Cult Hierarchy refers to the different hierarchical organisations that define the various religious organisations of the Old World.
All the cults of the Old World Pantheon in the Empire use slightly different structures to organise their followers, but they can be expressed with reference to the same basic generic religious hierarchy. This is reflected in the career paths and structure common to these cults. The following elements are typical of most of the cults, but one should be cautioned that the generic hierarchy outlined here describes no single cult in particular. Each cult has its own unique exceptions to the following hierarchy and will make use of its own individualised titles and ranks.[1a]
Generic Cult Organisation[]
An example of generic religious cult structure and hierarchy in the Empire.
Lay Followers[]
Followers of the Imperial cults are many and varied. Anyone who works for or is supported by a particular cult, or even anyone who favours a particular god above the others and takes a keen interest in that god's cult, can be described as a lay follower, a member of the laity. Most followers do little more than simply attend services, donate their tithe, do trivial tasks for the cult, and never rise above this status of informed lay person. This is usually not a problem for them as they will have their own careers and interests to follow. They do not aspire to leadership, they show no particular divine talent, and are thankful to serve and worship their god in their own small way.[1a]
Some lay followers show a skill for directing the will of the gods and can manifest miraculous or magical "blessings." These talented members may rise in the ranks of the cult. They are usually easily spotted by the senior members of the faith, who direct and mentor them, and put them to work, for the future well-being of the cult is in their hands.[1a]
The most talented lay followers, particularly those who evidence the ability to manifest blessings, are singled out and given more ambitious tasks to perform. This is useful to the cult, of course, but also acts as a test of faith and ability for the prospective initiate. If the follower is seen to do well, and acts according to the strictures of their god then they will be indoctrinated into the cult proper and become a formal "initiate," a follower on the path to rise in the cult's formal hierarchy and become one of that god's clergy.[1a]
Initiation[]
Most cults have some sort of initiation rite that every member must perform. This shows a proper devotion to the cult's god and an element of trial or sacrifice. This is not usually a major or particularly difficult task, and is often merely symbolic. Some cults are more demanding than others in this respect. For example, the Cult of Taal might require a prospective initiate to spend eight days in the wilderness fending for themselves. If they succeed, then it is deemed that Taal himself has seen fit to protect the supplicant and they are worthy to enter the cult.[1a]
The Cult of Verena, on the other hand, may instead require a new initiate to memorise a long religious tract or present a researched argument to a number of peers. Once initiated into an Imperial cult, an initiate formally becomes part of that cult, and usually wears the robes and other trappings of the cult that distinguishes them as a member of that faith. They will be expected to obey their cult superiors in all things. Initiates do not normally have a formal title, but are often referred to as "Brother" or "Sister." Being an initiate does not mean that an individual's path is set for life, however. Many initiates go on to serve their cult further and rise in rank within the organisation, but some fall by the wayside. Either they do not have the inclination or fortitude to follow their god so closely or they choose to leave the cult and follow another path.[1a]
Initiates are usually let go without grievance. These former initiates can even be successful in other walks of life and continue to be devout supporters of their faith. The life of an initiate is often tedious and hard. In a way, an initiate works full time for the cult, and is often provided with shelter, food, drink, and other necessities as they pursue their assigned duties. Any luxuries must be purchased by the initiate themselves, though in most cases such luxuries are frowned upon.[1a]
In many Imperial cults, an initiate is expected to demonstrate their worthiness by suffering hardships and denying themselves small pleasures. Initiates can be employed at a small local temple under the direction of a single priest. They might even be left to their own devices, looking after a remote wayside shrine, for example. This can be a lonely job, relieved only by the occasional visitor. Local temples often have a priest and a lower ranked assistant, either an initiate or a disciple. An initiate will be expected to perform the mundane jobs around the temple, freeing the priest for the more important religious duties. The priest will be expected to teach the initiate all they need to know to rise in rank so that perhaps one day they will take over the running of the temple.[1a]
There are some temples, especially in the more remote towns, where an unbroken line of priests and initiates goes back decades, if not centuries. In a larger temple in a big city, or in a remote monastery, there could be dozens of initiates at work at one time. Their duties are usually spread around various manual chores, giving an initiate a chance to learn about all the functions of the temple. So, an initiate might scrub the steps every Aubentag morning, copy holy scripture throughout Marktag, and dole out food to the poor on Backertag evenings.[1a]
The exact duties that an initiate must perform depend on their cult and their temple or monastery, and might also be influenced by local traditions. To start with, an initiate has little time to themselves. For any time not spent doing menial work or attending services, they will be expected to study the various scriptures, sacraments, rituals, or rites of their faith. As their initiate period draws to an end, they are given much more freedom and opportunities to prove that they are worthy to become a disciple. Again this will depend on the cult and other circumstances, but the sorts of jobs a senior initiate might be tasked with are many.[1a]
The latter stages of an initiate's service will certainly be an exciting time for them, as they get to interact with the outside world more frequently, and will be given important and potentially even dangerous jobs to do. If they are fortunate, they may be able to find a reliable band of like-minded souls to help them. Regardless, they will be expected to uphold the good name of the cult and to act responsibly in its service. In many ways, the initiate's conduct and adherence to cult strictures should be more important to the service of their god and their future in the cult than the success or failure of their mission.[1a]
No doubt, priests will keep an eye on the initiate's progress and take their actions into consideration when deciding if they should become a true disciple of the cult. An initiate who has proven themselves capable of taking on missions successfully and acting on their own initiative to advance the interests of the cult will doubtless be called upon again by the cult when difficult situations arise and a reliable, devout, and adventurous soul is required. On the other hand, an initiate who shows themselves to be perhaps more "expendable" than others might be given extremely dangerous tasks.[1a]
Disciples[]
Even after completing their time as an initiate, a cultist is not yet considered a full priest. Rather, they are known as a "disciple." A disciple often continues to bear the title of "Brother" or "Sister," and may expect to be addressed in that manner. A disciple should by now be a relatively experienced and respected member of the cult who has shown that they can be trusted with the cult's affairs. Because they do not have the responsibility of overseeing a temple or ward, a disciple has a lot more freedom to roam than a fully-ordained priest.[1a]
The cult often takes advantage of this, moving disciples around to different areas so that they may learn from the customs, practices, and prevailing thought of different areas so that the temple may in turn benefit from fresh insights and new ideas. In addition, larger temples like to expand their network of contacts as widely as they can. Having the resources to send disciples off to work in distant places can serve to raise the profile of a temple and gain influence for its clergy.[1a]
Disciples are usually expected to perform services and minister to the flock, but they do not have the full official authority of a priest. For example, they might be able to perform a marriage ceremony, but, based on the region, permission for the marriage might need to come from a full priest. The more rural communities that cannot support a full priest often have an itinerant disciple who travels between the local villages in an area called a "ward." Some of these wards can be very large indeed, especially in a sparsely populated area. A disciple might only visit an isolated village once every few months.[1a]
These itinerant disciples can be a vital source of news and views for the locals. The disciple stage of a priest's career can often be one when they are likely to travel and pick up new experiences. The disciple is expected to act increasingly on their own initiative and is given some of the responsibility they will eventually come to wield as a full priest. Their behaviour is closely scrutinised during this time, and they will eventually be called back to their home temple to answer for their actions. If they are deemed suitable and if the omens and portents granted by the cult's deity are right, they may then be ordained as a full priest of the faith.[1a]
Mendicants[]
Some initiates and disciples forsake the formality and structure of an established cult and decide to take their ministry in service to their god directly to the people without official sanction. They wander from village to village with no means of support save for the generosity of those they meet and common alms.[1a]
Mendicants are given a mixed reception depending on their audience and their message. The rare mendicant becomes well-respected and sought-after, gathering a following of their own. Most are considered little better than a nuisance -- unless their talents or services are direly needed, of course. Though often called priests by the common folk, these mendicants are certainly not priests in any official sense.[1a]
However, it can be sometimes difficult to tell the difference between a mendicant priest who has been trained and instructed by a cult, and one has privately chosen this lifestyle to best spread the word of their god, and a common beggar just trying it on. Impersonating a priest is a crime in much of the Old World that most cults treat with great severity -- it is tantamount to heresy and usually punishable by death.[1a]
Priests[]
The ordination of a priest is usually accompanied by an important formal ceremony, marking a profound transition between common person and true servant of a god. It may even be attended by all the available priests and several higher-ranking members from the area. The priest will make a solemn oath to their god and fellow cultists to place the service of their god above all other things. It can be an important occasion, not just for the new priest, but for the cult in general and the local community. A priest, unlike the lower ranks of the cult, is often a public figure and, in a sense, belongs to their community.[1a]
The rank of priest is sacred throughout much of the Old World. It is an ancient tradition of the Empire, going back at least to the time of Sigmar, that priests lead the people in all matters spiritual and so must be obeyed and respected. Whatever cult they belongs to and however long they have served, the rank brings a priest authority and respect from many of the Empire's citizens, even the nobility. A priest may be appointed to run a temple. It might be a small one in the wilderness, and they may be given an initiate or disciple to help them, or charged with the responsibility of recruiting one.[1a]
Some priests are assigned to a larger temple, probably in a larger city. These major temples are generally overseen by a priest with the title of "Lector," but their size is such that several priests contribute to its management. It is this appointment that an ambitious priest will aspire to because this can be a good way to gain political influence within the faith. As an assistant at a major temple, a priest stays close to the cult's source of power -- if they make a positive impression, they can expect to be promoted much sooner than someone stuck out in the backwoods.[1a]
Of course, most priests are more interested in serving their god than looking for promotion and influence. However, on the other hand, it is commonly accepted that a competent and confident priest owes it to their god and their cult to be promoted quickly so they can serve their faith to the fullest of their god-given ability.[1a]
Some priests will be assigned to a special office within the cult, often in one of the smaller sub-orders associated with the cult. Such an appointment can take advantage of their specialised skills and any particular talents they have shown thus far in their career. For example, a priest of Verena who has shown a knack for rooting out lost lore and reclaiming forgotten objects might be appointed to the Order of Mysteries, while a Sigmarite priest who has displayed an enthusiasm for prosecuting mutants might be inducted into the Holy Order of the Templars of Sigmar. Those rarer priests who have have been gifted the ability to cast Divine Magic through their intense faith in their god often become clerics.[1a]
Lectors[]
The rare priest who shows singular ability and profound piety may be appointed to the lofty status of Lector. A Lector will be responsible for one of the great temples or perhaps one of the minor suborders of the cult or a number of lesser temples and shrines within a ward. It is a position of great responsibility. This rank is not for petty bureaucrats and plodders -- the future of the cult in a specific region can be said to be in the Lector's hands, and the decisions they make will have lasting ramifications throughout their ward.[1a]
Lectors are given almost limitless power in the name of the cult to pursue their own agendas and advance their spheres of responsibility. Even the most powerful noble would think twice before antagonising a Lector. They are considered to be enlightened and responsible enough to interpret the word of their god themselves. Provided that it is in line with standard cult doctrine, tradition, and precedent, and not too controversial, the Lector has room to choose which parts of the cult's tenets, strictures and doctrine they should emphasise, and likewise which other dogmas to play down.[1a]
Some Lectors become involved in secular politics. They may join the court of the emperor, an Elector Count, or some lesser noble, or represent their faith's interests on a city or town council. Some are suited to this sort of lifestyle, using their diplomatic skill and respected position to advance their cult's agenda and spread its religious and political influence within the relevant community. A powerful noble who supports one cult more than any other can be a vital ally in the politicking of the Old World. Likewise, a city or town that promotes and embraces the cult more enthusiastically than others can be a great source of personnel, political influence, and income.[1a]
Another duty of the Lector in some of the cults is to vote on who from among their fellow clergy will become the new high priest of the cult when it is time to make such a decision. Usually the Lectors convene at the high temple of the cult or some other auspicious and holy location, where they spend many days discussing the leading candidates and thrashing out the issues. It is through this process that one of the senior priests known as "Arch Lectors" will be elevated to high priest.[1a]
Warrior Priests[]
Some priests feel the call of battle. Their zeal inspires them to join the Empire's military forces and defend the faith from enemies without. These devoted men and women are called Warrior Priests. They are famous in the Imperial State Armies for protecting and succouring the soldiers while at the same time putting the fear of their god into the enemy. Warrior Priests have felt their god's call to take the fight directly to the enemy of their faith and homes. This is a vocation that has probably shaped their career within the cult thus far and will undoubtedly shape it in the future.[1a]
Though the title of "Warrior Priest" is evocative of a priest's role on the battlefield, for some cults it can have a different context. The Cults of Sigmar, Ulric, and Myrmidia have a clear martial function and a great number of Warrior Priests in many dedicated orders.[1a]
The "Longshanks" of the Cult of Taal are experts in fighting in wooded and other difficult terrain and infiltrating enemy positions. Verenan Warrior Priests of the Order of the Sword and Scale do not hesitate to enter the fray, but they are usually more concerned with seeking advantage in more subtle ways: gathering intelligence on the enemy and the environment and helping with the war effort's logistics. The Warrior Priests of the Cult of Manann are usually found in the Imperial Navy. The Hospitaliers of the Cult of Shallya not only tend to the wounded and dying but also have an important role in trying to make sure disease is kept out of the camps. The Warrior Priests of the Cult of Morr have been known to fight fiercely alongside their comrades but inevitably turn to their duties of seeing to the dead. Though few Warrior Priests of the Cult of Ranald are openly employed (or even known to operate) in the Imperial armies, an astute general knows that espionage and subterfuge can bring the advantages that could make all the difference between victory and defeat. A skilled assassin or spy could be a Warrior Priest of Ranald, though it is unlikely any but another follower of Ranald would know their true role.[1a]
As well as supporting the cause on the battlefield, Warrior Priests have an important function in day-to-day life in the Imperial military. They bring the words of the gods to the troops and remind them why and for what they are fighting. They are also in charge of the soldiers' pastoral care.[1a]
As they have free rein to choose how they serve their god, and are allowed to interpret the god's signs in their own way, some Lectors and Warrior Priests choose to bring their expertise to bear on the less regimented duties of their cult. They lead small bands of like-minded colleagues on small-scale, and sometimes clandestine, missions to target specific enemies of the cult.[1a]
A Lector of Shallya might choose to follow up suspected manifestations of Nurgle and pursue the incident until she is sure that the pestilential influence is entirely eradicated. A Warrior Priest of Ulric might lead a hunt into the Border Princes and attempt to carve out a holy site there, in the White Wolf's name. A Lector of Verena could put his effort and resources into reuniting all thirteen lost volumes of the Chronicles of the Twelve Inviolable Martyrs, if that is what he thought his god required.[1a]
Arch Lectors[]
Apart from the high priests who outright lead many of the cults, senior priests of a cult with the title of "Arch Lector" or their specific cult's equivalent for senior priests, represent the ultimate rank that can be achieved within the holy orders. Ostensibly, they must be the wisest, most devout, and most accomplished members of their faith: eminent personages even among the great and the good. They must lead the cult through perilous times. The future of their god's followers and interests in the Known World is in their hands.[1a]
Needless to say, such responsibility is a heavy burden. Arch Lectors are often already aged when they attain their position. However, this is not a position that a priest can achieve simply by serving their time and keeping out of trouble. Sometimes younger, energetic priests are recognised for their talents, and given the rank of Lector or, in unusual cases, Arch Lector. Most cults cannot afford to squander what talent they have, and the Old World is not the sort of place in which complacency and seniority trumps skill, devotion, and talent.[1a]
Arch Lectors usually represent all of the cult assets and personnel in a given territory or an important city. A territory can be as large as a province or even several provinces. They have the final say on religious matters of their faith that arise in their territory and are answerable to none save the high priest of their order and the emperor himself. Specific religious orders within a cult might be headed by a senior priest with the title of Lector or Arch Lector, and this gives a good indication of the status of that order within the wider cult.[1a]
High Priest[]
The Ar-Ulric of the Cult of Ulric
Some cults have a figurehead who is the ultimate mortal authority for the priests and lay followers of that cult alike, and essentially represents that god's presence in the mortal world. Their specific title depends on their cult but they are generally referred to generically as "high priests." In the Cult of Sigmar this is the "Grand Theogonist"; Ulric's senior-most priest is called the "Ar-Ulric"; in the Cult of Shallya, the chief priestess is known as the "Matriarch."[1a]
Every cult has a different way of appointing its high priest. They might be elected by the cult's senior priests among the Lectors and Arch Lectors, elevated according to divine signs and portents, or bequeathed the position by the previous high priest. In the Cult of Myrmidia, the high priest is determined by a ritual duel. Of course, as most of the cults are spread throughout the Empire and beyond, the high priest is not necessarily going to be from the Empire itself. In the Cult of Myrmidia, founded in Tilea, the most devoted followers could not countenance the esteemed office going to an Imperial.[1a]
Cult Discipline[]
As soon as a lay follower is initiated into the hierarchy of the cult, they are subject to the rules of the cult and obligated to endure any penalty that the cult imposes upon them, under Imperial law. That is to say, any penalty or punishment a cult officially hands down to a full initiate of the cult is respected under the Empire's law, and the cultist will have no other recourse to secular justice. In the Empire, the recognised cults are quite literally a law unto themselves. Essentially, an initiate's conduct is a matter between them and their patron god. It is accepted that in general an initiate will rise to a rank in the cult hierarchy merited by their actions. Should their behaviour not be becoming of their rank, that is a matter for their own conscience, though their god may send them omens and portents to warn them of their misbehaviour.[1a]
On occasion, of course, the cult feels obliged to intercede. Trivial matters are easily dealt with: a cuff to the ear for an initiate who is daydreaming when they should be scrubbing the steps, a quiet word for the disciple who keeps turning up late to scripture class, a frank exchange of views with a priest whose sermons may be straying from the cult's orthodox canon. This sort of thing is handled exactly as it might in any other organisation. However, because of a cult's role in Imperial society and the corrupting influence of the metaphysical forces it opposes, sometimes more drastic action must be taken.[1a]
The way the cults police themselves is a process that can vary wildly. The Cult of Sigmar is notorious for clamping down hard and fast on any transgressions. Its authorities can seem overly paranoid that any activity against the cult caused by one of its own members is influenced by the Dark Gods and must be purged ruthlessly. An offender is fortunate if they are simply expelled from the cult. The penalty for Sigmarites who are found to be a significant menace to the cult is usually torture and death. In this respect, they practice what they preach.[1a]
Other cults are usually more accommodating. They might offer counselling and re-education, but a stubborn transgressor will either be sent off to some remote shrine or monastery where they can do no damage or excommunicated. The Verenans and Myrmidians greatly favour formal trials with pomp and circumstance, even if the matter might be embarrassing. Ulricans and Taalites prefer to keep such matters discreet and handled quickly.[1a]
Excommunication[]
Excommunication is the act by which membership in a cult hierarchy is formally withdrawn. This is a very serious occurrence. The protection that a cult affords to its initiates represents the spiritual as much as the physical. A follower who is excommunicated will likely feel the genuine fear that they could fall to the Dark Gods once they have been rejected by their cult and, therefore, their god.[1a]
A follower who has been excommunicated will be allowed no contact whatsoever with their cult's services, temples, or initiates. Since only the most serious transgressions are dealt with in this manner, the followers of other faiths will also be loath to deal with them. This leaves such an individual utterly alone in the Known World, both socially and spiritually, ironically making them far more susceptible to the temptations of the Ruinous Powers.[1a]
Religious Culture and Festivities[]
Throughout the Empire, every town and city has its temples, every village has it shrines, and the rich and poor alike display their faith with holy icons and relics. However, there are many diverse ways of worship within the Empire, and a person's religious views are often dependant on social status, wealth, and environment.[1a]
Gold Tier[]
The elite of Old World society tend to display their piety loudly. They occupy prominent positions at temple sermons, appear at all the major religious events, make ostentatious sacrifices to the gods, and sometimes fund the building of new temples. However, many have earned a reputation for paying only lip service to the gods. How many of the nobles or merchants who have enriched the High Temple of Sigmar in Altdorf are prepared to battle the minions of Chaos themselves? The faiths' leaders are unwilling to reproach this hypocrisy -- the generous gifts of the rich and powerful go far in furthering the ideals of the cults.[1a]
Well-to-do families may send their younger sons and daughters to join the cults' holy orders, not only to gain influence among the cults, but also to conveniently offload unproductive offspring. As a consequence, the calibre of priests has suffered in several cults -- put an over-indulged brat in a priest's frock and he is still a brat. Of course, many among the cream of Imperial society do possess a deep and sincere faith, but a majority believe that their high station is a sign of the gods' favour. It is a popular theory to some high born that low birth and poverty indicates irredeemable impiety.[1a]
Not all of society's elite are so blinkered. Emperor Magnus the Pious earned his sobriquet because he believed that all were equal in the eyes of the gods, so long as they took up arms and resisted Chaos, and Emperor Karl Franz seems to hold a similar view. Sigmar is a popular god among the Imperial upper classes, because his cult wields the most political influence (though northern nobles often favour Ulric instead). Verena is revered as a guardian of the laws that maintain noble privilege, while Manann appeals to officers in the Imperial Navy, and Myrmidia to Imperial State Army captains and generals. All aristocrats pray to Morr to protect the souls of their noble ancestors. It is currently fashionable for noblewomen to be seen alleviating the suffering of the unwashed masses in Shallya's name. However, Taal and Rhya are generally looked down on as the gods of simple peasants, while Ranald is despised as a god of thieves and scoundrels.[1a]
Silver Tier[]
The burghers and the tradesmen of the Empire are among the most devout of the Empire's citizens. They must work hard to maintain their livelihood, and if the gods can be persuaded to help alleviate their burdens, then all the better. They consider each tithe of silver to the temples as a sensible investment, hoping that a small donation of their well-earned savings will attract some acknowledgement from the gods.[1a]
The Imperial middle-class knows its place, and fear that hubris will earn divine wrath. They are meek in worship, and dutiful according to the divine strictures. Sometimes, when business is good, a guild of craftsmen or traders might work together to fund repairs for a temple roof or raise a new shrine to thank the gods. Parents are proud if one of their children decides to enter the holy orders, for surely a little bit of piety is going to rub off on the rest of the family. However, they are unwilling to allow too many sons or daughters to become initiates, as who will then take over the family business?[1a]
The middle-class of the Old World tries to honour all the gods equally, so that every aspect of life is insured against calamity. The exception in the Empire is Myrmidia, who is misunderstood by many, imported from strange lands to the south by sun-addled noblemen. Ranald is disliked among law-abiding folk, but they still ensure the proper coins are slipped to the right people so that he will turn his eye from their businesses.[1a]
Brass Tier[]
While, for the most part, the gold and silver tiers of Imperial society are mainly found in urban settings -- bustling cities and commercial towns -- the brass tier is unique in its diversity. While wealth, status, and privilege may be restricted to certain lifestyles and settings, poverty in the Old World knows no such prejudice.[1a]
Urban Poor[]
The people of the urban slums of the Empire suffer poverty, hunger, and disease, yet they flock to the temples on holy days, for the gods provide them with the one thing that helps them fight on -- hope. Some cults are sympathetic with the plight of the poor -- for example, Shallyans organise temple hospices in the slums for the relief of the dispossessed. However, many temple priests alienate the common folk because they cannot empathise with their lives. This is especially true of the Cult of Sigmar, whose ranks are increasingly filled by initiates drawn from the middle and aristocratic classes.[1a]
This situation has led to an upsurge in firebrand cultists of Sigmar who have abandoned the pulpit for the market streets. These priests, born and bred among the poor, have suffered alongside them. They preach the spirit of Sigmar at street corners, railing against heresy, but also castigating the corruption endemic within their own cult. The Arch Lectors of Sigmar regard such priests as troublemakers out to upset the social order, but can do little against them. The recent excommunication of the renegade Warrior Priest of Sigmar Luthor Huss has made him a popular hero, and the Imperial authorities do not want to make any more martyrs.[1a]
Ranald, champion of the downtrodden, is a popular god among the urban poor, and Morr is always accorded the proper rites, for death hovers at every shoulder. Manann is an important god in sea and river ports, and Ulric rivals the Cult of Sigmar among common folk of the north, sometimes resulting in riots between mobs supporting the two gods. Myrmidia, a goddess primarily of the aristocracy in the Empire, is ignored, and the illiterate masses have little interest in Verena despite her cult sometimes organising missions to educate them.[1a]
Some radicals do not understand why society needs "parasitic" priests to intercede with the gods on the people's behalf. These are usually the rowdy supporters of agitators who try to stir up revolt against the ruling classes, and often end up rotting in gaol.[1a]
Rural Peasantry[]
Countryfolk are at the mercy of nature. They sacrifice to Rhya so that she might make their land and women fertile. They pray to Taal for the protection of their livestock from his wild beasts, and to ensure that he spares their crops from drought. Fisherfolk bow to Manann, and in the north, where it is bitter winter for half the year, Ulric is held in high esteem by the tough peasants. Morr is feared and respected as he is by all folk. However, the other gods of the Old World Pantheon have little to offer simple farming folk.[1a]
Rhya, in her aspect as mother goddess, is often more popular than Shallya among the peasantry, and even reverence for Sigmar is muted in some rural areas, for the concepts of Empire and emperor are remote to farmers and herdsmen who travel no further than neighbouring hamlets. However, every sizeable village has a shrine to Sigmar to keep the witch hunters happy.[1a]
In places barely touched by civilisation, deep in the forests or lost among the hills, there are folk who still follow ancient traditions forgotten elsewhere. They believe that every stone, tree, and river hides a nature spirit that must be appeased, in accords with the Old Faith. Some peasants even claim to see or commune with such beings, and sacrifice to them at ancient stone circles. These ignorant folk have sometimes mistaken Elves for nature spirits. Official dogma teaches that Imperial folk should revere only those gods sanctioned by Imperial tradition, and the Cult of Sigmar regards the worship of nature spirits as being dangerously close to Daemon-worship. The cult often sends missionaries to "educate" the errors of such countryfolk, and where preaching fails, the warhammer usually succeeds.[1a]
Rites of Passage[]
To quote a popular Stirland saying: "We are born, we weep, we die." However, a lot more usually happens during the life of a typical citizen of the Empire, and every major milestone is accompanied by ritual, ceremony, and superstition.[1a]
Birth and Marriage[]
When a woman feels the first stirrings of life in her womb, she prays to Shallya (or to Rhya through Taal if she is a rural peasant) for the health of her unborn child. Wealthy women will sacrifice an expectant sow, cow, or even mare, but most others make do with a pregnant cat or, at a pinch, a rat. The father makes an offering to Taal, Ulric, or Sigmar so that his child will be strong, and to Morr to stay his hand. Mortality at childbirth in the Old World is high, unless a family can afford a physician.[1a]
Poor women are attended by a midwife, hopefully a skilled cultist of Shallya (or Rhya in rural areas). The priest cannot invoke blessings to help the mother, for Morr must be allowed to claim mother or child if he demands it. Traditionally, the father buries a coin in a safe place. It is unlucky to remove this coin until the child comes of age, when the father will dig up the coin and present it to the child as a symbol of entry into adulthood. No good will come to a person who loses his birth coin.[1a]
On the anniversary of a person's birth, friends and family offer sacrifices to Shallya or Rhya for his or her continued health. Old World society frowns upon unmarried mothers. The upper classes arrange marriages to form political or mercantile alliances. Among the lower classes, a mother who bears a child out of wedlock is disgraced, unless she gives her child to the Cult of Shallya to be adopted as an initiate.[1a]
For the rich and noble, marriage involves a grandiose ball and a blessing by a high-ranking Lector, but most folk have to settle for a simple handfasting ritual with a few words mumbled by a priest. A common custom involves the happy couple jumping over a jug, which must be kept safe thereafter lest the marriage be doomed. Divorce is disapproved of in Old World society. Usually only failure to bear children is sufficient legal grounds, and the same priest who married the couple (or his successor) must undo the marriage by ritually severing a knot.[1a]
Dooming and Death[]
At the age of ten, most children endure the Dooming ceremony, which is carried out in different ways throughout the Empire. In Reikland, to grant long life, meat and milk mixed with the child's blood is thrown on a brazier, so that Morr thinks the child is already in his under realm. The ceremony always culminates in the terrified child being left alone with a Doomsayer of Morr. The priest interprets the omens to reveal the child's fate. This ritual is meant to stiffen a child's courage in preparation for life -- it is reckoned that a person's fear of death is conquered when they know and accepts his own doom.[1a]
People keep their Dooming secret in case their enemies use that knowledge against them. When a person dies, it is vital that the rites of Morr are whispered over the body as soon as possible. A brief commendation of the dead person's soul to Morr must suffice in the absence of a proper priest. If this is not done, it is believed that the soul will wander lost, unable to enter Morr's kingdom, allowing necromancers or the Ruinous Powers to enslave it.[1a]
Ideally the corpse must be buried before sundown within a Garden of Morr, where Morr's priests can guard it against necromantic magic. Bodies buried elsewhere must be decapitated or have their hearts staked to prevent them from rising, or are buried at crossroads to confuse the deceased's spirit and stop it from returning to haunt the living.[1a]
There is a legend that Sigmar visited and returned from Morr's underworld, but otherwise no living person knows what that place is like. Not even summoned spirits can be induced to talk about the afterlife. The wealthy are buried in extravagant mausoleums or family vaults, while the poor are commemorated by a simple slab. Priests of Morr must dig up old graves to make way for fresh burials, and the exhumed bones are stored in ossuaries.[1a]
Charms and Sacred Relics[]
Prayers and sacrifices may not be enough to secure protection against life's many dangers, and there is a craze among the people of the Empire to carry all manner of amulets and charms to ward away evil.[1a]
Charms are believed to bring luck to their owner. They might take the form of a sprig of holly plucked on the Winter Solstice, the foot of a white cat worn on a string, the left toe of a murderer hanged on the 13th day of the month, and so on. Peddlers hawk such trinkets for a few pennies at fairs and festivals. Many profit from credulous buyers, but many others are convinced that their wares bring genuine luck. Some items are imbued with sacred power. These might be objects touched by famous holy men, heroes or emperors (a piece of torn cloth; a bent spoon; a rotting vegetable, etc). Many folk bear parchment inscribed with holy sayings. They may also carry skulls, bones, mummified fingers, sand timers, and so on, said to belong to religious martyrs or great heroes. These are believed to ward evil. Many are fakes (there are at least a dozen noses belonging to the Emperor Hedrich knocking around), but some may be genuine.[1a]
The popularity for these sacred items has created a black market, where relics are stolen at great effort despite the templars of Morr who guard important tombs. Aristocrats are major clients of these tomb robbers, and pay highly for a rare relic to add to their collection. The only guaranteed way to see a true relic is to visit a temple that houses one. Almost every temple boasts at least one relic sacred to their cult, and the largest temples contain several. They are brought out during ceremonies to be seen or even kissed by the congregation. The relic can be a famous sword, or the withered heart of a long-dead champion of the Empire. The most important relics, such as the Shroud of Magnus, the Helm of the Skavenslayer, or the sword of Ulfdar the Berserker who fought alongside Sigmar at Black Fire Pass, inspire annual pilgrimages.[1a]
For safety, pilgrims travel in groups, sometimes numbering hundreds. The further and more hazardous the journey, the more likely a pilgrim's prayers will be answered at journey's end. Pilgrims might travel for various reasons: for example, to secure a god's favour, as penance for a wrong, or to seek a miraculous cure. A horde of pilgrims descending on a town brings great economic rewards to the townsfolk and the temple, making possession of a renowned relic even more important.[1a]
A flagellant of Sigmar
Some Lectors have been known to authorise the theft of relics from rival temples, claiming that their god has demanded that the sacred items be re-housed. This sometimes sparks conflict that only the high priest of the cult or the emperor can resolve. Sometimes temples send out initiates to recover lost relics, and some priests dedicate their entire lives to this sacred quest.[1a]
Flagellants[]
A curious form of pilgrimage is practised by fanatics devoted to Sigmar known as flagellants. Driven mad by terrible events, these people abandon their old lives, dress in rags and chains, and mortify their flesh in penance for real or imagined sins. They believe that the End Times are nigh, brought on by Human wickedness, and that Chaos will soon engulf the mortal world.[1a]
They seek a glorious death fighting the enemies of Sigmar, and roam the Empire gathering recruits and urging repentance. Their pilgrimage usually ends on a battlefield, where they experience bloody martyrdom. When they cannot find a battle, they wander the wilderness hoping to be attacked by Greenskins or Beastmen. Some particularly crazed and frustrated zealots have been known to harass road travellers with blunt clubs, hoping to suffer martyrdom on the edge of their victims' swords.[1a]