Sgrios Shambler

Praise Sgrios! Our Lord of Death, Decay, and Rot!  My Lord of Mercy! We gather today to embrace the truth! That death is not the enemy. Decay is not to be feared. And destruction - ah, destruction - is but the reshuffling of sacred bones to make space for blooming life. The aching roots of a tree draw strength from the fallen. The wilted bloom folds into the soil to cradle the next seed. That which breaks is never wasted. That which ends…prepares the way. Sgrios does not take from us out of cruelty. He quiets pain. He offers release. He welcomes those whose bodies have failed them, whose suffering has outlived its purpose. And in His gentle rot, he nourishes that which comes next. For mercy is not always a healing that preserves but a healing that frees. We, who heal, know this intimately. We stitch wounds that sometimes will not close. We offer medicines that sometimes cannot cure. We hold hands on nights where hope...is far less gift than burden. In those moments... **takes a dee...

Few Aislings experience only one life. When Deoch touched us with our spark, he granted us a sight beyond that which we use to observe the world around us. The very term Aisling marks us as dreamers. Many of us have an uncanny connection to our family; we’re able to see what they see, know what they know. Siblings, cousins, parents and children - to many there is often little to separate our perception. Further, still, as ‘dreamers’, we are possessed with the ability to experience a second existence outside of ourselves. When we dream, our spirit travels to other realms where we are witness to a life entirely distinct, yet fully tethered to our existence. Despite how foreign these realms may seem, we are bound together by a silver thread that can not easily be severed. I’ve heard numerous accounts of the fantastical lives people lead in their dreams and from all accounts, these lives seem to be as real as anything we experience in our waking lives, here, in Temuair. I often wonder if, ...

High Priestess Paramour:  For over ten cycles this temple has been entrusted to my leadership. In many ways, I’ve shaped the face of this faith - not through the determination of force, but for lack of collaborators. Much of my life I spent feeling uncertain about the weight of my contributions, feeling as if I was unworthy to instigate change as nothing more than a mere priestess. Knowing what I did of our history, and having been raised in that environment by Van Morgan, the father of the modern Sgrian faith, I spent half of my time wishing I had someone to stand by my side and help me, and the other half fearing what may happen should a spectre of the past should manifest and deem my leadership unworthy. Though ghosts of the old temple do manifest on occasions, my service to this faith has largely been the work of a lone individual, and in that framework I became accustomed to being alone. Eventually I just gave up on being, altogether. No voice could penetrate my slumber - non...

((Notes: I lost my mom a few months ago and I just had my first birthday without her. This mass is based on true IRL events and the lessons of life, love, and death my mother taught me. I hope you find at least some value in these words. Please forgive me this moment of selfishness. If I could only ever hold one mass for Sgrios, it needed to be this one.)) **visibly nervous, voice a little shy** I would like to begin tonight's mass with a poem of mine. In hopes that you might all get to know me just a little bit better.  **deep breath** **a second one** **awkward pause** The Sgriocan Assertion **checks the room for reactions** **voice gets stronger** I assert that I’m Sgriocan I know that’s rather strange I promise I’m not broken I stand here firm and sane Some people find it rather odd “A Sgriocan? what is that?” “You can only have one god!” “This I know as fact!” I will not argue you my friend You may only serve at one Though hearts have ample space within To worship whom you wan...

 A Reflection by Priest Heva of Sgrios ((Much more was added as improv such as emotes, roleplay flavor, interaction with attendees, etc - this is the abridged note version)) My brothers and sisters who gather for this sacred Mass, I speak to you as one who has walked many paths in service to our Lord Sgrios. When I first took the cloth in Deoch 28, I believed that prayer and ritual alone would bring me closer to His crimson embrace. How naive I was then. It was through the discipline of the monk that I first began to understand. Hours spent in meditation, feeling my own flesh grow heavy with mortality, taught me that our bodies themselves are vessels heading toward one destination. Every breath we draw brings us closer to that final exhale. In those quiet moments, I felt His presence not as some distant deity, but as the inevitable force working within my very bones. When I embraced the ways of the druid, true revelation came. In the deep forests, I discovered what our Lord had bee...

  Through many discussions and initiations, I have heard Sgrios burdened with the name of Chaos. Chaos, the realm of Chadul, is disorder without meaning, confusion without form, the raving of madness. Yet when we look with clearer eyes upon the God of Death, Decay, and Destruction, what do we truly see? Look not at the mutterings of men, but at his hand upon the Aisling spark, and at the mark he leaves upon us — the Scar. The spark is fragile. One need not die to lose it, as is plain in those who once woke but no longer rise, though the gift of rebirth remains. And when death does come, we stand before Sgrios in our most delicate form, our souls stripped bare, shielded only by that faint and holy light within us. Yet in this most vulnerable state, his touch is measured. He returns us with care, leaving only a scar as testimony. This is no careless ruin. This is not confusion. It is an act of precision, of balance — the furthest from chaos one could imagine. When we speak of order, ...