From the diaries of Sir Tybalt, a Loskalmi knight on pilgrimage to
Safelster:
"When I reached the small town of Etnaktu I tried, as usual, to find
the local knight and ask for hospitality on the grounds of my
knighthood, but failed because the local "knight" was a simple
yeoman who had no real knowledge of the chivalric customs. Instead he
directed me towards the village's clergyman, who turned out to be a
hospitable but rather dirty and superstitious parish wizard. After
treating me to a coarse but hearty meal prepared by his spinster
sister, and holding a sermon I doubt if any of his parishoners could
understand (those who could attend), we settled down in the evening
sun outside the church. It was decorated with a surprisingly
beautiful painting of a woman carrying some cornsheafs, and when I
asked about it he launched a long praise of the object of the
painting, some local Saint named Marcilla. He described how many
times she had saved those who had prayed to her or made votive
offerings, the wondrous miracles she had perfomed during her life,
and her horrible marturedom against the minions of Gbaji. He ended by
stating that he considered her to be "foremost of the holies of Our
Lawful Church". I asked carefully if this wasn't a little
overstatement; surely he excluded great saints such as Talor and
Gerlant from that, not to mention the prophets, Malkion and Hrestol,
may their names be blessed in speech of Man and the Solace and Joy
they bring be bestowed on the Worthy. At this the wretch sneered:
"Pray tell me, Sir Knight, how many miracles St Malkion did
perform during his life."
I gasped at this blasphemic statement, but remembered my holy
teachings, and how as a gentleman it was my duty to defend my Faith
by meeting the Sin of Foolishness with the Virtue of Wisdom.
Thus I began to recount the known miracles of the Prophet the First.
When I had finished, the wizard grinned toothlessly.
"Ha! That makes a mere twelve, doesn't it? Well, as I have stated, I
know of at least SIXTY-FIVE miracles attributed to St Marcilla, and
that is just in our county - she is known all the way up to the
pagans of Wesmonstran. Pray tell me, Sir Knight, how many miracles
has been performed by Malkion since his death, to praying
supplicants?"
Here I grew angry, and stated that they surely were many and that I
couldn't recount them all.
"Facts!" the little cretin shouted. "I want facts! I can give you
facts!" and he rushed inside to fetch a dirty tome which appearantly
included a myriard notices from every ignorant man or woman within
twenty miles who had ever thought that any of their minor successes
was due to this St Marcilla.
Triumphantly, he finally put the book away and glowered at me.
"Now, pray tell me about how St Malkion met his death! "
"Malkion didn't die!" I sputtered. "He was taken bodily up to Solace
in Glory with the Creator!"
He laughed. "Just like that? No marturedom? NO TORTURE AT ALL??"
I was exasperated.
"No, well, but St Hrestol" - I grew desperate - "St Hrestol was
flogged and crucified and a thorn of iron spikes was pressed unto his
head"
"CRUCIFIED?" the little moron shouted. "CRUCIFIED? There are WORSE
things! Let me tell you about St Marcilla's marturehood...."
and he lapsed into a long diatribe that drove me, who have seen the
depraved slaughters of the Kingdom of War and is a bold warrior,
sick. I finally excused myself and went to bed, and the last words I
heard was "Crucified (chuckle)". I was happy to leave this heretical
hotbed next morning, though I blamed myself most for even entering
such a silly discussion, totally unworthy a pious man.
Erik Sieurin, trapped in scientific world-view and happy about it