Private Reply to Pellandris

Squire Pellandris,

The Preceptor hath passed on thy report to me to provide some commentary. Thy report is reasonably detailed and enthusiasm is noted.

However, whilst thou hath shown Valour well in a few significant ways in a short time frame thy report displays a concerning lack of Humility. It is natural for all men to display an unbalanced affinity for certain virtues prior to rigorous spiritual training, but I raise this with thee now as an initial observation. It is most ordinary for Templi in training to face their own subjective tribulations with respect to certain virtues, and I am concerned that thy strong foot forward may be impacting thy measurement in judgment.  

While we as an Order may communicate our wisdom where warranted with the army, it is certainly not for thee to do so to their commanders (nor indeed is it mine, but the Preceptor). Moreover though they doth at times stray from the Light, it is both pragmatically and ideologically desirable that our bonds strengthen, rather than fray, especially during times of war.

Do not take this as a disciplinary note, but in the spirit it is intended: an educational one.

Thy efforts are noted. Continue to walk in the Light.
Initiate

[Justice]

Preceptor,

I ask that thee consider this report my formal submission documenting the events of this eve' for the satisfaction of my commitment to Justice with respect to my seven trials.

For my initial arrest of the wytch and additional context, I enclose another report: http://cove.sugeworld.com/forum/index.php?topic=16117.msg101890#msg101890

Though I had hoped the evil thing would break under extended confinement and provide information, their mind was clearly lost to darkness beyond all reach. Therefore, for all to see, I brought the fiend to open confession so that they may either face absolution or damnation.




As you know, it choose the latter, dying as it lived. In heresy.




Its crimes many and severe, its foul screeching offended many in our holy Chapel, but they must hear the cry of evil in order to know it. As requested, I delivered my judgement: may it please Avatar and thyself.






I note also for the record the fulfillment of the burning by Church Servant Drachen at thy wise request. Though the creature did appeal to her misguided sense of pity, she carried out the holy task. Perhaps there is distant hope for her yet.




His Will be done.




Initiate

[Sacrifice:]

The following is an account of my progress on these holy matters, to be updated as I progress.

Sacrifice: (Submitted for assessment of completion)
http://cove.sugeworld.com/forum/index.php?topic=16315.0

Justice: (Submitted for assessment of completion)
http://cove.sugeworld.com/forum/index.php?topic=16325.0

Valour: (Documents submitted for thy direction, given the outcome of the war and current events)
http://cove.sugeworld.com/forum/index.php?topic=16341.0
http://cove.sugeworld.com/forum/index.php?topic=16387.0
http://cove.sugeworld.com/forum/index.php?topic=16423.0

Honour: (Submitted for assessment of completion)
http://cove.sugeworld.com/forum/index.php?topic=16405.0

Spirituality: (Submitted for assessment of completion)
http://cove.sugeworld.com/forum/index.php?topic=16425.0

[Preceptor]

Preceptor,

I hath begun the inclusion of Church Servant Drachen in our research. After discussing her knowledge and capabilities with her at some length, I hath set her on some preliminary tasks with respect to discovering the special nature of the foul magics that the Arisen doth draw upon, and moreover to gain insight into the specific mages and necromancers that ride under their evil banner so they may be best combated strategically by us and the army. Though I do not expect her research on this latter point especially will be exhaustive, any information wilt be a boon, for their ranks hath been shrouded in mystery for too long.

Having my suspicions, I asked the fallen arcanist outright if she had had any exposure to necromancy in the past, to which I believe she answered true that she hath encountered it but finds it repulsive. I saw no lie in her eye, but arcanists are most skilled at deception and I suggest we keep an eye on this. For if she hath not already dabbled, due to her weak will she may fall to its dark influence in the coming years, through exposure to the Undead. Nonetheless, I am for now convinced enough of her disgust at the death magic that she can undertake this task without excessive fear of her corruption.

We await her output whenceforth I shalt write again on this matter.






Initiate

Private Addendum for the Preceptor

Father,

I would pass commentary on the manner in which Cassiuel put his training into effect at the first available opportunity. You recall he was caught off guard on his flank in training, yet as the mindless lesser Undead did swarm upon him he watched his flank and his Brother's back and did not allow them to break their ranks. This is promising.



That is all.

Initiate

[lich]

Looking between Joachim and Mordred as the Preceptor departed, he saw that they had grown much in their preceding  training sessions. Both had much to learn (as did he) but both displayed particular strength. Joachim had tested him surprisingly hard for a new recruit in his martial prowess, yet he fought like an impassive warrior, not driven by Avatar's light in combat in any way that Danaeyl could see. Mordred on the other hand at times appeared as if he had not been trained at all, yet his innate ability to draw on the Light to shield himself and imbue his erratic swings showed promise. Both had trained together well and showed strong ties of Brotherhood. Perhaps it was time for a real test of their bonds. It was time to at last seek and bring justice to the owner of the necromantic scrolls that Carolin had found so long ago near the graveyard. His research had indicated they belonged to no mere necromancer but a lich, though he had not been able to draw it out so far. Augustine, who stood watching over ever passively, considered the young Squires ready to undertake this taste of what was to come, and that was good enough for him.




On arriving at the graveyard the Holy squadron sliced through zombies and undead like butter, searching for any clue to the fiendish creatures whereabouts. It was nowhere to be seen, but their resources were not spent. Danaeyl turned to the Cleric with a glint in his eye; the lich had hidden long enough and she would trace the foul magic to its source.




No sooner had she began her insepction, and as she recoiled from the foul stench of necromantic energies, the Undead began to emerge anew, no doubt sensing her Holy power and attempting to thwart her goal. The Squire's barred the door two abreast and stemmed the near relentless flow of decomposing bodies. Inside the tomb, Danaeyl could only watch on in concern as Augustine made her holy ritual to combat the presence here and force it forth.




Forced from its horrible den in whatever realm it prefers to operate by the rending light of the Cleric, the monster was exposed. The four of them descended on it without mercy, and though it tried to debilitate and defeat them with all manner of evil spells, it could not stand in open day against the Avatari and eventually crumpled underneath their blades and spells, nothing but a rag of bones...for now.





Joachim wisely bringing a flame to the hideous corpse, Danaeyl put out his hand to stop him before it reached its robes. They were not lone soldiers of Avatar anymore, and had the full breadth of His power at their hands. Augustine rapidly blessed the flames and they shot out burning deeper and fuller; on contact with the sanctified flame the foul creature shrieked and writhed in pathetic agony momentarily, and then was still, utterly consumed. Satisfied, the Avatari made their way back to the chapel, for they had done His will this day.



Their night was not yet over, however. The Squires had done well at the Graveyard, but strength of the body is only one necessary element of a life in His service. Their spirit and mind needed much nourishment. The subject of Humility was chosen by the ever observant Augustine, who unbeknownst to the trio of warriors had special reason for selecting this. Both Squires answered well and true to their questions, and the Initiate sought clarification on the nature of intrinsic value. He had assumed a life without righteous accomplishment or consequence was a life without meaning, but the Cleric had said otherwise. He would reflect on this over time.




Truly, a day spent in the service of the Higher Being, as had many been recently. Looking at the young knights as he ascended the Chapel, he could not help, even at the end of this lesson on humility, feel pride in his heart at their progress. And for this pride the Initiate felt no shame.

Finishing his report on their expedition to the crypt, Danaeyl goes through the recent church reports and sees the Preceptor's lying on top. Rolling his shoulders loosely, wincing slightly as his wounds chafed against his armour, he began to read slowly.

Valour? The Vesperians had had this coming for a long time. They would be driven before the Light.
Honour? He curled his mouth slightly, lingering on the page, but he had faced the Undead many times now. He had begun to know their ways of combat.
Humility? He had much fondness for most citizens in Cove, he moved swiftly on.
Honesty? He paused and reread the text thrice. What would seeing them again prove? He scowled in spite of himself, but pursed his lips and continued.
Spirituality? He nods in agreement, a most joyous trial.
Sacrifice? He pondered the trial for a moment, but quickly saw the wisdom in this. He would seek out the fallen arcanist.
Justice? He had just the wytch in mind...better than a wytch, a necromancer.

He pens a short reply

Preceptor,

I shalt strive to do right by these holy tasks.

Initiate

With his Sister's blessing the time had finally come. Gathering his weapons and carrying his helm under his arm, Danaeyl made the sign of the Ankh slowly and muttered a short prayer and descended the Chapel stairs. Augustine had left it open to him whether he should go alone or not, and he had, perhaps foolishly, decided that this was his cross to bear. If his plan backfired, it would be only he who suffered.

Though fate had another plan in mind, for as he made to leave Squire Joachim knelt praying at the altar. Danaeyl observed him curiously from the steps, waiting for him to finish. He was quiet, and fresh faced, and Danaeyl wondered if he had the fortitude for the Order. He had recoiled when he had spoken of his plan before, Yet, it was wrong to mistake quietness and caution for weakness or cowardice, and as the Squire looked up from his prayer he saw only commitment in his eyes. It was clear that this was a sign from Avatar.




Marching from the Yewish moongate the duo walked in grim silence, but beneath his helm Danaeyl was grinning darkly. Too long had the Undead attacked without fear. This was the first step in showing them it. Arriving at the Crypt, they began to dispatch the mindless undead attracted by the Crypt's foul aura.




Going deeper into the Crypt the evidence of the Arisen became clear. They would have to be careful indeed. The Squire was clearly unsettled, but held his nerve.




They at last came to a host of graves, some of which lay open already. Searching for their target, they traveled into the deepest depths of the crypt and heaved open a grave. All the souls in this place were damned and served the Guardian. But they only needed one to talk...




The decomposed skeleton of this poor soul lay motionless. Satisfied, Danaeyl brought forth the ornate scroll with a flourish. The holy inscription on it the fruits of many weeks' labour. He only hoped now that it would work.





As the chant echoed through the empty crypts, they both stood there in silence. For a moment, it seemed it had not worked, but then...





The tortured soul emerges from the darkness, but for a time only engages in mockery and riddles. Its nature was not entirely clear, for it did seem pained and aggressive both at once. There was no time for pity for this wretched creature, for they had a task to do. The foul spirit spoke of the return of the Ancient One, all such we hath heard before, but seemed to suggest that its return would be facilitated...by war. To the young warriors' mutual confusion the spirit suddenly seemed agitated and fled before another word could be forced. As the spirit dissipates Danaeyl shouts in anger and frustration; their quest had failed.






As the pair turned to the source of the cracking wall, they both gripped their weapons tight as an Arisen pushed itself through. Eyes narrowing under his helm, Danaeyl grimaced. This was not his first encounter with this one, and he was powerful.





The fiend did not waste time on words, and launched itself at the Squire with incredible speech and strength. Though we cut it, its wounds sealed themselves quicker than they could deliver them. Joachim fought bravely, and together they almost brought the monstrosity down; but a jagged cut to the Squire's leg put an end to this as he fell bleeding to the floor. Cackling, the abomination left down the hall. Sparing one look back at Joachim, rage and foolishness overtook Danaeyl's mind and he tore through the crypt in pursuit of the foul Arisen.






Mind clouded by the red mist, his swings became erratic, taking the Undead off guard momentarily, but soon enough the ageless fiend brought the inexperienced Initiate low. Bleeding badly, and drained of all adrenaline, he began to crawl back to the Squire. As he hauled himself across the crypt floor, he waited for the inevitable blade in his back...but it never came. The Arisen had gone, simple laughing and telling him that 'he knew his name'. He did not know what this meant, but he had to get himself and the Squire out of here before more fell upon them.





Grimacing in pain as he climbed the stairs down, he saw Joachim lying unconscious and bleeding. Had he not been here, there would have been little hope for survival for Danaeyl. He saw now that below his quiet insecurity beat the heart of a warrior. They had learned nothing, and had almost lost much, and still might if they did not leave soon. Attempting to haul Joachim to his feet, the spirit emerged once again from the dark. This time, their discourse bore fruit. All was not lost. It spoke of a sword that could destroy the Ancient One and other Arisen. It said that this was an old Avatari relic, and that we had forgotten it..how can this be? Grimacing, Danaeyl resolved he must report its words to Hugo and heed his thoughts, for this was far beyond his knowledge.




Attempting to bandage the Squire as best as he may, the binding broke and the spirit faded away. The pair slowly made their way from the crypt, both leaving a trail of blood in their wake, but Joachim especially in a bad way. They stumbled into the open, the morning sun had broken...how long had they been in there? As they travelled they came across multiple animal corpses and hides, and they both knew they were being watched from the shadows.




Why did the fiends not attack? What foul intent did they have? This was too much to think of now, and after delivering Joachim to the Good Doctor, Danaeyl collapsed in a stone chair in the Chapel, frowning deeply, and began to pen his report to the Preceptor. All things considered, things could have ended much worse. They had made a significant step in bringing the Arisen to their knees this day, though the words of the fiend echoed in his mind. What did he mean he knew his name? Why had he not killed him in the crypt? Much left unanswered.

[ADDENDUM]

ADDENDUM

Petty thugs wearing Vesperian symbols attacked whilst I studied late the same eve. The Guardsmen on duty and I dispatched this failed assault with ease. Yet their brazen attitude should be noted.

We did not bury the heretics. Is it not enough for them that they dishonour their own lands with their depravity, yet still they bring it to our doorstep? May Avatar drive divine punishment upon them.

[heretical]

Avatari,

As requested by the Preceptor I enjoined the army in their attempts to parlay with the heretical Vesperians. No sooner than we walked through the doors their unhinged leader did begin casting aspersions on all present, including the Northern Chapter. He had nothing to say in the face of the accusation that his peoples' perversion doth facilitate the arisen Undead through SIN, and did produce a letter declaring war to the Baron. I enjoined the armies assault on their naval fleet, advising them to seek out the Northern Chapter to ATONE for their sins and fill our Sisters' diaries with appointments of baptism. It is up to them if they heed His call - or continue to endanger us with their evil ways and be put to the sword.



I suggest we Templi hone our abilities together, and that the Sisters perfect their holy magics in preparation.

The crusade is begun and the unholy doth cringe before the Light.

Initiate Danaeyl

[Squire Casseiul,]

Squire Casseiul,

A routine but important duty. Though the Guardian's curse doth flow through their veins, they sought out His protection and submitted themselves to our oversight.

Rejoyce for thou hath brought two lost sheep into His flock, but be ever wary that the evil that lurks within them doth not resurface.

Keep a particular eye on Tyrell. It is most likely that they simply lacked the physical fortitude to endure their branding with dignity, but if what you say proves true further investigation should be made.

Ad maiorem dei gloriam

Initiate Danaeyl

As the deep blackness of late night enveloped Cove, the moon barely visible through thick clouds, Danaeyl stood at the doors of the Chapel, hood drawn tight, sword on his back and shield at his side. Peering up the stairs of the chapel he gently swung the double doors open as quietly as possible so as not to wake her. She had given him a wide berth since he had snapped at her over Garshinkle's lifeless body for her delay in giving his quest her blessing. Still she does not, even after this terrible night. He saw fear in her eyes when she looked in his. But her fear is misplaced, and it should be directed at the Guardian spawn at our gates.

She had not been in Cove long, but the unspoken tension between them was almost palpable after Saerandir left for the evening. He knew her careful disposition would lead her to tarry endlessly over giving her approval and blessing, if not outright denying it. This was time he did not have. This was time that nobody in the North had. Head low, he took off at speed over the Chapel grounds till he reached the cover of the forest, looking back to the Chapel window for a giveaway sign of candlelight and her face at the stained glass. But the Chapel remained dark and all was well; he was away. He had not forgotten the lessons of his life as a ranger but his thoughts cascaded erratically as he tried to lightly jog over the forest floor, finding himself encumbered by his heavy armour. Slowing and looking at an ornate scroll hidden away in his cloak pocket he paused. He did not know what would happen when he reached the Yew Crypts and carried out his plan, but he knew it must be better than this. He pressed forth, expression grim.

As the forest grew thicker and his steps slowed, he thought back to his last meeting with Hugo. He had cautioned of his rash nature and willingness to go to any lengths to defeat evil. In part, he was right, but for all Hugo's strength, he was as slow to act as the rest. Yet... Hugo had seen many days and fought this battle many times. Doubt began to enter Danaeyl's mind deep in the forest. His rage abated slightly, replaced with confusion, as the words of the Preceptor and the Cleric rang though his head. Falling to his knees, he screamed at the black sky. 'I KNOW NOT WHAT TO DO, please show me...please.' His words echoed throughout the enclosure, but there was no reply; nothing except images of Garshinkle's broken body contrasted with the words of his Brothers and Sisters. There he knelt for much time, till finally through the noise he heard Hugo's voice firm in his head. 'I will not be here forever, Initiate. Think of the future of the Order before you do anything to needlessly endanger thyself.' He thought too of the promise he had made to Augustine just hours ago, and of her poorly concealed fear. Fear of....him. What was he becoming? Hauling himself to his feet, he turned on his heel and slowly began the walk back to the Chapel, his mind wrought with confusion but, worse, his heart wracked with the pain of loss, and the agony of failing a loved one.

But betraying his companions would not bring Garshinkle back from the dead, only satisfy his desperate pang for revenge. He would not abandon the bonds of fellowship forged in the threats to the Order, and bring ruin to it from within. He would swallow his rage and his pain, and wait. He prayed dearly that he did not have to wait long, and that his road was the True one.

[now]

With the Preceptor's...reluctant...approval I sought out the wisdom of our Sisters on my plan to gain insight into undeath. I invited the new Squire so that he might be ingratiated in the Order. I did make my case most forcefully, but Augustine did seem ill at ease, much like the Preceptor.





To what end is such caution to serve? We shalt all be so cautious whilst the favoured children of the Guardian doth grow ever bolder? The time for action is now! I agreed to let Augustine confer with her Sisters as to my intentions, and the manner of my approach. They intend to discuss whether I should go alone, and seemed to suggest they intended to join me.



Though I said I would allow them to confer on this, I will not allow the Sisters to come. The risk of failure is too great, and I will not have their holy souls damnation on my hands.



Despite my impatience, I would not embark on this journey without their Holy blessing. I am sure they will see the truth.





The Squire did seem most concerned with my plan also. Yet another urging of caution! However he learns quickly and I anticipate his trials will begin soon so he can begin exploring his role in the Order as an Initiate.



Likewise, I hath provoked the Preceptor by proclaiming myself ready for my own trials, and hath overstepped most gravely, yet strangely, I care little. Despite my recent insubordination, he could not deny my service to the Church, and with Avatar's guidance I will soon don the garb of the Blackmantle, and set forth to RIGHTEOUSLY perform his DIVINE Will without hindrance.  

I await my Sisters' Holy wisdom.

Dominus illumination mea.

A short response is attached below

The open road doth stimulate much contemplation. Though our own road may wind and cross in such a manner we can not see where it leads, it will always lead us home if we heed His ineffable call.

Welcome home, Brother.

Danaeyl

Avatari,

Thou hath no doubt seen the thorough report by Guardsman Kobra. I have some additional matters of relevance to add.

On our imprisonment of the suspect, who dropped magical and necromantic reagents on the scene,  the Guardsman confiscated and passed on to myself spellbooks of magic, and, more concerningly - necromancy. The creature doth babble and hiss in daemonic tongue. I hath gagged them and Kobra tied them beyond all possibility of escape. I tried to interrogate the thing, but I could sooner draw blood from a stone. I await thy wisdom in this matter.





I would say a few words given the events of last night. The enemies of the light doth seek to intimidate us with the attempted destruction of our home. In their ignorance they see the Chapel as a challenge to be answered, and believe that in attacking us there, they strike a blow at our hearts. To this, I say: fools! The Avatar showeth his divinity in saving all the faithful on that eve from mortal harm. I had to make a choice yestereve between pursuit of the masked perpetrator, and dragging the faithful from the flames. He escaped as a result, but I would make this decision one thousand times again. Faith doth not rest in a building, nor any worldly goods. It is within us, His children, and wherever we go, it radiates forth to reveal the unworthy and beckon in the just. And the just do heed our call. All the world is our chapel, as long as we NEVER relinquish our faith. And we never shall.




Hac virtute regno pax partur.