The history of the Order of the
Hammer is a long one; one irrevocably intertwined with the City itself. The date of the formation of the Hammerite
Order is shrouded in a fog of mystery so thick and blinding that even the eyes
and minds of their own scholars cannot pierce it. The Hammerites seem to have always existed, and even though their
future is not certain the marks they have left on the City ensure that they
will always be remembered.
Hammerite history and lore holds that the Order began with the
revelation by the Builder to his appointed representative in this dimension –
the prophet honoured by the Hammerites as the Prophet Jeremyn. It is held that it is he who first revealed
the Builder’s Truth to those around him, and guided them as they built the
first houses with the first rough tools the land had known. The Hammerites still honour a primitive
hammer they hold to be the first ever made – its origins and antiquity are
doubtful, but it is venerated by the Order as one of their most holy relics.
The Prophet seems not only to have given the early Hammerites the
skills to “forge a new way of life”, thus enabling them to no longer have to
steal the “fur and fang of beasts for survival”. He granted them the Book of the Nail – a book of many chapters,
in verse, laying out the basis of Hammerite theology and tales to illustrate
it. The book also contains histories of
the Order, suggesting that it was originally an oral tradition that was
eventually written down
Opinion is divided as to whether the Prophet Jeremyn was a true
prophet, or whether his talk of the Master Builder were the convincing
delusions of a deranged man. Indeed, it
is not known whether or not he actually existed, although most scholars are
convinced of the existence of a man who played a prominent role in the
foundation of the Order. Some believe
that he was a true Prophet passing on the word of the Builder, thus implying
His existence, while others believe that the man was a deranged lunatic who
invented a religion convincing enough to cause others to join it and venerate
him as a prophet and holy man.
The controversy continues to range, and it seems unlikely that
there will ever be a justifiable answer.
While the Bonehoard was still accessible it was rumoured that the Order
closely guarded a coffin of ancient bones gilded with gold – the possibility
exists that these were the venerated bones of the Prophet. However, the Bonehoard now lies sealed and
abandoned, and whatever lay in the Hammer vaults must have long since been
scattered and abandoned by the burricks and the undead down there. No one dares to visit the giant mausoleum to
confirm this though.
Whatever their origins, the Order of the Hammer remained confined
to the City for many years after its foundation. However, all evidence – or rather, its lack – suggests that the
Hammers remained a small band of ridiculed fanatics, mocked for their devotion
to a mythical Master Builder and their continual prophecies of doom for those
who followed the teachings of the Trickster.
As the woods and mountains surrounding the growing town gradually began
to be tamed, the myths of the Trickster receded into the back of peoples’
memories, and fewer people were convinced of their reliability.
This situation continued for many years until the rise of a
certain Baron who was probably one of the only ones of his line to regard the
Order as an ally. He realised that the
architectural and mechanical skills of the Hammerites, passed down from priest
to novice surrounded by dogma and doctrine, would be of incalculable value to
the developing City if they could be released into general circulation. The Baron, seeing that force would not work
with the Order, decided to embrace it.
Through a combination of threats and rhetoric the Baron was appointed
High Priest of the Order of the Hammer.
The wisdom of his appointment was questioned by many in the City,
most of whom regarded the Hammerites as fanatical cultists. However, the benefits of the Baron’s move
were soon released onto an unsuspecting City, silencing the dissenters. Hammer pumping machines were used to move
the greatest luxury of all – fresh water – to the populace; the rich received
it directly into their houses, while the poor had to be content with standpipes
and fountains at street corners. The
machines were also used to pump away the sewage that had become a great
nuisance to the City, and dispose of it into the river at first, and then
finally the sea. Hammerite lamps and
power machines lit the City with their bright glare, while the Order rejoiced
at the opportunity to ‘consecrate’ the Pagan ground by building new structures
of brick and stone upon them.
The favours and liberties bestowed upon the Hammerites attracted
many adherents – some through the genuine desire to partake in the Builder’s
blessing, others to take advantage of the Order’s increasing riches. As construction work progressed, the Hammers
levied ‘voluntary’ tithes on the new occupants. If they refused payment, then the vital services connected to the
buildings were shut off. The Order
justified it as a means to raise money with which to glorify the Master
Builder, but the more cynical people saw it for what it was – corruption and
greed within the ranks of the faithful.
Whatever their reasons, the new adherents boosted the Order’s
numbers considerably. This was coupled
with a rise in the number of people worshipping the Master Builder and desiring
a place in which to honour him. Small
temples began to emerge in various parts of the City. Built like small fortresses, they were a solid and visible symbol
of the newfound prestige of the Order.
The rise in their numbers also led the Order to begin an ambitious
project – the policing of the City streets.
Until this point, public and Baronial hostility had prevented them from
doing it. Now, with the Baron a High
Priest, permission was granted. Hammerite
watchman patrolled the City with swords the Order forged themselves. Secular laws in the City were harmonised
with the stricter Hammerite dogma, reassuring the Hammers that suspects they
turned over to the City courts upon arrest would be judged according to
Hammerite values.
Eventually, numbers grew to a point where the upper echelonss of
the Hammerite clergy felt that they required a building worthy of the size and
prestige of their order. Construction
began on a great cathedral in the Old Quarter, intended to awe non-believers
with their power, and provide a fitting place for the faithful to worship. Built as a statement and symbol as well as a
place of worship, the new cathedral was a vast construction. Consisting of a massive nave with small
ancillary buildings behind it, it was approached by several broad flights of
stairs that were intended to induce a sense of awe in all who came before
it. As its popularity increased the
ancillary buildings were torn down, and the St. Yora’s Dormitories built to
house the growing number of resident priests.
A cloister connected it to the Cathedral proper.
However, this time of Hammerite supremacy and popularity was not
to last for long. The death of the aged
Baron and the conflict over the succession resulted in the Order being forced
to take sides. The Hammers lent their
support to the devout brother of the late Baron, sending forces to aid in the
skirmishes that occurred as the Baron’s brother fought with his own
nephew. Upon the defeat of the brother,
the nephew ascended to the throne and instituted a plan to destroy the Order
that had had the temerity to oppose his lawful accession, and whom still
represented the greatest threat to his rule.
The higher orders of the Hammerites clergy were arrested on the
orders of the new Baron, and brutally tortured before being carried into the
great forests and left there – the greatest insult that could ever be paid to a
devout Hammerite. The temples of the
Order were captured, desecrated and razed to the ground one by one, their
fortified nature allowing them to hold out for a while against the Baron’s
private army that was set against them.
Hammerite watchmen and guards were chased down and slaughtered while on
patrol, and their heads mounted on spikes above the gates into the City.
The remaining members of the Order were forced into a desperate
last-ditch defence at their new Cathedral.
Defending the area with a rough palisade fence and crude stone wall,
they soon began to run short of weaponry, food and water. A well was dug to provide the latter, while
several scouting raids managed to accumulate a minimum of food. The weapons were a problem however. Formerly, weapon-smithing had occurred at
various temples around the City on a piecemeal basis, with individual craftsmen
turning out swords for general use, and elaborate sledgehammers for ceremonial
use. When the supply of swords ran dry,
the Order used the sledgehammers as weapons.
The strategy proved so successful that they adopted the weapon
immediately as their standard armament.
The Hammerites’ salvation eventually came from without and not
within. Aided by several scions of the
nobility, the new Baron’s uncle overthrew the Baron and took his place on the
throne. The action greatly shocked many
of the inhabitants of the City – such an event was unprecedented. However, it was also welcomed. The withdrawal of the Hammerites from public
services had caused their collapse, and as the war had raged the City had
slowly ground to a halt. Being a devout
Hammerite, the new Baron moved quickly to end the conflict. The siege was terminated immediately, and
those nobles who had supported it were sentenced to death. All was set up to allow the Hammers a return
to the role they had played before the crisis.
However, this was not to be.
The Order had been deeply traumatised by their experience. From a position of being honoured and feted
by a Baron they had gone to being despised and brutally attacked by his
son. They possessed no leaders and no
experienced theologians to help them reconcile their doctrine with the ordeal
they had gone through. More
significantly, they had lost a great proportion of their number, and more had
left when the Baron had taken the Order’s tithes and riches. The new Baron did what he could for his
brethren, but to no avail, and in the end he was forced to form a department to
work the derelict pumps and machinery.
Their role in society taken over, the Hammer policy and attitude
became increasingly introspective as the Order sought to heal the corruption
its remaining theologians believed had caused the Order’s fall. Many Hammers saw the tithes that they had
gathered as signs of ruinous decadence, and purges throughout the Order removed
all but the devout. Heretics were
punished severely, and those remaining began to adopt an increasingly ascetic
lifestyle.
Worship of the Master Builder became concentrated on the sole
centre remaining – the Hammerite Cathedral.
Repaired and renovated, its cloister was enhanced by the addition of
several buildings. St. Tenors was built
to produce weapons and machinery that would render the Order self-sufficient,
and St. Jenels built to provide meditation cells for the Hammerites. The later addition of St. Vales reflected
the new Hammerite emphasis on learning and adherence to scripture, and was also
intended to house the growing body of literature that the Order was now
producing. As well as the possible
transcription of the oral tradition of the Book of the Nail, written commentaries
were set down, along with books of codified and doctrinally sound law. Intended to enforce conformity with the
Builder’s wishes, the commentaries and laws became known as the Hammer Book of
Tenets and the Hammer Compendium of Precepts, Rules and Regulations. These continue to this day to form the
preponderance of Hammerite theology and doctrine.
Outside of the Cathedral, events were taking a turn the Order did
not approve of. Because of the burden
of maintaining the new Department of Public Works, the Baron had increased
taxes. To reduce popular discontent, he
relaxed the secular laws and statutes, which the populace had found to be too
strict and unforgiving. He also restricted
another cherished Hammerite right despised by the populace – the right to
arrest and try subjects on their own accord.
It should be noted that these measures were enforced to prevent a
popular revolt, and are known to have been reluctantly imposed by the new
Baron, who was a devout follower of the Order.
As can be imagined, this did not sit well with the new, severe
brand of the Order of the Hammer.
Seeing these measures as a betrayal of the agreement they had made
several generations before, they began to threaten action against the
Baron. Caught between the two equally
dangerous forces of the Hammerites and the proletariat, he took one of the only
courses open to him. In return for the
relaxation of the secular laws, the Order would be granted to right to arrest
and incarcerate suspects – subject to the approval of the city courts. This situation pleased neither party, but
the alternative would have likely torn the City apart.
Now that the Hammerites had obtained the right to incarcerate
criminals, they required a place in which to do so. As a result, Cragscleft Prison came into being. Work began soon after the agreement, in a
disused and worked-out quarry in the Esse range of mountains outside of the
City. Former dormitories, offices and
storage rooms were renovated or rebuilt into blocks of cells. Four cellblocks and a central punishment
yard were converted from old barracks and the level below converted into a
factory for the production of sledgehammers.
Remotely operated gates to the cells were fitted, together with a
power system to allow their operation. The
first prisoners were used to renovate the old mines below the gaol, and begin
the construction of a new series of levels.
Construction was delayed, and then halted, by strange occurrences that
eventually led to the disappearance of several criminals, their subsequent
reappearance as undead creatures, and the resulting abandonment of the project.
At first, only Cell Block 1 was utilised, due to a shortage of
guards that precluded any usage of the other cellblocks. Admittance into the Order slowly increased
as the Hammerites used their right of arrest and incarceration to increase
their power and prestige, and so the remaining cell blocks gradually became
operational.
By the time this had become the case, the Hammers were powerful
enough to be a matter of concern to
the new Baron. The Order continued to
send out patrols of watchmen to reduce street crime and petty offences, a
strategy that began to gain them approval, although perhaps not support, from
the working classes. The Baron felt
that this threatened his authority and his technical claim to have the sole
right to administer justice in the City.
He established the Department of the City Guard to combat this, and
succeeded in both finally having a police force of detectable ability and
annoying the Order of the Hammer.
When events caused the City Guard to march out of the City to face
Blackbrook’s armies, the Hammerites were well placed to exploit the power
vacuum that resulted from their departure and their return as a battered and
denuded force. The rapid development of
the City Army and subsequent recovery of the City Guard deprived the Order of
much of the power they had gained, and they were reduced to a significant but
ultimately powerless position. The
diffusion of their previously monopolised technologies into general
circulation, aided by the glut of cheap coal and iron ore, meant that they lost
power to the new industrialists who set up factories to take advantage of the
technologies.
The City entered a golden age from which the Order, to their great
fury, seemed to be excluded. Denied
what had for a long time been their sole source of influence, power and income,
their prestige fell as the City increased in prosperity thanks to secular
machinery. The removal of the Order’s
influence coincided with, or perhaps resulted in, an increase in conspicuous
Pagan worship. Attempts to combat this
were rebuffed humiliatingly by the Baron, who was aware of the benefits of
allowing a fringe group such as the Order of the Vine a modicum of freedom, to
act as a distraction to the Hammerites.
The Hammers fell further into ignominy as their role as watchmen were
taken over by an increasingly competent City Guard.
Faced with falling support and a drought of adherents, the Order
was split by a conflict over possible solutions. Some supported a return to the strict and ascetic traditions of
their fathers, while others advocated the development and improvement of the
technologies that had gained them their power, and others the use of an item
newly discovered by them. It was a
gemstone called the Eye, an instrument of the Trickster that the Hammerites had
faced before and acquired through unknown means and methods. Some of the Order, the young and the
radical, pushed strongly that its magic be tamed and used for the Hammerite
cause as it had been used against them.
The man then High Priest of the Order of the Hammer was weak and
vacuous, forever influenced by the machinations of the Master Forgers. Against his better judgement, he was
persuaded by the leader of the radicals to install the Eye in the citadel of
Hammerite power, the Cathedral, and there turn its power against the Pagans.
Brother Murus was greatly opposed to the plan, but died in unusual
circumstances in the workyard of the Cathedral before he could disseminate his
pleas fully. Some Hammers came to share
his misgivings, especially when the Eye demonstrated how it could escape its
vault and float over the altar each morning.
However, before anything could be done disaster struck. The Eye managed to resurrect the corpses of
those killed in the siege of the Cathedral, who had been hastily buried in
unconsecrated ground during the conflict those many years ago. The undead, rotting and decaying, proved
impossible to kill with the stone sledgehammers the Hammerites wielded, and
many were slain by the rusty blades the undead soldiers still carried. In vain the Hammerites bolted their steel
doors – the undead, with superhuman strength, brought down part of the St.
Yora’s dormitories and broke into the building. Hammerites struck down arose as the undead, cold light aflame in
their eyes. Many took swords off the
undead, wielding them with inhuman skill as they laughed manically.
The Hammers fought a desperate rear-guard as a group of them went
to ring the great bells of the Cathedral, which normally called worshippers to
prayer. Awakened by this unusual
occurrence, the citizens living around the Cathedral stumbled out of bed to see
a forlorn battle in progress, as the undead forced the Hammers out of the
Cathedral and down the great flight of steps that led up to it. Many fled immediately, not even stopping to
take their valuables. A contingent of
the City Guard arrived soon after to help, but they proved ineffective and only
provided more enemies as they were slaughtered.
Keeper Andrus, sleeping in the Keeper Grotto, was awakened by the
commotion, and went himself to the scene to view the situation. He immediately saw that the Hammers were
doomed, and that unless action were taken the undead would overrun the Old
Quarter and then the City, forever tipping the Balance in favour of the
Trickster. Making a split-second
decision, he despatched a contingent of Keepers back to the Keeper Compound to
collect the Elemental Talismans, which had been preserved for an occasion as
serious as this. Andrus then sent the
remainder of the Keepers at the Grotto to the steps of the Cathedral, armed
with holy water and fire arrows to hold back the undead until the Talismans and
their mounts could be collected.
Andrus knew that this would reveal our presence to the world, and
so paid a personal visit to the High Priest, who had displayed uncharacteristic
strength of character and come to supervise the conflict. During a brief meeting Andrus laid out the
situation, and said that we would contain the evil engulfing the Cathedral –
provided that the Order make available all their men to guards us at our work,
and that our existence be kept a secret from all the City. We knew we had no hope of working
undetected, and this hastily negotiated agreement at least ensured that we were
known only to the upper echelons of the Order.
Armed with holy water and fire arrows we ourselves provided, the
Hammerites formed a protective cordon around us as we used explosives to
demolish the houses around the Cathedral and form a barrier that the undead
could not progress beyond. Then, we
cooperated with the Hammerites to drive the undead back up the stairs and into
the Cathedral. As we worked at the
doors, the Hammers drove off the undead.
Eventually the task was done, and we nailed our warning above the
Cathedral door.
Returning with the Elemental Talismans, we discovered alarming
news. The Cloister gate at the rear of
the Cathedral had not been sealed, and several of the undead had escaped around
the cordon and spread along Auldale Street and Cathedral Street. Several of our Order volunteered to journey
to the gate and lock it shut, while the rest of us, and the Hammerites,
retreated to deal with the undead.
The fighting had reached Market Street when the volunteers
returned with the news that the Cloister gate had been sealed. Such was the speed of the undeads’ advance
that we were unable to satisfactorily evacuate our own Grotto. It was sealed to the best of our ability,
and we soon received word that the Baron had summoned an emergency meeting of
the City Council, and had decided to create a vast wall that would keep the
undead contained. We initially thought
that this tactic was not ideal, as it would leave the entire area infested, but
we then realised that this would deter those of nefarious intent, and so used
our influence to facilitate the process.
Construction of the Barricades began at Rubin Street, De Perrin Street
and Cathedral Street, as the we and the Hammers struggled to hold back the
undead. As we were gradually pushed
back we took our leave of the Hammerites, not wanting to be seen by the general
populace. They continued the struggle
alone until they reached the Barricades, where they were aided by the City
Guard and worked with them to protect the workers as the wall rose higher. Finally it was done, and all there escaped
to the other side of the wall, leaving the undead contained in what has become
known as the ‘Closed Area’.
In the wake of the “time of peril”, as the episode came to be
known by the Hammerites, the Order changed dramatically. All were traumatised by the loss of a
building that was a symbol of Hammerite prestige, power and magnificence, and
the Order had also lost many of its most radical and youngest adherents. Naturally, the reactionaries found their
opposition to the radical theories vindicated, and those radicals surviving
found themselves hounded out of the Order or denounced as heretics for failing
to believe in the veracity of the Builder’s Plan – that plan being the ascetic
and isolated lifestyle the reactionaries advocated. Many of these “doubters” were actually killed and buried in the
foundations of the new Temple the Order built later to act as the new focus for
their worship.
The “time of peril” also deprived the Hammerites of many of the
symbols of their faith. Although the
First Hammer and St. Yora’s skull were retrieved, the Order had lost many of
its holy relics and remains of previous saints. They needed a new symbol of their power to act as an icon, and an
objective to inject meaning into their doctrine, which had been badly shaken by
the events. In addition, we needed
placate them, because those who were aware of what we had done objected to us
holding the ‘keys’ to their own Cathedral, however dangerous the evil
inside. In the end a compromise and
solution was reached, and we gave the Order the Talisman of Air to guard and
watch over. This task gave them a new
aim and purpose, and they pledged their honour to act as a shield over it.
The conflict also brought an unexpected benefit. Many people in the City were shocked by
their encounter with the undead, and Hammerite propaganda had made out,
truthfully, that the undead were the minions of the Trickster. Their faith in the secular world-view
seriously disturbed, large numbers of citizens flocked to join the Hammers,
whose Order was inundated by those wishing to become initiates. From a marginalized faith on the brink of
collapse the Order was reinvigorated by the great influx, and the reactionaries
that had gained power insisted on the strict, conservative lifestyle that the
radicals had opposed.
With their increased numbers, the Hammerites began to regain
influence. Patrols and watchmen were
sent out to deal with crime, and many more temples were built to better spread
the word of the Master Builder.
Criminals were treated with increased severity, and Cragscleft soon
became the most heavily used gaol in the City.
Often the City’s secular laws were overridden, as the acquitted were
subjected to the more severe Hammerite trial and punishment.
Yet, even within this new, strict, conservative order there were
still the radicals. With the fall of
those who had advocated the use of nature came the rise of those who advocated
the use of machinery. The most vocal of
the radicals was Brother Karras, who endeavoured continuously throughout his
days in the Order for the Hammerites to make use of their technological
expertise and improve upon the machines the Builder had given them. Only in this way, Karras thought, could the
Order be saved and gain true power. The
great initiation of lay folk into the Order meant that his ideas found support
among those who had experience of the secular world, and found the Hammerite
doctrine over-strict and antiquated.
The reactionary Hammerites countered this threatening upsurge by
increasing the severity and strictness of doctrine, and a gradual rejection of
secular accruements that had made the Order attractive or bearable to some in
the past.
As the fortunes of the Order rose, so those of the City fell. The loss of the Cathedral had greatly
affected morale, and the induction of so many into the Order of the Hammer meant
that business suffered greatly, as both supply and demand fell. Hearing of the events, many merchant
shipping companies and captains refused to dock at the City, and trade fell
sharply, resulting in a substantial drop in revenues that limited the potential
courses of action for the Baron.
The situation worsened when the Baron died and his son succeeded
him. The new Baron, as traumatised as
others by the “time of peril”, became increasingly close to the Order of the
Hammer, and many thought he would actually join it. In the event, the Baron took just as bad a decision. Yielding to Hammerite demands, he turned
over all things mechanical to the Order – pumps, drains, power stations,
workshops and businesses. The Order had
long felt aggrieved that such technologies were in the hands of heretics and
peasants, and also realised that once they again had a monopoly on technology
their position would be greatly ameliorated.
This episode proved disastrous for the City, as the production and
trading of its main export of machinery fell.
The Hammerite insistence on absolute control of all things mechanical
meant that the technology was used for the benefit of the Order rather than any
other, and the immense control the Hammers now had over the City meant that they
were able to demand other concessions from the devout, pious and rather weak
Baron. By controlling the export of
machinery, they controlled the amount of money that flowed from it into the
Baron’s purse, and thus exerted a powerful influence over him.
Hammerite law was imposed on the City, overriding secular
law. The city courts still operated, as
did the City Guard, but no one protested when the Hammerites arrested and
imprisoned without trial those it had felt were breaking the Master Builder’s
laws. Restrictions on activities, dress
and behaviour were enforced where possible, as the Hammerites tried to control
the radical faction within the Order that was increasingly supported by
dissatisfied Hammers.
The situation led to massive popular discontent, as well as
economic recession and a criminal renaissance.
In a vicious circle, people became more and more fractious as the
Hammerites resorted to increasingly draconian measures to control the outbreak. As the Order descended into progressively stricter
orthodoxy to control both internal and external foes, more and more people left
the Order to make their own way in the secular world. The memory of the conflict at the Barricades was fast fading, and
disillusionment among new initiates meant that Hammerites soon began to bemoan
the lack of novices. In order to
maintain favour with the Hammerites, now the dominant power in the City, many
nobles maintained resident Hammer priests in their homes, but the orthodoxy of
the Order drove many to alternative forms of religion.
The present Baron’s invasion of Blackbrook was intended to revive
his popularity, but also had the effect of partially unseating the Order’s
domination of the City. Using the war
as an excuse, he levied higher taxes on imports and exports, and on the people,
to pay for the fighting. Although most
of the money was for personal enrichment, the additional money meant that he
was no longer subject to the Order of the Hammer’s whim, for they could no
longer control how much money reached him.
Such is the situation now. The Order of the Hammer is still powerful,
and we have ensured that it is so in order that it might resist the Trickster
if Garrett cannot. The glyphs are
cryptic, and there is controversy amongst us over how the Woodsie Lord is to be
defeated. In any case, the decline of
the Hammers will follow soon after.
They have preserved the Balance thus far, and will continue to preserve
it, but they are not fated to shift the Balance and bring about the Metal
Age. Yet they have existed seemingly
forever – they exist now, and it seems probable that they will continue to
exist.
Keeper Hostibus
Thesis, ‘History of the Hammerites’. Keeper
Library; Order of the Hammer, History of - 4956