[Location] The Temple of Viratas

by **Poison** on August 13th, 2011, 6:38 pm

The Temple of Viratas

The Temple of Viratas is one of the oldest buildings in Kalinor. Shortly after the Valterrian, after the Symenestra that had fled the jungles of Falyndar and found themselves inevitably changed by the maelstrom of magic had arrived in the cave, they had already built a place to honor their god. Few of the current residents of Kalinor know why the Symenestra of old began to worship Viratas, whether they had already prayed to him when they had been living in the trees or whether they had hoped that he would purify their blood again and make them stronger so that their women wouldn’t die.

In the beginning the temple had been small, a strange, slightly deformed structure that had hung from the ceiling. The Symenestra had been more focused on their immediate survival than creating architectural masterpieces then. The temple had mostly consisted of the center room with the blood pool, a pool so big that several Symenestra could take a bath in it at the same time, if they were the kind of people that liked to bathe in blood. It is said that the pool had been blessed by Viratas himself, that each Symenestra that had lived in Kalinor since its founding had donated a few drops of blood and that the blood never grew old or disappeared. The pool is framed with dark stone that is engraved with prayers to Viratas.

The walls that surround the pool are not made of stone, but of a fabric that is just thin enough that you can see the parts of the temple behind it, vague shapes, countless dead bodies. The blood pool is surrounded by a labyrinth of countless hallways and chambers, filled with dead upon dead, wrapped in precious silk and treated with special mixtures to keep the decay and the smell of death at bay. Only Symenestra rest in the temple. Surrogates don’t receive a proper burial. Their dead bodies are thrown on the cavern floor where they decay or are eaten by whatever vicious creatures lurk down there.

All Symenestra Webs regularly go to the temple to visit their dead. Sometimes they will also wander through the endless hallways, meditating. On some the presence of the dead, the awareness that they would not be forgotten, has a calming effect.

Even now, centuries after Kalinor’s founding, new chambers and hallways are added to the temple to make room for the newly deceased, but now the temple possesses a beauty that it hasn’t possessed before, an eerie kind of beauty like so many things in Kalinor.

NPC:

Secret :

by **Dovinya** on March 9th, 2012, 7:35 pm

2nd of Spring, 512 AV

With anticipation weighing his every breath, he at last crossed the last portion of the strand road and stepped into the temple, feeling the weight of presence as he crossed the threshold. As he entered he couldn't help but look at the crimson pool that dominated it's center, and he felt drawn to stand before it as he walked deeper into the temple. Walls of silk enveloped the place from all sides, tunneling endlessly further with the bodies of his kin. It was only right that they where here to maintain a silent vigil of this most sacred of places. Forever to be in the presence of their god, it was a end to be coveted.

As he came before the pool that served as the altar to his god, he dropped to his knees gracefully and allowed his head to bow deeply, his longish hair falling forward to cover his eyes. He often abased himself before the altar as he found it easier to talk to his god from such a position. Heritage was everything, and without viratas he would be nothing besides a hollow shell wandering the world for base pleasures like one of the humanoid beasts that called the surface their home. The god gave him purpose, and for that he was eternally thankful.

His quick prayer ended in silence and looking up, he cast his gaze around seeking his true purpose for coming to the place. He wished to take a more active role in serving his god, and he meant to speak with the priest of the temple to arrange for such ends, though of where the high priest took up residence was a mystery to him. A barren room greeted him as he cast his gaze around till his eyes settled on the lithe form of a young woman standing silent at attention, and rising to his feet Dovinya moved towards her in hopes she was not simply a visitor but actually worked here. His chest swelled briefly as he drew in a deep breath, stilling his mind in the process.

"Do you know if the one over this place could be troubled for a meeting. I would have words if possible" Dovinya asked softly.

by **Poison** on March 12th, 2012, 2:37 pm

It was quiet in the Temple of Viratas. Even though people visited it throughout the day and the night, hardly any sound could be heard. The temple was not a place to meet to each other and talk to each other. The Symenestra of Kalinor visited it to honor their god, to meditate or pay their respects to the dead.

The outer parts of the temple where the dead lay were cool, but it became warmer, the closer one got to the blood pool, the heart of the temple. It never became hot though. The blood in the pool was still the same deep red it had been when it had left the veins of those that had sacrificed it. It was still warm, even though it had been there for decades, for centuries.

The young woman smiled as Dovinya approached her. She was just out of her teens, a slender, pretty thing with snow white skin, black hair and eyes of liquid gold. She was dressed in a simple silken robe, and her feet were bare.

„I will let him know that you wish to speak to him, Dovinya of the …“ She paused briefly as she tried to remember to which Web he belonged. In Kalinor all people were familiar with each other to some extent.

“Aconite”, she decided. “Dovinya of the Aconite Web.”

„Viratas – and the priest that serves him - would appreciate a sacrifice while you wait …“, she continued. Her voice was gentle, musical. Dovinya could see that a bandage was wrapped aorund her left hand. Apparently she had made a sacrifice not so long ago.

„… so that your blood becomes one with the blood of those that came here before you. You will find all the tools that you need for the sacrifice on a table near the pool.“

by **Dovinya** on March 14th, 2012, 7:38 am

"Of course and thank you for your time" Dovinya replied, smiling pleasantly before dipping into a low, courteous bow. He rose as she departed, and turned about to face the sacred pool where the blood of his kin mixed into something pure and holy. Even as his eyes alit on the tools resting on the hardwood wood table near the pool, his steps came in a slow reverent fashion as he absorbed every moment it took to bring him closer to a communion of sorts with his god. His heart pounded fast in his chest, each breath taking more of an effort to draw within himself, and his mind raced at the thought of his blood being intimately apart of the most holy of places.

Mouth steeled closed with dedication now as he stood now before the table, he slowly grabbed ahold of the ornate knife resting there before stepping around to the side of the table where he could better access the blood pool. On his lips were reverent prayer's to his god, ending at last with 'please accept this sacrifice, and this most intimate of joining of my blood with that of those of my kin of the present and the time before. His hushed words where soft in the quiet stillness of the temple and cut of when he drew his bottom lip into his mouth to chew on it for distraction as he drew the blade slowly across his palm, watching in awe as his blood first beaded on his pale skin before dropping to join with the pool in the form of crimson rain. It was a beautiful sight to be had for the stoic symenestra.

by **Poison** on March 16th, 2012, 5:12 am

It was only a few chimes later that the young woman returned. A male Symenestra was following her. Daratur of the Violet Web was in his late fourties, long past the age where Symenestra were fertile. His hair was deep black and fell to his shoulders while his eyes were red, red like the blood he worshipped. He was not handsome in the traditional sense, but there was something about him. Unlike the girl he was dressed in crimson silk, not in white, and Dovinya could clearly see the red chain on his right upper arm. He had been marked three times by his god, a great honor.

The young woman nodded at Dovinya, and then she bowed respectfully to the priest, before she left the two men to talk.

The priest nodded approvingly as he noticed that Dovinya had made a sacrifice, and then he proceeded to study the younger man. There was something piercing about his gaze, as if he looked right into him rather than just at him. Finally he nodded, apparently content with what he had seen.

„Dovinya“, he spoke. „Sarya told me that you wish to meet with me. I always welcome the opportunity to talk to a man that bears his mark. Are you here to seek guidance in religious matters or do you perhaps wish to intensify your relationship with our god?“ He looked at Dovinya questioningly.

by **Dovinya** on March 18th, 2012, 7:25 pm

As the last drops of blood trickled from the wound in his flesh, he could hear the soft steps of the priest, and his eyes gazing ahead, they alit appreciatively on the priest and his attendant. Compelled to offer the man due difference, especially after noting the his thrice marked arm, Dovinya dipped into a low bow, not rising until the man had spoken. His heart pounded in his chest at the man's arrival, and his mouth dried out prompting him to swallow. It was not often he found himself nervous, yet in front of the priest he felt exposed to scrutiny and plagued with the feeling that his faith in viratas was lacking.

When the priest spoke after studying him, he rose, gulping down his initial fear to steel himself to speak. He needed to remain strong to remain bearing the favor of his god, and to show this priest he had the willingness to grow stronger in the faith. "You honor me with your presence priest" Dovinya said, pausing to take a breath. "I find myself within these halls seeking to strengthen my relationship with our god as you have said" He ended his sentence with another bow that he stood up from after a chime, his golden eyes lowered in observance of the man's position.

by **Poison** on March 23rd, 2012, 5:33 am

There was a hint of a smile on Daratur’s Web as Dovinya told him that he honored him with his presence. „And you honor me with yours“, he replied. The tone of his voice was serious and exceptionally polite. He was not making a joke. „As I said, I welcome the opportunity to talk to somebody who has received our lord’s mark. Do not be nervous. Here, in Viratas‘ temple, we are all the same. We are all descended from the same ancestors whose blood still fills the pool.“ He gestured towards the red liquid behind them.

„You wish to serve him then?“ he asked as Dovinya confirmed that he did indeed seek to strengthen his relationship with their god. „Do you know what the duties of an acolyte entail?“ There was a short pause as he looked at Dovinya’s arm, the one that had been marked. „Would you be willing to tell me how you attracted our lord Viratas‘ attention? I have to admit, I am not familiar with the details of your story.“

As he said this, a Symenestra, one of the many that regularly came here to make a sacrifice and visit their ancestors, entered the central chamber. As he saw that the priest was there, apparently discussing something important, the man was about to turn around, but Daratur gestured for him to stay. The man walked to the opposite side of the pool where he knelt down and prayed quietly.

by **Dovinya** on March 27th, 2012, 4:15 am

He found his spirit strangely lifted by the man's words, his nervousness giving way to a deep feeling of calm, and respectfully he took a step forward, easing towards the table. His sacrifice complete, the pain in his hand now demanded a different kind of attention. In response his pale fingers nimbly lifted a bandage from it's wooden surface, balling it up in his palm with a single movement before pressing against his other hand, stemming the flow of blood for the moment while he listened intently to the priests enlightening words.

"I would indeed like to serve, yes though I'm afraid I must admit I am ignorant to what the duties of an Acolyte are" Dovinya spoke truthfully, his unbroken stare betraying his curiosity. His god was everything to him, but there were still some things about service to him that he did not yet know, just as he hadn't had the time to memorize the Viratassa quite yet. It represented things to work on, and a way to make his strengthen his faith, something the priest offered him by entertaining him now. Even so, the priests next words froze the blood in his veins as panic briefly surged through him, tracing his cheeks slightly scarlet as embarrassment burned hot within him. Several moments passed before shook the panic away by remembering the priest's words, and taking in a deep breath as he attempted to keep any emotion from touching influencing his voice.

"I was accompanying some friends to meet with a trader from the surface, but when I went to speak with the human, he showed me his true nature when he tried to attack my father with a dagger. I took the the blade for my father, and paid the man back for his efforts before I blacked out. When I woke up, I met viratas, and he blessed me with his mark"

by **Poison** on March 28th, 2012, 5:40 pm

„As an acolyte you will provide assistance to me”, Daratur spoke. “Unlike Sarya who is still unmarked, you will stand by my side during rituals. You will assist me when I make a sacrifice and provide guidance to those that enter the temple. As unfortunate as it is, I cannnot take care of the spiritual needs of everybody at the same time. Your duty will also be to alert me when the use of my gnosis is necessary. There are cirumstances that require the presence of somebody that bears more than one mark.”

As Dovinya told the story of how he had been marked, Daratur fell silent and listened attentively. Once he had ended, the priest nodded. “You protected your own blood then”, he said. “You were risking your life for your father. I still remember the day I received my first mark as if it were yesterday. There was a woman of mixed blood, a dra. They were attempting to use her, torturing her, in a way they would not dare to torture a precious surrogate. All blood is precious, Dovinya, no matter what certain other people might say, and even a dra’s blood should not be spilled without a reason. Keep that in mind when you want to serve me.”

There was a distant look in the priest’s eyes as he recalled what it had been like, the terrible scene and then the appearance of a god. Despite the fact that he had met Viratas several times since then he had never forgotten the first time.

“Come with me”, he said after a moment. “If you are to serve here, you need to be more familiar with the temple than a normal Symenestra.”

by **Dovinya** on March 31st, 2012, 5:51 pm

"Of course" Dovinya replied softly, carefully taking in the man's direction. He couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive of the duties the priest outlined, all of which he knew he would have to be lead through till he found his feet properly under himself. It reminded him a bit of his early days in weaving school, how nervous and afraid he had been. There was no fear here though, for he was to be in the service of his god, the highest calling he could ask for. The presence of his god in this place staved off such fears, and soothed his nerves, though still a slight uneasiness remained, a remnant from fearing past mistakes coming to repeat themselves.

"All blood is sacred" He echoed, his eyes filled with admiration for the priest. It left little to question how he had come to be marked so many times for the courage he showed in first attracting the gods attention. "I pray I could be as courageous as you" Dovinya added, offering a slight bow in respect after he had spoken. He felt smaller in comparison, for he had only stood up to a human, but it was not a negative feeling, but one that fueled his desires to model himself a better man so he could better serve his god like the priest did. To know a mentor so blessed, and courageous was a blessed thing in and of itself he knew.

Silently, he followed the priest, ever attentive for any direction or words of wisdom the priest might speak.