EFUPW Forums

INDEX

The Last Days of Man (//%22http://www.escapefromundeath.com/forums/showthread.php?p=280380#post280380%22) ............................................................................................................................. p. 1
The Lesser Catechism of Herostrat (//%22http://www.escapefromundeath.com/forums/showthread.php?p=280392#post280392%22)....................................................................................................... p. 2
The Word of the Three: The Apocalypse of the Apostle Fitzpatrick, excerpts I., II., III. (//%22http://www.escapefromundeath.com/forums/showthread.php?p=280411#post280411%22) .............. p. 3
The Word of the Three: The Apocalypse of the Apostle Fitzpatrick, excerpt IV. (//%22http://www.escapefromundeath.com/forums/showthread.php?p=280412#post280412%22) ......................... p. 4
The Word of the Three: The Apocalypse of the Apostle Fitzpatrick, excerpt V. (//%22http://www.escapefromundeath.com/forums/showthread.php?p=280413#post280413%22) .......................... p. 5
The Word of the Three: The Apocalypse of the Apostle Fitzpatrick, excerpt VI. (//%22http://www.escapefromundeath.com/forums/showthread.php?p=280414#post280414%22) ......................... p. 6
The Conversion of Saint Mororn (//%22http://www.escapefromundeath.com/forums/showthread.php?p=280416#post280416%22) .......................................................................................................... p. 7
Sermones ad Proletarii - Opvs I., "Hold Fast" (//%22http://www.escapefromundeath.com/forums/showthread.php?p=280417#post280417%22) .................................................................................... p. 8
Holy Chalsembyr (//%22http://www.escapefromundeath.com/forums/showthread.php?p=280418#post280418%22) .................................................................................................................................... p. 9
Sermones ad Proletarii - Opvs II., "Have Faith" (//%22http://www.escapefromundeath.com/forums/showthread.php?p=280420#post280420%22) ................................................................................. p. 10
Schismatica: Healing the Rift - Editio I., "On the Names of the Triad" (//%22http://www.escapefromundeath.com/forums/showthread.php?p=280467#post280467%22) ........................................... p. 11

 It shall come to pass,  finally, that the Dreamer’s Breath shall lift and the Great Darkness  shall fall. Not even the sight of the Gods shall penetrate this eternal  night, and they shall not hear the cries of pain, nor the desperate  prayers. It shall be on this day that all shall end, hope flees, there  is nothing but black. In this last hour shall the Fate of Man be  determined by the Children of Man who are of True Faith.

 
LADY SNOW. Be always virtuous, Child of the Unbroken.

VILLAGER. What is virtue?

LS. Virtue is the path that leads us to Paradise. It is the path that we were created to walk. It is the path that brings us closest to the Gods.

There are many virtues. The first of these are: piety, courage, justice and civility.





LADY SNOW. Be always faithful, Child of the Unbroken.

VILLAGER. What is faith?

LS. Faith is the knowledge of the Gods. It is the understanding of Their ways. It is the humility before Their power.

To be faithful to the Three and One, you must know Them: and to know Them is to know each in turn, and together.

[tface='fell']The WORD of the THREE
As recalled by the Acolyte Everard Rothaan


From the Apocalypse of the Apostle Fitzpatrick

1 And when the gates of the underworld did open, forth from them came  the souls of a legion dead. And the remains of their bodies did crawl  forth from the ground.
2 And the black horn was blown, and it called forth the wicked and the  craven and the beastly and they joined the ranks of the undead.
3 And those who resisted the call of the foe became as them, for their  desire turned them wicked, their fear turned them craven, their  isolation turned them beastly.
4 And as the shadow waxed longer, so did the resolve of the remaining  wane. And when their haven came laid bare, did the foe come to their  home and took it.
5 And from the Mist came the prophet they had renounced, and they did call to him, but he did not answer.

---

1 In the wood there was a young hunter. And he did battle with the orcan horde, which also was in the wood.
2 Though the hunter was alone, he found strength in solitude. His works  could not destroy the horde in whole, but kept it at bay.
3 Then came the day that the hunter was struck in the knee by an orcan  arrow. And he could no longer walk other than slowly and with a limp.
4 And the orcan arrow had been covered in rot, which now spread through his body like plague.
5 Thus did the crippled hunter travel to the lands outside the wood, for he could fight the orcan horde no more.
6 And he travelled for three days and a night, and at dawn came upon the high walls of a keep.
7 And the hunter called unto the walls to gain entry to the keep.
8 And the Lord of the keep appeared above the walls, and spoke: 'Thou  shalt not enter mine keep, for if the plague spreads amongst my men, we  shall not be suited to hold off the orcan horde.' And the Lord of the  keep retired to his chambers.
9 But the hunter called again, and again the Lord of the keep appeared  above the walls, and spoke: 'Thou shalt not enter mine keep, for  impurity would threaten my men as much as it does thineself.' And again  the Lord of the keep retired.
10 Then did the hunter call a third time, and again the Lord of the keep  appeared to speak. 'Thou hath called for me three times now, but my  answer remains the same. Begone, for my sentry shall launch an arrow on  thee.'
11 But the hunter did not heed the Lord's warning, and when he called  another time, an arrow struck the ground scarcely a yard away.
12 And the hunter departed from the keep to travel further. And he  followed the road, and by noon he reached a hamlet by the wood.
13 And the gate in the palisade was open, and the hunter entered the hamlet.
14 The people of the hamlet did welcome him, for this was the hunter who  had kept the orcan horde at bay for so long, and they wished to repay  him by showing him hospitality.
15 And the hunter lived calmly in the hamlet for many days.
16 Then the people of the hamlet did hear the wardrums in the woods, and they knew the orcan horde would come.
17 And they called the levy and closed the gate, but found that their  weak palisade could not stand against the onslaught of the orc.
18 And the orcs overran the gate, and the levy could not fight them, for  their bodies had been weakened by the plague brought by the hunter.
19 And when the village had been plundered and burned, and the women  raped, and the children slaughtered, did the remaining villagers drag  forth the hunter, who they thought to be the cause of their demise.
20 And the hunter was cast in the pyre which had been raised to burn the  dead, and his screams filled the silence of the coming night.

---

1 Is it not the peasant who tends the crop? His body he gives to the land, and from his labours the masses feed.
2 Is it not the soldier who fights the wicked? His body he gives to the sword, and from his labours the masses draw safety.
3 When the soldier tends the land, the crop does not grow. When the peasant fights the wicked, they are not kept at bay.
4 Thus the soldier practices humility, for without the peasant he could not feed.
5 Thus the peasant eschews ambition, for as a soldier he could not live.
6 As a father governs his children, so does the Unbroken govern the fate  of man. Embrace fate and find the love of the Three.[/tface]

[tface='fell']1 Upon the walls of the city there stood a watcher.
2 And the watcher knew his duty, for it was to stand upon the walls and watch.
3 And the watcher performed his duty, and he kept watch for signs of the enemy, but they did not come.
4 But the watcher remained steadfast, and he performed his duty every day for many moons.
5 And within the city there came a rebellion. But the watcher did not know, for he watched only outward.
6 And when the rebellion had ended, and many men of the city had died, did the watcher end his duty.
7 And he came unto the barrack and said: 'Lo, have I not done mine duty?'
8 And the lord of the city knew him not, for he had fought with all the  guard in the rebellion, but not this man. So he asked: 'What is thine  duty?'
9 And the watcher said what his duty was.
10 And the lord of the city scolded him, for the watcher had not even  seen the rebellion, but he did not strike, for he knew the watcher had  done his duty.
11 And though all wished to punish the watcher, they knew they could  not, for to punish a man who performs his duty was against the tenets of  the city.
12 And the watcher was cast forth from the guards and a lesser man made to take his place, and he was humiliated.[/tface]

[tface='fell']1 There were two fishermen. And they both cast their nets in the sea from the shore to catch fish.
2 One of the fishermen knew that when the tide was high, he could catch many fish, but far fewer when the tide was low.
3 So when the tide went out, that fisher went home, to return when the tide would rise again, and he could catch many fish.
4 And he came upon the second fisherman, who cast out his net in the  receding tide, and it came up nearly empty. And the first called him a  fool, for this was a poor time to fish.
5 But the second fisherman ignored him, and threw out his net again.
6 Later, when the first fisherman returned as the tide came in, he saw  that the other fisherman had caught few fish in his absence. And he  thought himself better, for he would ever draw up more fish in the time  to come.
7 And this happened again as the tide once more shifted, and as it shifted a third time.
8 And the first fisherman knew he was the greater fisherman, for not once had he drawn up a net that was not full.
9 And when the day was at an end, he came unto the second fisherman to  boast of his success. But the second fisherman only shrugged, and opened  his barrel.
10 And the first fisherman saw that the second fisherman had caught many  more fish than him, for though few fish had been caught while he  rested, they were always more than nothing.
11 And he knew that for all his knowledge of the tides, he would never  catch more fish than the dilligent fisherman who stood in the surf all  day.[/tface]

[tface='fell']1 He who prays to the Three and One, prays to the Three and One.
2 He who prays to but one of them, prays to the Three and One.
3 He proceeds by calling the Dreamer, for as He is the bearer of the Word, so is He the bearer of prayer.
4 First, his prayer comes before the Risen. As a newborn child, it must  prove itself worthy amongst its peers before given countenance.
5 Second, his prayer comes before the Dead. Given countenance, it must survive greatest scrutiny before being ready to pass on.
6 Third, his prayer comes before the Unbroken. There it arrives being judged, and there it stays to be heard.
7 By these words, know the Divine Cycle that is the Three and One, and by knowing it, know thy destiny, pilgrim.[/tface]

(http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/41/conversionofmororn.jpg)
   
  And so it was that Saint  Mororn passed. For his heresies against the True Faith he found only  unspeakable torments. But the Gods of Men are not without mercy. From  the grave he was summoned, and upon bare feet he did walk to the Lake   of Mist, compelled by the word of the Three. As he waded into the sacred  waters, above the lake in the swirling Mists a robed figure appeared  and spoke unto him.      

“I am they who are the Three, they who are the Gods of Man. You have lived a false life, a life of sin.”      

Upon hearing these words Saint Mororn knew them to be true, despair  filled him. “It is true, I have seen my error and what awaits. I see I  have been false, and it fills me with great sorrow. I see that there is  only the Three, the Gods of Man. I repent and ask forgiveness for my  sins.”      

The figure of the Three offered a hand to the old priest. “We see in  your heart that you speak true. You have done good works in your life,  and it is only just that we accept you into our embrace. In death you  will join the side of the Unbroken. You will know our mercy.”

Gladdened, the old priest took the hand of the Three and was led into the depths of the Lake  of Mist.

This is the Word of the Three.

 

Come, ye sons and daughters of Mistlocke, and hear me for my words; 'tis to you I speak this day.

Ye who till the earth, who tend the crops; ye who grind the grain, who   mend the fences; ye who skin the fox, who crush the grape, who lead the   mule.

I come before you humble, a servant of Chalsembyr, this our Ymph; for   thirteen years I have been upon this Isle; since longer ago, had it been   up to me; and for longer yet if it please the Gods.

Yes, there be adventurers among you, but 'tis not for them I speak. Let   them listen; let them move among you, passing like the transient  shadows  of a Marpenoth day, like ghosts; they come and they go, they  shout and  they die, leaving little behind.

My words are for you, villagers, for your ears aren't going anywhere:   they have been pressed to this holy land for years, for decades, for   centuries. I am speaking to those who remember a time before Ordio   Quilby, before the deluge of outsiders; those who are busy only with   their day-to-day business; much too busy to listen to agitations of   feverish foreigners, or to sign petitions for protecting the latest   breed of monster to make its appearance in your hamlet.

For while the adventurers and their elected representatives debate the   virtues of Orcbloods, life and trade goes on for Mistlocke; as it has   gone on since long before the adventurers came, and as it will long   after they are gone.

Villagers, verily, this is all I have come to tell you: the Numinous Order is for you. Not for them -- for you.

For twenty, seven hundred, and one thousand years, we have been the guardians of this land and the protectors of its people.

We have asked nothing in return; for we do not want anything in return.   This is not a service we perform for payment, reward, or even  gratitude.

It is our duty.

It was our duty then, it is our duty now, and it will always be our duty   to protect the people of Chalsembyr from the evils that threaten it   constantly.

Throughout the ages, when darkness has threatened, the Order has done   its duty; this was the case with the Grimjaw, this was the case with Red   Eleint, and it is the case now.

While adventurers, slavers and Amnish merchants gallavanted across the   Isles, care-free; while pagan tribalists and druidic witchers spun their   plots against the livelyhoods of decent folk, without restraint --   then, the Order Numinous, and the Order alone, foresaw the unleashing of   the Maiden. And we warned the people of the Archipelago that this was   to come to pass. And it did come to pass.

Since the Accursed Hammer Twenty-Third, the Men of the Three have been   in furious, relentless war with Undeath. The Siege of Castle Blackhearth   now enters its fourth year. Morning, day, and night, the Knights and   their Footmen fight, bleed and die upon the Castle's ramparts. Fight,   bleed, and die. And by this constant cycle of silent sacrifice, year in   and year out, the Maiden is halted in her designs; unable to tear   herself away from the Castle; unable to overrun the Unyielding Pass;   unable to corrupt the rest of Ymph; unable to come here.

On each morning and every morning, each day and every day, each night   and every night, the Order has fought the Maiden; the Maiden has fought   back; we have stood fast. Because it is our duty to stand fast.

We still hold fast, true people of Mistlocke, and so must you. And you must never forget that the Order is for you.

The tide will turn; the darkness perish; dawn will break; victory will   be won; peace will return. The Witch will fly before the Order; and   before the might of the Three and One, evil itself will shrink and die.

Have faith, Mistlocke; hold fast. Believe us for our honour; and have respect to our honour, that you may believe.

For your village is a battle-ground, no less than the Plains of   Agramant; and you are a front line, no less than the soldiers of Castle   Blackhearth; courage is your shield, faith your armor, the reaping   scythe is your weapon, the mule-cart your chariot, the windmill your   war-engine.

Hold fast, Mistlocke! For the End is begun; but the End is not yet. And   the Order is with you. The Order is for you. The Order's duty is to   protect you.

So we always have. So we always shall. So will we do, if you will let us.

Villagers, let the call be heard: the Order offers you to come to the   Priory whenever you will, if you are in need; you will not be turned   away. Need you a bed for the night, you shall have it. Need you food for   a day, you shall have it. Need you work, it shall be offered. Need you   spiritual nourishment, you shall have it; pity, sympathy, joy, hope,   purpose, guidance, you shall have it; blessings, you shall have them.

Need you help, need you our arms, need you our Gods, by my troth, you   shall have them. For the Order is for you. And we shall not forsake you,   even as these adventurers come and go, rush to and fro, invite   Orcbloods into your homes, cannibals unto your doorstep, necromancers,   demonists, ghosts, rampaging spider monsters -- even as the adventurers   play these little games and have their amusements, WE shall be with  you,  we shall protect you, we shall do our duty.

As you have held fast through the ages, Mistlocke, for a little while longer, hold fast! For the End is in sight.

When I first came to Chalsembyr, a young child, I was taken to the   Prophet's Peak. 'Tis there, among the sages and warrior-poets, I came of   age. In the Temple of the Order, I saw many strange and wondrous   things; studied many a dizzying revelation; many dark truths did I   learn.

But there was one thing, among all things, that became most dear to me;   one thing that entered my young mind to stay there for the rest of my   days; it was a verse, first recorded before recorded time, first spoken   even earlier still; scribed by a prophet a thousand times older and a   thousand more eloquent than myself; and I shall never forget it. In it,   you will find the only words needed in our common struggle. And it  shall  be the hymn of our crusade. I shall let those words be the end of  my  own.

[INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]Hold fast to the law
of the last cold tome
Where the earth of the truth
lies thick on the page,
And the loam of the faith in the ink,
long fled from the drone of the nib,
flows on.

Through the breath of the bone reborn
In a dawn of doom where blooms

The rose, for the winds
The Child, for the tomb
The thrush, for the hush of song,
The corn, for the scythe
And the thorn in wait, for the heart.

Till the last of the first depart
And the least of the past is dust
And the dust is lost.

Hold fast![/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT]

So it came to be that the Risen  rose from the Lake of Mist, sword in hand and clad in gleaming mail.  The Heavens cried out in joy as the Life of Man had begun.

And so we stand upon the holy land of Chalsembyr, birthplace of Man,  seat of the Three. Harken close, the Truth can be heard upon the very  Mists for those with the ears to hear. For it is Chalsembyr that is the  beginning and the end, and all those who open their hearts shall be  blessed, whilst those who avert their eyes and close their ears shall  remain blind.

It is as it was and ever shall be, until the End of Days.

 

The Pass has fallen. What was named Unyielding has yielded.

Men have stood on this stage before you -- you may remember -- and said, "I laugh at Apocalypse!"

Are they still laughing? -- The men and women of Mistlocke are certainly not.

Men have stood on this stage before you and said, "Do we not have our refuge?"

Is that still their question? -- The men and women of Mistlocke already know the answer.

The Unyielding Pass has fallen to the Lich; she may now go where she wills; the hour of the midnight of Ymph is at hand.

People    of Mistlocke, I am not here to insult your intelligence and your    credulity by claiming we are about to defeat the Witch at any moment. We    are not.

I often hear the question, "How will the Order defeat H'Bala?" -- There is no answer to that question.

For nearly four years, the Order has battled H'Bala at Castle    Blackhearth. But without help from the rest of the Isle, without    reinforcements, without food with which to feed its warriors, it is no    longer possible for the Castle to single-handedly keep the Maiden in    check.

Villagers, the situation has never been more dire. But I am not here to    frighten you. On the contrary, I am here to bring you a message of   hope.

For it was hope that allowed the residents of Nebedzzos to hold out    until the very end; hope enabled by faith. They did not throw themselves    off the Ziggurat in despair; they fought, they held fast, they clung,    and in the end, they huddled together -- for there was nothing else   they  could do. And ultimately their hope proved justified, their faith    proved victorious, and they lived.

It is nothing but faith that has allowed Castle Blackhearth to hold out    for as long as it has. The faith of its defenders in the ultimate    victory, their knowledge that their fighting and their sacrifice is not    in vain, that every minute they can buy for Ymph by paying with their    own blood matters, is valuable -- that is what keeps them going.

But I tell you truly, villagers of Mistlocke: there are no walls that    can ultimately withstand the plague of Undeath. Not the walls of Castle    Blackhearth, and certainly not the broken walls of Mistlocke.

There is no bastion that will hold forever, save for one -- the bastion    of faith. There is safety only within that mighty fortress, whose name    is Faith, and Unity.

As the survivors of Nebedzzos huddled together, so we too will be forced    to huddle in the end -- yet our faith shall not abandon us, nor shall    it let us down.

Villagers, you have every right to be afraid, upset, desperate; to    demand answers and responsibility from those who bear arms. A common man    of Mistlocke only last night spoke to me in anger, as many of you did    see: he demanded to know what the Order would do; and the answer is:    everything we can.

But the answer did not satisfy him; and he went on to say that the Order is all talk.

Yes, the Order has spoken. For over one and a half thousand years, the    Order has pointed to what was to come; has foretold the End; has warned    of the signs. We warned of the release H'Bala, we warned of the    imminence of the End, we warned of the darkness that was to fall. It is    true that this is a message we have repeated, repeated and yet again    repeated.

Maybe, people of Mistlocke, it is time you began to listen to that message, and to take it seriously.

For while Varad Zapolya laughs, and while the same Druids who once    released H'Bala now exult in their "victory" at Wyldwater, saying that    the Withering has "halted", the Unyielding Pass falls, the Witch    advances, and threatens to choke the last life out of the Isle once and    for all. The Maiden is mistress of Ymph, and the doom of the world is   at  hand.

It is impossible to share in the Chieftain's laughter. It is impossible    to share in the Fury's pride. All that is possible now is to grit our    teeth, dig our trenches, hearken to the Prophecy and have faith.

This is the simple and awful truth which grows more apparent with each passing day:

The End is coming. It is coming closer. And it will come far closer    still before it can be defeated. But, brothers and sisters, it WILL be    defeated. It WILL be turned away.

Who denies this?

It will be so. And only through faith will it be so.

Yes, we shall spend all our time devising new ways to strike at H'Bala,    showing both raw defiance and refined strategy; yes, we shall make  many   attacks upon the Maiden's forces; but she will not be defeated   tomorrow,  or the day after tomorrow. There will be many attacks, but   many attacks  will fail, and many will die. Let no-one deny this. Let   no-one be a  fool.

Ultimately we cannot put our trust to such attacks, such mercurial    successes as we may achieve, for our enemy is not of this world; she is    without hesitation, without remorse and without limit.

Ultimately only faith will see us through this valley of darkness.

When I spoke to you a few days ago, villagers, my message to you was    this: hold fast. I wanted to prepare you for precisely what is now    happening -- the fading of the light. I urged you to hold fast; you must    continue to do so, and today I lay upon you a new exhortation: have faith.

Have faith in the Three and One. Have faith in the Lord Commander.    The Castle has stood for many years; we here in Mistlocke have yet to    face a single day of siege. Our troubles have not yet truly begun; but    they soon will; and yet we shall hold fast. Do not despair. Find hope;    take heart.

My Sister, Donatienne, once a street orphan under the yoke of Old Port,    whose highest dream was once to find her meal for the day, today    willingly starves herself, while feeding this village's poor with bread.    This transformation of a craven child into a virtuous woman was   wrought  by faith; and such faith shall bring a thousand such   transformations,  here in Mistlocke and across the Isle; and through   such acts of kindness  and generosity shall life under siege, life under   plague, life under  war, ultimately remain bearable.

In faith, and in unity, we shall survive, and we shall thrive, until the    End of the End, and our finest hour comes; and then we shall all,    high and low, common and uncommon, take up arms together against the    universal darkness.

For those of you who are strong enough to fight, the Order bids you take  up arms under the Dragon Banner. For those of you who are not,  the   Order invites you to pray before its altars.

Your question should not be what these capricious adventurers can do for you; but rather, ask what you can do for Ymph.

The Order shall answer with one voice which rings throughout the aeons of history and across the dark waves of the Archipelago:

Have faith!

Schismatica: Healing the Rift, editio I.
On the Names of the Triad: "Helm", "Ilmater", "Torm", "Tyr".


There has been much confusion stemming from the  usage of the names by which the Mainlanders refer to the Three and One,  the Risen, the Unbroken, the Dead and the Dreamer; "Torm", "Tyr",  "Ilmater" and "Helm" respectively.

The earliest occurrence of these names in extant Faerûnian literature  can be found some five centuries ago, though there is reason to believe  they were in use a few centuries earlier still. Regardless, the age of  these records do not compare to those of the Numinous Order, which date  back nearly two thousand years.

Even so, many ask themselves: given the history of the Three and One,  what is the origin of these names, and why do the Mainlanders use them  instead?

The answer may be found in the Apocryphon of St Athalwolf, in which we  first come upon the Hendiatris, the earliest instance of a sacred Order  litany, recorded in both its missal and its esoteric forms.

This ancient verse, of such central importance to the first generations  of the Votarist brotherhood, in long-form was as follows:


   The Apocryphon indicates that the Hendiatris, like other early Votarist  liturgical expression, was a "silent litany"; in other words, it was  frequently written, engraved, inscribed and used textually as  consecration, but rarely or ever spoken.

Partly for this reason, and partly for esoteric reasons -- to  protect the sacred verse and to keep it from falling into the wrong  hands -- the early Votarist mystics, when chanting the litany, in order  to induce in themselves a state of communion with the Dreamer, would  convert the Hendiatris to short-form by reducing it to its initials, and  render them in the mystic syllables of the sacred Order tongue.

Thus the litany became:


  The  final four of these syllables, representing the third and holiest  clause of the verse's tricolon, were considered the most sacred. Later  their sequence would be incorporated into other prayers, and considered a  holy phrase in their own right -- the Tetragrammaton -- representing in  their entirety the Three and One Themselves.

Although there are four syllables, there is no evidence that any one  syllable represented any particular aspect of the Three and One; indeed,  such an idea would be alien to the early Votarists, as it indeed it  remains alien today, given the consubstantiality of the Three. None the  less that idea later became accepted and integral to the faith of the  schismatics once their own division occurred.

By the time the great schism culminated in the departure of the  heterodox from Chalsembyr and their resettlement in the Mainland, the  Hendiatris had largely been supplanted by the Tetragrammaton; and this only in its mystic short-hand formula, the original litany having been forgotten or neglected.

On the Mainland, the Tetragrammaton remained the oldest and holiest  expression of the divinity of the One and Three Gods. Ironically, though  it should have reminded them of Their unity, the schismatic faith soon  splintered in turn, growing apart into the four distinct heresies of  today. At that point, the heterodox, regardless of which sect they  belonged to, seemed to be in agreement that each syllable represented  one God, and which of these was which.

The distortion of the Tetragrammaton, its origins and true meaning  forgotten, resulted in the names by which the Mainlanders know our Gods  today: the Risen worshiped as "Torm" (Tor), the Unbroken as "Tyr"  (Tyr), the Dead as "Ilmater" (Ilm), and the Dreamer as "Helm" (Hel).

[Fresh copies of the Codex Tremarus, containing updates and amendments, are once again distributed to Mistlocke's commoners, and anyone else who asks for it; and new pages are pasted into existing books.]