Côte Poisson - Connaissance est Puissance

[Psyche]

Joy and sorrow once again prove ineffably to be inseperable; the palm that giveth is the dorsum that smacks it away. I believe Sable Hart to be ready for a true baptism; not some show-mockery from Winterlass. Dangerous? Certainly - but I have faith that the dark root of the Heretic has been burned from her body and spirit. But what of more mortal problems? Her affection to Vasten is most apparent - another voice in the gallery of futile suspicions. She too, earnestly seeks a resolution, but like the others lacks the impartial sight to find it. The reason behind Vasten's obstinant standing remains the primary point of contrition, and for this reason one in need of desperate clarification. I am no closer to knowing the truth; i cannot in good conscience omit Vasten's side in favour of Card's because one I can trust, and the other I cannot - 'Who has more to loose' - Sable's insight troubles me so. How can i approach this without making it seem I am questioning the integrity of every Templar of our clergy in their oaths.. but still find the truth of the matter? I pray nightly for the insight to guide us through this, and i hope with all my heart the meeting will do well for us all..

[Psyche]

A day of glad tidings indeed! Sable's demonstrations at the meeting table that she no longer believes the Zeklos heresy has gone a long way to endearing Warden Draven to her baptism; but he remains rightly cautious. Warden Draven's bluntness was testing at times; but i hope I am right in not insisting Sable's denouncement of Winterlass; in truth, if someone told me my mentor; someone in whom i had invested so much of myself; spirit and flesh, was condemned; truth or not I would have a hard time of accepting it. Sable's attachment to Winterlass is not ideological, but personal. She knows the danger, it is a risk, but not a present danger to us. Similarly i did not press the renouncement of the Fifth Text - whilst i do not agree with her the words may have merit, I can hardly defame her for esoteric textual study.
Vasten's confession, too, has demonstrated he is prepared to change. But I too agree with him, that he still has far to go; and may never be ready to regain the mantle of Templar - so desperate is he for my forgiveness, but can i respond to him with that? When forgiveness is such a divine thing? Am I endowed with the authority to do so? Or is it my own misgivings? Do I doubt Vasten is truely sorry? In some part, yes. I cannot yet, nor perhaps ever give him my personal forgiveness, but in confession to me he is forgiven enough, and perhaps soon he will forgive himself.
I am filled with deep anxiety, however. What, so dire has happened in Port-a-Lucine to warrent an envoy? And why me, what is my revelance? Warden Andre spoke that my presense has been recognised, but Ste. Mere des Larmes is filled with individuals as proficient as I, and infinately more convenient to gain help from. But a summons from the Sentire.. and, more worryingly, the invokation of our Bastion, made all the more pertinant with her frailty.. i am anxious of what is ahead.

[Psyche]

Warden Ward's news that the hersy has not gotten roots further than his current sphere of influence is encouraging. But, as always, the joyful event of her return brings with it sorrow; the impetus that we must soon act. If the heretic's leaflets are to be believed they have been granted the Rite of Revelation, the faith as we know it may teeter on a precipice. The Praesidius' logic is questionable; true the Rite would show them to be false.. but if they hold the power to decieve it, in the Eye.. it was ill-thought out. The Warden has also given me cause to think on other things; the extent to which the clergy is healing, if i have not seen Templars Card and Kaeyna for so long? And I wonder that if, in this time of darkness we are better off to hurry Sable to the Trial? Is she ready? Is it even what she wants? But her faith and dedication is unquestionable; she is an untapped asset.
Too often now i find my faith and duties mired in pragmatism. Deals with demon-summoners.. putting the integrity of the clergy above the redemption of an individual. Is this what being an Anchorite means? Is this what 'Today I care for you, as tomorrow you may care for me' really means?

[Psyche]

I feel renewed - the insecurities of days late banished with our return to numbers. Templar Card and Kaeyna's return to Barovia, our Refuge of Fifth Light and the place they are to be needed most. Am I relieved? Yes. I am relieved that once more our church may stand strong and united enough to face and respond to this challenge before us.. but also, and more selfishly, that i no longer face the shame of the dishevelment of our mission. Am i relieved, though, of having the burdon of ultimate responsibility lifted from my own shoulders? Afterall, Warden Ward is far more experienced than I, and her dedication, I have no doubt is what will guide us all though. I am worried by that sentiment I share with Templar Card; that inaction is frustrating. Was it not this, afterall, that spurned Vasten to the abandonment of his vows in the most terrible way? Perhaps I shall write a sermon on patience. We must plan each miniscule step with infinate patience and attention, and execute them just as carefully. We are in a terrible quandry; wary of politics, our oaths, our responsibilities, our sensibilities. Templar Kaeyna remarks that we must have faith; and indeed we must, but if faith alone were enough.. we may as well wish it all away! No, faith and wit. Wit and guile, these are what we must execute.
I am nevertheless attendant to my pastoral duties to the Templars - I fear Templar Kaeyna has taken too much to heart my unjust lecture on personal alliegances within the clergy.. she is obviously distant after whatever seperation transpired with Templar Card, and although I do not doubt it will have no bearing on her roles as a Templar in what must come now.. her welfare remains paramount, even in these dark times; something she seems to wish to push aside. I must remind her of this, more stridently yhan i before tried to, or perhaps speak with Templar Card on the matter. 

[Psyche]

Such wondeful strangeness. As Warden Ward says, how nice it is to see before the altar a wedding, instead of only funerals. The blessed union of Warden Draven and Templar Falon, the upcoming baptism of Sable before the sacred window of Ste. Mere des Larmes, the routing of the heretics from the Zeklos chapel (an event i remain woefully misinformed on - but snippets of rumpurs and conjecture) - can it all be good to be true? But we must not question these blessings whence they present themselves. I find myself wondering, however, has the crisis passed, or merely changed form? Do we now face the greater danger of an enemy unseen, desperate and unknown? I also wonder how long Sable and Vasten intend to keep their affection discreet, but that is a passing concern of no great import. I prepare for Sable's confession in preperation for her baptism, and ponder on what service i should best perform for the occasion. How blissful it is, to concern myself with these 'mundane' ecclesiastical duties, and not the continued existance of our very faith. I shall pray it lasts.

[Psyche]

Schema


By candlelight the Warden writes - his pen scratching the only sound but the silent voices of a hundred or more authors in their rows in cases, or stacks upon the floor. No breeze disturbs the undercroft of Ste. Mere des Larmes and its dozens upon dozens of silently burning wicks.

What surprise, for the venerable Bastion to make a visitation upon me. Or, did I always anticipate it to happen? In truth, yes, but not like this. The Bastion is stirred only by the gravest of events, so to have her attend the baptism of Sable Hart was unexpected. Sable has been welcomed amongst the fold, all the better, for now it seems I must work closely with her.
The report to the Bastion with Warden Ward took its expectedly esoteric turn - she has such time, afterall, to consider theology, to guess and guess again on history - a luxury I am not sure she realises not all have. I would love nothing better than to idle phillosophy, iconography, metaphysics, hermeneutics, but on the 'front line' of the faith such things are difficult to do. I would not accuse the Bastion of sitting in an ivory tower, but here, deep beneath the sainted cathedral, so insular, so far from the normaties of ecclesiastical duty, from the unexpected, can it be but expected she feels how she does? I do not belive she understands my inherent trust and respect for Warden Ward - to her she is zealous, dangerous. The Bastion represents the apex of my belief, so why do i not regret to be mired in such pragmatism that my role in Vallaki affects? Perhaps with the heretic Aleyi assailing their gates, they may be stirred, and know what it is to be a soldier of faith.
I choose not to consider much of the Bastion's task. She is disconnected; she does not realise the threat the heresy poses; to her it is something to be placed beneath a magnifying glass and dissected - penned to writ and understood, critiqued. Is she not wrong? If, as she says these words I took to be nothing than the scrawlings of a madman are infact based upon a blessed text, are they not worthy of investigation? She knew my answer, my inclination. Fortunate for her i am called to The Refuge of Fifth Light then, that i might be her little investigator. But I have told her, i have made my stand, and in earnest i intend to uphold it - i will exercise such discresion as the task demand, but if put in conflict with my hosts I will not hesitate to divulge what I have done. Warden Ward is dogmatic, yes, but not unreasonable. She too, is pragmatic - perhaps whom I learned it from.
For now, i must wait. Coiled, ready to strike at any passing cry of knowlege, any scarred manuscript, any shadowed conversation. Attentive, concealed, discreet.

[Psyche]

The Warden perches at a makeshift desk in his suite. Outside, the Port-a-Lucine mild autumn passes by, salt air blowing up from the dock, with it the sounds of the hustle and bustle of a seldom-sleeping city.

I cannot express the relief of my pounding heart, locked as I am in our new apparent temporary chambers. Relief that we did not have to face the heretics? That our late-night foray did not yeild results, however slim the chance of finding them was.. i was afraid.. afraid that, upon finding their coven, Winterlass, the hooded acolytes or whomever else may be dwelling within, I would have to defy Warden Ward's trust in me - bargain to keep her rom destroying the imorjii outright. I feared discovery, disclosure. What becomes of me, now, to what cost is the Bastion's task taxing me? In faith, in credibility. How much am i betraying the trust of Warden Ward and the others by withholding this from them.. for potentially working against the interests of our mission. 'Our' mission. I wonder too often how much the policies of the Refuge of Fifth Light are engineered by Warden Ward's sensibilities. What makes my task any less valid than hers? As I spoke to Sable, we must learn to see matters of the faith from one-another's perspective. I cannot have both discresion and disclosure - time will see which one i choose.

[Psyche]

Am I surprised to hear that Sable, Templar and Warden Draven have been dismissed back to Vallaki? I am unsure. Sable did display as troubled - though she denied it to be so, is supect she is suffering from the same dislike of inaction as affects us all, but feels more deeply this anxiety because of fear of the Eye - that she helped to create, and that it may have part to play in the downfall of the faith. Or perhaps she was dismissed for for her proximity to the heretics? Does she fear Sable is inclined to act rashly? Or that the temptation may be there to slip from grace? I feel no better myself for my midnight meetings with the heretic. Is that why I take to the night air? Because secretly I enjoy it? I hope it not to be true. I wonder how long she will remain civil and still accept that I refuse to accept her as a true Ezrite? Perhaps as long as i remain as civil to her as I have been doing. I am concerned as to how long I may maintain this pretense.. sooner or later Warden Ward will find my divergent goal, is it better to tell her now, and hope she understands?

[Psyche]

Another turn of the wheel. I would enjoy spending the winter months in Port-a-Lucine in its relative mildness, if it were not for the heavy weight on my mind. I too share Warden Ward's fear of the turning whell - that events transpire we may not be able to prevent. Her fear may be many times greater than mine; i am not even sure if she can conceive the possible consequences of the Wurtbeich Heresy being declared valid - she may simply shut down in horror at trying.
Ever more I see the signs of the heretic's cabal increasing.. this new creature.. one that seems not to share Winterlass' devotion to the faith, preferring instability and mockery.. claims to not even have been at Zeklos' Chapel. And the vocal heretics who prostrate themselves before the steps and call out obscenities to the faith - in the tongues of this very city.
Ward knows - or as much as I would tell her. She did not seem surprised that the Bastion has set me to task, nor reacted when I informed her it was to learn as much from Winterlass as possible. Why tell the truth when a lie will do? No doubt she questions me silently from behind her eyes. What would she say, think, if she were to learn how far this may take me, to whom I must go?
I make every effort now to locate their cabal, or cabals. I know they are taunting us they grow bolder each night I see them, or hear of them. I hear of their bloody rampages, but still the Gendarmerie expects us to keep them in check. I am eager to meet with this eluside Inquisitor,if ever it happens, to establosh what must be done; what I can do. I wonder still on the significance of the cathedral to them; they choose to pray here, and not amongst themselves; they process about its grounds, and what of Winterlass expecting the Rite to take place here? What has Wurtbeich told her of the cathedral.. why is it so important?

[Psyche]

What sudden stillness; as though I continue to run but find my legs swept from beneath me. I am in that moment before I realise it has ended; i am running no more. No more than an hour since our last discussion.. the acceptance of burdon, of duty, of theology as so often did our discussions turn that I leave Port-a-Lucine once again. Do I pity these circumstances? Yes. So much like the disadvantaged, confused and brutalised young men and women of Quater Ourvrier was Marle. I think Warden Ward sees it too now. I feel sorrow for that loss - mere sorrow that my one link to Wurtbeich's whereabouts is gone? No - that a mind so much alive, quite brilliant, suffered the brutalities of that heresy - the confusion. I pity her now as much as i do those young thugs - I can do nothing, but still I feel remorse for something I have not done.

Warden Ward fears reprisals. She fears they will come after me, that soon the cabal shall know she is no longer there, and that I am no longer there, and brave outlaw to come to her. I am not so sure. Winterlass' charisma is undeniable - charisma that fed the heresy, sustained it. Without her, how many were truely loyal enough to come to her? Or will there be another to step into her stead, take up the mantle of those men I have seen beat themselves before our steps, crying Ezra's love. Wurtbeich lives. The threat lives. Soon I will have to tell Ward I must go; that I am not yet finished.

For now Winterlass lives. It is my hope that what she carried did not represent the sum of her works.. desperately I hope there is more in her hideaway, that, in precicely what I wanted to avoid, much of her knowlege, that brilliant mind has gone to the grave with her. The Warden's gambit has not paid off - the plan was not going to change with my wishes, of course. But do I blame her? If I were the one with the means, would I not put my mission above another's? Ward is too lost in her sensibilities, she is afraid, and so acts quickly. But now it is passed.

Did I allow myself to be drawn in? No.. never did I reenforce the delusion.. the confusion. Is pitying the loss too much, though? Do I, through Marle, expose myself? Do I greive for lost knowledge, lost opportunity? Or for a mind, an insight, a conviction. A person. 

[Psyche]

Winterlass is dead. No, Winterlass lives. In the heart of Ezra now is she absolved of her sins; i feel it to be so. Warden Ward did not exaggerate the trying nature of the Rite. I have felt, far greater than any other time, second only to my own Trial the claw of the Mists of Death closing about my throat. Through faith have we brought about the reunion of the wayward soul and Our Guardian, and what is faith if it is not tested by clawed hands? We will commorate her as a sister, mourn her. I have felt such grace this day, witnessed such beauty. The glorious singing of our saints, the white light, the light of our Guardian, such serenity i have never felt, such trepidation. To look upon Marle, absolved, whole once more, such a beautiful thing.
But my task is not ended.

Once the service is concluded I must once again depart; new leads, new infomation. I have not yet found Wurtbeich, and ponder what I hope to find in Marle's lodings to spur me to this success, but perhaps there will be something. I hope to be returned to Vallaki safely and soon.

[Psyche]

My heart is heavy - too heavy to bear that i fear it may break and dash. So much failure, so much sorry, so much secrecy. Winterlass lives, restored to life in every facet I witnessed as Ezra took her to the Shelter of Peace, but her mind and faith remains perverted. To her, we are the fallen, we have trespassed upon her, when all our efforts, though it be a fraction of the horror of the Mists of Death; what i witnessed and endured for her salvation, her redemptions.. were for her. Yet /we/ are the Heretics, the blasphemers, /we/ are those in need of 'forgiveness'. I know what I felt that day; that glorious, wholesome light of Ezra's Grace.. Marle's return can have come about in only two ways, the thought of either shivers my spine and ties my stomach in unbearable knots. - Fell Deception, or Unreconcilable Truth.
But, how manifold is this event.. it shows to us the true faces of ourselves, and others. My own outrage, disbelief, unwillingness /to/ believe.. fear.. are these the traits of the Anchorite? No. Is Warden Draven's fire the mark of the Anchorite? No. Is Warden Ward's impotence found in the Anchorite? No. The Anchorite is a mask we wear; a character we perform, for underneath are we mere things of flesh and bone and spit.

And it is that being, and not the Anchorite that may feel loss at this parting of ways. The Anchorite knows that the faithful do go with Ezra in their hearts and at their sleeve, to guide and watch over them, but the man may know sorrow at such loss. Our family is diminished; Vasten and Sable have found one-another, and left us. I shall hope to see them again, but my heart knows that that teary farewell was the last one we shall share.

We have lost so greatly, as a family, as ourselves.. can I now in good conscience pursue Warden Ward's aims, when I am so fearfully confused? But this is not a time for doubt, for compromise. I may fear, fear for everything, but the Anchorite does not.

[Psyche]

The wheel  does turn. The implacable march of events beyond my control that continue to shape the options I must take; the directions i am to pursue. The things I have seen of late, wonders few Anchorites will ever see.. I long to return to that place, and by candlelight unravel its mysteries.. I fear, for fear is what I do feel, that it is the home of Warden Ward's suspicions.. the mystery of Ste. Mere des Larmes that does the Zeklos Heresy revolve around. The conversation held there too, weighs heavy upon my mind. I do move now, not of my own voilition but as the Bishop, or the Knight? Propelled by unseen hand to their bidding, move-by-move that the greater pattern of movements is kept from me. Perhaps the chess analogy is flawed, for as the Inquisitor said.. the colour is grey, neither white, nor black, neither friend nor foe, but both - the ever-deserving of suspicion: everyone.
But what of the Bastion? There is fear within the cathedral. Does Winterlass become as much tourist attraction as theological concern. I appreciate the Toret's apprehensions.. it has long been known the Bastion's health is in decline.. do I dare to think she may have finally begun loosing her grip on the world? That this great mind, that brought us Her most Holy Third Revelation, may be slipping? Confused?
I am afraid; i fear the power I may now weild and not know it.. or what part I might be assigned and not be awares. What will it be asked to do? What will I feel i should do? Will i make a latter decision, thinking it to be mine own when it is not? What do I risk doing, what have I already done? 

[Psyche]

A lie. Or the truth. Riendeaux, I remember the name that was spoken to me, deep beneath the sainted cathedral, a man undone by truth, or a lie? A heretical delusion, manipulation, or a profound notion beyond doubt, beyond negotiation that it did drive the faithful sanity from his person. I can see now, through eyes that never saw it.. by flitsome candlelight alone as the sacred green of his robe sways to and fro before the altar, creaking rope and the silent weeping of his friends and brothers. A man undone, by lies, or the truth.

And so I shall excercise a perogative. I shall question. I shall Inquisit.

I sit, upon my knee are two books, ostensibly dissimilar, but beneath these dispirate covers and typefaces are the same words; 'Temptation' - that controversial 'fiction' that seems to hold more than a warning tale in its fibre, if it is not a tool of the Inquisition then I have never seen one. I must guard my reactions may closely, Marle may have gathered from my probes that I knew of the text before it was presented to me before she had done so. We have read the subtext differently, as can be expected, but why do they care for us to see it? Is there a parallel between the winged deciever in that 'novel' and the winged deciever in the Inquisitor's anecdotes? And of this interest by the Balise? I cannot blame their interest, for Marle is the coincidental likeness of Her Visage.

I know Marle to have doubts.. the falter in her voice, grasping too, at these thoughts and notions she fails to understand. I wonder, if her mania has extended paramount? That from whatever discourse she believes to have had with the Mists of Death, the parallels in her dialogue and of the holy texts.. does she begin to believe in the most deluded and egocentric of heresies.. does she think she is Our Guardian, made flesh?

More. Dare I to beleive it? Even in excercising perogative the notion seems absurd.. a thought from a fleeting comment on a half-remembered experience. I have read the text again..

BLESSED BE THE HAND THAT SCRIBES, THE EYE THAT WATCHES, THE EAR THAT WILL GIVE HEED, THE LIMBS THAT WILL RUSH.

FOR THIS IS THE CLARION ANNOUNCING HER COMING, THE END OF ALL AND NONE, THE FINAL EMBRACE, THE BLESSED UNION.

EZRA WATCHED TIRELESSLY OVER HER FAITHFUL FEW, THEIR WORKINGS TRUE AND VALLIANT; YET FOR ALL THEIR EFFORTS, THE LEGIONS OF THE NIGHT STILL PREVAILED.

FOR EACH FALLEN REDEEMED, FIVE MORE WOULD BEFOUL THE WORLD WITH THEIR DEPRAVITY.

THERE WAS MUCH SUFFERING AND ANGUISH AMONGST HER SERVANTS. AND EZRA ANSWERED THEIR DESPERATE PLEA.

“LET NOT THE WAYS OF THE LEGIONS DAUNT YOU, FOR THEIR TAINT WILL GNAW UPON ITSELF, AND YOU WILL CLEANSE ITS DESPICABLE REMAINS.

BLACKEN AND SIN, ACCEPT AND BE SWEPT, FOR ONLY IN REVELING WITH THEIR VILE WAYS SHALL THE CLEANSING EXACTED BE MEANINGFUL.

FOR IF IN DEED YOU ARE FEW AND DISTRAUGHT; PURGE RELENTLESSLY THAT WHICH THE LEGIONS FLAUNT OPENLY, BEGIN WITH YOURSELVES.

Though I find the latter two verses still distressing.. left here does the text begin to open.. dare I to think it? That Wurtbeich's heresy is but three stanzas long? Appended to a true vision? Three stanzas, lost, unknown, may stand between the lie, and the truth.

[Psyche]

BLESSED BE THE HAND THAT SCRIBES, THE EYE THAT WATCHES, THE EAR THAT WILL GIVE HEED, THE LIMBS THAT WILL RUSH.

Record. Observe. Attend. Act.

FOR THIS IS THE CLARION ANNOUNCING HER COMING, THE END OF ALL AND NONE, THE FINAL EMBRACE, THE BLESSED UNION.

Referencing the Avatar Heresy? Ezra as the Time of Unparalled Darkness? The Shelter of Peace

EZRA WATCHED TIRELESSLY OVER HER FAITHFUL FEW, THEIR WORKINGS TRUE AND VALLIANT; YET FOR ALL THEIR EFFORTS, THE LEGIONS OF THE NIGHT STILL PREVAILED.

Pure-Heart's philosophy? Valliance not in keeping with other Revelations. Futility, Raine's Revelation?

FOR EACH FALLEN REDEEMED, FIVE MORE WOULD BEFOUL THE WORLD WITH THEIR DEPRAVITY.

Continuation of Raine's themes.

THERE WAS MUCH SUFFERING AND ANGUISH AMONGST HER SERVANTS. AND EZRA ANSWERED THEIR DESPERATE PLEA.

Ezra as the divine benefactor, the guide. Emphasises desperation, where other texts have the guiding, defending role of the Anchorite

“LET NOT THE WAYS OF THE LEGIONS DAUNT YOU, FOR THEIR TAINT WILL GNAW UPON ITSELF, AND YOU WILL CLEANSE ITS DESPICABLE REMAINS.

Clear seperation of the virtue of the Faithful and the ways of the Legion, and the role of the Faithful as vanquisher of the Legions. Compromise of Second and Fourth book philosophies relating to the Legions. Erudite philosophy towards the Legion?

BLACKEN AND SIN, ACCEPT AND BE SWEPT,

Accept the ways of the Legion and be carried away in the cleansing?
Accept the ways of the Legion and be carried to Ezra?

FOR ONLY IN REVELING WITH THEIR VILE WAYS SHALL THE CLEANSING EXACTED BE MEANINGFUL.

Concerning. Continues to state the distinction between the Faithful and the Legion. To fight the Legion we must understand the Legion?

FOR IF IN DEED YOU ARE FEW AND DISTRAUGHT; PURGE RELENTLESSLY THAT WHICH THE LEGIONS FLAUNT OPENLY, BEGIN WITH YOURSELVES.

Remove from ourselves that which the Legions use; deception, doubt.

[Psyche]

Does the Holy Relic swim colours of its stained glass upon the most ancient of rubbles and cobbles. How the sea in spring sings salty notes upon the air. I look from the parapet of the Cathedral at the brightly-liveried Gendarmes, and remember a time when I wore that proud uniform; how duty and purpose was a path set so clear before me. I see the students and professors and agitator-poets and recall my years at the University; how there, too, were my responsibilities laid bare, without room for negotiation, space for doubt. I see the bright coats and dresses of the well-to-do, and wonder if Marle is anything more than a curiosity, a passing fancy like so much in their lives. I have never believed ignorance is bliss.. but I do not think they know better.
Though I cannot see it, I imagine Marle and Lilindi, side-by-side in their cell, praying silently, and imagine their imagining of being once more before this sacred window. I imagine, come nightfall the throngs of white-clad pilgrims, bearing torches and candles that bare vigil to her incarceration martyrdom.
I think now, upon the terrible place the irresistable dance has brought me; where the path I have taken, and must yet take is dark beneath my feet, or swept from it entirely. I shall pray for illumination, redoubled, as I pray every day. I shall pray Ezra shows me the way.

[Psyche]

I have rested, and reflected. After days of wakeful vigilance I relished to lay my head upon a pillow and sleep soundly, without fear of interference from the wholly unpleasant 'Vincent'. My arms still ache and bruise from the hours upon hours, perhaps days I spent resting upon those bars to my cell, waiting. I would, now, still be scolding Warden Ward for her lack of vision and insight - how can she not see the danger of permitting Marle to be tried under civil law will end only in a disaster. But our hands are tied, what are we do to, violate the law? Warden Ward will never stand for it.
Exitus acta probat. Is that what I have become?
I am ashamed to think i ever wore the uniform of the Gendarme, to think that I might have falled under the will of such an orgre and ass as the Capitaine.. but I am filled with hope to see there is still decency, honour and pride in that uniform within the ranks.
I will not dwell on my incarceration; how the vitrol of a supposed member of the Faith would condemn an Anchorite to incarceration, deprivation, death? How was she to know my freedom could be bargained for?

I may now begin to digest what I have learned. Winterlass can manifest a sheild, though it causes her great physical distress. It seems even prayer causes great welts to open unbidden upon her flesh and bleed profusely. Does Marle still believe this to be her saintly burdon? No Saint has been tortured so, for faith, for anything. Is this what we see of Ezra in The Lawbringer? The punisher, of the defiler, the heretic? I cannot in good conscience believe it, that Our Guardian would punish Marle so. The Mists of Death still cradle her, though does not know, nor believe. I must prepare for the courts, if ever the event comes about. I shall pray the Courts exercise the wisdom not to execute Marle - they cannot make a martyr of her.

[Psyche]

Listless summer night; windows shuttered and bolted throughout the city, the salty whisper of the sea wind travels the streets and alleys of Port-a-Lucine, bringing young and old, rich and poor, dull or witted, their nightly dreams. Warden Poisson tosses and turns beneath his bedclothes, his dreams of a distressing variety.

The sword of the author does cleave the unfit mind from the worthy. Do many scholars perish in the page-turn of a book, and hang themselves with ignorance.


A noose of my own; the quick drop; the sudden realisation. To strangulate; choked in knowlege, an instant eternity. The worthy mind endures the choking, faith perseveres the quick drop.

[Psyche]

How deep does this mystery go? I can feel the walls of this intellectual prison, the focus of my attention, draws me into the pit of ignorance to the depth of realisation


If I am found wanting, who will judge me?

[Psyche]

Templar Falon is correct, I am guilty expecting others to conform to my expectations of myself. But is that not parenting? Is that not the role i am, surrogate father to this family? And yet, I have failed Templar Kaeyna in this role of mine. Why this recurrance, over and over do we bridge the subject, yet she seems unable, or unwilling to heed my words. I am ashamed of her, yes, that is the word i shall use. Ashamed. How does a Templar of Ezra, one who has sworn an oath to a family, to a cause, reconcile her duties as Templar and her childish desire to flee to a dreamlike paradise. I cannot imagine such a hellish place.. without doubt to guide us.. without obstacles to shape us. Childlike ignorance, no, i cannot imagine a worse hell. It is not dereliction of duty that concerns me, the Templar has yet to understand that a broken heart is, to the role and duty of temple guardian, as useless as a splintered sheild and shattered sword.

[Psyche]

I have reassesssed Templar Kaeyna's role with us. She is not a fighter, she is, at heart, as innocent as a child, thrust too early into the harsh, cruel reality. I have been unjust, unfair, and even cruel. I shall confess. I have encouraged her to pray, forget the directions in which we have pushed her; we are guilty of attemtping to force her into a mould for which she was meant. But she must appreciate the varied roles we must play - guide, healer, defender, diplomat.. spy.

[Psyche]

Seldom little has happened since my release from incarceration; until now. The civl trial of Marle Winterlass has been concluded; she and Lilindi are free once more to roam the streets. Perhaps it is for the best; this way we have avoided making a martyr; or sequestering the problem where we would be unable to tackle it.
La Rochenoire; the name of my mysterious sponsor? No longer do I feel so much as the pawn, motivated from afar by the machinations of my unseen masters.. no.. now am I the promiseful but sluggish pupil; the unsatisfying. This.. LaRochenoire, he lectures, he encourages, but keeps his hand close, i believe he finds it.. amusing, when I challenge him, question him.
The key to the catacombs rests in my hands; i feel its weight, far beyond that, it is the burden of knowlege, it is the weight of every tome in those catacombs; of every madness and death therein induced. I am the sum of our knowlege, I am the killer of Warden Riendeaux, I am every peril and evil of the written word.
I wait for Lekvarest, anxious. But why? Have I not dealt day in, day out, with individuals whose corruption and confusion is apparent? Perhaps it is precicely that; that these are members of the fringe, the Zeklos refugees. My Lekvarest contact is not; he is respectable, ranking. Perhaps he has a wife, children, a long and proud career in the service of Our Guardian Ezra, but the man is a heretic, he was unable to bear that burdon of knowlege. Will I be the one to dispatch justice? Am I Ezra's arm, as it cleaves the despots from the Faithful?
And so in waiting I have synthesised. I have brought copies of Iorga's journal. I have brought copies of the vision transcripts of members of the Refuge of Fifth Light's clergy. There are too many thoughts intertwined with the facts.. It is almost impossible to pull from it the system of events.
The Eye is a fell device; no construction of human flesh and magic can be used to benevolent purposes; I am dissapointed that Winterlass seems to have been so led astray as to believe that it could be. The Eye is the machination of the Seductress - The 'Angel of Ezra' so apparent in this, the first apparent heresy in our history - a being conjured from Mists through summoning circle. The parallels between the corrupting influence of the Seductress, or the Eye and Wurtbeich's own foul history are striking. Are the Whip and the Seductress characters in league? Vasten's vision suggests so, but I cannot be sure. The Seal, containing the original Eye was brought to Ste. Mere des Larmes - but has since been removed, by individuals in league with the Seductress. Was this the cause of Riendeaux's death? Failure at his sacred task of protecting the Seal?
I hope that, in Lekvarest, I may learn more. Seek out in their collections relevant texts; scour for a single mention of these names, of the Seductress, of something, anything, that may bring more clarity to this jumble of infomation.


   

[Psyche]

Demon



Something is happening. More and more now, do I see members of the Wurtbeich heresy to and fro, walking the city with impunity; they are bold, convinced that we cannot touch them. Marle's predeliction with the Rite of Revelation is as apparent and perhaps stronger than ever. May this be the cause of her secretive late-night appointments with members of her apparently heretical laity; that she is once again training Anchorites; she expects the Rite in the forseeable future.
The expansion of her mania is worrying; she has become.. frenetic, obsessive, single-minded. How can she fail to see the deeper heresy she professes, that Ezra has compelled her by entering her body and controlling her actions. Madness. Insanity. Heresy.
Given Lilindi's testimony, and reading the works of the late Dr Richten on the topic, I am convinced, more than ever, that Marle is subject of a demonic possession, likely the Seductress character.

[Psyche]

In the space of a few days have I come into possession of a wealth of knowlege; a tempest of names and facts and stories from which a truth may yet be distilled, I must organise my thoughts before they threaten to fly apart and vanish into this summers sea breeze.
My sponsor, the Inquisitor, is not La Rochenoire, no, for he appears to be a Zealot, as Veritas, who is now in Port-a-Lucine and has had audience with my sponsor and I. I am at least grateful that my sponsor agrees that Veritas' impotent rage is best kept away from our affairs. I hardly care for his attacks, the man is rash, hot-tempered and distressingly dense. He has, however, furnished myself with some names, of individuals in Barovia from the formative days of the heresy; perhaps these persons may be valuable assets.

I must commit these throughts to words now, before they fly apart into the salty summer's air.
What I have found in Lekvarest bears no obvious resemblance to the current climate of heresy; but I am fast dismissing, through my past experiences, coincidence as an explanation for events. It is only a matter of time, and insight, until the link between the Wurtbeich Heresy and the Antonin Conspiracy becomes apparent.
Perhaps it is because of this the gravity of this revelation - the providence of which is hard to question, has yet to sink in.
The Antonin Conspiracy; the silence, long ensconced in the history of my church that puports the death of Saint Antonin a fell accident, and not the doing of Choirmaster Kristovich by most distasteful means - and that keeping this shame a secret seems to have been worth the silence of so many lives, the involvement of so many high-ranking members of the church. Is it this secret that was Father Riendeux's killer?

[Psyche]

The demon. Like the Stranger, the Trickster, the Femme Fatale, it conventionally possesses the same powers to seduce, confuse, beguile, convince.. but its intent is the most dire of all the common folk characters. Where the Stranger is the manifestation of a typical fear or outsiders, the Trickster of our own devious natures and the Femme Fatale of the male fear of the woman, the Demon is the manifestation of our rage, hate, misplaced anger. It is the evil that lives in our throats and bellies to which we might divert the debased acts commited by ourselves to something wholly /unhuman/ and alien, and thereby make them understandable.

I can now see what Inquisitor Veritas' interest in the Madrigorian was. Though I have only seen excerpts, the likeness of the excerpts from the third book, and the dogma of the Wurtbeich heresy is nearly identical. Blacken and Sin, accept and be swept. It is beyond uncanny, it is chilling. If Dr van Richten's work on fiends is reliable, then the Madrigorian demon is this 'Drigor' - a particularly festersome apparition not in keeping with the 'Angel of Ezra' - nor with Eawan the Whip, nor indeed seems to share much with the possessional tales of the anchorites of Castle Fennore, nor Marle's possession.
Its involvement, however, seems apparent, and the Madrigorian's account seems to give more credance to the possibility Marle has been possessed.