Prayers of the Adorned of Ilmater

[kleomenes]

A simple, unadorned, leather bound book lies in the Ilmateri sanctuary. It is open for the public to view, and is consulted often by the clergy. Within it, there are written prayers to the Broken God.

((This is intended as an RP tool for Ilmateri characters to record their prayers and rituals, so that we can share "holy wisdom"! So please feel free to post. I'll periodically add my character's prayers as I use them IG, if they are worth saving))

[kleomenes]

Written in a neat, practiced hand.

Tethyrian in tradition and rumoured to date back to the domination of the Shoon Imperium, which would make it a thousand years old. It might actually come from a later date, though, given its confidence in the eventual overthrow of the tyrants.

The Wanderer

He came in from the Wilderness, seeking out his purpose.

He looked upon the legions fighting against a throng of rapacious goblins. In close order; united in duty; hearts focused; a barrier between the weak and the cruel. Their swords were sharp and their discipline firm.

And He looked out over the battlefield when it was done. The soldiers tired and weary; the moans of the wounded; the tears for fallen comrades. He saw the victors losing a piece of their souls as they punished the vanquished. And He wept.

He came to the village, to look upon the people.

He saw the ordered arrays of farms, crops growing all in a line. The diligent peasants, serving faithfully; working hard. The officials inspecting well maintained roads, collecting taxes and ensuring order; in fealty to their master.

And He saw the lean forms working in the fields, their bent backs and mean rations. Their slave fetters. He saw the mandate of service unbroken by the coming sickness; and full tax coffers and empty bellies even as the plague reaped its own harvest. He saw the loyalty in the eyes of the officials. And He wept.

He came to the tower, to view its master.

He looked upon his court, where a scale of decision hung by the throne. The master sat anointed: speaking this way to direct the people; speaking that way to punish the guilty. The master's stern voice directed to keep the peace; the master's cold heart governed by reason.

And He saw the supplicants brought in, humble and cowed, free men still yet still their spirits chained; their hearts fearful of reproach; their hopes and dreams all dependent upon the master's choice. And some of those brought in had chains on their body, too; they had refused the yoke, and to those, he saw the master's pitiless edict. They wept as they were dragged to the door, and so did He.

He went through the door.

And He looked out over the rods and whips, the screws and racks, the chains and shackles. The Maiden's casket; the Wheel. He smelt the fear in the air and saw the blood on the floor. And he said 'I know my enemy'.

And they all learned chains could be broken.

[kleomenes]

Written in a neat, practiced hand.

Calishiite, translated from the Alzhedo. The Adorned of Calimsham have a more passive tradition, and this is a short lyric about redemption. It is attributed to Saint Ramedar, who is said to have swayed a cruel Pasha to the Broken God's faith with nothing but quiet words of counsel.


Chains of greed bind;
Hunger's bite inspiring grasping hands;
The Judge offers choice;
The Righteous teach how to choose.

Chains of hate bind;
Burdens endured only through Fury;
The Judge offers choice;
The Righteous teach how to choose.

Chains of fear bind;
Suffering's whip removes compassion;
The Judge offers choice;
The Righteous teach how to choose.

[kleomenes]

Written in a neat, practiced hand.

Uncertain provenance; I learned the words in the Seminary of Saint Ostus in Tethyr, but they were foreign. The priest who shared them with me said he thought they might be Lapaliiyan, although I confess I am entirely unfamiliar with that land. In any event, the theme is to inspire the Adorned to be tireless in their duty, as the Broken God is.

He wept for the hungry;
He wept for the sick;
He wept for the lost;
He wept for the broken;
He wept even as the rains fell, and as the sun parched the dusty earth, and as the moon shrank to a sliver;
And he said 'I will be there'.

[kleomenes]

Written in a neat, practiced hand

A mantra originally spoken amid monastic orders devoted to the Lord on the Rack, such as the Broken Ones and the Sisters of St. Jasper of the Rocks. It has passed into more general usage. The mantra is focused on the various emotions arising out of grief and loss, which Ilmater accepts; and shares. It is recited at morning prayers, at the commencement of meditation; alternatively individual stanzas can be spoken at opportune moments of weakness.

Loss

A beast

With rending claw

It gnaws my soul

Pain


Loss

Hunts me

A ceaseless pursuit

I flee before it

Denial


Loss

I defy

Clad in fire

Burning the helping hand

Anger


Loss

I beg

Caging the anguish

Questions for the past

Desperation


Loss

I stumble

On liquid ground

Realities made of sand

Doubt


Loss

I endure

Never truly alone

He shares my burden

Faith


Loss

I own

Carrying the past

Stronger in the future

Peace

[kleomenes]

Written in a neat, practiced hand

Universal words shared with those new to the faith. Often repeated.

Persevere in the face of pain.

Heal the sick, the wounded, and the diseased.

Comfort the dying, the griefstricken, and the heartsick.

Take on the burdens and the pain of others.

Champion the causes of the oppressed and unjustly treated, and give shelter and kind counsel to the lonely, the lost, and the ruined.

Pursue the service of Ilmater, and he will provide—leave gross riches and the acquisition of all but medicines to others.

Take up the tasks no others dare.

[kleomenes]

Written in a neat, practiced hand.

Words spoken when the novice becomes Adorned. His words.

Help all who hurt, no matter who they are.

The truly holy take on the suffering of others.

Suffer in His name and He will be there to support you.

Stick to your cause if it is right, whatever the pain and peril.

Stand up to all tyrants, resisting in ways both great and small.

Allow no injustice to go by unchallenged.

There is no shame in a meaningful death.

[kleomenes]

Written in a neat, practiced hand.

A parable on the subject of error, often shared with paladins of He Who Endures who seek atonement or those of the Adorned who struggle with the burden of human error. It uses the heresies of the Mad Priest, the Archsufferer Bloirt Waelarn as a backdrop, and is said to have been composed by the Adorned of Mussum itself, to honour Sir Holenhand's resolve to undo his mistake.

Sir Holenhand knelt before the Archsufferer and heard the command. "The heretics of the degenerate house of Mussum have lost their faith. They are mad in their minds! Their knights laid hands upon their fellow Adorned!" Sir Holenhand's brow furrowed at thought of the crime. "Cleanse the filth!" the command came, and Sir Holenhand answered, leading the Brothers of the Cup to war. For he knew not that it was the Archsufferer who was mad.

Sir Holenhand looked up at Holy Hill Farm. The banner of the Noble Heart flew proud over it, and the heretics lay inside. And he gave the order. "No injustice must go unchallenged, even by those we once called brother! Onto the walls, Knights of the Cup! Onto the walls, Knights of the Bleeding Shield! Onto the walls, Warriors of Suffering!" The Noble Heart did not ask for quarter, though; and the fighting was bitter.

Sir Holenhand looked upon Bronsheir's Charge, as the enemy's bravery finally broke upon the reserves. The wedge of heretics selling their lives so their Brothers might escape. He heard their prayers to the Broken God; saw the purity in their sacrifice. And he wept as he gave the order. "We have Endured, Brothers! We are Unbroken! Now we end this!" And it was done.

And Sir Holenhand looked out over the Weeping Rock, stained with the crimson tears of the fallen. He looked upon the broken pennants and shattered shields, upon the Bloody Rack's sundered, a Golden Cup filled with the blood of Noble Hearts, his bitter victory. "True sufferers all." He said, and he knew his error.

And then his judgment fell upon the mad priest.

[kleomenes]

Written in a neat, practiced hand.

A prayer spoken at times when faith seems hard, when the sacrifices of duty weight heavy. Although it is originally Damaran, it spread long ago and has perhaps been modified in its travels. This is the version I was taught in Tethyr.

Set aside the cup;
Thirst will trouble you no more;
Ilmater provides

Set aside your greed;
Hunger only in your soul;
Ilmater provides

Set aside desire;
The body chains pure spirit;
Ilmater provides

Rebuke avarice;
No wealth adorns the faithful;
Ilmater provides

Rebuke anger;
Fury is foe to healing;
Ilmater provides

Rebuke your fear;
Death is the gate to his side;
Ilmater provides

Shoulder your burden;
He shares even bitterest pain;
We walk together.

[kleomenes]

Written by myself, Brother Ameris Santraeger, after a moment of severe spiritual crisis in the winter of 1349 DR.

Ilmater the Wise, Ilmater the Merciful, Ilmater the Enduring, hear my prayer.


I ask for wisdom,
Guide me through this blinding storm;
Thanks to you, I see.

Ilmater the Wise, Ilmater the Merciful, Ilmater the Enduring, hear my prayer.


I ask for mercy,
Forgive my most wicked sins;
Thanks to you, I breathe.

Ilmater the Wise, Ilmater the Merciful, Ilmater the Enduring, hear my prayer.


I ask to endure,
Share freely your divine strength;
In your name, I rise.

[kleomenes]

The work of an unknown author in Implitur. Some say it was written by a priest there in celebration of a treaty with Thesk. Others say it predates the founding of modern Implitur, instead being written by an Ilmateri knight lamenting at the fractious civil strife that fell over the country.

To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
All pray in their distress;
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.

For Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
Is God, Ilmater dear,
And Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
Is Man, his child and care.

For Mercy has a human heart,
Pity a human face,
And Love, the human form divine,
And Peace, the human dress.

Then every man, of every clime,
That prays in his distress,
Prays to the human form divine,
Love, Mercy, Pity, Peace.

And all must love the human form,
In friend, in foe, in you;
Where Mercy, Love, and Pity dwell
There Ilmater dwells too.

///credit to William Blake!

[Unka_Oogie]

Prayer of Monastics Militant of Ilmater

O Master of Mercy and hope for the hopeless,
Instill into me this day the spirit of mercy and forgiveness
To bestow likewise, myself, upon those who, in their wretchedness,
Mete out cruelty upon your helpless and suffering children,
So that all may come to bestow mercy in your manner.
Or failing that, guide my feet to kick their sorry butts
From the Sword Coast to the Sea of Stars
And back again.
This, I ask, as your humble and loving servant.