Invokers of the Flame

The Invokers of the Flame are an elite faction of priests of Pelor that are given governmental authority to conduct inquisitions. Originally founded in 942 GD by King Eustace II of Galefridus and disbanded four years later, a new order of Invokers was re-established in 1012 GD by Emperor Borys of the Empire of Solis in order to keep the cities safe during the Plague of Fangs.

## History

When King Eustace II took the throne in 942, he decided to destroy the Scarlet Crescent, the kingdom's biggest criminal syndicate, as his claim to fame. Coordinating with the Church of Pelor, he established the Eustacean Inquisition, a campaign to seek out and deliver divine justice to criminal operatives of the Scarlet Crescent. He recruited from among the ranks of priests of Pelor those most fanatical in their pursuit of justice and designated them Invokers of the Flame, placing them in charge of the inquisition.

Over the next four years, a brutal campaign took place throughout Galefridus. The Invokers of the Flame commanded units of soldiers and went from city to city, town to town, hunting down members of the Scarlet Crescent. Captured members of the Scarlet Crescent would be publicly burned at the stake, and soldiers of the inquisition would torture and kill their way to confessions.

In 946, after growing public outcry at the increasing brutality of the inquisition and the collateral damage it was causing, King Eustace II ended the inquisition and disbanded the Invokers of the Flame. While the Scarlet Crescent was not destroyed outright, it was barely clinging to life. Many high-ranking members had fled Galefridus altogether to avoid the inquisitors, and those that returned found the organization fragmented and in disarray.

In 1012 GD, as a plague of feral undead vampires ravaged the world, the Empire of Solis rallied its greatest defenders into its cities and migrated as much of its population as possible from rural settlements into defensible city walls. Crime rates soared as cities became overpopulated and filled with refugees who had to abandon their jobs and sources of income, and gangs took advantage of the chaos to run rampant. But worst of all, outbreaks would sometimes crop up from within cities - somehow, infected people were being snuck in. This was the final straw for Emperor Borys - he took the extreme measure of re-establishing the Invokers of the Flame in order to track down and stamp out all evil within the walls of his cities.

## Vestments

Unlike other priests of Pelor, who can be easily identified via their yellow or golden robes, the Invokers of the Flame wear red battle robes with gold trim and a golden symbol of Pelor emblazoned in the center, with chainmail armor underneath. A golden halo shaped like the sun extends from behind their shoulders, framing their head. They carry a staff topped with a sun disk of Pelor.

## Dogma

Only the most fanatical priests with the steeliest resolves are recruited to be Invokers of the Flame. Members of the Invokers drop their title and rank held within the Church of Pelor and instead take the title "Inquisitor," representing their single-minded pursuit of finding evil.

*"The Church of Pelor preaches that Pelor is a good god; a kind and benevolent god. His light - the light of the sun - provides warmth, and sustenance by making crops grow. But the sun is, ultimately, a great fire in the sky. And fire can burn. The Invokers of the Flame embrace this aspect of the Light - they invoke Pelor's flame to burn away evil. And evil is insidious - it hides in the places that are the most painful to search, and Invokers must have the courage to do whatever it takes to find that evil."* -Inquisitor Benedict

## Anecdote

“What's your business in Lionburh?”

Warin stands just within the city gates as a pair of guards interrogate him. Sweat beads on his brow, and not just from hauling the cart behind him for miles by hand. He swallows hard. "I’m just a simple farmer, master," he stammers. "I can’t survive out there any longer. I’ve come to seek refuge. I’ll... I’ll work any job. I’ll earn my keep. I just want to be safe within the walls.” The peasant looks down at his torn and muddy clothes and tries, in vain, to straighten them out and appear more presentable. Sweat mats his hair to his face.

“Very well," replies the taller guard. "We’ll need to check your cart.” He approaches Warin's cart, reaching for the tarp that covers it.

The peasant immediately steps between the guard and the cart. “No, no need, master. It’s just some food, some supplies...”

“Is that right?” asks the other guard. “Then why’s there something moving under there? Are you smuggling in outlaws?”

Warin looks at the cart. The tarp is, indeed, moving slightly, in a manner that cannot be explained away by the wind. He can't hide the fact that something is moving underneath.

“No, no, not at all, master. It’s just… it’s just me wife. She’s ill.”

“Is that so?" the guard asks. "Let’s have a look, then.” The guard grabs the tarp and starts to lift it, but the peasant holds it down.

“No, master, please, she’s… she’s quite ill. She can’t bear the sunlight. She’s feverish; delirious; she just needs some medicine.” The tarp moves some more.

The two guards exchange a worried glance, and one holds the Warin back while the other grabs the tarp and raises it slowly, taking a peak underneath. A feral shriek issues from within the cart, and the guard jumps back, drawing his sword. “Kord’s bollocks. She’s one of *them*!” The other guard releases the peasant and draws his sword as well.

“No, no, she’s just delirious with fever!” The peasant rushes to the cart and holds the tarp down over it protectively, while movement struggles against him underneath. Muted shrieks can be heard.

Hearing the commotion, two other guards rush t o the scene, swords in hand.

“We’ve got to kill it!” spits one of the guards.

“No! She’s my wife!” cries Warin.

“She’s not anymore!”

“I won’t let you!” the peasant shouts.

“What is the problem my child?” a mellifluous voice interrupts the argument, and all eyes turn towards the advancing figure in red robes. A golden symbol of Pelor is emblazoned on his chest, and he carries a staff topped with a sun disk, while a golden halo extends from his armor behind his head.

Warin gulps. “My wife is ill, master. She requires healing.”

“Then let Pelor’s healing light shine upon her,” replies the priest. He gabs the tarp, and the peasant snatches the priest's wrist, holding him back. The priest stares at Warin with a fiery gaze as the guards rush forward.

“Unhand him, you pleb!” shouts one guard.

“How dare you lay hands upon one of the Invokers of the Flame?” says another.

“It’s to the dungeons with you now!”

The guards start dragging Warin away as concerned onlookers crowd around. The peasant drags his feet in the mud, struggling helplessly as he looks over his shoulder back at the cart.

“Blessed be those who walk in the Light,” preaches the priest. With a violent snap, he tears the tarp off the cart.

There’s a horrible shriek as Warin's wife, unveiled, begins squirming in the sunlight, as her skin begins to sizzle and burn.

The four guards startle, releasing Warin, who climbs to his feet and makes for the cart. But not before his wife jumps off the cart and begins running down the street, shrieking horribly as she catches fire. The crowd of onlookers either screams and flees or stands paralyzed in shock.

Warin chases after his wife, but the guards have caught up to him - two grab him by either arm, but Warin punches one in the gut and tears himself free from them. He takes another few steps toward his wife before a third guard tackles him to the ground, and then all four grab him by the limbs and pin him to his knees.

The priest takes a step towards the burning woman, motioning with his hand and incanting a pray. A brilliant column of flame descends from the heavens and engulfs the woman.

"NO!" Warin cries out, reaching towards his wife. In the reflection of the peasant's teary eyes, the remains of his wife smolder on the ground.

A hush falls over the stunned crowd, and the priest raises his hands skyward. “Blessed be Pelor.”