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Lore posted:

Take this bag and fill it with sand. Now imbue it with the blood spilling from these dreadful wounds, so it will turn crimson red. With it you will show the way through these dry lands to those who are yet to follow. Leave me, now. I want to say my prayers, for I will soon be joining the dry sap of these roots that painfully embrace Our Father...

Lore posted:

It wasn't long before more and more people came to us, affected by that terrible and unknown suffering. Whole families, the old, the young and even the new-born. We brothers of the congregation were unable to cope, and our care was not working, nor were our ointments, nor our constant prayers. We are lost, submerged in the darkness of uncertainty.

No. 1 posted:

A young villager named Áurea had such a beautiful and pious face that even as a child, statue sculptors took her as a model for their creations. Her face became so recognisable that, little by little, people took her as the living, breathing image of divinity, until it reached a point where they ended up taking her out on procession, and even replacing their own images. Such was the fervour around her that she could not bear to be mistaken with the divinity, and burned her face with boiling oil to gift her pious beauty to God, and took up the habits of a convent.

Santo Credo, Verse One posted:

His Holiness, because of his high penance, must endure suffering in his soul in three ways. Each of the ways is a motive, and each motive is a sore. Hence these three sores are the keys to his eternal pain, and must be guarded.

Lore posted:

Febrile as he was, he hardly noticed that someone had sat down next to him. A gentle hand patted a white cloth on his forehead; it was a fabric of the utmost softness, which allowed light through it as if it were a sheet of paper, and was soaking his feverish sweats and providing such relief that he could not help but fall asleep. When the cloth was soaked, the nun got up and handed it to the Mother Superior, adding: "With this, we will be able to have his confession."

Lore posted:

When he entered that room full of paintings and statues, he was surprised to find, under a dirty sheet, the marble figure of a man who seemed to offer him something. Something lustrous that he held in his cold stone hands caught his attention: a shapeless fruit, the size of an apple, with a silvery glow and a delicious appearance. Hungry as he was, he took it, but when he tried to bite it he had to hold back a yelp of pain, for the fruit turned out to be made of metal. Confused, he grabbed a nearby stone and smashed the fruit with all his might, managing to make a small crack in it, from which a dense reddish liquid poured. Without thinking it twice, he drank the liquid, which tasted salty like blood.

Lore posted:

We call this pilgrimage route The Trail. Our wagons have always passed through here, and the tracks have gotten deep enough to even unearth the chalky sand that lay hidden under the thick forest, such that if one could see it from above, it would look like a long ochre line crossing the woods.

Lore posted:

It is said that the Albero graveyard is even older than Albero itself. It was built even before the church was erected. It was a graveyard isolated from everything in this arid, ochre land, considered unholy. The church did not take long to find out about this, and dug all the tombs up, scattering the remains across the fields. That's when the brotherhood of the Genuine Sepulchre was founded, in charge of collecting the remains of the dead and giving them a second burial. I have kept this piece of clay tombstone since then.

Lore posted:

Who was Tentudía, you ask? Well, she was once a girl born in this same yellowish village of Albero, like you and me. On her fifteenth year, something extremely unusual happened. Her parents watched as part of her hair began twisting, unavoidably turning into very thin thorns. Concerned with the thought that it might be a punishment from the Miracle, they locked her in as a novice inside a distant nunnery, famous for its strict cloistering, thus preventing the discovery of what would have, undoubtedly, been considered heresy.

Decree from His Holiness Escribar posted:

"It shall be called the Anointed Legion," said His Holiness. "Under the armour, their bodies shall be covered with bandages anointed with oils that I myself will bless. They will protect the Mother of Mothers as I will protect them."