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Lore Book: Monk Gehru's Memoir
🕑 Added 2022-04-05 18:51:21 +0000 UTCBefore the tragic dawn of the Fourth Avihm, there were so many Virmari. Although we didn't usually have children, we were largely impervious to age and disease. And so we had each other. I was particularly close to Luvic and Daydra, who were aides at the Kiln. As I was stationed far away from them at the ancient abbey, now Fort Nimahj, I only spoke to them via letter.
We wrote to each other very often. Luvic kept a log of all the puns he could sneak into the services he ran for the people of Firtied and would gleefully report on particularly idiotic wordplay he managed to hide by his stern mannerisms. I would tell him about how many words starting with the same letter I could fit into my services, and he got a kick out of that.
Daydra and I would usually talk about what it really meant to serve the Goddess. Although we usually disagreed, we were always civil. Sometimes, one of us would even change our mind. Our most fundamental difference of opinion was about the use of violence. Daydra felt that targeted use of military force could pave the way for greater peace if it was directed at the most hateful and dangerous individuals in society. I felt that any violence was wrong, and that any soul was redeemable upon careful reflection and purification.
It was a particularly cold week in North Tharxax when my usual correspondence was interrupted by a single, ornate letter which was delivered via a special caravan from Firteid. To my surprise, it was addressed by Vahid, the warlike Grand Pontiff of Perfection and Master of Insohm.
It bears mentioning,much hatred, at the time I had no idea about his duel with the Moonsworn or his misdeeds. Vahid was simply an important and hawkish Virmari with whom I did not see eye to eye.
The letter was surprisingly long, and far more familiar than I would have expected given the very limited prior relationship I had with Vahid. It spoke of his great sorrow, and of the Goddess's fear and derision. It told the story of why She felt that Drehmal was no longer worthy of Her divine efforts. And it informed me that She and most of the Virmari, including Daydra and Luvic, would be leaving for someplace far away, likely never to return. To put the proverbial icing on the cake, Vahid recognized my desire to be a kiln attendant, and ordered me to live an ironic mockery of my former dream- to run the Kiln of Virtuo as the only member of the Grand Parish remaining.
Stunned and heartbroken, I must confess I immediately lost my lunch. Surely, I felt, there must have been some mistake. How could the Goddess have truly decided to abandon the Drehmari? The land itself? Me?
I bid a sudden farewell to all my parishioners at Tharxax, leaving the little church I had built in the hands of a reliable Drehmari called Armut. And then I made a beeline for Firteid, only to find the great city in mourning. I learned that on Virtuo's Audience Day that week, no Virmari nor the Goddess herself were seen. The halls of the Grand Parish complex were empty, and devoid of all personal effects.
Weak in the knees, I prayed to Virtuo for strength and cried for what felt like two weeks straight in the quiet altars of the Kiln. I met occasional hermit Virmari remaining in the realm who had heard the news and offered condolences. Although I begged them to stay and helped me rebuild, they soon went on their way, preferring to follow their own path.
Eventually, I found strength, and gradually purpose returned. If Virtuo needed to leave, it was surely to help some other people in far more need than the Drehmari. And she had chosen me as her sole representative in Drehmari affairs! Putting aside my lamentations, I began rebuilding the Kiln according to my own views with Virtuo's blessing. I attempted to draw on the open-mindedness of Daydra and humor of Luvic as I set about my work.
The first thing I did was order the dismantling of the old Grand Parish. I had come to hate the
warlike and vicious role it had begun to play in global affairs. I settled for a small cottage near the Kiln for myself and fellow devout Virmari and Drehmari monks at which we could live while teaching. Similarly, I encouraged the people of Firteid to form a representative government instead of ruling as a tyrant.
All of this has worked, to my immense satisfaction. The faith of Virtuo continues to thrive throughout the realm in cities, towns, and rural areas alike. Firteid has continued to have its ups and downs through the decades, but it has settled on a constitution which appoints a council to make policy and run its affairs. That has been a lot of stress off my plate! And the monks who live at the Kiln have become dear friends. We talk every night about the ways that Virtuo shows her love. The orderflame lanterns still have not burnt out!
There is much left to do, so I will stop this memoir for now. A businessman from Firteid plans to open a hotel on the Eye of Vir itself!
Luvic, if you read this, have a tellingly totally terrific time touring my tasteless tiny town!
