Blood in the Chocolate

As the men landed in the area, they were held for a time, but eventually, they were led to a great fortress nestled in the side of a mountain, quite a distance from the coast. The thin air made each man constantly gasp for breath and the freezing winds ravaged those who dressed - mistakenly - for the tropical climate of Dunwik, but eventually a force properly greeted them.

This was a procession of thirteen men in black cloaks, twelve of them bore wooden masks that depicted a creature that was not quite dragon, octopus, or man, but some nauseating amalgamation of the three. Not a single one of them was shorter than six feet, four inches tall, and their leader was a lanky, maskless man bearing the typical Lengan appearance.

He towered head and shoulders over the Tholes, with a lanky, awkward build, snow-white skin, prominent, high cheekbones, and deep, sunken, black eyes. His teeth were filed to points and his long fingers were clasped together as he looked down at Saewine Aldritch. The interpreters translated the emissary's name Oshutukuan verbatim - Stalwart Man. The procession each carried books, six had one kind, six another.

One was a Bible, marked with a cross but written in the dense, square glyphs of the Lengans. The other was unmarked, but were made carefully, covered in gold leaf. Both were about the same size.

Oshutukuan spoke in Latin as he addressed the company.

"Friends," his voice was slow, low, and carried with it an unearthly accent. Holding the 'f' and 's' sound, it was an uncomfortable sound, "it pleases us to see fellow... followers... of the Great Far-Seeing Man. We admittedly... expected different when we heard of the Army of Salvation. We thought our... Messiah had... returned to the fold, deeming us punished enough. Though we cannot yet be... restored we will... aid you, and show you our Word and Way, as you do yours."

"There are... discrepancies we must sort out first," Oshutukuan said, seeming equal parts interested and concerned "regarding... the nature as it were... of your Messiah, and if He is Ours too. We will accept your aid, but your Word may have been..."

He did not finish the word, instead letting the incomplete sentence hang as he considered his next option, "addressing every difference in doctrine is a... sensitive task, and we are not so foolish as to reject help. Your... assertion is correct, if not in word then in spirit. As punishment for our sin and evil, the people of Dunwik were sent forth upon this world by the Great Deep One. We wish to apologize for any... damages our deeds may have caused you. It is the fault of the Lengan people."

He hunched slightly but returned to his full height.

"Sadly, there is one... major discrepancy we must correct immediately. We do not have a proper... translation for the name of your Messiah, and cannot know if He is Ours without it. While we can translate phonetically to Ishuian in our script... that does not correct the oversight. What is the meaning of the Name? He could not be of Dunwik, of a meaningless name, a mere label, if He were Ours. No organization has yet... corrected this error."

As the name is translated, there is a pause among the delegation, and then furious whispers in their own, strange tongue. They spoke too quickly and quietly for the translator to assist, and eventually Oshutukuan turned back.

"The Dreamer Is Our Savior, The Chosen Man," he said, slowly and quietly in his usual speech. He then turned and looked at his twelve companions, a somewhat sad look crossing his features. They all nodded once.

"This will be brought to the Council Of Thirteen, but if what you say is true, then our deeds killed your Messiah, and our Messiah, and we must... yes. That is what we must do. We must... hold sacrament," his voice was somewhat slow, and he walked further in, leading towards a long marble slab with a single groove in the end, angled downward. He paced back and forth, looking at the masked men.

"Pass it on, I do vote on this matter. The man known to the Tholes as 'Jesus' is and must be our Messiah. I have analyzed the Latin texts and with this translation, it must, it must be so. It cannot be any other way."

He then took a deep breath in.

"We are aware of communion with bread and wine, but we do not see that as... appropriate. It is a valueless offering," Oshutukuan said, slowly climbing up onto the table, looking down at his delegation, and the small delegation that surrounded him.

"There is one offering that can be made. You must drink of the blood and eat of the flesh, and by the sacrifice of it make it so holy, that Our Messiah can return, and reawaken the Dreamer, bringing forth the Second Coming and the New Kingdom. There is only... one way the Lengan people can ever redeem themselves. As it was before our Messiah was born. I entrust you, followers of the Chosen, with my people. The Council of Thirteen will vote on this. But... we must make communion first."

With that remark, Oshutukuan knelt on the table and swiftly produced an obsidian dagger from the sleeve of his robe. By the time anyone realized what he had been doing, he had already slit his own throat.

Another Lengan stepped forward, taking off his mask and revealing a similar appearance to his dead leader. He spoke far more quickly, agitated.

"But He said He had come to enforce the old Law too, not to replace it. For you, that would be the laws prior. For us, that would be the Law of Enkhiridian. We are a sinful people, and no symbolic atonement will make up for our past evil. It was us who banished the Prophet, it was us who brought forth all sin into the world, it is us who must repent in a way above and beyond all the other races of the Earth. The Maker turned His back on us for our evil, and our atonement must be the severest if we wish to bring Him back. We must be saved by blood, and must consecrate our arrangement by blood. Take the sacrament. We are not men in the eyes of the Messiah, and will not be until such time as we have atoned by blood, the blood shed for us, even by He who abandoned us, must be repaid with blood.

We are not Dunwikki. We do not bargain and make half-measures and abstractions of what a thing is worth. Blood can only be repaid with blood. This is the penance of Leng! Drink it, and be pure! Oshutukuan was of the Council of Thirteen: the highest body in all Leng! It is a miracle that he was convinced this much, and his sacrifice is the highest honor one can receive! You must drink it, to bind our peoples and show the world that men have forgiven us! Perhaps then, the Messiah will turn His face towards us once again, and we may finally enter heaven anew!"  

His speech only got faster and louder as the others started to butcher the corpse, offering pieces of it, and painting glyphs in the blood on the walls and on the sacrificial table. 

The sacrament went in silence, with the Tholes made to drink the blood and eat the corpse as the others prayed, and once the body had been butchered and consumed, they were left mostly to their own devices, as the Lengans made to report the news of what had occurred to their superiors. After a time, the Tholes were given news that they were free to move in Leng as they pleased and proselytize as they so desired, so long as they obeyed Lengan law while on Lengan soil, and did not directly challenge the already extant Lengan faith, but rather incorporate Christianity into it.

The Lengans in this town were split in manners of receiving faith, but about two-thirds of them were persuaded without much resistance, eagerly providing food, information on the local area, and assistance in construction to the local army group. The food given was - to the Lengans - quite expensive. Exotic tropical fruits, chocolates, and richly spiced meals when they could provide them (although most of the diet was rice and fish). Other gifts of ornately-carved wooden masks studded with gemstones, depicting one of thirteen strange, otherworldly beasts, were often given alongside these meals.

Many were fascinated with the concept that they had already been forgiven for their sin, and this news spread like wildfire through their towns. Often, a priest would only speak to one man - and the next day a crowd of dozens would be hounding him for more information.
  
A very common sentiment among the Lengan people when hearing of the Devil or Antichrist is to respond that their return will not be the first time evil reigned the world uncontested, as their tale the Prophet's evil brother is oft-recited. 

No, say the Lengans, the Antichrist is not coming, but has already come and shall return. Before he was slain by the Messiah the first time, he sired a race, who do evil in his name and likeness and defile all faiths beneath their love of sin, a race known as the Dunwikki. The Lengans state that time is not linear, but cyclical.

Those who refused the faith claim that the Second Coming (or as they say it, the Third, or Thousandth... the number varied quite dramatically) will not be the End, but rather another step, and that the Kingdom of Heaven will fall to sin anew, and that the Prophet could be anyone, simply waiting to be reborn.