Journal Entry 11.01 - How to Choose Your Religion

Morvion Enters into the Faith of Letheria

The first time Morvion sneaks out and heads to the 14th tier to look for the ‘opulent house in the middle of the slums’ which Graykar mentioned, he spends most of the night wandering around. He doesn’t want to attract attention by asking for its location, he is content to just wander and look.
With no luck the first night, he heads out again this time in the afternoon and finds a city map maker. Looking over the maps, after paying a small fee to be allowed to do so, he finds a few likely spots, jots them down and then spends the day wandering the town looking for libraries so that he might find more information about Letheria.
He doesn’t find much, just small pieces of information of when agents and priests of Letheria have been discovered in the past. It is often times associated with some vile deed or crime and as such, punishment was rendered accordingly.
He finds a few references to other incidents where the priesthood was discovered yet nothing untoward. In those cases, the stories don’t really tell what the outcome is. Sometimes the worshippers of Letheria just leave, other times the story just seems to be dropped. A few cases appeared as if possibly the priest or follower actually aided the city. Though no recognition or thanks seemed forthcoming.
Over the last several centuries, he finds that the priesthood of Letheria has risen up a few times in the aristocracies of the city almost like a fad of the idle rich. When that has happened, it usually fades from being mentioned after a few months. One case in particular 150 years ago does catch his eye. A high ranking aristocrat, Lady Mranchaya, started a movement to have a temple to Letheria erected in the 3rd Tier on Temple Row. She got enough support to have work start in the city despite regular protests from the common people devoted to the other gods.
The journal entries are sketchy, but before the temple was completed, she was brought up on charges of sedition against one of the Coteries. She was then executed – publicly hanged. The temple project was abandoned for years before a sect of Torya’s priests came in to claim it.
Having found most of what he thinks is readily available without going to one of the other god’s temples and asking to go through their records, he leaves out a few nights later to look for the missing house. The second place he checks bears considerable resemblance to what Graykar described.
Staking it out, he waits several hours into the night. As a long-trained hunter in the jungle, Morvion is used to staying still in one spot for hours on end. He watches and nothing happens, no one comes or goes. The house looks abandoned, however it is also possible that its occupants are just not active this night.
As morning approaches, a single figure approaches the house. It walks up to the door and knocks twice. The door opens and they enter. About five minutes later the same figure leaves, leaving the door wide open. No one ever comes to close the door.
Morvion waits another hour, the door is still open. Curiosity is now getting to him.
Putting the ring of Letheria on his finger, Morvion quietly casts invisibility on himself and sneaks into the house.
Morvion cautiously enters. The house appears abandoned. No furniture. Near the back wall of the first room is a stairwell. Beside it a sliding door to another room with candlelight flickering in the shadows.
Sneaking into that room he sees a table with two candles and several chairs surrounding it. The room is otherwise barren except for an unlit fireplace in the corner.
At the table in one of the chairs is a single figure slumped over, head down in what appears to be a dinner plate with a small soup bowl on it.
Approaching slowly Morvion sees that figure is chained by both legs to the chair. He jostles the figure slightly to wake it up when he notices that the front of the figure is covered in blood. Pulling back her head, he sees her neck has been cut. The bowl has filled up with the blood from her neck.
Investigating carefully so as to not disturb the scene he comes to the conclusion that this woman is human, probably about 50, and quite possibly homeless from the bug bites in her arms and neck. Her hair is unkempt and skin is very weather worn. Outside of the cut neck, no other form of torment is visible. Her body is still warm. She has been killed recently. Probably in the last few hours.
He gently lets her head back down when he sees a small folded paper sticking out from under the edge of the plate.
The note has fresh blood soaked into the edges.
Opening the note he sees a bloody handprint, older dried blood. Under it is a message. "Greetings Night Brother. My mistress is eager to meet you. We have common alignment of goals right now. If you wish to meet, track the blood."
Morvion moves to the corner and breaks invisibility. Walking back to the table, he looks for blood tracks and sees none. The only visible blood is from the slit throat on the woman's front and the blood in the bowl and on the table where she bled out. And of course the dried bloody handprint on the note.
Casting a quick detect magic, he doesn't find anything unusual. Morvion considers, then dips his finger in the blood on the plate. It tastes like normal blood, relatively fresh as it is just starting to firm up.
Morvion then lays the note across the table and sets the tip of Godkiller less than an inch from the handprint. He stares at the print, forming a clear and specific image of it in his mind, then casts locate object. Nothing happens.
Thinking about this, realizing it is a test, he comes to the conclusion he needs to cast blood transcription and drink the blood in the bowl.
Not expecting any results, he is surprised to learn that there is a spell contained in the blood memory of this old lady - a spell called blood track.
He takes the time to go over and transcribe the spell to his spellbook. He is comfortable knowing his friends won't be looking for him for a few days. Once done he memorizes the spell.
Casting the spell, the direction becomes obvious and he heads out. It takes him about two hours to hone in on the proper location. He has now moved up to the third tier, southwestern arc.
This area is residential and old money, the rich live here. Walking around a block a few times, he determines his target is in a large white house surrounded by a large stone wall. Through some of the openings he can see a large manicured lawn surrounding the house. As he watches, he also sees the house is patrolled by several guards leading large vicious looking dogs. Quickly casting detect magic, he determines that there are considerable levels of magical protection about this place also.
He waits and ponders for another hour or so, studying and trying to figure out the best way in. Ultimately, he determines he was invited. Walking up might be the best approach. He then worries about what he knows of Letheria. This may be a one-way trip, should he at least tell someone where he is at?
Deciding to trust the invitation as being legitimate, he walks up to the front gate.
At the gate, two guards watch him warily. Before he can even speak, one of the guards says, “Jungle Elf – from Canton?”
Movion nods.
“We have been waiting for you. Come in, walk straight to the front door. You will be greeted there.”
Quickly entering, he leaves the guards behind and walks the stone path up to the stairs and on up to the front door, a massive iron door painted white. The outer edge has a lavender overtone in color. This could be useful. Morvion pauses, isn’t Dame Imokan’s flag also lavender? This is a disturbing thought he leaves for later.
Knocking on the door, he waits until it opens, and is shocked to see a face he thinks he might recognize. One of the chief bodyguards of Lord Madamus – a nine-foot tall beast which looks like half an ogre and possibly half something demonic from the size of the two horns adding another foot to his height. Morvion begins to rethink his wisdom of not telling anyone where he is at.
He looks down at Morvion and snorts, a slight smile curling his lips. “I see you – I know you little elf. Interesting, and here I thought when we first met months ago I was going to eventually get to kill you. Hmmmm. I was not expecting this.” A nasty smell of sulfur and burnt hair carries on his breath.
Morvion holds is composure and resolutely states, “I was invited. I believe some courtesies are in order.”
The big creature nods and mock bows. “Of course, follow me.” He turns and doesn’t wait for Morvion to follow. They go deeper into the house to a central square staircase which ascends multiple levels. Going up three levels, they start walking down a hallway covered with a deep felt carpet colored red with black geometric patterns and flowers. As they walk down the hallway, the Morvion can feel the floor slightly giving underneath the weight of his guide.
They pass a few doors on the right and end up facing a double door at the end of the hallway. The creature reaches forth, opens the door then steps aside to allow Morvion enter. The room is dark inside, a darkness that Morvion’s eyes can’t penetrate. “She is waiting for you.”
As Morvion walks on by, he feels the large creature lay a hand which is unnaturally warm on his back and he leans over to whisper menacingly, “You know I may have to now call you ally. But forbidden fruit is often the best, so sweet, so succulent, so tasty.” The final word is elongated with a creepy stress on the final syllable. Morvion shudders as he walks on in, his control almost breaking. The door closes behind him and he is now in total darkness. He hears a female voice, “Approach and see.”
Morvion approaches and as he does, the unnatural darkness begins to fade. He can see at first a silhouette and then make out a rough image of the speaker. Her voice is smooth and slightly high pitched with a definite air of command. While he can’t make out her full facial features, he can make out that she is well endowed without being overweight. He also notices that her wardrobe has a fair amount of turquoise in it. Thinking back, he recalls that this might be the house colors of Lord Madamus.
“I have come,” he states, wishing to move the conversation along. He takes another step forward, hoping to get a better view, and that is when he feels a sharp cold enter his legs and arms, followed by the severe pain associated with a cold limb being struck hard. He drops to the ground, the pain quick and sharp enough that the breath stolen from him.
“First lesson, pain is the great teacher. Today, you must learn your place. Our mistress demands respect yet she demands strength. Only the strong may advance in her ranks. We all start as little more than worms. It’s the worm who understands its role that learns to grow and eventually be more than the mud in which it lives.”
Morvion’s eyes start to burn as tears begin welling up, his sight becoming blurry. She approaches, he can’t make out much more of her except she has light colored skin and long wavy brunette hair.
“Second lesson, cold is relentless and eternal. Whereas fire can be swift and destructive,” she reaches down and touches his left arm. A searing flame runs down his arm and he feels the flesh start to peel off in black flacks. “Cold always returns once the fire leaves. Cold never needs more than itself. Fire consumes and then is gone.” She then touches his right arm and it goes completely numb, no pain, nothing. “Which do you prefer, the searing of the fire or the comfort of the cold?”
She stands and walks away, saying as she does so, “Both arms are useless either way. It is just once the pain is gone, the cold remains.”
“The third lesson is not for today. It is a lesson of sensuality. For some, it fills the void left by the cold. For those of the strong, it is recognizing that sensuality and seduction are tools to use on others, never falling prey yourself. Should you indulge, it is because you can, not because you need to.”
“As such, I could relieve your pain. I could offer succor,” she kicks him in the groin, the meaning very clear, “Or I could leave you with the pain.”
“We will meet again if you survive the night. You either succumb to the pain and die tonight, or you master the pain and learn to live with it. Should you survive until the morning – you have one of two choices to make. Leave the ring you found on the table, then forever look behind you wondering what glories could have been yours.”
She pauses, mutters a word and then Morvion finds himself suffocating, unable to breathe. “Or – and listen well, you can seek the power I have and become a holy vessel for our Mistress’s message.” She then waits and watches squirm. Between the spasms of pain, the searing pain in his right arm, and the blackening fog from no air, he finally hears her say another quick word and his breath returns along with a new wave of suffering as his chest expands with air.
“Now, if you do, you seek the path to true life. As you grow, there will be more lessons, some involving horrific pain, some involving great pleasures. You seek a path few ever discover, the true meaning of being alive, the absolute certainty that with all you are, you deserve to be. Should you seek this path, you will find some holy works of our mistress also on the table. The language is hidden in nonsense tales, however wearing the ring will open its words to you. Study, meditate, pray, whatever. Seek out Letheria and she will be waiting. Take the books with you on your upcoming journeys. Just know, from that point if you ever betray the faith, the suffering you feel tonight will be nothing compared to the years of suffering you will experience. One of the cruelest tricks we know is depriving your mind of its ability to retreat into insanity. Pain will be your constant companion.”
“I truly hope you survive the night and seek greater knowledge. Our Mistress has determined a need for you – your hunger for vengeance aligns with her goals. That god you released is but one target she wishes to hone you to destroy.”
With that, the lady turns and walks out of the room. “Don’t think I forgot Morvion about the first lesson – which is still due. I held back merely because I needed to you hear my message.” With that, the lights go dark and all he hears is her whisper ‘Bonebreak’. Suddenly the agony in his body magnifies as every muscle constricts into some of the worse cramps he has ever felt. His back arches up where he is bowed backwards, straining his back as his muscles continue to constrict. Over the next few hours he feels muscles start to tear loose and tendons snap – when that happens it is a relief compared to the cracks he feels in some of his small bones as his muscles pull them in impossible angles before they snap. Several hours later, he feels his back snap as it is finally pulled back so far that can no longer bend.
At some point, he finds a new center, he finds a focus to see through the pain. Though it lasts forever, he finally sees the light of dawn and with that, he has begun to master the pain. As he does, the pain slowly begins to subside. By noon, he has finally come to full grips with the agony. As he sees through each pain, he discovers it is but an illusion. The muscle tears and bones breaking didn’t happen, his arms are not damaged. The only pain he is left with is the bruising where the lady had kicked him in the groin.
Looking around, he is in a dilapidated building. He hears seabirds calling outside and can smell the river close by. He is near the river, several miles south of where the house with the lady was at. Finally standing up, he looks and sees the table with two books on it. Leaving the ring on, he walks up to the books and sees that yes, they are scriptures to Letheria from the few words he can see. He slips the ring off briefly and sees that the words change, the books are now “Tales to delight and Thrill.” Pulp tales common for the unlearned masses.
Picking up the books, he quickly departs. As he gets back to Lord Clemotayse’s mansion, he finds he has been missing for three days. Three days of pain gives him shudders – he knows that the only reason he didn’t lose his sanity is he was protected by the ring. And he can’t begin to imagine what weeks, months, or even years of pain might entail.

Momma begged me please

Yes, she got down on her knees

Said 'You'll burn in that Mississippi sun'

But I'm the only one that's standing here

So Mama don't you have no fear

I’m either last or I've already won

- Taylor Momsen/The Pretty Reckless