Earth Bet: House of the Sun (Cultist Simulator/Worm)

Winning Vote:
[X] Plan: My Heart beats for my Flock
-[X] Name: Emir Laurence
-[X] Male
-[X] Appearance: Tall, slender, and unnaturally lithe. Emir's beauty comes not from his looks but from his controlled movements and the smoothness in which he speaks. He is often seen wearing comfortable yet professional clothes, and his finely combed black hair stands at odds with the paleness of his skin.
-[x] Job: Priest
-[X] Beautiful: Heads turn when you walk past them and you are well versed in using that. (+2 Intrigue, +5 when trying to seduce other creatures, or just be pleasant)
-[X] Silver Tongued: Complicated words to impress the simple minded, complicated arguments to impress the wise. You know well how to weave them. (+3 to Diplomacy)
-[X] Intuitive: You have a knack for understanding the world and its more esoteric tricks. (+2 Piety, +5 when performing rituals or summonings)
-[X] Healthy: Your heart beats louder and your skin is more resilient. (+1 Health)
-[X] Normal folk: The lifeblood of the world, people who live and die without doing much, without meaning much. Yet they raised you as well as they could and love you. (Default) Costs zero coins
-[X] You realized you're well liked: The folks around you gather and hang on to your every word, you're a local informal leader. (+1 Diplomacy, start with a good relationship with the locals)
-[X] Frightened: Trauma, or a weakness that you were born with? It doesn't quite matter as you're simply weaker than most. (-10 to Personal Combat, +1 coin)
-[X] Compromised: Something happened, you overstepped or just pure bad luck. Your cult bailed you out. (You have a personal debt to the master of your cult, +2 coins)
-[X] Your heart beats louder, audible to those who care to listen (+2 Health, +5 when resisting things that would harm your body, other effects to be shown with time)

"Amen," you finished, your voice ringing through the humble chapel as the parishioners echoed in unison, bowing their heads. Slowly, you opened your eyes, watching the congregation do the same, some looking around as if emerging from deep reflection. The familiar rustle of coats and shuffling feet signaled the end of prayer, and people began to gather their things, preparing to leave. You placed your Bible gently on the pulpit and stepped down, moving to greet your flock.

"Ah, Ms. Smith," you said warmly, approaching the elderly woman who was making her slow way toward the door with the aid of her trusty walker. "How's your granddaughter doing?"

Ms. Smith's face lit up, her wrinkled lips curling into a soft smile as she chuckled. "Oh, she's doing fine, Reverend. A bit of a hellion, if you ask me, but what girl isn't at her age?" She shook her head, her voice carrying the weight of fond memories.

You nodded, sharing in her nostalgia. "Well, they do say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," you teased gently, knowing full well Ms. Smith had her own wild stories from her youth.

She leaned in, her eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. "In fact, her parents threatened to send her up here to you. Say you'll get her to quiet down!" Her laughter was loud and full of life, a contrast to her frail body.
You couldn't help but laugh along. "Well, if they do send her, I'll give her a good talking-to. Maybe sit her in the front row for a few sermons," you added with a wink that made Ms. Smith chuckle again, the sound hearty and infectious.

"Oh, you do that, Reverend," she replied with a playful wag of her finger. "And don't think you're escaping my brownies next Saturday. Leftovers and all. Consider yourself warned." She cackled one last time before shuffling her way out of the church.

As the others filtered out, you made your rounds, engaging in small conversations with each of them. Mr. Harris, who always had some fresh gossip about town; young Emily, who had just gotten her driver's license; and old Mr. Harker, who still insisted he could fix anything that had an engine, despite his age. These moments stretched on, the conversations easy and familiar. Thirty minutes passed before the last person left, but you didn't mind. You were never in a rush after service, and your next appointment wasn't for another couple of hours.

Finally, with the church now empty, you let out a deep sigh and sank down into one of the pews. The wooden bench creaked under your weight, but the familiar sound brought you a strange sense of comfort. Rubbing the bridge of your nose, you allowed yourself a brief moment of quiet. It had become something of a habit, this post-sermon ritual of sitting in the empty church, soaking in the silence. As the sole priest of this small parish, you often found yourself alone, with no one to share the responsibilities or ideas. But in these moments, you found a certain peace.

Your eyes drifted to the stained glass sun that adorned the wall behind the pulpit, its rays casting muted colors onto the floor. The sight stirred something in you, taking you back to a day long past—a day you hadn't let yourself think about in some time. The day you found yourself drawn into something far darker than you ever imagined.

You hadn't thought yourself the kind of person who would join a cult. After all, you were a reverend, a servant of the Church of the Unconquered Sun, albeit a dwindling one. The Second Great War had fractured the church, scattering its members and destroying much of its sacred texts. What few remained were fragmented, their teachings incomplete. The Church, once strong, was now a shadow of its former self. But even that didn't explain what you had done—what had drawn you to Lady Mylissa and her… following.

A shiver ran through you, not from cold but from the memory of those days. Time spent under Lady Mylissa's gaze had been intoxicating, her presence as soothing as it was unnerving. But you shook those thoughts away. That was behind you. Or at least, that's what you told yourself.
With a groan, you stood up, heading out to the car waiting in the lot. Today was one of those rare days where you had to make the drive out to the countryside, to the manor. Lady Mylissa still summoned you and the others for meetings, though you weren't sure if that was truly why you went. The drive was long, nearly an hour from the city, and the manor itself—a sprawling, ivy-covered estate—was as beautiful as it was unnerving.

You drove with the windows down, letting the late June breeze whip through the car. The sun hung low in the sky, casting golden light across the fields that lined the road. The warmth in the air did little to settle the unease that always crept into your stomach the closer you got to the manor.

Soon, the large silhouette of the manor appeared on the horizon, growing larger as you approached. Flowers bloomed in every window, vines crept up the walls like fingers reaching for the sky, and the air around the estate was thick with the scent of wild growth. Pulling into the gravel driveway, you made sure to stay on the path—Lady Mylissa would be furious if any of her precious plants were damaged. You had no desire to test her patience.

Stepping out of the car, you closed the door with a soft thud and walked along the stone path leading to the front door. The manor was as imposing as ever, its towering frame draped in greenery. You raised your hand and knocked three times, the sound echoing through the air. A moment later, the door creaked open, revealing Ava, Lady Mylissa's head maid. Young, composed, and ever so polite, she bowed deeply before ushering you inside.

"The Lady is in the conservatory, sir," she said, her voice soft, her eyes never quite meeting yours. You nodded your thanks, knowing that any attempt at small talk would be met with the same professional distance. Despite her youth, Ava had always carried herself with the quiet authority of someone much older.

"Thank you, Miss Ava," you replied, inclining your head before making your way toward the conservatory. The manor was a maze, but you had visited enough times to know the path by heart.

As you entered the conservatory, you removed your shoes, leaving them at the entrance as was custom. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of earth and flowers, the buzzing of bees filling the space. Lady Mylissa adored bees, and the conservatory was their domain. You were used to it by now, though the swarming insects still made your skin crawl if you thought about them for too long.

"Mr. Laurence, come and sit with me," a voice called from within the greenery. Lady Mylissa, of course. Her voice was as smooth as honey, each word dripping with a kind of sweetness that was impossible to resist. You turned, your heart beating just a little faster as you bowed deeply.

"I would be honored, Lady Mylissa," you replied, moving toward the stone bench where she sat, her long, flowing garments blending with the plants around her.

Lady Mylissa was a sight to behold, standing over seven feet tall, with skin the color of rich soil and clothes that seemed to grow from her very body. Her crown of flowers and vines was ever-present, blooming as if alive. There was something otherworldly about her, something that made you believe, despite all logic, that she was more than just human.

She gestured for you to sit, and you did, accepting the delicate porcelain cup she handed you. The tea, as always, was sweet with honey, and you waited for her to take a sip before drinking yourself.

"You may speak," she said, her eyes settling on you with an intensity that always left you feeling both seen and scrutinized.

You offered her the usual pleasantries, complimenting the tea, which earned you a smile. You could tell she was in a good mood today, her posture relaxed, her gaze more curious than stern.

The conversation continued, drifting back and forth as the two of you talked about life. Eventually, the other members arrived and joined, until the full group was here, including Miss Ava, of course.

Charlotte beamed at you as she waved, keeping it a bit more suppressed than she normally would. In Lady Mylissa's presence it was always better to be more held back and polite, she didn't quite demand perfect etiquette but there was something about her that suggested it.

Christopher was stooped and smiled behind his full beard, his eyes still gleaming behind thick glasses. He was on the slower side, taking his time and thinking things through in a manner that may have indicated brain damage in others his age. You knew that he merely liked to consider all sides before making a choice.

Dismas was the other male, and you could tell that he was having a hard time resisting the urge to slump back into his seat. He had likely been an urchin of some sort and the first time you had met him he had nearly stabbed you, time spent with Lady Mylssia had smoothed his edges ever so slightly but you knew that he merely kept them under wraps better.

The last person to join was the youngest, a teen who slunk inside like she didn't want to be here. Delilah was a strange person and she had quite the stubborn streak, you knew that she also worked here but didn't see her that often and it most certainly wasn't in any cleaning capacity. However you held your tongue, she was liable to snap at anybody who tried probing too deeply into just what she did when not at these meetings.

"Wonderful, now everybody is here we can get started," Lady Mylissa said with a soft clap of her hands, "Now, you all know that things are getting worse, and that something must be done about that."

There were nods all around at that, and you had to agree. The only real question was what was her plan to do that.

What is the cult's primary goal?

[] Protect the World: There are things that burn the world, it's a slow burn but eventually this world will be caught up in that flame. An apocalypse is unacceptable and so the skin of the world must be hardened.

Main Objective: Find some method to safeguard the world against the oncoming apocalypse.

Secondary Objective: Avert the apocalypse, somehow.

[] Ensure Continuation: Mankind is a fragile thing, a group prone to failure and death. Yet that doesn't mean they should be wiped out. Remold them, change them until their beating hearts can withstand anything.

Main Objective: Ensure that mankind, as a people, can survive.

Secondary Objective: Make new people that will be able to take mankind's place if needed.

[] Explore the Changes: Everything has been thrown into chaos since the Injunction, that means there is so much more to see. What is new must be scouted and written down so that it can be used.

Main Objective: Explore the world and the changes the Injunction has brought.

Secondary Objective: Discover the cause of the Injunction.

The talks had to end eventually and slowly people rose and left. You were the second to last, with Charlotte being the one to stay behind as she normally did. As you walked out of the conservatory, you were cut off by Ava.

"Hello Sir," she said with a bow, "The Lady has requested that I assist you in preparing. What is it that you would need?" she asked her voice soft but hiding a core of steel that she held when working to serve her Lady.

What is your role in the cult?

[] Martial: Keeping of the arms and armor, ensuring that when violence is called for it will be answered.

[] Diplomacy: Talking to folks, smoothing over issues and making sure that everybody gets what they want.

[] Stewardship: Checking the purse strings, keeping things in the black, ensuring that some things can just be bought.

[] Intrigue: Keeping an ear to the ground and ensuring that toes aren't stepped on, parahuman or otherwise.

[] Piety: Ensuring the rites and rituals are well kept and supplies are stocked.

[] Learning: Writing manuscripts and learning of the Lores, keeping the library well stocked and full of information.

All Lore is now level Zero.

Heart lore is now level One.