Post by salvis on Jun 25, 2011 18:03:26 GMT -5
It had been a long time since he had properly been inside the capital, and he had spent much of the time here in the Ivory Tower, getting used to his powers once again. It seemed much of that power was out of reach for now, but the Lo’kh’ron was nothing if not patient. Once he had done what needed to be done, focus was moved elsewhere. It was time to deal with matters of faith, something nearer to him than it had ever been before he’d left the Old Lands. One might have called him a dark mage, or an assassin those days, but rarely did any think of him as a priest. Now that he had returned, he had become more a priest than any of the things he had used to be. So today he would be seen wandering the streets not in his normal outfit, but that of a priest of Lo’cander, which most assuredly meant the Kh’ronen around him would step clear. He knew his god was not the most beloved, so he figured that would be the case. Though maybe that pitted and rusted red-metal scythe he was carrying would do it. Or maybe the timepieces made them back away in respect? It was probably all three to be honest. Though honestly, he would have been far happier if people had come and said hello, he wasn’t nearly as dark as his faith might be considered.
He was headed to the Basilica, there were matters of faith to attend to, and this would be the place to do it. At least for now. At one time he had made a temple back in the Old Lands, but that had been lost to time and neglect. Not that it was considered a complete loss, but it would have to be restored, and moved. But that would be another time. For today he just wished to take a moment to pray to the gods, and in particular his own, and perhaps see the influence of those who came from the other realms on this place of worship. Upon passing the threshold of the building he would pause a moment, bowing his head slightly and murmuring a prayer under his breath. This was not to Lo’cander, but to Kh’ronos and Lileander, as well as Xeladra. Two of them the whole of the Kh’ronen worshiped, for they represented the birth of the majority of their people, as well as being the High Gods. However, for the Lo’kh’ron, Xeladra was the grandmother deity and she would be worshipped as such. After saying this prayer he would make his way into the Basilica, watching as the priests made their way around the rooms. Most would merely give him a nod, even as they subconsciously moved away. But all of them knew he was an Oratio at least, so he always get at least respect, instead of fear.
The Lo’kh’ron would make prayers under his breath as he passed the various places of worship to the gods he recognized. He made his way to the spot reserved for the worship of Lo’cander, which was not necessarily the most visited place in the building. In fact, an outsider would probably note that very few ever went to this spot, and indeed, many others seemed to avoid it in general. That suited him fine, and he knew that Lo’cander would accept this fact as the reality of his station in the Pantheon, and indeed, probably found it not only fitting, but somewhat humorous. People always feared death, even though it was nothing more than the end of natural order. Not only that, but the wiser among the Kh’ronen, much like the higher ranking priests in the Basilica, knew that he also played an important role in sheltered souls on their way to Refreshing. But the young, or the token faithful would likely not think of such things, and neither Sal’vis nor Lo’cander would find offense in such. The scythe he carried with him, which had gotten him more than a few wary looks, was propped up against the altar and he’d smirk a bit to himself at the thought of a few younger priests getting up in arms about it. However, the older priests would recognize it as the weapon of Lo’cander, or at least, a copy of it, and would find it quite a normal thing to do.
Kneeling down in front of the altar the Lo’kh’ron would gather his thoughts. Many things had happened in the past few weeks, and he had neglected to pass them on through prayer. Not that it was strictly necessary, mind you, being what he was. But it would at least give him a moment’s peace from his thoughts.
“My lord, my journey from the Mists has been successful, in at least restoring my sanity. I thank your hand in helping me find my way to the Emerald, for she helped me as I am certain you knew she would. In her kindness she has even granted me my tools once more, and for that I am more grateful to her than she most likely knows. My thoughts have become whole again, and the temporal ravages that came from separation from my timepiece as well as too many years in the mists were corrected. I even managed to find my little bird again. While I know that last bit might not be as important overall as the others, to me it brings great happiness. I can only think it was your will I wander that way as well.”
He would pause here and chuckled softly. He truly wasn’t certain which of those bits were truly Lo’cander’s will. But to be honest, he tended to think of his God in a benevolent light. Yes, he was capable of truly evil things, but he was also capable of great kindness and guardianship. The Lo’kh’ron merely assumed that like all Gods he wished the best for his servants, as long as they were loyal.
“I have visited the temple in the Old Lands. The one I constructed on the path to becoming an Avatar, and where you granted me your scythe. It is in decay, and would need much work to put back right. But for now I shall merely work on plans to bring it here, home, where it belongs. Assuming I can get a bit of land granted for the purpose. Perhaps I shall appeal to Emmarie’s kindness once more. As I work in this land I can feel the power I left behind returning to me. Though from a wholly different source. Soon I hope to once more be powerful enough to be a true avatar, while leaving the seal intact in the Mists.”
“On the note of that seal, it seems I have made a folly. Tampered with something that had far greater power than I would have thought. I seems I have gained a boon of my faith, but also a great folly. While I am protected from death, if only once, it seems the agents of our foe now have wind of me. The ancient beast knows where I am, and will now send those who would destroy me to break the seal. It is nothing I can not handle however, especially with the allies I have now. I will send them back to you for judgment and it will be weaker for their loss.”
The lo’kh’ron would stand then and picked up the scythe from off the wall. This place was safe from those that hunted him, he knew that. But he could not hide here. His duties to both the realm and his God demanded otherwise. Giving a nod to the priests as he made his way out, he would make his way back towards the keep. He didn’t go quickly this time though. Something was already trailing him, and he would not trouble Emmarie with its coming.
He was headed to the Basilica, there were matters of faith to attend to, and this would be the place to do it. At least for now. At one time he had made a temple back in the Old Lands, but that had been lost to time and neglect. Not that it was considered a complete loss, but it would have to be restored, and moved. But that would be another time. For today he just wished to take a moment to pray to the gods, and in particular his own, and perhaps see the influence of those who came from the other realms on this place of worship. Upon passing the threshold of the building he would pause a moment, bowing his head slightly and murmuring a prayer under his breath. This was not to Lo’cander, but to Kh’ronos and Lileander, as well as Xeladra. Two of them the whole of the Kh’ronen worshiped, for they represented the birth of the majority of their people, as well as being the High Gods. However, for the Lo’kh’ron, Xeladra was the grandmother deity and she would be worshipped as such. After saying this prayer he would make his way into the Basilica, watching as the priests made their way around the rooms. Most would merely give him a nod, even as they subconsciously moved away. But all of them knew he was an Oratio at least, so he always get at least respect, instead of fear.
The Lo’kh’ron would make prayers under his breath as he passed the various places of worship to the gods he recognized. He made his way to the spot reserved for the worship of Lo’cander, which was not necessarily the most visited place in the building. In fact, an outsider would probably note that very few ever went to this spot, and indeed, many others seemed to avoid it in general. That suited him fine, and he knew that Lo’cander would accept this fact as the reality of his station in the Pantheon, and indeed, probably found it not only fitting, but somewhat humorous. People always feared death, even though it was nothing more than the end of natural order. Not only that, but the wiser among the Kh’ronen, much like the higher ranking priests in the Basilica, knew that he also played an important role in sheltered souls on their way to Refreshing. But the young, or the token faithful would likely not think of such things, and neither Sal’vis nor Lo’cander would find offense in such. The scythe he carried with him, which had gotten him more than a few wary looks, was propped up against the altar and he’d smirk a bit to himself at the thought of a few younger priests getting up in arms about it. However, the older priests would recognize it as the weapon of Lo’cander, or at least, a copy of it, and would find it quite a normal thing to do.
Kneeling down in front of the altar the Lo’kh’ron would gather his thoughts. Many things had happened in the past few weeks, and he had neglected to pass them on through prayer. Not that it was strictly necessary, mind you, being what he was. But it would at least give him a moment’s peace from his thoughts.
“My lord, my journey from the Mists has been successful, in at least restoring my sanity. I thank your hand in helping me find my way to the Emerald, for she helped me as I am certain you knew she would. In her kindness she has even granted me my tools once more, and for that I am more grateful to her than she most likely knows. My thoughts have become whole again, and the temporal ravages that came from separation from my timepiece as well as too many years in the mists were corrected. I even managed to find my little bird again. While I know that last bit might not be as important overall as the others, to me it brings great happiness. I can only think it was your will I wander that way as well.”
He would pause here and chuckled softly. He truly wasn’t certain which of those bits were truly Lo’cander’s will. But to be honest, he tended to think of his God in a benevolent light. Yes, he was capable of truly evil things, but he was also capable of great kindness and guardianship. The Lo’kh’ron merely assumed that like all Gods he wished the best for his servants, as long as they were loyal.
“I have visited the temple in the Old Lands. The one I constructed on the path to becoming an Avatar, and where you granted me your scythe. It is in decay, and would need much work to put back right. But for now I shall merely work on plans to bring it here, home, where it belongs. Assuming I can get a bit of land granted for the purpose. Perhaps I shall appeal to Emmarie’s kindness once more. As I work in this land I can feel the power I left behind returning to me. Though from a wholly different source. Soon I hope to once more be powerful enough to be a true avatar, while leaving the seal intact in the Mists.”
“On the note of that seal, it seems I have made a folly. Tampered with something that had far greater power than I would have thought. I seems I have gained a boon of my faith, but also a great folly. While I am protected from death, if only once, it seems the agents of our foe now have wind of me. The ancient beast knows where I am, and will now send those who would destroy me to break the seal. It is nothing I can not handle however, especially with the allies I have now. I will send them back to you for judgment and it will be weaker for their loss.”
The lo’kh’ron would stand then and picked up the scythe from off the wall. This place was safe from those that hunted him, he knew that. But he could not hide here. His duties to both the realm and his God demanded otherwise. Giving a nod to the priests as he made his way out, he would make his way back towards the keep. He didn’t go quickly this time though. Something was already trailing him, and he would not trouble Emmarie with its coming.