I, Wavash, am a Necromancer.— Page 1
It is of no great debate that the desires and whims of The Nine Divines are unfathomable. While today you may be rich in both grain and children, tomorrow you could just as easily sit alone and without a single crown. I will not say that the gods should interfere with the moments which lead to such an occurrence; however, are they unable to provide in times of suffering? Devoutness seems to give no more succor to those who toil under the yoke of belief than those who would seek freedom from its oppression. What good are the Divines to us if they extend no hand in return? For what do we owe worship?
The common man would emphatically declare that everyone questions his faith throughout his life. A priest would answer a penitent's question by saying it is a perfectly natural, yet wholly unacceptable, position to take. I have reasoned a much more nefarious relationship, one which you should not dismiss simply due to my background. It is this reasoning I wish to explore further.
I posit that it is not we who need the Divine, but they who need us. What other reason explains our Creation? I admit this question remains without an answer and fills me with worry in the dark hours of the night.
— Chapter 1: On Worship
The very nature of our world is but that of a prison. To those who tread the path laid out by our creators they should understand their role. To the Divines you are no more complex than a child stumbling through a maze. They created the railing which finds you bumping this way and that, occasionally skinning your knee or finding yourself at a brief reward in its center.
When the practice of Necromancy exceeds the bounds of the prison yard it should come to no surprise that a penalty occurs, that nature pushes back.
— Chapter 3: The Nature of the Abhorrent
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