We are the Savelites. Worshippers of the great ghost Savelfuser and all that he holds true to.

Our church is fierce and will not be broken by slighted hand. Come to dissuade us, burn our churches and our bodies, the great ghost rose from the ashes to lead us to victory against any who oppose us, and we will rise as he demands us to, his voice echoing in every movement we make. He is always here, in our spirits, in our souls.

We are protectors, we are saviours, we are berserking warriors. Monks of love, of blood and of pain. Kneel before the beauty of the root and shed your blood to it’s cause if you care to pain it.

We are the kindness of needed support. The fire burning bright that passion brings. The thorn-ed rose so natural and caring, so spiteful and vengeful.

We are the Savelites, care for our church with reverence, let us keep that which we hold true to, pray to, and embrace, or cower in terror.

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