Member
Urelynnde, Chapel of the Lord Emperor's Demise
Kisha e Vdekjes Së Perandorit Të
The room in which Locian sat was far from the pews of the main chapel, far from the massive statue of the Halwende, and his final blow to the Lord Emperor, and yet despite the distance from the cavernous hall of preaching, the sermons and chants were abundant still.
The tongue of Lynnde bounced off the impossibly smooth stone walls, and the gilded decorations, almost lulling Locian into a sort of enlightened slumber, if not for the piercing old eyes across from him. The Archbishop found himself in the company of none other than the Archbishop d'Kamwell, the old man having returned to Urelynnde from Abigail's coronation in time to meet his fellow consituent. The two men were drastically different, with Locian being of youth and d'Kamwell being of an indescribable old age. The man held a grandfatherly look to him, and was immensily comforting when he smiled, which was often.
The room was a smattering of silvers and blues, with every imaginiable decoration and ancient painting on display, as if the room served more as a museum than a place to relax and greet distinguished guests. Even the robes of d'Kamwell were ostentatious in age and prestige alone rather than decor, and his very attempts at humility in behavior simply gave him the proud aura of a renown sage.
A bishop was just leaving the ancient room as d'Kamwell continued the conversation, "bishop Bernard of Tralusee," he identified the leaving man, "a good lad, a smart man, and a great leader. I have every bit of faith in him to take up my mantle when the Serene One bids me home."
"But," d'Kamwell smiled, his old wrinkly cheeks curtaining the warmest grin, "I feel as if that may yet be long from now."
The Archbishop of Olira stood to face his fellow, similar in the humility of his garb, and his knees shaking with his bow, despite his apparant youth. "Your Serenity," he began, his Lynnfarish perfect but with the twinge of an accent. His stay Urelynnde had been quite eye-opening so far, as he learned about the homeland of his faith, and the differences in their respective applications.
d'Kamwell waved an old hand, "bah, know me as friend, or Albert when in good company."
Albert d'Kamwell motioned to a ring of plush seats, "won't you sit down?"
"Of course," Locian said as he sat slowly, adding, "and you can call me Locian...friend." It fell strange treating a man who was so much his elder, both in age and in experience, as a peer, but he respects d'Kamwell's humility, something which he has so long aspired to.
"A pleasure," d'Kamwell smiled, "last I saw you, we hadn't a proper chance to meet. I pray the funding has reached your hositallers and your refugees of the storm."
Locian nodded somberly. "Yes, my provenance of Tacraif has been aided dutifully, as have the funds to all Laghad and the capital of Rilik, and for that I thank Serenity, although I'm afraid much of the country still seeks salvation." He stratched the back of his neck. "For instance, the non-serenists of Formor have recieved no funding at all...though that is due much to the royalties of Olira rather than the Serene Council." He sighed before continuing. "But I digress. How goes the war? I met the Queen only recently."
"Ah yes, Formor," d'Kamwell seemed to reminice for a moment, "as for the war, it is a war and war is war; however, I do believe it to be on it's last legs. The Queen is coronated, and her support grows daily. My yes, last legs indeed."
"That is good news to hear," Locian said with a smile. "I have been quite enamoured by Lynnfaire, I am glad to see her people guided by such caring hands." The archbishop sighed. "That said, I am sad to have to leave so shortly."
"Ah yes," d'Kamwell nodded, "I've heard of your pending mission to Matathran." He paused and nodded his head a while, "I'll be happy to join."
The younger man's eyes lit up, and immediately tried to hide the shocked expression enveloping his face. "Join? Why..." He thought back to his days as a young man, his missionary work in Freishann, and the punishment that followed. He chose his next words carefully. "Are you sure your...physicality is to the standard necessary?" He asked, hoping not to offend his elder.
d'Kamwell's eyes crinkled as he smiled almost playfully mocking his younger peer, "my dear Locian, shall I preach the proverbs of judgment while yourself is the one judged. My legs are as able as your own, do not take offense to my observation, but we are one and the same in physicality."
"I shall go," he concluded, "d'Drouchester has lost his champion and is in repentance for his lack of forsight, the nation has their Queen, and the war has no need for an old man like me, unlike our friends in Matathran. Besides, I too have been planning this for quite some time indeed. I already have an entourage sorted, it so happens."
The holy man chuckled at the archbishop's machinations. "You weren't quite asking to join, were you?"
"More or less stating a fact," d'Kamwell gave a sly elderly grin.
Locian nodded. "Alright. I shall need someone to coordinate our legality with the Imperial government if we are to stay for longer than a single moon." He reached into his cloak and withdrew a scrolled, which after unrolling revealed itself to be a map of Matathran. "I have selected the location of the mission to be the city of Darjai, although I would like to extend our operations into the slave fields of the South Savanna, if it were possible." Sighing in contempt, he added, "I have found that those with the least in material wealth always see the most value in the spiritual."
d'Kamwell nodded, "these maps look quite like our own." He moved his fingers across it, "you will find that the current Administration of Matathran figures itself the owner of the souls of those rich or poor, and further more uncooperative past old oaths in allowing ease of worship for current Serene citizens let alone the conversion of new Serene citizens. I suggest we work the top down as well as the bottom up, to which I have my own ideas."
"Repeated requests for funds have reached all our doorsteps, but the largest problem as pointed out countlessly by d'Drouschester has been the fact of how money flows in Matathran versus how the church flows. We are continiously stoppered as well as segmented in such a way that there is little hope any money unsupervised will ever reach its intended target and even if it did, if a paper written rule of law would simply make an island of the attempt and suffocate it, much like the current standing churches. So, in a sort of round about conclusion, while we work the word to the lower totem, we must also find friends in the burocracy to ensure a flow of life into the nigh choking institution that is the current affair of the Matathran church. It is imperative we strike a concordant and understanding to allow even the simplest of behaviors that are as of now restrained by law, such as the simple act of attending a sermon, or even giving the sermon."
Albert looked up from the map and at Locian, "of course you already knew that.
He paused, "The immediate situation of Matathran calls for reconstruction, to allow the current churches to flourish once more. Open up the dams so to say. Speaking the word is important, yes, but a good farmer knows to plant in irrigated land should it be found dry. Our top priority is making the church an accessable and beneficial option once more."
"Of course," Locian began, "I was just not expecting the Archbishop d'Kamwell to join me," he said with a laugh. "My retinue knows little of the dealings of the wealthy, and, with much of our offerings to the poor being in the form of relief, I simply found that it would be a task too laborious to take. But, with your aide and the aide of Lynnfarish deacons, this task would be far easier to perform."
"There also exists a group in Matathran known as the Freedmen Pitfighters. Despite their low caste, they have exceeding influence among the Matathrani masses. While most of them are violent and chaotic, I have heard word of a few individuals in the area of Darjai who would be far more open to the word of the Serene Church. I suggest we indoctrinate as many of these individuals as we can, as soon as we can." He paused, looking to the side with a frown, adding, "I know that one exposed to great barbarism often seeks to escape it."
d'Kamwell listened in silence, his eyes following the younger Archbishop. He nodded in understanding, "you're young, I can hear it in your voice and how you talk. While yes it is good to have friends in Serenity, our doctrine is not a plague, not a sickness, not to be spread in a quick and haphhazard manner. Should our voice to the people be only the men of bloodgames, the people will know only their words on our doctrine. We must use a tender hand, care and slowly dig our channel through the land once more. Let the flock come graze on our fresh grass, and tend to them as they come. To do this, we need reforms, not celebrities. The words should pour from diverse sources, and the administraiton should allow it, so in that it may flourish naturally and wholly. This is a large task before us, one that will not be solved through simple grabs of the loudest people."
Locian was silent for a bit, eyebrows knit in thought, making sure not to let his own experience take hold of his duty. "I understand. I...sometimes have much more faith in the Serene One than I do in my fellow man. But there is great use in Matathran having two more archbishops. Reform should be a target of ours, and the cynosure of our operation. But we both are aware of the failures and cruelty of the Matathrani governance. I trust in your ability to speak to the men of the nation, but I must do my best to speak to the men of the people. If there could be no liberty for the slaves and commonfolk in life, then perhaps they could at least sit beneath the shade of our tree, and find sanctuary in Serenity." He coughed, and looked back at the Archbishop d'Kamwell, finding himself back in the moment. "That said, you are right, our attempts at reform should be the primary objective of the Darjai mission."
"To ensure the longevity of the movement," d'Kamwell agreed, "we move from the top down for longevity, legality, and assurance of prosperity, and bottom up to build the foundation of faith and order. It will be done, praise be. But let us not step on the gardens of another, we should rendevous with Archbishops Trimalchio and Vettii then combine our efforts."
"Of course," Locian said with a nod. "They are already to greet us upon our arrival in Darjai." The archbishop thought for a moment. "Are there any other concerns you have regarding the mission?"
"You've contacted Trimalchio and Vettii?" d'Kamwell seemed shocked.
"Er..." Locian looked away embarrasedly, scratching the back of his neck. "They had actually contacted me, you see I am embarking on this mission at their behest...I think they had read some of my writings...but yes, I have been in correspondence with them for some time."
"Oh, I see," Albert d'Kamwell sratched his bald chin, "what does your entourage consist of thus far?"
"The mission was planned to be staffed with missionaries from the Order of Laghad, who I have brought with me. Additionally are our Taisafirin bodyguards, to ensure our safety on the trip."
"How many of each?" d'Kamwell asked.
"One hundred missionaries, with forty Taisafirin. What could you bring with you?" Locian asked in return.
"I will be sending a letter prior to our departure with hopes of recieving word before heading out, just as courtesy to their border structure," d'Kamwell stated, "but to answer your question, about three wagons of honey and wax, two of supplies, and a compliment to suffieciently guard such a chain as well as no less than sixty lynnfairish deacons and thirty labourers. This of course, shall be stated in the letter in hopes of easing any problems that may arise."
"Good, my missionaries act as their own labor, so yours should not be overencumbered. We shall also be bringing a wagon of medical supplies, an abundance of grain, a wagon of Serenist and Laghadi literature, and building supplies for to build the mission itself." He paused for a moment, thinking before asking, "Pardon my asking, but for what purpose do you require such a high volume of honey?"
"For sermons, gifts, dessert," d'Kamwell listed, "boil it for sugar if you must. As for the building of a mission, I think you may be a bit presumtious on how much leeway we are going to experience in Matathran. We need to discuss zoning with the administration first hand, and after such talks we are likely to purchase an existing dwelling before they let us build on their land far and few in fetility. As you can see, this is another reason I stress our talks with the higher ups to be of utmost importance. We can't waltz in, unannounced and set up shop, we aren't hawkers."
"Of course. The Archbishops of Matathran already know of our impending arrival, but I am a stranger to...finding friends in high places. How do you suggest we approach the adminastrative blockages?"
"With appointments, and things to bejewel their eyes with," d'Kamwell answered, "the Archbishops of Matathran don't have enough pull in their respective areas to give us what we need, so I will be sending letters to Imperial Administrators of my intentions of collaboration and mutual gain in hopes of appointment and talks. The other Archbishops will be needed once we secure zoning as well as affirm routes that different castes can take to even hear the sermons let alone worship. Not to mention they have a better lay of the political land than we do, so they will be a keystone in the reformation."
Locian nodded.
d'Kamwell stood up, "well that's enough talk of this for now. You should retire to your quarters, and we can discuss things further tomorrow. You can meet my entourage and I can meet yours. Rest assured the letters will be sent once I finish writing them this very night."
