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Kallista walked the temple with her friend, Gygaea, a woman she has admired for many years. For a long, Kallista believed she was unworthy as High Priestess and pushed for Gygaea to have the position, but like the others she turned her down. Gygaea was the first to tell Kallista that it was her fate to lead the sisters, and to derail fate would be a bad omen as well as a disrespect to their Lady. Like Gygaea, Kallista was a star among the sisters, she has adopted all the roles and excelled in them all, and her faith in Artemis was unparalleled. It was a not discussion for Kallista to become High Priestess, but it took some convincing for herself. Kallista would confide in Gygaea of her uncertainties and the peace ceremony was a like thick fog in her mind, and it was too thick for her to navigate on her own.
The peace ceremony meant a lot of things, but to the sisters of the Cypress sisterhood it meant that their doors would be open to women and men alike. The women were not of Kallista’s concerns, but it was the men were to attend – many of them being soldiers. Attitudes among the sisters shared a consensus of mistrust and pure disagreement. Kallista completely understood everyone’s desire to deny the temple as being the source of the festivities, but she also saw it as an opportunity for everyone. Gygaea also shared Kallista’s beliefs, and like Kallista she also grew up in a regime of the sisterhood that was more… Misandristic. Many of the priestesses were against it all, but from conversations had with Gygaea it was the High Priestess’s ultimate decision.
The dark-haired beauty walked a slow pace with her friend as she conversed, “We are fortunate that today’s events have started less than expected… The sisters also seem to be enjoying themselves, but of course I am sure it is only an impersonation of enjoyment.” Gygaea smiled at Kallista’s words as she shared, “You know them well. If Artemis has taught us anything, then it would be how to survive in a man’s world.” Kallista nodded her head in agreement as she looked about, “Indeed so,” Kallista said with light amusement. Kallista and Gygaea walked past a marbled pillar into the main hall of the temple, before finding the exit. In the main hall, Kallista could easily hear the commotion on the outside, and that alone made her want to remain on the inside. Generally, the temple was quiet, so to say at the least, Kallista was not used to the change of events.
Within the main hall, Kallista seen a woman enter the temple with a wrapped offering as she approached the dais that sat in front of the matured Cypress tree. Kallista and Gygaea watched from the side of the hall as the woman gave honor to their goddess. A small smile etched on Kallista’s expression as she awaited the woman to finish her prayers. Kallista turned to Gygaea, “It seems our Lady has found a follower, Gygaea. Allow me.” At that moment, Kallista left her friend’s side to gracefully approach that of the temple’s guest. Kallista eyed the ivory based urn, the golden depiction of their Lady was well crafted, and she was sure that it would please the goddess. Once the woman was done, Kallista spoke up with a polite smile, “I am sure our Lady is pleased by your offering,” the High Priestess continued, “Please accept my gratitude in honor of the Lady Artemis, and a welcome as the High Priestess of Her temple."
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Kallista walked the temple with her friend, Gygaea, a woman she has admired for many years. For a long, Kallista believed she was unworthy as High Priestess and pushed for Gygaea to have the position, but like the others she turned her down. Gygaea was the first to tell Kallista that it was her fate to lead the sisters, and to derail fate would be a bad omen as well as a disrespect to their Lady. Like Gygaea, Kallista was a star among the sisters, she has adopted all the roles and excelled in them all, and her faith in Artemis was unparalleled. It was a not discussion for Kallista to become High Priestess, but it took some convincing for herself. Kallista would confide in Gygaea of her uncertainties and the peace ceremony was a like thick fog in her mind, and it was too thick for her to navigate on her own.
The peace ceremony meant a lot of things, but to the sisters of the Cypress sisterhood it meant that their doors would be open to women and men alike. The women were not of Kallista’s concerns, but it was the men were to attend – many of them being soldiers. Attitudes among the sisters shared a consensus of mistrust and pure disagreement. Kallista completely understood everyone’s desire to deny the temple as being the source of the festivities, but she also saw it as an opportunity for everyone. Gygaea also shared Kallista’s beliefs, and like Kallista she also grew up in a regime of the sisterhood that was more… Misandristic. Many of the priestesses were against it all, but from conversations had with Gygaea it was the High Priestess’s ultimate decision.
The dark-haired beauty walked a slow pace with her friend as she conversed, “We are fortunate that today’s events have started less than expected… The sisters also seem to be enjoying themselves, but of course I am sure it is only an impersonation of enjoyment.” Gygaea smiled at Kallista’s words as she shared, “You know them well. If Artemis has taught us anything, then it would be how to survive in a man’s world.” Kallista nodded her head in agreement as she looked about, “Indeed so,” Kallista said with light amusement. Kallista and Gygaea walked past a marbled pillar into the main hall of the temple, before finding the exit. In the main hall, Kallista could easily hear the commotion on the outside, and that alone made her want to remain on the inside. Generally, the temple was quiet, so to say at the least, Kallista was not used to the change of events.
Within the main hall, Kallista seen a woman enter the temple with a wrapped offering as she approached the dais that sat in front of the matured Cypress tree. Kallista and Gygaea watched from the side of the hall as the woman gave honor to their goddess. A small smile etched on Kallista’s expression as she awaited the woman to finish her prayers. Kallista turned to Gygaea, “It seems our Lady has found a follower, Gygaea. Allow me.” At that moment, Kallista left her friend’s side to gracefully approach that of the temple’s guest. Kallista eyed the ivory based urn, the golden depiction of their Lady was well crafted, and she was sure that it would please the goddess. Once the woman was done, Kallista spoke up with a polite smile, “I am sure our Lady is pleased by your offering,” the High Priestess continued, “Please accept my gratitude in honor of the Lady Artemis, and a welcome as the High Priestess of Her temple."
Kallista walked the temple with her friend, Gygaea, a woman she has admired for many years. For a long, Kallista believed she was unworthy as High Priestess and pushed for Gygaea to have the position, but like the others she turned her down. Gygaea was the first to tell Kallista that it was her fate to lead the sisters, and to derail fate would be a bad omen as well as a disrespect to their Lady. Like Gygaea, Kallista was a star among the sisters, she has adopted all the roles and excelled in them all, and her faith in Artemis was unparalleled. It was a not discussion for Kallista to become High Priestess, but it took some convincing for herself. Kallista would confide in Gygaea of her uncertainties and the peace ceremony was a like thick fog in her mind, and it was too thick for her to navigate on her own.
The peace ceremony meant a lot of things, but to the sisters of the Cypress sisterhood it meant that their doors would be open to women and men alike. The women were not of Kallista’s concerns, but it was the men were to attend – many of them being soldiers. Attitudes among the sisters shared a consensus of mistrust and pure disagreement. Kallista completely understood everyone’s desire to deny the temple as being the source of the festivities, but she also saw it as an opportunity for everyone. Gygaea also shared Kallista’s beliefs, and like Kallista she also grew up in a regime of the sisterhood that was more… Misandristic. Many of the priestesses were against it all, but from conversations had with Gygaea it was the High Priestess’s ultimate decision.
The dark-haired beauty walked a slow pace with her friend as she conversed, “We are fortunate that today’s events have started less than expected… The sisters also seem to be enjoying themselves, but of course I am sure it is only an impersonation of enjoyment.” Gygaea smiled at Kallista’s words as she shared, “You know them well. If Artemis has taught us anything, then it would be how to survive in a man’s world.” Kallista nodded her head in agreement as she looked about, “Indeed so,” Kallista said with light amusement. Kallista and Gygaea walked past a marbled pillar into the main hall of the temple, before finding the exit. In the main hall, Kallista could easily hear the commotion on the outside, and that alone made her want to remain on the inside. Generally, the temple was quiet, so to say at the least, Kallista was not used to the change of events.
Within the main hall, Kallista seen a woman enter the temple with a wrapped offering as she approached the dais that sat in front of the matured Cypress tree. Kallista and Gygaea watched from the side of the hall as the woman gave honor to their goddess. A small smile etched on Kallista’s expression as she awaited the woman to finish her prayers. Kallista turned to Gygaea, “It seems our Lady has found a follower, Gygaea. Allow me.” At that moment, Kallista left her friend’s side to gracefully approach that of the temple’s guest. Kallista eyed the ivory based urn, the golden depiction of their Lady was well crafted, and she was sure that it would please the goddess. Once the woman was done, Kallista spoke up with a polite smile, “I am sure our Lady is pleased by your offering,” the High Priestess continued, “Please accept my gratitude in honor of the Lady Artemis, and a welcome as the High Priestess of Her temple."
A decade of peace. A grand celebration. A sight to behold. All such things ricocheted around the pretty head of the petite Athenian, Rene of Nikolaos, but first and foremost, she disembarked from her coach and headed straight for the resplendent temple of Artemis that presided over the festivities. Home to the Cypress Sisterhood, the temple towered over the entirety of the festival and all of those gathered, like the goddess herself, ever with a watchful eye over her congregation. Rene paused briefly at the steps of the great temple, admiring the flawless symmetry of the Ionic columns with their fluted pillars topped with proud volutes. Her handmaid and guard remaining behind, Rene ascended the steps gracefully and entered the temple. The voluminous interior was every bit as magnificent as one hoped it would be, with a great cypress tree rooted at the dais.
Rene never wavered in her duty to prayer, providing tribute to the gods by way of art pieces, handmade intricately etched candles or paper flowers, fresh fruit or baked goods still warm from the foúrnos. The gods bestowed gifts, and they could revoke them just as easily, and such a notion was never lost on the young lady. While she frequented the temple of Aphrodite, her patroness, the most, Rene always took care to offer prayers and give alms to the other gods, chiefly Zeus, Hera, Apollo and Athena. And this day, she would do the same for Artemis and her devout servants, as they graciously hosted the intra-kingdom anniversary.
Her exquisite face a mix of awe and reverence, Rene walked the length of the temple’s interior and approached the ancient cypress growing at the altar, cradling her offering in her arms, wrapped carefully in blanched white linen. At the steps of the dais, she unveiled the urn she’d made herself, hours spent at the pottery wheel, then attaching handles at the top, and even more hours meticulously painting it. Placing it at the foot of the grandiose tree, she took time to say her prayers, showering the goddess with gratitude and asking for continued blessings throughout the entirety of the celebration. When she’d finished, she moved to depart, and had made it a third of the way back across the temple when she was approached by a beautiful woman with chocolate locks, ice blue eyes, and in stately dress that easily identified her as a member of the sisterhood.
“I am sure our Lady is pleased by your offering. Please accept my gratitude in honor of the Lady Artemis, and a welcome as the High Priestess of Her temple.”
Lost in her own silent revelry, Rene was caught off guard, surprise flashing across her angelic features summarily before a gracious smile appeared. Still largely shy around strangers, she absently tucked an errant tresse of cornsilk blonde behind an ear and curtsied to the priestess. “Your Grace honors me on behalf of The Goddess,” she replied. “I am but a humble servant of the gods. Rene of Nikolaos, if it pleases Her Grace.” Rene straightened and folded her slender hands in front of her. “I apologize if I have interrupted your prayers. I did not see anyone when I entered.”
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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A decade of peace. A grand celebration. A sight to behold. All such things ricocheted around the pretty head of the petite Athenian, Rene of Nikolaos, but first and foremost, she disembarked from her coach and headed straight for the resplendent temple of Artemis that presided over the festivities. Home to the Cypress Sisterhood, the temple towered over the entirety of the festival and all of those gathered, like the goddess herself, ever with a watchful eye over her congregation. Rene paused briefly at the steps of the great temple, admiring the flawless symmetry of the Ionic columns with their fluted pillars topped with proud volutes. Her handmaid and guard remaining behind, Rene ascended the steps gracefully and entered the temple. The voluminous interior was every bit as magnificent as one hoped it would be, with a great cypress tree rooted at the dais.
Rene never wavered in her duty to prayer, providing tribute to the gods by way of art pieces, handmade intricately etched candles or paper flowers, fresh fruit or baked goods still warm from the foúrnos. The gods bestowed gifts, and they could revoke them just as easily, and such a notion was never lost on the young lady. While she frequented the temple of Aphrodite, her patroness, the most, Rene always took care to offer prayers and give alms to the other gods, chiefly Zeus, Hera, Apollo and Athena. And this day, she would do the same for Artemis and her devout servants, as they graciously hosted the intra-kingdom anniversary.
Her exquisite face a mix of awe and reverence, Rene walked the length of the temple’s interior and approached the ancient cypress growing at the altar, cradling her offering in her arms, wrapped carefully in blanched white linen. At the steps of the dais, she unveiled the urn she’d made herself, hours spent at the pottery wheel, then attaching handles at the top, and even more hours meticulously painting it. Placing it at the foot of the grandiose tree, she took time to say her prayers, showering the goddess with gratitude and asking for continued blessings throughout the entirety of the celebration. When she’d finished, she moved to depart, and had made it a third of the way back across the temple when she was approached by a beautiful woman with chocolate locks, ice blue eyes, and in stately dress that easily identified her as a member of the sisterhood.
“I am sure our Lady is pleased by your offering. Please accept my gratitude in honor of the Lady Artemis, and a welcome as the High Priestess of Her temple.”
Lost in her own silent revelry, Rene was caught off guard, surprise flashing across her angelic features summarily before a gracious smile appeared. Still largely shy around strangers, she absently tucked an errant tresse of cornsilk blonde behind an ear and curtsied to the priestess. “Your Grace honors me on behalf of The Goddess,” she replied. “I am but a humble servant of the gods. Rene of Nikolaos, if it pleases Her Grace.” Rene straightened and folded her slender hands in front of her. “I apologize if I have interrupted your prayers. I did not see anyone when I entered.”
A decade of peace. A grand celebration. A sight to behold. All such things ricocheted around the pretty head of the petite Athenian, Rene of Nikolaos, but first and foremost, she disembarked from her coach and headed straight for the resplendent temple of Artemis that presided over the festivities. Home to the Cypress Sisterhood, the temple towered over the entirety of the festival and all of those gathered, like the goddess herself, ever with a watchful eye over her congregation. Rene paused briefly at the steps of the great temple, admiring the flawless symmetry of the Ionic columns with their fluted pillars topped with proud volutes. Her handmaid and guard remaining behind, Rene ascended the steps gracefully and entered the temple. The voluminous interior was every bit as magnificent as one hoped it would be, with a great cypress tree rooted at the dais.
Rene never wavered in her duty to prayer, providing tribute to the gods by way of art pieces, handmade intricately etched candles or paper flowers, fresh fruit or baked goods still warm from the foúrnos. The gods bestowed gifts, and they could revoke them just as easily, and such a notion was never lost on the young lady. While she frequented the temple of Aphrodite, her patroness, the most, Rene always took care to offer prayers and give alms to the other gods, chiefly Zeus, Hera, Apollo and Athena. And this day, she would do the same for Artemis and her devout servants, as they graciously hosted the intra-kingdom anniversary.
Her exquisite face a mix of awe and reverence, Rene walked the length of the temple’s interior and approached the ancient cypress growing at the altar, cradling her offering in her arms, wrapped carefully in blanched white linen. At the steps of the dais, she unveiled the urn she’d made herself, hours spent at the pottery wheel, then attaching handles at the top, and even more hours meticulously painting it. Placing it at the foot of the grandiose tree, she took time to say her prayers, showering the goddess with gratitude and asking for continued blessings throughout the entirety of the celebration. When she’d finished, she moved to depart, and had made it a third of the way back across the temple when she was approached by a beautiful woman with chocolate locks, ice blue eyes, and in stately dress that easily identified her as a member of the sisterhood.
“I am sure our Lady is pleased by your offering. Please accept my gratitude in honor of the Lady Artemis, and a welcome as the High Priestess of Her temple.”
Lost in her own silent revelry, Rene was caught off guard, surprise flashing across her angelic features summarily before a gracious smile appeared. Still largely shy around strangers, she absently tucked an errant tresse of cornsilk blonde behind an ear and curtsied to the priestess. “Your Grace honors me on behalf of The Goddess,” she replied. “I am but a humble servant of the gods. Rene of Nikolaos, if it pleases Her Grace.” Rene straightened and folded her slender hands in front of her. “I apologize if I have interrupted your prayers. I did not see anyone when I entered.”
The sisterhood that was founded in Illytia turned into a generational upbringing of women that has spawned strong, humbled servants of their goddess. The Cypress Sisterhood is reknowned for their practice and faith in Artemis, and considered to be the largest priesthood that belonged to the Chaste goddess. When Kallista was brought into the white temple, she was much different from herself today, and she believes fully that the sisterhood was the roots of her growth. Before the temple, Kallista lived a life similar to other girls in poorer provinces, and there was an expectation that never seemed to fit. Society was too restrictive and purposeful towards the treatment of women, and it took tragedy for her to break free. The ghosts of her story still haunts her thoughts, but there was a certain peace found within the temple that healed all of her wounds – all except one. Men will forever be the bane of her existence, despite not being completely misandristic, Kallista has made it a point that men are beneath her. With that in mind, not all women are sisters, but all women are protected by Artemis in her house. The Cypress Sisters have taken in women since the dawn of their creation, and it became their mission to be the avengers and rescuers of womanhood.
Kallista eyed the young girl with a gentle gaze and she spoke with warmness, “There is no need for an apology, Lady Rene. I simply wished to share my gratitude for such a grand offering – beautiful to say the least,” Kallista said as she waved a hand in the direction of the urn, before she returned to a more poised position. The High Priestess continued, “We are all servants to the gods, therefore it is not I that should be pleased. Kallista turned towards the tall Cypress Tree in admiration as she engaged the Lady of House Nikolaos, “You see this tree here?” The High Priestess said as she turned to Rene, “This Cypress tree was planted during the early days of the sisterhood and marks our birth. The late High Priestess Artemisia chose the Cypress tree because it also marked the birth of our great goddess, Artemis.”
A small smile appeared on Kallista’s face as she marveled at the tall, mature tree as it stood unwavering in the main hall. Prayers are always held in front of the goddess’s most sacred tree, because it’s believed to be the source or beacon of her presence in the temple. Kallista always felt close to the goddess whenever she was near the greened tree, and it pleased her to know others have found peace in her embrace.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The sisterhood that was founded in Illytia turned into a generational upbringing of women that has spawned strong, humbled servants of their goddess. The Cypress Sisterhood is reknowned for their practice and faith in Artemis, and considered to be the largest priesthood that belonged to the Chaste goddess. When Kallista was brought into the white temple, she was much different from herself today, and she believes fully that the sisterhood was the roots of her growth. Before the temple, Kallista lived a life similar to other girls in poorer provinces, and there was an expectation that never seemed to fit. Society was too restrictive and purposeful towards the treatment of women, and it took tragedy for her to break free. The ghosts of her story still haunts her thoughts, but there was a certain peace found within the temple that healed all of her wounds – all except one. Men will forever be the bane of her existence, despite not being completely misandristic, Kallista has made it a point that men are beneath her. With that in mind, not all women are sisters, but all women are protected by Artemis in her house. The Cypress Sisters have taken in women since the dawn of their creation, and it became their mission to be the avengers and rescuers of womanhood.
Kallista eyed the young girl with a gentle gaze and she spoke with warmness, “There is no need for an apology, Lady Rene. I simply wished to share my gratitude for such a grand offering – beautiful to say the least,” Kallista said as she waved a hand in the direction of the urn, before she returned to a more poised position. The High Priestess continued, “We are all servants to the gods, therefore it is not I that should be pleased. Kallista turned towards the tall Cypress Tree in admiration as she engaged the Lady of House Nikolaos, “You see this tree here?” The High Priestess said as she turned to Rene, “This Cypress tree was planted during the early days of the sisterhood and marks our birth. The late High Priestess Artemisia chose the Cypress tree because it also marked the birth of our great goddess, Artemis.”
A small smile appeared on Kallista’s face as she marveled at the tall, mature tree as it stood unwavering in the main hall. Prayers are always held in front of the goddess’s most sacred tree, because it’s believed to be the source or beacon of her presence in the temple. Kallista always felt close to the goddess whenever she was near the greened tree, and it pleased her to know others have found peace in her embrace.
The sisterhood that was founded in Illytia turned into a generational upbringing of women that has spawned strong, humbled servants of their goddess. The Cypress Sisterhood is reknowned for their practice and faith in Artemis, and considered to be the largest priesthood that belonged to the Chaste goddess. When Kallista was brought into the white temple, she was much different from herself today, and she believes fully that the sisterhood was the roots of her growth. Before the temple, Kallista lived a life similar to other girls in poorer provinces, and there was an expectation that never seemed to fit. Society was too restrictive and purposeful towards the treatment of women, and it took tragedy for her to break free. The ghosts of her story still haunts her thoughts, but there was a certain peace found within the temple that healed all of her wounds – all except one. Men will forever be the bane of her existence, despite not being completely misandristic, Kallista has made it a point that men are beneath her. With that in mind, not all women are sisters, but all women are protected by Artemis in her house. The Cypress Sisters have taken in women since the dawn of their creation, and it became their mission to be the avengers and rescuers of womanhood.
Kallista eyed the young girl with a gentle gaze and she spoke with warmness, “There is no need for an apology, Lady Rene. I simply wished to share my gratitude for such a grand offering – beautiful to say the least,” Kallista said as she waved a hand in the direction of the urn, before she returned to a more poised position. The High Priestess continued, “We are all servants to the gods, therefore it is not I that should be pleased. Kallista turned towards the tall Cypress Tree in admiration as she engaged the Lady of House Nikolaos, “You see this tree here?” The High Priestess said as she turned to Rene, “This Cypress tree was planted during the early days of the sisterhood and marks our birth. The late High Priestess Artemisia chose the Cypress tree because it also marked the birth of our great goddess, Artemis.”
A small smile appeared on Kallista’s face as she marveled at the tall, mature tree as it stood unwavering in the main hall. Prayers are always held in front of the goddess’s most sacred tree, because it’s believed to be the source or beacon of her presence in the temple. Kallista always felt close to the goddess whenever she was near the greened tree, and it pleased her to know others have found peace in her embrace.
Rene’s sapphire pools followed the priestess’s gesture to the glorious cypress tree rooted between the naos and the opisthodomos behind the altar, the crown jewel of the temple, a living embodiment of Artemis herself, presiding over those in her convent in purity and graceful silence. Beams of sunlight showered through what windows and airy openings lining the dome of the apse, like a luminous crown for the magnificent tree. Where towering depictions of the gods usually reigned over their disciples, the tree of Artemis presented a more natural and oddly calming serenity to the temple, an approachability by means of such an assuming and cherished aspect of nature. There at its arboreal foot sat Rene’s urn, appearing diminutive next to the stately softwood. The inwardly insecure young woman always battled with her confidence and worthiness, though humility was crucial when prostrating one’s self before the gods. In addition to praying for blessings and offering gratitude, she always added prayers that the gods would accept her offerings that she spent so much time lovingly creating.
A humble smile flashed over the adolescent’s rose dusted lips as she gazed back to the priestess. “It is my honor to offer my pieces to the gods. I beseech the gods find them favorable.” With a sweeping gaze about the temple’s palatial interior, with gold banded columns and statues of the goddess, hanging thuribles burning fragrant incense, oil lamps and ornate candelabras burning votives could be found along the walls and pillared colonnade. With an appreciation for not only the sanctity of the temple, but also the aesthetic, Rene marveled for a handful of heartbeats before speaking once more. “The tree is an impressive one, and a glorious choice for the goddess. It was wise of Artemisia to choose it as a focal piece. I can only imagine what great care has been taken of it.”
There was another moment of silence, as if Rene considered a few things, before proceeding. “It is very generous of the Sisterhood to permit visitors to the temple. From what I have learned, this is normally a sanctuary for sisters only. The inclusivity of allowing men today surely grants Your Grace with esteem from the gods. I imagine this could not have been an easy decision, though a benevolent one. How long has Your Grace assumed the role of High Priestess?”
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Rene’s sapphire pools followed the priestess’s gesture to the glorious cypress tree rooted between the naos and the opisthodomos behind the altar, the crown jewel of the temple, a living embodiment of Artemis herself, presiding over those in her convent in purity and graceful silence. Beams of sunlight showered through what windows and airy openings lining the dome of the apse, like a luminous crown for the magnificent tree. Where towering depictions of the gods usually reigned over their disciples, the tree of Artemis presented a more natural and oddly calming serenity to the temple, an approachability by means of such an assuming and cherished aspect of nature. There at its arboreal foot sat Rene’s urn, appearing diminutive next to the stately softwood. The inwardly insecure young woman always battled with her confidence and worthiness, though humility was crucial when prostrating one’s self before the gods. In addition to praying for blessings and offering gratitude, she always added prayers that the gods would accept her offerings that she spent so much time lovingly creating.
A humble smile flashed over the adolescent’s rose dusted lips as she gazed back to the priestess. “It is my honor to offer my pieces to the gods. I beseech the gods find them favorable.” With a sweeping gaze about the temple’s palatial interior, with gold banded columns and statues of the goddess, hanging thuribles burning fragrant incense, oil lamps and ornate candelabras burning votives could be found along the walls and pillared colonnade. With an appreciation for not only the sanctity of the temple, but also the aesthetic, Rene marveled for a handful of heartbeats before speaking once more. “The tree is an impressive one, and a glorious choice for the goddess. It was wise of Artemisia to choose it as a focal piece. I can only imagine what great care has been taken of it.”
There was another moment of silence, as if Rene considered a few things, before proceeding. “It is very generous of the Sisterhood to permit visitors to the temple. From what I have learned, this is normally a sanctuary for sisters only. The inclusivity of allowing men today surely grants Your Grace with esteem from the gods. I imagine this could not have been an easy decision, though a benevolent one. How long has Your Grace assumed the role of High Priestess?”
Rene’s sapphire pools followed the priestess’s gesture to the glorious cypress tree rooted between the naos and the opisthodomos behind the altar, the crown jewel of the temple, a living embodiment of Artemis herself, presiding over those in her convent in purity and graceful silence. Beams of sunlight showered through what windows and airy openings lining the dome of the apse, like a luminous crown for the magnificent tree. Where towering depictions of the gods usually reigned over their disciples, the tree of Artemis presented a more natural and oddly calming serenity to the temple, an approachability by means of such an assuming and cherished aspect of nature. There at its arboreal foot sat Rene’s urn, appearing diminutive next to the stately softwood. The inwardly insecure young woman always battled with her confidence and worthiness, though humility was crucial when prostrating one’s self before the gods. In addition to praying for blessings and offering gratitude, she always added prayers that the gods would accept her offerings that she spent so much time lovingly creating.
A humble smile flashed over the adolescent’s rose dusted lips as she gazed back to the priestess. “It is my honor to offer my pieces to the gods. I beseech the gods find them favorable.” With a sweeping gaze about the temple’s palatial interior, with gold banded columns and statues of the goddess, hanging thuribles burning fragrant incense, oil lamps and ornate candelabras burning votives could be found along the walls and pillared colonnade. With an appreciation for not only the sanctity of the temple, but also the aesthetic, Rene marveled for a handful of heartbeats before speaking once more. “The tree is an impressive one, and a glorious choice for the goddess. It was wise of Artemisia to choose it as a focal piece. I can only imagine what great care has been taken of it.”
There was another moment of silence, as if Rene considered a few things, before proceeding. “It is very generous of the Sisterhood to permit visitors to the temple. From what I have learned, this is normally a sanctuary for sisters only. The inclusivity of allowing men today surely grants Your Grace with esteem from the gods. I imagine this could not have been an easy decision, though a benevolent one. How long has Your Grace assumed the role of High Priestess?”
Curveball A Decade of Peace
As discussions between the kings and the High Priestess come to a close, there is a subtle nod given to a band of soldiers marking the front lawn of the Temple. Each possesses a horn fastened at their hip. With a single nod from their sovereign King Tython, each is lifted to their lips and sounded.
The tone is soft but deep of belly and heart. It through the air, like a heartbeat brought slowly to the height of adrenaline. Or a soul bolstered with courage. The single note rises louder, bringing conversations to a sudden end and drawing focus. Sentences are hurried to a close and faces turn towards the front steps of the Temple. The three Kings of Greece stand beside one another, enough space between them to honour each of their own status. Zenon stands at the centre, Minas to his right and the colchian king upon the left. To one side, the High Priestess Kallista and her ladies are a demure audience ready to play aides to the monarchs if necessary.
As the crowd quietens, King Tython of Kotas raises his hands, intention greeting both his own people and those who have travelled to honour the peace. He remains there, awaiting the focus of all before he speaks...
[[This is the curveball for the main event thread. If you would like to partake in what happens next, just move your characters back to the Event thread. If not, carry on here! This is just for your information.]]
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As discussions between the kings and the High Priestess come to a close, there is a subtle nod given to a band of soldiers marking the front lawn of the Temple. Each possesses a horn fastened at their hip. With a single nod from their sovereign King Tython, each is lifted to their lips and sounded.
The tone is soft but deep of belly and heart. It through the air, like a heartbeat brought slowly to the height of adrenaline. Or a soul bolstered with courage. The single note rises louder, bringing conversations to a sudden end and drawing focus. Sentences are hurried to a close and faces turn towards the front steps of the Temple. The three Kings of Greece stand beside one another, enough space between them to honour each of their own status. Zenon stands at the centre, Minas to his right and the colchian king upon the left. To one side, the High Priestess Kallista and her ladies are a demure audience ready to play aides to the monarchs if necessary.
As the crowd quietens, King Tython of Kotas raises his hands, intention greeting both his own people and those who have travelled to honour the peace. He remains there, awaiting the focus of all before he speaks...
[[This is the curveball for the main event thread. If you would like to partake in what happens next, just move your characters back to the Event thread. If not, carry on here! This is just for your information.]]
Curveball A Decade of Peace
As discussions between the kings and the High Priestess come to a close, there is a subtle nod given to a band of soldiers marking the front lawn of the Temple. Each possesses a horn fastened at their hip. With a single nod from their sovereign King Tython, each is lifted to their lips and sounded.
The tone is soft but deep of belly and heart. It through the air, like a heartbeat brought slowly to the height of adrenaline. Or a soul bolstered with courage. The single note rises louder, bringing conversations to a sudden end and drawing focus. Sentences are hurried to a close and faces turn towards the front steps of the Temple. The three Kings of Greece stand beside one another, enough space between them to honour each of their own status. Zenon stands at the centre, Minas to his right and the colchian king upon the left. To one side, the High Priestess Kallista and her ladies are a demure audience ready to play aides to the monarchs if necessary.
As the crowd quietens, King Tython of Kotas raises his hands, intention greeting both his own people and those who have travelled to honour the peace. He remains there, awaiting the focus of all before he speaks...
[[This is the curveball for the main event thread. If you would like to partake in what happens next, just move your characters back to the Event thread. If not, carry on here! This is just for your information.]]
As the conversation progressed for a bit, it proved interesting to Rene, including the priestess' subliminal efforts to recruit Rene as a possible temple maiden. With the utmost grace and tact, the young Athenian declined the most honorable offer, and retrieved a fresh piece of fruit and small skin of wine for the priestess in gratitude for soliciting such an exclusive membership to Rene.
Upon finishing with her prayers, Rene retreated from the temple grounds,to enjoy the festivities of the day.
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As the conversation progressed for a bit, it proved interesting to Rene, including the priestess' subliminal efforts to recruit Rene as a possible temple maiden. With the utmost grace and tact, the young Athenian declined the most honorable offer, and retrieved a fresh piece of fruit and small skin of wine for the priestess in gratitude for soliciting such an exclusive membership to Rene.
Upon finishing with her prayers, Rene retreated from the temple grounds,to enjoy the festivities of the day.
As the conversation progressed for a bit, it proved interesting to Rene, including the priestess' subliminal efforts to recruit Rene as a possible temple maiden. With the utmost grace and tact, the young Athenian declined the most honorable offer, and retrieved a fresh piece of fruit and small skin of wine for the priestess in gratitude for soliciting such an exclusive membership to Rene.
Upon finishing with her prayers, Rene retreated from the temple grounds,to enjoy the festivities of the day.