Tag: religion

Perhaps one in six Englishmen in the late twelfth century [C.E.] was technically a clergyman. While most were not and never would be priests, there were plenty in minor orders or who had entered the Church for an education and left to work for lay masters. Many parish priests were poorly educated and barely literate. Their lives would not have differed much from those of ordinary peasants. But clerical status bestowed great advantage if one fell foul of the law. The Church demanded the right to discipline criminous clerks but punishments were considerably lighter under canon law than under the secular criminal code. The Church would neither inflict trial by ordeal nor mutilate or execute the guilty….

— The Plantagenets, Unholy War

…I don’t think that every class should get a raft of soldiers. The cleric should get less soldiers and more zealots and believers, but probably this was a bit creepy for the 1979 company [that published Dungeons & Dragons]…. I can cheerfully allow an “evil” cleric player character to gain eighty or so deranged, murderous thuggees ready to konk women unconscious and burn them alive in monthly festivals…. This was done in reality, once; no reason it shouldn’t be done in a player’s imagination.

— Food for Powder, Food for Worms – The Tao of D&D

Another factor that strengthened the unity of the early village was the temple and its service. The immigrants from the north either brought with them or developed not long after their arrival an abiding faith in one special deity as the protector of their settlement, and with the building of their first houses they also erected a home for their divinity. For example, underlying the ruins of Eridu, one of Sumer’s most venerated cities, archeologists unearthed a mud-brick temple built on virgin soil by the original Ubaidian inhabitants. It was a small rectangular shrine, about 15 feet long, and its furnishings consisted of nothing more than a crude altar and an offering table. But as the villages prospered through agriculture and expanded into sizable towns, such humble shrines were enlarged into elaborate structures each set atop a lofty mud-brick platform, a prototype of the future ziggurat, or temple-tower. Each temple served an entire community, rather than an individual family or clan, and thus generated and intensified local patriotism, pride and effort.

Nor was the temple merely an edifice of lifeless brick and mortar; it was a holy place that had to be tended and cared for every day, year in and year out. Hymns and prayers had to be composed, formalized and recited; rites and rituals had to be performed; sacred festivals had to be celebrated. And so a specialized priesthood came into being, starting no doubt with the selection of one or two individuals noted for their learning and spiritual powers and proliferating in number and function over the centuries. In the course of time the temple and its priestly coterie naturally became the intellectual center of each community, and it is therefore not surprising that it was in the temple that writing was later invented and developed.

— Cradle of Civilization, pp. 33-34

Let’s consider a campaign setting dialed toward the pagan end of the spectrum. I will mostly be referencing Germanic paganism for this example because it is the historical culture I am most familiar with (note that this includes most of northern Europe from England to parts of Eastern Europe). Pagan gods are not all-powerful, nor are they omniscient or benevolent. They have different goals, biases, flaws and are more often worshipped out of reverence and respect and less out of love and devotion. They are given offerings in exchange for protection, favors, or just appeasement. On paper, this is pretty standard for your traditional D&D setting. But what we don’t really see is the implications and effects of this worldview on the setting. A pagan worldview is not one that is likely to lead to the traditions of medieval Europe nor the fantasy version of it with the holy knights, ornamented cathedrals, and battles between angels and demons.

Firstly, no place of worship was more important than the home, or more specifically, the hearth. Every proper home should have an altar around the hearth where offerings are prepared and daily prayer rituals are done. These alters can contain different shrines to different gods as well as shrines to non-deities such as ancestors and house spirits. That’s right, gods are not the only ones that receive prayers and offerings. It is just as important for a villager to give offerings to their local Kobold house spirit to keep them from causing trouble. On top of that, their ancestors are constantly watching, judging, and influencing from the afterlife. PCs and NPCs alike will want to pray to their ancestors for wisdom and seek to please them.

In general, the objects of worship: gods, spirits, and ancestors should be much more day-to-day than normally seen in fantasy settings. Farmers prayed to Thor to protect their cattle while housewives prayed to Freja to send cats to deal with mice. This doesn’t mean your adventurers can’t also summon the strength of a god to divine smite a giant, only that the gods are for everyone—not just high-level adventurers….

— Heathenizing Your RPG Campaign – Tabletop Tales

…In Japan the great monasteries have always tended to accumulate possessions owing to the freedom from taxation and control by the civil governors that they enjoyed, and the right they had of affording refuge to those who wished to escape from the oppression of the competitive world outside. These rights needed guarding in a land like Japan, where the military were not much inclined to be frightened by the ghostly terrors with which the monks tried to threaten them, and so the soldier monk consequently eventuated. Since the temples had so much property there would be no lack of volunteers for the honor of guarding it, and the great groups of temples like Hieizan and Nara (Tendai and Ritsu sects), and later the Amida and Nichiren sects, not to speak of the Shingon of Koya and Negoro, not only resisted the military government, but fought viciously among themselves, in all cases for loaves and fishes, or fish and saké rather, and not for any particular belief in the efficacy of their doctrines….

— Shogun, Chapter 4

“Why all the secrecy, Bishop? And the white smoke?”

“The Church is more often good theater these days than good religion. The secrecy originated in this century. Before the collapse of the papal states, the cardinals used to vote in St. John Lateran and live in the Lateran Palace. Each day they would walk down the street to the basilica of St. John Lateran for their day’s work and chat with the populace…. Even when the conclave was moved up to the Sistine Chapel, there was little attempt to keep the events secret. Everyone knew at the end of the day what the count was and who had voted for whom. The secrecy was imposed to protect the cardinals from the Roman emperor, that is to say, the Austrian emperor, whose ambassador had vetoed an election in 1903.”

“There isn’t an Austrian emperor anymore,” I said.

“You’ve noticed?”

— White Smoke, p. 71

The book is historical fiction but the historical fact is true.

In the ancient world, people did not stand apart from the cosmos. Instead ancient states and societies explored how people were partners with a sentient universe. The cosmos operated through regular rhythms and periodic events. Much effort went into understanding the regularities of the seasons or the movements of astral bodies, as well as the generally prescribed life course of people, plants and animals. Disrupting regular changes were events, many of which were dangerous, such as famine, flood, disease, earthquakes or volcanic eruptions. Once it had come into being, the pantheon of gods humanized the world, both in its cyclical processes and periodic events.

— Magic: A History, p. 74

One of the important powers of the Egyptian universe is heka, to which both gods and people are subject. This was the power that made creation possible and is often translated as ‘magic’. For the Egyptians, magic was both a force of the universe and a set of practices. A bit like the Force in Star Wars, heka is neither inherently good nor inherently bad: its effects depend on the intentions of those who wield it. There is a moral dimension to heka, but, having said that, there is little sense of black magic or witchcraft. The gods are more likely to misuse heka than are people. And Ancient Egyptians made little distinction between the sacred and the secular worlds: daily life is infused with the actions of gods and demons. As a consequence, there is no notion of a cosmic realm above nature. The separation we have come to make between science and religion did not exist in the same way in Egypt.

Furthermore, magic and religion were continuous: the gods were subject to heka, as well as being instantiations of its power, and some humans had greater control of heka than others. From this it follows that magic was not supernatural. As a practice, magic was one of the instruments available to people to hold the universe in harmony, although obviously complex training and considerable skill were needed for such large tasks; more humble magic could be used to shield from harm or to help cure minor ills. There was a spectrum of practitioners, from the priests of the major temples, with long training in how to wield heka, to men and women in villages who might protect the cattle herd from crocodile spirits when crossing a river, or a newborn baby from demons. For temple priests, written transmission of spells was vital; for more humble magic, oral transmission sufficed, so that we now know more about the former. The priests were also not moral teachers but paid specialists with defined duties. Temple priests could undertake private magical practice, for a fee, and the better-off could employ them in cases of real need, making private use of long state-funded training. Large temples had a House of Life, in which a library, a scriptorium where manuscripts were copied and a classroom were combined. Houses of Life also helped to create learned communities that could debate a range of cosmological and earthly matters.

It is worth bearing in mind the distinctive features of temples compared with mosques, synagogues or churches. Egyptian temples were not designed for congregations to worship; rather the opposite: they were to house gods in seclusion. In the form of their statues, they were clothed, fed and cared for in the temples. Such seclusion was interrupted regularly, when the gods were brought out on festivals, although still concealed in shrines covered in cloth. The town of Lahun had thirty-five annual festivals, some lasting for several days, and the general populace would have participated to various degrees, able to enjoy the food and drink of the temple, along with the gods. Harmony was the aim of the temple, but crisis was built into the magico-religious structure, with the passage of the Sun into the underworld every night a minor threat to life, with no absolute guarantee of return.

— Magic: a History, pp. 97-98

Conan:

The Riddle…of Steel.

Thulsa Doom:

Yes! You know what it is, don’t you, boy. Shall I tell you? It’s the least I can do.

Steel isn’t strong, boy. Flesh is stronger! Look around you—

[looks around before pointing up at a group of acolytes standing on a ledge high above]

There, on the rocks: that beautiful girl.

[gestures for girl to come to him]

Come to me, my child…

[girl willingly jumps to her death]

That is strength, boy! That is power! What is steel compared to the hand that wields it? Look at the strength in your body, the desire in your heart. I gave you this!

Such a waste. Contemplate this upon the Tree of Woe.

[looks to Rexor and Thorgrim]

Crucify him.

— “Conan the Barbarian” (1982)

Akira:

The gods are pleased with you! They will watch the battle.

Conan:

Are they going to help?

Akira:

No.

Conan:

[whimsical]

Well, then tell them to stay out of the way!

[They laugh.]

— “Conan the Barbarian” (1982)

Granaries are buildings of specialized design and necessity. Even villages will have one.

Tangentially, where are all the breweries?

Among the ancient Greeks, nothing of any importance could occur, no decisions could be made, without the accompanying flow of sacrificial blood. Funerals required sacrifices, as did celebrations and homecomings, vows and agreements. Risky ventures, such as journeys and wars, could not be undertaken without sacrifices both to reveal the likely outcome and to win the support of the gods. During campaigns, the military leader served also in the priestly role of sacrificer. As historian John Keegan reports of Alexander the Great:

Bizarre though it seems to us…his day began with his plunging of a blade into the living body of an animal and his uttering of prayer as the blood flowed.

— Blood Rites, p. 27

Balian:

…It seems I have lost my religion.

The Hospitaller:

I put no stock in religion. By the word “religion,” I’ve seen the lunacy of fanatics of every denomination be called the Will of God. I’ve seen too much religion in the eyes of too many murderers.

Holiness is in right action and courage on behalf of those who cannot defend themselves. And goodness. What God desires is here and here…

[points to Balian’s head then heart]

…And what you decide to do every day, you will be a good man. Or not.

— “Kingdom of Heaven” (2005)

The miraculously lifelike statues for which Greece is famous emerged from the Mystery schools. Their original function was…to help bring the gods to earth, to materialize. We know from the earlier use of statues in Egypt and Sumeria that it was intended that the gods occupy them, live in them as their physical bodies and make them come alive. If you stood in front of the statue of Artemis in Ephesus, the Mother Earth loomed over you like a great tree. You had a sensation of being absorbed into the vegetable matrix of the cosmos, the great ocean of weaving waves of light, and of being at one with it.

The statues would breathe, seem to move. It was said that sometimes they would speak to you.

— The Secret History of the World, Chapter 14

During the Neo-Assyrian Empire (934-609 [B.C.E.]), allied cities that revolted had their gods confiscated and transferred to the capital, on the grounds that the rebels’ defeat proved that their gods had abandoned them.

— Al Nofi’s CIC #408 – Strategy Page

This is something that would be very interesting to portray in a roleplaying game campaign.

In about 3250 [B.C.E.], Sumerian civilization arose in the land between the Tigris and the Euphrates [rivers]. In the early cities of Sumeria, statues to ancestors and lesser gods stood in family homes. A skull was sometimes kept as a ‘house’ that a minor spirit could inhabit. Meanwhile, the much greater spirit who protected the interests of the city was held to live in the ‘god house’, a building at the centre of the temple complex.

As these cities grew, so too did the god houses, until they became ziggurats, great stepped pyramids, built out of mud bricks. In the centre of each ziggurat was a large chamber in which the statue of the god resided, inlaid with precious metals and jewels, and wrapped in dazzling clothes.

According to the cuneiform texts, the Sumerian gods liked eating, drinking, music and dancing. Food would be put on tables, then the gods left alone to enjoy it. After a time the priests would come in and eat what was left. The gods also needed beds to sleep in and for enjoying sex with other gods. They had to be washed for this and dressed and anointed with perfumes.

As with the grave goods in Egypt, the aim of these practices was to try to tempt gods to inhabit the material plane, by reminding them of the sensual pleasures denied them in the spirit worlds.

— The Secret History of the World, Chapter 11

“Long, long ago,” said Merlin, “in the dawn of the world, when Egypt was young, when Ur of the Chaldees was a raw new city and Babylon but a cluster of huts beside a muddy river, there was a sorcerer, a great master of magic. At first he was a master of the light, but as he grew older and more aware of his own mortality, he turned little by little toward the dark. Then at last, in terror of death, he turned his back altogether on the light, and made a great pact with the Prince of Darkness—no less than that one who is called the Son of the Morning.”

“Sathanas,” Roland breathed. “The Great Evil.”

Merlin nodded. “Yes. That one himself. The sorcerer gave his soul in return for his body’s life. He gained much else, too: beauty, wealth, power. Oh, he was beautiful, like a dark angel, and men fell on their faces before him.

“But evil is never content. It was a condition of his pact that he be no king himself, but rule through the power of a king. And so he did, from generation to generation. But men’s lives are short and their memories treacherous. For each king who died, he must find another, corrupt him, raise him up, rule through him, watch him grow old, then have it all to do again.

“He grew greatly weary of this endless round. For a long while he withdrew from the world, built himself a fortress with strong spells, and set himself to master all magic that there was in the world. Yet he found he could not do that, for the magic of the light was now closed to him. And that, in its time, drove him nigh mad.

“Then in his stronghold, amid his armies of demons and spirits of the dark, he heard a rumor, a whisper, a tale brought in scattered fragments from the world’s heart. The Messiah had come to Jerusalem, or so it was said. He had come, and lived as the most mortal of men, and died as a criminal, hung on a cross.

“And that, said the messengers who brought this word to the world’s end, was preposterous; and yet it seemed to be true. For the light is incalculable, and its ways are not mortal ways, and it does as it pleases to do, beyond reason or sense or logic.

“The sorcerer would have regarded this as a curiosity, a fine tale for a long night, except for the rumor that came with it. It was even more fragmentary than the word of the Messiah—who after all was but the incarnation of a minor deity in a very small province of the Roman Empire. And Rome, as every seer knew, was about to destroy that province utterly, and scatter its people to the winds of the world.

“Still, the rumor was this: that before the god’s son died, he had celebrated a feast of sacrifice. He had offered up a cup of his own blood, blood of a god, in token of the life that would be given thereafter. And that, as any mage knew, was the greatest of sacrifices, the divine sacrifice, that could redeem or destroy the world.

“Others before him had done this. Osiris, Tammuz, the Green King—their blood bound the chains of earth and heaven, and strengthened the light in its long battle against the dark. But none of them had left behind a relic, a remembrance, a vessel that had held his blood. That vessel was in the hands of a man of Jerusalem, or so it was said; it was kept hidden, perhaps in ignorance of its power.

“For power it had, beyond any instrument of magic that had been in this world. It belonged to the light, but it was not necessarily of the light. In the hands of a master of the dark, it would be a great weapon, and a mighty force for destruction.

“The sorcerer wanted it. He wanted it as he had wanted nothing in all the long ages of his life—even more strongly than he had wanted to live forever. He wanted this thing, the cup of a god’s blood. He wanted it, and he set out to take it.

“And he could not win it. It was taken out of Jerusalem in its fall, when the Temple burned and Roman armies trampled the holy places. It was spirited away, hidden from him, taken to the far edge of the world, even to the isle of Britain. And there he found it, but he could not win it. It was too well protected.

“He wielded every sleight and wile and power at his disposal. He put on the semblance of mortal man: first a priest of the Romans, then a Druid of the Britons. But this cup, this Grail as it was called in Britain, was kept from him, and hidden away where he could not find it.

“Then at last he conceived a plan. He found a woman, a meek vessel as he thought her. He summoned a demon, a prince of his master’s court, to lie with her and get a child on her. For he could not do this himself, much as he might wish to: that was another price of his deathlessness, to forsake all pleasure of woman’s body, and all hope of getting children. But the demon whom he summoned put on his face, his semblance of supernal beauty, and so seduced the woman.

“In the passing of time she bore a son, a child without a father, a strange inhuman creature whose every breath was magic.”

“You,” said Roland. “That was you.”

“Yes,” said Merlin. “I was that child, wrought by a sorcerer to seize the Grail. But he had underestimated my mother. She was a princess of Gwynedd, a redoubtable woman even in her youth, and she was a Druid and the daughter of Druids. She raised me as she saw fit, and that was in the light; and when my creator came to claim me, I was already corrupted. My mother had warned me what to expect, and advised me to betray as little of myself as possible. Therefore I seemed a biddable young thing, and dull, so that the sorcerer decided in the end to leave me where I was—but aware of his presence, and ready to do as he bade me, whenever he should have need of me.

“Which in time he did. He used me to make a king as he had done so often before: to raise up Uther as king over Britain, and to seduce him with the lady of Cornwall, and thus to beget Arthur. Arthur was to be his puppet, his kingly servant.

“But I was my mother’s son, and from the very beginning I was Arthur’s man. I loved him, both the child he was and the king I foresaw. I swore a great oath before the gods, that I would keep him in the light, and never surrender him to the darkness.

“So did I betray my maker twice over. I was not the meek slave he had wrought me to be, nor was my Arthur the puppet king that he was to have been. We had defied him, and worse, succeeded—and made him our bitter enemy.

“It was he who sent the vision of the Grail into Arthur’s warband, and so broke the fellowship in its obsession with the quest. And it was he who seduced Nimue and set her to betray me; but she woke to the truth too late, and knew what she had done. She could not free me, but she could protect Arthur, and did, as much as she might. His kingdom fell, but his soul was saved; and his son, who was to have been the sorcerer’s puppet, was slain by Arthur’s own hand.

“As for the Grail, which was the cause of it all, it was indeed almost betrayed into the sorcerer’s hands. He found it in its hiding place in the kingdom of Montsalvat, in a fortress called Carbonek, protected by nine enchantresses and by a brotherhood of holy warriors ruled by a Druid king. The sorcerer corrupted the king’s son, maimed and nigh destroyed him. But when the Grail was all but in his grasp, one of Arthur’s own warband came bearing the power of the light, and so saved the prince and the fortress and the Grail. The sorcerer was cast down by the might of the Grail. His beauty was rent from him, and much of his strength. The Grail was saved. The light had conquered.

“But it was too late for me,” Merlin said, “or for Nimue, whom I still loved. Poor child, she was racked with guilt. She swore to guard me, and bound our daughter to it, too. I would not have permitted that, but she was careful to do it where I could not prevent her.

“For she was convinced that as greatly diminished as our old enemy was, he was not dead; and he would look for me, to destroy me if he could, for I had betrayed him in everything that I did. I had raised Arthur in the light, I had won over Nimue—and yes, I had taught that young warrior, too, the one called Parsifal, so that he came to Montsalvat and redeemed its prince, and saved the Grail. He had a fair store of magic, did Parsifal. His forefathers had brought the Grail out of Jerusalem before its fall; and Nimue was his mother’s child, his own sister.”

“You taught him deliberately, then,” said Roland. “You knew what he would be.”

“Ah,” said Merlin, lifting his shoulder in a shrug. “I take no credit for that. The gods—or God, if you will—had rather more to do with it than I did. But he was a good pupil. Not as good as his sister, or for that matter as you are, but good enough in the end. He nearly failed, you know. When he came to Montsalvat, his foresight abandoned him. He was silent when he should have spoken, and shrank back when he should have been bold. But for that, the sorcerer would never have found the Grail’s hiding place at all.”

“But because he did,” Roland said, “he was destroyed. Wasn’t it a good thing, then, that Parsifal did seem to fail?”

“Some would call it blind luck,” Merlin said. “I call it the gods’ hand—and their humor, too, maybe.”

— Kingdom of the Grail, Prelude

Lord Vaako:

This is your one chance. Take the Lord Marshal’s offer and bow.

Riddick:

I bow to no man.

Lord Vaako:

He’s not a man. He’s the Holy Half-Dead who has seen the Underverse and returned with powers you can’t imagine.

— “The Chronicles of Riddick” (2004)

A message from the gods is worth more than a plot of land. A wise party will seek these messages when possible, as they can greatly aid them on their dangerous travels. Messages of…

• …coming blessings from a deity
• …warnings against certain actions or plans
• …judgement against the party or their enemies for an offense
• …indictment for what the party has done wrong
• …instruction on what to do next

…are extraordinarily valuable. Unfortunately for the party, messages from the divine are few and far between for the common person. Even if they were to receive such a message, its meaning would be totally lost on them—they do not have the proper training! All is not lost however, as the gods are not limited in their means of communication.

Official Prophecy

Any king worth his weight in whatever is his most lucrative export is going to sponsor prophets. These prophets are no ecstatic or dreamer, oh no; these are professionals trained in cultivating prophecies and communicating the messages of the gods above. A wise king has many prophets representing many different gods, for where there is no guidance the people fall, but in abundance of counselors there is victory.

These prophets are the king’s advisers, who communicate to the king important information from the gods regarding politics, war, and religion. Besides this, the king has certain responsibilities, such as maintaining justice and caring for the dispossessed with his domain. A word from above can give the guidance necessary to bring success to the king in these responsibilities. And when the king is successful, everyone is successful.

Employing an Official Prophet

An official prophet has little need to work with such commoners as the party. Even if the party should be successful and gain lands, herds, flocks, and servants, the king is far greater, and the king is the prophet’s sponsor. The prospect of successfully buying an official prophet’s prophecy has a 1-in-10 chance.

However, all is not hopeless. Should a party member be of a noble background, the chance increases by 2. Should a party member be of a religious background, the chance increases by 1. If that same party member happens to be a strong follower of the same deity of the prophet, the chance increases by 2. In the right circumstances, the chance of successfully buying an official prophet’s prophecy in a 4-person party could be as high as 9-in-10.

That being said, it is a rare case indeed for such a high chance. The best way for the party to gain an audience with an official prophet is through the big guy himself: the king. Kings often give incredible gifts to loyal and proven servants, and a prophecy from an official prophet can be of great worth in the dangerous occupation the party has chosen.

Informal Prophecy

The gods don’t always use the “official” lines of communication. They are mysterious and their activities are hard to discern; that they use ecstatics and dreamers from both priests and laypersons is not surprising. Despite their lack of training and inability to cultivate messages from the gods regularly, their prophecies are no less important or informative.

A wise king has a few ecstatics in his care at all times. They are not reliable in their frequency, but are more like hot springs in the deserts: they do nothing for long periods of time…and then a sudden burst of energy from the divine! These do not function as the more learned ones, but enjoy the hospitality of the palace, if also experiencing some hostility from the temple.

Employing a Dreamer or Ecstatic

Dreamers and ecstatics are not always in the king’s care. Often they are found within the community the party finds themselves in. However, employing them for the purpose of prophecy is a gamble that may never pay off. Should it, the party will gain what they seek: a message from the gods. Should it not, the party will have naught more than a leech on their resources. Any offer above the current living conditions of the dreamer or ecstatic should be enough to gain their employ.

Those NPCs designated dreamers have a 5-in-100 chance of gaining a message from the gods during their rest. Those NPCs designated ecstatics have a 1-in-100 chance of gaining a message from the gods normally. When ecstatics are in a heightened state, whether through drugs, sex, or some other means, the chance increases to 5-in-100. Both dreamers and ecstatics will know the proper interpretation of their messages.

Those within the party have a 1-in-100 chance of receiving a message from deity when they rest or achieve a heightened state. Those of an academic, magical, musical, or religious background have a 2-in-100 chance instead. However, they will not know how to interpret the message from the gods, for the symbolism is deep and requires intense knowledge of their meanings. The party will need to gain the service of a temple consultant to discern its meaning.

Incubation

The party has another means of gaining a message from the divine, but the means of doing it are incredibly dangerous for anyone other than the king or his highest officials. If the party can enter the sacred space of the deity they wish to ask a question—that deity’s temple, garden, or ziggurat—and sleep there overnight without being killed for their irreverence and sacrilege, they have a 1-in-10 chance of receiving a message in the form of a dream.

It would be safer to gain entrance into the sacred space rather than sneak in. Gaining entrance is hard, but the best way to gain it is as a gift for services given to the temple or palace. Along with the gifted opportunity to incubate will come the offer to then interpret the dream’s message. As always, it is best to be in the good graces of the king and temple priests.

Other Means

There are other ways of discerning the will of deity, but that is through deduction, not inspiration. For a truly inspired message, directly from deity to man, one must use prophets, dreams, or periods of ecstasy. There simply is no other way to get a direct message from above.

— Discerning the Will of Deity by Inspiration – Stepped On a d4

Alas, that blog is gone, and the Internet Archive does not have a copy of this blogpost. I have copied the entire text here for posterity.

…[A] common lacking I’ve seen in many role-playing games with clerics [is] the lack of importance of a holy ground. While in a lot of fantasy media and historic folklore there is a strong importance of being on holy ground, not so in most games.

In Piecemeal, holy ground is a prime consideration for using Priest Miracles. Most healing and damage spells are given a re-roll, or reduced piety cost when cast on holy ground. Weapons wielded by the faithful on holy ground count as magical (making the town chapel an ideal place of refuge when the werewolves attack) and those of enemy faith’s cannot heal on holy ground.

This makes being on holy ground (and not being on unholy ground) very important to consider. But how prevalent is holy ground? “Consecrate Ground” is a priest miracle, any PC or NPC priest who wants to spend the piety may use this miracle. It turns a shrine, temple or church into holy ground for as long as the shrine , temple or church remains undefiled. Thus in conflicts it is often important to make sure you destroy the unholy sites of the enemy.

Why is this good?

1. On a tactical level this adds a spiritual element to the terrain. When fighting an evil cult to Baphomet, deep in the woods around the base of the JuJu tree you need to make some decisions. Do you focus on fighting the cultists and the high priest first and destroy the shrine afterwards? Doing so means your priest is at a disadvantage and the enemy priest is at an advantage. You could also focus on setting the JuJu tree on fire first, letting the high priest use more infernal miracles against you. And a third option is to perhaps have a thief sneak in [beforehand] and set fire to the JuJu tree as a signal to begin the attack. It adds choices and more strategy to terrain.
2. It makes the local temple or church more of a “safe house” from the supernatural and occult shrines that much more foreboding of a place to venture.
3. It allows priest characters the ability to add permanent additions to the world that will have a lasting and recurring benefit to them.

— Be Careful on Holy Ground – Unofficial Games

Thank the gods for the Internet Archive Wayback Machine, else I could not have linked to the source blogpost.