Though unpopular in an overall sense, Morgathianism continues to flourish in several areas of Lythia despite its reputation as a dark, brutal, "evil" religion that promises little but the prospect of eternal damnation to its adherents. In actuality, the reality of Morgathianism is far different than its reputation belies, and the reasons for people from all walks of life giving homage to the Wreaker of Chaos are many.
Prior to the Balshan Heresy in the late 6th century TR, Morgathianism had little appeal to the common man. At that time, orthodox belief centered around the concept of eternal damnation, with one’s soul going on to the afterlife to spend all eternity being tortured by the Wreaker of Chaos. This was used as a justification for the gaining and exercise of corporeal power, a sort of "do it while you still can, because nothing matters in the end" mentality. Because of this bleak outlook, Morgathianism was largely unpopular, and had very little in the way of laity or secular power outside the religion’s cradle of Meokolis in Azeryan.
Born to a Corani legionnaire, Balsha was a commoner, and had a commoner’s grasp of something that had eluded the clergy in previous centuries. Instead of focusing on eternal damnation as a justification for one’s actions, he instead focused on the concept of chaos, both what it truly meant and why it was an end worth achieving. Central to the (at that time heretical) Balshan teachings was the concept of the "primal chaos," namely that before the coming of the First Gods, Kelestia was at one with itself because everything was but a part of the same chaos. Once the First Gods separated themselves from this primordial element, there arose differences between things, and they began making war upon each other. All was no longer at one. Hence, the root of all of mankind’s problems lies not with man but with forces beyond their control.
Balsha was the first to apply this teaching in a more accessible manner. He taught that suffering was the state that humans found themselves in purely because of the "order" that had been imposed on Kelestia since the dawn of the Fist Gods. Further, all political, social, and "natural" orders were extensions that stemmed from this original separation from the chaos, and thus only added to human strife and despair. As such, those that imposed order were to be hated and despised, for they represented further removal from Kelestia’s true "natural" or "primal" chaotic state.
Still figuring strongly in Balsha’s "heretical" teachings was the dark and mysterious orb known as Bukrai. Long revered by orthodox Morgathians as symbolic of utter oblivion, Balsha had a related, but slightly different interpretation. Namely, he taught that Bukrai was all that remained of the original form of Kelestia, that so much "order" had been imposed upon the "primal chaos" by the Gods that Bukrai was all that remained. It was both a testament to the power of the chaos (as even the Gods could not impose enough order to completely destroy it) and an affirmation of the vision of Morgath himself. When Morgath seized Bukrai, he understood it for what it was. Discovering that the chaos could grow if things representing order were cast into it (by somehow "reclaiming" the primordial element of chaos), the logic of annihilation was complete. Morgath’s course of action became clear, and though all of the other Gods believed he was insane, he was the only one among them that truly understood the nature of the primal chaos, and the value that lay therein.
The majority of the religions present in Western Lythia taught that some form of afterlife or reincarnation awaited the souls of the faithful. To orthodox Morgathians of the time, human sacrifice was seen as a way to appease Morgath. This was of course under the assumption that if the Wreaker of Chaos had the sacrificed souls to torment that an afterlife of damnation would somehow be less tortuous on the faithful once their own souls were in Morgath’s clutches. But early Morgathianism assumed that all souls were destined to go to the same hell, and thus dealt poorly with other religions and was unable to refute their teachings of a different, better afterlife. Balsha accepted the teachings of other religions in so far as the souls of their adherents continued on in said afterlife or further reincarnations more or less intact. Rather than damning them all to the same hell, Balsha used the very nature of the soul itself as a point of contention. To him, such "persistence of soul" was anathema, an insult to the true chaotic nature of the universe. The "soul" was the one thing that was constant throughout one’s existence(s), as one’s physical form was assumed to vary from incarnation to incarnation, or to be somehow transformed in the afterlife. As such, it represented the ultimate form of permanence or "order" on a personal level. This became Balsha’s justification for human sacrifice, and he taught that human sacrifice was a way to circumvent the afterlife or reincarnation process. Souls sacrificed to Morgath would be cast directly into Bukrai, feeding the chaos, making it grow, and destroying hated order. Thus, sacrificing one’s enemies helped in both the physical and celestial realms. Further, it was believed that though the poor victim would not truly understand it, the devout were in actuality doing them a favor by re-uniting them with the primal chaos.
Balsha was also the first to formalize the previously vague concept of undeath and incorporate it into his teachings. His promises of the "thirteen little deaths" and "a half-life eternal" represented one giving the permanent part of one’s self (the soul) to Morgath, in return for an extension of the transitory impermanent form (the physical body). As such, a devout adherent could serve the Wreaker of Chaos by both feeding Bukrai and doing the god’s bidding in the physical world. For such a pious sacrifice, the devout adherent was given the gift of undeath, the ability to sustain the body until such time as the Wreaker of Chaos no longer had use for it. Indeed, the devout adherent was doubly blessed, as while his body and mind still existed in the corporeal realm, one’s soul was already re-united with the primal chaos (which is seen as the source of the "Shadow of Bukrai").
In this way, the prophet made Morgathianism palatable to a much larger audience for the first time, aided by the fact that widespread dissatisfaction of the emperor and his bureaucracy had already sowed the seeds of discontent. When told by a charismatic leader that their station in life would be improved by tearing down the existing order, the common populace was primed for what would eventually become the Balshan Jihad, and ultimately the downfall of the Corani Empire.
After the success of Balsha’s conversion of a sizeable segment of the common Corani population to Morgathianism, the orthodox Lythian church was forced to re-evaluate their own dogma. When the ecclesiastic council met and eventually published the "Thirteen Articles," much of Balsha’s previously "heretical" teachings had been incorporated into the new orthodoxy. Still, not wanting to show the weakness of the central authority, much of the Hârnic clergy was purged so as to send a clear message to future heretics and overly ambitious priests.
Many casual observers have wondered how a religion so enamoured with chaos can have such a strong central authority or such a rigid hierarchy. The answer for this is threefold. First, while the church goes to great lengths to maintain rigid obedience within the clerical hierarchy, there is in actuality a great amount of chaos within the Morgathian church. While rank and dogma are very important, what is equally important is the dynamic nature of the clergy. Alliances and power blocs shift and change at a moment’s notice, motives and plans are hatched, discarded, misrepresented, or concealed in a web of truth, half-truth, and outright lie. Nothing is set in stone. The clergy generally explain away the strife that comes from their chaotic dealings as their own imperfections marring the beauty of the chaos.
This brings us to the second point, which is one of imperfection. All creatures possessed of a soul are seen as fundamentally flawed in the eyes of Morgath. Their attempts to mimic their god will by necessity have some form of order, as they themselves are still "tainted" by their souls. It is of note that those who achieve the blessing of undeath by giving up their souls to Morgath tend to exist somewhat apart from the politics of the rest of the clergy (though it could be argued that it is a lack of free will rather than a lack of soul that contributes to this effect).
The third point to consider is the "will of the Wreaker." It is assumed that only Morgath truly understands the innermost working of Bukrai. As such, he is in the ultimate position to dictate affairs. Orthodox church dogma teaches that the innermost secrets of Bukrai are only revealed to the devout as they progress through the clergy. Hence, those further up the hierarchy, or "closer to the Wreaker," are assumed to possess more extensive knowledge of the god’s schemes. When something as weighty as the destruction of the universe is the goal, such information imparts a certain amount of authority over those below. Obedience to one’s ecclesiastic superiors is to be unquestioning and immediate, not out of respect but out of fear that they may know more of the Wreaker’s aims.
What makes Morgathianism attractive as a religion? In order to understand why anyone would willingly place his or her faith in a god who advocates the destruction of the known universe, one must first examine the logic of the argument. At its most basic level, Morgathianism is a religion of anger and blame. Post-Balshan Morgathianism teaches that the universe is the way it is because of order. If someone is dissatisfied with their station in life, they are more likely to be open to a dogma that teaches that it is not their fault. If they are feeling oppressed or powerless, they are more open to a belief system that teaches them that the oppressive social system is inherently flawed.
Central to the justifications behind Morgathianism is the concept that nothing bad or unfortunate that happens to the adherent is their fault. All suffering stems from directly from the "order" of the surrounding environment. In many cases, there is some truth to this argument, and Morgathianism is more popular among commoners than it is among the privileged classes. For more difficult cases, blame can be laid all the way back to the First Gods. As such, the adherent’s plight is never due to his or her own failings, faults, or incompetence. Blame is always directed elsewhere, which many folk find comforting.
With blame comes hate. Morgathianism has its strongest basis in hate and jealousy. When you believe that others are responsible for your suffering, dislike of such persons or institutions is easy. "They" are the oppressors. "They" represent all that is wrong with the universe. If "they" were destroyed, life would be somehow better.
And how does the church capture the loyalty of such embittered persons? By showing them that they are not alone, that there are others who feel the same way. The lesson of strength in numbers is not lost to Morgathianism, and the dogma encourages a sort of "pack mentality" amongst the laity. One man may not be able to stand against "unfairness" or "oppression," but a group may be able to exact its revenge, and revenge is a cornerstone of the Morgathian ideal.
Once a desire for revenge has been instilled, the final step is action. By showing that even lowly lay brethren may justifiably strike out at that which angers them, the church provides a very real sense of empowerment, one that typically has immediate and tangible results. When coupled with the ability to rely on one’s brethren for support, faraway dreams of exacting vengeance for some past slight suddenly become realities. To the average lay person, this is one of the most appealing facets of Morgathianism.
As stated previously, Morgathianism tends to be more popular amongst the poorer, lower classes of people, especially the unemployed urban poor. In an existence without hope, a religion that teaches the tenets of blame and revenge becomes far more attractive. Further, Morgathian "missionaries" appeal to the dregs of society, the perpetual losers, misfits and outcasts. To such people the Morgathian church provides a family (of a sort) of like-minded individuals, a justification for their anger, and the ability to exact revenge.
That is not to say, however, that Morgathianism does not have wider appeal. Disillusioned younger sons of guilded merchants or nobles are also susceptible to the promises of the Wreaker of Chaos, and many such folk join out of a sense of bitterness. The church prizes such laity highly, as through them it may extend its secular influence.
In urban areas where the church is legal, laity are most often recruited from urban poor, those without homes or steady work. The church has ample work for idle hands. Priestly "missionaries" who preach the gospels of chaos generally seek out such persons. In actuality, these missionaries are often little more than rabble-rousers, priests who will spew invective and try to incite mobs of citizens to violence in order to foment discord. Such priests often watch their audiences closely, however, and will approach seemingly sympathetic persons individually. In rural areas, mendicant priests take up the task of causing trouble, but such priests are generally looked upon unfavorably by the local authorities. Even in areas where the worship of Morgath is legal, priests of the Wreaker of Chaos are unlikely to be given a warm reception by the lord’s men.
In regions where the worship of Morgath is illegal, such recruitment must be more circumspect. Priests attempting to gain converts in such areas are often in perpetual danger of discovery and harsh punishment (often death). As a result, very few will openly approach prospective converts, preferring instead to settle in an area and begin recruiting from within. The accepted method is to befriend the least satisfied person in a village or settlement and play upon that person’s fears and inadequacies. Only long after the person has embraced the vague, nihilistic attitudes of the priest does the truth begin to be slowly revealed. Often, the priest will attempt to manipulate the convert into engaging in some criminal act before revealing the truth. In this way, even if the potential convert has second thoughts or rejects the formal teachings of the Wreaker of Chaos, they will be unable to expose the priest for fear of having their own misdeeds discovered. If the priest is careful, the potential adherent may be an orthodox Morgathian in all but name for quite some time without realizing it. At such a time as the priest feels the adherent is ready, the truth is revealed little by little, and another faithful convert is brought into the Morgathian fold. Now, with a fully indoctrinated partner-in-crime, the priest will begin recruiting another convert, and so on.
The final method of recruitment is simply that of word of mouth, as the church has the reputation of "looking after its own." Faithful adherents can offer up donations in order to have the Wreaker hear their plight. Most such troubles can be solved at least in part by direct physical intervention (more on this below). Since the church arranges for many such "miracles" to take place, and since the clergy require all recipients of such divine aid to testify to the power of the Wreaker before the assembled laity, the clergy has an open forum for advertisement. From there, it is only a small step to having word of such "miraculous" events spread. The passing of rumors in the market will do the rest. After all, if Mykkel the Merchant is a lay Morgathian, and if he prayed to the Wreaker for a good profit, and if his biggest competitor’s ship sank at anchor in the harbor, and if Mykkel now controls the city's supply of wool, then surely the Wreaker heard his prayers. Shouldn’t praying to Morgath solve your problems as well? What other god can promise as much?
First and foremost, the typical lay member of the Morgathian church gets security and peace-of-mind from knowing that they are not alone in their despair. Secondly, by banding together, they are given a vehicle by which they can improve their lot in life be it by eliminating the competition or by getting revenge for past slights. As mentioned previously, lay persons can make donations to the church in order to call upon the "divine powers" of Morgath. In many instances, the church will capitalize upon this opportunity to spread fear and awe by arranging that such pleas be handled appropriately. Since direct action (albeit generally covert) is usually sufficient to better a lay adherent’s situation, business competitors, urban landlords, unremitting lovers, and those who offer insult can all be dealt with in such a fashion. With a steady supply of marginally employed lay-members and ample justification for acts of violence and depravity, it should come as no surprise that beatings, robberies, vandalism, murder, rape, and even the occasional ritual sacrifice all take place in "service to" the faithful lay person.
Oftentimes, simply belonging to the Church can be likened to paying protection. Astute merchants are keenly aware of the fact that paying lip service (and a hefty tithe) to the church can frequently keep such kinds of "misfortune" from befalling them. This idea is not lost on the clergymen, who will often drop subtle hints that perhaps if the merchant in question would make but a small donation, the Wreaker would strike down whomever was vandalizing the merchant’s place of business. For those with an eye toward subtlety, the church can use promises of "spreading the word" of the merchant’s wares to the laity, something that can result in increased business from faithful Morgathian customers. Whether the carrot of promise or the stick of punishment, the result is often the same.
Further, the church is not above dispensing alms to the poor, especially those poor who have engaged in bringing about "miracles" on behalf of the church. In the way, the church effectively subsidizes its own gang of thugs and leg-breakers.
By and large, the laity are merely expected to attend lay masses, make a tithe to their church, and address their clergy with the proper modicum of fear, awe, and respect. However, for those who are unable to make appropriate tithes, the church allows adherents to "labor for the Wreaker." Such "labors" are generally the province of the Mohm Padar, the temple officer discharged with organizing the laity for church ends. Services run the entire range one might expect; putting in actual labor in temple upkeep or day-to-day life, standing guard at the temple, carrying messages for the priests, serving as guides or porters for "missionary expeditions," or even something as innocuous as passing valuable information along to members of the clergy. Those lay brothers and sisters who show talent or who execute their tasks with particular efficacy or zeal will be given more involved missions, like roughing up local personalities, sabotaging businesses or residences, arson, spying, or even murder.
In many senses of the word, the lay members are the tools of the clergy. They are used as pawns in the schemes of the church, in order to increase the secular influence and power that the Morgathians hold. This is in turn beneficial to the laity, as the more powerful the church becomes, the more "protection" or "miracles" it can offer. Thus, a symbiosis is achieved, whereby lowly lay brethren may take advantage of the strength that comes from belonging to such an influential organization.
Though it may initially appear that Morgathianism has little to offer save an eternity of torment, the true face of Morgathianism is far different. While the aims of the Morgathian church are generally anathema to most civilized societies and virtually all other religions, their dogma is not diabolical in or of itself. Further, for as much as other religions will continually try to repress and stomp out Morgathianism as a dangerous and "evil" belief, there will always be those who are dissatisfied, who are angry, who seek revenge, or who feel betrayed by their society or religion. It is in the hearts of these people that Morgathianism will always find fertile ground and flourish.
This original document was written by Marc Renouf