the old wargod of the ancient City of Victory that once ruled the west. Worship of his bloody visage is fanatic. Ruling the country is an elected Matapitan, a speaker who manages and corrals the isle councils and is seen with great esteem. Blocked from expansion in Camad by the Mare which it wars with constantly, Patranesia has instead turned to the far east, where the Kedaton Rim represents the vast mandala of aligned islands and mainland countries it has bound to itself by partial-representation and military might. There is no doubt that if one of the Four Eyes were to fall from grace, Patranesia would soon take its place.

Samangan's Notes: "Patranesia's state-cult can only be called a special kind of idolatory which is transparently tied to the success of the country. But doing so is a denial of an all-loving God, and instead exchanges him for one who plays special favorites with one set of islands in the western fringe."

Dreamland [Ginnugarap]. Dreamland is a mystic and misty country that still retains isolation from the world and has battled off attempts by the Mare to open it. Organizing itself on the basis of timeless idol-worship, Dreamland is ruled by dreamsingers, wise priests who hold their entire ancestries as their current self, and so practice a peculiar style of blood reign whereby time is an illusion and the same figures that have dominated the place always have. Dreamland's art and brilliant philosophies of time and space have greatly influenced currents in Vaspukaran, and the eucalyptus-lined shores have long been lusted for by foreign adventurers. But Dreamland mediates its relations through Half-Sleep Places, where time is allowed to run normally, and these conduits of change create a chain of transmission. It is said these days that the 'machine dreaming' is being crafted, so that the timeless expanse may integrate the possibility of industry into the schema of the dream.

Samangan's Notes: "The confessors would absolutely adore Ginnugarap as a distant concept, and be terrified of it as a place in which they lived. Not enough information is available about this country save as a mystic land, and so it is difficult to make true interpretations and not project utopias."

Blackland [Maganya]. The eternal blackland remains an unbroken dynasty even older than that of the Domains, where kingship has passed from dynasty to dynasty. The divine empress rules over the land of women, where it is said that the second gender is held in higher esteem than the first. In this country where the reliable ebb and flood of the Iteru river defines the seasons of harvest and planting, protection by hills and mountains to the east and north ensure Maganya's safety. Never stretching too far, but also never allowing itself to be conquered, Maganya is a refuge of an older world, the mosaic of the smaller countries. Strict hierarchies police the boundaries between low and high, and ensure that blood reign and judicate are most essential in this unified country. Maganya despises sympolity and seeks true unity, so it is no surprise that Amalism is so popular there as it is within the Western Coven.

Samangan's Notes: "Maganya holds a special place in the heart of anyone from Kusro, for it was the ancient monk Kusrabato who journeyed to the west of the blackland and brought back much of what passes for Kusro's covenant today. I am told this is disturbing and uncanny to Maganyans, which is deeply amusing to me."

Eight Grasping Hands

Eight states through the unification of their fragmented regions or surging power have begun to distinguish themselves far above the other fragments of the Spire. Although their power is not proven in comparison to the gilded wings and four eyes, they may yet be victorious in their striving for the pinnacle and the reconstruction of the spire.

Gontagora Shehut. Ruled by a prophet called Shehu of a faith that binds together tenets of Yuhwa, Simurgh, and Amalgast, Gontagora has swept the lowlands of the Fudano region with its calls of holy war. Great horse-bound knights have gone on campaign every year, conquering further and further, forcing remaining princes to seek refuge with the Coven or the Mare. The Shehu binds a judicate around his sacral kingship, denying both the idea of blood reign and sympolity, seeking oneness. But the Gastite tendencies of false prophecy have meant that the title of Shehu has been inherited twice, and now the third Shehu, even as he seeks expansion, will surely face recrimination from his subjects who wonder if he truly hears the voice of God, as if God is a respector of a certain family line.

Samangan's Notes: "This wild heresy of prophecy demonstrates very well the folly and danger of erecting prophets in the modern age. It is far too easy for some warlord or prince to simply claim himself a prophet, and so carve out a petty empire on the basis of god-given revelation."

Odam Osogdo. As with Danaan, this region has been traditonally ruled by the great elder councils, the Oboni, and Odas, speakers or chiefs risen to prominence by virtue of good breeding or wise rulership for the sake of the city. In recent years, however, the sanctified Oda of the city of Della has conquered all his neighbors and reformed his country into one of such great power that it gives even the Mare pause, for his military is of such capability. Sweeping aside all of his neighboring polities the Oda retains the elder councils and their combination of sympolity and judiciary, but he has destroyed many of the old chieftains or driven their families out into the highlands or the Mare. Old and ailing, he will pass his kingdom to a son from one of his many powerful wives.

Samangan's Notes: "The old Oda was a canny one-eyed man whose lack of depth perception did not prevent him from far-seeing. His heir, who since this has ascended to the throne after a short civil war is known to be an immensely attractive and sharp young man, but one with special temper."

Zunisdan Trust. There is no stranger or purer example of sympolity in all Camad. This is a bizarre country where every valley retains its own self-government and yet it is arranged into a theoretically unified league of the Zuni people, who call themselves the 'free', and live by herding between valleys. Provoked by attempted and failed invasions by the Coven and the conquest of northern grazing lands the lowland Zunis have arranged themselves into a 'trust'. This trust, an ancient and reformed institution organizes its people into companies based upon their valley, village, town or city. These companies then form conglomerates as part of the great Zunisdan Trust, which every year expands. If there is to be a central government for the notoriously fragmented highlands of south-central Camad, then it shall be this country. But it remains a tool more for self-defense than true government. There is little common law, little common leadership, and blood reign is openly mocked by the charismatic chief officers of this country. It is as if the whole of Vaspukaran was ruled by the rural Minyan Communions.

Samangan's Notes: "It would surely be a nightmare if we were to grant self-government to the Minyan Communions, and say, let them create court tabernacles or something of the sort in their own lands. What a terrible suggestion, that will gain no leeway, surely!"

Nunaat Union. In the far northwest a union of the major clans of many petty kingdoms have formed a union, called the 'family of the homeland'. Denying the idea of sacral kingship, the Nunaat instead conceives of all within it as an extended family of children, brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers. Strongly preferring models of voting and consensus agreement between the great families, the Union remains a tool for self-defense as for true government. Individual enterprising kinship clans extend their reach out across the Nuni Ocean named for they who most ply it. Seeking furs and wool from the far east, the Union has seized significant holdings from Merovanj and holds these as both areas of 'friendship' and also as meeting fires between the east and west where they might ply their wares. A fusion of sympolity and blood reign, the Union does not involve itself much in politics further south but pays tribute to the Domains and resists fiercely any encroachments by the Mare.

Samangan's Notes: "This people I have found to be some of the most hospitable I have ever met, as well as the most hardy. I have great sympathy for them, as Kusro's climate is similar to the south of their own country, and their stone-stacked monuments are truly extraordinary to behold."

Fanjakan Rajemisa. The Fanjakan has been one of the fastest rises of recent memory. An isolationist monarchy defeated forty years ago by the Mare, the Rajemesa Dynasty of queens has unified all parts off-coast archipelago and transformed into a great new naval power. Deeply fascinated by the Mare, the Fanjakan has allied itself to its former enemy, and now extends its reach southeast. Using newly discovered routes and coaling stations they expand their power power into the frontier of Aurura and make war with the fleets of Hadashtai, recently shocking all outsiders by defeating Hadashtai at Tontokin and opening its territories to foreign trade. Under the Rajemisa Queens, the Fanjaken glorifies their power and maintains a strong adherence to the law, but denies the divisions of sympolity or the conceptions of blood reign, preferring instead to raise on merit especially women of meager standing to positions of high government.

Samangan's Notes: "This country is a surprise, and an example of how one should not discount peoples on the basis of inferiority. The ingenuity and focus of the Rajemisans is something to behold, and something to emulate, for how fast they have risen to the ranks of the great."

Ummat Timar. When the Mare felled its sultan, not all agreed with the direction taken by the Harem and the Garden Corps. Seeking a puritan expression that denied anything that smelled like kingship, the wealthy Koraki family crossed the sea. With them were followers from a failed Mare civil war. In Firanhj they were granted a march across the River Maeot by the Rexes of Merovanj, and there formed what would become the Ummat Timar. In union with local farmer-communities fleeing the weight of serf subjugation in Merovanj or the tribute of Golgaria, the Ummat, or community of believers, has grown from a small series of eight estates on the eastern coasts to an eminent and rising power in the far east. A landholding congregation where those who hold property may determine the path of God, this strange alteration on the old rules is a judicate even purer than the Mare. Law and law alone rules, and the natural law is indivisible from God. Ruled by a congress of the Sovereign Elect, the Ummat sees as its destiny the control of much of the center of the continent, and to burst forth from the sea-domination of Andoles and Patranesia.

Samangan's Notes: "There has been no shortage either of Vasp migrants who have gone to this country. It is by any means quite impressive, and yet one cannot help but be disappointed in the limitations of power to the Sovereign Elect descended from the founding families of this country."

Mandala Andolesi. When the Patranesian Maharajah was defeated in the Great Western War and fled across the sea, he did not come alone - much of the fleet, aristocratic in nature, fled with him to the far east. They were granted a march on the western reaches of the declining August Perpetuity, beyond the silver straits. The Maharajah and his court settled here and built a new mandala centered on the fertile western peninsula, conquering petty kingdoms with superior technology. Binding themselves to locals through marriages, the Andolesi abandoned their allegiance to the weakening Perpetuity and built a new dominion of their own. Devoted in adoration of their king and holding to the old mandala model of control, the Andolesi may struggle yet against other more novel forms that yet challenge them, and still hold a vicious rivalry with the Patranesians, competing over the silver straits on the eastern edge of the Erythaean Sea.

Samangan's Notes: "The Maharajahs remind me somewhat of the Rohirs in that it seems absolutely impossible to get rid of them. They may be crushed in one place and appear in another. The Rohir descendents, at least, are reduced to a title - the Patranesians must deal with a new empire!"

Myriad Ralanui. From the southern jungle these descendents of ancient migrants from the Arcteryxan explorers have emerged as one of the greatest sympolity-kingdoms of the current world. It is ruled by a federation of wise Ala'nui priests elected from among the regions of the country, and the elected Kahuna. The Myriad has grown into a formidable and beastly country, surging from the jungles to the highlands in the north to the pampa in the south. Everywhere it is pushing, and everywhere it is fighting, year after year, its militia soldiers pushing further and further towards the coasts. Already they have overwhelmed the coastal kingdoms of the east and fought the Mare expeditions to a standstill, and now they take to the seas. Emerging industry propels this country into the ranks of powers that may well soon earn gilding for their honoring of God.

Samangan's Notes: "The Myriad is an example of the growing power of sympolity. In an era where literacy and print allow the education of the many, is it not then possible to bind together a multitude of princes under a single banner? Cannot this be done in Vaspukaran as well?"

Four Broken Knees

Four old and decaying dominions have by failure and their own imperfections been toppled from the heights once reached. Where praises were sung, and riches flung, to these countries, now they stand teetering on the edge of defeat and collapse. A stern warning is made by their weakness to the other countries, that those who do not properly honor God will doom all.

Twin-Dead Isles [Hadashtai]. Formed by those who were exiled from Dreamland to an offshore island, and declared ever-dead, Hadashtai grew to be a great and mighty trading empire forged by the settlement of islands to the north where lived peoples similar to those of Osogdo. Dominating the archipelago of the twin-dead isles for which is it named, Hadashtai's Undying Council of 101 elders cultivated blood reign and shared faith of its core over the imperatives of central kingship long feared for its associations with Vaspukaran, or sympolity which threatened the dilution of the old elite of exiles. But after defeats by Vaspukaran during the reign of the Infallible Patriarchs, and then by the Mare, and finally a sinking of its fleet by Rajemisa, Hadashtai may yet spin apart. Overly dependent on mercenaries from Osogdo, and on support from Patranesia for naval improvements, many of Hadashtai's subject cities, heavily independent, may seek freedom and better terms under more modern powers. The idea of Hadashtai, as a union of cities of Aurura rejecting the timelessness of Dreamland, may yet perish.

Samangan's Notes: "The Twin-Dead Isles' great failure has always been their exclusion of their subjects from power. Relying instead on a narrow faithful core, they are hopelessly outmatched against the more modern countries of Rajemisa and the Mare who bring all they have to bear. A warning for us."

Sanctified Expanse [Merovanj]. No country has inspired more romantic paeans than this place of castles and horse-bound knights. The colossus of Firanhj and the first daughter of the Yuhwan Eastern Coven has been ruined by those they call 'Maracens'. Where only sixty years ago under their greatest Rex, Carolus, the western coast was conquered, now the country is in torpor. Although not nearly so advanced in decline as Kanguedoc or the Emperian Lhatan Carolus Rex helped weaken, Merovanj's frailty were exposed in a war with the Mare over trade which Merovanj lost terribly despite significant support from the Western Coven. Now the weakened expanse, where the priesthood feuds with the king and blood assemblies, faces dire choices on how to proceed. The Rex, cloistered in the divine capital of Aach Urbes, allows for the countryside to be dominated by military aristocrats and for the west to be engulfed in disorder between the feuding douxal limits, who seek to advance themselves at the expense of the center. Without strong support from the Magos Maximus, the highest witch-priestof the Eastern Coven, Merovanj faces decay and weeping years aplenty.

Samangan's Notes: "Perhaps because Merovanj is so popular as an allegory rather than a real country, I suspect that Vadati has peppered some commentary in his description. His hidden warning, that we may become as Merovanj did, has never been more obvious now."

Four Cornered Sun [Kanguedoc]. Alas, poor Kanguedoc! So far from God, and so close to the Mare. What was the greatest kingdom of southern Camad has become a shadow, near to utter destruction. Where the Sun-King's light shone from the Jade Sea to the Mesogaic Gulf and Tethys, now only a sliver of royal demesne still remains. Worm-eaten by vassals swearing allegiance to the Mare, and with an aged and ailing king, Kanguedoc is the furthest advanced to collapse of any of the broken knees. When it was vigorous, Kanguedoc was a model of sacral kingship and a testament to the power of blood reign. Now over-mighty princes have shattered it, and the country lies at the brink of total destruction. The patchwork of laws, and the over-eagerness to run over local interests in the sake of royal power, have created so many enemies that there is almost relief at the Mare's invasion and conquest of this, what has become the jewel in the Valide's crown.

Samangan's Notes: "The warning left by Kanguedoc is that an overreach of kingship combined with over-mighty vassals can be exploited by foreign enemies to completely destroy the country. What was the sun-kingdom is now the Outremare, and a pathetic, dying sliver of itself."

August Perpetuity [Lhatan]. A divine empire close to the purest example of sacral kingship in existence, the August Perpetuity is in steep decline. Threatened to the east by Patranesia and to the west by its former vassal of Andoles, the rise of a Firanhji dynasty dispatched from Merovanj placed this schismatic Yuhwan empire back into the communion of the Eastern Coven but fatally weakened it. To the north, Golgarian tsars grow ever bolder in pushing its frontiers. In the southwest Despotates form out of those who reject the authority of the Emperian Lhatan, as it calls itself. To the immediate south, Ralanui explorers find passes through the mountains and raid the coast. To the west, the Andolesi strip its sugar-island territories away. And Patranesia hungers for control of the straits. It is only the support of the Grand Mare, which does not wish for any great new power to seize control of these profoundly important straits, that prevents a fleet of Patranesia or Andoles from putting a final lie to the Perpetuity's name.

Samangan's Notes: "The danger of the Perpetuity in particular was that trying to force a common communion on another country to heal schism will inevitably make the schism worse. The perpetuity is now risking disintegration, and Merovanj's overextension contributed to its current disaster."

Great Regions

Everywhere else within the world God must especially treasure, for these peoples are those who are the demolished material of history, or else hold within them the embryos of greatness. A short survey of these areas shall suffice, for they are not of sufficient note to otherwise mention save for their reaction to and survival of the great Eyes and hands and wings of the fragmented spire.

West & South Camad. Here one may find the Arcteryxin archipelago, a maze of islands kept deliberately divided by local chiefs, the Mare, and Patranesia, who fear any strong power emerging here would impede western routes. Between the Mare and the Domains is the Azar Peninsula, a place of small rajahs competing in petty games within the giants' shadows, and the Multepalli of Kokom, united in the past in a single league now hopelessly fragmented and feuding. In South Camad of course the Kavanar Mosaic is a place of tiny valleys and shifting sands, where one hundred languages exist together, while to the east the better developed Higher Zun faces the encroachment of Coven, Zunisdan, and Mare, and organizes more fully to defend themselves.

Samangan's Notes: "The pressure of the major powers on these regions is growing more with every passing year. It may be that they will soon enough have to form into sympolities to survive, or else die entirely, crushed beneath the weight of the great empires."

North & East Camad. In the east of Camad one finds both the highland leagues and lowland princes of the Kano, the former defending themselves from the approaches of Vaspukaran and the latter from the Coven, the former well-unified and the latter totally fragmented. To the north is the pitiable chieftains of the transmontane that exists beyond the Coven and the Domains, the ground too thin and the air too cold to grow much of anything. And between Gontagora and Osogdo are the highland states, who increasingly form themselves to face both of these ambitious countries as well as Vaspukaran, whom they have as of late become a pestilence in raiding.

Samangan's Notes: "These highland leagues may have formed partly to protect against Vaspukaran, but even in our reduction of foreign excursion remain united. This is something of a lesson that this new age favors construction over destruction, and we may see the formation of new nations soon."

Greater Aurura. In this region we may find some of the strange and mysterious places, such as the Millawa River-Princes who still fight on moa and who now brawl endlessly with the importation of rifled muskets from the Rajemisa. In the Murawungi inlets herders and fishermen live idyllic lives in a wet country and trade with passing whalers, whilst the smattering of islands scattered as stars across the Muralage Sea retain small settlements of islanders influenced by the faith in dreams of Hadashtai and Ginnugarap. Finally, and accursedly, there exist small communities of the shipwrecked, the enterprising, and the damned, who do sinfully and attempt to settle enclosed inlets of the Antipode, where potatoes may be said to grow in the right conditions if it may be believed. May they all be expelled, and the evils of the ice not be unveiled!

Samangan's Notes: "I underline again that Vadati does not like the cold. I know it is a subtle thing, difficult to spot without expert interpretation."

Firanhj and Landalusaj. In the Evar Taiga, the purest examples of the old Firanhj before the conquests of Merovanj still persist in boreal forest, whilst on the savanna of Golgaria tsars and princes fight the Ummat, the Perpetuity, and most of all each other for dominance. In the Calixtine Antilles heresies and syncretic fantasies abound, and pirates are rife, with many small and independent isles who obey the Mare and Patranesia as they order and pass through. On the Despotatic Coast, the holdouts of the Frati who deny the new Lhatan royal dynasty of the Perpeuity fight for the privilege of fighting for the imperial crown. Finally, to the very far south, on the pampa of the extremadora, vaqueros and hidalgos fight against the encroachment of the Myriad in vicious wars for cattle and land.

Samangan's Notes: "The frontiers of the world are closing. In their place, new countries take hold, and old countries fall apart. What then shall be the state of the spire at the turn of the next century? What technologies shall be unleashed, and what shall they do to us all?

Praised be God for placing such a multitude of peoples on this earth, and cursed is man for splitting us apart! Let it be written, and let it be said, that the dream of Vaspukaran is the unification of the whole world! And let is be said, that if the whole world should be unified, that it shall be a mosaic miracle!

Samangan's Notes: "Amen."

The Sect and the Spire

But what do you, HaKhofshim believe, after seeing all of this before you? The unity of the world is a fine goal, but in the past you have chosen to dispense with the idea of the Spire, of the assumptions of High Confession. How then, should unity be achieved? For a long time Vaspukaran was seen as synonymous with the world. But the sect reading of this book, held on the 25th of Shavat, brings to question that idea, and renews the imperative in this new age to bring forth the message of Pugilism and HaKhofshim to the world. Right now, this question may be a mere matter of theology, but perhaps soon it shall not be!

If Vaspukaran is simply first in a great multitude of nations, how should it prove itself to be the greatest of countries?

[] We must be a beacon unto the nations, set an exemplar for all to follow, and not be entangled in outside schemes! [Traditional Pugilist Position].

[] We must spread the word of God to the world with vigor but with peace, so that the world will hear our message clearly! [Amalist Position].

[] We must bring up the fallen, and break down the walls of iniquity wherever we may see it, for evil resides not just in Vaspukaran! [Iconoclast and Confessor position].
 
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[X] We must spread the word of God to the world with vigor but with peace, so that the world will hear our message clearly! [Amalist Position].

It is not enough to pursue virtue and the Spiral of Truth alone within the bounds of Vaspukaran. That way led to self-satisfied arrogance and fruitless introspection in the past. But that being said, the mad dreams of conquest of High Confession and the Infallible Patriarchs are anathema. We should not seek to enforce enlightenment on other people by arms lest we endanger our Revolution and our souls. To engage with the world by example and by dialogue, not by violence, should be the path forward.
 
[X] We must spread the word of God to the world with vigor but with peace, so that the world will hear our message clearly! [Amalist Position].

This is the sort of situation where the aggressively syncretic focus of Amalism is extremely powerful. Vaspukaran is already a huge country, almost too huge to govern. We gain nothing by moving out with our armies and fleets anymore. Yet the Game of Nations requires that we grow our influence.

So lean on the influence we must. The Amalist version of the Amalgastene creed spreads easily for it accepts that at the end of the day, the 4 Eyes, 4 Wings, 8 Hands, and all future and past nations hold a silver of the truth. We must make Vaspukaran a library of these fragments, record them, compile them and then spread them to the others via the feet of our Priests, Merchants, and mouflons.
 
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