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Cailean Sloane Ruadh Sacerdotum Primum of Aunios, Vox Dei
June 23rd, 1403 NE
High Markish
Common Markish
Common Mercian
No Information
Magic Capable
No, absolute and born asleep

Goals & Motivation

Cailean's goal is always to be indispensable. He cares deeply about the state of his immortal soul, and aims to increase his caeli by whatever means he can. His earthly mission is to spread the word of the Four and help others to understand their wisdom and apply it to their lives. He sees himself as an instrument of the gods, and through them all things are possible. He does not dream of becoming Primum (Raevenna is far too hot) - however he is always working to become more influential within the Temple or become religious advisor to the Ard Ri of Dubhion.


A leader of the Dubhionic Temple, Cailean provides the picture of devotion. His zealotry is well known, as he is a figurehead of the church. Aggressive piety is his bread and butter. Presiding over Aunios, his fervor for Templar ideals has made men feel reinvigorated in their faith and energized to do the Four’s work. He is also a theologian; eager to discuss ideas surrounding the divine family and man’s place in the world. While he exudes a front of intolerance, on an intellectual level he is open to discussion of holy ideas and how other men view the gods. On a practical level, there is no way but the right way, his way, the *true* way of the Four. He is also staunchly anti-magic, believing uncompromisingly that they are demonic creatures bent on wreaking destruction among otherwise gentle god-fearing folk.


Tall, broad shouldered, and handsome; Cailean does not fit what one might imagine of a sacerdos. He looks the part of a Merchant Prince, only his clothes and demeanor betray him as a man of the cloth. Cailean’s looks are often a point of note for supporters and detractors alike. To some he appears vain, un-pious; while others find his looks equally as compelling as his words. He is keenly aware of what good looks he does possess, and often uses this to his advantage. He is fair-skinned and has the muddled tawny hair found commonly in the Marks. His face is kind, lined faintly with age, which makes his countenance seem more conveniently benevolent. While not a young man, he carries himself with the upright posture of a man in his prime. He is lightly muscled and lean, capable of physical activity and sport, though not proficient at it. He avoids overindulgence in food and wine to keep from running fat.


Though he wears the vestments of a holy man, truthfully Cailean loves himself far more than his neighbor. He takes great care to cultivate an image of aggressive outward-facing piety. Behind closed doors, however, he acts however he pleases. His true nature proves much darker than the pure-white caeli he projects. Inwardly Cailean is petty, greedy, and self-absorbed. Deep within him lies the typical soul of an imposter: the closely held fear that his true self is not worth following...or not worth loving. He is self-aware enough to recognize his own faults, but chooses to disregard them. He considers himself not only above the law, but above morality altogether. In his eyes the good outweighs the bad. The countless preserved souls of good Templars will always counterbalance any misdeeds or ill-intentioned thoughts.

There are precious few who have seen the true face of the sacerdotum primum. Over time his image has become enmeshed with his personality, so much that even he can scarcely tell where one ends and the other begins. He spends very little time acting genuinely; instead he chooses to live his life as a grand performance, and endless succession of sermons. In this way he maintains a consistent, self-perpetuating image. He exalts the common man, yet has never worked a day in his life. His outward face is intense, charitable, and empathetic. He seems to feel the pain of his flock; always surveying them with kind, all-seeing eyes. However it is impossible to listen to one of his sermons without tasting for oneself the intensity of his wrath and the hatred with which he views impurities of faith, of salis. This rage, again, is false. At the end of the service he becomes almost withdrawn. One on one he speaks quietly, thoughtfully. It stands as a stark contrast to his bombast. How one man can go from screaming at the thought of mortal sin, to then both quiet and piously introspective, speaks to the inherent duplicity and malleability of his personae.

Academic (2) - theology
A student of the conosensium, Cailean received extensive tutoring on many subjects. However he is no great scholar, especially among the clergy. His understanding of history, numbers, literature, and other topics is competent. He would be at home discussing any esoteric topic, though does not possess intimate knowledge of any. His main area of study was of course theology. As a sacerdos he is knowledgeable about the history of the Temple of the Four, its messengers, and its essential tenets. He can discourse easily on all topics of faith, and enjoys debate about Templar values. He has taken it upon himself to gain a basic understanding of the other religions of Sergonia as to better understand their heresy. He can recall facts about any such religion with relative ease, and speaks with authority on all spiritual matters.

Diplomatic (3) - prose, calligraphy, dancing, instrument (zither)

Oration, charisma, and personal magnetism form Cailean’s personal brand. His success as a sacerdos rests upon his ability to compel from the pulpit. His ability to persuade, his conviction, and the strength of his personality have all contributed to a persona that, over time, has become known throughout Ostia and Dubhion. His compelling sermons, laced with fire and threatening damnation in ifran, bring many to tears (including himself). Without these skills he is nothing. His courtly skills are those befitting a clergyman: calligraphy, prose (necessary for his lengthy performances), and music. He eagerly consumes and performs devotional music, and enjoys performing for small groups of friends. His skill at court dances is something of a relic from his youth in the court of the Ruadhs of Maormark. Lithe and graceful, Cailean’s quickness on the dancefloor is sometimes shocking to behold - and he does not resist the chance to impress, even though it may seem too secular a pastime to some.

Martial (1) - none
A warrior priest he is not. Cailean has no education or interest in matters of war. Though he has some stake in the conflict between Mercia and Dubhion, and in Mercia’s overthrow of the southern Marks; it is not a matter he feels he has his hands in. If anything, his contribution to armed conflict is a diplomatic one.

Relationship with House

Cailean is a Ruadh by birth; but was given to the faith as a young adolescent. His relationships within his family are not strong, and he considers his brothers of the cloth to be closer to family than his own. His loyalty is also divided between the city-state of his birth and Aunios, where he now resides. His rank still brings honor and prestige to the Ruadh name; and his position as a sacerdotum primum ensures he is never wholly cast out from the fold. However he is self-serving to the utmost, and does not factor loyalty to his house as a principal concern. For him, all his name ensures is a steady flow of coin and easy promotion within the ranks of the clergy.

Public Knowledge

Sacerdotum Primum of Aunios
Hates magic and the Augury
Religious zealot and preaches an aggressive form of Templarism


Plotting to become Primus
Plotting to murder the Primus
Plotting to set up a second Templar capital in Inshmor with himself as Primus
Keeps lovers of varying description
Is secretly an asleep witch

A second son, the Four ordained that Cailean join them in holy contemplation. That this was his divine calling, though, was not always so clear to the young Ruadh. He was raised in the mountain city of Dubliff, in a manor befitting the Merchant Princes of Maormark. His family lavished him with every luxury befitting a boy of his stature. He thought he might become a great military man - a sellsword commander leading an army sworn to his father. In the reach a Ruadh could become anything...or so he thought.

He was thirteen years old when his father gave him to the conosensium. At first he felt doomed; a lifetime in the sole company of men seemed a death sentence. Why would his father curse him to love only placid Minea, to lust only for the beguiling Phile? These two faceless women seemed untouchable, so far away as to scarcely exist. However it was the role of the quaestor to seek knowledge and understanding of the Four, and to learn what wisdom they imparted through their many messengers. It was Saint Astin to whom he was most drawn. The messenger’s presence emanated from the very page when Cailean would read them. He became entranced by the messenger’s words. Wielded like a flaming sword, Astin seemed to brandish faith like steel. Perhaps Cailean could be a warrior still: one who parried lies with truth and doubt with faith. For days he would fast so he might better interpret the wisdom of Saint Astin.

Faint with hunger, Cailean knelt before the altare. He found reassurance in the wood, gripping its smooth edges to steady himself. His knees were bruised and numb beneath him, his lips chapped from thirst. He seemed to sway from side to side; a sapling tree buffeted by an unseen wind. There was no breeze inside the sanctum, only the cooling caress of Minea’s soft hand, the reassuring brush of the patrem’s beard against his cheek. Silence blanketed the temple. He had been there almost a week.

“Frater Cailean?”

A votary of the conosensium had come to check on him, bringing water and some bread. This was Cailean Ruadh’s path, his choice to better come to know the gods. A quaesitor’s journey could not be questioned. He would go where the Four guided, and their command was beyond reproach. Cailean did not speak. Gently he rocked; if he prayed or hummed to himself it was faint. The votary stepped away.

On the fifth day he fainted. The brother who found him rushed to his side. Untouched cups and plates clattered as his robes swept across the cluttered floor. Cailean lay unconscious. He had soiled himself.

“Frater Cailean - Cailean. Wake up! You must end this.”

Slowly he awoke, eyes blinking against the light. “Brother, I have been reborn.”

The sacerdos stared at him, incredulous. “Reborn? You are a child still, a quaesitor. One who needs to grow up.” He helped Cailean to his feet.

Never, Cailean thought to himself. A sacerdos never grows up because he can never become a father. He will always be a son.

Over the years, Cailean found wisdom in the conosensium...though it was not always the wisdom imparted to him by the sacerdobus. He eagerly accepted his vows, pledging his life in solemn solidarity to the Four. Within the Ostian conosensium his heart was branded with the sort of aggressive piety unique to the Marks. Intolerance, austerity, conformity: these were the central tenants of Ostian Templarism. Cailean wore them like vestments of his faith.

Not yet twenty years old, Cailean underwent the Magnum Votum at the great Temple of Ulmark. His rank afforded him greater honor within the Temple (the gods, it seemed, were not blind to the shine of coin) and he was granted a comfortable parish in the mountains outside of Lorient. It was in these hills where he made his home and honed his talents. He was a man of the cloth, yes, but he was a man and a Ruadh as well. Ambition beat within his pious heart.

The brand of faith that would come to define him, that of fanatical and sometimes outrageous devotion, coalesced slowly. Word of a sacerdos with the gift of oration, an avatar of Astin himself some claimed, began to spread through the mountains of Ulmark. He was young, compelling, handsome enough for sacrilege. It was then that he was called to the parish of Aunios, the borderlands between Dubhion and the March. Though it was a far cry from the world he knew, Cailean felt compelled to accept. His powerful sermons proved especially popular among the Dubhionic people, especially the commons. Commoners were uneducated, easily swayed, beset by misfortune - They thirsted for divine meaning with unslakable tongues. Paradise always seems near to you when you are mighty; damnation nearer when you are weak. Cailean gave a voice to their fears, and filled their heads with the promise of bliss. If their terrestrial fate seemed deplorable, well, the Eternal Spring had room for all those with sterling caeli. Perhaps life after death would grant them a fairer shake.

“See these candles before me?” He gestured toward the ceremonial candles that littered the temple. The flames winked innocently, hardly knowing for what end their glow might be transmuted. “They are light. By them we can see the world around us, know one another’s presence. If I were to gutter these candles, and we were to sit in darkness, how long could you bear it before longing for the sun?”

He paused for a beat.

“Now you can hear my voice. You can feel the presence of life in this room. If it were stricken from you for a day, a month, could you endure it? Could you exist utterly alone - thirsting for the sound of another’s voice as you thirst for water? Hungering for the breath of another as you now yearn for sustenance? How then will you bear Ifran? How then will you endure the darkness unending? You cannot! It is eternal torment! And so you must repent! See the light of the Four! Feel the presence of the divine family and your fellow man! Cast out your salis and plunge into redemption everlasting!”

There was a prescient power to be found in humiliation - in divine shame. And there was no shame so keenly felt as dishonoring the Four. Every one of life’s maladies; from a poor harvest to the inability to keep an erection, could be attributed to the displeasure of the Four. In that way, Cailean thought the holy family utterly compelling. It was his role as interpreter of these vagaries that leant him a similar power. Through him the shamed could gain absolution. Through his words his congregation could experience that holiest of humiliations. It was release, after all, which remained the perennial goal. Release from sin, and ultimately, from responsibility for their own lives. The Four guided all...and there was comfort in their culpability.

The congregation seemed to moan with joy. They were in the throes of passion - desire for absolution. Cailean smiled at their upturned faces. To them he was the Four. He guided their hearts like Haras, soothed their fears like Minea. In him was the aggression of Vulcus; the cloying promise of Phile. The outpouring of devotion sustained him, reddening his cheeks as he stood gasping at the pulpit.
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Magical Abilities Explained


Consequences of Being Awake

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Last seen Apr 2 2018, 07:05 PM Created on February 19th, 2018 has made 6 posts played by Nori
Cailean Ruadh Dubhion
Last seen Apr 2 2018, 07:05 PM Joined February 19th, 2018 has made 6 posts has earned awards