Eorzean Faiths

See also: Lore, Far Eastern Faiths and The Saints of the Twelve

With the diverse tenets of Far Eastern religion freshly imprinted upon one’s mind, one may wish to reexamine the faiths of Eorzea, and indulge in a study of comparative mythology. Such academic exercises can often lead to the discovery of commonalities between cultures that might otherwise be overlooked.

Religious Institutions

Eorzeans worship a pantheon of gods known as the Twelve, and it is customary for individuals to choose a singular patron deity whom they revere above all others. This decision is generally influenced by the divinity’s association with a number of key factors, including a person's origin (homeland, race, or clan), nameday and other special dates, or the nature of ones occupation or calling in life.

Even as each of the major city-states is identified by its chosen patron deity, one can also encounter sizable religious institutions founded upon a more dedicated form of worship. The dragon-besieged city of Ishgard, for example, adopted Halone not only as its guardian goddess, but also installed her as the central figure of the Ishgardian Orthodox Church—the nation’s official religion. The following sections provide an in-depth look at the history and doctrine of several present-day organizations which maintain a significant number of devotees.

Although the people of Gridania have taken Nophica, The Matron, as their goddess, no denomination has ever been founded upon Her worship. This is due in part to the unique relationship the nation has with the Twelveswood's enigmatic elementals, and the near-religious faith Gridanian society places in the mediations of the Elder Seedseer and her Hearers.

The Order of Nald'Thal

At the head of what is the primary religion of Ul'dah for all practical purposes, the Order of Nald’thal is an organization devoted to the god of commerce and overseer of the underworld, Nald’thal is traditionally depicted as either a single god of dual aspect, or as twin deities, but it is this latter interpretation that the Order has embraced, encouraging the worship of Nald and Thal as distinct entities. According to the Order’s teachings, the twin Traders each preside over their own domain: Nald, the world of the living and Thal, the halls of the dead. Milvaneth Sacrarium, the temple of Nald, is crowded with pious merchants seeking to curry favor and fortune in this lifetime. Conversely, the Arrzaneth Ossuary, temple of Thal, is most popular with the destitute and the downtrodden, who pray for wealth in the realm of death. As might be expected, the afterlife is a central pillar in the Order of Nald’thal’s system of belief. The Arrzaneth Ossuary is also responsible for performing funerary rites, and it is through the destructive dweomers employed to prepare the dead that its priests perfected the art of thaumaturgy. It is common knowledge that the foundation for these magicks was laid in the long-sundered city of Belah’dia, the eldritch roots of which can be further traced back to the ancient civilization of Mhach. It is also well documented, however, that Belah’dia’s guardian deity was Azeyma, keeper of the sun, providing stark evidence that the path of arcane and religious legacies need not always converge.

With an eye to preserving Ul’dah’s wealth, the learned priests of the Order have long served the royal family in the capacity of lawmakers and administrators. In this privileged position they are often approached by merchant princes and the like who scheme to sway legislation in their favor with ostentatious offerings of coin. Such secular dealings earn the scorn of the more spiritually-minded members of the clergy, but Prioress Dewlala, with her seat secure on the Syndicate, shows no sign of relinquishing either her or her organization’s worldly authority.

The Ishgardian Orthodox Church

The Ishgardian Orthodox Church is the dominant religion of Ishgard, and the archbishop, the church’s elected leader, has also traditionally served as the nation’s head of state. Once an institution of undisputed authority, the tumultuous culmination of the Dragonsong War exposed deceptions woven throughout church-sanctioned history, leaving the clergy reeling in the aftermath of the damning revelations.

According to scripture, the Ishgardian Orthodox Church was founded in the 545th year of the Sixth Astral Era by its first archbishop, a man later canonized as Saint Reymanaud. In an announcement made by Ser Aymeric de Borel, lord commander of the Temple Knights and speaker of the House of Lords, that date was revealed to be false—with a true history marking the church’s establishment at over one-hundred and fifty years prior. It was roughly around the year 360 when the Elezen, forced north into Abalathia’s Spine by Hyuran expansion, began the standardization of their faith with the construction of a temple to Halone in the highlands of Coerthas. The settlers’ decision to adopt the Fury as a patron deity was likely influenced to no small degree by the ever-present threat of hostile dragons. A decade later, however, the tragedy of Saint Shiva and the great wyrm Hraesvelgr prompted a truce between Elezen and dragon, and for the next several generations, the church’s teachings centered upon the principles of peaceful coexistence.

This harmony was shattered in the year 545 with King Thordan’s heinous betrayal of the First Brood, and his subsequent death. Bereft of a monarch, the remaining knights twelve—the forefathers of the four High Houses—colluded with the high-ranking clergy to elevate Reymanaud to the position of archbishop, and confer upon him the powers of the throne. They then proceeded to fabricate and disseminate a history which concealed the wrongdoings of the past, and supported the creation of the type of bureaucracy necessary to govern a nation at constant war. Ultimately, the corruption of the faith’s core precepts was simply a means to paint the Dravanians as villains, and lend a holy legitimacy to the atrocities of the Dragonsong War—justice and morality played no part in its evolution. These truths have summoned forth a storm of reprisals, and sweeping reform is taking place under the newly established government. Adherents are seeking to restructure the Holy See and reevaluate its teachings to bring the Ishgardian Orthodox Church back to its roots.

Bearing the name of the church’s inaugural archbishop, Saint Reymanaud’s Cathedral is said to have been built on a base of the very stone used in the construction of Ishgard’s founding temple to Halone. With every facet of the Enchiridion now called into question, however, the veracity of this statement is the subject of much debate.

Orthodox cathedrals are not considered complete without at least one towering statue of Halone, girt for battle. Gallant warriors who fell in the holy war against the Dravanians were believed to enter the gates of the Fury’s palace, and receive warm welcome in Her icy halls.

Rhalgr's Reach was constructed at the base of the Temple of the Fist, and is believed to have been graced by the presence of the Destroyer Himself - thus marking it as a favores training ground for monks. The site remained a blackened ruin for long years following the execution of the mad king's murderous orders, but now serves as a stronghold for the Ala Mhigan Resistance .

The Fist of Rhalgr

When the lands of Eorzea were drowned by the Sixth Umbral Calamity, some survived by following the trail of a blazing comet into the mountains of Gyr Abania. Believing Rhalgr sent His beacon to deliver them from death, these refugees were overcome with gratitude, and henceforth the breaker of worlds became their patron god and savior. Their united faith would eventually splinter into several factions, the largest of which was the “Fist of Rhalgr.” The unforgiving nature of life in the peaks encouraged the spread of their teachings—devotees trained mind and body to grow closer to the Destroyer's perfection, granting them the fortitude to survive no matter how brutal the struggle. This fervent conditioning also served Rhalgr’s disciples well against the region’s savage predators, and produced hardened soldiers for the mercenary trade.

Following a path of meditation and physical discipline, the adherents of the Fist of Rhalgr cultivated unique martial techniques, and forged themselves into a veritable army of warrior monks. And as their ranks swelled, so too did their presence, until eventually their influence on Gyr Abanian society grew too strong to be ignored. Instead of attempting to quell this rising power, however, the royal family of Ala Mhigo chose to enfold it into the nation’s own forces. The Fist’s religion became Ala Mhigo’s religion, and in return for the official recognition of their faith, the monks were bound to answer when turmoil threatened the state.

This relationship continued to the benefit of both parties for a time, but came to an abrupt and tragic end during the reign of the mad king Theodoric. The Fist’s outspoken elders were as a nettle in Theodoric’s side, and so the monarch proclaimed his authority the divine will of Nymeia, She who stands above Rhalgr. Predictably, the monks balked at Theodoric’s demands to venerate his royal person. As if on cue, the king’s soldiers proceeded to arrest every elder on grounds of treason, subjecting them to torture until they confessed to plans to abolish the throne. The prisoners were later executed for their “crimes,” and in the year 1552, Theodoric sent his forces to raze the Temple of the Fist and slaughter all who worshipped within. The monks were massacred in blood and fire, their order left a smoking ruin—yet in recent years, there has been news that a self-professed survivor has returned to Gyr Abania, and is even now rebuilding the lost glory of the Fist of Rhalgr.

Rhalgr is often depicted as a magus bearing a staff of bronze, and this appearance—coupled with his command over lightning—has seen scholars conflate the deity with Ramuh, the god of the sylphs. The theory claims that they are each species of the same ancient being, and that it is only the legends passed down by the different races that have given rise to the perception of two distinct deities.

Missionary Men

Though common worship of the Twelve has, without much aid, spread to the far corners of Eorzea, there are certain sects that have put forth tremendous effort to bolster their respective flocks. One historically has been the Church of Saint Zozonan the Shepherd which, during the early years of the 13th and 14th centuries of the Sixth Astral Era, funded countless missionary expeditions into the more remote areas of Aldenard and beyond. While these voyages would ultimately help to expand the borders of the day’s maps, the danger involved saw more than two of every three crews lost. The following is the record of one such tragic mission.

Day 1

Our bumble flock departed from Vesper Bay today on the Wind Walker - a ship of two masts, complete with a crew of thirty. The captain cells me that should the winds remain favorable, the journey to the Mazlaya Bay will take no more chan eight days and we will have landed on the Pearl before the new moon.

Day 3

My brothers and I are having a difficult time convincing the crew to join us in prayer. They are a ragged lor who seem more intent on gambling and celling cales of their exploits on Limsa's pleasure boats than praying to the gods who will keep this ship afloat. My faith is ever unwavering,but I cannot help but begin to question the necessity of spreading teachings of the Twelve when legions of unbelievers remain in our midst.

Day 4

For three days and nights our ship has sailed along the featureless Thanalan coast, finally reaching the promontory-Cape Deadwind- which marks Eorzea's southernmost point on the morning of the fourth. The great Sagolii Desert which has consumed the land beyond Vl'dab is an urter void of desolation. We saw not man nor beast nor tree nor shrub for the entirety of our journey. Surely the men who once lived there ( and bistorians would have us believe the land was once populated ) must have given great offense to the gods for them to lay the land so low. The captain bas pointed us due east, and I am glad to see this terrible land behind us.

Day 6

After making excellent time riding the northerly winds gusting down from the Strait of Merlebor, we set our course east, and since that very moment the wind bas refused to blow. The captain calls them the doldrums and says there is nothing to do but wait them out. The crew does not seem in any way concerned, and spend day and night drinking rum and cossing dice. My brothers and I continue our prayers alone below decks for it is all we are able.

Day 10

Still no sign of the winds picking up. The dingby which was cast off two mornings past with four men to explore the coast for a river or spring bas yet to return and is feared lost, or worse, abandoned. The stores of fresh food and animals bave all been consumed and now the captain has begun rationing our che worm - infested hard tack and salt pork. On a positive note, seven members of the crew have begun accending our sermons.

Day 16

The water ran out today, forcing us to turn to the ever plentiful barrels of rum stored in the ship's bold. Though it does not take a sailor to know that the rum will just beighten our thirst and drive us to madness all the swifter. The captain had to bang two men who had been plocting a mutiny ... as if a mutiny could somehow summon winds from the skies.

Day 20

Two days since the last drop of rum was drunk. Despite the captain's pleas, nearly half the remaining crew has jumped ship and attempted the over three - league swim to shore . The ones we witnessed dragged under by sharks will have most likely found a better end than the ones who actually make landfall. For them slow death in an endless desert is all that awaits. We will continue to pray.

Day 24

How I have survived this long, I do not know. To slake my chirst I have done the unthinkable I bave partaken of the very blood of a man who slit his own throat. Or was it I who slit his throat ? Will the Twelve forgive me? Or have they forsaken us? Does it even matter?

The Lambs Of Dalamud

In the throes of the sixth, and feared-to-be-final sun, fear and uncertainty ever, who sought a different prize—blood—and were not above treachery reigned supreme. While most struggled to simply find the will to endure, and deceit to fulfill their desires. Tales abound of hapless adventurers who some endeavored to take advantage of the waxing confusion. The most found themselves unwitting participants in enterprises most foul, pawns to common beneficiaries of this chaos were bandits and brigands who lined the dark hands that moved them about the board. The Lambs of Dalamud their pockets to bursting with ill-gotten coin. There were others, however, were one such consociation.

Seeds Most Dark

There is much speculation as to the true origins of the Lambs. Most believe their inception recent—perhaps as an attempt to find answers for the pandemonium that slowly unfolded in the final twenty summers of the Sixth Astral Era. Others better versed in imperial sociopolitics claim the cult a strategic plant by the Garleans—more specifically the VIIth Legion and Nael van Darnus—to slowly foster chaos in Eorzea while the Empire regrouped following their defeat at Silvertear Falls. And then there are still some who point back further, citing the infamous “lost” 4th Astral Era—a time when vague recollections of the Allagans? technical marvel overlapped with a re-embracing of religion would have proven the perfect sod for a lunar cult to take root and thrive. History is rife with records of ancient peoples who looked to the moon for guidance, the vestiges of those beliefs ever apparent in modern religion, most notably in the portrayal of Menphina, the Lover. While the name “Lambs of Dalamud” does not appear in any scholarly work older than the Sharlayan exodus, it may not be unreasonable to assume that they have mayhap existed, in some capacity, for countless millennia. This theory is further substantiated by the name Dalamud itself, a word whose linguistic origin appears to have been derived from Bahamut—the selfsame primal recently revealed to have been captured and exiled to the heavens by Allagans some five thousand summers previous.

Lambs doctrine teaches that Dalamud—loyal hound to the moon, Menphina—would one day heed the summons of His Flock and return to the Land to wreak havoc on the unfaithful. Only those who had proven their loyalty in life would be spared and led to their rightful place amongst the stars. It was commonly believed that this loyalty was best demonstrated through self-sacrifice in the upholding of their belief, and that the Hound, knowing the scent of His true followers, would come to collect them in the Seven Hells for the journey heavensward.

Content in the anonymity of their worship, the Lambs of Dalamud remained decidedly hidden from the public eye—that is, until a rare meteor shower drew the cult from the shadows. It is about this time members began to break their silence, claiming allegiance with the brotherhood, and actively working to recruit new members. Still, their actions did not warrant immediate alarm. Local governments often chose to ignore the cult, thinking their time would pass, as was the case with most fringe sects of Twelve worship—a sect being how most often the Lambs were categorized. It was not until the lesser moon changed hue that the direction of the Lambs’ actions took a dramatic turn—a violent one—as is documented in an incident at Owl’s Nest.

Blood Price

It is around this time that a nameless adventurer (recollections of the individual are vague, with little agreement as to race or gender) arrives in idyllic Owl’s Nest, nestled in a secluded valley in the Coerthas eastern lowlands. There he (or perhaps she) is approached by one of the hamlets respected elders. The man claims his wife has been abducted by the Lambs of Dalamud and taken north to Gwyr-Aen to be sacrificed. Sensing the severity of the situation, the adventurer agrees to rescue the wife; however, upon arrival at the ancient stone circle, he finds no helpless captive, only crazed cultists who are all too ready for him. The adventurer emerges victorious from the ensuing battle, but there are no cries for mercy from the fallen cultists, only shouts of elation, for they have been made martyrs in the eyes of their Lord savior. The rite is complete. The adventurer has spilled the blood that will summon Dalamud back to the realm.

Not ten summers past were the climes of Coerthas much milder, and rare was it that snow befouled the region’s rolling meadows and lush valleys. It was in one of these secluded dells that a small community of shepherds and farmers founded old Owl’s Nest. Here lived the cultist Foxe until his sudden disappearance come the fall of Dalamud.

Whither the Flock

Despite numbering in what religious scholars estimate to be the thousands, the Lambs of Dalamud all but disappeared from the public eye immediately following the fall of the lesser moon. Scattered reports from across Eorzea suggest there may still be factions that continue the blood rites; however, their numbers are insignificant. Whither, then, did all of the Lambs go? It is quite possible that the beliefs of those cultists who survived the Calamity were dismantled by the revelation Dalamud was naught but an iron prison for the aetherial manifestation of a long-dead wyrm. Having lost faith, they simply abandoned the cult and returned to their old lives. Word from the Far East, though, may suggest otherwise. Adventurers and traders have brought back with them tales of intrigue—a swelling of the ranks of those scattered tribes who pledge spiritual allegiance to the Dusk Mother, Nhaama, and the abductions that have followed. Is it merely coincidence, or could this prove the beginnings of something sinister? Only time will tell.