Good afternoon world! I'm back! Sorry its been a while since I posted, well, anything. Things have gotten crazy busy on my end. Applying to a master's programme, work, painting my warhammer army, running my first pathfinder campaign, its a lot. For those of you waiting on the For Balance For Honor update, keep calm, its in the works. I've also got some ideas for some other crossover oneshots I might work on when I cant get anything else done, trying to dodge around those writer's blocks yknow?
Anycase, this is the start of my lastest crossover fic, between the unrepentant Owl House and the devishly endearing Cult of the Lamb. If anyone is not familiar with the latter, this is your warning for any darker themes that might crop up. Violence, eldritch horror, ritual sacrifice, that sort of thing. Also, I am going to be trying to write shorter, more consice chapters, try to keep updates more regular. I will start this story off with two chapters.
Disclaimer: This story was conceptualized and writing started before the recent Relics of the Old Faith update dropped. I'm writing this as if it hadn't, but I'll probably steal anything worth taking.
Please review and leave concrit if you feel like it.
With that said, please join me in prayer, praise the Lamb and allow me to introduce you to:
Boiled Lamb
What does it mean to become a god?
Does one really live beyond the thoughts and prayers of their flock?
What is there to covet, when one has everything?
What is forever beyond their reach. That is the answer.
~|o|~
It was a humid, midsummer's night in Anura. The air was heavy and thick with spores floating about, wandering from their mushroom parents in search of a seedbed to call their own. Whether it was the side of a rotting tree or the lungs of a living host they cared not. The dark was dotted with the soft glow of the more benign species of bioluminescent fungi.
It was auspiciously tranquil, a far cry from the usual savagery that would echo out at all times of the day beneath the redcaps, whose size could rival that of the great trees of Darkwood. One always knew not to tread through the lands of the old faith, for fear of being captured by the fanatical followers of the slain Bishops of the Old Faith, or ripped apart by some demon foolishly summoned from beyond the veil.
The danger had only gotten worse in the past few years since the region's ruler, Heket, lordess of famine met her end. While her methods were cruel and her hunger insatiable, even a tyrant can create a facsimile of order. An order that was shattered once she was slain in an act of divine vengeance, the dirt being fed upon her blood.
Now her former followers wandered aimlessly, lashing out at whatever they came across if not themselves in their misguided zealotry. So addicted and dependent on their dark master's power and command, the sudden disconnection upon her death inflicted them with a great need for sustenance. No matter how much they ate, nothing could appease their cravings. Produce and game stores dried up almost immediately before the cultists turned to more abhorrent sources of food in their desperation.
Twas the purpose of the gathering taking place in the middle of a clearing of the tall grass and giant fungus. Vaguely animal shaped lumps melded with their stems twitched and moaned, sacrifices to the forest and the fallen bishop.
But the piglet dressed in rags, currently lashed to the stone table was not for the mushrooms. No, it was for the fanatics cloistered around him in a semicircle. Robes drawn and hoods pulled over their heads, their daggers glistened in the low torchlight along with drool dripping from their faces.
The piglet shivered in their torn rags, not from a lack of warmth but the leader of the band stepping forward, facing their brethren. They raised their hands and curved, sacrificial dagger to the nightsky.
"Oh great Heket, Spawnmother and She Who Devours! Please bless this unworthy meal as to give us the strength to kill in your holy name!" They crowed.
"P-Please! Please don't eat me!" The piglet whimpered, straining against their bindings.
"Silence meat!" The leader hissed. "It is the place of the weak to be consumed and the duty of the strong to consume it!"
"Enough talk! Let's feast!" Another cultist snarled, paws clasping their weapon impatiently.
The piglet weeped as the dagger was lifted overhead, ready to plunge into their stomach. He begged for help! From his parents, slaughtered before his eyes. His sister, who he lost as they ran for their lives. Anyone!
The dagger flashed, then-
An inhuman wail and a flash of red light! The cultist leader couldn't even scream as a blast of energy engulfed him, sending their charred corpse soaring over the table. All the cultists turned and shrieked. The piglet twisted around in their restraints and gasped in awe.
Standing at the entrance of the clearing, smoke curling from their outstretched palm was a lamb. A red and white cloak was draped over their snow white fleece and brunette fur, a round, golden bell hanging from their neck. Their eyes burned with a red light, cold fury emanating from their depths. Atop their brow nestled between their stubby horns was a black crown, a crimson eye blazing like a fire as it regarded the clearing's inhabitants with disdain.
The piglet had never seen or met this lamb before, but he knew who they were. Their name spat hatefully from his captors as they lamented the loss of their beloved leader.
It was-
"THE GREAT HERETIC!"
"KILL IT! VENGEANCE FOR HEKET!" The cultists cried as they charged, weapons drawn.
The lamb held out their hand and their crown dissolved like water, running down their arm and forming a broadsword in their grasp, the red eye embedded in the crossguard. Their lips stretching into a smirk, they ran to meet their opponents head on.
The piglet whined in fear, slamming their eyes shut. What immediately followed was a cacophony of battlecries, screams and the sound of tearing or burning flesh. He didn't know what was happening or who was winning, but he couldn't bring himself to watch.
There was also the fact that he didn't know if he wanted to root for the lamb or not. For all he knew, his supposed savior was just as much as a ravenous monster as his captors. It was all happening too fast for him to think rationally. Instead all he could do was shake and hope that none of the flying blades or the lamb's dark magic would hit him.
After what felt like an eternity, there was one last scream of terror followed by a wet slashing sound and a gurgle. Then all was silent. The piglet craned his ears and shook as footsteps drew closer until they stopped right by his side.
He cracked his eyes open and his stomach leapt into his throat. The lamb towered over him, eyes brimming with red, malevolent power. There was a splash of blood on their cheek and judging from the lack of visible wounds, it wasn't their own.
The lamb raised their blade skyward and the piglet squealed, having been in this exact position not minutes ago.
They swung down and his blood went cold, expecting to feel a blow that didn't come. The ropes fell away from the table.
"Wha…what?" He tripped over his words as he held his hands out.
The lamb's sword melted and shifted back into its original form atop his head. With a blink the red energy vanished, replaced with the horizontal pupils typical of caprinaes. Ones looking down at him with an eerie calm.
"Jay-aan I hope?" The lamb asked in a soft, comforting voice.
The piglet blinked in shock and nodded dumbly. "H-How do you know my name?"
"One of my followers, your sister, begged of me to find you."
"Ja-len! M-My sister's alive?!" Jay-aan gasped, hope sprouting from inside him like a flower.
"Yes and she is very worried about you. Come with me. You two will be safe with my flock." The lamb said, holding out his hand.
Jay-aan glanced at it hesitantly, before his hope to be reunited with his sister prevailed and he took it.
~|o|~
Another day, another successful crusade. It was morning as he led his young charge from the swirling black rift to the front gate of the commune. The air was lighter and more cold than that of Anura, crisp even. He relished the feeling of the nice, cool air filling his nostrils as he took a deep breath.
Jay-aan stumbled behind him, having been his first time experiencing magical shortcuts.
"Welcome to my home." Lambert announced with a flourish, drawing an awed gasp from the young swine. "It may not be much, but it's ours."
He was playing up his humility of course. The commune had come a long way since he had started with nothing but a clearing filled with moss covered ruins, overgrown with grass and trees. He had nothing but a wooden shrine, a small chapel and a few grass-beds to his name then.
Now it was a veritable paradise, at least compared to the lands of the old faith. Clean, cobblestone paths divided the commune into its districts. Gone were the grass-beds, replaced with cozy tents and small cabins. Rows upon rows of watered and weedless farm plots sat laden with nature's bounty, more than enough to provide for the whole village turned town. Flowers and statues lined the path to the double doors of the great cathedral, all of it graciously tended, the steeple bell gleaming in the rising sun. At the center of it all was the first shrine to his glory, a statue made in his likeness draped in red silk, wreathed in gold and crying black tears of joy.
"Its… it's… wow…"
A wry smile broke his practiced veneer. It never got old seeing the first reaction of new converts. It helped make every effort and sacrifice worth it.
"Come." He gently pulled the child along with a hand on his back. "Let us get you settled in. You'll want to get comfortable before the morning sermon."
He led him down the steps from the gate and the portal circle. A muscular ox and bear stood guard at the foot of the stone arch in the red and white tunics of the cult. They leaned on their spears as they yawned only for their eyes to bug out at his approach and stand straight.
"Hark! Cheer and be merry at the return of He Who Liberates! Praise be!" They cried out and he chuckled.
"Yes, yes. Praise me. Excellent work keeping everyone safe, my children, but do try to get enough sleep before your vigil."
The two sentries sighed in relief that they weren't getting punished and bowed their heads as he passed. Jay-aan gawked in awe at his authority over such intimidating animals.
Awakened by the sentry's declaration of their arrival, several members of his congregation exited their domiciles, blurry eyed as they tried to shake off the dregs of sleep. They cheered and sang as they flocked to him, offering praise and rejoicing at his victorious return. He basked in their love, their faith, all of it washing over him like an invigorating bath. Meanwhile his newest charge hid behind his back, though he didn't avoid notice for long.
"Oh! And who is this little one?" An elderly cat leaning on her cane pointed at Jay-aan, who shrunk as all eyes turned to him.
"This is Jay-aan. I ventured out to Anura in search of him at the plea of his sister. Not a moment too soon I might add."
"H-Hi.." The young swine waved nervously.
Another follower, an axolotl blinked. "His sister? You mean-"
"Move! Out of my way!" A frantic voice cried out, an adolescent pig pushed through the crowd until she came to a stop in the center and gasped. "Jay-aan!"
The younger sibling's eyes widened. "Big sis Len!" He said, leaving the lamb's side and throwing himself into her arms.
"By the lamb, I'm so happy you are safe little brother!" She let out a relieved sob, tears streaking down the sides of her snout.
"Me too! I was so scared! They were going to eat me big sis!" He mumbled into her shoulder, clutching at her tunic.
"Well you're safe now Jay. We both are. No more running for us."
"You promise?"
"Piggie swear!" She said, the two of them breaking into porcine snorts, eliciting aws from the crowd around them.
His quest fulfilled, the lamb silently extricated himself from the gathering and headed in the direction of the chapel. While he was used to being the center of attention, he felt it was the best idea to let the estranged siblings have their tearful reunion.
"It is so good to see you are well my lord." He turned and smiled.
It was his recordkeeper Feki. Despite being a young crow, she had a great affinity for mathematics and loved reading, making them the ideal choice for the more administrative aspects of the cult. He considered her a literal godsend when he first learned of her talents, as the growing size of the cult made keeping track of every little thing overwhelming.
"And a good day to you my child. I hope the morning finds you well."
Feki smiled back and fixed the round rimmed glasses balanced on her beak. "One always wakes on the right side of the bed, living in paradise. I assume the new arrival is Ja-len's lost brother?"
"You assume correct." He nodded.
"Shall I add the boy to the ledger?" She asked, cracking open the thick, leatherbound book forever carried in her wing as well as her writing charcoal.
"I say it's a safe bet that he will be staying, if the story Ja-len told is true. Anything happen while I was gone?
"Not much thankfully." Feki muttered, flipping through her records. "There was a little scuffle over a stolen necklace, but the Faith Enforcers broke it up and resolved the conflict fairly quickly. Aside from that, there WAS one incident with Nathemar concerning the… outhouse."
"Again?" He groaned, rubbing his brow. "Our farms are plentiful and the food stores are fit to burst, I thought we were done with that sort of thing. Okay, memo to me, call Nathemar for a chat in the confession booth after the morning sermon."
"Nathermar… booth… after sermon…" Feki hummed as she penned it down.
"Thank you. Anything else?"
"Actually yes, my lord!" The crow perked up in a rare display of outward excitement. "I was feeling a little bored the other night and decided to do the monthly census a bit early. I discovered that combining the attendance of the commune and the numbers given from villages and settlements who have sworn you fealty, we have now surpassed a thousand followers!"
He blinked. "Oh. Oh wow. That is… quite a number." He said in shock. It only made sense. With the leaders of the old faith slain and their faiths shaken, it was no wonder that his religion would be the only attractive alternative.
Even so, it was still mind boggling that they had made it this far. He should feel proud of it more than anything.
That wasn't quite what he felt.
He cleared his throat, not letting it show. "Well, between that and our newest convert, I'd say that earns a feast, don't you agree Feki?"
"O-Oh yes my lord! Shall I start making preparations?" She asked, eager as ever to serve.
"No thank you. I think I will surprise everyone during the sermon. See you there."
"Yes, of course. I look forward to it." She bowed deeply and left.
He turned back to the chapel road and let out a sigh.
"U-Um, excuse me?" Only to be halted again by another voice. Craning his head he plastered the smile back on time to register the pig siblings approaching reverently.
"Ja-len, Jay-aan. Is everything alright? Has your brother decided to join us?"
The older pig beamed. "Yes! After so long, the two of us are together again. We have no reason to leave."
"Yeah! It's so nice here mister!" Jay-aan nodded ecstatically only to get a quick pinch from his sister.
"No, no! Like I said Aan!" She hissed.
"Oh, right! I-I mean great master!" He corrected himself, getting a laugh from the woolen leader.
Ja-len flushed and coughed. "A-Anyway, we just wanted to thank you for bringing us back together. The rest of our family are dead, our parents murdered by heretics of Heket, just because she found pigs especially… tasty. We got separated when we were on the run and I feared the same for my brother." She placed a protective hand on his shoulder as he hugged her side. "But just when I was about to lose hope, you saved him. We are forever in your debt my lord." She knelt and bowed her head, her brother taking a second to follow her lead.
Waves of gratitude and devotion radiated from the two, an energy unseen to all but a crown bearer, all of it swallowed by the one atop his brow. Every crystalized drop served to strengthen its already considerable power.
The first time it had occurred it had been such a rush! Like he had been flooded with fuel for his inner fire, growing and crackling as it was fed.
Now it was like throwing blades on grass on a roaring inferno. Hardly noticeable. It had been that way for a while now.
"Think nothing of it other than the duties of a shepherd to his flock." He said humbly. "See you at the sermon!"
"It will be glorious, master!"
"Thanks again!" They cheered, Jay-aan waving goodbye as he got led away, likely to be fitted with his own tunic.
He waved back as he watched them go. Only when they had finally turned their backs did he let his smile slip and he let out another heavy breath.
He couldn't explain it, but as he watched the two pigs walk away hand in hand…
There was a sharp, burning sensation in his chest, he couldn't quite place what it was.
His eyes drifted to the great shrine, to the statue of himself, its arms outstretched and welcoming smile on its stone face.
If it could speak, it'd probably tell him to just be happy already.
He should be.
The cult leader shook his head, his bell jingling and he sucked in a breath.
He needed to get over whatever was bothering him. Surely a rousing sermon followed by a great feast will lift his spirits.
He grinned and turned to the chapel once more.
The flock wasn't going to lead itself!