Enlightenment
	Ever since I first met my friend Sven Hoffner when he moved to Middenheim, I felt he was a little odd.  I used to blame it on the fact that he still had both his parents, but I've come to believe that there's genuinely something "special" about that dude.  When we were stupid young kids who didn't know any better, we used to lure little kids into alleys, and mug 'em.  Just for practice, I thought.  All we got were toys, though occasionally a silver piece or some stolen trinket.  After a couple months, that wasn't enough for Sven, he needed more.  Not richer prey, mind you, but richer thrills: he had to go and start punching them, too.  He really enjoyed growing into a bully role, and sometimes he didn't even want to take their stuff.  I often had to talk him into it.
	Ultimately, it was the punching that got us in trouble with the Middenheim lawmen.  After a dozen or so kids at Ulrich Mittenschule showed up with bandages on their face in the span of a week, the cops grew suspicious.  Sven was good at finding ways to make the brats keep quiet, but he wasn't expecting the tenacity of Middenheim's finest.  They threw Sven and I in kid-jail for 2 months.  It was the worst time of my life, and I swear if Sven had not been there with me ... damn, I dunno, maybe it would have been better.  I don't know why I still hang out with him.
	So here we are, three years after that unpleasant experience.  Sven's parents had a ... "conversation" with their boy, and now Sven doesn't beat anyone up anymore.  We still occasionally mug people, but we learned quickly that the cops don't care as much about the foreigners, so we leave the locals alone.
	Sven's parents are seriously devout Ulrichians, as is Sven .. now.  That's why they came here originally, foreign travelers wanting to glimpse the Eternal Flame.  So enamored they were, they settled and opened up a book shop.  His mom was a bit of a worm, you see, and had a knack for "acquiring" books.  Sales were slow, probably because no one can read, but they managed to scrape by until the guy next door came down with a case of Impetigo.  It spread fast, 'cause the guy sold fruits and vegetables, but Sven's parents only ate meat, so they never visited and managed to dodge the outbreak.  But it was bad for business.
	After the shopkeep died, the Hoffners haggled a killer deal on his place.  No one wanted to go near anything so recently plagued.  The Hoffners then did something I'd never heard of -- they bought half a barrel of whiskey, drenched the place, and lit it.  Seemed psycho at first, but the fire burned about as long as a piss before it choked itself out.  I guess it was some sort of funky blessing from their homeland or something, 'cause the Hoffners expanded into it and started making a pretty good living selling coffee and pastries to Middenheim's nobles.  And since most of them could read, the books started moving, too.  I swear, Sven's mom sold some books more than once.  She had balls!  "In the name of Ulrich," she used to say on the rare occasions when she was caught.  Then they'd let her go.  Most of the noble customers didn't mind, since it gave them a chance to get a book they otherwise might never see again.  I think in other cities, they call this a "librarie", but I've been stuck in Middenheim all my life.
	My Da wasn't much for religion, preferring instead the rewards of good work and an honest living as a carpenter.  Ever since Ma left on her pilgrimage, he and I grew close.  I hated him at times, but I loved him all the same.  It's what kids do, right?  He obviously wasn't happy when he found out why Sven and I were jailed, but once I got out, he didn't lecture me.  He never was much for talking, either. 
"Did you like that?" he asked.
I huffed, "Fuck no, Da.  I don't ever--"
"Good.  Decide if you want to live like the Hoffners, or like me."
We never spoke of it again.
	When the Hoffner's neighbor came down with Impetigo, Da was hit by it shortly thereafter.  Don't worry, he didn't die.  Well, not literally.  I did lose him, though ... to the Shallyans.  When he got sick, I knew his only chance was with them.  I wrapped him in a blanket, draped him over a horse, and stole off to the temple.  They were pretty busy dealing with Impetigo victims, but when they took a look at him, they got excited and brought him in.  They wouldn't let me see him, wouldn't let me near the infirmary in fact, even after I made a big donation.  They just said not to come back until Da returns home on his own.
	Three weeks later, Da stumbles in, looking as goofy as a noble in a bookstore, except with old clothes.  At first I thought he was still sick, but no, it was just the drink in him.  The drink that forever more would always be in him.  It wasn't just alcohol he fell in love with after visiting that temple.  It was a priestess, too.  The one that took care of him, I guess; he didn't say much, not even when he was drunk.
	Ever since then, Da got clumsy in his work.  Kept hitting himself with his hammer.  First his thumb, then the back of his hand.  Once on his noggin.  Cuts, too, though never very bad ones.  Still, every time he got injured, he'd hobble off to the Temple of Shallya and disappear for a day or two.  Whether it was the drink or the love didn't really matter -- I lost him all the same.  He just wasn't the same anymore.  Plus, it was bad for business.  Were it not for the quality of his work, he'd have no business at all, but the constant delays was making it harder to get new contracts.  And I'm pretty sure some of what he was makin' was going to the Temple.  I went back to stealing to help make ends meet.
	A couple of weeks ago, this new plague starts spreading.  Not as fast as Impetigo, but fast enough to be scary.  And the effects are even worse, which is what first prompted the Gates to be sealed by royal decree.  I heard of some people growing old from it, and one guy I heard grew a third arm that had to be chopped off.  Rumor is that no one's surviving it.  Seems like no one can decide on a name for it.  The Shallyans were busy again, and getting plenty of donations again, too.  But that's not what made me suspicious at first.  It was the sight of this freaky gang who talked their way through the sealed gates and strutted through town like they owned the place.  If their appearance wasn't enough to draw my attention, their promise of good pickins was.  I spotted half a dozen things right off that I knew I could take and sell pretty easily.
	Their leader--at least, from the looks of him, and the way he orders people around--is this militant guy named Siegfried.  And he's got some soldier-types with him, but in the few days I've been spying on the group, I've not yet learned their names.  Then there's Urdithane, a freaky looking elf with glowing eyes, wild hair, and this weird brass tube.  I'm pretty sure he's crazy.  There's Griz-ban, the frightening dwarf-who-doesn't-drink-enough, with his tower of orange mohawk hair and gritty armor that looks like it's been clawed open and repaired half a dozen times, but he's somehow still standing.  Felix, a noble looking guy who looks around an awful lot, and even noticed me, I think.  Definitely will have to be careful stealing from him.  There was also a girl, looking rather out of place in that motley crew, yet I somehow lost track of her early on.  She didn't seem to have much worth stealing though, so I paid it no mind.
	It's that last guy that really had me bewildered.  A tall lanky dork named Conifer.  I'm sorry, FATHER Conifer, or His Majesty or whatever, wearing white robes.  He struts in and makes a beeline to the Shallyan Temple.  A guy?  A priest of Shallya?  Never heard of one of those, not ever.  And yet here he is, on the heels of a mysterious plague.  How could this be a coincidence?  I tried telling my Da about it, but he's just all, "It's a Shallyan Miracle!"  Funny how he sounds a bit like Sven's mom now, after almost a couple decades of being agnostic.
	Now, we get all sorts coming through the city on a daily basis.  It's how I make my living.  Some come for the trade, or are just passing through.  Some come for the majesty of the Eternal Flame, and once in a while, some crazy nutjob throws himself into it.  Just after the Impetigo finally was thrwarted, some woman ran across the temple floor, slipped on some puss juice I guess, and slide right into the flame like it was a cup in a marble shoot.  She must've been made of whiskey, 'cause she lit up fast and short.  Some Ulrichians pulled her out, of course.  Spoiling the fun.  I'm not sure why, but I've always really wanted to see one burn to ashes.
	Turns out, I might just get my wish.  Sven and his parents came back from a Temple assembly all excited and going on about this Shallyan priest who's going to turn himself over to the "mercy" of Ulrich.  I asked them why the hell he would do that, and at first they seemed dumbfounded, but then just spouted out nonsense about Ulrich saving the city in return for the sacrifice.
	Which brings us to today.  With Sven's help, I manage to get into the Temple unnoticed by the guards, with whom I have some history.  The place is packed, but Sven talks to a priest, and we get escorted to where the Hoffners are standing, about 30 yards away from the Flame.  People are muttering and speculating about what's going to happen, and I find a brother or two in the audience also itching for a burning.  The chatter may be mostly nonsense, but the excitement is undeniable -- the belief these people are swelling with is practically palpable. 
	Just then, the High Priest of Ulrich walks in, and starts talking about Ulrich this, and Ulrich that, and do not despair.  The people murmur steadily about despair and loved ones, or shout "mercy from the plague", and "purity by fire", and at times after the Priest utters keywords, they even chant in approximate unison.  It's hard to hear the Priest over the clamor, but then he mentions Shallya, and I pay more attention, looking around for that Conifer guy.  I spot him off in the alcove, with some of his friends and another Ulrichian.  My suspicion grows when I see him smile a few times.  I don't like Shallyans in general, after what they did to my Da, but this guy... is a guy.  Who's about to throw himself into the most holy fire there is.  And he's smiling.
	Conifer is summoned.  He walks out, and begins to look nervous.  Ah, so he is human.  His robes are whiter than I remember from the other day.  Did they give him new ones just for this?  He's going to burn!  What difference does it make what he wears!?  But it excites the people.  There are a few cheers, but most murmur things about holy this and pure that and a few even mention "savior".  Plebs.
	He starts talking, and everyone shuts up.  They didn't do this for the Ulrich guy, but they did it for him.  I think of a good heckle, but I keep it to myself.  I, uh .. don't want to get Sven in trouble.  Again.
	Conifer goes on about the plague, and how he's cured the entire land of Kislev of it, and has come down from on-high to join forces with the Church of Ulrich to rid this land of it, too.  I want to disbelieve, I want to see through his lies and spot the truth, but it's a powerful message.  These people need hope like a desert needs rain, and his words are a fountain of it that quenches their thirst.  I shiver slightly, not because of what he's saying or even how he's saying it, but that he's able to raise these people up.  He might be suspicious, but he's about to solicit the mercy of a god who has burned every sacrificial soul that has entered this flame for as long as even my Da can remember.
	There he goes.  Oh, of course he stretches out his arms, how can you solicit a miracle without looking holy.  He pauses in front of the fire a moment, bows his head, and .. and .. he's gonna chicken--NO!  Holy Ulrich, he's doing it!  He's gonna BURN!  YES!  YES!  .. where's the screaming?  He's not screaming.  What?
	How is he not screaming?  What's going on?  Wait, is he already dead?  No, I can see a figure in the flame, still standing.  What is this?
	The Ulrich High Priest shouts, "Ulrich has delivered his mercy and power onto Shallya!  It's a miracle!  We will be saved!"
	The crowd erupts from their silence in cheers as bright as the Eternal Flame, and Sven hugs me hard, blissful and joyous.  Holy Father Conifer steps out of it then, completely unharmed, and they get even louder.  Even his clothes, his robes, are unburnt.  Maybe even whiter than before.  This is it.  This happened.  I have witnessed a miracle.
	As we walk down the steps from the temple, Sven whispers, "I feel awesome.   Everything is awesome!  Now, let's go beat someone up."
I still don't know what I saw, or what it means.
But I feel better.