It was not a gathering.
He corrected himself. It was a sermon, a missionary service—because the danger it brought him was obvious. Recently, the Orks in the city had all gone mad.
Perhaps they were preparing for the coming war, but Kalin still decided to be careful.
"...Now, we shall contemplate the meaning of life."
Quasimodo continued, reading from a leather-bound booklet.
"Apostle Kalin will bear witness to this contemplation and worship of ours."
Before the words had even faded, Kalin felt every pair of eyes in the room turn toward him.
"When people first feel drawn to worship the Eternal Father, it is only natural that they have doubts. They know that the Eternal Father is the only truth of time, the eternal destination of all souls, but beyond that, they dwell in darkness. They know no more.
At least Kalin agreed with that.
"Most importantly, they ask, 'If the Eternal Father truly is a god, then how does He exercise His divine power?' We do not see His hand descend from the sky, and only a very small number among us have been fortunate enough to receive the visions He grants. Does that mean He does not care for most of His people?"
Kalin knew it was time for him to speak. He coughed twice and said in a deep voice:
"They fail to realize the flaw in that thought. His hand rests upon every one of us, and each of us should offer Him our devotion! In the depths of the hall, the great soul of the Eternal Father constantly battles those evil beings, preventing them from destroying the eternal order of life. But most importantly, He blesses us."
"Praise the Eternal Father!"
The congregation chanted in unison.
"Faith is not a banner proclaiming a covenant, nor