Conclave: The New Arch-Bishop (Open to relevant posts)

[Holy Marsh]

OOC- Posts in this thread may take any form (aside from warfare). Just a reminder that the goings-on of the debate of the Conclave itself are unknown to any outside of it. TG or ask if you have an idea involving that.

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The Conclave So Far

When Arch-Bishop Lainika made her intention to die in the arena known, it spurred a flurry of activity, the most important of which was the summoning of the Conclave. The Conclave was a special summoning of all Shrine leaders, the Cardinals of the Cardinal Council, and head Bishop representatives. It had only one goal- the selection of the next Arch-Bishop. Each Shrine would submit a single candidate, and the candidates could be any member of the Shrine. Some Arch-Bishops had been Cardinals of course, but many had been low-ranking Sisters, Praetors, Artistes, Fathers, and a list of more specialized titles from across the spectrum. Preparation for candidacy was a major responsibility of Shrine leadership. Most candidates would only be informed of their possible ascendancy once they were made a candidate, or even elected. This was by design as much as anything.

While the Shrines all had internal and external politics (any organization of their size or age would!), they still held true to their ideological and theological beliefs, and the Conclave was designed for these to be put to the test. Time would be spent in debate. Sometimes the Cathedral Floor would be engaged in one, but other times the First Cathedral would be home to dozens of smaller debates in side rooms and the great halls. In time, however, each Conclave would reach the same conclusion.

First, a candidate would gain enough support that their Shrine would call for a vote. If a candidate achieved a notable plurality of the vote(usually considered around a third), then the Shrine could use this as theological ammunition to remove minor candidates. Then they move on to larger ones, using their growing support to try and achieve the end of the Conclave. Eventually, a candidate is elected by a unanimous vote. When it becomes clear one candidate has achieved a clear path to victory that cannot be realistically stopped, even fiercely opposite Shrines will fall in line given time.

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The Conclave's first day had been more or less a series of formal encounters. All 55 Shrines submitted their candidates by right and tradition to become the Arch-Bishop. any dropped out in the first hour. This was a common occurrence during the Conclave, as many knew they had no realistic shot at the position and instead moved their support to other Shrines, in the hopes of improving their position in the future. Others at the very least put up a more spirited resistance to their fate, attempting to achieve the increasingly unlikely and impossible. By the end of the first day however, sixty percent of the candidates had either been retracted, removed, or otherwise defeated and out of contention.

That left twenty-two candidates, a large number to be sure but not as unusual as it seemed at first. After all, the Theocracy was no longer in the Long War. It didn't need to elect a leader in an emergency scenario either, as Lainika had given her notice of intent a week before the day of her violent abdication. These combined factors meant that many Shrines that otherwise would have fallen in line with dominant theology felt that it was time to make a bigger impact on the Theocracy than they had before.

Of course, that didn't mean they all operated on an equal playing field. The Conclave was a body that believed fully in the Divinity of Momentum. The size and influence of a Shrine and how this was maintained and allowed to grow played a great role in how they viewed each other and themselves. Marshism was a faith of many interpretations, and dominant interpretations or those with great growth were viewed as divinely favored. Some Shrines were larger, more influential, had formed alliances of import or otherwise had dominant positions. Others were members of coalitions or otherwise smaller Shrines that nonetheless felt a righteous need to state their case. The net effect? A few Shrines stood above the rest at the Conclave.

The Female Shrine had risen from a popular but otherwise non-noteworthy Shrine to the most successful of all Primacy Shrines in the Theocracy ever since the events of The Shift. It was the head of the most influential intra-Shrine political faction and had the greatest momentum. The Non-Human Shrine was vastly more influential than before, with the rise of non-human species and the revival of those once thought lost bringing more and more under its banner. The Warrior Shrine was considered essential to the Church's structure and would hold eternal importance. These three stood above the rest, but nineteen others made their play. Over the course of two days, a few more would fail to make progress and would succumb.

The Moon Shrine and Sun Shrine, engaged in their own eternal squabbles, essentially removed themselves from the competition as part of deals with more major candidates(Female with the Moon and Warrior Shrine with the Sun) to secure their minor goals against the other. The Endless Shrine found its complicated series of theological arguments to fall on deaf ears and was offered an out by the Experience Shrine, which it gladly took as day two came to a close. The Decadence Shrine was rejected in due time by most others as being truly representative and had to form an alliance with the Experience Shrine. The Magic Shrine, after securing its position as a viable candidate, switched its support to the Non-Human Shrine as part of a deal discussed between the High Council and the Claws of the Non-Human Shrine. The Pacifist Shrine surprised many by sticking it out through the first three days, but on day four it finally collapsed against the endless barrage of theological abuse and fell into the Commune Shrine's camp. The Sea Shrine managed to survive long enough to field offers from all three major 'frontrunners', and eventually took the one offered by the Female Shrine. The Science Shrine was the next in line to fall, though in throwing its support behind the Engineering Shrine it hoped to aid an ideological sister.

By the start of day five, only a select few remained and the scrutiny grew tightly focused. The Draconic Shrine had done well by establishing a strong base of support in Korrodos, but it decided to assist the Non-Human Shrine in its bid after a series of promises were made i late-night meetings.. The Crusading Shrine was never seen as a truly viable threat yet it had persisted, its passionate arguments gaining purchase on a few before it was finally kneecapped and brought into the fold of the Warrior Shrine. The Singularity Shrine agreed to a plan proposed by the Engineering Shrine and Science Shrine to join forces and helped release a joint theological rebuttal of more than seventeen thousand statements that had been made against them in this and other Conclaves before joining the Engineering Shrine. The Combat Shrine had never really presented a challenge but its simplistic theological beliefs had made it tough to crack until it came under fire by the Warrior Shrine, who earned the Combat Shrine's support the only way that either would have respected- by force. The Ponyist Shrine was the next easy domino to fall, having resisted attempts to subsume it before a statement secretly sent by its candidate was revealed, denying a desire for the position. It threw itself in with the Non-Human Shrine.

The end of day six saw the largest surprise of all. The Experience Shrine, with its own support network and a realistic shot at the position, announced that it had agreed (with consultation from those who had supported it) to step down from contention and threw its support behind the Female Shrine. As the Conclave ended its session for the night, it was widely expected that Cerisa Alahana would be able to claim at first a majority of support and then force the issue until an End was achieved.
Something happened that night, however. A great many talks were held between the representatives of the Shrines. Cerisa went to call for a vote but was challenged by the First Claw of the Non-Human Shrine on a number of theological grounds. The ensuing debate lasted for over fifteen hours but after all was said and done, the vote was not held and the destiny of the position was once more in doubt.

The Female Shrine is still the most powerful Shrine and has the most dominant position in the Conclave, and it took exemplary oratory from the First Claw to truly dent its once impeccable armor. The Non-Human Shrine has been buoyed by reports from across the world of its great popularity, giving it the ability to argue for itself not just from a theological ground but a diplomatic ground. The Warrior Shrine is considered unassailable in its doctrinal purity and importance and will never be removed from import. These three are still the frontrunners, though it is considered a far closer affair between them than many would have pegged it at the start.

There are still others. The Commune Shrine's doctrinal simplicity, strength, and national import due its practices have made it a strong contender. Whether it truly has the fangs for the fight to come is to be seen, but it has emerged as a real possibility. The Engineering Shrine, buoyed by its support from the Science and Singularity Shrine, offers both theological and practical solutions to questions of material and spiritual concerns and has been able to put itself in a very strong position. The Artists Shrine has emerged as a shockingly strong Shrine, resilient to the many attacks lobbed against it. The Meritocracy Shrine was widely respected and always put in a good showing, but would it be able to make a final, surprising push to victory? The Primitive Shrine, once a minor Shrine of little importance, had become an aggressive player due to its recent momentum. Most had doubts that they would be able to resist for much longer, but stranger things have happened for much weaker foes.

And so day eight of the Conclave dawned, and all sides prepared for the next round of battles over the position of Arch-Bishop.

The Arena of Saint Turrasa
District 25, Mar’si, Grand Theocratic Empire of the Holy Marsh
07:00 AM

Day eight of the Conclave was the final day Arch-Bishop Lainika would draw breath.

It had begun at midnight. She had made her entrance and by decree had banned any great fanfare or introduction for her. “Arshita Lainika, Holy Warrior,” was all that came out of the arena’s loudspeakers as she walked barefoot out onto the stone and sand of the arena floor. The fifty thousand in attendance did their part, however- cheering, chanting, but for the most part, prayer. Endless prayers from many Shrines and from the core joint texts. That was as she willed it. Her death would come with prayer, and what a death it would be.

Not for her was bending the knee to the systemic memetic contagion that had been unleashed upon her during the Long War. Her prodigious physical form, indomitable faith, and crushing disinterest in acknowledging the works of the Great Enemy disallowed it any import in her life. Yet despite all the methods available to the Holy Warriors, in time it made advances on her. The Medical System of the Church at large could have cured it, but the Holy Warriors did not trust it. It was not something that was fully understood or could be fully replicated. As such, she refused to use it.

That meant that when she was given the news two weeks ago that her infection had spread to nearly all parts of her body and it would soon cause her cellular structure to collapse, she knew what she needed to do. She needed to die doing what she had been very literally bred to do- kill the enemies of her Faith. So she decided to die in the arena, killing the POWs of various anti-slaver wars that were awaiting Final Processing. She would fight and kill and fight and kill and fight and kill kill kill kill until she breathed no more and in this explosion of violence find the only peace someone of true faith could ever really achieve.

The two weeks that followed could be described as chaotic by those who had not grown up with fields aflame and shell as sustenance, but Lainika found it all rather trite. Her final orders, her last two mass services, a flurry of proclamations and orders and the workings of faith and state. It was nothing compared to a true, final martyrdom. She went into the arena with gladness in her heart. That and, of course, a sheer and unrivaled contempt and loathing for all enemies of the faith and especially slavers that night,

She had given orders to summon one-thousand POWs. Her one rule for them- they had to have been in uniform when captured. They needed to provide a real challenge. The Arena Masters would then organize the rest. They were released to fight her alone (if they were considered to be superior fighters), in pairs, or even four at a time depending on skill level. Most were given some manner of combat knife and she would have her kukri. The same kukri she had been given nearly seventy years ago as a child and then buried in the chests of numberless cultists in her youth.

After signing a few more declarations of wars and other less important documents, she made her way to the arena. She stripped off all decorations of her office, released her guards, and made her way to the arena with only a single Holy Warrior- a lifelong friend- as her guard and guide. The Militia had ensured a straight path to the Arena which was difficult in the best of times, and worse now. Of the twenty arenas, Saint Turrasa was chosen only because it was the closest. It didn’t have the largest capacity and a number of them were newer and better for international broadcast but she didn’t truly care. She just wanted to kill some fucking slaving scum one more time before she died.

And she would. After she had entered and after the customary prayer, the combat began in earnest. First came the pairs. No great difficulty. She was older but she had experienced a lifetime of war before many people took their first drink. She didn’t unsheathe her kukri for the first hour of the fighting. She snapped necks, disarmed her opponents and turned their weapons on themselves, brutalized them with disabling strikes before leaving them to die paralyzed, and otherwise had a relatively breezy time. Then some individual fighters who were far more competent. She got some bruises from a number of them and it was during one of these encounters that she finally pulled out her kukri.

After a Ralkovian Death Guard Colonel fell dead at her feet, a number of quad teams and duos were sent against her. Her kukri worked like a charm. A sea of heads, limbs and viscera- a chorus of screams and prayers. The arena was her cathedral and her gospel was fire. Singles. A few cuts this time. When a DWI Corporate Liason and Security Official Executive fell without his head, it didn’t land on the ground. It was a pile. The blood flowed through the grates like rivers. More importantly the pathways out of the gates became difficult and it was decided a five minute break was in order. The pathways needed to be cleared so the combatants could have a clear field of view and movement. Fairness!

Alternating teams and singles followed. As four in the morning rolled she started to feel the effects of her combats. A few of the cuts bled well though not in any truly dangerous fashion. Punches, kicks, chokes and other strikes had landed in bits and pieces over time. Her body was pushing over seventy years of age and she had not slept. The disease was ravaging her stamina. Still, she fought. It wasn’t until five in the morning that her thread was nearly cut the first time.

It was, well enough, a Cultist Berserker, his tongue cut to prevent his blasphemic memetic contagion from spreading. Normally they would have been killed on sight but he had been discovered in some backwater by the Inquisition just as she was looking for proper opponents and he was immediately siphoned off. Berserkers were in many ways the Cultist Holy Warrior. They were bred in their blasphemic fashion by the Ceremonies of the Cult to provide for that filthy, unholy series of heresies a soldier for whom pain was unknown, dog-like obedience was expected, and whose very flesh was a weapon. She had killed a few in her youth and she had made sure to include one tonight.



But she was not that young woman and it was after five hours of combat that they engaged. He was a battering ram with a gator roll, a mountain gorilla with a poisonous surface. The fight with him lasted nearly fifteen minutes. Blow after blow rained down on her. She found herself on the defensive, taking whatever small chunks she could off of him. She could not decapitate him or indeed cripple him to any great extent. Chip, chip, chip while avoiding his thundering blows. She couldn’t do so forever, of course. He crushed her against the side of a wall. She felt her entire jawline fracture underneath a punch. Her rib cage snapped to a stomp. He finally died, his hands around her neck and nearly shattering her trachea even as the life left his vile body.

She was given a few seconds to regain herself before the next pair was sent in. From that moment on for the next hour or so she acted purely on instinct. More cuts. More bruises. A knife wound to her leg. A deep slashing cut on her cheek. Around six-thirty there was brief excitement when someone was thought to have cut her throat, but it was indeed false. As the seven o’clock hour rolled around, she engaged someone well beneath her abilities in a lengthy duel. For many reasons- wounds, the increasing inability of her body to keep up, lack of sleep, many other negative ones as well- but also to regain some of her energy. It was clear that she had little left to give, but give it she would.

It ended when she twirled out of her opponent’s arc and her kukri found purchase in his skull, his own strike having barely missed the top of her head. She pulled it out with some effort and he fell to the ground, dead. Once more the arena had become a hellhole of flesh to navigate. So was she. Lainika could feel everything draining from her. Every breath was sent crystalline, shocking extensions of pain throughout her body. Her chest radiated pain- lungs, shattered ribs, and a heart that was certainly trying to murder her. Her jaw was furiously disconnected from the rest of her structure. It moved separate of her head, held together by fleshy bits. Her skull was fractured. Her brain screamed for release- for death, for sleep, for rest, for anything- not knowing whether a strike was occurring or whether her fractured consciousness was simply that scattered. Multiple organs were bleeding internally. Her cuts streamed blood and painted her crimson on top of crimson, dried blood caking her and allowing the new coat of blood settle ever higher.

Most who saw the combat expected her to fall within the hour, and that bet seemed like a good one to Lainika herself. She would not have her life for long. Sadly for her opponents, she would continue to sell it off in installments and reap from them payment in excess, in blood, in death, and would die having paid her share of the blood debt of all mankind.

The gates opened.

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Mount Mar’si
First Cathedral Tunnel System
Mar’si, Holy Marsh


Cerisa Alahana, Cardinal of the Female Shrine and frontrunner for the position of Arch-Bishop, watched one of the several dozen televisions that had been installed in decades previous. As the next competitor charged across the crimson field of the arena towards the Lainika, broken and deadly as she was, Cerisa couldn’t help but feel an immense sense of joy. How lucky was Lainika to find her end having brutalized so many Slavers and Heretics in the immediacy of her life’s extermination? That was a gift from the Holy Marsh Herself, blessed be Her Name and Ways, no doubt.

It was a nice return for the gift Lainika had given her flock. The announcement had given the Conclave time to form and debate before her death, meaning that the time drew near when Cerisa would be declared the Arch-Bishop. The Cardinal Council would be in charge of the affairs of the Theocracy for only a few hours, or maybe a day or two. Many times had it been that the Arch-Bishop’s death had been sudden, and the Cardinal Council forced to rule while the Conclave made its decision. Luckily for her, that meant she could ably project her power into the Conclave as one of the few Cardinals in attendance.

It had worked in her favor and she was easily the most likely candidate to become Arch-Bishop. She had a great many allies to bolster her strong position but that did not come without challenge. Indeed, she had been greatly wearied by a vigorous and intense debate between herself and the First Claw of the Non-Human Shrine. After fifteen hours she had been forced from her attempt to call for a vote in her favor. It had been great work by the First Claw. Sebastian, the Second Claw, was another likely candidate and a worthy intellect. They had done well to increase his influence and she considered him a very potent foe, the worthiest of all.

He was not alone, though she had come prepared. Her large room of stone and cement was in use by two dozen other attendants who had come along with her. They were all experts in various fields, primarily theological and language, diplomacy and organization. Their primary job was to work over the theological arguments being presented and formulate deconstructive attack strategies as well as supportive angles and theologically potent arguments for her candidacy. Others would meet with potential allies and form alliances with other Shrines, hoping to earn their support over time. Everyone had done well, but there was a lot of ground left to cover.

Sebastian and the Non-Human Shrine were her primary concern, but Ochasta and the Warrior Shrine would always present her with problems. Sasha and the Commune Shrine...she didn’t think they had the fortitude to win. Then again, she had said that about them getting this far. Prala and the Engineering Shrine proved to be competent but Cerisa was confident she could fold them in time. She didn’t think much of the Artist’s Shrine and their chances but she could at last acknowledge the audacity of their existence so far into the Conclave. The Meritocratic Shrine had been as tough as expected but she was confident that their candidate’s unusual nature would see to its defeat. Same for the Draconic Shrine- tough foe? Perhaps, but she believed that her arguments were infinitely stronger than theirs.

The light next to their large metal door changed, signalling the Conclave was back in session. Cerisa rose from her seat just as Lainika killed her next opponent to the pleasing chant and prayers of the crowd.

The door opened for Cerisa. The gate opened for Lainika’s next opponent.

[AHSCA]

Communique from the United Island States of AHSCA


For centuries now, the UIS before formation and currently regards the nation of Holy Marsh as a close friend with many cultural ties that date back ages between our nations dominate faiths. With the high presence of Marshite communities and clerics living within the UIS and vice versa we can imagine the selecting of a new Arch Bishop to lead the people in the years to come is going to be a long challenging one. With so many sects all having their own desires and needs to be met, and hoping to see their Shirne become the shrine that leads Holy Marsh it will like any political change of the guard come with a lot of back and forth.

Of course, AHSCA will continue to work and support Holy Marsh into the future for time to come to the best we can within the limits of our laws established more than two decades ago thanks again in no small part to the Marshites who supported us in our quest and desire for independence. Non-human, female, male, primitive, modern, whichever sect becomes the rightful holder and we expect this transition will occur in the traditions and spirit of the Marshite traditions. I, Duchess Marcella Villa, the second crowned Duchess of the UIS do not to wish to show any endorsement to one candidate, only our general support to the next Arch Bishop and the UIS continued relations with The Theocracy going forward. Our continued relations will be strong going forward.

To always as always our future together,

Duchess Marcella Villa

[Holy Marsh]

Mount Mar’si
The Conclave Chambers

The Chamber was an enormous cavern in the mountain, long since hollowed out and fortified. Over time it would be modernized and adapted to fit the will of the time, though in the center stood a rock structure that was untouched and revered. It was where the First Prophet, the Orator Grande and War-Leader of the Mar’si, had died after the Revelations of the First Scripture and the Ascendancy of the Mar’si tribes over five thousand years ago. The still-gleaming arsenic-copper sword inlain with gold and silver that was stuck in the rock remained in perfect condition, attributed to divine will as a reminder to all who would enter of the grand legacy of the Faith. The acts and decisions made in this room would echo throughout history, and so they must be led by Faith and Faith alone.

Sebastian always took stock of the sword when he entered the Chamber. While it was modernized in many ways- the vast semi-circle tables were constantly replaced with better ones and had all manner of communication and display equipment in them, the walls were lined with screens from various governmental departments, and a number of televisions and broadcast equipment had been hauled in so they could view the arena combat together- his eye was drawn to the sword. It always would be. It was a monument to immortality and the glory of their Faith writ small. He wasn’t sure he would ever be worthy of being the Arch-Bishop but just as the Prophet didn’t choose to be the Prophet, Sabastian knew that the Claws of the Clawed God would act properly regardless of his own desire. If he were to be the Arch-Bishop, so be it- what a wondrous one he would plan on being.

He followed the First Claw Nauscar Surialia, his direct superior in the Non-Human Shrine, out into the chambers. It was unusual for Sabastian to be here when it was in sessions. He was often in the backrooms, meeting with other Shrines and trying to work out differences and deals. He had reason to believe today would be decisive, and so would the First Claw. That helped make sense of bringing Sabastian into the Chambers. If the work that had already been done would snowball one way or another.

Sabastain took his seat. As was their custom, he would answer questions that were asked and would involve himself heavily in the theological defense of the positions his Shrine had taken. As he was not the one who put himself forward as a candidate however, he would not be the one arguing most persistently for his ascension to the position. That was the responsibility of the First Claw, who began their day with a shared prayer among the Non-Human Shrine. "Through clutch and egg and womb, to talon and claw and razor teeth, we thank you for your gifts and ask for your strength once more this day, so we may carry your commands forward through any storm. Tasar Mar'si, The Clawed God, your hunt eternal," they finished quickly before Nauscar smiled. "Sabastian," coo'd the Tigris, "have you seen the message from AHSCA?"

The communique from AHSCA had been a nice boost to Sabastian's mood. There were many involved that were a little chagrined that there was any manner of leaks in regards to the deliberations of the Conclave, which were normally kept secret. But as far as Sabastian was concerned, it would be impossible to keep the Conclave's internal debates kept secret for too long. The Theocracy now had many allies and parties interested in its functioning, not to mention an explosion in the number of Shrine and Church news agencies. Combined with the number of people involved in the Conclave- attendants and guards included, there had to be over fifteen hundred people- and it was an enivtabaility that the flow of the Conclave would leak out. He was sure that intelligence agencies and people in power with interest were trying their damndest to keep abreast of what they were saying. For his money, he was happy the first they had heard of had been AHSCA. The non-human change in that nation had been the first large domino to fall in his Shrine's path to power. Others had followed but it was AHSCA where the non-human Shrine found itself oriented towards explosive growth.

"I have, First Claw. Think it will upset the others very much?"

Nauscar smiled a predator's smile. He didn't know if it would, but he certainly hoped so. The Female Shrine was wild enough to likely not care- they had benefitted in their own way in AHSCA- but anything that could cause some of the stricter Shrines to become unnerved was fine by them.

Speaking of, Ochasta chose this time to yell.
"We are not sure who it is that has decided that Lainika's martydrom does not deserve center screen, but rectify this! Praise be the Martyr!" Ochasta yelled, his voice of grace and honeyed tones brutalized through his innate aggressiveness. Somewhere, someone listened and the center view screen turned on as Lainika sized up her next opponent. "Remind yourselves of martyrdom every moment. Your duty, your responsibility- martyrdom! Those who do not respect this fact are not worthy of the position. Praise be the Martyr!" He bellowed once more, playing against voice type as he was assured by others of his correctness. He was armored and armed in his full regalia as was every attendant and aide around him. Sabastian nodded. For all of Ochasta's boisterousness he was completely right. Lainika's Martyrdom needed their respect. For a few minutes many milled about as the heavily wounded Lainika slowly dispatched her opponent, letting him bleed to death and giving herself some time to breathe as best she could.

In time though, they had to begin the work once again.
A loud bell was struck and two women stood up at the front of the chamber entrance, having remain seated and silent. They were the Cardinals of the Monotheistic and Polytheistic Shrines, the Shrines upon which all other Shrines were truly subservient. Their Shrines could never lead- indeed, it would make little sense since the question of how many gods there are was rather inconsequential compared to what it was that the Holy Marsh demanded of their lives- but their position as being considered foundational Shrines gave them immense power. Almost every Marshite subscribed to some degree to the Monotheistic or Polytheistic Shrine. That basic belief structure- whether the Holy Marsh was the One True Goddess or ruled a Pantheon- was divided along every line. The First Claw believed the Clawed God was the One True God. Sabastian believed that the Clawed God was the Great Ruler of All Pantheons. The matter was important to many religions- to Marshism, far less. In any case, the Cardinals of those two Shrines ran the Conclave as impartial arbiters. And so when they spoke, all listened.

"We shall honor Lainika's sacrifice and rejoice in her Martyrdom. However, we must begin the day's deliberations," started the Monotheistic Cardinal.
"Yesterday, the floor was ceded to the Engineering Shrine when the session was called. Today, we shall begin with their remarks. Engineering Primus, you may begin," finished the Polytheistic Cardinal.

"Thank you," an elderly woman said as she rose from her position. She was flanked by representatives from her allied Shrines, a clear show of the nascent alliance that had been formed. "Yesterday, we engaged in a vigorous debate regarding the Holy Work of adaptive biology and biotransferance, the generational aetherical changes involved, and historical theology and its enumerative impacts on sociology and industry in the name of the Holy Marsh. These topics were indeed very important to the theological groundwork of the claims put forward by the Female Shrine and Non-Human Shrine. We would like to continue our six-thousand point refutation of the central tenets of these philosophies as well as continue our previous claims to the Great Building. Point four thousand ten through thirty seven are in regards to..."

Sabastian took a drink. He would never several before this was over.

[Cartoonia]

Telegram:
The Democratic Republic of Cartoonia Department of Foreign Affairs
10/19/2020




To Whomever it may concern,

The Democratic Republic of Cartoonia celebrates their neighbor’s freedom to choose their leaders to lead the governments to an age of prosperity. Though we have not established full relations between our nations, we will gladly give support. Especially during these trying times as the world faces a pandemic of unprecedented proportions as well as for Cartoonia as she faces the threat of war. We choose to support Rebecca Khana, The Voice of the Generation in the Artist Shrine. Seeing how she is a patreon of the arts just like us.

We hope to see these elections free and fair and its outcome as it should be intended.

Thank You,
Supreme Leader Jimmy Kudo
Chancellor Nigel Uno
Attorney General Conan Edogawa
Secretary of Foreign Affairs Raphtalia Iwatani

[Holy Marsh]

The Engineering Shrine continued to speak at length, though such was the rather flavorless language of fact that as they went on many found themselves going through a checklist of other things. Not out of disrespect mind you, though it could easily be interpreted as such. It was just a necessary task, and as Saerea was reading the notes that had been taken by one of her servants on goings on, it was revealed that another nation had released a public statement on what was supposed to be a private affair.

How was news of their deliberations and candidates leaking out so much? At least this time it pointed to Rebecca. The Artist’s Shrine had been boosted in several places, Cartoonia one of them, and that had done wonders for her own portfolio. Still, it wasn’t a bad thing The Shrine was widely liked and Rebecca herself was very popular. No real harm had been done.

Saerea listened with growing frustration as the Engineering Shrine prattled on. Her servants and the Shrine High Priest both looked on in bemusement as they reached the end of the long, long document. It was mind-blowing that for all of the facts and figures and counter-arguments contained inside how little it had moved anyone. It was an excellent showcase of the strengths of that alliance, how all three Shrines worked together to create a factually impenetrable barrier.

Sadly for them, this was a question of faith. Saerea stood up as the polite applause ended. In between the end of the Engineering Shrine’s arguments and her own speech, another victim fell dead at the hands of Lainika and her kukri.

She waved her hand dismissively at the Engineering Shrine. “And we see once again the folly of this thought process. This world is more than the sciences, and by cluttering your mind with nothing but them you have done nothing other than showcase the true weakness that will overtake us. You have spoken at considerable length, but where are the allied accolades? You are barren with your support outside of your alliances,” She asked, her razor-tipped words doing much to bury under the skin of many, though her primary targets were too clinical to respond. She knew that. She was playing to others at this point.

She looked at the monitor in front of her, even though she had never turned it on. Instead, she opened up the latest Scripture and held it aloft.

“Look to our scriptures, sisters and brothers. Look to our *newest* scripture. It calls for a return to who we are, what we are, who we used to be, what we used to be. Written by the Prophet Samantha Orlatang, overseen by Lainika. It speaks of our five new guiding lights. I do not disregard the legacy of Saint Gurtruia of the Female Shrine, who was called out. I do not disregard the grandeur of Saint Wolfhaven of the Assassin Shrine, who was called out. I would never even fathom disrespecting Saint Turvail of the Engineering Shrine,” She said as an olive branch to her foes. They were enemies today and friends tomorrow. Bury the bitterness of their guaranteed defeat before it had time to rot.

“But two of those Saints weren’t just members of the Primitive Shrine, they were mighty members of my own familial dynasty. Who here would deny the legendary victory that was Saint Faerea Yuana’s capture of the Three Kingdoms of Stone and Fire from the Lardite Cult-”

“Death to the Vile Lard!” Came a chorus. It was repeated two or three times by the majority of those in the room.

“-or the pure righteousness of Saint Koerea Yuana, and his formation of my dynasty and the pacifying of the Six Hundred Tribes? None. Who here would deny the holiness and greatness that is our scripture? None,” she said with gaining ferocity.

“Who here can, in good faith, argue against such a divine message? Who here can argue with such clarity that I am chosen by divine right to be Arch-Bishop? Argue against me, only so that you may argue against the will of the Holy Marsh Herself. Argue against me so you can perpetuate the lies you have been led to believe. Your modernity, your sciences- they help us kill our enemies, but they do not lead us to righteousness. Only by observing the past do we become holy, as our newest Scripture says,” she ended with a great deal of applause.

Cerisa responded quickly, starting even before the applause ended.
“We do not deny that there is a message in that passage from our latest scripture. Nor would anyone disagree that your dynasty has a special role to play in our future,” She said as she got up and started fiddling with her monitor.

“But we have agreed many times on another divine message. Another divine event. The Shift. Now, it is true that in many areas of the world there were additional evolutions. The First Claw has been expressive in his belief that it was a stark message from The Clawed Goddess. But what was the one universal change?” She said, a pregnant pause filling the room as she hit a button on her monitor.

Images of the feminization event that happened during The Shift flashed on every monitor not in use by Lainika. Many were handpicked to be sent to those who had been changed, reminding them of what had happened to them. As the images rolled on, she continued.

“We all agree that this was divine. We have all agreed on this many times. It was a divine event without the ability to debate its meaning. We live and breathe this meaning. You have spoken about how clearly you are divinely mandated to lead, yet you never even bring up the most drastic and overwhelming divine event of our lifetime!” She ended with a stab of a button, and the images ended.

“If your argument is that you are destined to be important, I’d agree. But the Holy Marsh spoke loudly to us through The Shift, and we would be denying Her in totality if we ignored such clear evidence in favor of interpretations of text. We have her Actions- they speak louder than our own frail interpretations,” she finished to her own applause.

As she did so, a gate opened for Lainika and two more opponents appeared.

[Holy Marsh]

Mount Mar’si
First Cathedral Tunnel System
Mar’si, Holy Marsh

As the debate continued, several things became clear. The Engineering Shrine has come far and gained a great deal of respect from Shrines that otherwise may have forgotten it, but even its close alliance with the Science and Singularity Shrines proved unable to breach that final barrier. For all of its facts and figures and clear reasoning, there was a degree of faith, of passion, missing. The Engineering Primus had consulted with her allies and when it was clear that the path forward for them was blocked, they knew what they would do.

“I demand the floor briefly,” she said, interrupting the ongoing debate as she stood up. “The Engineering Shrine withdraws its candidacy. It is now submitting its theological arguments in support of Cerisa Alahana,” the Primus said, the theological groundwork of Cerisa’s candidacy being flashed across every console station.

There was a brief prayer and applause before they were interrupted, this time by the Artist’s Shrine. They were broadly similar in position as the Engineering Shrine and faced now the same decision. The Artist Suprema stood up. “We understand why you have made this decision, as we face the same fate. We formally withdraw from consideration, and we throw our support behind Sasha Luboski,” she said with an extravagant bow before sitting down. The same applause and brief prayer took place, as Cerisa and Sasha both tried to hide their smiles.

OOC: AT THIS STAGE ANY VOTE FOR REBECCA KHANA WILL BE TRANSFERRED TO SASHA LUBOSKI. ANY VOTE FOR PRALA SARDAKA WILL BE TRANSFERRED TO CERISA ALAHANA.

[Holy Marsh]

Mount Mar’si
First Cathedral Tunnel System
Mar’si, Holy Marsh

The Warrior Shrine hated to admit defeat, but it knew better than to hold up the Church in this task when there were much greater callings to be met regardless of who won. After consulting once more with the cadre of Political Assault Theorists and Strategists, Ochasta stood as the Meritocracy Shrine and Female Shrine were engaged in another theological squabble. "The Warrior Shrine has withdrawn its candidacy. Praise be the Martyr-Bishop Lainika!" He yelled out, then returned to his seat. The Conclave burst into activity as background forces started to consolidate their offers and proposals, and his Shrine was no different.

As the smoke cleared from the toppling of one of the three pillars, the reshuffling of support began in earnest. The Warrior Shrine and the Commune Shrine had worked together at length during the Long War and were considered staunch allies in many areas of the state. It was only natural that as time rolled on by that almost half of all those who had thrown their support behind Ochasta came to support Sasha. A smaller but still significant sum respected the rise of the Non-Human Shrine and Sabastian, who was one of the last true war heroes of the Long War, and fell in line behind him, giving his slightly flagging campaign for leadership some extra support. A scattering of supporters arranged themselves behind Yuana: While all Marshites valued prowess in battle, the Primitive Shrine had always greatly promoted these ideals, since the very early days of the faith.

OOC: OCHASTA LU'BUR HAS DROPPED OUT. ANY FUTURE VOTE FOR HIM WILL HAVE A 1/2 CHANCE OF BEING FOR SASHA, 1/3 CHANCE OF BEING FOR SABASTIAN, AND A 1/6th CHANCE OF BEING FOR YUANA.

[Holy Marsh]

Mount Mar’si
First Cathedral Tunnel System
Mar’si, Holy Marsh

There had been a run of chaos after Ochasta had left the running. With only five candidates left, everyone seemed like a real possibility, at least for a while. Sabastian and Cerisa were the headliners of course, but throughout the campaign Saerea had made a very compelling case. She was a growing favorite of many of the old guard regardless of Shrine. Sabastian had his support among them as well, but found his coalition the broadest of all. Maybe it was because he was seen as a moderate in opposition to the extremity of Cerisa, whose radical nature was well-known. Still, she spoke with recent events at her back and was proving the strongest even after earlier setbacks. Sasha's coalition was not as broad as Sabastian's nor as well-defined as Saerea, but it also lacked the edges of Cerisa's positions only on the surface.

That left Stan and the Meritocracy Shrine. It had done well to come this far. It was quieter, more studious than the rest, and this often meant it was overlooked. To boot, their candidate had openly declared his desire to not be elected due to his own perceived inadequacy, and to undergo a trip to Solisia. this has the opposite intended effect. Many knew of his history and knew him to be highly competent. If he were equally humble in his role and lacking the ego that would see him make foolhardy decisions, then was he not tailor made for the position? It got them far.
But not far enough. They had their support but the Shrine knew that it was not enough. It would never be enough. Their candidate didn't want the position. Even if they survived further, few of the Shrines that supported other candidates had indicated a willingness to support Stan if their preferred candidate failed. It just wasn't in the cards and while the meritocracy Shrine hated to admit defeta, it knew better than to allow pride dictate their pragmatism. And so as the Primitive and Commune Shrine engaged in a light debate, the Meritocracy sent a flash message to the Conclave indicating that they were withdrawing, and the five became four!

OOC: Stan Raynard's 30 votes have been redistributed in the following manner: Sasha Luboski 9, Cerisa Alahana 9, Sabastian Trudacan 7, Saerea Yuana 5. Any further votes cast for him will have a 30% chance of heading to Sasha, 30% of heading to Cerisa, 20% of heading to Sabastian, and 20% of heading to Saerea.

[Holy Marsh]

Mount Mar’si
First Cathedral Tunnel System
Mar’si, Holy Marsh

It had been an excellent go of it and Saerea was not willing to let go easily. She believed herself destined to rule, considered herself and her bloodline destined to rule. She had run the Dynasty in Pushania with aplomb, no? How many scientists had she convinced to abandon their Shrine? How many mathematicians were left dumbstruck by what human muscle and will could construct deep, deep in the jungles? her dynasty was powerful. It was her family's armies that held the line in the Seventeen Campaigns of the Trakmark, and had withstood the Soul-Tearing better than any other. Was she not destined? The thought burned her. Damned her. But for all of that, she knew when she was beat. For now, anyway. After watching all avenues dry up, and as the grouped Conclave watched more fighting, she gave the signal to her aides. They waited a few moments, equally dumbstruck that she had failed to win. She was considered an outside by many, yes, but not by herself or those close to her. After a belated nod in reply, she stood up and made her her way out of the chambers. Her aides stood up, and the youngest deigned to speak.

"Queen Yuana has withdrawn," she said, her adolescent voice stark and broken against the chorus of stronger voices in the conclave. With a bow, the delegation left as those who had supported Yuana started to once again flow to other, better options. The feeding frenzy would begin again, and this time with those few remaining waiting with baited breath to find out who was now going to support them. Those who were finding new people to support would find the offers and negotiations far less chaotic but even more pointed than before. There were now only three candidates left. No more room for second guessing. No more room for throwing your weight around in search of a deal to promote yourself to an underdog. The time was rapidly approaching that a decision would be made, and they all knew it.

Cerisa watched another obstacle in her way finally concede. It hadn't been that long ago that she had tried to end this Conclave and call for a vote and she was almost ready to do so again, now that so many had finally fallen away. Her survival to this stage shocked no one. She was confident she would win this thing and finally take her place as Arch-Bishop. Sasha Luboski- a name that frankly no one had truly considered before this began- sat there with her stone faced, warm kindness that had beguiled so many with her history of competence and good cheer. It was an act, of course: No one could run the GDS without making harsh decisions at times. But that competence and her belief in the ideals of the Commune Shrine, her belief that its issues could be solved, were infectious, and spoke to a kinder side of Marshism that desperately wanted out. Sabastian for his part was also well liked, even if he wasn't such a brazen idealist. He had spent much of his time blocking worse candidates and ensuring they arrived in this exact position. It had been rough, but the Non-Human Shrine was more than in play: It was in a near dead-heat with the others. One non-human, two humans. One man, one woman, and Sasha. It would soon be decided.

"Let us pray," Cerisa started with a lupine smile, joined in the act if not the mirth by all others, "for guidance in this path we now take..."


OOC: Saerea Yuana's 37 votes have been redistributed in the following manner: Cerisa Alahana 14, Sasha Luboski 13, Sabastian Trudacan 12. All future votes have a 1/3 chance of being redirected to any one of the three candidates. The current vote total is Cerisa Alahana 56, Sasha Luboski 55, and Sabastian Trudacan 54.

[Mokastana]

Tolas, Suria
7:30 PM
The Starlight Tavern

Tina Sanchez was her name, and selling alcohol was her game. She ran the Starlight Tavern with her three brothers and had always wondered what her best day would be. Post-election troubles? Sporting event? She didn’t really have a clue. She did like to remind her brothers that after The Shift they had seen better business than ever before. Helped that they frankly looked hotter than she did. They were chagrined at first but as members of the Mercantile Shrine the love of money did a number on any lingering doubts they had about it being a good thing. Still, while she saw bigger days after that, she never had one day that she felt truly, wonderfully overwhelmed by the day’s events.

Well, that day was today.
The Arch-Bishop of the Marshite Theocracy was dying, and it was being broadcast on every channel the Theocracy had as well as a large number of networks across the world. It had started at noon and it was still going at seven thirty at night. The Arch-Bishop was a ragged mess of sinews, blood, and ferocity, but still she fought. It was a long, impressive showing. It had also been a long, highly successful day.

Marshites across the PUF, across every field and in every position, had taken the day off of work. They crowded around televisions in their houses, in the jungles, in stadiums and atriums, and especially in bars. Starlight had been abuzz with activity from around nine AM, with many getting a start early. By noon, it was already one of the best days of her career. The number of people in the Starlight had only grown since then. By two, they were having to dip into the basement and pull up their stock. By seven, she was running low on everything- she’d have to close by ten due to nothing more to sell.

There was a mix of people doing this to her. Marshites of course made up the majority. They sung their songs and cheered on their Arch-Bishop, chanting hymns as the fights continued. Seven hours into it and throats were hoarse with the continued singing and hymns but they didn’t leave or stop. Still, there were non-Marshites. They helped Tina make her money too.

In the corner there was a group of Naztoc-Lec Polytheists. It wasn't their religion, but death in combat was just as spiritual to them as it would be for any Marshites. Plus, they enjoyed a good fight, cheering as every enemy of the Marshite fell. Ordering their drinks straight, they somehow still maintained their respectability as representatives of their faith. Elsewhere a couple of Anuien day laborers made the mistake of coming in to their regular establishment for after work drinks. Amidst the chaos they realized they were not getting a table any time soon, but still managed to get a few beers and together they decided to stick around for a bit and watch the fight. They only had a passing familiarity with Marshite culture, given their favorite watering hole was run by marshites, but if it was important to them, they could stick around and see what was going on.

At the bar, a single Surian executive had somehow managed to get a seat at the bar early on. Her name was Wendy Casillas-Veros, and once the place filled up, she realized that this seat was valuable, and decided to stay put, less she ended up standing, or worse, needing to leave. She didn’t really get Marshite culture either, other than her housemaid was one. Stereotypically, a Marshite was just as good with a toilet brush as they were with an assault rifle. These bartenders were good as well, keeping the drinks flowing and tabs paid, somehow. It probably helped that Marshites were hopelessly honest types. Still, it had been hours, and while she was probably due somewhere, she couldn’t help but stay and keep an eye on today’s events. Even if she cared not for Marshite culture, new leadership in the Holy Marsh would affect the international community in ways she couldn’t even figure out, not yet.

She knew better than to ask for a proper mixed drink, instead asking for a straight Scotch.

“Oye! Tina, one more por favor, the top shelf!”

“Got it, comin’ right up,” Tina replied, reaching behind her bikini clad younger brother to the top shelf. She then took a new, clean glass- it was cleaned not five minutes ago but such was the activity that her brother was having to work his plump ass off to make sure they had enough- and filled it up. She knew the cost off the top of her head and had that tab running as she slid it over. “Wendy, enjoy the good stuff,” She said as an excited murmur went through the crowd. She turned to one of the tavern’s six monitors and saw the Arch-Bishop finish off another opponent, cutting his neck open with one swipe before sending the Kukri down into the skull. “That makes it...four hundred and six?”

“Four hundred and five,” she was immediately corrected by her twin brother, whose hoarse voice didn’t stop him from immediately keeping pace with the hymns being sung by the faithful, and the chants of excitement that intermingled.

Wendy Cassillas-Veros leaned into the bartender, still a little confused by the importance of this slaughter: “Tina, how has she survived this long? Four hundred and change enemies killed?” She asked quietly, trying not to offend the fans of the bloodsport, but hoping to get some idea of what exactly she was watching.

“The Arch-Bishop was a Holy Warrior before she took the position. They are the greatest soldiers on the planet!” Tina said excitedly. Was it true? She believed so. A religious bias was implicit in her words. “Beyond that, she knows she is dying today. There is nothing to hold her back. And she gets to kill slavers, cultists, and other fiends. One of them will eventually take her down but I feel sorry for-”

“Fuck ‘em all,” younger brother from behind chipped in.

“-Okay, well, not sorry. But she didn’t even use her kukri for the first hour. How’s the drink holding up Wendy?”

“It’s good, I just hope you have some tomorrow after all this”, Wendy waves vaguely to the bar full of hymns and half full glasses, “Ok, but what happens to the poor pendejo that kills her? I imagine that cabron will be paraded through the capital with their head on a spike.” It was an honest question in Wendy’s mind, this was after all, an unfamiliar event, they weren’t like the Naztoc Lec who fought to honor their gods, this was a literal suicide by mass muder. Surely they wouldn’t honor the final victor.

“No idea. I mean we’ve seen slaver and cultist purges in combat in the arena or as mass executions, but never like this,” she responded, pondering the possibilities. It was strange, even for a Marshite.

“Lainika would likely hate it if they made a big deal out of it. I have five trabajoros that a sniper just blows him away and they gas the rest of ‘em,” her younger brother replied as he pushed a rack of new glasses over to Tina. The bartender was called away by multiple new requests for a drink, so he leaned on over to Wendy. “I wish I could be there. To see this live! Those lucky bastards. I wonder how much a ticket would have been if it were here?” He smiled, “or I wonder what you would have priced it at, anyway.”

“Marshite economics is something I don’t think I have the patience to learn, but an event like that, with a willing market like this…” she looked around the bar again, referring to the other patrons, and to making sure no one was paying attention to her, “I would easily be a price those seats at a price even Antonio Montana would be hesitant to buy.”

A glimmer in her eye hinted at the internal machinations of business and exploitation that made her so successful in a career she clearly enjoyed. Her mind was quickly working to determine the sheer revenue such an event like this could generate, but this was not her world. It was theirs, and a religion based on communal property rights and other pseudo communistic ideals was not a market that made sense to her. Hence why she let others handle the weird Westerners.

“But there’s a reason they don’t let Surian business people run the world.” She admitted.

“Ha. Well, if it prices out people like Antonio Fucking Montana, I don’t see what would be bad about that. Cheers?” He offered as he poured himself a drink.

Wendy smiled at that comment, “Cheers”, and with that she finished her drink, another would probably be needed shortly. After all, the Arch-Bishop was only at four hundred and five.

The gate opened, and two more entered the arena.





************


Federal Police Headquarters, Mokastana City
People's Republic of the Islands
7:35 PM

Marshite Defense Council Ambassador Stannis Lurvana drank from a glass of water as his eyes darted to and fro, from the monitor perched at the end of the long boarding table. His job here was to summarize the findings of the local shrines and the MDC intelligence group, in an effort to brief the Federation on the candidates for Arch-Bishop and what they were like. It was incredibly difficult work. The Conclave didn’t list their candidates or discuss them, and they could in theory have picked anyone from their Shrine. But Lainika was an older woman even before she announced her plan, so they had worked to try and understand who the options would be. When Lainika had announced her plans, all it had done was ensure that what they had figured out was collected and printed off for use by Lurvana as he was called in to meet with his superiors in the Federal Government.

That had been ten days ago. They had their share of ups and downs since then. Using well-placed Shrine insiders they had been able to get news a day or so after the Conclave’s day had wrapped up. Lurvana had a sneaking suspicion that the information was coming out too easily and it was coming out on purpose, but he wasn’t going to lean too heavily into his own theories as to why. He was asked instead to explain what the hell was happening in there to the best of his knowledge.

They had missed on many candidates but not on others, and had clearly lost the plot on who would have support in some areas and who would not. They also had done a good job with a lot of the surviving candidates and had about half of the projected field still in play from their initial predictions. Not a bad job, not by any reasonable standard. Whether that would be enough as he went in deep with some new officials was another matter entirely.

“Feeling alright?” Security Manager Sammie Sakura asked, patting him on the shoulder, her hazel eyes blazing with an intensity her words did not match.
“Or were you up too late burning the...afternoon oil?” Joked friend and aide Tescari Turlagi, his own cavalcade of documents splayed out in front of him as he made sure to keep track of what was being said.
Stannis smiled. “Maybe I have, ha. Just a little tired is all. We’ll be fine. I’ll be fine,” he said as he looked up at the monitor. Lainika had killed one opponent but her kukri was stuck in him, so she was fighting a man with a knife barehanded. Intense. He wanted to pray, but just then he heard the door open behind him.

Through the doors walked President of the Federation Ben Rodriguez, and Foreign Minister of the Federation Elizabeth Franshaw. Together, they were concerned about the change of power in the Theocracy, and their best way to get an insight into the politics of the Marshites, was to meet with the most influential Marshites who had Federal citizenship. The Marshite Defense Council had exploded in power and prestige over the last few years, ever since they played a pivotal role in the first battle in the Kyogists rebellions. Although the Bureau of Secret Affairs did well at giving the Federation an idea of what was happening in the Theocracy, it was only facts and figures. The President wanted opinions of those with a Marshite perspective.

“Greetings Compadres,” President Rodriguez began with his popular gender neutral greeting. Although ‘Comrades’ was also socially acceptable among the left leaning parties of Mokastana, Rodriguez wanted to stand out. It had mixed results. “Thank you all for agreeing to meet with us. With me is Foriegn Minister Elizabeth Franshaw. Have you all been properly taken care of, need anything, drinks or food?”

The three Marshites stood as their President and Foreign Minister arrived. There had been a revolving door of major officials across the government, but they’d be lying if they said they expected the President just yet. “We are well, Compadres. A pleasure to have your ears today,” Sakura said as she tossed her hand towards the television. Lainika was straddling her opponent, his bloodied neck and her bloodied mouth with a vein in it telling the tape how she killed that man. “And your eyes, as well,” she finished with a smile as Lainika finally pulled her Kukri out of the first member of the pair.

President Rodriguez looked at the screen for a quick second but turned away. He had seen enough bloodshed in his youth during the 2nd Narco War of Suria. Drug Lords of those days had reputations to maintain, and much like Lainika, didn't care about how many bodies piled up. At the Marshites were on his side, for the moment. Intelligence indicated that no matter who won, they would remain close allies, but the nature of that relationship would be set by whoever was elected.

Unlike Ben, Elizabeth had not served in a war, her conscription years had been spent working on a naval dock, maintaining a stockpile of spare parts for warships. Although she had been in the Capital during the attempted coup against Henry Milano, she had hid in the Foreign Ministry, guarded by Socialist Workers Army soldiers. The closest she ever got to combat was listening to the roar of Navy jets overhead, followed by dull thuds of distance explosions. Watching a woman murder people wasn't her idea of a good time. Her spouse was certainly enjoying it, having taken the day to go to a local bar and watch it among friends. Such was the life of marrying into Marshite culture.

Taking a seat in a spot conveniently away from the television, President Rodriguez began: "As blessed as this day is, closing the chapter on the guidance offered by Lainika, I would like to take a moment to learn more about those who may come after her. I fully expect the People's Unified Federation and the Theocracy to remain strong allies, but as leaders with strong ties to both, we want your opinions on what directions our international friendship could take, depending on who takes up the mantle in the Theocracy next."

*******


The three Marshites nodded as their President and his fellows took their seats. Stannis opened a folder, labelled Cerisa, and passed out those documents. “The current frontrunner, or the one we believe is the frontrunner, is Cerisa Alahana. She was a Bishop in the Female Shrine before The Shift hit. When it happened, she took the reins in the immediate post-chaos situation and eventually found herself the Cardinal of the Shrine. She is a rather radical believer in the Shrine’s core structure. While all members of the Female Shrine do believe that the female sex are the chosen people, the more radical elements take that steps further. Cerisa is one of them, and believes in the absolute supremacy of the female form. She sees The Shift and events afterwards as a divine message. Cerisa is known as a very intense and driven individual,” Stannis began.

“Notably, it isn’t that she or the Shrine see males as weak or inferior, but rather just that females are the chosen, superior form. It might seem a minute difference, but it is critical to understand. They may show favoritism or bias towards female leaders, though this might be subconscious, but it isn’t as if we suspect her to craft policy that is negative towards Marshite allies based on the leadership of men,” Sammie responded, trying to even it out.

“Beyond her own beliefs, we don’t expect a massive change in Marshite policy towards us under her leadership. Next,” Stannis continued as he opened up Sabastian’s folder, “we have Sabastian Trudacan, Second-Claw of the Non-Human Shrine. The Non-Human Shrine believes in the divinity of the Non-Human species, as protectors and chosen of the Holy Marsh. Sebastian has been a well-known member of the Shrine for some time but for the most part he flew under the radar, known mostly for his excellent diplomatic skills-” Stannis continued before

“Which aren’t highly valued, to be honest,” Turlagi interrupted bluntly.

“-as well his theories regarding the burgeoning non-human presence on this planet. The Shift in many cases proved him right, and he is seen as divinely inspired by the First Claw. Just like Cerisa we don’t expect a giant change in the manner of Marshite interactions, though we do believe he is more likely to promote diplomatic activity,” Stannis finished.

“We expected those two to make it this far. But the third one is a little shocking. Sasha Luboski, of the Commune Shrine. The Commune Shrine believes that the edict in the First Scripture dictating the means of living indicate a complete abandonment of not just personal greed, but wealth and possessions as well. The goods of society must be used for the good of society. The Long War necessitated that many of the core concepts of this Shrine became Theocratic law- even to this day, the overwhelming amount of food, water, basic essentials, the vast majority of forms of basic property, lodging, and even clothes are owned and distributed by the Church. Saha helped run this system and its myriad of sub departments for years and firmly believes in the social good of state control. This level of influence is why we didn’t expect them to make it this far, which would indicate that something more afoot,” Sammie started off, clearly a little mor excited.

“Communal Marshism has many tenets that one could classify as being communist or socialist in many ways. An honest ideological look at the Theocracy would make these tenets clear. With them also controlling the Arch-Bishopry, it is unknown how much more influence they could apply to the Theocracy as a whole. We do know that Sasha is a very liberal interpreter of his Shrine’s creeds. On a personal level he is known to be rather friendly-” Stannis added before being interrupted again by Turlagi.

“Her, technically. Well I suppose not technically. Post-Shift she just changed her name.”

“-friendly enough. But you don’t run the Goods Distribution Service without being able to make hard decisions, and you don’t run it for decades without making them often. We aren’t entirely sure how her modus operandi will change things more than normal, but they might,” Stannish finished.

Turlagi opened Saerea’s folder. “This is as unexpected, or even more so. Saerea Yuana, Chieftess-Queen of the Primitive Shrine. The Primitive Shrine believes that true faith and holiness is expressed in the ways and means of the ancestors, and strives to live according to these ancient ways. While they will absolutely do what the church requires of them- so no, don’t expect Marshites to not know how to fly advanced fighter jets and drop penny-perfect artillery on your heads- they otherwise shun modernity in near totality. Vast tribal coalitions and city-states in the depths of the Pushanian Jungle answer to this Shrine, and it is not difficult to find yourself in a city that seems straight out of an adventure novel not long after leaving the megacities of the Theocracy. It must be noted that near universally Shrine members are not ignorant or unknowing of the outside world. Instead, they acknowledge, respect, and reject it in large numbers. Searea Yuana was born queen of the Dynasty she runs, which connects over four hundred tribes and sixteen major cities under her rule.”

“More than most, she is a believer in the old ways. She is a Queen by birth and is a believer in blood dynasties and the righteousness of birth. She doesn’t scorn other forms, just considers them less pure than hers. Same with societies. She has expertly run her dynasty in the jungles of the Theocracy and is considered incredibly persuasive and aggressive.”

President Rodriguez reviewed the folders and listened intently to the various options presented before him, turning to look towards his Foriegn Minister regarding the Commune Shrine option. He wasn’t sure how her socialist leanings might impact future relations if Sasha won, but it might be beneficial, as would a female Foriegn Minister benefit the PUF if Cersia claimed the throne. Realistically, the only one that concerned President Rodriguez was Sarea, the PUF had its own share of ‘under developed’ lands, and while many Marshites lived in those areas, a primitive shrine leader might promote them to maintain their lifestyles, rather than embrace modernization.

“Seems like it will be an interesting race, how much impact do you think the new leadership will have on Marshites in the Federation, in Aqua Anu and elsewhere?”


“Well, that does depend. We expect Cerisa to be aggressive in the establishment of her internal policies, and Marshites regardless of nationality will always look to the Arch-Bishop for guidance. I would expect to see either the Commune Shrine or Female Shrine to get a huge surge of support. From there? Hard to say. A degree of it will depend on our own reaction. Cerisa will take her influence as far as she is allowed to. Sasha may not, but that isn’t because she doesn’t want to. It’s because she thinks she can do it without needing to push,” Turlagi said before Stannis cut in.

“The same is true of course for all candidates. Perhaps the one who is less likely to do that is Sabastian, who-” he began before Sammie shot up out of her seat.

“It’s happening! Praise be the martyr!”

******
The Arena of Saint Turrasa
District 25, Mar’si, Grand Theocratic Empire of the Holy Marsh
07:39 AM (PM, PUF time)


The man who would kill the Arch-Bishop was a Ralkovian- one could tell by their notable physical characteristics, and the tell-tale mark of combat on his flesh.His name, as much as he had one, was DG-8174-65K. Tall, with red eyes and swarthy skin, he looked every bit the sort of warrior who could finally finish the job.
This man was different from the rest. Like a solid handful or three of others that had been fought today, he had a healthier bearing about him. Many Ralkovian Special Forces or equivalent had been captured and most who had survived the initial capture and trials of the time were held back in preparation for public executions, combat, or biological study for children. This one had the trappings of an elite of some kind, though Lainika was too far gone to truly process what exactly was different about him.

It was clear from the start that this was likely her last fight. He was fast, faster than she was fully healthy- but she was no longer fully healthy. He was strong- perhaps not as strong as she was in her prime, but she was no longer as strong as she once was. Skilled? Highly. Nothing she could not counter in her younger days with, but she no longer had those days or advantages. She was old, broken, and wounded, and even her decades of experience gave her little leeway here- all it did was prolong it.

She got her strikes in. A cut across the gut. On the shoulders. Almost deep enough into the neck. But it was all moot. A cut across her brow. A stab into her gut. A severing of something in her legs forced her to one knee. From that angle she drove her kukri into his thigh and with all her remaining strength pulled it down, flaying ipen the front of his thigh in a burst of blood and muscle. But it was a final blow that, as brutal as it was, was made with the knowledge that she could no longer delay her death- for even as she finished her strike, his knife went through her temple, ending her fight, her pain, her life, and her service to the Holy Marsh.

Her body fell to the side, the kurki still clasped in her hands. The Ralkovian fell over in agony, his leg split open. His agony was not long lasting. Even as a mountain of prayer fell upon the arena- indeed, the nation, and among those watching globally- he was hit by several large-caliber sniper rifle shots that turned him into a pile of still-quivering flesh. Two attendants rushed out and unceremoniously started dragging Lainika's shattered form, as she had requested, and her equipment out of the arena. Once they were out, a transparent dome started to slowly unfurl over the field itself while the assembled continue their Prayer for the Martyr.

The doors that had ushered in the combatants opened once more, this time staying open for some time. More than three thousand additional slavers and other heretics were herded out in their dozens and hundreds, and for some time there was a sense of confusion inside. Finally, once all of them were out and the dome finished encapsulating the field, the walls of the arena fell down to reveal dozens of nozzles of flame. There was a pregnant pause as those inside realized what it meant: Lainika's final request, her final judgment of those who would escape her own personal justice.

The arena was lit in flame as the assembled Marshites changed their prayers from one of Martyrdom to one of hate, damning the slavers and heretics even as they burnt to flakes. Those closest in the middle would survive the longest and it was these that the camera would linger on the longest. The temperature shot through the roof and while they themselves escaped the direct hit of the flames, in time they too would die, and they would die painfully. Their clothes would catch on fire, their hair, their skin would boil and their eyes would melt as their collected mass fused together into a soup of flesh and bone. Lainika's final judgment, and a great show that all Marshite children would adore for the rest of their lives.

***************************

Federal Police Headquarters, Mokastana City
People's Republic of the Islands
7:43 PM

The three Marshites at the table bowed their heads in prayers. At first they were joint prayers, but then they were of different Shrines, each one honoring the Arch-Bishop. After a minute they finished.
“It is done. And if I had to guess, we’ll know the Arch-Bishop within an hour.”

[Holy Marsh]

Mount Mar’si
First Cathedral Tunnel System
Mar’si, Holy Marsh

Every eye was glued to the video as Arch-Bishop Lainika met her end, and the fiery retribution that followed was prime cause to celebrate. The Conclave was a mixture of excited prayer and hushed conversation as each and every member looked to others for a sign of how things were to develop. One of those who did not need to look for he knew innately how the tide would develop was Sabastian, who damned his pensiveness earlier. He knew now he would lose. The fervor that would overcome those on the margins meant his middle of the road messaging would fall on deaf ears. Sasha and her penchant for beackground competence allowing for those who disagreed with Cerisa's radical nature to find someone they could support. Cerisa and her larger than life, radical nature allowing those with a desire for reformation to find their path forward.

But there was no longer a path for him. He knew it. Too little, too late. Slowly he sent out messages to his most ardent supports and minutes after Lainika perished, he stood up to make his announcement. "Friends, it is time for me to step aside. We stand now with two excellent candidates. May the Holy Marsh bless us and maintain our success eternally," he said before sitting down, allowing his personal disappointment to fade as his religious obligations came rushing back in. He may have been defeated, but there was still great works to be done.

That left only two. Many voters rushed quickly to support one or the other and by the time the reshuffling was complete, only a few minor Shrines still held their votes close, and the two found themselves tied as the final stretch dawned on them. From the head of the Conclave came two quick raps and all eyes shot to the heads of the Polytheistic and Monotheistic Shrines, who stood up and scanned the representatives. "There are only two remaining. By right of running this Conclave, we declare this Conclave to have entered into the Final Spiral of Debate. Candidates, press now. If we find ourselves displeased, we will make it known," the elder one said before sitting down. Good. That meant both candidates would need to engage one another and do so viciously to gain support. It would start slow, but once that ball started rolling it would end quickly.

The time had come for this thing to end.

OOC: Sabastian Trudacan has dropped out. 30 votes have been given to Cerisa. 24 votes have been given to Sasha Luboski. At this time, both candidates have 93 votes. Any and all votes given to any other candidate at this point forward will be ignored. 12/19, the vote ends.

[Solisian Union]

La Victoria City, Capital Province of La Victoria
The State of Solisia
The Regional States of the Union of Solisia

A cigar's ashes dropped upon the tray placed at the edge of the president's desk. The fingers holding the cigar itself allowed it to stay over the tray before they withdrew, allowing Atalaya to enjoy another puff of its rare taste, its luxurious scent. Soon enough, she put away the cigar close to the tray, allowing it to rest on a small plate. The woman's dark eyes turned to the waiting Nannasian Marshite by the locked door. Immediately, the servant nodded and came over to the desk so they could fetch the ash tray and the plate, taking them away to a counter. At least, as it rested there, it would not cause worries for the President of burning her own desk. It was a fine piece which she treasured for the many years she's served the country as the only one elected to the office of President.

She let her eyes stay on the servant as they made sure that the cigar, the tray, and the plate were all secure on the counter. When the servant was done with their duty, her eyes turned away from them so she could focus on what was right in front of her. A live report on what was going on with the Marshites and their very own elections for a new Arch-Bishop. A frown came to her face as easily as the lights dimmed so no glare would bother her.

Atalaya never thought that her party would honestly be happy with how things are compared to before. While she acknowledged the benefits of the Shift, among them the end of various issues and conflicts the Union itself was having within itself when it concerned the various ethnicities and minorities present, the daughter of very influential socialists in La Serena did not think that it was easy for the country, but mostly the party, to swallow their pride and accept the changes that came with the benefits. The increased converts, the growing tolerance of Marshite influence, the very existence of an increasingly radical Marshite enclave that was supportive of Cerisa and her policies, her very dreams and promises. All these, and more, came to her mind as curious issues. While her party mainly contented itself with the status quo, and hopes that it would win the elections as they came in the future, the president herself kept quiet in the presence of most of her comrades. But in the presence of her inner circle, she made it clear her own worries, if not doubts, about things to come. And they tended to concern how Solisia, and the greater union itself, should approach a new Holy Marsh, one that was soon to come under the influence of a fellow socialist. Well, a communist, it seems.

The Solisian now sighed as she looked away, fetching a pen from her chest pocket so she could start writing a statement for later.

---

I give my congratulations to the candidates who all did their part in the political and religious traditions of their land. I hope that the future Arch-Bishop shall be a fine leader not only of the Marshite people but of the alliance Solisia and her union of states share with them. I, on behalf of the regional union of states, give my regards to all.

---

[Holy Marsh]

Mount Mar’si
First Cathedral Tunnel System
Mar’si, Holy Marsh
10:20 AM

The debate had continued for some time, but Sasha had enough.

"I call for a final vote," came Sasha's voice, calm and cool under pressure. She had been somewhat silent during much of the Conclave, speaking only when needed. She wasn't an orator by nature and she hadn't been the one to propose her as a candidate, meaning the burden of improving her position did not rest on her. While she would certainly take the position if she won as it was clear to her that it was the path the Holy Marsh had chosen, she was not arrogant enough to believe that she could stand against the many great orators and fiery personalities of the Conclave. Instead, she would rely on the many things that had proven to be invaluable tools in her life.

She would rely on her record, her competence, her faith. No one had run the Service as well as she had and during such unusual times. From the chaos of the short-lived Civil War she had earned plaudits from both sides. From the shock of the Shift she had helped weather the shortages of required materials and fashioned a new order out of nothing, earning her fame. She had run the Service for over fifty years, as Stan and then as Sasha, and had never been found wanting. Arch-Bishops had come and gone. Skarnada had died as he wanted, in battle. Krywenscki had died in a skiing accident. Saranasta, executed. And now Lainika had died her way. Through them all, Sasha had done her job.

It was by the will of the Holy Marsh that she stood here to oppose Cerisa. She respected the Cardinal from the Female Shrine. Indeed, Sasha found most of what she said agreeable on a personal level. But this was a Theological debate and she had a rock-solid belief in the purity and righteousness of her faith. For all of the arguments and prophecies bandied about, it was her beliefs that were the lifeblood of the GDS, the most important organ of the Church when it came to helping the Marshite community. Her path was the path of faith through action and arranged against her was...an orator.

Lets see how far that got Cerisa, like it got every other failed candidate.

"The Conclave recognizes this call. All Shrines, hear this: You are to submit your final votes, here and now. The debate has ended," bellowed the elder representative. Sasha sat down as the other Shrines voted. Whispers and arguments abound, but the Shrines did vote. The first batches were from the majority of Shrines that had already found their homes behind either Sasha or Cerisa. That left the clutch of Shrines that didn't fully throw themselves behind the candidates. Sasha sat down and allowed it to play out, though she knew behind the scenes there was a final flurry of activity. Deals being made and arguments being finetuned. A minute later, another vote for her. Then one for Cerisa soon afterwards. Minutes passed.

More passed. A few more votes came in. Fifty-three Shrines could vote and forty-seven had their votes in. She breathed deep as she allowed the final votes to come in. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Six.
It was over.

**************

First Cathedral, Mar'si, Holy Marsh
1:30 PM

Cardinal-Commander Reginald Archeus had led the prayers in the First Cathedral, the prayers that were being broadcast on every channel. More than a hundred thousand prayed with him and billions upon billions more globally. His job now was the same it had been when Skarnada had died, when Krywenscki died. To lead the nation while the Conclave finished. He had one benefit now though- the Conclave was already meeting, and he knew that they would resolve their meeting within hours of Lainika's passing. So all he did was lead prayers while the dais in front of him made sure to keep him informed of important matters.

It was after the sixth hour of prayer that he was informed of who won. An unusual choice, to be sure. He took a deep breath and led the next prayer- though moments after he began, the news would be announced and only those in attendance would join him.

****************

"FLASH NEWS BULLETIN:

THE CONCLAVE HAS SELECTED THE NEW ARCH-BISHOP. PRAISE BE TO ARCH-BISHOP LUBOSKI. PRAISE BE TO THE MARTYR LAINIKA. PRAISE BE TO THE HOLY MARSH.

FLASH NEWS BULLETIN:

THE CONCLAVE HAS SELECTED THE NEW ARCH-BISHOP. PRAISE BE TO ARCH-BISHOP LUBOSKI. PRAISE BE TO THE MARTYR LAINIKA. PRAISE BE TO THE HOLY MARSH.

FLASH NEWS BULLETIN..."

==============================

From the Desk of the Conclave, to All Nations and Peoples:

"The Conclave has concluded its meeting. It is our righteous and holy duty to select the next Arch-Bishop, who will lead us with the grace of the Holy Marsh and all things good in Her name. Many great candidates were discussed and all of them were touched by the Holy Marsh in their own way. Yet it became clear after more than a week that one candidate stood above the rest. We are honored and privileged to announce that the next Arch-Bishop of the Grand Theocratic Empire of the Holy Marsh is Arch-Bishop Luboski of the Commune Shrine. May the Holy Marsh bless her eternally.

Honor to Arch-Bishop Luboski!
Praise be to the Holy Marsh!
Death to the Vile Lard!"

[AHSCA]

Communique from the United Island States of AHSCA


Arch-Bishop Luboski,

Congratulations to you on your being named the next Arch-Bishop of Holy Marsh. After a long process of seeing who will become the next one to lead your nation further into the future, it's great to finally see a newly named Arch-Bishop entrusted and so blessed by all the Heavens above. I shall look forward to our continued friendship between our two nations and hope to meet you very soon. No doubt you are busy with many things to do as you prepare to take this important position but I shall hope you can make a visit to us in the UIS soon, or I if you'd be so inclined to have me as a guest.


To always as always our future together,

Duchess Marcella Villa

[Allanea]

At the Ministry of Foreign Affairs building, Liberty-City

"What's clear is that we must send her a gift."

"That's fair, but that creates a problem."

"How so?"

"Well, she's a Communist. That's to say, not that she worships at Marx' grave, but she's in a cult that promotes sharing and equality over individualism. It might be seen as an insult if we send her a golden jewel with emeralds in it."

The advisor paused. "Maybe a tractor? I heard Communists love tractors."

The Minister of Foreign Affairs guffawed. "No, but really, Anthony. We need to send her a gift that's modest and useful, that won't come off as an insult or a bribe – or an insulting bribe. Rather, we need to do something that she can use in her daily hobbies and that in some way represents us as well."

"Hm. What are the values that Allaneans and Marshite egalitarians share?"

"Other than, obviously, hunting slavers? Hm. Independence. Resilience. Outdoor stuff."

"So, shoes?"

"Brilliant!"

* * *

And therefore, the boots arrived on the proper day, delivered by diplomatic courier. The boots were tan, a bit like a pair of military or working boots in shape, but lighter. While there was no gold on them, not precious stones, they were clearly the product of elaborate work. Comfortable, sturdy-looking, they were made for hiking enormous distances or chasing prey through hard terrain. Whether the Arch-Bishop wanted to join the Marshite troops on a field exercise, go on a hunt pursuing a bear, or just leave on a ten-mile hike – these were the proper item for the task.

In its own way, the gift was like its recipient – modest, hardy and practical.

[Palmyrion]

Aragon Marshite Temple
Aragon, D.C., Royal Palmyrian Commonwealth
Region of Greater Dienstad

Кто я, Что я,
Люди кто рядом,
Мой друзя воюют,
Соединяйде серп и молот
Союз

The Marshites of Palmyrion were well-known for their staunch anti-communist stance, having been one of the victims of the Stalinist religious purges of the 1950s to 1980s - them and the Catholics, Anglicans, Muslims, and animists in equal measure. It was only in 1985 that religion was re-legalised and the populace once more adopted religions of their choosing, and Stalinist religious suppression served to temper religious fervour among the populace, Marshites included. Thus, even as the religions of Palmyrion set aside their differences, religious fundamentalist hatred and bigotry still ran deep - and this was especially the case for Marshites in Palmyrion, at a time when the Holy Marsh was fighting the closing 20 years of the Long War.

Thus, it was understandable that, in light of Sasha Luboski's election as Arch-Bishop of the Theocracy (and by proxy of being the "Papal States of Holy Marsh" the Marshite faith), the Palmyrian Marshite clergy were majorly upset with the election of a literal communist to the position of Arch-Bishop. Arch-Bishop Luboski came from the Commune Shrine, practicing a sect of the Faith called Communal Marshism - common good over individual interests. They've heard of other heresies left and right - such as the declaration that homosexuality was immoral solely because it had no procreative potential (as per Christian natural law arguments) and thus same sex marriage must be removed from the full set of Marshite Basic Rights - but an Arch-Bishop promoting an ideology that was used to justify the forcible "deconversion" under death of Marshites was simply heresy.

"The Arch-Bishop is literally supporting a form of Marshism that would be approximate to Communism - an ideology that has seen Marshites in Palmyrion being culled en masse alongside other religions." Cardinal Peter Hilawud remarked in dismay and condemnation of what he saw as "communist heresy". "I call communist heresy of the highest order!" he exclaimed in disgust.

At the same time, declaring heresy was the equivalent of crying wolf at this time - the Marshite Faith cared little for ideology, so long as the Marshite Faith was carried out in its pure form. It did not matter whether or not the Marshite-dominated state was fascist, democratic, or even Stalinist, but the bottom line was the Marshite faith's tenets and any state purporting to be Marshite had to adhere to them with meticulous faith.

"The Marshite Faith cares not about earthly -isms such as capitalism, communism, socialism, and fascism." replied Cardinal Naomi Obrero to Cardinal Hilawud's statement. "All it cares is its tenets being upheld and adhered to with great faith, and any -ism a Marshite can think of is extraneous." she added, noting of the Marshite Church's stances - both ex cathedra and non ex cathedra - on ideologies and philosophies, which shared such a common theme: the bottom line of upholding the Marshite Faith's tenets. "Calling the Arch-Bishop's election as communist heresy is thus mere crying wolf."

What was important to the Marshite clergy of Palmyrion, especially those forming the Supreme Clerical College, was that the Marshites followed the tenets of the faith faithfully. Internal disagreements, power struggles, and ideological differences within the Marshite Faith can wait - these were almost always swept beneath the rug, after all. Quoting the Christian Holy Bible, specifically Mark 3:25 (KJV): "And if a house be divided against itself, that house cannot stand."

---

OFFICIAL PRESS RELEASE OF THE MARSHITE ARCH-DIOCESE OF PALMYRION
20 December 2020 | 11:43 AM PST | Death to the Vile Lard

The Marshite Arch-Diocese of Palmyrion, on behalf of the Marshite ecumene in the Royal Palmyrian Commonwealth, rejoice upon the election of the now Arch-Bishop Sasha Luboski of the Commune Shrine as the head of the Marshite faith across the world. May her tenure as Arch-Bishop of the Marshite Faith be marked by progress and love, and fervent defence of the Faith and Church against threats external and internal.

We expect her to uphold the tenets of the Marshite Faith and defend it as faithfully as needed, especially in a modern world of immense threats and excellent opportunities to cultivate and defend the Faith and the Church.

Honor to Arch-Bishop Luboski!
Praise be to the Holy Marsh!
Death to the Vile Lard!"