A Letter to the Grand Cathedral of Altina
May 30, 2019 23:10:02 GMT -5
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Post by Inquisitor Crowley on May 30, 2019 23:10:02 GMT -5
Your Excellency,
As the train carries me through the mountains of Ordnel – Messiora so far ahead and the horrors of Galdria not nearly far enough behind – I feel a sense of clarity as I have not enjoyed in some time. The years I have spent stuffed away in the palatial prison of Crowley Manor, shackled within my own shattered carcass, now seem a distant memory in the wake of the Expedition. I feel as though I am reborn in fire, cast upon the anvil and hammered into something resembling an instrument worthy of serving our Lady’s justice.
Of course, this has not come to be without great complication and strife. Our journey began with the sinking of our transit vessels by Thrannish dogs locked in naval combat with our own Althaenian forces. I cannot say whether it was bloodlust or recklessness that drew Thrannish fire to us. My fellow expeditioners had the audacity to attempt to place blame upon both sides of the conflict, conveniently forgetting which land they stood in, and who the invaders were in this scenario. Sympathy for the northern devils runs rampant in the Expedition, and I have made it a point to be mindful of sympathies that border on the realm of outright treason or terrorist agendas.
Fortunately, with a few exceptions, most of those allied with the Expedition seem far removed from the concerns of this savage war, too preoccupied with the many dangers the sixth kingdom presents which, even I must admit, are as numerous as they are concerning. Whether we are troubled by living blight, the ravages of horrific Sin, or even the possibility of powerful Sins the likes of which we have never heard, it is becoming more and more evident that the Inquisition’s intervention in Galdria is urgently necessary.
For now, my duties carry me elsewhere in the name of the Order of Cowardice, and my thoughts turn to the things I must do for my order, for my country, and for our Lady’s justice. As duty will allow me only the briefest respite at the cathedral before I continue onward, and as your schedule may not allow time for more than my briefing, I hope you will indulge my confession penned while the sin festers still within my mind, so that I may commit it to this paper and purify myself for my sojourn in the homeland.
Of ignorance, I am guilty. I was certain this assignment to the Expedition was my penance, my quiet displacement to a dismal backwater where I could be summarily forgotten, my disgrace hidden far from our Lady’s light. I see now that what I do not know - what I cannot have known – could fill the libraries of Rukazen twenty times over. I read the news clippings, and dismissed it as sensationalist drivel and fantasy for the languid masses of Messiora’s salons and social clubs. I see now how wrong I was, and I shall endeavor to enlighten myself and, in so doing, enlighten the Inquisition.
Of cowardice, I am guilty. From the moment our boats washed up in the blighted zone, the weight of terror clutched my heart like a vice. Even now it races to imagine those green-tinged shores, the unholy howling of the creatures that crawled from that blasted morass of magical filth, and the many brushes with death I experienced in my time among the Expedition. Cowardice is my Sin of Sins, my burden to bear, and I cannot help but wonder if I would be moved again to flight from such things if I thought my legs could still carry me fast enough to make the effort. I cannot decide if I more despise the self-absorbed young hero who fled the death of his honor, or the wounded animal that now claws and gnashes its teeth for its own pitiful survival. I will reflect on this failure, and seek wisdom and guidance in the scriptures.
Of wrath, I am guilty. I stand now, shoulder to shoulder, beside the very menaces I have grown to so despise. The brutish gargoyles of the north and the many barbaric wretches who pledge their loyalty to Thran’s brutality infest the Expedition like a virus. How can I not hate these vile heretics who have so wounded our beloved country? Who call upon heathen gods that mock the rule of law to work their insidious witchcraft? Some of them have shown acceptance, even a faltering simulacrum of kindness, but I see the enemy’s face at my back as surely as I see it before me, and I must bite my tongue to prevent myself from calling attention to their foulness.
Of greed, of lust, of apathy, and of pride, I have kept my soul pure. I reject the desires of the material and the wants of the flesh. I commit myself to the righteousness of our expeditious cause. Pride, perhaps, is the least of my concerns. The thought of ever again succumbing to the perils of self-aggrandization seems a hollow joke as things are.
I ask forgiveness for my many failings, your Excellency. I ask that our Lady Altina judge me worthy to carry on Her good works. I dedicate myself of body, mind, and soul to the spirit of our Commonwealth, to the grace of the cathedral, and to the cause of the Inquisition.
Lord Silas Crowley
Apprentice Inquisitor of the Order of Cowardice
As the train carries me through the mountains of Ordnel – Messiora so far ahead and the horrors of Galdria not nearly far enough behind – I feel a sense of clarity as I have not enjoyed in some time. The years I have spent stuffed away in the palatial prison of Crowley Manor, shackled within my own shattered carcass, now seem a distant memory in the wake of the Expedition. I feel as though I am reborn in fire, cast upon the anvil and hammered into something resembling an instrument worthy of serving our Lady’s justice.
Of course, this has not come to be without great complication and strife. Our journey began with the sinking of our transit vessels by Thrannish dogs locked in naval combat with our own Althaenian forces. I cannot say whether it was bloodlust or recklessness that drew Thrannish fire to us. My fellow expeditioners had the audacity to attempt to place blame upon both sides of the conflict, conveniently forgetting which land they stood in, and who the invaders were in this scenario. Sympathy for the northern devils runs rampant in the Expedition, and I have made it a point to be mindful of sympathies that border on the realm of outright treason or terrorist agendas.
Fortunately, with a few exceptions, most of those allied with the Expedition seem far removed from the concerns of this savage war, too preoccupied with the many dangers the sixth kingdom presents which, even I must admit, are as numerous as they are concerning. Whether we are troubled by living blight, the ravages of horrific Sin, or even the possibility of powerful Sins the likes of which we have never heard, it is becoming more and more evident that the Inquisition’s intervention in Galdria is urgently necessary.
For now, my duties carry me elsewhere in the name of the Order of Cowardice, and my thoughts turn to the things I must do for my order, for my country, and for our Lady’s justice. As duty will allow me only the briefest respite at the cathedral before I continue onward, and as your schedule may not allow time for more than my briefing, I hope you will indulge my confession penned while the sin festers still within my mind, so that I may commit it to this paper and purify myself for my sojourn in the homeland.
Of ignorance, I am guilty. I was certain this assignment to the Expedition was my penance, my quiet displacement to a dismal backwater where I could be summarily forgotten, my disgrace hidden far from our Lady’s light. I see now that what I do not know - what I cannot have known – could fill the libraries of Rukazen twenty times over. I read the news clippings, and dismissed it as sensationalist drivel and fantasy for the languid masses of Messiora’s salons and social clubs. I see now how wrong I was, and I shall endeavor to enlighten myself and, in so doing, enlighten the Inquisition.
Of cowardice, I am guilty. From the moment our boats washed up in the blighted zone, the weight of terror clutched my heart like a vice. Even now it races to imagine those green-tinged shores, the unholy howling of the creatures that crawled from that blasted morass of magical filth, and the many brushes with death I experienced in my time among the Expedition. Cowardice is my Sin of Sins, my burden to bear, and I cannot help but wonder if I would be moved again to flight from such things if I thought my legs could still carry me fast enough to make the effort. I cannot decide if I more despise the self-absorbed young hero who fled the death of his honor, or the wounded animal that now claws and gnashes its teeth for its own pitiful survival. I will reflect on this failure, and seek wisdom and guidance in the scriptures.
Of wrath, I am guilty. I stand now, shoulder to shoulder, beside the very menaces I have grown to so despise. The brutish gargoyles of the north and the many barbaric wretches who pledge their loyalty to Thran’s brutality infest the Expedition like a virus. How can I not hate these vile heretics who have so wounded our beloved country? Who call upon heathen gods that mock the rule of law to work their insidious witchcraft? Some of them have shown acceptance, even a faltering simulacrum of kindness, but I see the enemy’s face at my back as surely as I see it before me, and I must bite my tongue to prevent myself from calling attention to their foulness.
Of greed, of lust, of apathy, and of pride, I have kept my soul pure. I reject the desires of the material and the wants of the flesh. I commit myself to the righteousness of our expeditious cause. Pride, perhaps, is the least of my concerns. The thought of ever again succumbing to the perils of self-aggrandization seems a hollow joke as things are.
I ask forgiveness for my many failings, your Excellency. I ask that our Lady Altina judge me worthy to carry on Her good works. I dedicate myself of body, mind, and soul to the spirit of our Commonwealth, to the grace of the cathedral, and to the cause of the Inquisition.
I remain, faithfully,
Apprentice Inquisitor of the Order of Cowardice