The Opened World

Into the Fray

From the Journal of Jerys

The Zoarch Scourge seems ever-present. They beset me on all sides. I can see their mark in the ashes and ruble of ruined cities, in the pools of blood left behind by raids and incursions, and in the latent fear hiding behind the eyes of all who hear tales of the Scourge’s expansion.

They are filth.

They are abominations.

They are blasphemy made flesh.

I thank Tehsh that I never tire of being an instrument of their destruction. And I pray that others see the need for their eradication as urgently as I.

A useless old Alathan priest handed me a parchment this morning. He said they were circulating around Imperial and Council lands. The immensity of its heresy was infuriating. It spoke of freedom, destiny, and openness; but to those who have eyes to see, it was obvious that all it actually championed was the open spread of more Zoarch foulness. Worst of all, that same Alathan priest – the highest of his order – barely looked sickened by the words on the parchment. He almost seemed persuaded by its arguments; enticed even. How dare such a man function in such a high calling? This struggle with the Zoarchs may prove more difficult than expected, especially if my order cannot even count on its “holy ones” to fight like the zealots we are commanded to be.

I am, however, encouraged by the members of my new adventuring charter. They, of all people, seem to see the Filth and the Scourge for what they truly are. They understand the Octopodi and the Homunculi to be idolatrous vermin. Thank Tehsh that they can see the truth of things. We hence will be known as the Holy Few, and it is an apt name at that. Together we will rid this world of all blasphemy.

At first light we will head into the ruins of the mountain to seek out our enemies; and there will our long battle for purity, righteousness, and orthodoxy begin. May the Zoarchs feel our holy wrath. Soon will be the hour of their judgment. But now it is time for meditation, reflection, the study of the scriptures, and holy rest. My strength is sapped from a tavern skirmish with two drunken elementalists from Ir Alatha.

Tehsh, be with me in my rest, in my waking, and in my combat. You are forever hallowed; thanks be to you, giver of life, grower of all, sustainer of everything.



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