#bleating bishop au

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miscellaneous Pyrite doodle

Im not happy with it

[cold-mother-yngya]

《¤ Quiet hoof steps echoed in the forge as Pyrite entered almost hesitantly ¤》

"Hello Rami? You got a second?"

(( @bleating-bishop-au ))

(hope you don't mind if this takes place after the holy day)

(Rami) *They look up from their work, pulling their helmet up.*

Yeah, sure!

*She said as she set aside a support beam to cool, and approaching Pyrite.*

Whatcha need?

[bleating-bishop-au]

CotL Questions

Buncha random ones I haven't seen and I think would be fun to ponder

What is your Lamb's relationship with Ratau?

Did your Lamb experience any immeadiate changes when first recieving the crown? If so, what changed?

Does your Lamb enjoy crusades?

Do npcs who become followers only techinically followers get special treatment? (To be clear I mean the lighthouse dudes, Plimbo, Sozo before he ODs. The areas in game that give bonus faith once youve met a criteria)

How do the Bishops encourage/find(?) Sin among followers?

If Narinder is alive and was spared, does he regret what he's done to the other Bishops?

How does the Mystic Seller view the Lamb?

Do disciples work harder than regular followers? (Could apply to either Lamb's disciples or disciples of the Bishops)

Does your Lamb trust the Fox?

Is revival painful for the Lamb or are they numb to coming back after dying?

[bleating-bishop-au]

"Final Preparations" - Chapter 1

Spoilers for the story of Cult of the Lamb

Next Chapter - "Proposal"

The One Who Waits. It was all his fault. The Bishops of the Old Faith only slaughtered all the sheep because of him. Her teeth were sharp and her body rejected the food it once relied on, because of him. And Pyrite was supposed to free him? She had nothing personally against the Bishops of the Old Faith. Sure each Bishop had their own issues but so did everyone else. Pyrite saw no reason to want any of them dead.

The golden fleeced ewe hopped down from the foot of the shrine where she had been sitting. The collar that hid the scar of her execution jingled softly with every movement she made. Pyrite found a bittersweet comfort in the sound of ringing bells. When she was young, other sheep wore bells. She was born in a time where traditions were dying. Pyrite could still vividly remember the wariness and constant fear in the eyes of her herd. Now however was not the time for such thoughts.

She glanced around, counting her followers. Only one more until the last door could be opened. Then Pyrite could start the first step of her plan. The One Who Waits only said that she had to start the cult in his name. One of them did eventually have to die. The Red Crown can only rest upon one brow, after all. Pyrite left the sanctuary of her cult, moving purposely toward Helob. As she expected a poor soul was bound in webs, struggling against the sticky strands.

“If it isn’t the Red Crown, looking for another morsel for your collection, are you?” Helob crooned, grinning around his mandibles. His eyes flicked to the still struggling creature then back to Pyrite. “They don’t look nearly as tasty as I thought, I’ll give you half off.”

“Numbers, Helob, numbers,” Pyrite gave him a hard look, tapping a faintly red tinted hoof against the hard ground in impatience. Helob’s grin remained lazy and cheerful.

“Let’s say a nice clean forty-eight gold,” He reached over and sliced the silk bindings as Pyrite handed the coins over. He watched the golden fleeced ewe put on a reassuring look and open her arms, welcoming the frightened creature. Helob knew most things she did in front of followers were heavily rehearsed. She presented herself as a merciful shepherd, as a protector. Which served as a ploy to make newly indoctrinated followers feel safe and encourage loyalty.

“Pleasure doing business, Helob,” She said over her shoulder as she guided the critter away. She flashed them a soft smile, sharp teeth hidden behind her lips. They were tense but seemed to slowly relax as they walked beside Pyrite. “You’ll be safe under the Red Crown. All I ask of you is complete devotion and loyalty,” The ewe said calmly as they passed the ruined arch before the plateau her cult lived on.

Pyrite’s followers kept working as she offered the newest member of her cult the appropriate red robes. She ushered them in the direction of the farms and disappeared into the temple. The Red Crown slid into the form of a snake and crept down her arm.

There are now enough to open Silk Cradle’s door. Are you certain of the plan? She bared her teeth at the obvious doubt in the Crown’s voice invading her mind. It didn’t have a voice of it’s own, instead speaking in her mind as if one of her own thoughts. The single ruby red eye of the Crown flicked away as it sensed her anger. I’m just saying you haven’t thought it through thoroughly.

“It’s been thought through enough. I can navigate my way into making them agree, after all, we have a common interest. The death of The One Who Waits,” A sly grin crossed her face. Pyrite had never thought about obtaining godhood but then again she didn’t have the Red Crown before her sacrifice.

The golden fleeced ewe took a breath and stepped behind the pedestal at the back of the temple. She kicked a bell behind her, earning a loud dong sound that would carry the message of a sermon being held. She watched with narrowed eyes as her followers filled the temple. Except one, the newest little cultist. Pyrite frowned and pointed to a random follower. She schooled her expression into a look of concern.

“Daisy, be a dear and fetch Lunar, would you? I’d hate for any of you to feel left out or unsafe. Besides, I want him to be familiar with our rules as quickly as possible, especially regarding sermons and rituals,” The white fox follower nodded eagerly and went off to do her task. She tapped her hoof impatiently as she waited for Daisy to return with Lunar in tow. She could care less about the sermons but holding daily sermons was a great way of keeping them loyal to her. The ewe’s blue eyes looked over the gathered crowd of both predator and prey. They adored her. Pyrite has never considered herself egotistical but she had to admit seeing these creatures look at her with such admiration and be so willing to do absolutely anything for her, it made her feel powerful. It made her feel deserving of the Crown she wore.

It didn’t take long for Daisy to return, and as instructed she had Lunar trailing behind her.

“Thank you, Daisy. Now that everyone is here, the sermon can begin. All praise the Red Crown,” Pyrite paused, letting her followers echo her words before continuing, “All praise the Red Crown, for allowing me to give you this sanctuary. For allowing me the joy of protecting all of you. Praise the Bishop of the Red Crown”

Pyrite tilted her head up, her eyes rolling up, the blue being consumed by the bold red of the Crown. She let herself hover with the power of the Red Crown as it collected her followers’ devotion. They gave a bow and she landed on her hooves. She shook her head, returning her eyes to their normal blue.

[bleating-bishop-au]

Bishop doodles

Still working out my bishop designs but take some doodles

[bleating-bishop-au]

Pyrite

Bishop of Death & Redemption. A golden wooled ewe with unusual sharp teeth. She didn't take to Redemption until some time after formally becoming a Bishop. Even then Pyrite's brand of redemption is not quite what most would consider redemption.

Pyrite is not always a merciful Bishop. In fact many outside of her cult would consider her punishments cruel. Even her closest disciples advise new arrivals to be unnote-worthy. If she likes you chances are you will not see death, or if you do it won't be for long. If she dislikes you she may resurrect you for her own purposes although this is less likely.

(Visual reference on stand by)

[bleating-bishop-au]

Little au KallaLamb

template by @headlessgrasshopper

[bleating-bishop-au]

"Proposal" - Chapter 2

Spoilers for the story of Cult of the Lamb

Previous Chapter - "Final Preparations" | Next Chapter - "Heretic Management"

“Dismissed. You may all return to your duties, and remember sanctuary is only provided to those who devote themselves to their faith in the Red Crown,” Pyrite called loudly, watching her followers filter out of the temple. Once they were all  out of the temple she left herself. The golden fleeced ewe moved with purpose to the statue of the Red Crown.

She pressed her hooved hands to the statue. The Red Crown hovered above her head, as the door to the Silk Cradle opened slowly. A small swarm of spiders fled from under the moving stone. Pyrite growled under her breath and stomped on any that came too close. Pathetic little creatures they were.

She looked over the four opened doors. Pyrite trotted into the dim blue light of Anchordeep. She knew Kallamar had a reputation of being a vain coward, and given her deal would spare his hide, she had no doubts he’d agree. She rolled over at the sudden spray of fireballs from some floating jellyfish-esque creature. The golden fleeced lamb let a low growl rumble in her throat and willed the Red Crown into an ax. Without hesitation Pyrite cut the offending creature in half.

She soon stumbled across Kallamar in the middle of leading a ritual. The larger blue squid was startled when he looked up and saw her standing there. He quickly schooled his expression into one of hostility.

“Hang on, hang on. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m not here to hurt anybody actually, I won’t hesitate if I need to but harm isn’t my intent here,” Pyrite said calmly, putting her hands up in a submissive gesture. Though her eyes shone with a barely hidden eagerness.

“You aren’t here to kill me? I find that incredibly hard to believe,”

“Why so? None of the other Bishops are dead. If I wanted to kill you four, I certainly wouldn’t start with you. Just listen to me, okay? I came here to you with a proposition. A mutually beneficial proposition, that only really works if all four of you agree,”

Kallamar paused, considering her words. The Lamb had a proposition and she was starting with him, it certainly stroked his ego to be the first. He leaned down, the hostility falling from his face. The Blue Crown seemed afraid, its own gaze locked on the Red Crown.

“Proposition you say? Well, what is it?” His voice was filled with wary curiosity.

“I don’t like The One Who Waits any more than you do. I don’t care what some ancient prophecy says, I’m not freeing the reason my species was slaughtered. So my proposition is that I will spare all four of you and kill The One Who Waits in exchange for Bishophood,” She grinned widely as his eyes widened. Pyrite was planning to kill him anyway but Kallamar didn’t need that detail.

“You would go against your destiny? I don’t know, it's been so long since anyone was officially crowned a Bishop… I agree, but be careful, would you, Lamb?”

“Pyrite, you can call me Pyrite. That is after all my name,” The ewe called over her shoulder as she left. A fly landed on one of Kallamar’s ruined ears. What was left twitched and a jolt of pain surged through him. The raw scar tissue had long since healed as much as it could but the pain had never faded.

She almost made her way out of Anchordeep without issue. The ewe had been distracted by an odd fish fellow. He hadn’t given her a name, he hadn’t said much at all actually. Mostly just told her to buzz off and that Pilgrim’s Passage would humor her for fishing. Fishing might be a good way to deal with her carnivorous needs but it was hardly a priority.

She shook her head, clearing her head. Her eyes twitched as a thought occurred to her.

Crown bearer.

“What? It'd be faster than trying to find some way out. I'd come back, wouldn't I?”

Very well, it'll be your pain.

Pyrite charged the nearest cultist she could find, headbutting them. They were shocked at first but quickly recognized this was an attack. She grit her sharp teeth as the cultist's dagger cut into her. Blackened blood poured from the fresh wounds. Pyrite soon felt herself fall limp. She rose in the landscape of the limbo where The One Who Waits is chained.

“Are you struggling, vessel? You have yet to kill any of them,” He hissed curtly, his chains rattling as he leaned down. The two cats on either side of him glanced sideways at the golden fleeced ewe. It took every ounce of self control to avoid baring her teeth in response to the pity she saw in their eyes.

“No, of course not. I am merely still figuring out my strategy,” Pyrite said sweetly, ducking her head. The silver bell dangling from her collar gave a soft jingle at the movement. It was a sound Pyrite had learned to disregard, though it did bring her comfort. “Is there more or may I return to my followers?”

The One Who Waits growled and leaned back. His expression was unreadable from behind the dark veil he wore, though she could sense his doubt. The ewe fell limp and after a moment of darkness rose over the magic circle carved into the ground.