The Cup Clergy

From Summoner

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==== The Art Clubs, The Healers, the Triage ====
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==== The Art Clubs, The Healers, the Triage, the Brahman ====
''Before the mother, there was broken glass. Shattered cement. Sobbing children. Empty eyes. She wept for them, into a chalice, and her tears became as manna, and she cast it at her feet. In the wake of the mother, there were beautiful lights. Verdant grasses. Thankful lovers. Eyes that knew the truth. The mother smiled.'' <br> <br>
''Before the mother, there was broken glass. Shattered cement. Sobbing children. Empty eyes. She wept for them, into a chalice, and her tears became as manna, and she cast it at her feet. In the wake of the mother, there were beautiful lights. Verdant grasses. Thankful lovers. Eyes that knew the truth. The mother smiled.'' <br> <br>
There is one need that must be met, before the Self can flourish: healing. By the oath of the Cup, the healers work hard to make sure that the damage both Summoners and demons cause is kept out of the World's eyes. Every shattered soul is one who will never awaken to Ego. Every unsolved mystery lends credence to the terrible rumors and memes that devour the fringes. A wound that does not heal, rots. A heart that does not heal, hates. Medicine is not just a mercy; it's survival. The Cup overflows, so that it will never empty. <br> <br>
There is one need that must be met, before the Self can flourish: healing. By the oath of the Cup, the healers work hard to make sure that the damage both Summoners and demons cause is kept out of the World's eyes. Every shattered soul is one who will never awaken to Ego. Every unsolved mystery lends credence to the terrible rumors and memes that devour the fringes. A wound that does not heal, rots. A heart that does not heal, hates. Medicine is not just a mercy; it's survival. The Cup overflows, so that it will never empty. <br> <br>

Current revision as of 06:05, 12 January 2008

The Art Clubs, The Healers, the Triage, the Brahman

Before the mother, there was broken glass. Shattered cement. Sobbing children. Empty eyes. She wept for them, into a chalice, and her tears became as manna, and she cast it at her feet. In the wake of the mother, there were beautiful lights. Verdant grasses. Thankful lovers. Eyes that knew the truth. The mother smiled.

There is one need that must be met, before the Self can flourish: healing. By the oath of the Cup, the healers work hard to make sure that the damage both Summoners and demons cause is kept out of the World's eyes. Every shattered soul is one who will never awaken to Ego. Every unsolved mystery lends credence to the terrible rumors and memes that devour the fringes. A wound that does not heal, rots. A heart that does not heal, hates. Medicine is not just a mercy; it's survival. The Cup overflows, so that it will never empty.

The Cup Clergy claim a history as old as the Western Christ, and older in the East. To them, legends of the Grail Seekers and of bodhisattva speak of their ambitions, if not their ancestors. They are a selective order, who seek out those who don't just want to fix the damage, but who want to do it for the right reasons. The physician must also tend to the Self, and martyrs are uncommon to their number. They tend to be gently nudged towards the Swords, until they gain a wider perspective. Some call it heartless. The Healers think of it as tough love and cold medical reason.

The Cup Clergy have mixed opinions about demons. Some are the most ravenous zealots you are likely to meet, and after tending to enough hopeless Shells, it's no hard thing to understand. But there is a growing faction among the Clerics. Many of them are turning towards a 'middle road' of tolerance and even aid to wandering demons. "If we feed them, they will not hunt." is their hope and ethos, and indeed, many demons can peacefully co-exist out of view of the World. This is, however, not the rule. Their experiment has mixed results, with enough questionable disappearances and sudden outbreaks to draw the attention of concerned Nobles and Peasants.

Membership: The Clergy blend between field medics and chaplains in the nightly travails of Summoners. They run the gamut of religions, including a lack thereof, but they tend to believe in something, though not to a Knight's extremity. Many members of other Estates join the Cups later in life, usually to make peace with some trauma they caused or witnessed. A common rule among the Cups is not to ask questions a member isn't ready to answer.
Icons: Cups tend to always have some sort of drink holder on their person, if only to aid in their Arts. Nalgene bottles and sports canisters are growing in popularity, but coffee cups, beer cans, and stranger receptacles are always possible. Clothes that can be torn into bandages always help. Images to identify themselves tend to be subtle and subdued, but clear to someone who knows what to look for. A Cup rarely turns down help, but it can be dangerous to volunteer where one isn't truly needed.
Exams: To join the Cups, you have to prove your willingness to heal the wounds caused by intrusions from behind the Mirror. You must demonstrate some ability to do so, either through stopping the damage, helping the Shells, or hushing up potentially dangerous rumors. Ability isn't a raw prerequisite, but a quick mind and dedication are.
Art: The Art of Cups
Stereotypes:
Sword Nobles: All well and good, if you've a flair for the dramatic. We'll be waiting when they inevitably come home on their shields.
Coin Merchants: We have many stated goals in common. Our plans never seem to match up...Funny, that.
Wand Peasants: They understand the Mirror better than anyone. But what are they going to do with all that knowledge? Watch them...
Vampires: What a tragic sort of Shell they are...and contagious? Maybe we can end this plague, somehow.
Werewolves: So full of rage, they are. What wounds do they bear in their ancestry? And what terrible Alter Selves...
Mages: I don't trust them, do you? For all their vaunted power, there are worse things than the Mirror, and they shatter the barriers with their very breath.
Prometheans: Oh, dear...how are we going to clean this up, hmm?
Changelings: Some of them understand. The worst of them are beyond saving. Quarantine as necessary.


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