Ballad of the Bishops

by Anthology-of-the-Cult (Joffy)

Summary:

The battle for the Lands of the Old Faith begins and ends with one small little Lamb. Can they uncover the mysterious dissappearance of their people, find their own culture buried underneath the moss, and prove themself worthy of true divinity as they slay the five overlording Bishops of the Old Faith itself..?

Notes:

As of current (21st of March, 2025) this AU has been put on indefinite hiatus. I genuinely have no idea if I'll ever finish it, or even get close, it's just here for the 5 poetry enjoyers in the fandom lol.

Enjoy if you're able!

Chapter 1: Augur Upon Aventine

From whence we came,

We arrived betimes,

For making home

Of this small greenwood clearing.

 

Betwixt these two saints,

The rat and the lamb,

Did I watch as they grew

Empty fane to sweet bedlam.

 

Within our lord's demesne,

Did I find such small comfort,

Hie lay my head

And dream softly.

 

Come morrow natheless,

Came charges and duties

Overbrim:

Leaving me,

Lowly scullion,

Without rest.

 

O' our lamb did yet shrive

Me and mine,

Those old sins,

Commited o'er name o' bishoprics.

 

So began of our cult,

Sore needed speed,

Sure success,

Therewith we may spread,

Our dark lord's diocese.

 

Henceforth I gave troth,

Whereat my body was so recompensed;

Gifted white goods in their shape,

Of such clouts that could shake;

 

Avaunt the cold,

Which assays

To so take our bodies,

For a corse.

Remorselessly,

Advances with such haste.

 

Such began our garland,

Tale of infamy and hope;

A low cult of cordwainers,

Turned to cottiers,

Kinfolk.