Sgrios Shambler

  The other Aislings; they look at us and see shadows. They see the black robes, the scent of sacred rot, the silent prayers to the Lord of the End, and they think we too must have already crossed the threshold. They think that to worship Sgrios is to surrender to the grave. To be weak. Sickly. Meek. How little they understand! Look at your hands! Do they not bleed when cut? Does your heart not thunder in your chest when you face the Creants in the dark? We worship the God of Death, yes! We are the shepherds of the inevitable, the keepers of the ticking clock. But do not mistake our devotion for having the fortitude of a creature found in House Macabre. We do not seek the grave; we master it! We are Aislings! We are the spark that Deoch ignited and Sgrios shall one day reclaim. But that "one day" does not have to be today! To know death is to truly know life. The Cail acolytes pray for growth, but they fear the harvest. The Gramailians pray for order, so long as that order la...

Welcome, seekers of the shadow, to our musty house of rot. I see many of you shivering tonight - perhaps from the dampness of the crypts, or perhaps because you feel the early tickle of Sgrios’ fingers upon your throat. It is a heavy air we breathe tonight, is it not? The sweet, cloying scent of things beginning to come apart. Tonight, we speak of Illness. To the mundanes of Loures, illness is a tragedy. They run to the temples of Cail, begging for herbs and "purity." They hide behind the stone walls of their capital, praying to Gramail for "order" and "quarantine," as if a king’s decree could stop the infectious messengers of our Lord.  But we know better. Have you heard the whispers from the second floor of Loures Castle? Of the child, Jacqueline? They say she is being sapped of life, a hollow shell wasting away. But do you know the source of her suffering? It is not the natural touch of our Lord. It is... the Pact of Anaman Her father, the Councilor Cyr...

I see many familiar faces tonight, as well as many new sparks flickering in this dim light. It's wonderful to see you all here let this be the first of many thanks for joining. Tonight, I want to speak on something -not- particularly Sgrian. However, there can be no denying that it is as much a part of our daily life as it is any others. "Inspiration." When you hear that word - what comes to mind? Lydien: *raises hand* Lydien: Are we raising hands? Or just speak, we're all equals here. Lydien: Well, I actually have a lot of opinions about inspiration, but I think the main one is that it's actually..stealing. Sort of.. like I get my inspiration from other people, other things, the way the sky looks, the way something sounds or feels and then, yeah, make it my own, reenvision it. Taking a part of someone or something else and making it a part of yourself? Absolutely. Joraa: I think of artistic endeavors A Cailite artist painting a blooming flower is certainly inspir...

  There is a phrase...  A phrase that vastly predates the birth of this land. One that still echoes with its impressive and unfathomable wisdom - regardless of the plane that it originated. *Memento mori* — does anyone know what this phrase means? often translated as "remember that you must die" —  Often, it serves as a humble check on hubris, a reminder of the transient nature of power, vanity and life itself. However, it is a phrase that speaks volumes when given more than just a cursory thought. Personified through our lord Sgrios, the meaning shifts from a passive philosophical ideal to something we must literally confront.  "Remember death" - Sgrios is the living embodiment of death and decay, and he transforms death from a distant, eventual event to our recipient of prayer. The Great Lord stands as a constant observer of our adventures, ensuring that all us servants witness our mortality as it is standing right in front of us. Curiously, it seems as if the for...

  Welcome, fellows. My name is Lenorah, and I am honored to stand before you once again in these hallowed halls. A new Deoch has arrived since I last spoke here, and an entire new cycle is turning. With it, I hope that we can be reminded of how endings are not something to be feared, but embraced. We Aislings have seen this revolution many times before, and with each one has come its own series of gains and losses. Indeed, in this very temple we have lost the persistent presence of many dedicated sparks, but I have also seen some new ones who may be young in their journeys of faith, but represent a hope that must not be ignored. With all that said, I feel a good use of my energy would be to reiterate to those who do not call this shrine their home why so many of us have and do. Throughout the centuries, even before the time of Aislings, people have cowered in fear at the name of Sgrios. His name has been associated with cruelty and evil. Perhaps stories of the so-called "Worshippe...

  Sgrios enjoys a reputation as the guardian of the end. He is the last thing we see before oblivion, and, as such, the net that keeps us from throttling over the edge of mortality into the realm of unbeing. For those focused on the preservation of the past, they see Sgrios as a God of Death; those with eyes fixed on the future embrace his stewardship of the living. Regardless of the vantage, Sgrios stands as the God of Endings; which seems cut and dry - birth allows us a starting point, and death punctuates the finality of that journey. What do we do, however, when the concept of an ‘ending’ is more complicated than that..? We, of course, know that life is more than a single narrative; it is a thick tome of adventures in which you are the protagonist. It is a journey composed of countless endings, and where one bleeds into the next is never as clearly defined as the chapters in a book. So, my question is: how do we know when something is over? When the meal has been served and we ...