Painted Glass and Ancient Stone

The Abbey of Painted Glass  is a sight to behold. If Redehall City is the seat of power in Banteave, the Abbey is the resplendent jewel which adorns this crown. Constructed over the course of three decades, King Gilas I imagined the ambitious project to be a reminder of his benevolence and generosity. Erected on the site of the first shrine of the Six Saints constructed in 935 by the First King Alaric Bantevar, the creation of the towering spires and grand arches of this opulent house of worship ultimately proved to be beyond the reach of a single man.   The commonfolk of Banteave shed no tears when the reign of King Solmi was cut short by the machinations of House Heawick. A coward and weak ruler, the shift in power was almost universally lauded as a welcome change. Despite this, King Gilas I desired to ensure that he would be remembered as a well-loved and benevolent ruler. No expense was spared in the conception, drafting and funding of the grand Abbey. King Gilas I demanded that only the finest materials were used in its construction, and assembled the most gifted masons, artisans and builders from all corners of Banteave. Construction of the Abbey of Painted Glass began in 1024, though it would not be known by this name until much later. Tragically, King Gilas I would not live to see the completion of his legacy.
King Gilas II was every bit his father’s son in many regards, though his ambition and drive to carve his legacy into the annals of history outstripped even that of his late father. Upon taking the throne, Gilas II wasted no time and quickly began several campaigns to extend the reach of his rule and consolidate power. The subjugation of the Barony of Estos  in 1043, proved to be far easier than that of their southern neighbours however. The Subjugation of the Gannetfolk would prove to be a costly endeavour. Before the eventual end of the conflict in 1044, Redehall would see its coffers taxed and armies depleted by the long, drawn out conflict. A third, less obvious price would be the eventual impetus for the addition of the eponymous painted glass windows to King Gilas II’s inherited legacy.
During the campaign against the stubborn Gannetfolk, several key events gave Gilas II cause for some concern. Though he would never admit to it publicly, the 1043 Shattering at Siarque as well as tales of The Poisoned Catch gave rise to whispered doubts and what Gilas II’s advisors warned him was surely a dangerous decay of faith in the Six Saints. Whether these warnings stemmed from truth or fiction, King Gilas II decided that the commissioning of the now famous stained glasswork at the Abbey of Painted Glass would serve as a reminder of the true Gods of the realm, The Six Saints .
Excerpt from the writings of Svala Styrrsdotr, esteemed Artisan of the Sixth House: A worn parchment, fading and tattered from repeated handling, hiding and the passage of time, a letter addressed to Svala’s brother: Erra Styrrson

Erra, our family is falling apart. Grandfather Alfregg’s death was always going to be difficult, and his prolonged suffering these past weeks has been… a source of friction. Father and Mother aren’t speaking to one another. He left today, muttering to himself about heresy and witchcraft. Mother is packing her things, she says she will pray for ‘that pig headed fool’ and make her oath upon the timeworn stones of Crag Ayl . I tried to reason with Father, but he’s never been one to listen to his daughter. He said he would tell the other nobles that mother has taken ill, and will not be able to attend the ceremonies. If the light of the Six were half as bright as he claims, he’d long since have gone blind.
Perhaps he has already.
I couldn’t stomach the idea of travelling all the way to Redehall with him, and will make my own way there soon. I’d sooner have joined Mother in prayer at Crag Ayl, but that wouldn’t be very fitting for me to miss out on the adulations and praise for my faithful service to the Crown King. The windows are beautiful, Erra. I wish you could have seen them before they were installed, hoisted up to the roof of the Abbey, casting rainbows onto the crowd gathered to watch. If I grovelled before the Six as father does, I'm sure it would have been quite the spiritual experience. Fear not, I played the part as well as any child of the faithful Sixth House of Banteave is expected, though I cannot deny the satisfaction I feel in seeing The Red Sisters forever ensconced in the very heart of Banteave. Our ancestors were clever to hedge their bets. Resisting the Church of the Six Saints would have been folly, just as abandoning our faith in the sisters entirely. We worship now in secret, paying lip service to the Six, until the time for our retribution comes. They’re going to call it ‘The Abbey of Painted Glass’. A bit on the nose if you ask me, but… of course I wasn’t asked.
When you return to Redehall, look up. My work is immaculate, if I do say so. At the feet of each of the Six, tangled and hidden in plain sight amongst the leaden calmes of my panels, the eyes of the Red sisters will now forever watch, bearing witness to all that happens in the Light of the Six. Six runes, six eyes, three sleeping sisters.

Warp and weft ensconce you. With love, Svala.

Written by Geoff S.