Principia Infecta

The Prophet means your ears to bleed, and the pain is that of becoming a Voidman. Give praise, you Voidmen, for there is one more to our number this day! The lesser seals are turned open but a quarter yet; you can be sure of old Cucas, slow as a mother with a babe. Were it the Voidmaster, there'd be blood upon all our faces, and you fallen upon the forgen deck, dancing as the least peasant in high air! There is worse, there is worse!

Eural, what of the great exhortation of the Prophet's Fire in your youth? Ten days of Voidmen and Brothers of the Pitiless Order crushed as though beneath a great load; broken bones, bloody limbs, and every leaf and bough fallen from the trees of the garden-vault!

What of the realm of steam, that all Voidmen of Ementhe saw one and twenty years age - and gave every last hair, shred of skin, and scream besides? The skin grew back, such as you see, but not one hair, not one hair. Voidmaster Arthe of the red realms quested long for the great-shrines of the Anointed Brother Lespeham. Hidden by steam and heat-cloud of the Vennas realm, no man since has set eyes upon these Holies. Nor I, nor the good Voidmaster, the Prophet guide his soul. Strange plants and rivers we saw from the Oculis of Ementhe, but naught of the works of the faithful - the realm of steam is the Prophet's own secret!

And what of Void-battle, charred forgen and Brothers who take the Long Breath to fight beyond the seal-gates? No, but let us not speak of Void-battle this day. Why do we stand when we have left the Void behind us, and the lesser seals are open? To work, Voidmen!

[ Posted by Reason on May 31, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

The Peasant's Factora

Garden of the Prophet > Primaria Technis

The first years of the neonate will pass within the peasant's factora, for no peasant of the Garden may claim mastery over a Technist of the Holy Order. The lowliest neonate will know the ways of ore, prayer and mighty heat; the lowliest neonate will be dutiful as the Lord's artisans in the pour of white-hot peasant's forgen.

The neonate will make pilgrimage to the mines, for the faithful Technist must show vigilance as a Brother of the Holy Order. Let the neonate exhort the wretched and imprisoned to wrest ore and ancient forgen from soil and broken crete; judge well the faith of the neonate by devotion to the hunger of the factora.

Each neonate will learn crafting of prayer boards from trees of the garden decks; let each neonate be flawless in the lesser litanies. Thereby, these least of the Chapel Technis will bring the Prophet's blessing to blazing forgen within the factora. Peasant's forgen is weak without the prayers of the faithful, just as the savages of the Lesser Suns are weak without the Faith; judge well the faith of the neonate with armor and sword against cast forgen.

Only with the perfection of prayer will the faithful neonate ascend to wield mighty great-hammers and factora-knives to shape forgen within the peasant's factora. Judge the craft of the neonate against the best of the Holy Order, and teach well their improvement, for all are wanting in the eyes of the Prophet.

Judge well the neonate at the peasant's factora, for this Holy is the very portal to the Chapel Technis. For the strength of the Holy Order, for the strength of the Faith, only the most diligent and faithful may pass.

[ Posted by Reason on May 30, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Turyth Stands Behind Walls of Forgen

Garden of the Prophet > Red Realms

Brother Hemmen, how fares the Chapel Technis upon Great Olimpan in these past years of holy service? It has been too long since we last stood together, and we of the war-shrine are glad of your presence; much in Turyth lies in need of prayer and diligence by the faithful Technist. The forgen of these fortress walls is old and strong, but forgen protects not against Contagion from the Void or blown on sand-winds from Unhallowed vaults.

Praise be to the Prophet! Preacher Gare will gain no small pleasure to hear you have set and blessed the Prophet's laws in seven of the Outer Spires. He is yet taken to his sickbed with the coughing scourge that afflicts the peasants of the half-desert, and much troubled by his absence. Brother Hura makes the preparations for our evening prayer in his place once more; you will find them well and as you expect.

Your skill and faith have made me late indeed, Brother; in truth I expected you to circle the fortress sunwards. I am charged to guide you by the seal-gates set upon the Least Spire in the years of High Ordained Rusul. We must walk the small-shafts and lesser vaultways through the walls, for there is no other way.

Preacher Gare would have the tale in better words than I, but needs must I speak in his place. May the Prophet guide his return to the duties of the Faith! A siege of Turyth took place when the fortress pledged to Lord Antheba of the Trel realm; a battle of Lords' guard without great-cannon to pierce forgen. A year and a day, the fortress portals stood closed, and years more they might have, but for war-poisons dug from the Unhallowed vaults of the Great Desolation. So it was the walls were brought low by Lord Umbere of the Heythe realm.

I see you recognize the latter portion of the tale, Brother - this is why the Least Spire is sealed yet, and sealed well. None but the leastmost of peasants dwell on the levels beneath and about its walls; the stench of their cess is but warning of where the war-poisons fell.

[ Posted by Reason on May 28, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Heart-vaults of the Frozen Arkta Realm

You of the Arkta realm have proven true to the Faith in your delvings within this ice-buried city of the Unhallowed; the twinned and sealed heart-vaults you have found will be raised and exhorted to the service of the Prophet, great is His name. The prayers of the Chapel Technis will bring the Prophet's Fire to these Holies, and they will serve as do we in the defense of the faithful.

Lord Ense and the Ordained of the Order have proclaimed just reward; this work will meet the worth of your tithe and service for ten years hence. All the Garden will speak well of you, least of the faithful of the chill Arkta realm, and your gift to the Faith. Rejoice, and praise the Prophet for guiding your steps!

Yet listen now, you faithful! We of the Order bring warning as well as the Prophet's blessing. Heed me: delve within the vaults and towers of the Unhallowed and your very souls are at risk! Pity the Unhallowed dead, for they lived before this age of the Prophet; Contagion whispered from the Void and all men turned from rightful ways. The great works of the Unhallowed were thrown down by their own hands, for they tended not to their souls!

My Brothers are vigilant, as must be all the faithful, lest the Garden suffer as did the last of the Unhallowed Age. Contagion still flows in the Void, and its taint echoes yet in Unhallowed vaults - the path of the faithful is to touch not the remains of the past, but to call upon we Brethren to bring the Prophet's Fire to cleanse and hallow. Do not further risk your very souls in these ice-vaults, else Purgen will fall upon you!

[ Posted by Reason on May 27, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Least Festival of the Anointed Tasan

Garden of the Prophet > Libraria Chroniclis

The snow falls deep this second winter after the departure of my Lord and his guards at the call of the Ordained. The great war-cog of his grandsire, mighty Dasu, stands burnished still after all those years, but empty as an Unhallowed tower and without Voidmaster or beating heart-vault. This just as the echoing artisan's vaults and the long-sealed war-shrine in our towered fortress Witan. A single war-barque of the Hateless Order, pennoned with treasured litanies and the scars of long-past Void-battle, carried my Lord and his close-guard away to the lush heart of charred Afrik.

The Rur realm lies now in deep chill beneath white, yet more so on the Least Festival of the Anointed Tasan. The peasants grow accustomed to the emptiness of the upper vaults; they creep like serpents from the frozen lowest levels, and no loyal guard chastens them to their rightful nests. Lowing tachen in their winter coats hide from the valley winds behind garden deck portals and gave poor winter milk. The red-breast corven roost in the lee spires still, just as when the Hateless Preacher Tuth came to Witan for the Least Festival.

Preacher Tuth ran a hundred leagues from the high mountain Cathedral, carried faster than a rider by armor of the Order - and such uproar from the peasantry, for two years it has been since such a Holy of the Faith has come into the valley. The Preacher is faded as the fortunes of the Rur realm; the Prophet's seed has all but left him; his hair is white as that of my Lady's mother, his face is thin as thin. Yet still he exhorted the armor Megane to hold peasant children high in the air as though a giant of a father, and to kneel before my Lady, Magister Albret and patient Wagen of the Prophet's shrine whilst he proffered much-needed blessings upon my Lord's realm of Rur.

Upon the night of his arrival, Preacher Tuth joined my Lady to dine by torchlight in the upper vaults, for all that little worthy fare remains in Witan on the Festival days. This would be the last winter he would bring the words of the Prophet to our Least Festival, the Preacher explained, for his time draws near. The Hateless Brethren called it rightful for Megane, that once carried Preacher Tuth to battle, to be before those faithful of Rur - for he was the Prophet's hand for all, even the least peasant of shaft and low vaultway. My Lady was much affected by his speech, and she would give what Witan does not have to further the holy works of the Order.

[ Posted by Reason on May 26, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Festival of the Tenth Day of Char

On this tenth day of Char, the Festival of the Holy Crusade of the Erope Realm, thanks be to the Prophet for His guiding hand.

Upon the tenth day of Char, the Void-cathedral Yeuve and Brethren of the Hateless Order led the crusading war-processions of the youngest Lords of the Afrik realms. Prophet's Fire carried Yeuve and four dark-pennoned war-cogs far across the Void to the Lesser Suns and the Erope realm, for there a host of half-men rose from beneath great waters to mock and soil the Holies of the Faithful.

Into battle for long years went Lord, close-guard and Brother of the Faith. Voidmen exhorted the heart-vault of mighty Yeuve to give forth Prophet's Fire to boil the great waters to steam. With sword and cannon, with war-poisons of the Chapel Technis, the Faithful enacted Purgen upon the half-men and water-breathers who dared touch the great-shrines of the Erope realm.

Tithe to the Brethren of your Order this Festival day, that their duties become those of all the Faithful. Pray to the Prophet, that His hands will ever shield men from the Faithless.

[ Posted by Reason on May 25, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Garden-vault of the War-cog Reante

Heshrem, you board burnished Reante as one commended by Brother Paress for diligence upon the garden-decks below the Chapel Technis. Do not disappoint his trust, nor mine, for Brother Paress will take it upon his soul should I thrust you through seal-gate and into the Void. This I will do if you fail in your duties, for they are of as great import as the treasured litanies of the Oculists.

We Voidmen honor the Prophet as one; not one of us may fail, not in prayer, faith, nor duty, lest the beating heart of Reante turn upon us with rightful Prophet's Fire - or we are carried far from the faithful to die as nothing in the darkest Void. As Voidmaster, it is my duty to cut my own right hand from my arm should it fail in service to the Prophet. Do you understand me, Heshrem of the garden-decks?

Here, then, is the outermost gate of the garden-vault; mark it well, for I do not expect to see you beyond next we rise to cross the Void. See there, Eural and Tull of Olimpan will be as your magisters within Reante. Bide by them as you would Brother Paress, show them your diligence with all that grows, and they will teach you litanies of the garden and Void-prayer.

Be devout in service of the Prophet, praise to His works, and time will see you a Voidman.

[ Posted by Reason on May 21, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Upon the Fifthmost Great-shrine of Erope

Garden of the Prophet > Beneath the Lesser Suns

May this day of observance find you well Brother Jaren; I see the upper deck suits your temperament, as it does mine. This realm of Erope brings delight anew to climbing the vault-ways and shafts, as you will understand when grey colors your hair. I have wondered what the peasantry of the lowest level of our great Cathedral would think to see the setting of this Lesser Sun over the great waters; to feel the lesser tug of this realm beneath, the thinness of the air. Have you watched the Voidmen leap a full three rods from the war-cog Nesere to the spires of the landfall deck? Truly is the Garden rich with the Prophet's wonders!

It has been a span of many years since last the Faithful came to this Great-shrine; we do the Prophet's work in restoring these vault-works and the Holies within to glory. It is the work of peasants, true, should the Prophet guide us to bring the least of the faithful to Erope, but Rue will soon be over - and then we cross the Void once more. The Void-cathedral Yeuve awaits us beneath the next of the Lesser Suns, and we will stand beside Ordained and Preacher to bring the words of the Prophet to the savage faithless of the Ganamed realm. Sword, long-cannon and armor will not remain idle long upon Nesere, this much I know!

Voidmaster Mafeal will bring us the fruit of the Prophet's litanies on the morrow; his Voidmen rightfully abide by this day of prayer, just as we. I know that it troubles the Brethren to be yet waiting upon the direction of the Desert of Old Holies and Cathedral City across the Void, but in this way do we honor the Prophet. Find the way in the Prophet's seed clenched within your chest, Brother Jaren, and He will hear your evening-prayer.

[ Posted by Reason on May 20, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Least Festival of the Fourth Day of Awe

This fourth day of Awe, the Least Festival of the Cannon-artisan, praise to the Prophet for His blessings upon men.

Great indeed were the faith and renown of Heen, born of Defys upon the border with the chill and desolate red desert. By his twentieth year, the cannon of his hand were sought by Lords of Olimpan, Heythe and Trel. So too came the Orders of the red realms to Heen's modest factora, for the long-cannon of Defys were without flaw, as though touched by the Prophet.

High Technist Sesepha of the Unresting Order came to Defys thrice, carried upon the Prophet's Fire, to gift Heen with passage to the Cathedral high upon Great Olimpan. Each time this was refused by the humble Heen.

In the last of his years, Heen of Defys turned his craft to form the great-cannon of the fortress Eythe, that which straddles the mighty chasm betwixt red half-desert and river-land. The great-cannon Tebse, Unne and Russere he burnished with his two hands; cannon that have faltered not in their duty, a craft to equal the Chapel Technis of the Desert of Old Holies, far across the Void.

Yet the Black Sickness came then upon Eythe, upon Defys, as upon all the red realms. On cries of Heen's death-watch, Ordained of the Unresting Order came with haste from Great Olimpan. In witness of all, Heen of Defys took the oaths of the Order; so was his soul rightfully commended to the Prophet as Technist Heen.

You artisans of the faithful, be humble as Heen in faith and service of the Prophet this fourth day or Awe.

[ Posted by Reason on May 19, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Heresy and Forgen

Garden of the Prophet > Beneath the Lesser Suns

Brothers and Voidmen! I will speak well of your souls in times to come, but quiet, quiet in the Prophet's name!

You have heard speak the Oculist Serre, and the Prophet's blessing upon him for his vigilance within the highest Ocula at the cliffside, else we would sorely lack this warning of heresy. Now we know the fate of Brother Teuren and the neonates sent to treat with these savages: Brothers, in the Prophet's name their souls will be reclaimed from the taint of heresy!

Let these faithless char the bodies of the faithful in their foul factora; let these faithless pour forgen from the blood of our companions; let these faithless believe tread and cannon will shield their worthless lives! They practice the heresies of the Fallen Technist, and have set upon the road to Contagion. They will go no futher, this I swear upon all the Holies! Brothers, our lost will have their place in the Chronicles of the Order - but first we will reave all life from the savages below!

Brothers! The armors yearn for battle, and our long-cannon await in the heart-vault. Let us begin the descent from this high landfall, the better to bring the Prophet's vengence upon these heretics!

[ Posted by Reason on May 18, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Procession of the Seven Thin Vaults

Garden of the Prophet > Libraria Chroniclis

I will relate the first I recall of Aelth and the Unresting Order, for it is of importance to events thereafter.

On the fifteenth day of Awe I was summoned before Lady Mese, favored concubine of my Lord: I learned that Aelth, youngest of the Lord's sons, would bring the Lord's pennon to the Procession of the Seven Thin Vaults. All Rue had we abided within the Outer Spires above the red half-desert, for the chill sand-winds blew strong upon the walls of fortress Turyth, and the Lady Mese would not travel lest the view was pleasing and suitable for nobility. This time of procession had come upon us, and it pleased Aelth and my Lady for him to go forth into the fortress proper.

Upon the twentieth day of Awe, I accompanied the close-guard of my Lord's son through the deep vault-ways of Turyth. My Lord was blessed even then by an even twelve artisans of renown, of craft unmatched in the desolate red realms; thus a youngest son rode atop tread and wheel of hard forgen, with noise enough to hide the sand-wind and cries of guards.

Sand fell above, but unwashed peasants of half-desert and lowest levels still came from every part to make festival of the holy procession that day - a thousand or more, may the Prophet judge their souls. Half sullen in the way of the wretched, half of cheer to see my Lord's guard, they crowded about and above in the vault-works.

But a single Preacher and ten Brothers held the war-shrine at the rift wall of Turyth. This Preacher Gare came down amidst the peasants of the great-vault, a greying man of strength and heat-scars, there to bow rightfully and place the blessings of the Unresting Order upon my Lord's son Aelth. The peasantry he had marshalled with speech most strong, in the manner of the true faithful, to make ready the Lord's Chair in the Seventh Thin Vault. I thought it a wonder to see the lazy peasant so put to work with a will, and in the Prophet's name!

Preacher Gare told the history of Turyth while all was made ready; this holy Procession to honor the Prophet recalled victory over the faithless, brought by the Anointed Brother Ulseph. While battle raged amidst the great-vaults, Brother Ulseph exhorted the armor Lessete to tear a way through the Seven Thin Vaults and put the heretics to flight by fist and righteous fury alone. The Preacher was one to make the tale live and breath as it is told; the close-guard who stood with Aelth that day tell it still in their encampments.

Over fine repast brought from the war-shrine, watched over by Preacher Gare, I watched peasants don strange costumes to play the part of heretics. They held forth amongst themselves, cavorting as animals or pretending base acts, to the great amusement of Aelth and his most trusted companion of the close-guard. For all and thereabout, the small-cannon of the guard stayed ready upon the benches; such was the charge of my Lady Mese, but the Preacher took no offense.

The coming of the Unresting armor was announced by great grinding, as of forgen dragged on stone-ways, and the cries of peasants lining the first Thin Vaults. The peasant mummers stumbled hither and hence, and closer came the great noise. Cloth painted as vault-works billowed as it hung across the second vault-way, then torn away by the fist of the armor Lessete. Five men broad, that vault-way, and the armor went sideways and crouched - and into the Seventh Thin Vault with a leap and great crash of spread arms from vault-work to vault-work abreast, swept above head and pennon!

Aelth behaved as a Lord, while my Lord's close-guard all but fell and ran, save for but one who cast up small-cannon as though to fire before coming to his senses. All the while, Preacher Gare laughed and laughed, until overtaken by coughs and spasms; these, I attended as best I could. This tale, the guard do not tell; it is left for me to tell in their stead.

The Unresting Brother within Lessete exhorted the armor with great craft, making a dance with the peasant mummers; the wretches picked up and shaken, or a play made of smashing them to the very floor. Each footfall shook the Vaults and all within, yet each footfall fell clear of any peasant. All the while, peasants of the procession flowed like sand from the vault-way to crowd, call and cry.

With a darkness come upon the fortress, we dined with the Unresting Brothers; Aelth and his close-guard were as neonates, wide-eyed before a host of the Anointed. These were truly the Prophet's Hand! The youngest Brother, like as not, was just as scarred on the day my Lord took his title as a child. Brother Hura of Relys, who danced with Lessete, was devout in the way of Preacher Gare; a mountain of a man, shorn of head, he spoke well and long of the Order and of service in the name of the Prophet.

The Prophet's seed showed strong in Brother Hura's palm, this his fourth right hand. He pulled aside his vestment so all could see the never-healing scar upon his chest; holy sign that beneath his ribs, Preacher Gare's second right fist clenched strong with faith and the will of the Prophet. This I recall well, for I saw the look in Aelth's eyes, and that which passed between Preacher and Brothers. Men, as women, may talk and agree without speech in their ways, and agreement had been made.

So was much of consequence set to motion.

[ Posted by Reason on May 17, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

The Hopeless Healed and Made Whole

Brothers, armored we are the Prophet's hand! Rise from your long-table, you faithful, for I bring glad tidings for all our Order - another of the Hopeless rises from the Chapel Technis to swell our numbers. Yes, Brothers, the armor Vesi is healed and whole once more, by the grace of the Prophet and the faith of High Technist Redanne! The peasants move Vesi to the Cathedral shafts even now, and soon to our war-shrine.

A day to recall, a day for prayer and festival! Set aside your platters, send word to Preacher Aurent, for we shall honor the Prophet well this day.

Ten Brothers has Vesi carried in the service of the Faith, ten who gave blood and life for the Prophet, praise His name. Ten of the Order we shall remember, ten crypts we shall burnish and hang with pennons - but I recall the last, fifty years and more past though it was, as I stood armored by his side.

Brother Darre of Nomande and Vesi fell in the Purgen of High Andens Hold, pierced and crushed by a great deadfall of severed columns in the mountain vaults. Contagion and its vile tools bring low cunning to the heretic, twisting the heart to cowardice as they turn the soul from the Faith. Peasants of the highest reaches of the Andens thought themselves hidden beyond the Order's sight, the Contagion in their very souls free to speak to the Void and practice the Six Revulsions. We must be ever vigilant in the service of the Prophet!

The heretics were put to the sword and cannon - none lie beyond the Prophet's hand, and we fell upon them in war-barque and burnished armor, Brothers. Their Contagion was yet young, and we called out the glories of the Prophet as we enacted Purgen. So it was ordered by the Ordained, may the Prophet watch over their souls, and so it was done.

Purgen of cannon turned to Purgen of sword and then to a time of Prophet's Fire to char Contagion wherever it could hide. I exhorted the armor Treserre that carries me still to battle, in the name of the Prophet to lift the very vault from its fall - and lo! it was done. I carried forth the fallen from the smoking Hold seal-gates such that their service would be honored. Brothers, I call for a remembrance of Brother Darre, for we stood armored together against Contagion.

[ Posted by Reason on May 13, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Procession of the Nineteenth Day of Rue

On this Nineteenth day of Rue, the Cathedral Bell Procession of Brother Besteban.

The last word of the final processional of the Anointed Brother Basteban was set in ink upon this day. That very night, Brother Basteban's soul was commended to the Prophet, may His Garden prosper in the glory of the Faith.

Upon this holy day, Faithful of the Chapel Technis upon the flanks of Great Olimpan exhorted mighty chains and the Prophet's Fire of their heart-vault to raise the bells Desine and Caras to the Cathedral heights, each larger than a road-shrine of the Faith, two full rods in breadth. Five years of craft and prayer had formed these Holies from ventworks of the fallen Void-fortress Humere, dug from the half-desert plains fifty years prior by the guard of Lord Tumen of the Olimpan realm. For five further years had the Brothers of the Chapel Technis illuminated the children of Humere with the tenets of the Faith and prayers to the Prophet, praise His name.

So it is that Humere, that had carried the Prophet's Fire and the Faithful against Void-dancers, that had fallen in the service of the Faith, now calls the Prophet's voice across the realm.

Listen for the Cathedral bells of your Order this Nineteenth day of Rue, and recite from the Last Processional of Anointed Brother Basteban as you journey to attend your prayer.

[ Posted by Reason on May 12, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Lord Darteme's Heretics

The Oculists make ready to depart for the Chapel Technis of the Cathedral, Voidmaster. I will tell their tale from my place at our long table, with your blessing.

What I am to tell took place in the last years of the High Ordained Mesebar, remembrance to his works. By the command of Lord Darteme of the realm, Voidmaster Jarve of the war-barque Tibene took in six of the hundred Heretics condemned by the Anointed Hasem at Nasrith, on the border of the Desert of Old Holies. Hasem spoke of rightful death by blade and cannon before her return to the Cathedral-vaults beneath the ice-cold Kalask realm, but it was Lord Darteme's will that the Faithless should suffer for so long as they would live. The Prophet has said that the Heretic has no greater pain than to see the works of the Faithful prosper in glory, and the Lord chose his defiance so.

The faithful Voidmen were rightfully angered, but Voidmaster Jarve secured the Heretics by chain upon chain, two to each Ocula, there to gaze upon the Void. Scraps and rotted stores they were given, but only as they performed as a Voidman of the Faith. To you seated here, who have seen savage Faithless beneath the far Lesser Suns, I say a Heretic will do naught but hunger unto death if food depends upon performance of the Litanies of the Oculist. Only the faithful may so honor the Prophet, and thereby protect us from the Void. Tibene rose to the Void on the Prophet's Fire, rose to journey guided by the sight of Heresy but once. Thereafter the faithful Voidmen cleansed remains from the Oculia and returned to the treasured Litanies; the Voidmaster Jarve chose his defiance so.

[ Posted by Reason on May 11, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

The True Heart of Amathe

You ask more than you know; the Void is an unforgiving companion, even for your Brothers who take the Long Breath and walk through seal-gates naked to the stars. It is true, the Ordained have spoken and we Faithful are bound, but the Prophet must be honored if we are to travel the Void unharmed.

Preacher Heneth, you have gazed upon many Holies of the Garden in your life. The great heart of Amathe beats in the center-vault with the Prophet's Fire, to char the heretic and carry the Faithful across the Void. But come, Preacher, I will show you a Holy of the Void, the hidden heart of Amathe here in the Chapel Oculis.

Lo! Praise be to the Prophet, for this Holy is the Mathema of the Voidmaster Barseman. A craft of the First Order Technis, each of its thousand rods and thousand cogs is a prayer for the Faithful. Together they speak the Litanies of the Void.

Preacher Heneth, understand that even this Holy is not the true heart of Amathe. The Mathema remains hidden and quiet, as it has since Voidmaster Barseman placed it within this Ocula so long ago; it is a guide to our Faith, not the means to our prayers.

It is by the will of the Prophet that we exort Amathe to rise and journey the Void that divides the Garden. It is by performance of the treasured Litanies, given by the Prophet, praise be His name, that we are not brought to destruction - or worse, Contagion of our very souls. The Litanies, spoken well, true and flawlessly from the beating hearts of Voidmen pledged to the Faith: these form the true heart of Amathe, and it is in this way we honor the Prophet.

Preacher Heneth, it is in this way your Brothers will cross the Void, or not at all.

[ Posted by Reason on May 10, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Raised Above the Blood of Heresy

Garden of the Prophet > Libraria Chroniclis

By order of the High Ordained, who speak with the Prophet's voice, let the Field of Gerbea nurture the Libraria Chroniclis.

Let Technists come from spired Chapels and peasants from the lowest levels to plant metal in broken crete; let the Faithful raise great and burnished vaults while the blood of Heretics and rightful anger of the Pitiless Order still soaks this most ancient Old Holy of the Cathedral City. Let all the Lords of the Prophet's Garden exhort their chroniclers and bring forth histories of the glory of the Faith.

Let the great Libraria to come stand as warning to those who would waver in soul and body; let it warn that Contagion is death, even upon those who pretend to Faith and hide Heresy under sight of the Ordained. By this shall the Faithless know that even their foul souls - and the unquiet resting of their disarrayed remains - shall support the Holies of the Faith, praise be to the Prophet.

[ Posted by Reason on May 7, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Void-lance of the Neonate Hebsebar

Garden of the Prophet > Primaria Technis

The Cradle of the Hopeless in the factora of the faithful Technist is clear upon the last watch-litany. It is lit by slow-candle of inscribed tachen wax, there to lay the Hopeless for the neonate blessed by the Prophet. For a half-watch of candle flame, the faithful Technist may close his eyes to the Four Duties of the Tutor, and in this way is the beating heart-vault of the Chapel Technis opened to the will of the Prophet.

In the age of the First Order, the neonate Hebsebar was sent a vision of the Prophet and in his sleep passed vault, seal and Brothers of the Order to the holy factora of High Technist Mareb. There lay the Void-lance Horesen, most Hopeless of all Hopeless within the armored Chapel Technis of the First Order Cathedral, charred deep and through in battle against foul Void-dancers. Yet Hebsebar laid his hands upon Horesen, and lo, the Void-lance was healed and whole once more.

Such was the first miracle performed by the Anointed Hebsebar. The Void-lance Horesen has never faltered, not even when charred once more from the armor of Brothers in Void-battle. This is the will of the Prophet, and may the faithful Technist aspire to craft and burnish so blessed of Holies.

[ Posted by Reason on May 6, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Observance on the Thirteenth Day of Char

On this Thirteenth day of Char, Tithe and Service to be given in remembrance of the Anointed Lord Baris and the Crusade of the Prophet's Arm.

On the Thirteenth day of Char, the war-procession of Lord Baris was blessed by the Ordained to set forth and purge the faithless from the Prophet's Arm of Sunset. Long had knaves and outcasts spawned and climbed ever higher in this greatest of Old Holies, league upon league nigh to the very edge of the Void. Sly heretics were ticks upon the outcast, while roving brigands of sword and cannon troubled the faithful in the shadow of the Arm.

Filled with the surity of Faith, the guard of Lord Baris' realm took up banner, spear and cannon small and great in their crusade. Eight years did Lord Baris empty his coffers in the Prophet's name, and eight years did Lord Baris lead his close-guard in holy battle ever higher through vault, stair, shaft and deck in the Prophet's Arm of Sunset. The fallen were many, their names inscribed still upon the craft of Technists of the Mercyless Order.

On the Thirteenth day of Char, the last heretic was thrown to the thin winds that touch the Void and tear at skin, no more to mock and sully the Faithful from on high. The Lord's pennon of a league of ash-cloth was unfurled from the Deck of Ages; war-barques of the Void Fortress Gerest came to carry Lord Baris and his close-guard from the vault of their victory to the Cathedral City of the Prophet - a great journey undertaken in but a single night athwart the Prophet's Fire.

Before the Prophet and High Ordained, Lord Baris became Anointed, and his close-guard the Mercyless Order. So blessed, these Faithful returned to the Prophet's Arm of Sunset and made their Cathedral of the Vault of the Mountain, above the clouds.

Tithe well to your Order this Thirteenth day of Char, for the Garden of the Prophet must ever be guarded against the faithless and the heretic.

[ Posted by Reason on May 5, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Observance on the Fifth Day of Purgen

On this Fifth Day of Purgen, the Holy Festival of Observance for the Transfiguration of the Guiltless Order, praise be to the Prophet.

For two and twenty years the Technists of the Guiltless Order recrafted the mighty heart of the towered Void Cathedral Nalathe, exhorting the Prophet's Fire to every great vault and space of the lowest levels. Brothers gave each and one, from neonate to Ordained, the Prophet's hand and seed in those years to swell the Order in honor of the Faith.

Two centuries passed since Nalathe last settled from the Void on pillars of Prophet's Fire, but the High Ordained charged the Order to raise banners at the very fingertips of the Prophet's Arms, there to guard the faithful against Contagion from the Void. Each Order of the Prophet's Garden, far and near, made gift of a holy quintessen-cannon to the Brothers of the Guiltless, the better to carry their quest.

Yet the Fire of the Prophet found Contagion in the hearts of the Order, for only the pure and holy speak with the Prophet's voice and act with the Prophet's hand. On this day, holy Fire came forth from the heart of Nalathe to cleanse the Order and all around who touched Contagion, making valleys of mountains and clouds of rivers. The greatest of Void Cathedrals became a holy rain of boiling forgen and ash, carrying the will of the Prophet to the lands of twenty Lords.

By the grace of the Prophet so was the Guiltless Order forgiven, purified and transfigured. Praise be to the Prophet and honor to the blessed Ordained on this Festival day.

[ Posted by Reason on May 4, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Contagion in the Valley

Brother, you have heard our long-cannon speak below! You have held your watch where a peasant soldier would run to battle, and that is well. But hark: Preacher Aren spoke with the Prophet's voice in sending us - Contagion, Contagion and heresy come here! The village below has served our Order for a century, and this is how our trust and guidance in the Faith are repaid.

Yes, Brother, it is true! Brother Mathe discovered two devices with the appearance of foul far-talkers or worse, rank with the signs of Contagion. We turned our long-cannon to the dwellings that harbored this heresy - smoking rubble stands there now! There were cries and wails, yes, and more when we piled stone atop the elders until they confessed to have dug this Contagion from the very fields. Lies! They have broken the Prophet's Law in soul for years, and now boldly build the tools of Contagion in the very shadow of our Cathedral. It is just as the Prophet warns, and these wretches will suffer the fate of all heretics, this I vow!

Brother, I will take this watch point. Turn your armor to the war-barque and bring this news to the Voidmaster: the Hateless Order has need of the Prophet's Fire. He will exhort his vessel to rise with strength redoubled, by the blessed Ordained, for there must be naught but char and glass in the valley on the morrow!

[ Posted by Reason on May 3, 2006 | Permanent Link ]

Tenth Finger of the Prophet