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[3/3]
You and the rest of the procession have halted two streets over from the southernmost gate, they say that this is where the Place of Pain once stood. It is a tailor now, or rather a collection of small stalls with a tailorshop being the largest permanent building. No sign of the structure that stood here before it remains, no sign that the calculated suffering on untold thousands inflicted here has seeped into the soil and corrupted the place around it. In fact the tailor manning the front stall is quite friendly and approachable, , albeit confused, and the man does appear to be enquiring politely in broken Cantǒnian whether any of the many gathered pilgrims present are intending to place an order.
Four guards scourged Cain with whip and iron, ripping the skin and scouring the flesh to the bone as he was walked bound and chained to his supposed execution on the lines of crosses that used to loom morbidly over the embankment of the grand Cathagi bay. The City watched in silence then, hope fading with each fall of the lash, but you of the faithful are not silent now.
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>“Cain in the wastes. Cain in the streets. Cain at the gates themselves.” Stripping to the waist with some of the more fervent followers, you join the head of the procession scourging yourself with bands of bundled cloth. Your skin will not thank you for it, you’ll not be able to lie on your back for days. But this is how you can honour Cain’s sacrifice, his determination to prove his did not fear the very wort the master’s could throw at him. [Haughty]
>“Cain to the ends of the world.” You remain clothed in the humble pilgrim robes, holding your arms crossed up towards the sky in solidarity with the other pilgrims. It is tiring indeed to hold them so the entire walk of the way there, even if you hadn’t walked non-stop nearly all day. While the Reclaimant Sect and other sorts of the Cainite aligned followers may partake in ritual self-flagellation, you personally have always resonated more with the stoic teachings of Adam. Cain is to be respected, not emulated. His may be a remarkable tale, but it is also a cautionary one. [Hearty]
>“Cain! Cain! Cain!” Rawhide whip, strung with broken glass and crushed seashells edges. Civilized Cantǒnian folk view the practice as barbaric, even for a pilgrim to have others in turn inflict the wicked nine-tails on your bare skin is considered zealous in the extreme. You will bleed, and possibly scar if you remain conscious enough to reach the end. But Cain welcomed this worst of public Cathagi punishment before his supposed execution, and so shall you. [Idealist]
