A Prayer

Omnos!

Are we all not but passengers on a slab of stone? Are we not careening through this world at terrifying speed, with only the solid foundation of your grace protecting us from oblivion? Do you not guide us safety, and lead us to our destiny?

You have delivered your champions into a nest of evil and wickedness ---- we will exterminate the hornets. My faith is my shield - I will not be stung. I am buoyed, not burdened, by the responsibilities you place on my shoulders - they lift me up instead of weighing me down.

I will go wherever you take me. I commit myself to your service. Let our enemies see you in our shadows, great Omnos, and quake at the sight. May they find themselves cowed in your presence, blinded by your glory, and may they despair when they oppose your will.

Old Soul, New Shell

Feydor had been grievously wounded, and Frumious was, at the moment, an inadequate conduit for the restorative powers of Omnos. There were prayers that could help, but he had not unlocked their secrets, and that meant his comrade in faith, his friend, was divorced from his vessel, which - being as it was the only part of him they could carry - the Knights of Mist Valley had strapped to his steed as they rode swiftly back to Loston.

Assumptions had been made that Frumious was in conflict with Mother Hazel, but these assumptions misunderstood basic Omnian theology. That the witch was powerful despite her worship of a different god did nothing to dispel the notion of Omnos' divinity and role as creator of all that was known and unknown. Frumious had no difficulty conceiving of an Omnos who created lesser divine beings, even those who could be wardens over the domains of mortal life and death. Such beings could be servants, willing or not, to Omnos, and there could be a variety of reasons why these servants would not reveal their true nature to the penitents who served them. Yet his companions were either loquacious or stubborn, and Frumious' explanation seemed unlikely to result in a satisfying conclusion for anyone, so the cleric was content to play his role, and cede agency to the friends who could eagerly and quickly interact with the woman.

And Mother Hazel was generous towards the Knights, offering them their choice of a solution to their Feydor problem. In fact, the witch, in her capacity as Omnos' unwitting servant, revealed to Frumious that the piccolo given to the young gnome by his father might have significance yet undiscovered. From this, Frumious decided to take a more active role in understanding this object, which he hoped would provide further insight into the glory of Omnos.

Calling upon her magic, the witch bound Feydor to a new body, this one stronger than the last. There was a bit of confusion for a moment while the less theologically burdened among the Knights determined what to do with Feydor's former vessel, but a quick explanation from the cleric made it clear that everything that made Feydor truly what he is was now contained in new flesh, and the corpse before them represented only the potential for a future nemesis if it was not properly dealt with. And so it was, and so the Knights of Mist Valley were whole once more.

Omnos' Truth

As many of you know, I've been away on a journey, along with a few of Halvenspring's sons. We traveled to the East. Along the way, we encountered some wonders - strange new sights, both beautiful and terrifying. For the most part, however, I learned that the similarities we share with others outweigh our differences. The world is peopled with folks who find safety and strength in each other. They form towns and villages, trade services, share their joys and sorrows, and generally make life better for each other. I consider myself very lucky to have come from such a town. I love that I am from a place with its own traditions and memories. What I love most of all about Halvenspring, though, is that it is a receptive town. The Sycamores have been in Halvenspring for several generations. The Risus', the Dragomirs, the Sosyls - they found us one, two, or three generations ago. More recently, we welcomed Klaus Steelpick. Instead of closing our community off to new members, we welcome them, and we are often rewarded.

I owe my existence to this attitude. If Halvenspring were not such a friendly, welcoming place, my mother would have never met my father. I am truly Halvenspring's son. So I guess it makes sense that Linna Sycamore could be considered Halvenspring's mother, or at least she has been for every person who grew up in our church. My mother, at some point in your lives, has probably managed you in a bake sale, led your Libram studies group, or stitched some essential textile in your household. When I remember to keep an open mind, I get that from her. I love my mother.

Love. Along with joy, it's one of the primary things we understand about Omnos. These are his gifts to us. But do we understand these gifts?

What is love? Love is a value that we place on existence. When I say "I love you," it means "I value your existence." When we value the existence of something, we want it to persist, and we want it to persist because through it's persistence, we can continue to know it. Nonexistence is unknown to us. The best we can do is attempt to imagine it, but without the benefit of perception, we quickly become lost. It is outside of our reach. Therefore, when we value something - a person, a place, an idea - we are desiring for it to exist, so that it stays within our ability to know it.

What is joy? It's not equivocal to happiness, although they have much in common. A freshly baked biscuit, hot and buttery and warm from the oven, that can make me happy. But that happiness is like catching a cool breeze on a summer day - it's fleeting, it's not meant to last. Joy is a happiness that is much deeper, from within your heart. Joy is a feeling we get when things are right. And what do I mean by right? Remember that the world is not perfectly according to the plan of Omnos. Scripture informs us that the world is flawed. Every now and then, however, we experience a part of the world that is in line with Omnos' plan, and our hearts experience a natural reaction to seeing his perfect work. That reaction - that's joy. It's a positive energy that is so visceral, you feel it flowing throughout your body.

Isn't that something?

Omnianism preaches love and joy.
Omnos, creator of the world, provides value, and his value is positive.

It does not require any extraordinary leap of faith to know Omnos exists. His work is evident in the miracles he works through us, and through the emissaries that he sends to us. It requires faith to believe that Omnos is the creator of everything, that no other being known to us or otherwise approaches his power, and that he will deliver upon his promise to collect us from the Hall of the Silent Lady at the end of all things.

Oftentimes, the faithful believe that we are limited by what is still contained within the Mystery. For contemporary Omnians, one of our challenges is to remain open and available as new information from the Mystery is revealed to us. Omnos, in his wisdom, has revealed to us information from which we have derived only a few central tenants, with much left open to interpretation or, in some cases, speculation. Interpretation is our privilege as Omnos' creations - speculation less so. Do not fear the change that new discoveries bring, but be wary of drawing hasty conclusions without evidence. Remember that the world is not according to Omnos' plan - we are working to get back to his perfect design. There will be those who seek to take advantage of these flaws. They will wrap their own beliefs in Omnian cloth, but if you pay close attention, you will see that some logical leap is required, something the scripture does not support. Be independent thinkers - don't presume to let the clergy dictate your beliefs to you. Instead, let us be your resource of information and guidance, and become your own sages and scholars. Any priest who tells you otherwise likely has ulterior motives.

Most importantly, continue to live your lives. Love and cherish each other. Find joy in the truth, and appreciate it the way one might appreciate a wildflower in the midst of a field of weed and clover. Your keen eye will discover the ways Omnos introduces his design into the world.

The Lanter Archon OR The Voice in my Head is Named Percival

Inasmuch as Frumious considered himself an owner of possessions, the globe of light was one of the few things that was his. It was loyal only to his commands, and seemed to shy away from the handling of his compatriots, even Grigor, who Frumious no longer was ashamed to admit was more knowledgeable about certain things than he was, particularly when it came to magic.

Over the course of the last few days, however, Frumious had learned that this particular sphere of illumination wasn't a something so much as it was a someone. He had identified himself as Percival.

Now, about that pronoun "He:" The only other Percival whom Frumious had ever heard of came from a story that Linna used to tell the Hawthorne brood of a certain age. Sitting around the fire after supper and chores and Libram studies were complete, Linna would gather Porter, April, Jolene, Frumious, and Mercy onto the hearth carpet and spin the tale of a First-World knight and champion of Omnos, the gnome who ventured forth into dark forests and foreboding caverns, ever in search of innocents in need of strength and a symbol to reward their faith. Linna had a habit of combining old-world folklore and neo-Omnian concepts, but the stories rarely suffered for it. Against the walls behind her, the flickering firelight put on an impromptu shadow puppet play, and Frumious would often see the brave knight Percival raise his sword against bears, dragons, and other terrifying beasts.

Percival was a good name. The archon might not be a champion, but Frumious liked knowing that he was always around, looking out for him. He took comfort in his musical sing-song voice, was enamored of both his ambition and accompanying self-doubt, and now that the two long-time companions were acquainted, Frumious could almost convince himself that Percival now glowed brighter than he ever had before.

Frumious' Half-Baked Plan

Where evil may slumber, is it better to stay the course and not disturb it (as wickedness is a trait that depends heavily on being active, alert, and to an extent, ambulatory), or should heroes risk the incursion of evil's wrath in an effort to destroy it? That was the question before Frumious and his friends as they stood before the door to the Tomb of Naboo, a potential horror that was yet unknown to them. They had learned so much in one simple trip down to Helga's basement in the Gutted Candle - about the previous age, about Dalus - but the pursuit of knowledge usually leads to more questions as one discovers the answers. This present excursion, then, could be considered prototypical of such pursuits.

Ultimately, the "knights" decided to let this one sleep for the time being, hopefully to return with more power and information that could be used to destroy whatever dark forces lay within. Something about the recent arrival of that cleric and his friend told Frumious that they might be returning to the tomb sooner than originally anticipated.

In between, however, the pious gnome found himself in Shadowmount with two days to spare and little to occupy his time. He was not inclined towards idleness, and so took it upon himself to make himself useful vis a vis his family profession, and to get a sense of the spiritual nature of the town's compelled secular citizenry. Fortunately, there were two bakeries in town. The first one was disinterested in Frumious' assistance (even suspicious, sadly), but Theos, the second baker, was more receptive, and bestowed upon the cleric the gift of servitude. Frumious made himself useful over the next several hours, only asking for himself a single loaf of bread, which was itself a surreptitious carrying case for Dalus' talisman.

After the workday was completed, Theos became interested in what creed brought Frumious to his door that day, and thus presented the gnome with a second gift - the opportunity to bring another Omnian into the fold. Having given him so much, Frumious wanted to return the favor, and so presented Theos with his Valecommon edition of the Libram (he could make do well enough for the time being with his Gnomish translation).

Upon returning to his friends, he discovered that they had experienced an eventful few hours, and had been concerned with the cleric's disappearance. Frumious resolved to be more mindful of this in the future, and to make the rest of the group aware of his whereabouts if he were to stray for any length of time.

Dalus' Keep

Frumious' memory of his time in Marquis Dalus' residence is not a pleasant one. First and foremost, he did not care for the Doorwarden. He could not decide if her initial attempts at duplicity were vanity, or simply an order from the Marquis himself, but her later attempts at duplicity were more transparently evil. Frumious took great pleasure in outwitting her as she continued to block the group's exit from the keep.

There was the Marquis himself, who had made the mistake of considering himself above others, and treated souls as if they were somehow less important than his. This was also the first time, and - he hoped - the last time he would be swallowed by a frog. The group also found the design of the keep maddening (which was surely the intention), and attempts to traverse it led to considerable strife among friends.

There were a few positive takeaways. The aforementioned foiling of the Doorwarden, but also the discovery of the blank wand. This would be a magic which the gnome would look forward to researching and duplicating. Additionally, the opportunity arose to free Master Shake from his decade of imprisonment, and to learn the reasons for his failure to deliver the religious texts to Halvenspring.

Free of the keep now, and with no fatalities, Frumious could now find time for reflection. Hopefully, the Marquis would not consider the circumstances of their departure to be a nullification of his promise to free Thomas, once the group had fulfilled their part of the bargain. But would the others still want to? Frumious was still willing, and his backpack was heavier for it. He did not know the minds of his fellow "knights," but he hoped that he knew their hearts.

Undead

Frumious had first-hand insight into how a creature might possess intelligence of a sorts, yet still lack an eternal component. Some of these creatures still served the Will of Omnos, as they were integral to the mechanism of the world. Others, though, clearly served the will of something else. In this sense, they were no more substantial to the cleric than an animated broomstick in a dusty curiosities shop.

Sarath had warned his charge that there would be dark spirits who could emulate the semblance of life very convincingly. Telling them apart would require great perception. The tell-tale signs of redcaps and reavers were obvious to anyone with a sense of self-preservation, but it would not always be so easy.

Then there was the matter of that tree. Clearly, it was something terrible, something evil. But Frumious suffered from a lack of understanding. Was the tree itself a source of evil, or was it infected with something? Could it be cleansed? Could it be destroyed? He would be thinking about this for some time.

Gnight

Frumious wasn't exactly comfortable with the term "knight." He was a simple priest wearing homespun. True, he had a nifty mace, and could cast a spell or two, but he had seen men with combat prowess in action. Men of action, men of valor. Frumious wasn't sure he would stand up to comparison.

The bishop saw a large man in the spirit of a gnome. Frumious would reflect on what that meant. His gift was a blessing, but it was also a responsibility. He hoped he would honor it.