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The Coming of Knighthood


“Order, order! We shall have order!”

His shouting lost amidst the cacophonous tumult now permeating the Great Hall of the Beacon Knights' Academy, Sir Kuhaku Shiralot banged his gauntleted fist against the railing of the pulpit upon which he stood, before holding a palm to his head in defeat. Were these childish trainees truly the lot from which His Majesty the King Osthur Condragon, meant to draw his next band of royal knights? He cast a glance at the other members of King Osthur's delegation. On such a ceremonious day, his Majesty had thought not only to send his knights Sir Shiralot, Sir Grewain, Sir Abeldivere the Wise, Sir Marcus Golahad the Brave, Lady 'Diamond' Feirefrist, Lady Emorgan le Faylicia, and to declare the tournament itself, Her Grace the Queen 'Sapphire' Rodevere. At the moment, none of them seemed too enthused about the raucous young knights-to-be down below, particularly the Queen, who threw an exasperated look Shiralot's way as if she wanted to throttle him. He gave her a wink, and stepped up to take her place at the pulpit's center. Removing his Tiger Helmet, he banged it against the metal, and the resonance of the impact brought the whole hall to dead silence.

“That's better.” After replacing his helmet, Sir Shiralot continued. ”I take it thou lot ist excited much by the words of our Queen, and rightly so! Thine ist an honor every peasant in the kingdom wouldst revel to be given! But! It ist an honor that only the victors in the tourney shall receive! So sharpen thy blades, wax thy codpieces, and gird thy loins! The tourney beginest at dawn in two days time!”

New murmurings broke out among the squires below as the queen and her knightly entourage departed.

-=-=-


“Really, thou art a knave and a buffoon, Sir Shirkalot,” the queen bemoaned the knight as they trailed at the procession's end as they left Beacon Knights' Academy. “Forever making appalling japes, too oafish to even acknowledge thy oafishness.”

Shiralot laughed, poked the royal lady in the side, and whispered in her ear, “Really, thy tongue ist as cruel as thy infidelity to thine noble husband.” Queen Rodevere rolled her eyes and made a shooing motion. “It will be thy tongue that will be sung about after I take a dagger to it, if thy voice creeps any louder,” she warned, eying one of the knights standing still at the edge of the procession before he turned to approach her. She shushed him, and greeted the knight with as much civility as she could muster for an old friend. “Abeldivere. Why doth thou round upon us in such a manner?”

The goatee-wearing man ruffled his blue tunic self-consciously, and rubbed his chin in a manner most didactic. “Dreadful business in the town, I fear. The villagers appear to have captured a witch, a wench by the name of Amaranth, and aim to burn her. I must go forth and seek the truth of the matter.” He gave a resigned sigh. “I expect that I'll have to weigh her against ducks again. Truly, science is a tiresome matter.”

As he rushed off, one of the other knights appeared at Queen Rodevere's side—Lady Feirefrist. She seemed somewhat more anxious than usual, apparently at Abeldivere's news. “Pardon me, m'lady, but I must go as well. Amaranth is my...ah, friend, and I'd hate to see her burned.” Rodevere nodded her assent, and the behatted knight trundled off toward the village square.

Sir Shiralot, meanwhile, had been accosted by a scruffy gray weasel that had somehow wormed its way into his knapsack. His eyes alight, he called to Rodevere, “Is this not the most delightful creature that thy beautiful eyes have ever seen?”

A moment slogged by before a response came. “...Methinks thou would makest a better rug than a knight. Come now, we head back to Beacamelot Castle.”

-=-=-


Though he sat on the edge of a table, the young squire Robin Fallson could barely contain his excitement. “A real tourney,” he laughed to Gareyson, Dagoniel, and Priscenet, who themselves seemed enthused enough, “One that we'll compete in, and one that we'll win! I can picture it in me head: the day of the tourney. Priscenet with her longsword, Gareyson with his greatsword, and Dagoniel with his burning twinblades. All the others are gonna get rampaged!”

One table over, a quartet of newcomers to the country looked upon Robin's eagerness with sympathy, for even though they were new, they planned big. Even now, they were beginning to design a strategy, though given the topic of the current conversation an observer couldn't be blamed for thinking that the subject at hand was nonsense. “Cheese, I tell you,” insisted Napoli, ”Not only is it nutritious, but thou couldst also use it as a facial cream.” His teammate, Gratia Morgause, did not find this amusing. “Keep talking about fucking cheese and it'll be thine face that needs improvement, thou clod.” She looked at her friends Brangianca Nuit and Vortimega Venetia for support, but neither of the other girls seemed very eager to breach the ongoing argument.

Meanwhile, at another table but preparing to leave for the training grounds, four more knights-in-training were debating the pros and cons of their various weapons. Mokurdron, who owned a fine short sword crusted slightly with suspicious substances, pronounced her blade -along with her buckler, the 'Mirror of Yata'- nigh unbeatable when fighting anyone possessed of an axe, mace, or flail. Jackseph of Arimathea, the group's leader and an adept at using twin daggers, was quick to point out the lack of stopping power such a combination fostered against a well-armored opponent, and cited his own weapons' ability to slip in between armor plates as a perfect counter. Caelian Kuze, meanwhile, expressed her faith in the ability of her crossbow, Byakko, to both penetrate armor and dart in past weapon defense for the kill. Over all of them, however, was the lively voice of Luionel Schwarz, who stubbornly insisted that his odd weapon of choice, the wrist mounted cog wheels, possessed the technological and ingenious edge over what he contemptuously labeled conventional weaponry.

Lastly, one remaining quartet of juveniles remained, having just arrived from the kitchens in time to hear the tail end of the visiting Queen's announcement. Though they wielded a variety of weapons, from tower shield to spiked boots to quarterstaff to twin sabers, these four were more concerned with building their bonds right now than building a sure-fire strategy to win the upcoming tourney. Sure, Esclaebon was a little recalcitrant, but the combined efforts of Kayrysanthe, Safirpia, and Skyonesse were enough to rouse him from his reluctance and get him communicating. If they could work together, perhaps they'd be the ones to rise to the top, after all, they did know the legends of the Knights of the Round Table.

The myths whispered eagerly by Kayry, Esclaebon, Safi, and Sky were ones well known to most kids their age, but no less grand for it. They talked of Glynda, the fabled Lady of the Lake, the gorgeous water spirit who'd given to King Osthur the blessed sword Trepinxcalibur. They recalled the deeds of Sir Shiralot, his zany antics and incredible feats of courage. They spoke of Roman, the Black Knight, a thief, warrior, and insurrectionist all rolled into a single villainous bundle. They decried the legitimacy of the grim Black Beast of Aagghh. They spoke in hushed tones of the worrisome tales surrounding Lady Emorgan le Faylicia, which painted her as a sorceress and a traitor to the throne.

As the trainees talked, ate, and left to begin their preparation for the tournament, a single figure watched from the shadows with resentment in his eyes. He'd been a knight, once...honored, and glorified, and uncontested on the field of battle. But then he'd been abandoned, forgotten, supplanted, replaced. His own aging father, Sir Beowolf, had bemoaned his companionship among the Knights of the Round Table, decrying them as 'Casual' and in his eagerness to depart to the realm of Advancedia had left his son completely and utterly alone. But now, this man had plans. He had set his eyes on a lofty goal: King Osthur himself. “Beware, oh king,” he whispered to himself, “For Mordreddius Bellum is come.”
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The Great, and rather awesome Fight Scene.


Ahh, the great outdoors. There was nothing finer in this world, espeically when the great outdoors was also going to be filled with the blood of a dead creature very soon. Maybe several dead creatures, depending on how the day turned out. Mokurdron, the woman with both a foxes tail and ears of a fox - those with the features of animals where considered strange and abnormal by most, but Mokurdron did not let such things bother her - stood outside the lair of the Black Beast of Aagghh and prepared to slay the great creature. Some said it was to gain the attention of Sir Shiralot The Loud, so she may begin a courtship with him, and push away both those who looked down on the 'Faunusi' - as people with animal appearances where called - and women in general. Others, however, thought that she was here for the lady Skyonesse, but many could not fathom the idea of a woman feeling love for another woman, and so that group of people was a small one. A third faction, one who knew more about the woman herself and wasn't simply spreading rumor, claimed that she was going there just to kill it, because she liked killing things.

However, regardless of the reason, the fox girl Mokurdron was there, and while there she saw a man in black armour fighting another knight. She wasn't quite sure if this was just a duel, or what, but it was over before she arrived, with the man in black killing his opponent. He then stood stock still, with his sword in the ground. Mokurdron paid him little mind and moved to walk past, but a deep rumbling came from the man, echoing from his helmet in what could only be called a powerful, ominous voice.
"None Shall Pass". It was basic, but to the point, and told Mokurdron exactly what she needed to know. But, not why.
"So, any reason why we can't pass, or is it just not passing for not passing's sake?" She asked, slightly confused and definately wanting clarrification. However, clarrification was not on the menu today.
"None Shall Pass" He replied, not wavering from them three words, in tone or dialect.
"Well, tough, because I have to pass" She retorted, getting slightly annoyed at him for this whole deal.
"Then you shall die" The man in the black armour told her, before raising his sword and moving to slay the plucky young fox girl, trying to cut her down in her prime. At least, that was the plan. What actually happened was the Mokurdron, no stranger to fights and well skilled with both sword and shield, blocked the strike and the several that followed. He was rather a bad swordsman, she realized. Absently, Mokurdron wondered how he had managed to win the fight, but then came back to reality, bashed the hilt of her sword against his helment, and cut off one of his arms with her red sword, before planting a strong kick in his chest. He slid back and bled out of his wound, but didn't seem entirely phased.
"Ok, now stand aside. You couldn't best me with two arms, and I don't really want to kill you" she told him, but the man in black armour looked at his arm, and then back to her before speaking.
"Tis but a scratch!" He exclaimed, nonsensically.
"A scratch? I cut your bloody arm off!" The fox cried back, but to little avil.
"No you didn't" he denied. So, Mokurdron pointed to his arm with her sword
"What's that then?" She asked him, exasperated with his antics. Then she was attacked again, and the blade narrowly missed her. The stupidity of this man seemed a ploy to take his opponents off guard. After she blocked several more swings, he lost the second arm as well, which, in Mokurdron's eyes, finished up the fight. However, The man in Black Armour had other plans, and launched a kick in Mokurdron's direction. Such an action irritated her, and she rounded on him in fury.
"Look you muddle-headed knave, you have no arms left. Leave me be or I shall turn you into mince-meat" she threatened, but the man in black armour was not in any way leaving her alone.
"I have had worse! Now fig-" he started before Mokurdron sliced clean threw both legs in one swipe, and then cut his body in half while it was falling. Still unperturbled, the man wriggled, slightly, and moved his head. "I'll bite your legs off!".
"How are you even going to get your helmet off?" Mokurdron asked, rather confused on that point,
"I'll think of something. The Black Knight always triumphs!" He shouted, but Mokurdron had already moved on, with a simple 'not this time you haven't'. "Come back you coward! Yellow-bellyed, Onion-eyed oaf! You Ill-born fen-rat!". The flurry of curses did not seem to bother the fox girl however, and so the Black Knight, as he called himself, was left to wallow in so many pieces.

Further on, Mokurdron finally came to the cave of the Black Beast of Arrgh, With the delay the Black Knight had given her, she felt as if this creature could not get killed fast enough. She needed to report the strange man to King Arthpin anyway. Or Merlin Goodwitch, she seemed the better choice, since the King was a busy man, and Mokurdron would feel more comfortable talking to the woman of Magic instead. of the King. She could have a conversation about the strange man's Power of the Soul while she was at it. That thing that the magickals of court called a 'Semblance'. Of course, with the Black Beast of Arrgh's standing as such a grand Grimm, there where lesser Grimm around it's cave, Some creatures that looked akin to wolves, but where larger and more vicious. Belgawulfs, they where called. But, Mokurdron didn't really care about the names, since she was just going to kill them. They charged her as soon as she saw her, coming in a pack, hoping to overwhelm her. It didn't work. The one at the head of the back got a blade through it's skull, and the second was smashed to one side by her shield. Mokurdron then finished off the rest of the back with grace, until finally the last creature dissolved into nothing. Pathetically easy, she thought. Some Knights struggled with one or two of them, and they did not deserve their title when much greater warriors had nothing to go on but their skills. But, this would change everything, and she knew it. So, Mokurdron headed inwards, navigating the cave tunnels until she finally came across a many-eyed beast with a large maw and a ravionious fire in it's eyes. But, she had spent many hours pouring over scrolls detailing the Grimm, and had comfortably found it's weakspot, the way to defeat it without to much of a problem. Reaching into her pouch as it roared and smapeded towards her, Mokurdron withdrew a large Herring, and threw it at the Grimm. The Black Beast of Arrgh was allergic to Herring, and so it shed away swiftly, growing it's disdain, until Mokurdron drove her blade deep into the beast's chest. After one tug, she realized it was not going to come out easily, so she bashed it's head in with her shield until there it finally, dissolved, freeing her sword.
"Well, that was fun" she exclaimed to herself, picking up the sword and sheathing it in it's scabbard, before leaving the cave, going past the Black Knight who was still sprewing insult, and onto the gathering point of the Hunters, greatest warriors in the lands, and those who clensed the world of Grimm. The name 'Beacon' inspired thoughts and feelings of grand adventure in many who heard it, and Mokurdron was no different. There, she would find her calling, hopefully. It would, at very least, making killing Grimm her job.
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Name

The De Luca Family

History

The De Luca Family is one of the oldest crime families still running in Vale and one of the most powerful as well. Alvise De Luca immigrated to Vale with his mother, father, and siblings, hoping to find a better living by setting up a small mom and pop shop in one of Vale’s poorer districts. When the Giordano Family, the most powerful crime family at the time, came by and “politely” asked for protection money, Alvise’s proud father refused to submit. In anger, the Giordanos returned with more convincing firepower. Alvise’s father still refused, ending the thugs’ patience and giving him and the rest of of his family, with the exception of Alvise, a chest full of lead and a sleep with the fishes.

After that traumatizing experience, Alvise vowed vengeance and led a one-man war on the Giordano Family. As the young man’s raids gained more and more success from experience, he began to bring hope to many of the oppressed citizens of the Little Vaccuo district. What had previously been a one-man operation, soon became large enough to rival the Giordano Family’s numbers. Financing such a large group was not easy though, and soon Alvise and his associates soon became no better than the criminals they were fighting. It wouldn’t be until another thirty years when Duilio De Luca, Alvise’s son, came to power that the group officially named themselves a mafia family.

Administration

Nico De Luca is the current Don of the De Luca Family. He keeps a small council of his closest friends and advisors who he consults with when making large decisions that will affect the family as a whole.

Society

The organization is seen as extremely dangerous and if you ever meet a member, it’s best to keep them on your good side. However, the De Luca’s are very picky with recruitment and are very good at rooting out the hot-headed members of their group. It is not often that a De Luca member will randomly start trouble, though it is not completely improbable.

Assets

This family works no differently than most other mafia families and has its own Don, underboss, gangsters, etc. It owns most businesses in the Little Vaccuo district of Vale as well as several outside of the district, all of them fronts for illegal activities. It would also not be uncommon to hear about a large political figure in Vale to have connections to the De Luca Family, if the organization didn’t hide its tracks so well.

Size

5,000. (Took a few days of research, but I finally found how large the average mafia is.)
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ANIMAM BONAM




pax

The Order of Animam Bonam is an international humanitarian and religious group affiliated to the Mistralese Church. Its reach can be found amongst communities all across the world of Remnant, with its members (known colloquially as Animists) seeking to pattern themselves after the order’s founder, Saint Umbria of Mistral, and preach the partisanship and charity espoused by him prior to their founding. Its tenets of providing aid to the needy, community values and engaging in social work have endured throughout its four centuries of existence, and has contributed much to Remnant through the actions of its members.

At first known as the Friends of Poverty, the Order has grown from its original roots as a community of secular clergy working across Mistral to direct their flocks in the teachings of the Lord through the manner in which Umbria did to a large, widespread group that is open to all members of the Church, whether they be laity or clergy, as long as they have not vowed themselves to any other religious order.

The current King-Elect of Mistral, Tzimiskes III, is a member of the Order of Animam Bonam.

History:

Originally established four hundred years ago as a monastic order of the Mistralese Church, the original and continuing tenets of Animam Bonam have been to provide humanitarian aid across the world of Remnant, as well as engage in charity and social justice work. Its founder was the preacher, Giovanni Faroald (later Saint Umbria), who sought to assist the struggling populace of his kingdom following the devastation wrought by the Mistral Civil War. At first, he lacked the approval of the Church Patriarch, whose attentions were focused on mediating peace between the factions of the War, to found an order, and so was limited to activities within his home village, where he preached and established a community network between the people, espousing a common fraternity and convincing them to assist one another in any way possible. He was said to have frequently visited the homes of the villagers and helped them in their day-to-day activities, as well being incredibly dedicated to his duties, engaging in prayer and providing what he could to all of those he met.

It was from these humble beginnings that the Animam Bonam took shape, with the Mistralese Church noticing his activities after a metropolitan travelled through his town and reported his activities to the Patriarch. The focus on community spirit and assistance intrigued the church head, and Giovanni was called up to the Capital, where he was granted audience with the Patriarch to discuss his activities. For seven days and seven nights, the two clerics spoke clearly and honestly together upon all that could be done for the peoples of Mistral and possibly the world, and upon the end of that week the fledgling order was granted the approval of the Patriarch, allowing to serve as in an official capacity as a deliverer of aid for all of the Mistralese Church’s flock. It sought no funding, no fame, and as members from across the city-state joined its banner, the newly-created Friends of Poverty began to grow.

By the time of Saint Umbria’s death, the Friends of Poverty had grown to be a moderately influential group amongst the villages that resided in the Kingdom of Mistral’s orbit, the devastation of the Civil War having brought many new recruits seeking to restore the stability and prominence of the city-state through performing charity work and assisting those trapped on the lowest rungs of society. Its indiscriminate approach and the zeal in which its followers sought to perform its duties endeared it significantly to the populace, and certain groups of the Friends even managed to breach into foreign realms, spreading the word of Umbria to the other three kingdoms despite the liturgical and ideological schisms between their Churches and that of Mistral’s.

During the era of rapid industrialisation, the Friends of Poverty would be conflated as a Faunus order subservient to the Church of Mistral due to the widening of the wage gap between the industry barons and the common people, and the Faunus, being the oppressed underclasses of society, suffered the most, further placing themselves in the jurisdiction of the FoP and swelling the community’s numbers with non-humans. The indiscriminate approach to assisting all those in need brought many Faunus into the fold of the Mistralese Church, a development clearly seen through the increasing proportion of them working amongst the Friends of Poverty.

Indeed, by the turn of the last century, the involvement of the Friends of Poverty in Faunus affairs had grown remarkably, and it would also be around this time that the order renamed itself Animam Bonam, citing the courageous spirit present in its flock as the reasoning behind the change of designation. They had also taken up a greater proselytising role amongst the Faunus population, with many of the non-human clergy in the organisation and the greater Mistralese Church seeking to save the souls of their brothers and sisters from the traditional paganism common to the Faunus groups dotted across Remnant. For a time, the order and by extension the Church was seen as relatively benevolent towards the Faunus peoples, with missionaries and clergymen present amongst their communities to provide aid, assistance and teaching.

This state of affairs continued for a period of time until Animam Bonam realised that Faunus culture was slowly being eroded as they were brought closer to the human mainstream, and immediately sought to reverse this by attempting to “preserve” the distinctive identity of the populace through numerous methods that proved increasingly inept and unwilling discriminative, before it all came to a head when Father Enkidu Humbaba, a leonic Faunus and influential member of Animam Bonam, called for segregation between human and Faunus cultures, having been deeply affected by his experiences during the Great War, where Faunus minorities had suffered tremendously even compared to previous conflicts. While the idea had originally been to divide the races into equal societies free of cultural contamination, it slowly grew from this egalitarian ideal into one strongly promoted by human supremacists who sought the eradication or suppression of all Faunus.

The original idea had been controversial amongst all members of the Mistralese Church, but it was the construction of “Menagerie” by the four kingdoms as a separate, isolated nation-state for the Faunus that inflamed the entire conflict. Many conflicting accounts abound, and the issues behind it were myriad, but the Faunus War and resulting Rights Revolution strongly involved the Order of Animam Bonam, as members of it had also supported the apartheid in possibly well-meaning attempts at further promoting the cause of justice and charity. However, the group as a whole became an unwitting instigator of the conflict’s base issues, and the scandal has been one that continues to this day.

Faunus participation in the Order of Animam Bonam and the Mistralese Church has reduced tremendously since the Revolution, with the former’s reputation having tanked immediately during the aftermath. However, the devotion by the remaining members and new recruits to atoning for the issues they wrought through zealously pursuing social justice and charity across the world, especially in high-profile incidents such as the Western Vytal Earthquake, has slowly begun to mediate the perception many hold towards it.

As of recent, the Church of Vale has also established a brother order to the Animam Bonam, one that shares the same tenets but lacking in the traditions and history that the “friends of poverty” possess.

Governance:

During its earliest years, the Order of Animam Bonam was decentralised, with all its members, whether they be laity or clergy, equal under the authority of the Church Patriarch. Its founder, Giovanni Faroald, was merely first amongst equals, his words held as up as the ideal that all members strove for. They were simply organised under two rules: “to commit to charity no matter the cost” and to “love all that exists as brothers and sisters”, emphasising the Church teachings that they had derived their existence from. It would be in this form that the order first spread across the lands, a loosely organised mass of well-meaning people who communicated to one another through the Church itself. There was little real oversight, with successive Patriarchs having undertaken hands-off approaches to the Animists, and the order continued to grow and increase in number.

This manner of governance would vary over time however, with certain periods signalling stronger centralisation or simply a loosely affiliated group of members working for the same cause. Once, the Church Patriarch himself had served as both a source of legitimacy and the head for Animam Bonam, having been previously a supporter himself. With the dawn of the contemporary era and the advancements in communications technology, however, there has been a change to the management of the group, with the myriad Animist communities scattered across Remnant finally capable of bridging gaps between one another without need to cross hostile lands.

Animam Bonam today is split into four sees, with each of Remnant’s four kingdoms and surrounding areas serving as the jurisdiction of the groups that reside in the flexibly-defined borders. The leadership and coordination of activities within these sees are typically left to the entire community as a whole, though the words of the more experienced clergy members will be considered in a more important light in comparison to those of the laity of newcomers to the Church and Order. Each see, however, does possess the position of a Listener-Minister, who are elected by popular vote to a five-year term as the representative of the kingdoms’ population of Animists in official settings and liaisons with the main body of the Mistralese Church.

In essence, the Patriarch of the Church also serves as the Minister-General of the Order of Animam Bonam as a whole, though a stand-in will be appointed if he has already sworn oaths to another holy order. It is through him that any order-wide actions can be undertaken, and only if four Listener-Ministers have agreed and brought the issue to his attention for approval. It is only at this level that such bureaucracy common amongst other Church groups exists, for otherwise, it is one that is far more decentralised and independent. Even the Patriarch himself, though the head of the order, cannot dismantle or affect it too heavily, for its processes are dependent on the grassroots activities carried out by its members rather than any unifying council at the top.

Society:

As with all other members of the Church of Mistral, those affiliated with the Order of Animam Bonam participate in prayer every Friday, the day of mourning and acknowledgement of the deeds performed by the Heroic Twelve Martyrs centuries ago to bring them salvation and freedom from injustice. It is the focus upon fighting the unjust that serves as the lynchpin of the community spirit espoused by Giovanni Faroald in the past, and so the weekly sermons of churches affiliated with the Order place great emphasis on bringing about social justice developments, with the majority of teachings usually falling upon the issue of poverty. To go out of one’s way to help those who are helpless, to engage in fraternity and kindness; these are the organising principles that drive Animists, and so they are commonly known to be generous and patient people whose diligence to their beliefs can be considered without par.

The majority of Animists are found in the farming communities that lie within the orbit of Mistral proper, as it was there that the order first took root. Many of the traditions and practices of Animam Bonam have been derived from the habits of the lay people of centuries past, such as the hosting of harvest festivals that provide food to all equally, as well as the strong emphasis on donating to charities (from the tithes that would be paid to Saint Umbria so that he could disperse it amongst the population of his village). Indeed, even though the order has now achieved an international reach, it is very much still a down-to-earth, country community, synergising the teachings of the Church with the traditions existent in villages where Mistralese clergy have found themselves.

This has ensured that while sharing the same basic tenets, different areas of Animam Bonam may have different rituals, having developed them prior to the increased globalisation of Remnant’s four kingdoms. As such, the traditions of the majority that are the Mistral-based Animists will not share certain activities and beliefs with those who reside in the Religion Quarter of Vacuo. However, the effects of globalisation have begun to show, with the communications technology of the era now allowing the disparate groups of Animists to further influence one another.

Animists can be found all across the world, with the largest populations being in the Mistral countryside and within the city-state. Their presence can be found in every other kingdom as well, with 90% of the Mistralese clergy in Vacuo’s Religion Quarter having inherited their teachings and beliefs from the order of Animam Bonam. Other major concentrations include villages near Menagerie, remnants from the conflicts of the Faunus Rights Revolution.

Assets:

Due to its decentralised governance, the Order of Animam Bonam possessions that are unique to itself rather than to the entire Church at large, the promotion of acting humbly and in poverty by their teachings not being particularly conductive to the acquisition of any goods or materials, nor has their order collected its share of relics like its fellows in the Church. However, it is not without its share of funds, being highly effective at fundraising enough to provide for its humanitarian activities. In the past, these funds were greater, but following the disasters of their involvement in the Rights Revolution and a temporary dissolution by one of the crazed Borgia Patriarchs, the current economic state of Animam Bonam can be considered quite weak.
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