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The Vessel

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As the faithful – few as they were – sung their hallowed melody, Henrik raised both arms in blissful reverence and joined in their prayers.

Skagg, was a village of meagre means; it is a place where the word “comfort” seems foreign and aloof to the minds of its coarse-spirited populace. Situated along the windswept shores of Norvden, Skagg’s remoteness sticks out even amidst the standards of the region; with the closest proper town being a good three days to reach on horse-back. 

The only thing this village was famous for – and Henrik used the word “famous” quite generously at that – was salted cod. Tough like boot-leather and excessively salty, these slabs of cured fish can last for months at a time, making them a sought out commodity for sailors, merchants, and soldiers alike.

There was no pretty way in framing it: Skagg was a backwater hovel of a village. Yet, despite its shortcomings, Henrik cherished his dilapidated parish with all his heart. He had been a priest here for ten years, spreading the creed of the Theist Church to a scant flock of fifty or so souls. Though few in number, the inhabitants of this village had unshakable faith – praising the glory of the Theos each and every day without fail.

Bolstered by such pristine faith, Henrik led today’s sermon – reading from the prayer book that was splayed in front of him atop the central podium of the church. His honey-dipped barytone of a voice reverberated as he preached, followed by the soft murmurs of the faithful that echoed his every word with religious captivation.

“In the fires of sin was Man brought low! Let those who remain seek redemption within the eternal light of the Theos!” exclaimed Henrik, dragging his gaze across the church hall. After a brief pause, he continued, “Seek deliverance ye of faith! Live this day as you do every other: with piety and reverence for the divine creed!”

As if on cue, the church attendants got up – muttering a few last words of prayer before exiting the building.

Henrik let the silence wash over him, carefully closing the prayer book in front of him and resting his fingers upon the ornate cover. He remained as such for a few minutes, the pattering of the rain outside buzzing throughout the gloomy church hall.

“You did not pray today, friends,” firmly spoke the priest – addressing four robed figures, two on each side of the hall. The silent visitors had occupied the darkened edges of the room throughout the sermon, not once partaking in the religious exaltations. Despite their efforts to remain obscured, Henrik had taken notice of them almost immediately – for he knew every crevasse of the weathered church building like the back of his hand, and his lingering company reeked of faithlessness to boot.

“Are you merchants, then? Though you lack the countenance of traders…” mused Henrik out-loud, “Or are you perhaps simple travelers, seeking a moment of religious solace while passing through Skagg?” As the priest spoke, three of the figures inched forward; the fourth made way for the church entrance, hastily barring the twin wooden doors.

Henrik felt a spike of uneasiness jolt through him, letting his hand drop to the hilt of the sword that was sheathed by his waist. One of the persons stepped forward: a giant of a man, broad as he was tall. He pulled back his hood, revealing a scar-marred visage that was devoid entirely of hair.

“Our lady seeks a vessel of prayers to no one, priest,” stated the man flatly. “Be it your form or the symbol of your faith,” continued the brute, gesturing at the prayer book that was positioned on the podium, “is up to you.”

“I know not your lady,” Henrik said defiantly, his blade catching candlelight as it rang, freed from its sheath. “But she will make no demands in His house.”

“Fear not for the serenity of your temple, priest,” the man smiled crookedly. “She speaks only in whispers.”

With a nod, the others moved towards Henrik, drawing their hidden weapons with hushed eagerness.

 

FORCES OF THE OLD DOMINION ARE IN THE HUNDRED KINGDOMS. THE OUTCOME WILL INFLUENCE THE RESULT OF THE RITUAL.

Bring back the priest’s book (Result favors Prophet)
39.16%
Bring the priest back alive (Result favors Broken)
60.84%