It is one of the few known temples of the infamous god, Pan, blossoming in the tolerance that used to be so typical of the capital. Though there are altars for the sects of Pan's Blood and Pan's Arts this temple is mainly devoted to Pan's Joy: the wild enjoyment of drink, sex and music to the abandonment of everything else. And surely it’s no coincidence that this temple is located right between the Rose Guild and the Bardic College. The sounds of revelry have died out with the raids in the town, a sudden silence that seems almost eerie.
The whiter than white marble columns are invitingly covered by green vines, almost pulling the visitor inside. The entrance of the temple is formed by a set of large marble stairs that give a sense of awe, but the creeping plants manage to give the atmosphere something intimate at the same time. The great redwood doors stand open to welcome all who wish to worship the Threefold God.
Entering the sanctuary and crossing the marble floor accented with inlaid lines of black mica, one quickly realizes that the vast chamber is divided into three areas, each containing an altar to an aspect of the deity. Huge columns rise up to the vaulted ceiling, each entwined with lush vines, giving the sanctuary a feeling reminiscent of a garden.
Rather than brave the docks and it's assorted skeezy dives in search of lodgings, Leon had opted to instead brave the crowds and the city proper. This was primarily because he supposed (no doubt correctly) that taverns frequented by sailors did not often contain baths; but also, and he did not admit this lightly even to himself, he was a touch intimidated by such potentially dangerous folk and would prefer not to spend large amounts of time around them. Nothing would do his future in the Citadel more harm than having everything he owned stolen, with only a black eye as compensation. It was the black eye Crowley feared most. It would benefit his otherwise fair countenance not at all.
Explosions aside, everyone in the Citadel and their dog seemed to be heading for the harbour, like some vast exodus of rats from a ship. It was not easy to navigate such crowds and it took Leon quite some time to reach his destination. He had headed, as directly as possible, for the Temple of Pan; being a Panling he supposed that they would have no problem in providing bathing facilities and possibly even a place to stay. Cheap and functional, providing for both his slim purse and generous aspirations.
Upon arriving, he stopped across the street to observe the Temple momentarily, and to rest his arms having lugged his chest full of belongings quite some distance and being unused to labour of any kind. Leon rubbed his biceps thoughtfully, and made a mental note to acquire some kind of large and handsome male attendant for donkeywork as soon as he was able to afford one.
Hmm... 'Handsome' is probably not essential. Strong but plain would be good enough as long as I were not obliged to look at him too frequently. Ugliness of soul is understandable in any man of experience and truly only to be expected, but ugliness of appearance is almost always sheer laziness, and thus unforgivable. I will never understand why any man would choose to look upon ugliness in any form, particularly in his own self.
In a slightly obsessive gesture, Leon ran a hand over his own hair critically, and his desire to bathe prickled.
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OOC: Stop me if I've gone too far into the city - I understand there is or was a fire in the vicinity, so if you want me to approach this differently, let me know. :)