The Orthodoxy~
Peder Griffith
Jorendon
Tremoon, 4401
Peder rested his hand on the gilded lion’s paw. The day would never come he felt comfortable in the ostentatious chair, but at least he’d learned not to fidget as if it were scalding him.
Bishop Gregor was reading yet another letter of recommendation for a pastor being considered for the Blessed Fellowship. Old Bishop Tucker of Iverach had reached that blessed age when he could do as he damned well pleased. On the rare days he still recalled he was not actually a barn owl, it pleased him to retire to his country home and leave the petty politics and pious posturing to the rest of them. It was a wise choice, spending his golden years away from tall buildings with open windows.
Tucker had recommended Pastor Bendaron Bonner of Iverspo
