Sgrios Shambler

There were two sisters who grew up in Undine, raised, as it were, by their grandfather. When the girls came of age the grandfather sent   Along the Undine waterfront, two girls were raised, as it were, by their grandfather. It was a humble yet fulfilling life of quiet joys, but when the girls came of age they were sent away to study so as to create better lives for themselves.   In the mountains that pull the halves of Temuair together are two twin peaks, the highest in the entire range. On the crest of each mountain was built a monastery; the monks of the eastern peak dedicated themselves to the worship of the light, whereas the western monastery was populated by those who find solace in the darkness. The sisters were separated from one another and sent to study at either peak.   After five years had passed both girls came down from the mountains and spent a week with their grandfather. He asked: what have you learned, my girls? The sister whom had studied in

It is with great pride that mass was held today with a sermon from our temple acolyte, Brother Foucault. During his presentation it was discussed the meditations and teachings that he has tirelessly studied. We were blessed to hear it, as we are blessed to have such an active and devoted following in our temple. Foucault's sermon can be read in it's entirety on the parchment below: Listen, and I will tell you the Cycles of Unbecoming! Thus I have heard: At one time the Enlightened Sabonim was staying amongst the Aislings at Suomi.   There the Enlightened Sabonim addressed the hubae: "Monks," and they replied, "Honorable Sabonim!"   Then the Enlightened Sabonim spoke as follows: This is the one and only way for monks, for the purification of the spark, for overcoming sorrow and despair, for extinguishing suffering and grief, for walking the path of the Sapphire Stream, and the realization of awareness. A monk must dwell on the con

The Shrine of Sgrios is proud to welcome a number of new initiates to our faith this Deoch; please join me in welcoming these fresh souls and make yourself available to teach and aid them along their path. Agnes Akello Ernan Krombopulos Mausolus  Morbid Reaper Sadira Salibos Zengem Advanced to Acolyte: Andrade Foucault Goji

An area that has always been of great interest to me is local folklore. Whenever I have spare time during my travels I make it a point to seek out some locals whom might pass along some stories and lore. Oral histories are the only accounts of many of the events that have shaped Temuair, and, as the elder generation die off, we are finding that they are lost forever -- leaving vacant holes in our understanding for eternity.   I have stacks and stacks of papers with various folk tales cataloged on them in my study here, but just recently while I was nervously pacing the streets of my home town, Oren, I overheard a conversation between an old mundane and a child that sparked a buried memory of a tale I was told during my childhood; funnily it ties into a question I get asked often and, in my literary pursuits, have never found a scholarly answer to.   In front of the palace in Oren sits a sinister statue carved of black stone. It exudes an unpleasant aura, and baski

Why is it we worship at the cursed altar of Sgrios? What draws us to Him? Do we crawl on our bellies to his chamber in pursuit of immunity to His touch? Fellows, our love of the dark lord does not grant us special favor to the gift of decay, and in this grim hall, we must remind ourselves to be doubly vigilant of the creeping rot which will eventually consume us.   Wood splinters, swords rust, even mighty castles turn to rubble. Flowers wilt, bodies decompose. Additionally -- love fades, hate ebbs and memories become the fertile ground of the future. There is a manner of decay for every order of the natural world, and, as we have discussed in times past, we must also be aware of the small deaths of the self and the decay of the realms of the unconscious. It is plain to see when an infection festers on a limb, and treatment is easier to administer to a wound than it is to erase the stains of internal darkness.   We must be stalwart defenders of our mental faculties