✹ The First Ardent Bull of Vaelyn ✹

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THE FIRST
ARDENT BULL
OF VAELYN

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Blessed is the courageous will of the bearers of our Lady of Light.

AMUKLAIOS of OPORA of 190 AU

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OUR NEW HOME1732234607668.png
Blessed is our torchbearer, for Her determination to see Her firebearers survive is a ceaseless job. Twice now she carried us on the back of wooden wings, through and across tall waves, around jagged rocks, with a shield of ignorance to the siren calls of death deep in the ever growing black seas. Fleeing burning Manaan, we escaped with our newfound friends and exasperated strangers as one member of a patchwork fleet of subsisters. Blessed is our torchbearer, for Her grace knows not the wickedness of the nonbelievers, for even they were allowed to make it aboard. Whereas our knights, eager with their blades to draw the acidic blood of daemons and dark things, might have cut down the heretics to shave off some corruptive risk, She spoke through the voice in the back of our minds and asked of us: let them be. So, they were let be, and we were merry together in our still being alive. And so imbibing, with bellies full of wine and bread, those strangers and heretics were, for a moment, comrades.

Mooring, legionnaires in gleaming steelplate escorted us through high, mossy gates to the Exalted Forum, a square of some proportion, to be greeted by emissaries and civil servants of a charitable type. They blessed us with blankets and bushels of foodstuffs, and spoke like mothers to their children of their relief at our arrival. It seems that word of The Cataclysm had travelled far and wide and that its ravages were without prejudice in the breadth of their destruction. Only a few cosms survived, distant whispers of thick-walled fortresses and ethereally shielded townships, our new one only by the intense magics of the Circle and the so-called Holy One, the God-Emperor of the ivory tower, the Exaltun. Ruling from on high, the Exaltun is apparently a figure of immense power and knowledge, but being absent from public life and display, who is to say? Is he truly like Elyria? Doubtful, for we have seen Her and we know that our torchbearer is as She is–empyrean. For She was there when we needed her, twice, and She will be when we need Her again.


ON CRUMBLING MARBLE
Vaeyln’s walls are growing old. New stones and fresh plaster are required. Sick with the intoxication of utopian life, the old people of the ivory city are fat and sluggish. Divorced from war and from struggle, they only now know the meaning of sore muscles and overextended tendons. Perhaps it is time for a new echelon to rise to the occasion? For the new denizens of Vaelyn to speak and to act, moving with the fear of damnation at their backs, but with the sheer bravery to act, setting their eyes forward. We must stand and join the fight to ensure our collective survival. Otherwise, there will be no future, for there is no new place to run to. So, do as the Knights do and… repair, improve, and prepare for war. Fix the cracks in walls, establish new pathways, and stock up on goods and tools.




HIS HOLINESS the INNOCENCE,
Dionysius II
 
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