When last we left, we found that Eddward had been flayed alive by literally Satan because he broke his oath to not use or learn arcane magic. I found a book, Felicia and Kon had a discussion before he started tripping balls and Fester helped Anatole commit dead people crimes.
We bed down for the night in the Undercroft. In the morning Kon finds Felicia eating breakfast.
“Good morning.”
“Did you sleep well?” He asks.
“Yes, the beds here are remarkably comfortable.”
“Good to hear.” Kon leaves her and gets food and has small talk.
Turns out there are more priests here than just our High Pontiff and Eddward. Deadward, unfortunately, is now dead and everyone definitely knows that he’s dead.
“So… were the events of last night… uncommon?” I ask, as I enter the breakfast hall, taking in note of everyone’s sadness.
“Yes, very.”
“Ah. And are all of the gods as… lively as Lord Asmodeus?”
“Yes and no. Asmodeus alone among the gods possesses unbridled power.”
“Unbridled power and he chose to flay someone? Is that normal as a punishment?” I ask the room.
Anatole chimes in, “Well, he was nailed to the wall with infernal nails and-“ he proceeds to tell us about
“I’ve never seen this. So…”
“In living memory, no one has ever seen this. But then again, no one has been foolish enough to break an oath to Asmodeus, let alone one of his clergy.” Pontiff Aethelhard says.
“Does that mean in recorded history, there are people who have broken oaths to other gods?” I ask.
“Oh yes, very much so. You see, if you worship one of the Gods, any of the Gods, the highest form of failure is to take part in one of their anathemas. They have various power and access to our plane, which is why we fear them and give them praise, so that they may forego smiting us all. But Asmodeus has more power than most combined. The others each wish they could muster even a portion of Asmodeus’ strength.”
“I know I should be scared, but then you were able to heal both Felicia and Fester… surely worship has value.”
“All worship has value. But there is always a price.”
Kon asks him how old he is, as he looks old and decrepit. “I am 28 years old.”
I ask him what the price was for healing Fester and Felicia and he says none yet, as he is afforded certain abilities for his station. It is also not common for humans to look how Aethelhard looks at 28. I sense motive to see if he’s having us on. The group follows suit for the memes.
Anatole chimes in, “Fascinating… is it your profession that has lead to your… complexion?”
“Yes, it is quite common for Pontiffs to age very rapidly. It is the price we pay for spreading our worship amongst all the gods. Most would only give worship to one, and some would become, as you’ve said, become fucked up. It also depends on the god as well.”
“How long have you been a pontiff?” Kon asks.
Aethelhard has been a High Pontiff for 2 years and became a pontiff at 19. Rapid pontiff aging seems to begin once they take their oaths.
“Is it just aesthetic, or is there internal breakdown?” Anatole asks the poor man.
“Oh, no I am quite frail. My body has aged rapidly over these last 10 years as a pontiff. It substantially increases once one becomes a High Pontiff as well.”
“Your lifespan must be significantly shortened…”
“Most pontiffs are lucky to survive 15 years from their oath.”
…
“But it depends on the needs of the flock though. If I can avoid calling on Zon-Kuthon, it will not cost me my lifespan.”
“Why Zon-Kuthon specifically?”
“He is loss, and pain. First among the orders, most others demand suffering of others, where Zon-Kuthon demands the suffering of self.”
“Terribly fascinating.”
“Yes it is a mix you see, as one suffers under Zon-Kuthon’s rule, Sorrow’s Sword strengthens us, allowing us to call forth greater power. Seizing any opportunity that grants us power, we take it, and are granted more from other gods, the cycle continues until we collapse underneath it. But… without us, there is no barrier between the World and the Gods.
I ask about the books because I read through them after last night.
“I too, but found now answers that could satisfy me. But several are ancient, some are from the Abyss and more fresh from Pontiffs not long ago.”
I ask if they are hearsay or accurate. “The modern ones are genuine accounts… the Abyss I cannot say. None truly know what life was like back then.”
“The gods are not the only beings that walk our world…”
“well, the Gods should never walk our world, if they do something is horribly wrong. These beings are not Gods per se, they do not have a domain, they do not have the presence a God has. Mortals in every sense except for the quantity of power that they wield.”
“Are Pontiffs the only ones who can beg the Gods for assistance?”
“No of course not, we have clerics and paladins, but they entreat only one God at a time.” He tells me.
“Is the recommendation for the every day civilian to not get involved though? I ask because… the Inquisition says they worship Atreia, but that presence in the bonfire was a desire to be free that I recognized as a different God of the Host.”
“Ah you recognize Rovagug… I would say try to avoid their edicts and anathemas… The gods infect us, by creating beasts of power. Rovagug is so tempting because of his hunger. We all feel hunger.”
I begin to push my bowl away, but Anatole says no no, you must not become hungry.
“I feel the Sorrow’s Sword on you… so beware. I give warning because one of his other areas of concern is drawing strength from sorrow. You will become a shell if you engage. You will become powerful but also become a shell of yourself. We call them wights.”
“So, I would eat those oats while you can, hmm!” Anatole chimes in saucily. Trying to diffuse the tension.
“I see… thank you for the information.” I finish my oats and excuse myself to get to the Blacksmith. Anatole considers asking the Church about the infernal nails. Kon will spend time with Felicia, Izeck will go do rat things and then maybe talk to the bar wench.
