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Acolyte Luluria gives a Sermon.

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A city floating in the center of a lake, Ravok is a place of dark beauty, romance and culture. Behind it all though is the presence of Rhysol, God of Evil and Betrayal. The city is controlled by The Black Sun, a religious organization devoted to Rhysol. [Lore]

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Postby Loken on November 9th, 2017, 1:47 pm

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Fall 42nd, 517 A.V.

Afternoon

A Temple to Chaos.

A congregation of the disease migrated from one place to another; so that they could spread their nonsense elsewhere. After all, that was the human prerogative that permeated through Ravok. Animals reproduced so that their species would survive; and they ceded to the population control of their environment, the measures that the environment managed to bring into effect to keep each species' numbers balanced. And Rhysol kept the city’s weather pristine, kept his followers healthy...

Loken looked up at the sky as he sat in the back of a Ravosala, heading towards the temple to witness with his own eyes, the woman known as Acolyte Luluria. as the small boat made its way under the immaculate arches that led to the interior docks leading into the temple, Loken was a man marked by order who found it beautiful that Ravok operated like well oiled machine. And yet, Loken felt unclean upon noticing that fact.

However, like all things, order and chaos had their own time and place. He was dressed in his usual all black attire, with his black leather armor worn over it. He kept his armor hidden as he wore his black coat over it. Loken had come to start wearing his Cherry skull cap everywhere, since it offered him some amount of respect. So to blend in with the population, he wore it.

Today, he had no weapons on him other than the shuriken in the pouch on his belt; his citizenship papers were also located in that same pouch. The guardsman felt safe that he would not be confronted with combat while within the Temple. As he tried to enter the temple, he gave a soft nod to a member of the Ebonstryfe who was on guard next to one of the entrances.

Upon entering the temple, Loken paused to take in the sights within the
the central worship chamber. He could not help but be impressed by the palatial designs within it, knowing that master architects must have spend endless days trying to perfect the interior. Sure, most of the nature of its beauty was lost on him given that he did not care about it, but he knew good art when he saw it.

However, what cause Loken to pause where he stood happened to be the gothic mural spread across the domed ceiling. The Ano Cultist had seen many symbolic depictions of Rhysol during his stay in Ravok, but it was the first time he'd truly seen a truly detailed depiction of The Defiler. His focus returned to the sermon that was about to begin as people started to filter in around him, each taking seats in preparation to worship.

Loken touched the chest piece of his armor, symbolically touching the silver holy symbol Scales of Gnora that he wore under it. That was when his eyes fell upon the large black mass of... stone? Or maybe crystal? The jutted out from the center of the temple where a woman stood at what seemed to be an alter made of that same material. He had arrived early enough to take a seat at a pew that was relatively close to the front.

As he sat waiting for the sermon to begin, he felt more like a person waiting for a play at a theater to begin. He looked around to see who had taken seats in the pews around him. Seated at the opposite end of his pew was a member of the n Ebonstryfe, or rather a young man baring the insignia. That was the only real person of note that he had seen before the voice of a woman called out from the alter.

His gaze drifted over to the woman who called herself Acolyte Luluria. She began to run through the typical exuberant religious frivolity that showered Rhysol in praise. As the crowds within the temple all began to have their passions ignited by her words, all Loken could focus on was the fact that the woman's belly seemed to be conspicuous plump... as if she were pregnant.

As Acolyte Luluria's tone began to grow more animated, he started to listen to what she was saying.

"The heathens of the grasslands have spoken your name, Lord Rhysol!
With all my heart, I taught them it, they know it, but they speak it with blasphemous bile! They ignore the truth! They ignore it instead to make love to horses as they barely cling to survival out in the wild like barbarians!"


Loken sat there for the longest time, trying to keep his personal views from forcing him to outright ignore the obvious propaganda. He needed to know how the city viewed the god of evil. As he turned his head, that was when he noticed someone attending the sermon who he recognized...

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Rumors of Zeal and Condemnation.

Postby Maya Lark on November 12th, 2017, 3:07 am

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Maya got up and began to get ready for her day. Her father was taking the woman and her elder brother Xander to the temple. They were going to see Acolyte Luluria since her return from the Sea of Grass. The dark haired woman was still very confused as to how there was a “sea” of grass. Something about the name and image in her head did not connect well. Shaking her head, the girl got done with her bath and started to get dressed. Once finished, she did her hair with a smile and moved on to the putting on her make up. Sitting down at the table that held a mirror, the woman took out her makeup checking how much was still there. The woman grabbed her powder first and began to make her face give off a soft glow. Her powder was not but a half shade lighter than her normal dark skin tone. Turning her face to each side, the woman made sure that the dusting was even across her face before putting it away.

“Hurry up!” Xander's voice called from his room while putting on his shirt.

“Shut it!” Maya growled.

The girl turned back around and began to work on putting her eye shadow on. Using her pinky, the woman faded the colors together giving her a beautiful smokey eye look. Picking up the wet rag, she cleaned her hand while grabbing her lipstick next. Not wanting to take away from her natural beauty, the woman used a soft pink on her lips. It helped to make them look more full while also giving her a softer appearance. Using her brush, the girl put a few loose curls in her hair. Happy with her appearance, the woman grabbed her boots and put them on. Standing up she grabbed her bag and journal before heading downstairs. Maya rolled her eyes when Xander snarked about her taking forever to get ready.

“Oh whatever. Just because you have no one to dress up for is not my problem,” the Lark snarked back at him.

Dimitri quickly shut the pair down while cutting his eyes at them from beside Jiya. The dark haired woman went quiet and grabbed a piece of fruit waiting on their elder to say the word. The two siblings were always at each other's throats most of the time trying to one up each other. Popping her neck, the girl glared some at her brother planning to show off at the event. Standing up right the two young adults followed their father out and into a ravosala. Maya sat to where she would be the first to exit; she did not trust her brother to actually help her out of push the boat away from the landing. The elder of the three made no comment about his elder two children acting the way they were.

“You two know what to do when we arrive right?” he asked looking and forth between them.

“Yes, father,” Xander said looking at him.

“We are to survey the crowd, find anyone suspicious, then figure out why,” Maya stated holding her head slightly higher.

“Good let us begin then,” Dimitri said while paying their fare and helping Maya out first.

The woman took lead and walked into the temple first. Her eyes instantly began to scan the crowd looking for a good place to sit. The group needed to be able to see everyone in the building at all times. Pointing one spot out, Dimitri nodded and praised her as the group took their seats. Maya sat towards the aisle as Xander sat on the opposite side of their father. As the woman began her speech about her trip, the dark haired looked around spotting two people off the bat that stunned her. The more stunning was the cherry she had worked with several days prior.

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Rumors of Zeal and Condemnation.

Postby Rohka on November 17th, 2017, 1:55 am

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Hushed whispers surrounded the young sibyl and the Divinist while they sat in silence, waiting for the grand entrance and sermon of the woman they’d both admired. Everyone in Ravok must have heard by now - and if they hadn’t, they surely weren’t true followers of their lord and saviour. Rohka had known since the beginning of the season thanks to a devoutly social ravosalawoman, and she’d partly foretold that today would be the day when they would finally get to see it for themselves. She’d gotten a lovely pair of silver dice as a gift of sorts—a compensation for a shady deal, surely—and she managed to put her new toy to good use. A few tries and dozens of prayers were necessary to connect the dice to her psychic interests, but judging by the excitement and the crowd this evening, she was sure she’d gotten it right this time.

Lelia glanced back to assess the gathering. “It will be today,” she paused, closing her eyes, taking a few deep breaths. She’d taken the time to assess individual chavis while they waited. Light broke off and twisted through her sight as she walked through the refracting patterns of memories and thoughts combined. With another breath, the Divinist relaxed into open gaiety—she’d found the knowledge she was looking for.

“Yes, a few have caught glimpses of her earlier, they’re expecting her. You did it, Roh. Finally. It took a few days, and it could have been chance, but I can feel it. I really feel like it worked. We’ll test it again very soon.”

They’d been sitting side-by-side at the front of pews. Rohka turned to look up at the Konti, whose smiling eyes reflected her own utter euphoria over the praise, earned through the work and training she’d put into developing her new form of creating predictions. It was a simple set-up. The dice were paired with her cards to provide foretelling numbers. Specifically, to foretell days. After drawing a neat, large circle on a piece of parchment, Roh had rolled the pair twice. If a die fell out of the circle, its result would count as a 0. If the pair fell within the circle, she would add the result together until she got a single digit.

If on the first roll, a die fell out of the circle, and on the second roll, the dice showed a five and a four, the sibyl would claim that her fortune would come true on the 9th day of the season. Rohka had gone to the Temple on the 9th; it was first time that she’d tried out her new technique with Lelia's toys and it had only been a couple days after she’d heard the rumour… the fortune was a miss. After two bells of prayers she’d gone home with a burning resolve to try again. The next time she rolled two ones on the first roll and a die fell out of the circle on the second, so she’d predicted the 20th. It was surely a joke by the gods, since that was the day that she broke her arm, but the sibyl had gone to the Temple nonetheless, and this time she took Lelia with her. She was wrong. They’d sat and prayer together, with the Divinist reassuring her that this craft would take patience and persistence.

Rolling a three and a one would result in ‘4’. Rolling a six and a five would add up to eleven, but the sibyl would then add the two 1s of the eleven to get ‘2’. If her two rolls were in this order, she would declare that her foretelling would occur on the 42nd. This was what had happened only a couple nights ago, on a whim, when Roh was at the end of her rope with Lelia’s training. The sibyl was using her new silver set that she was gifted the day after her arm broke. She'd been rolling them and carrying them with her everywhere since that day, praying with them, wishing with them, loving them with all her heart. She cried in agony as Leth’s light poured through the window’s of the Mystic Eye—none of her fortunes that day were making much sense at all. A sudden spark of inspiration made her think of the ravosalawoman, and then of her God, and before she knew it, her hands had blazed through the air, snatching a card and flashing the silver dice onto her circle.

Lelia sat and watched her chavi that day. The swirl of light beamed bright blue, shifting in shades of indigo then swelling into a ball of black brilliance. It shook the Konti out from the Chavena and she’d blinked before erupting into what could only be described as dazed laughter. It was a beautiful moment suspended in the present moment of time, a moment that Lelia had no idea how to explain. When she asked the sibyl what she’d done, Roh explained the question she’d asked:

She wanted to know when, if ever, she would finally hear the invocations of Acolyte Luluria.

_____

“…and so it shall be known, that on this day, our Lord has given both you and I the power to believe in our true selves. We are all One in his eyes, equals in his love for us, and we share every blessing that He deems is ours by right. But only ours, Ravok! For it is WE who truly deserve Rhysol’s love! WE are the ones who honour his word and abide by his laws. The laws that keep us both safe and free! Free from pain, free from suffering, free from the wretched fates of barbaric creatures who live outside His domain!”

Rohka listened in rapt attention. She listened to the ardent acolyte, the pristine woman who’d been blessed by the love of their God not once, but twice. Luluria was a treasure in every sense of the word; her beauty alone would have been so precious and valuable to their city, but her added devotion, her spirit of commitment, and her words of wisdom were all meant to be kept far more carefully than what she had just gone through. For such a woman to travel outside their city into the hands of heathens was a terrifying thought, all on its own. Luluria had done it anyways - instructed by her One True Love.

The sibyl hadn’t failed to notice the state of the acolyte’s form. She hadn’t let the curiosity cross her mind until Luluria began to address it with such earnest desire and conviction.

“…and it shall also be known, on this holy forty second day of fall, that through your faith and your fortitude, through the affection you’ve blessed onto me over the years that I’ve come to spread the word of our Father, He has finally showered me with the gift of his gratitude. A Gift that I will cherish and nurture into one that will serve you, my Love!”

Nervous whispers began to spread like wildfire throughout the chamber. Rohka looked around her to see faces beginning to understand, eyes in shock, jaws falling in awe. It was then that she'd finally noticed two people she would recognize. An old friend sat at the edge of a pew in the next aisle and a certain Cherry was right at the front. She tried to catch at least one of their gazes in the midst of Luluria's reveal.

“Rhysol! It is with honour that I declare you the Father of my child! A SON to follow in your glory! Take him into your arms, Rhysol! His birth shall be yours to claim and yours to mold unto your purpose for our people, our city, and our world!”

This was far from what the sibyl expected.
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Rumors of Zeal and Condemnation.

Postby Rohka on November 22nd, 2017, 12:12 am

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OOCPosting again to bring the curse into play! :D Enjoy~

Rohka had placed her pack on her left, for easy access. Obviously the esteemed acolyte was telling the truth; she couldn’t possibly be lying about their God, could she? The woman was beautiful and faithful and had clearly been in His service for a long time… perhaps it was true. Perhaps He really did choose Luluria to be the bearer of His child.

Something about it didn’t seem right. Yes, the red-headed woman had brought more slaves to the city, and yes, she’d spread the word of their saviour to the horse heathens out in the grass, but was that really all Rhysol required? Were such acts what impressed Him the most? It didn’t seem enough. She didn’t seem enough.

Rhysol deserved more.

The convoluted stretch of thoughts were written across the sybil’s face as she reached into her pack, swirling around the bottom of her sea of cards—the cards that she’d unsurprisingly forgotten to put back into their little leather pouch. She briefly closed her eyes and muttered a quick prayer as she picked one to read. One that would answer her simple question: What do I need to know about Luluria’s child? In her hand she saw the ten of cups.

Lelia looked down at the card she held and closed her eyes with a simple nod of approval. The sibyl began to whisper, “Can you—“

“No,” the Konti hushed her as she stared directly at the acolyte. She kept her voice low and barely perceptible, gently pressing her palm on top of Roh’s free hand. “I can’t. I won’t. Stop now.”

The warning sent a chill down Rohka’s spine. It was then that she caught Luluria looking straight at her, the acolyte’s deep blue eyes boring into her soul. The sibyl uncomfortably shifted her gaze, trying to forget the shot of fear and malice that she caught in those eyes, praying that she’d only imagined it. All she wanted was the best for her city and her God—there was no reason for the acolyte to look at her that way, especially when she’d only wanted to confirm the truth. Perhaps even the sign of any doubt was taken as a sin, perhaps she’d been stupid to attempt her craft in these halls. She shouldn’t have looked. A part of her wished she hadn’t. The card was of a happy family, showing blessings and transcendental completion, which generally means good news and usually is a sign of celebration. In this case, her intuition flashed caution—a ‘too-good-to-be-true’ message. An ending based on mythic ideas of love.

Such an instinct, paired with Lelia’s command and Luluria’s dreadful eyes made the sibyl start to rock gently back on forth in her seat, staring on the inky marble ground to help calm herself down. She was done with this sermon. Rohka couldn’t listen to the rest. She shut everything out while she focused on her breathing—inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. She began to count at the end of every exhale—inhale, exhale, one; inhale, exhale, two; inhale, exhale, three. Gradually, her concentration on the breath as her object strengthened, filling her mind with a slight sense of ease, a sign that the meditative practice was somewhat working.

A tap on her shoulder broke her out of her spell. Rohka hissed at the touch as her hand went up to swat the cause of her sudden, burning pain.

“Shyke, Lelia! That hurt!” The Divinist tilted her head in confusion but said nothing. They’d both gotten up and started to walk amongst the crowd, shuffling away to the side to talk near an alcove while the people could pass by, unobstructed. A young man so focused on getting out through the doors suddenly bumped into her, and didn’t stop to acknowledge it, walking faster instead. “Ow! Watch it!” She hissed again, rubbing her arm. The sensation felt the same as when Lelia had tapped her earlier—as if the spot had been on fire, instead of just being smacked. “Lelia,” Roh frowned, looking around. She caught a glimpse of Luluria walking up the long staircase. The acolyte turned and scanned the crowd. A look of worry crossed her face as she looked at the doorway before her gaze almost seemed to land on Roh; was she smirking?

“Rohka, are you—“
“Sssaaggh! Stop!” The sibyl jerked her arm out from under Lelia’s grip. “Please,” there were tears starting to well up in her eyes. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it in the Temple anymore, okay? Just tell me to stop, what’s the point of punishing me like this?” The Konti was shaking her head, eyes wide, unsure of what was going on. It took a tick for Roh to realize that Lelia had no idea what she was talking about. “Oh,” she reached out to touch the Divinist’s arm to apologize yet again. “No, look, I don’t—agh!!” The moment she made contact, her fingertips burned. She touched Lelia’s arm again. She held in the urge to react, squeezing her eyes shut, feeling the odd, searing pain. She touched the arm again, gasping this time…

It was the beginnings of an unfortunate, cursed addiction.

18-day curse granted by Prophet via PM “whenever someone touches you skin to skin, you will feel pain. On your limbs, it will feel like an intense burn. If it's on your torso, it will feel like a sharp stab relative to the size of the contact (fingertip = stiletto, Palm = broad sword). If it's your head that is touched, it will seem add if you've been suffocated relative to the size and duration of contact (larger and longer touches could even cause you pass out). This will last for eighteen days”
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