Book of Redemption

"Pain is an illusion of the senses, despair an illusion of the mind."

They call us strange, we call ourselves Outcasts.

They mock us, we take the sharp words, and they cut us on the arm.

They insult us, we feel the blunt words strike us upon the head.

They wonder why we are what we are, we know.

They wonder why we seem insane, we know.

We are their enemy, they ours.

To those who wonder, I will tell, we are the future.

It is said that only those who prosper can judge what is sane.

But I tell you, only the insane have the strength enough to prosper.

And those who prosper can truly judge what is sane.

We are the future, the reality.

There are those who say trust in the Lord, I say follow his footsteps.

There are those who say have faith, I say beware the false prophets.

There are those who say the Lord shall forgive all, I pray so.

There are those who say that judgement day is coming, I say it is here.

There are those who say the end of the world is nigh, I say it dawns.

That which I write I hope brings knowledge.

Power is knowledge, knowledge is power.

Wealth is happiness, happiness is wealth.

Where there is smoke, there is fire.

Remember the tide of darkness rises, for it shall consume us all.

And our civilisation will end in chaos and fire.

"Better crippled in body than corrupt in mind."

The celebration of the Feast of Malediction by the Cult Redemption. This great annual event takes place in the Seclusiam of the Cult Redemption's temple, which lies in Gladstone. The feast celebrates the founding of the cult by Lynn Elgonsen at the beginning of the Teutonic Crusades hundreds of years ago. The Cup of Redemption used in the ritual is said to be the actual chalice from which Elgonsen drank at the original founding of the cult. At the culmination of the feast, the High Priest takes a small knife and cuts his thumb so that a drop of blood falls into the cup. The cup is then passed around all the assembled fighting brethren who each add a little of their own blood. Once every warrior has contributed, the contents of the cup are mixed with mead in a number of large open barrels. The cup is then passed from warrior to warrior, each filling it and drinking from the mead in turn. This ancient ritual is sacred to the Redemptionists and it is considered a bad omen if a long campaign or sudden battle delays the feast.

"Life is a prison, death shall be my release."

A man may die yet still endure if his work enters the greater work. Time is carried upon a current incepted by forgotten deeds. Events of great moment are but the culmination of a single carefully placed thought. As all men must thank progenitors obscured by their past, so we must endure the present that those who come after may continue the greater work.