[LOCKED LOCATION] The Temple of the Blessed Hands

[Fox]

~The Temple~

The Temple Of Blessed Hands was the only fortified place in the forest-city of Natura…While the rest of the lanes, buildings, gardens and houses opened their arms to the trees like a young maiden would her lover, one focal point always drew the eye.

In the city was a small hill… it had not been a major feature for the first few thousand years of Natura’s life-span, but several centuries ago a small Clan of Dwarves had been allowed to enter, and they had taken it upon themselves to build a Basilica upon that hill.

The Elvish architects of Natura, however, had seen that the Basilica had been beautiful… or at least to the best of their abilities, for there was nothing like a Dwarf for glancing at a set of drawings and then discarding them in disgust because “Airy Fairy Castles” simply didn’t stand the test of time. However, a compromise had definitely been reached, for all of the arguments and debates, and the Temple of Blessed Hands was both functional in its capacity as a fortress and beautiful as a place of worship to the Goodly Divinities.

Not to be out-done though… the Dwarves had added several store-houses and armouries as well as training grounds behind the Temple Cathedral proper, simply on the basis that if you’ve got a fort, someone will, sooner or later, lay siege to it.

With the coming of the Humans, however, a Library had been added to the collection of buildings, as well as the final construction of the Starlight Forge, and the Clergy had taken up residence in the Basilica, to protect the repositories of Knowledge, translated from Elvish scribes… Lore not found anywhere else in Aelyria. The Clergy of Healers, Paladins and Monks held sway here now… those Orders born from the Sphere of Thaumaturgy… the holiest pursuit of Magic that there was.

As a result… the Temple of Blessed Hands was wreathed in the melodic chanting of the Monks, and a million whispering prayers echoed within the marble halls… carrying blessings and absolutions, and a message to all;

Here, The Goodly Deities Listen.

~The Windows~

The windows were stained glass.

That was the fist thing that was noticeable when stepping into this place… the windows were an intricate pattern of coloured glass, staining the light from the sun as it passed through the vaulted, domed, ceiling. And the second thing to notice was how the dome was segmented into fourteen sections… each, with a Deity, or a season, depicted, the dome’s windows separated by a long, graceful arc of the purest white marble. Thus, when the sun shone upon each window, it was illuminated separately, to fall upon the pristine white floor with a surprising clarity… even on cloudy days and at nighttime, the windows glowed their pictures onto the floor, the cause of some ancient enchantment.

There was Ioannes, with his three faces… each one with the elvish symbol of Law, Order and Justice superimposed upon his forehead, standing upon his traditional sweeping cloudscape, glowing lightning snaking about his forearms to be trapped, writhing, in his hardened fists.

On the next pane, was Aslan, the God of Honour. He bore a shield, with the Elvish symbols of Nobility and Virtue embossed upon it… his face was serene and his pose was most certainly that of a consummate gentleman. An impression of chivalry was gained from gazing upon his handsome features.

And then, flanking her son on his right even as his father flanked his left, holding their child between them, was Diana the Patron Goddess, her great white wings fully extended, her pale eyes wise and benevolent. She wore upon her fine brow the Aethercrown, and in her left hand she wielded the Sword of Ioannes. The next pane was that of a tree, a mighty Oak, in the coldness of winter, standing strong and implacable against the storm… representing the strength of the Three before it, the unquestioning self-sacrifice of body and spirit.

The next pane was of Maj and Phedos… both Archons with sweeping snowy wings, Maj backlit by a celestial sun, and Phedos backlit by a celestial moon and a starry sky. Maj the General held his customary sword, wreathed in blue flames that speared into the golden sun-drenched sky behind him. Phedos, for his part, had his hand extended into a map of stars created by the night sky behind him… obviously a metaphor for the Strategist, although his other hand held that of a tiny Elven child, showing his part as Father of all Elves.

And the pane after Maj and Phedos in this fresco was that of Srennius, small, childlike, peaceful, biased from the top, the Deity’s face upturned and arms outstretched as if the whimsical little divinity wanted to be picked up. True to Srennius’ basic nature, the childish face was neither male nor female, and the main feature were the huge dark eyes and the scales that were draped artfully over one slim wrist… symbolising this Deity’s fascination for events that hung in the balance. The pane after these previous two was that of a Cherry tree, laden with delicate pink blooms, representing the fragility and the hidden beauty of the souls of the three spirits in these two panes.

And to the right of that… was Orod, the God of Logic and Mathematics, his fragile old frame garbed in a robe, his thin hands folded, his wise old face vague and rather abstracted, staring off into some immeasurable distance as if he were contemplating a problem of infinite complexity. Next to him, a mischievous grin on her impish little face, was the Planetar of Time, Kalendryas, bearing an Hourglass that she had stolen from the distracted Orod, her face drawn up in a laugh. Beneath each, were the elvish symbols for Logic and Time.

The next section bore the likeness of Kaimela, the Planetar of Dreams. All about her was a veritable fever-dream of images… some nightmarish and horrific to behold, others sweetly gentle to the eye, memories of happy days and imaginations of good times yet to come. After her, in the next pane, was Rak, the Planetar of Power… his likeness was that of a man walking upon fire, the flames licking up about his legs and robes, and behind him was a crossroads… symbolic of all the choices that he believed that all individuals with free will must make. The seasonal section of stained glass after them was that of a Aspen in midsummer… slender, graceful, bursting with vitality and bending with the wind… always active, never resting.

And this pane, after the summer tree, was of Materna… she sat, regally, upon a simple, rough wooden chair in a kitchen in front of a well-swept fireplace, and with a plethora of gifts about her feet and in her lap… it was quite clear, however, that the gifts were not for the Planetar of Hearth and Home, but from her. There were cakes, and sweets, and sweetmeats, and many assortments of other food-based treats, both sweet and savoury… and, strangely, mixed amongst them without any consideration for value were luxurious gemmed boxes, crystal goblets, and finely wrought golden necklaces.

The last was a Goddess… and most definitely Carmelya, daughter of Materna. She was enthroned upon a seat made of living wood, coiled with jasmine vines, blushing tiny tea-roses, and in her hair was a glorious coronet of flowers. There was a flat basket of fruit in her lap, and she was bejewelled with the gems of a million dewdrops. Carmelya, the Goddess of Fertility…The last seasonal tree was a Maple, the colours brilliant to the eye, its sap sweet, backed by a world overflowing with milk and honey and fruit, picked out in autumn colours, symbol of the Fertility and the Gifts of the last two Divine beings.

Once the attention slid away from the breathtaking stained glass dome and it’s fresco of the Pantheon, it noted the building itself… the halls were large and tall, all constructed of snowy white marble, the lines simple and yet at the same time graceful… here, all the goodly Gods and all of the Planetars were worshipped and paid their due in a tribute of hymns that resonated throughout the Temple of the Blessed Hands.

For all the goodly and benevolent hands of the Pantheon were represented here, and it seemed that the discerning student of either Thaumaturgy or of the Holy Paladins would be quite at home here in this place.

~The Factions~ A small note, tacked up onto a marble-bound board fronted by a glass pane, said simply in an archaic script; To become a Naturan Paladin… you must have at least; Initiate – Apprentice Thaumaturgy. Intermediate – Advanced in Swordsmanship or Maceman. You have the option to train up to Journeyman in Thaumaturgy, and all the way up to Mastery in Swordsmanship or Maceman The Naturan Paladins are a rather dedicated force. Since the Temple of Blessed Hands has become a Pantheon-wide centre of worship, a Paladin and the Thaumaturgists (Summoners and Healers both) can choose whatever goodly god they wish to worship and be able to pray and fast to that Deity without any problems. To become a true Naturan Paladin you must forge your own Mace or Sword at the Starlight Forge… these are reminiscent of the Soul Blades, and they must be Consecrated, much in the same way a church is consecrated, to a goodly God. These Magical blades are infused with the very soul of the Paladin, and quite powerful. This sword also their reward. To become a Naturan Monk… you must have at least; Initiate Thaumaturgy or above Intermediate Unarmed Combat or above You have the option to train up to Journeyman in Thaumaturgy, and all the way up to Mastery in Unarmed Combat. The Naturan Monks are a peaceful lot, living in their own private Abbey within the Temple of Blessed Hands, but unlike many other orders, the Monks of Natura are an outgoing lot, dedicated to enjoying life, and to learning the True Way… not Mind over Matter, but more a case of Mind over Myself. It isn’t easy to become a Monk… there is years of meditation, prayer and the learning of special techniques… such as tuning into the Monk’s life-force in their own body, and utilising that in ways that no Mage can even begin to dream of. A well-trained Naturan Monk, for example, can punch through solid rock with their fists, walk barefoot happily through blizzards, and survive by extracting energy from the air around them, negating the need to eat. They hold the symbol of the Silver Benediction… a hand raised in blessing, two fingers extended to show their faithfulness and serenity. Those Monks that we currently have are trained in Thaumaturgy equally, and have then augmented their learnings with the unarmed combats… this insistence on using their bodies as deadly weapons currently has the Paladins baffled, but the respect that the two Holy Battle-Orders have for each other is immeasurable. That, and the fact that the Monks are rumoured to be experimenting with the brewing of some fine Trappist Ales seems to have eased their merging with the Temple of Blessed Hands… and incidentally earning the order the nickname of “The Trappists”. Those of spirit pure wishing to pursue Thaumaturgy within these halls to become a Healer are most welcome also... choose ye a God to worship, Paladin or Healer ye be, Paladins, take up thy holy swords, Healers, thou shalt learn the medicinal arts of plants. Will ye, Nil ye and rest thy soul within the hands of the Gods and Planetars.

OOC: Originally written by Niobe, tweaked by Nimh and tiny tweaks by me!

This location is permanently locked. If you have reason to post at this location please begin a new thread with [Temple] in front of the title. Please note that you must first post in the Moderation Needs thread as this is a moderated location