Unseen Library

The Cult of Fecrod

4 - 5 minute read

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The Cult of Fecrod is one of the factions of Aeroclysm

Their ships are mostly rafts or rotten

The Cult of Fecrod believes that sickness, rot, and decay are merely a form of alchemical process. This process exposes us each to the genetic and microbial legacy that came before us. We are the living crucibles in which we purify the DNA that will result in those who can live Below. We do not need to fear, for if we embrace our roles as the generators of the future we will find more than enough for everyone. Fecrod is the name of an entity that claims to be the god of disease, decay, and sickness. It is said that the beginnings of the Cult started when an island opened a container from Before and all fell ill. Their prayers via the Church did not do anything, and it seemed sure that they would all die. Another ghost island.

It was one of the sickest, name unknown, who heard a whisper of something else in between his hacking coughs. It promised to take away the pain if only he would promise service. In his delirium, he thought this was something false, and promised service with no hesitation.

His fever did not break, and his coughing did not stop. But the strength came back to his limbs, more than he had before, and his coughs no longer left him short of breath. He walked out of his house, prying away the boards that had been nailed to mark his corpse. The whisper in his head told him that he would be able to save others, if only they would join him. As he walked, he made the offer to each he encountered. Some refused, and as they did the froth bubbled from their lungs and they died painfully. He begged his friends and neighbors to accept. Most did. They also joined his march, walking along like lurching corpses but laughing and singing as their pain fell away.

The joy they felt carried them through as the next dawn rose, and then they learned what servitude meant.

The new god that had whispered to them made its demands. Each month, they were to take one of the healthy that came to the island, and infect them with some form of disease. Initially, the effect was only to sicken and weaken. Fecrod would learn what its new universe was like through these illnesses, for it seemed to lack knowledge that a true god would know.

The healthy that were chosen were initially chosen only from the willing, and they were welcomed in to the cult. Fecrod learned and grew, and the familial atmosphere of the Cult prospered. It was when the first attempted to leave the cult that the position was made clear. As each one was infected, they had been brought into the Cult. Those that stayed found their sagging flesh to be painless even as flies erupted from their sores. And apparently, those that attempted to leave would die in horrible pain. The cultists were trapped in this space. There would never be a way out of this endless feverish existence.

That was when the cult began to change. They began to accept newcomers by infecting them before they could ask. They began to spread the disease without waiting for the natural cycles of infection to occur. They began to infect those capable of fighting back. They began to enjoy the pain and suffering they caused. Welcoming new people to the family managed to be the only thing that kept some of them going. They needed the novelty and the vicarious realization to feel like they still had some control.

The sickest understood that if they were to stay even remotely in control, they would need to leave the island. They took the vessels they had infected, and prepared to set sail. But the sickest, as the one who had agreed, felt guilt at the fact that they would soon unleash illness on the world. As a result, he ordered the forging of the plague bells, huge metal instruments that would warn the approaching that the plague ships were on their way.

As the fleet set sail and began the pandemic, Fecrod began to change. The voice began to soften, become less insistent and more curious. In deep communion with the god of disease, the sickest learned that Fecrod's insistence on simply infecting more and more people wasn't idle curiosity or blunt cruelty. Fecrod explained that there was something waiting on the other side of all the illnesses. Something that would finally cure everyone. But he needed more people.

It took the infection of one of the Shared Grove members for Fecrod to learn what he needed. A few more cleared it up. The sickest finally explained it to the others: each of them had been acquiring more and more diseases, more variants of infection, as they added new members to the fold. Each of them contained a small piece of the puzzle. As each one was added and spawned new poxes, they were changing inside. And once they had changed enough... they would be well again. Fecnod would ascend to a new plane of existence, and each of them would be in perfect health forevermore.Fecrod also seems to consider the destruction of the soulless and performing funeral rites to be meeting quota, so the Cult is called to handle the dead and the undead on a regular basis.