Martin's Prayerbook

[Hierophant]

An old thing, stiff for its age and not its make; a series of prayers, letters, notes and logs recorded by Reverend Martin Rosefeldt nestled in a private lockbox within the Maqbara of Ephia's Well he now operates from within.

[Hierophant]

Imperial Year 7789, Qdim 28


ADVENTUS

I have arrived to the fabled city of Ephia's Well, and here I have found few friends thus far but as is my faith's strength, the Church of Kalim and Gamil hold a fair influence within its quarters, and it is there in the Maqbara I begin my work.

They shift their eyes at me, for my admittedly self professed rank of Reverend, for a Reverend serves here already and I am a foreigner without a local name, but perhaps in my publications and sermons I shall denote my work under a more Baz'eeli welcoming pseudonym. I will have to think on that one.

Still, my coming here has brought me closer to the Gods. But will this pilgrimage lead to some thing I had not anticipated? Kalim, hallowed be thou name, I will teach these sons and daughters of Phor and Ephia how one dies well and Gamil, sacred be thou fruit, and steady be thou scales, I shall do so with the prudence and humility as befitting one in desire of Godly honor.

Only one face I know now. An elf by the name of Keth, who has offered to perform some strenuous errands by my side, though there is a ruffian's manner to him that I cannot place right in my conscience. I hope he is only poor, and lacking in a sense of fashion, that is the source of his uncouthness, and not some mirage of the mind, or rot of the heart.

Soon, I must take to the fore, and speak clear and loud my devotion. Perhaps he will visit me soon, pious as I am. A meeting with the Legates will do some good as well, to properly introduce myself into Ephian society. I am far from Baz'eel, and so lack for sponsorship. That will need to change.

[Hierophant]

MIRACULUM

Imperial Year 7789, Qdim 30


He visited me in my dreams, and did beckon my thousand questions upon the folds but I could not see his face, only the specter of a God, a true God.

For if His brother was divine, would law be mocked so in the holiest of holy cities?

Yet he was magnificent. Full of wonder.

They have forgotten how to die in such a way as to honor Him, and already they steal from His domain.

He placed into my hand a bundle of hyssop, and as He waved His mandate, the air began to smell of myrrh and frankincense, and all around him the lost souls of the tarnished land began to dance in celebration for the Martyred Lord had returned to them!

When he parted, lingering ever slowly, as if to catch my gaze in a stupor, I could not look away. I was frozen in place. They followed Him, and reached the Expanse, and I heard the flowing water of the Edutu bashing against the battlements that would be dreadful Qa'im and our righteous army of the Wheel's true, and when I reached for His hand, the Martyr turned to me and took one knee.

It was a gentle touch, and His eyes, hollow and empty and mourning left a great sorrow in my chest, but also a duty; for He then whispered into my ear, 'Return, my son, for there is much work to do and you must be their guide for I cannot be. Live life into death and you will see me again, and you will know your work is done when the White Tree blooms again full of life and vim, and vigor!'

They parted then, and I was left with renewed piety.