TEXT: So, ye want to learn about the Old Faith, d’ye?  Tchah!  I dinna ken what this younger 
  generation is a-comin’ to.  Aye, aye, I ken…ye didna have ye’r old Grannies to teach you 
  proper.  Well, set yeselves down and listen to ol’ Granny Menna and I’ll learn ye about the 
  real Old Faith. 
   
  Aye, ye can talk to them priests of Pelor or Ehlonna, or whatever, and get yeself a piece of 
  the story.  Contrarywise, ye can settle down by my hearth here and learn the way we Flan 
  have been doing it since nigh on forever: from mother to daughter to grandchild.  T’is the 
  best way, ye ken, mostly ‘cause the Old Faith is about a family. 
   
  Now then, every family has to have a father and a mother.  For us Old Faith followers, the 
  father is Pelor and the mother is Beory.  Father Pelor is the sun, which warms Oerth (the 
  Mother) and brings life to Her.  This is where we get their two children, Ehlonna and Obad-
  Hai.  But just as you have to have the bitter with the sweet, a family’s got to have its black 
  sheep.  Our black sheep is Nerull.  Now, now…don’t get yeselves in a fratch!  I ain’t a-talkin’ 
  ‘bout the Nerull them arse-crazy clerics of Nerull talk about.  Boy have THEY got the wrong 
  end of the cow!  Nerull don’t mean death!  Less’n you reckon that death is an end in itself.  
  Take a look at that ol’ stump over yonder.  Tell me what you see.  Aye, you see what’s left of 
  a big ol’ tree that useta shade this old house of mine.  Looks dead, huh?  Well, look closer.  
  See them beetles?  Well, they’re just a-chewin’ and a-borin’ away and turnin’ that old stump 
  in some fine ol’ mulch.  And them sprouts ye see?  Well, they’re gonna grow up someday 
  into another fine old tree and this house’ll be cosier than ever!  Death ain’t an end.  It’s just a 
  stoppin’ point on the circle of life. 
   
  If ye talk to the priests they’ll try to fill ye up with a lot of sheep droppings ‘bout The Eternal 
  Cycle and sech.  About birth-life-death and how the Old Faith mirrors this circle.  Well, 
  they’m have a piece of the truth, but ain’t none of them got the whole tree.  The real Eternal 
  Cycle they forget about is the cycle of time.  Them old priests, they count the year from the 
  first of Needfest to the last day of Sunsebb.  But we old grannies ken that the year REALLY 
  begins on the 25th of Coldeven with the Spring Equinox. 
   
  What?  Ye thought the Spring Equinox was on the 4th of Growfest?  Where did ye learn that, 
  you young fool!  That’s what them Oeridians want you to think.  Nay, nay, ‘tis well known 
  amongst we Old Faith that the calendar ‘tisn’t quite the way Mother Beory set the seasons.  
  Harken well, and learn the way the Old Faith counts the seasons. 
   
  Spring is the time of the Maiden and the maiden is Ehlonna.  In fact, in some of the places 
  where they raise sheep and sech, they have a special festival called Llevrith.  That means “New 
  Milk” for you younguns who don’t speak your mother tongue.  It’s a way to say “Thank you” 
  to Ehlonna for lookin’ over the birth of the new lambs.  Most folks celebrate that on the 18th 
  of Readying.  Some say that Beory as the Mother is also honored, but hereabouts we reckon 
  
  that autumn is the Mother’s time.  Someplaces even have a special ceremony called “The 
  Dance of the Maidens” to honor Ehlonna.  ‘Course “maiden” sometimes only means that the 
  gel ain’t married yet.  Heh, heh, heh!  I ‘member a few years back when my niece Rowena 
  danced in the ceremony and near dropped her first born on its head.  One of them “old 
  granny tales” I ‘member hearin’ when I was your age was how, if a young woman put an early 
  spring flower under her pillow on the Solstice, she’ll dream of her one true love.  Heh, heh, 
  heh, I tried it and all I got was some ants in my bed. 
   
  One special thing we do that does honor the Mother in the spring is the Blooding of the 
  Plows.  Now most of ye seem to be from good farmin’ stock, so maybe ye’ve heard bits of 
  tales ‘bout this.  Some silly folk think this means we kill some poor fool and sacrifice him to 
  Beory or Nerull or some such stupidness.  Horsefeathers!  What this means is that we 
  recognize that, ever time we draw a plow through the ground, we’re cutting into the 
  Mother’s flesh.  Mayhap once upon a time them old Ur-Flan did such silliness, but now all 
  that happens is that the oldest farmer of a village makes a small cut on his hand and smears 
  the blood over the plowshares of the village.  Then, the oldest woman in the village plows the 
  first furrow (usually with her grandkids doin’ most of the work).  Lastly, the newest mother 
  in the village sows the first seed.  That way we honor the Mother for giving us her bounty. 
   
  Now then, summer (as we reckon it) is Father Pelor’s time.  We celebrate his power by havin’ 
  a fine ol’ time on the 25th of Wealsun.  That’s the real summer solstice, not that silly thing 
  some folks call Richfest.  Not that we don’t celebrate during Richfest, too.  Heck, anytime 
  the sun’s shinin’ is a good time to say a quick Thank’ee to Father Pelor.  Mostly hereabouts 
  we have all the clan gather for a big night of dancing and eating.  Most folks try to wear 
  something yellow and the really rich folks sometimes give each other bits of gold to carry to 
  remind them of the Father’s warmth. 
   
  Like I said before, autumn is the Mother’s time.  We give her special thanks for the bountiful 
  harvest she gives as well as prepare for the time when the Mother sleeps.  Lots o’ folks have a 
  celebration they call “First Fruits.”  Whether the village grows apples and makes seider or 
  grows grapes or berries for wine, the first pressing is always done by mothers.  The men 
  harvest the fruit, but only women who’ve given birth actually press out the juice.  This is also 
  the festival where newly married women are taught the Mother’s Secrets.  Don’t know these?  
  Well, I reckon ye’ll just have to wait ‘til ye get hitched and come back to Grandma Menna for 
  your lessons then, huh?  Oh, that reminds me, the menfolk have something similar that they 
  do to the young men when they get their first beard.  It happens nearabouts the Summer 
  Solstice.  But I reckon you’ll have to find an old granfer to tell you ‘bout that. 
   
  Last of all in autumn, we celebrate Wiccrhys, or “All Hallows Eve” in the common tongue.  
  This happens on the 18th of Patchwall.  The priests say that “the borders of the spirit world 
  grow thin on this night”.  Personally, I think it’s just one last excuse for a last big party before 
  
  settlin’ down to the long slog of winter.  I’ve heard tell that the folks living up in Hochoch 
  and them other big cities get all dressed up and run around like they’re fairies or some 
  sechlike.  Mostly round here all we do is gather up the family and lay a wreath of wheat 
  sheaves and berries on the grave markers of our  dead.  Then we sing old songs to remind 
  ourselves of the old times when near ever’body followed the Old Faith. Sometimes the older 
  children will try to scare each other by telling the fearsomest tales they can think of.  The call 
  it “Tweaking Nerull’s Nose” and dare each other to try outlandish things like walkin’ through 
  the woods in the middle of the night.  Useta be that the worst thing they had to worrit about 
  was a-scarin’ themselves witless.  These days, ain’t too many who try that ‘cause of the 
  Troubles. 
   
  Winter is Nerull’s time.  The Mother sleeps and Father Pelor seems far away.  The ground is 
  hard and cold and almost everything seems dead.  This is when we celebrate the Winter 
  Solstice on the 25th of Sunsebb.  This festival starts at sundown when all the lights, ‘cept one 
  white candle, are put out.  This candle is to remind us that, even in the depths of winter when 
  Nerull rules the land, Father Pelor is still watching over us.  Just before the candle gutters out 
  in the wee hours of the morning, the oldest male of the family rekindles the hearth fire from 
  this candle.  It’s considered bad cess if the candle goes out before the hearth fire gets going 
  well.  During the night, the whole family huddles together and tells stories of the past year.  
  Sometimes, the eldest members of the family teach the youngsters about their ancestors and 
  remind them why we follow the Old Faith.  Once the new hearth fire is started the women of 
  the family cook a big breakfast and everyone exchanges presents, usually hand-made items.  
  The ceremony ends when the first rays of the sun are seen and everyone leaves the house to 
  sing a welcome to Father Pelor. 
   
  What’s that?  You want to know how come I ain’t talked about Obad-hai or Allitur?  Oh yes, 
  they’re a part of the Old Faith alright, but Obad-hai is more for them folks as makes their 
  living hunting in the forest.  He’s sort of a troubled son to Pelor and Beory.  I’ve even heard 
  tell that there’s bad blood ‘tween the followers of Ehlonna and Obad-hai.  Prolly like most 
  family squabbles, a whole lotta fuss over nothing.  I’ve also heard whispers that Obad-hai is 
  somehow involved with them secret things the old grandfers teach the young men round 
  abouts the Summer Solstice, but – like I said – ye’ll have to ask an old Grandfer about that. 
   
  As for Allitur, he’s more interested in makin’ sure that people behave themselves.  Almost 
  ever’ village has a priest of Allitur somewheres about to handle any problems between the 
  steadings or to figger out when to perform a certain ceremony.  Other than that, I don’t 
  reckon most regular folks deal much with Allitur.  Allitur does enforce oaths and is usually 
  invoked whenever a couple gets hitched or suchlike. 
   
  Well, there ye have it.  Grandma Menna’s quick lesson in the Old Faith.  I ‘spect to see ye all 
  next solstice so you remember your lessons.  And don’t forget to walk softly on the Land, 
  
  for it is by the Blood of the Mother, and the warmth of the Father that all good comes to 
  Life. 
   
   
  
SOURCE: textdata/thevault/Living Greyhawk/Metaorg Material/Geoff/Old Faith.pdf