Sgrios Shambler

We live in lawless times. One need not leave the confines of their beds to be inundated with vexing heresy, whispered directly into their ears from all points across this blessed land. Hunters stalk the frigid peaks and the crowded ruins in a trance; no more lucid than the skeletons they slay. Bullies roam the abandoned paths of once thriving cities, aware that they throw aislings and insults with impunity. In terms of Chaos and Decay, it is clear that Sgrios has risen to dominance among the Gods. Remember that there were times when the boulevards were so choked with eager young aislings that guards would have to split their busy workload between directing traffic and apprehending those who spoke in terms of other worlds. When I first took office in Mileth for my first term as guard, I saw a lot of raised eyebrows. A dedicated Sgrian priestess in a guard’s tabard is not an entirely common sight, and, admittedly, it gave me pause, too. I felt conflicted swearing myself to man’s law

One often thinks that because our modern Gods share life eternal that the faiths they service, too, are objects of permanence. This, however, is not the case. Our eight temples are living, breathing things; influenced heavily by the great minds who occupy their halls and pliable to their whims. Over this last double-moon our land has seen an influx of Aislings of old -- some revered and some reviled -- but ask any one of them what times were like in their days among the temples of their time and they will surely report back that things were different in their day and age. Take, for example, this very shrine. There was a time when Sgrios worshipers were feared and detested; sneaking into our fabled hall obscured by shadows and deceit. One zealotted follower summoning a succubus in the crowded port of Rucesion would send waves of chaos rippling across the town, and one dared not to cross a Sgrian lest they incur the wrath of our Lord or his fervent devoted. I have done my best to shi