Orthodoxy of Seven
Salvation Through Suffering, Damnation Through Doubt
In the wake of humanity's downfall, as the horrors of Acarus spread across the land like plague, the people of Kalladonia—those who suffered the deepest wounds of the world's undoing—grasped blindly for meaning. From despair bloomed faith; from trauma, zealotry. The Orthodoxy of Seven rose in these ashes. It is more than a religion—it is the divine spine of Castillian society, woven into every law, tradition, and oath. Its creed does not offer comfort. It offers order. This state-forged faith was first codified by Aldpriest Fitzroy, a prophet-philosopher of the early Redcastle era. He spoke of Seven Virtues—seven divine principles through which mankind might reclaim its soul and defy the abyss.
These Seven are not abstract ideals. They are Icons—paragon-saints made manifest in sculpture, dogma, and ritual. Each virtue is a path, and each path a weapon against ruin.
The holy does not weep—it judges. The Prognosticii are the Orthodoxy’s enforcers, inquisitors cloaked in fire and scripture. Where faith wavers, they descend. Where heresy festers, they purify. Whether through flaying, branding, isolation, or worse, the Prognosticii reshape doubt into obedience. Even the whisper of apostasy is enough to doom an entire hamlet. And so fear thrives, and through fear, the Orthodoxy flourishes. To the Prognosticii, mercy is heresy.
At the northeastern edge of the Red Wall lies Scripture, the megacity-heart of the Orthodoxy. Black-spired cathedrals loom over tiered neighborhoods of penitents and zealots alike. Every stone bleeds doctrine. Every alley hides a prayer or a sin. It is here that the High Ordinal convenes, his voice regarded as second only to the Seven. All inquisitorial decrees, dogmatic edits, and ritual innovations emerge from these sacred halls, etched into vellum and flesh alike. Pilgrims do not come to Scripture for blessings, they come for absolution.
In the wake of humanity's downfall, as the horrors of Acarus spread across the land like plague, the people of Kalladonia—those who suffered the deepest wounds of the world's undoing—grasped blindly for meaning. From despair bloomed faith; from trauma, zealotry. The Orthodoxy of Seven rose in these ashes. It is more than a religion—it is the divine spine of Castillian society, woven into every law, tradition, and oath. Its creed does not offer comfort. It offers order. This state-forged faith was first codified by Aldpriest Fitzroy, a prophet-philosopher of the early Redcastle era. He spoke of Seven Virtues—seven divine principles through which mankind might reclaim its soul and defy the abyss.
The Seven Virtues
These Seven are not abstract ideals. They are Icons—paragon-saints made manifest in sculpture, dogma, and ritual. Each virtue is a path, and each path a weapon against ruin.
- Faith — The will to believe even when the light fades.
- Order — The sacred law that binds chaos.
- Industry — Labor as holy devotion.
- Family — The unit of human continuity.
- Self-Sustenance — The virtue of providing and enduring.
- Obedience — Submission to divine will.
- Ingenuity — Adaptation as proof of divine spark.
The Prognosticii: Shepherds of Pain
The holy does not weep—it judges. The Prognosticii are the Orthodoxy’s enforcers, inquisitors cloaked in fire and scripture. Where faith wavers, they descend. Where heresy festers, they purify. Whether through flaying, branding, isolation, or worse, the Prognosticii reshape doubt into obedience. Even the whisper of apostasy is enough to doom an entire hamlet. And so fear thrives, and through fear, the Orthodoxy flourishes. To the Prognosticii, mercy is heresy.
Scripture: The Cathedral-City
At the northeastern edge of the Red Wall lies Scripture, the megacity-heart of the Orthodoxy. Black-spired cathedrals loom over tiered neighborhoods of penitents and zealots alike. Every stone bleeds doctrine. Every alley hides a prayer or a sin. It is here that the High Ordinal convenes, his voice regarded as second only to the Seven. All inquisitorial decrees, dogmatic edits, and ritual innovations emerge from these sacred halls, etched into vellum and flesh alike. Pilgrims do not come to Scripture for blessings, they come for absolution.
In Mankind we Trust.
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