Supplicants (Backgrounds)
Supplicants
A holy-person in training, often descended from the priestly caste, though some who show special affinity or walk in the steps of a God can be accepted into these ranks. This covers the worship of the three major Gods, except the Thunder God and his Powder Priests, which fall within the Black Thumbs background.
It is expected that every devout individual will acknowledge and pay respects to the other Gods as well as various mythological heroes. However, most fear the Thunder God, and to speak the Un-Mother’s name is seen as calling forth death.
Jackal Witch
These primarily, but not exclusively, female priests handle the sanctification of food, births, ritual sacrifices, and much of the healing of both beast and man. You work in dedication to the Jackal Prince, Mother of Monsters, and once-concubine and daughter of Father Thunder. You often accompany hunters in their duties, blessing their hunt and seeking the finest sacrificial beasts or medicinal herbs.
No one stepped in as you stared at the bound mutt and her bloated belly for far too long. You recognised in her eyes the same horrified expression as the woman who requested your aid. Unfortunately, nature always demands a toll for life that can be paid only with death.
Finally, you drove the bronze dagger into the mutt’s heart, using her blood to draw sigils upon the woman and her belly that had just started to swell.
Her pains left, and in time you helped deliver the child alongside the priestess. It was a bloodier affair than usual, according to her, but one that both mother and babe survived.
When your jitters passed you asked one last question:
“Are all baby boys born with such sharp teeth?”It was met with silence.
Lightning Justiciar
You are a Justiciar in training, charged with maintaining laws while supporting the martial activities of the clan. The Lightning Cult views outside spirits as suspect and is often involved in efforts to destroy or drive them away. Your cult depicts the Lightning Prince as a lithe girl wearing mismatched and oversized armour while wielding a kanabo, taken as the primary weapon and execution tool of the Justiciars. Should you succeed in the Ranging Rite you will become a full Justiciar, while in failure you may be relegated to a more passive priesthood.
You watched as the thief’s mouth was stuffed with bitter herbs and red dirt, his head pressed hard against the chitin slab by two supplicants. The wretch seemed intent to leave this plane with as much grace as he exhibited in life.
The commune swayed in silence as the High Justiciar held the kanabo over the central firepit, a Clay Seer etching the sentence into one of many chitin tablets decorating the club.
The High Justiciar marched somberly to the execution slab, the jangle of her ornamented knee-length dreads competing against the man’s muffled pleas to puncture the silence. Finally, the kanabo shattered skull against the slab.
In that moment, you saw the kindness of the ritual. A new fire burned as you witnessed the Lightning Prince’s justice delivered on the undeserving. A purposeless life given a divine ending, as blood seeped into the script declaring his sentence, sanctifying it and cleansing his kin of their failings.
Blue Speaker
You are a supplicant to the Drowned Blue-Faced God. Your cult desires nothing more than to seek out, commune with, and appease the spirits of the wilds. Unlike the Lightning Cult, this priesthood has made strides in understanding spirits and even developed a rudimentary language called Blue Speech to allow communication. They also enjoy special favour among many spirits due to their role in preparing the deceased for Sky Burial. The living enjoy catching glimpses of this priesthood for a different reason: their role in brewing wine and organising feasts. Should you succeed in the Ranging Rite you may be initiated as a full Blue Speaker, tasked with befriending ancient spirits and uncovering long-buried lore known only to the wisest of souls.
The older supplicants carried the body to the mountaintop, binding the wrists and ankles to the funerary chitin slab. Even if you had been strong enough, your hands were occupied by a hefty mallet and stone chisels.
The birds watched as you readied yourself. The priest, painted blue, sang the deeds of the deceased through wine-stained lips as you set about your work.
First, you drove the chisel through to his heart and wrenched apart his ribs. With this, the spirits could see beautiful thoughts and grand dreams stored within, and the birds sang with appreciation. The priest then handed you the drunken stone knife, soaked in the last of the summer’s berry wine. With this you opened his scalp, unburdening the corpse from perception, allowing the spirits to see through those wise eyes. Then you removed the tongue and each finger with practiced cuts, preventing any malevolent spirits from expressing themselves through the empty vessel. You cast the fingers and the tongue into the sky, a good omen that those spear-callused fingers and song-heavy tongue would be well received. At last, as the other supplicants filled the empty mouth with bitter herbs, you cut from just above the navel down through to the loins. This freed the corpse from human constraints of discipline, allowing it to return to its nature as a beast to be fed upon by others.
You visited the site frequently in the following weeks, and each time saw a little less of the man. You found yourself feeling closer to him than any kin, despite having broken open his chest on your first encounter. When finally there was no flesh left on the carcass, you swore that you saw his soul rising to join the Blue Feasts as bird eggs hatched within a nest of shattered bones.
One day you hope to make as fine a feast for the ravens and crows.