Itinerant: A Pilgrim Quest

[X] Prayed

The Malefactors are evil bastards, but they're no match for our faith. For though we have struggled with following the laws of man, we have not forsaken the laws of God.

No matter what that one priest tries to say.

Also, called it. Either that was just a fever-dream, in which case it didn't matter, or an actual devil, in which case I'm glad we refused.
 
5.4 A Messenger From The Saints
Pray! Good for you. Once this is all over, I'll explain WTF those scenes are, because I am kind of cheating at religion here. But I hope I do it in a fun way! Onwards, update. Another short one, I am afraid. They will get long soon enough! I hope.


5.4 A Messenger From The Saints

Tormented by the devils, and beset by your sins, you nonetheless did not lose faith in the Saints that guard you, and you raised your hands to the sky and prayed, invoking their names, and commending yourself to them, so that in the hour of your death, they could hear that in your heart, you were pious, and never turned from them.

And the sound of the holy song was unbearable to the devils, and they cried at it, for it reminded them of the depth of their own damnation; and then, a trumpet was heard, and light shone on you; a divine messenger had been commanded to retrieve you from the pit of misery, and bring you to light. He was gold-wreathed and fairer than any man could ever be, and the devils recognized in him someone more mighty than them, and released their hold on you at once.

He took you into his arms, and freed you from the mud, and from the cold, and from all the evil afflictions, and he took you to a place which was a very tall bridge, all made out of very fine stone; and around you, there were some other men and women, who each walked with a candle in their hand; and some of the candles were very bright, and some burned low. And among them, you thought you saw some who seemed familiar to you, such as the red-headed maid, who had a candle which was barely alight at all, and abbot Galen, whose light was bright enough to seem like a star. You thought: those are the living, who still seek the road to Step everlasting, and the common sainthood that was promised. And you saw, in the distance, on top of a hill that seemed very far away, a glint of gold, and light that beckoned, and you rushed towards it, for the bridge connected to it. But you were stopped by the saintly messanger, and he explained to you that you were not yet ready to witness the everlasting glory; and that the bed is prepared for you in the abode of the Malefactors, but the house of the Saints is not yet certain to receive you. Then, he asked you if you understood what you were shown; how the Saints allowed the devils to claim you, if only for a time, so that you could by your own eyes witness damnation, and their infinite justice, which rightly punishes the wicked, and spares the men of good nature; and how the Saints next allowed you to be shown how the temporal is: a search for the road to the city of Step with a candle in hand, that burns low for sinful, and blazes bright for the pious. For, as he explained, each man and woman carries in their soul a lamp, given to them by the Saints (and that is why when a child is received, a candle is lit; for it represents the lighting of the light of good religion), and if they are correct in their actions, it grows radiant, and reveals to them the path they must walk to find Step everlasting; and for those who become saints, it also shows to them the name of the God, which is written on the stones of the bridge. But for most, it simmers, and they look for the correct path blindly, often falling into the error of sin, tripping and missing steps, risking falling entirely. He also explained that it is why those who were not received into the saintly religion were barred from salvation, for in their soul, there was no light that could guide them; they were lost. The bridge was very tall, and without a light, it was easy to fall from it, for it was also narrow, and below it, there was damnation that you had only recently escaped.

Next, the saintly messanger displayed to you some candles: one of them was sun-bright, the other shone strongly, another was of a middling flame, one almost guttered out, and one was gone entirely, and he asked of you if you recognize which one of those is the light of your soul.

Without thinking, you picked…

[ ] The brightest candle.

[ ] The strongly-burning candle.

[ ] The middling-flame candle.

[ ] The dim candle.

[ ] The guttered-out candle.
 
[x] The middling-flame candle.

We have a place reserved in hell, so probably not that bright, but our faith is strong and we do not blasphem like certain redheads, and we're not utterly hopeless.

I'm kinda torn between this and strong flame tho. Convince me?
 
[X] The brightest candle.

We're a woman who left the comforts of home and our ailing father for the sake of finding a miracle no one knows how to find. We shed blood for that goal, and despite all the torments that we've experienced and await us, we haven't given up Hope.

If that isn't Faith, then I don't know what is.
 
[X] The strongly-burning candle.

I think that it is undeniable that we have stayed strong in faith through troubles but to say that we are immaculate is arrogance.
 
The brightest candles are for people like Gaben, er, Galen, and the Saints.

We did doubt the justice of the laws that are supposedly laid down by the Saints, although it was when it came to the suffering of the common man, which the Saints are supposed to deliver from. We did take up arms, but only so that we could make way to the city of Step through all the perils that await us on the road.

We are hardly spotless, but believe we did whatever we did for a good cause. We have also sworn with the strongest of oaths to never falter in our journey to the City of Step, so I suppose that counts for something, too.

[X] The strongly-burning candle.

Overall, I'd give our candle 7/10, would pray again.
 
Last edited:
So, today's update is different! Since I wanted to catch up on some things, and also explain some other things, instead of a story update, I will be putting up an explanation of some elements I have recently presented in the quest. I hope you enjoy that, too. Normal service will return tomorrow.

1. Is Ulla really a pagan?

So, one of the fundamental problems which are prevalent in both fiction and general thinking about the middle ages and Christianity is the idea that you can be either Christian or pagan; this is very much the result of the Church itself focusing very hard on imposing orthodoxy on the entire body of its believers, particularly through the Reformation and the Counterreformation, which both held a similar goal of "clearing" the Christianity from wrongful belief. However, historically speaking, the matter becomes way more blurry. We are used to the depiction of crusading Christian priests who with fire and sword forcibly turn pagans from their beliefs and destroy their previous temples, and there is some basis to such imaginary. However, very often the process looked different, and the turning from paganism to Christianity was far more gradual and grounded in sometimes very bizarre syncretism. Early medieval localized saint cults are a very fine example of that: they are often theorized to have freely melded with pre-existing local pagan cults and more classical practices of hero worship, and it is not rare to find documents referencing Church's own attempts at actually taking down such cults, because they were turning – in the eyes of the orthodoxy – rather idolatrous. Here, it is also important to note that orthodoxy as we understood it today was, for a very long time, a concept available to a very narrow, educated elite, the ones who had the access to the cultural capital allowing them to clearly and distinctly identify themselves as pious, orthodox and proper Christians. This, of course, gradually spread, taking to the urbanscapes, but as far as in XVIth century in France (and XIXth century in Poland), it was very common for missionaries sent to villages and hamlets where the bulk of the population lived, to claim that those people are only theoretically Christian, while their practices are wholeheartedly pagan, without them even realizing that. And often, even the pagan sensibilities did not die; early medieval chronicles are rife with references to sudden resurgence of pagan cults happening every time when the politics allowed.

Ulla is kind of an example of that: he is fostering and maintaining religious traditions that predate the saintly religion, but he is not doing this as a conscious act of resistance against the normative forces of orthodoxy. In fact, he considers himself a member of the faith, and so does the rest of his household; old rituals to swamp-gods are now seen as being conducted in honour of particular saints, with their forms hardly changing. Furthermore, a lot of local clergy, which is barely educated, does not actually see this as wrong; they do not understand orthodoxy in the way they theoretically should be. In the end, it is impossible to situate Ulla on either side of the either/or Saintly or Pagan divide, and depending on his mood and the time of the day, he may be occupying either of those sides, or both of them at once.

2. What's the deal with Ulbert?
So, this is a funny story about stupidity, and greed. Primogeniture (that is, inheritance to the eldest) was not actually a custom among the Frances/the French up until somewhere in IXth/Xth century, when it started becoming a more common thing (there is absolutely fascinating theory about how it was one of the indirect causes for the Crusades, but it is neither here, nor there). In previous times, the inherited wealth was divided between the children of the head of the house, in various ways which I myself not always understand.

In this particular case, this division was the root of the conflict between Ulbert and Ulla. Ulbert was a man with high hopes for being wealthy and powerful, and he saw the fact that he had so many brothers as a threat; Ulla was not only fertile, but also lucky enough to have multiple sons survive into adulthood. And while two brothers was still bearable, when Ulla took on another wife, and promptly had a healthy son with her, Ulbert started to seriously worry about being bereft of the wealth he saw as his. It did not help that he was also conflicted with his father on the matters of religion and mores; having been educated away from home, he had a distinctly non-swampy views on what is proper, and semi-pagan ways of his family angered him, as did his father's propensity for taking concubines and generally acting unsaintly. However, in the end, he had no legitimate way of actually making demands off Ulla, and since he was not getting married (which probably was a minor dick move on Ulla's side – by consequently sabotaging Ulbert's chances at marriage, he was making sure that even if land was to go to him after his death, it would return to his more favoured sons later), he could not even attempt to make off on his own, and remained in his father rule. This pissed him off to no end, and it was a sentiment shared with other youth of the household and nearby which also felt robbed by their situation, and naturally flocked to Ulbert as a figure of resistance against the tyranny of the elders.

Ulbert's plan to win back his father's favour, and perhaps thin the herd around him, was pretty idiotic. Ulbert was not smart; he was one of those stereotypical illiterate, bloodthirsty warriors who were interested in fighting, feasting and greed, and little else occupied their mind; they are the staple of the negative portrayal of the epoch, even in the epoch's own eyes. In short, he was neither smart, nor cunning, though he liked to think himself that. His action of tipping the Armalings off about the feast was suicidal; the Armalings had every reason to pursue a blood feud against the house of Ulla, and were keen on doing so. Ulbert initially planned to help repel them, and thus win back his father's support (it would never work, but again – not smart). He made it worse by drinking heavily during the feast and allowing the wine to speak through him. He got riled up about you and the red-headed maid, made some mistakes, decided to go with them, caused a giant tragedy for the house. Again, mainly because he was both greedy and stupid.

3. What about all those devils?

Okay, I cheated at religion. The current vision quest you are going through is based on depictions of the final hours of life taken from various compendiums of ars bene moriendi, which became popular in late medieval Europe, and in early modern period. Particularly two elements were stolen from it: the devils intensifying their temptations and threats in the final hours of life, knowing that if they do not damn the soul immediately, they will forever defeated in this battle, and their subsequent turning away by prayer, and salvation by angelic hand. The other is showing the vision of the hellish punishment due to even the most saintly of persons; a lot of XVIth accounts of mystics and saints include rather expressive explanations of the hellish torments promised to them, because despite all their virtues, they are in fact great sinners. Theresa of Avilla, for example. Others too. That is not to say that such visions did not have earlier precedents – in fact, there is a lot of early medieval literature about travels to hell and heaven, such as for example the well-known story of Saint Patrick's Purgatory. Therefore, the vision is not entirely anachronistic, but it is a mixture of elements I stole from late-medieval pious literature, Dante, and earlier sources, so it is not that period appropriate. Still, I think it fits well with the overall tone and the setting itself, and on a more general level, I do not think it would actually be alien to the epoch depicted, even in its hode-podge state.

So, there! If you have any questions about that, ask. I'll be glad to answer.
 
Last edited:
Ulla's thing is pretty much what I expected. I mean, we still have honest Christian folk burning the.. Uh. Straw statue-depiction-thingie of Winter where I live (generally speaking) to make spring come sooner, and I'm pretty sure it's not, strictly speaking, Saintly :V

I mean, it's fun and games, not idol worship... Or is it?
 
Yeah, it's really interesting how long-lived pagan traditions are. Some of them have made it to modern etiquette. For example, over here it is considered a faux pas to shake hands over a threshold, but few would be able to tell you why - you just don't. (For those who are curious, it is considered a border between two worlds, the house and the outside. Doing business that connects one to the other risks breaching that barrier and inviting disaster inside the house). It was really naive to think an Orthodox religion could eliminate it all. A lot of it just adapted.

For example, knocking on wood is known internationally as a gesture to either invoke good luck, or stave off a bad one. It is related, I think, to the belief in the protective spirits living in trees. With the coming of Christianity, the superstition was given another explanation related to the wooden cross Christ was crucified on, while the gesture remained absolutely the same.

The Slavic folklore is one giant hodge-podge of Christian beliefs mixed with pagan ones, where traditionally pagan spirits are painted as imps, demons and servants of the Devil... while retaining their helpful/harmless attitude towards people treating them with respect or caution. You can see two systems trying to reconcile what they know about the world. Frankly, I am surprised that a view of either/or is considered to be prevalent in modern literature. :confused:

Straw statue-depiction-thingie of Winter where I live (generally speaking) to make spring come sooner, and I'm pretty sure it's not, strictly speaking, Saintly
And now I am curious where you live, because we kinda do too. :oops:

The funniest thing about it is that it became a Christian tradition and is now tied down to Christian calendar. Apparently, the Church has usurped some of the bigger pagan holidays and celebrations to avoid conflict with the locals.


2. What's the deal with Ulrig?
Uh, Ulbert. You might want to edit that. Ulrig's the one whose ass was kicked mercilessly by Dagome. Whom we totally killed. Aren't we awesome?

Ulbert is largely no surprise, except that he was even dumber than I thought. A good plotter, he wasn't. Still, there are some moments that are unclear.
However, in the end, he had no legitimate way of actually making demands off Ulla, and since he was not getting married (which probably was a minor dick move on Ulla's side – by consequently sabotaging Ulrig's chances at marriage, he was making sure that even if land was to go to him after his death, it would return to his more favoured sons later), he could not even attempt to make off on his own, and remained in his father rule. This pissed him off to no end, and it was a sentiment shared with other youth of the household and nearby which also felt robbed by their situation, and naturally flocked to Ulrig as a figure of resistance against the tyranny of the elders.
How would one sabotage his son's attempts at marriage? I mean, Ulbert is no boy, he was probably nearing his thirties. Couldn't he just... put his foot down?

Also, what kind of problem did Dagome have to turn on his father and brother? Did Gelbert's family mirror his brother's? I undersand the youths, but Dagome was a very distinguished warrior in his own right. Was he as greedy as his cousin? He probably would stand to gain more if Ulbert won...

Ulbert could totally have won, too - even with his plan. Just have the Armalings kill his father, or at least weaken his powerbase enough that the son could claim the father too weak to properly defend his holdings. Or hell, have a servant put a dagger in Ulla's back when everyone's busy fighting. But nooo, he had to reveal his hand early.

Out of curiosity - what would be our choices had we tried to leave before the battle?


No opinion about religious scenes. Not my area of expertise. Though I have to wonder, was the vision of Odo always indended to be a temptation? What would have happened had we touched his hand? What would it mean for our character, in regards to our mind and faith?
 
Last edited:
Uh, Ulbert. You might want to edit that. Ulrig's the one whose ass was kicked mercilessly by Dagome. Whom we totally killed. Aren't we awesome?

I am an idiot, shoot me somebody. Please.

How would one sabotage his son's attempts at marriage? I mean, Ulbert is no boy, he was probably nearing his thirties. Couldn't he just... put his foot sown?

I imagined Ulbert as being somewhere above twenty, actually. Twenty five, tops. His problem was that he did not actually have enough wealth to cover the costs of marriage, that is the price of mundium (a small sum paid before the wedding to signify the transition of the parental control over the bride) and more importantly, for a proper morning gift. Since Ulla and his house were rightly recognized as being wealthy and of high status, he was expected to make the gift pretty significant. However, Ulbert never managed to be economically independent from his father and his family enough to cover those costs, and Ulla was repeatedly giving him less from the family coffers than he would want, thus forcing him to either not marry, or marry below his status. To be honest, this was a situation that sooner or later would start actually bringing serious condemnations against Ulla, and was also the reason why Dagome turned against his uncle - he was appalled by the way he was treating his son, and saw it as a breach of the chieftain's supposed conduct.

Also it is important to remember that the father's rule over his sons was considered ironclad by the laws of that time, extending as far as allowing the father to kill his children if he so desired. It weakened over time, due to change in laws, the Church, and generally civilization, but nonetheless, technically speaking, only limits of power that Ulla had were ones of the custom (which he was skirting with his actions).

Ulbert could totally have won, too - even with his plan. Just have the Armalings kill his father, or at least weaken his piowerbase enough that the son could claim the father too weak to properly defend his holdings. Or hell, have a servant put a dagger in Ulla's back when everyone's busy fighting. But nooo, he had to reveal his hand early.

Totally! But hard drinking and heavy outrage due to years of frustration are a poor mix.

Out of curiosity - what would be our choices had we tried to leave before the battle?

You would either leave into the swamp at night and just avoided the battle completely, or, had you just tried to weather it out within the household, you'd leave next day with Galen, who would be one of the few survivors, and who would tend to you as to a pilgrim. At least those would be the main options; there would also be a chance to stay and help the broken home with patching up and all that.
 
Last edited:
Though I have to wonder, was the vision of Odo always indended to be a temptation? What would have happened had we touched his hand? What would it mean for our character, in regards to our mind and faith?

Yes, it was - if you note, he holds wrong attributes. Stalk of wheat and a hatchet, instead of a stalk of rye and an axe. @ManusDomine perfectly caught on what would have happened if you had touched him; it would serve as a gesture of fealty (the gesture of commendation in that time was putting one's hands into the hands of their lord, or sometimes head), and it would not have any immediate impact on the plot, but would certainly return to haunt you down the line.
 
Yes, it was - if you note, he holds wrong attributes. Stalk of wheat and a hatchet, instead of a stalk of rye and an axe. @ManusDomine perfectly caught on what would have happened if you had touched him; it would serve as a gesture of fealty (the gesture of commendation in that time was putting one's hands into the hands of their lord, or sometimes head), and it would not have any immediate impact on the plot, but would certainly return to haunt you down the line.

On another note, me catching it was actually completely random.

You see, Lucifer has been ascribed as the Demon Prince of pride in quite a lot of demonology (lol Rennaisance), and the color of this "miraculously golden figure" was that of gold.

Gold is a metal associated with perfection, rulership and pride.

Lucifer is not only the very model of pride, as described under the deadly sin, but also the Morningstar.

Since one of gold's attributes is rulership, which is associated with the sun, I based it on that.

So it all comes down to me having a huge boner for alchemy and demonology. :V
 
Back
Top