Sgrios Mass: Crisis of Faith

It is comforting for us to know that the gods watch over us, that they walk among us, that we are cared for by something larger than ourselves. Here, in this forsaken place, we are shrouded in the eternal protection of Lord Sgrios; he who knows death as a subordinate. When I see a felled tree pitted by worms, when I see the dead of yesterday’s hunt nurture the land with their festering bodies, when those I love fail to take another breath I know he lives, and when I am spared from such a grisly fate, my faith in Him is rewarded. His presence is strong and pervasive in our world, and rarely am I ever far from a reminder of His great gifts. But faith is a currency spent in more institutions than this holy shrine, and it is one that accumulates at a glacial pace and diminishes as water in the desert.

What do we do, then, when our faith is lost? We, followers of Sgrios, are blessed to dedicate ourselves to such a powerful god, yet there were others -- gods who predate those of our current pantheon, gods who once commanded worship from the denizens of Temuair. Some of those gods are dead and praised, still. Some remain among us; unseen, yet forgotten. Even among the octave there are gods who linger on the threshold of obscurity. These gods, whether intentionally obscured or carelessly forgotten by the increasingly callus nature of the modern aisling, it is hard to say - but it is clear that without a swell of belief, one cannot be expected to maintain power, order, rule or integrity.

This is not a problem reserved solely for beings of divine origin. In fact, the realm of mortals is just as vulnerable, if not moreso, to the decay that comes when faith is absent. For instance, what Judge can preside in confidence over a town whose population has lost faith in the official? After a term they will be left devoid of clout needed to resume their office and they will effectively be but a man among men once more; if not worse off for their poor display. It is possible to lose faith in our companions. A friend who, too many times, has wronged us - a family member who does not live up to the expectations shared by those bound by blood - a lover who too many times has been careless with the heart of their partner.

And, what, too, is to be done when we, as aisling, have lost faith in the mundanes who sit above even the highest office in the land? Those mundanes who direct our lives here in Temuair, those to whom all who carry the spark are beholden? They sit above us; gods among men - they are pledged to represent the wishes of Temuair and yet so many of us have found our voices are but whispers in the din of the rabble - feeling no more represented than a lamb is by the butcher. What recompense do we have when we have been abandoned by these cruel masters; when our lives are fodder for the petty masses of bloodthirsty children? These mundane monarchs are not as easily toppled as an aisling judge, and their whims are harder to ignore than those of the gods themselves. What is to be done when we have lost faith in the mundanes..?

Before the dawn of the aisling age, two gods fought for dominance over the land; one of pure light and one of absolute darkness. We have, in our infinite ignorance, ascribed the values of good and evil to these beings. The clash ended not in victory, but in a stalemate. Neither god takes an active role in our landscape, yet there are those who still worship their absence like some figurehead of hope. Dead and gone and still the faith remains; yet walk the lands and find me a devout priest of Gramail; tell me why the abundance of Cail cannot produce a clergy member who can weather more than a fair season in the land. Faith is a fickle thing. One would think that the vector of decay would be the first of the faiths to diminish, yet as the land devours its rulers, and as the mundanes bring their destruction to the land, our belief and trust simply strengthens. Every corpse I have to climb over on my way to this shrine serves as steady sustenance for my faith in our Lord.

Even when we have lost faith in our companions, our leaders, our masters and our gods, it strengthens my resolve to see my faith in Sgrios remains. For this consistency, for the care He shows us daily, for his demonstration of strength in this tumultuous age I gladly raise my arms in praise of His good name. Blessings to you, sweet Lord Sgrios, and long may you feast on the decay of this forsaken world that crumbles even now beneath our feet. When you leave this place, carry in your skull eyes attuned to the demise of a good culture and a heart fortified enough to appreciate this decay. May shadows shelter you - go now with God.