Seeking an Audience (Basilica Dominici, Jygust 30th Late TT)

Moderators: Maeve, Mods

Locked
Anistis
The Tender
Posts: 148
Joined: Sat Apr 26, 2008 10:46 pm
Location: Kings Court

Seeking an Audience (Basilica Dominici, Jygust 30th Late TT)

Post by Anistis »

Set on its own pathway within the boulevard of temples in King's Court, stands the Basilica Dominici- the Temple of The One. Alabaster walls stand as testaments to the purity of the One True Faith. Surrounded on all sides by a tall and impressive wall, the church manages to avoid looking like a fortress- tall and elegant sculptures standing along the edges- pictures of saints and angels taken from Dominicus's dogma. An experienced clergyman might recognize the Chronicler Oren or the Cardinal Kern; Drakedoder and Berkeley. The present rain runs along the sculptures, giving them an appearance of sadness and woe, as if the saints themselves weep for the King's Court at present.

In the center of the wall there is a massive gate- ornately crafted in silver metal that is blessed to never rust, until the faith of all men within should fail. The ornate entrance is always held open- just as the arms of Dominicus himself are always open to new followers. Just within the gates is a splendid garden, lush in its greenery and vibrant in its flowers- tended by some of the most religiously devout monks to walk the face of Tazlure. Perhaps it is this devotion that allows this garden to remain pure and luminous despite the rain and cold- where all other gardens might fail. The main path leads directly forward, hedged in by the shrubs of the garden itself at waist height, leading directly toward the main chapel, the tallest building in the entire complex- smaller walkways branching off, to the less-important structures.

It is the main chapel that is most impressive, however, remarkable in its height and elegance- essentially a circular building, bound on all sides by columns and arches. There are other sculptures set in the alcoves and upon the roof, here, a tall spire stretching upward from the entire mass- spiraling into the heavens- capped in a gilded depiction of an eye, the simple of The One. In all times, the chapel is doubtless inviting- but especially so in the current rain, seeming to beckon any approaching travellers forth, into the soothing warmth it provides- the entry chamber visible behind tall doors, partially open- a fire burning within, with deep and comfortable-looking couches set just within the oversized portals. All were welcome to enter freely, especially converts.

Retrieved from "http://wiki.tazlure.nl/index.php/Basilica_Dominici"


Anistis approached the Basilica, where he'd made his home for several yahren, with some trepidation. Never before had he, a lowly acolyte, even seriously contemplated an audience with the Bishop. He'd never met Lazos, and didn't know much about the man. Consequentially, he had no idea what to expect, but he'd waited too long already; Anistis had to speak with Lazos about the cult, the Codex, and any other impending dangers to King's Court.

The acolyte paused for a moment at the gates, placing a hand on the immaculate metal there, which was hot to the touch in the Jygust heat.

So long as this gate remains unrusted, Anistis reflected, there is hope. He bowed his head and said a brief prayer to Dominicus, thanking Him for the continued faith of the Church in this time of schism.

With that, Anistis entered the Basilica and headed in the direction of the Bishop's study, explaining to anyone who may have stopped him and inquired that he needed to speak to Bishop Lazos- and him alone- of a matter of grave importance, and that so long as it was the will of the Bishop and of The One, that it would be best if he were admitted as soon as possible. He would, however, wait for as long as was necessary.
Last edited by Anistis on Sun Sep 28, 2008 12:17 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Ashari
Moderator & Coordinator Mer Cities
Posts: 4125
Joined: Mon Dec 30, 2002 11:31 pm
Location: Anachronism

Post by Ashari »

Anistis left the stifling hot summer air of Jygust in the city for the cool retainer of the Basilica's entrance foyer. The stones embraced the chill of gravetide and held fast to it. It could be considered a refreshing change, though parts of the large stone building seemed to never warm up, even in the height of the warm season.

Dressed in the robes of a healer, Father Marcus swept through the main hall and caught sight of the acolyte. "Good afternoon, child," he said touchingly with a soft smile. His short curly hair seemed larger than usual, thanks to the humidity. Aside from that, he was much the same as always, a pleasant look upon his young face and his understanding brown eyes lifting to meet those of Anistis in greeting.

"How do you fair this tide?"

Around him other members of the clergy buzzed and moved with efficiency. Even though it wasn't Rasday there was still much to be done around the Basilica, particularly in these times of trouble.
[color=#000000][i]"What of the soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?"[/i]
-- Robert Browning. [/color][size=75][i]Avatar by: [url=http://vyrl.deviantart.com/]vyrl[/url][/i][/size]
Anistis
The Tender
Posts: 148
Joined: Sat Apr 26, 2008 10:46 pm
Location: Kings Court

Post by Anistis »

"Good tradetide, Father Marcus," Anistis replied, returning the priest's smile. It was comforting to see friendly and familiar faces, and Marcus' smile did much to calm Anistis' nervousness. "I'm well enough."

The acolyte considered whether or not to avoid telling Father Marcus what he was up to. Three months ago, Brother Tyrone had given him the impression that anyone in a habit or cassock could be a member of the mysterious and sinister cult that the dark achadiel had been trying to quell. Perhaps this was true, but Anistis could not believe this of Father Marcus. Despite recent events, it simply wasn't in the young acolyte's nature to be supsicious of others without ample cause. Keeping silent about the whole issue over the past three months had been taxing indeed, because he felt as if he'd been doing something wrong by witholding it from his superiors. Nevertheless, this news was for the ears of Bishop Lazos alone, but he would tell the good Father that much, at least.

"If there's any task that you require of me, Father, I'll be happy to perform it, but- and this is going to sound strange- I have to speak with Bishop Lazos first."
Azure Stonehand
Civus
Posts: 52
Joined: Sat Apr 05, 2008 7:41 pm
Location: Reading, PA/Kings Court

Post by Azure Stonehand »

Zeyanara was quiet at Azure's questions, and finally admitted not knowing. She'd overheard her mother praying, and that was how she found out what she did know. The young woman shuddered and said she didn't wish to talk about it any more.

On evening of the 29th of Jygust Zeyanara came to Azure with whispers from eavesdropping on her mother again. "She says things will change here and that King's Court won't be the same as it's been... I'm scared, Azure," she sobbed on the fighter's shoulder. "She keeps asking Dominicus for help... Will you go with me to confession trade-tide tomorrow? I want to see a priest."


Azure froze for a moment. She had not been to confession often in her life, as she did not do many bad things in her life that required a priest. In a small part of her, deep inside, she feared the One and any anger she may cause him. Azure now wondered if she should have taken confession as an opportunity to talk to a priest instead of a means to be forgiven of wrongs. As Zeyanara sobbed she took her friend into an embrace to comfort her.

"Don't be afraid, Zeyanara. The One guides many people in many directions. Perhaps He is guiding your mother's work." Azure searched for other reasons as she released her from the hug and began walking toward the Basilica. "I understand this is very hard for you, but you must be prepared to be a support for your mother should she need it. Everything will be okay." I hope. Azure hid the latter in mind, being just a tad scared herself.

Once at the Basilica, Azure found that she felt small and unimportant against its enormous size. It was a beautiful building and she had always enjoyed coming here to worship. This time the greatness of the One overwhelmed her here, causing a sense of foreboding to creep into her body and cause her gentle shivers. She smiled reassuringly at Zeyanara as they entered the place.

She looked to see Anistis not far ahead and was immediately relieved to see someone she knew here. She rushed forward to him, waited patiently for him to finish talking to another priest, and then spoke.

"Anistis!" She said with some excitement. "It's wonderful to see you! I was wondering if you could direct us to a priest in which we could have confession with. Zeyanara would like to speak to one, and while I am here, I would too." She paused. "Unless I'm holding you up from more important matters...then I wouldn't want to come in the way of church business." Azure frowned. "I hope I haven't already. It wouldn't do for the church to be upset with me."
Azure Stonehand
AKA Meisha
Avatar: Hagarun
Anistis
The Tender
Posts: 148
Joined: Sat Apr 26, 2008 10:46 pm
Location: Kings Court

Post by Anistis »

At the sound of his name, Anistis turned to see Azure approaching with Zeynara trailing behind. His face broke into a bright smile. Returning his attention momentarily to Father Marcus, he offered a quick bow and an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry, Father; I'll just be a moment," he said in a rush of words and turned back to Azure, unintentionally doing so before Marcus could say anything about the acolyte's request to see the bishop.

"Good tradetide in the One's name," Anistis greeted with enthusiasm. At the mention of confession, he offered a benign smile. He would've been happy to hear her confession himself, but as he was only an acolyte, he didn't have the authority yet. Being able to assure others that Dominicus loved them, accepted their repentance, and forgave them of all wrongdoing was one of the things Anistis looked forward to most about ordination. Fewer greater mercies could he think of than offering the peace of mind that forgiveness of sins imparted.

"Father Marcus," Anistis said, addressing the kindly priest and hoping that he wasn't too bewildered by the current goings-on, "might you have time to hear confession? I was wrong to have been so hasty just now, and, if you're so inclined, of course I'd be happy to take care of any task you require while you do so."
Tyrone
The Jackal
Posts: 152
Joined: Sat Feb 02, 2008 7:36 am
Location: Kings Court

Post by Tyrone »

Like a long forgotten memory he came, a silent whisper of the past, a faint wisp of what he was before, a dark ghost of a man and upon the unwashed, tattered black robe he wore silently cried the tales of his long journey. Unobtrusively, the Jackal entered the Basilica, the holiest place in Tazlure, with tears openly streaming down his dark cheeks, he gazed with such wonder at what surround him, basking under the holiness of the place. When last he came here, the Basilica was under renovation, that was three months ago, but now, he couldn't hardly believe what he was seeing, at the splendor and divine majesty that surround him. With profound awe, eyes streaming with tears, the young novice monk fell upon his knees and reverently kissed the sacred marble floor of the holy church, glorifying the name of the Lord God, Almighty. I am poor and sorrowful: Thy salvation, O God, Tyrone cried silently within the depths of his mind, pushing back his hood to reveal his sun ravaged, dark adhiel face, thinner and gaunt. Weeping, his gray eyes focused upon the sacred altar, he started to walk on his knees towards the Holy Tabernacle, beating at his chest with his closed fist, oblivious to his surrounding. Hath set me up. I will praise the name of God with canticle; and I will magnify Him with praise.

The dark achadhiel stretched out his arms heavenward as he started to walk forward on his knees, sometimes, kissing the marble floor in front of him until he came before the main altar and gazed adoringly up at the symbol of the Sacred One Dove and marveling at the Majesty and Omnipotency of the Lord God, Almighty. Silently, the dark Achadhiel spread himself before the altar, lying prostrate upon the floor, facedown, arms outstretched and legs together. The sculptures and the Eye of the One were the silent witnesses to the devotion of the young monk was doing, they indifferently looked upon the prostrate figure as the golden beam of the sun danced around the figure, beaming from the colored-glass paned and illuminating colorful hues upon the holy floor.

Mine eyes are ever towards the Lord: for He shall pluck me feet out of the snare: look Thou upon me, and have mercy on me; for I am alone and poor.

Slowly, with a faint rustle of his black, deep cowled, monk's robe, he then moved once more and knelt before the high altar. His eyes burning with fervent devoutness, he closed them and silently weeping, he banged his head upon the marbled, cold floor and beat his heart with both his closed fist.

For with Thee is salvation. With Thee, O Lord Dominicus shall Tazlure be purged of its sin. Let Thy ears be attentive to the voice of my supplication.

With a loud hiss, Tyrone, bathed in the dancing, colorful light beaming from the hued, class paned window, unsheathed his small dagger from his large sleeve of his black robe. Reverently, he offered the gleaming blade upon the altar, and rocking back and forth, the monk steeled himself and with a controled grunt of pain, he slighty slashed his left wrist, drawing red blood upon the sacred ground.

"Let the blood of my father be purged." The figure intoned, his voice a sibilant whisper. Clenching his left wrist, the novice monk dripped his own blood upon the floor. "Let the sins of my mother be cleansed. Let the blood and sins of the adhiels be purged. O Lord Dominicus, heed the voice of my pleading."

Silently, and with a faint rustle of his robe, the Dark Jackal laid himself down once more upon the sacred ground of the Basilica, his heart glad by the sacrifice he had offered to the Lord God, Dominicus.
[size=75]Avatar from:[url=http://artofphilwohr.blogspot.com/2007/08/redmist-castle-work.html]Phil Wohr[/url]
[hr][/hr]
[i][b]"Hate thy neighbours for they hate you even more."[/i][/b]
[hr][/hr]
Posting: Once/week[/size]
Ashari
Moderator & Coordinator Mer Cities
Posts: 4125
Joined: Mon Dec 30, 2002 11:31 pm
Location: Anachronism

Post by Ashari »

"I fear nothing in the house of the Lord," Zeynara said peacefully upon entrance of the grand building. Her hands clasped in the briefest manipulation of reverence, before taking up at the warrior's side again. "I'm ready," she said, and together they walked until Azure recognized Anistis and lead the pair toward them.

"Father," Zeynara gave him the first aknowledgement, as was proper, and then gave a polite expression toward the acolyte who spoke with him, befor realizing that she knew him as well. The young lady-ship was so caught up in her own affairs she didn't recognize him. "Well met again."

Father Marcus gave both Azure and Zeynara welcoming smiles upon their approach, but considered Anistis' change of subject upon their arrival rather telling. "Welcome, children." The priest intoned.

As Ani asked about Marcus' ability to hear confession he was quite prepared to say yes, but a dark figure entered the church - his tattered robes of the Purificatio setting the tone. His brown eyes scanned the large room for other members of the clergy who could see to Tyrone, but none were obvious. "Son," he brought his focus back onto Anistis. "Please shephard this small flock to confessional, and then you may meet me in Bishop's Foyer after." It was the closest one could get to the Bishop without a meeting.

Marcus left their company with brisk steps toward the shadowy and gaunt figure of a loner, a silouhette that Anistis would recognize as soon as he turned to face it.

-=-=-

In the eyes of the Jackal there was naught but the glory of Dominicus, and it filled him like wine does a drunkard, with just as sweet and intoxicating taste. The camphor resin burned in hung thurbils around the chamber, and filled the air with palpable pine. Smoke lifted through the perforated tops of the containers - like the prayers of the sinners toward the heavenly ear of the One god. "Brother," Marcus placed a tentative hand on Tyrone's shoulder. "May I absolve you, brother, in the name of the One?" His brown eyes were soft, understanding, though also quite alert to the dark achadhiel's bony structure and new wound. Self-flagellating was a common practice that Father Marcus didn't follow himself, but could respect as a form of prayer. He also assumed this pilgrim had been fasting for some time, or so his appearance suggested.
[color=#000000][i]"What of the soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?"[/i]
-- Robert Browning. [/color][size=75][i]Avatar by: [url=http://vyrl.deviantart.com/]vyrl[/url][/i][/size]
Azure Stonehand
Civus
Posts: 52
Joined: Sat Apr 05, 2008 7:41 pm
Location: Reading, PA/Kings Court

Post by Azure Stonehand »

"Good tradetide in the One's name," Anistis greeted with enthusiasm. At the mention of confession, he offered a benign smile.


"I'm sorry! I lost my manners!" Azure spoke apologetically. "Good tradetide to you as well, also in the name of the One." She smiled and released a sigh of relief. She was very happy to see Anistis again for she liked him so well. He seemed truly good and genuine, both traits that Azure respected and liked.

At the words of the priest, Azure turned to Anistis with a brighter smile and waited for him to lead the way. "How have you been, Anistis? Are things going well for you in the Church? I hope so. Your heart is meant for this work and it would be nice to see you become a priest one day soon. I wish you were able to take confession, I know I would feel more comfortable speaking with you." She smiled at Zeyanara who walked with her. "Again, I talk too much. Please reply. I beg your pardon."
Azure Stonehand
AKA Meisha
Avatar: Hagarun
Anistis
The Tender
Posts: 148
Joined: Sat Apr 26, 2008 10:46 pm
Location: Kings Court

Post by Anistis »

"Yes, Fa-" The rest of the word died in Anistis' mouth when he caught sight of the familiar figure of a dark achadhiel, caught up in a holy ecstasy strangely mingled with the anguish of a penitent sinner. Brother Tyrone!

Anistis was shocked to see him here, but even more shocked to see that he looked like one of the starving people the acolyte had encountered occassionally in the Poor Quarter, and as if he'd been the victim of one or more savage beatings. Anistis wanted to run to Tyrone, to bind his wounds, feed him, and find out what had happened to the poor man over the past three months, but Father Marcus was walking that way now and had made it quite clear that Anistis was not to follow him.

He'd had been so lost in thought that he'd almost not realized that Azure was speaking to him, but he caught enough of what she'd said to be able to respond.

"I'm flattered," he told the woman with a self-deprecating half-smile as he began walking in the direction of the confessional, "but my still being an acolyte means that I'm not quite ready; I'm sure you'll be better off in the hands of an ordained priest." Azure seemed a good person to Anistis (then again, so did everyone unless they gave an explicit impression to the contrary), and the thought occured to him that her martial skills might be useful in combating the mysterious cult that dominated the acolyte's thoughts and nightmares. It upset him to think that it might come to violence, but, if given the bishop's leave to do so, Anistis would likely try to enlist Azure's help.

"My studies are coming along quickly enough, though," Anistis told Azure, "and although the Church is suffering a great deal of turbulence right now, I'm sure we'll make it through.

"How about you?" he asked, his question and bright green gaze focused on both Azure and Zeynara. "Any more luck than me with the Codex?" This last he asked in a slightly more hushed tone.
Azure Stonehand
Civus
Posts: 52
Joined: Sat Apr 05, 2008 7:41 pm
Location: Reading, PA/Kings Court

Post by Azure Stonehand »

Azure followed Anistis gaze to the dark adhiel, over her shoulder as they walked along. She wondered if she would ever be so passionate for something...she shook the thought away noticing Anistis' far away look. Did he know the dark adhiel?, she wondered to herself, Am I keeping him from a friend? Azure suddenly felt awful for drawing his attention away from something he obviously cared so much about. She frowned deeply at herself and was grateful for his response to her babbling.

"I am glad your studies are going well. I still believe that you will make a great priest. I can't wait until that day comes."

Azure looked around to make sure no one was in earshot. She looked at Zeyanara with a weak smile. "The codex...we aren't have such good luck with that," She whispered beneath her breath. "I am waiting for the Lady to send me on the next errand." She stopped whispering. "In the meantime, Zeyanara and I have been spending some time talking and becoming friends. I'm sure we will need to go on another mission for her ladyship. I will come and get you if you would like to go along." Azure remembered the figure who had entered the basilica that caught Anistis' attention. "Unless you have some other pressing matters to attend to. I don't want to keep you from people who need you."
Last edited by Azure Stonehand on Tue Sep 30, 2008 11:40 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Azure Stonehand
AKA Meisha
Avatar: Hagarun
Tyrone
The Jackal
Posts: 152
Joined: Sat Feb 02, 2008 7:36 am
Location: Kings Court

Post by Tyrone »

Absolution. Tyrone opened his eyes from his deep reverie and turned them towards the priest, fully showing him the anguish that filled his zealous eyes. But there was a hint of acceptance too, a hint of peace of what he was, of what he had become and of what he would never be forgiven for. For how long will I ask for redemption when my iniquities run deep in my blood? For as long Tazlure would be awashed in offense, then it would be for that long the Jackal would be immense in sin and only the God Almighty can wash away the evils of his ancestors. With a deep breath, the Jackal of the Purificatio inhaled the holy smoke that filled the sacred Basilica, the smoke filling him, calming him, knowing that at last he had returned home.

"Forgive me, Father," The voice of the young novice monk was coarse, as if he had not used them for a long time. "...but you cannot, my sins are aplenty and they run deep within my blood. But pray for me, Holy Father, and accept the acts of supplication of this lowly servant of the Lord, that through you, the Lord may relent and forgive the sins of Tazlure."

Kneeling before the holy priest, the gaunt dark achadhiel reverently kissed the hem of Father Marcus' robe, honoring the priestly vestment he wore, his silvery, unkempt hair glimmering under the light of the late tradetide sun. Small droplets of blood still trickled down from the wound on his wrist, dripping down to the marbled floor. The pain was bearable, Tyrone was used to it, he savored on it as an act of adoration and prayer to the One God, Dominicus. He then mouthed the Tahanun Canticle from the Scriptures of the One:

"*We have sinned,
and have committed iniquity,
and have done wickedly,
and have rebelled,
even by departing from Thy precepts
and from Thy judgments:
Neither have we hearkened
unto thy servants the prophets,
which spake in Thy name to our kings,
our princes,
and our fathers,
and to all the people of the land.
Neither have we obeyed the voice of Dominicus,
to walk in His laws,
which He set before us
by His servants the prophets.
Yea, all Tazlure have transgressed Thy law,
even by departing,
that they might not obey Thy voice;
therefore the curse is poured upon us,
and the oath that is written in the law of Ustus,
the servant of God,
because we have sinned against Him."

For a flicker of moment, Tyrone stayed kneeling before the priest in silence, letting the sanctity of the Church wash over him and filled once more with a sense of peace, that he had poured forth the sins of Tazlure, he gracefully stood up with a small rustle of his robe and faced Father Marcus with a profound zealous calmness.

"I am Brother Tyrone, a novice inquisitor of the Purificatio from the Diocese of Prodesse." The dark achadhiel began, his gray eyes flickering for a moment behind Father Marcus, to a familiar person walking away, meeting Anistis' green eyes and gravely nodding at him before turning once more to the holy priest before him. "I am seeking an audience with the Holy Bishop Lazos. I have been on a pilgrimage and fasting in the desert dunes of Terra Incognita these past three months. Command me what you will, Father, for I am but a low servant of the Lord."
[hr][/hr]
* Loosely taken from Daniel 9:5
Last edited by Tyrone on Wed Oct 01, 2008 9:38 am, edited 1 time in total.
[size=75]Avatar from:[url=http://artofphilwohr.blogspot.com/2007/08/redmist-castle-work.html]Phil Wohr[/url]
[hr][/hr]
[i][b]"Hate thy neighbours for they hate you even more."[/i][/b]
[hr][/hr]
Posting: Once/week[/size]
Anistis
The Tender
Posts: 148
Joined: Sat Apr 26, 2008 10:46 pm
Location: Kings Court

Post by Anistis »

As they began walking away, Anistis caught Tyrone's gaze and nodded to him in return. That simple acknowledgement went a long way to ensure Anistis of Tyrone's well-being, but his condition still was unsettling. Why is he bleeding? he wondered as they walked away, having never been exposed to the practice of self-flagellation and other such extreme forms of piety. He took a deep breath and assured himself that Father Marcus would see to it that the dark achadiel would get the care he needed.

Returning his attention to Azure when she began speaking again, he told her as much. "You mean Tyrone? It's alright; Father Marcus will take care of him, and I'm sure I'll see him again shortly. If there's another mission to search for the lost pages," he said quietly, "I'd definitely want to come along. Now, I will hopefully be meeting soon with Bishop Lazos regarding some matters that are very pressing indeed, but if you and Zeynara stick around after your confession, I'd like to speak with you about them as well."
Azure Stonehand
Civus
Posts: 52
Joined: Sat Apr 05, 2008 7:41 pm
Location: Reading, PA/Kings Court

Post by Azure Stonehand »

Azure perked up. Pressing matters! Hopefully another mission that may prove more adventuresome than the last! She eagerly thought. And for the church, too?! Azure looked her friend and smiled. "If it's OK with you, Zeyanara, I would love to stick around and hear what Anistis has to say."

She turned back to Anistis. "I hope your meeting with the Bishop goes well," She said nicely with a smile. "I am excited to hear what you have to say once you are done speaking with him." Azure's eyes twinkled brightly. "I would be excited to help the church any way I could."
Azure Stonehand
AKA Meisha
Avatar: Hagarun
Ashari
Moderator & Coordinator Mer Cities
Posts: 4125
Joined: Mon Dec 30, 2002 11:31 pm
Location: Anachronism

Post by Ashari »

Zeynara remained mostly quiet during the conversation between Anistis and Azure, as she was very content with thinking over her confession, as well as being sure to recall all sins she'd partaken in since her last confession, but she did pipe in and say: "I'm sure my mother would like for you to come by. Maybe tomorrow afternoon? I don't think she has anything planned... well.. except for more Codex business," she whispered the last bit dramatically as they walked.

-=-=-

Father Marcus' hand went to Tyrone's forhead, pressing a cool touch to his warm skin that radiated with the heat of zeal. "All are forgiven in the eyes of the One," he said. "If only they should ask." The priest's hand moved from face to shoulder, as he supported the frail form of Tyrone while he fell to his knees in suplication. Even the weight of his robes was a burden to carry, heavy, like the burden of his sins.

Though not used to such reverance, the Father didn't skip a beat, watching this lost sheep like a shephard ought to. As Tyrone began to recite the word of the One, the healer joined him. "...because we have sinned against him," he concluded in time with the dark achadhiel.

His introduction was unsurprising, but Marcus felt in him a great sadness at the thought that one so devout as he might leave this church in favor of the one of World's Mouth. "Brother, much has changed in the times since you left, walk with me a time, and we shall meet with the Bishop as soon as you are ready. Should you wish to take a meal or bath before then?" It was a polite way of suggestion, and the Father hoped Tyrone would realize that in his current state he might not be best representative of his cause.

OOC: Ani & Azure - feel free to move onto your next thread... Confession and Codex. Tyrone, you stick around. Not done with you yet!
[color=#000000][i]"What of the soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?"[/i]
-- Robert Browning. [/color][size=75][i]Avatar by: [url=http://vyrl.deviantart.com/]vyrl[/url][/i][/size]
Tyrone
The Jackal
Posts: 152
Joined: Sat Feb 02, 2008 7:36 am
Location: Kings Court

Post by Tyrone »

Truly, Dominicus inspired the words of Father Marcus and shamed, the Jackal bowed his head, anguish filling him that even when he guarded himself away from sin, it still crept inside him and in his words. Was he worthy to be forgiven by the Lord? Will the Lord, Dominicus, pardon the sins of his forefathers? The Dark Adhiels who turned away from Him, their blood mingling inside his own veins? He was ashamed of their ignorance! When will they see the light? When will they see that Dominicus is the only God and that their ways are the ways of idolatry, of sins and debauchery? Yes, the Kingdom of God is upon them and the Jackal eagerly waited for Tazlure to be redeemed in the holy burning fire of the Almighty Father Dominicus. When the heavens above us and the earth beneath us shall be moved by Your judgment of fire, deliver us, O Lord, from eternal torment of the Nether.

Change? Tyrone frowned at the devout priest, pulling back the deep cowl to hide his achadhiel face. Of course, he mulled, realizing that he had been away for a long time and that indeed, change was inevitable. “Change, Father?” With a small nod, the young dark achadhiel silently followed the human priest, his tattered robe rustling and billowing behind him. “What are the changes that had happened these past few months? I pray that these changes are blessings from the Lord Dominicus! Pray tell, your holiness, these changes, do they concern the convertion of the heathen and the pagans to the doctrines of the Holy Mother, the One Church? Praise be the Lord Dominicus for He has come to His people and set them free from the bondage of sin!”

“But I am ready now, father,” the novice acolyte of the Purificatio replied, looking at the priest with fanatic innocence, unable to understand the politeness underlying the clergy’s statement. “My hunger and thirst can wait until I have presented myself to the Holy Bishop Lazos, they cannot erase the willingness of the soul to obey the commands of the One God, Dominicus.”

“Isn’t that Brother Anistis yonder moving towards the confessionals?” The Jackal stopped for but a moment to stare at the retreating form of the pious brother. “He and I shared…” He paused and frowned, unsure if he should continue. Although he could not lie, his holy vow of obedience forbid him, he could at least omit the mission he had received and shared with the novice priest. “…a calling to serve the Almighty One God, Dominicus.”
[size=75]Avatar from:[url=http://artofphilwohr.blogspot.com/2007/08/redmist-castle-work.html]Phil Wohr[/url]
[hr][/hr]
[i][b]"Hate thy neighbours for they hate you even more."[/i][/b]
[hr][/hr]
Posting: Once/week[/size]
Ashari
Moderator & Coordinator Mer Cities
Posts: 4125
Joined: Mon Dec 30, 2002 11:31 pm
Location: Anachronism

Post by Ashari »

"You may be, brother, but the Bishop is still in meeting for a time yet. You have been embraced by the arms of the One in his holiest of holies. Let him care for you," Father Marcus said with encouragement bleeding into his tone. "Let him care for you as you care for him."

The healer strolled the large space of the church with Tyrone at his side, and lead him into a barely noticable door in one of the many alcoves. Were one not familiar with the church it would be difficult to find one's way. The priests made it rather clear to the acolytes they were best off to learn their way around quickly - else get lost and end up in the Catacombs.

Father Marcus's words were heavy, and he knew that, thus he took Tyrone in deeper still, until they were in the small spaces left for the clergy. "Fetch me some robes, broth and bread," he instructed the only acolyte in the sparsely furnished sitting room who obediently left. "Sit, Brother..." There were several wooden chairs infront of a simple table. Benches lined all the walls. Once comfortable, Marcus sat as well.

"This news - it may strike you and put a fire in you - but take comfort in the One God, for he works in ways we cannot understand," he began with soft eyes. "The Prodesse of the Purificatio has fallen from the Mother Church." He put a hand consolingly on Tyrone's thin shoulder. "It has forsaken us during these difficult times where we are left without avatar. It is the Purificatio's greed that drives this, of that I am sure." There was fire building even in Marcus, for he considered the splinter a betrayal. "For they will not pay tithes to our church after their disgrace of leaving the Holy Kingdom."
[color=#000000][i]"What of the soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?"[/i]
-- Robert Browning. [/color][size=75][i]Avatar by: [url=http://vyrl.deviantart.com/]vyrl[/url][/i][/size]
Tyrone
The Jackal
Posts: 152
Joined: Sat Feb 02, 2008 7:36 am
Location: Kings Court

Post by Tyrone »

“But I am not worthy, Father!” Tyrone exclaimed, stepping back, his gaunt dark face troubled, “Why would the One God care for such a creature sunk low in sin and iniquities?” But hearing the gentleness and the comfort upon the priest’s voice, the dark achadhiel relented and obediently followed Father Marcus. Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall follow You.

He did not fear the vastness of the Basilica for he knew that it was a safe haven, a sanctuary, for under the wings of Dominicus, he felt secure, that even if he got lost inside the enormous and labyrinthine church, he would find solace and redemption at every corners and foundation. So, with silent steps, the Jackal walked, like a dark ghost behind the priest, his gaunt face hidden deep within the cowl of his robe, letting himself be lost within the sacred sanctuary of the Basilica, knowing that with the Priest guiding him, he would not fear the terror of the night. “I shall wait then for the Holy Bishop to finish his meeting.” The novice monk of the Inquisitor murmured, clasping his hands together inside the folds of his tattered sleeves, the One amulet he wore clicking together as he walked forward.

“But you do not need to, your holiness!” The Jackal insisted, his face troubled and somewhat embarrassed to be taken care by the priest. “I am perfectly satisfied with what I am wearing. This has been the only habit I wore when I took the holy vow of obedience and become a novice monk of the Order of the Purificatio.” He replied, fervently looking at the robe he was wearing with glazed, fanatic eyes, not seeing the frayed and tattered state of the cloth. “I beg of you, father! The poor needs it more than I do!” He exclaimed, his eyes nearing on the verge of tears, not understanding why he was being given special privilege and care by such a holy person. But unable to resist the gentle eyes of Father Marcus, Tyrone nodded and slowly sat down on a bench opposite the priest, wondering and curious by the tone of voice the priest was using, as if trying to break a news that would somehow tore at his heart. A slight shiver of fear slid down his skin, a foreboding feeling crept up in his heart and he prayed that it wasn’t about the Holy Bishop Lazos.

But it was not so, the news that was given to him was far greater than he could ever imagine. If his dark skin could only pale, it would have paled to ghostlike pallor right then and there, but it could not. The dark achadhiel was stunned to muteness, his eyes large with profound alarm and he found himself mid-way between standing and sitting down. “I----" The monk began, his rasping voice breathy and quivering, slumping dejectedly upon the bench once more. “I---“ He began once more but couldn’t seem to continue, the priest suddenly seeing the pure innocence of the achadhiel before him, suddenly understanding that the young monk before him knew not the political intrigue that beset the divided church of Dominicus, an innocent lamb, as if the dark achadhiel was now an orphaned boy, lost with no path given to him.

"How---" Tithes? I do not understand!

"I---" Greed?

“Why---“ Tithes? I do not know! I am scared! Lord, where are you?! Can't you not hear the voice of my pleading?

Father Marcus could clearly see the profound fear that was purely etched upon the gray eyes of the dark achadhiel, the panic and terror that was slowly forming within his mind. He saw the shivering young monk stood up, his eyes frowning, quivering, glazed with a distant look of loss and fear. He turned seemed to be looking everywhere, as if he was trapped, looking for a place to get out but couldn’t seem to locate where it was.

Panic!

“LORD!” The jackal suddenly wailed out loud with a wrenching loss and grief in his voice, unable to bear the news the gentle father had given him. “WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN US!” He then tore at his clothes and pulled his hair out, tears streaming down his fearful eyes as he knelt before the priest and ritually battered his head upon the floor with such a lethal force.

“Forgive my sins... Forgive my sins... Forgive my sins...”

The priest heard the dark achadhiel murmuring the same phrase over and over again as if a mantra that would save him from the news he had heard as he continuously battered his head upon the floor and tore at his hair, weeping loudly.
[size=75]Avatar from:[url=http://artofphilwohr.blogspot.com/2007/08/redmist-castle-work.html]Phil Wohr[/url]
[hr][/hr]
[i][b]"Hate thy neighbours for they hate you even more."[/i][/b]
[hr][/hr]
Posting: Once/week[/size]
Ashari
Moderator & Coordinator Mer Cities
Posts: 4125
Joined: Mon Dec 30, 2002 11:31 pm
Location: Anachronism

Post by Ashari »

"Our Lord will not give us burdens that are too difficult to shoulder. Think upon the story of Johan travelling the dunes of Terra Incognita," Father Marcus took a deep breath.

"As says Johan 6:2;
And I walked a path from sin
toward the Light of our One Father, Dominicus,
and from His word I ate
and of His power I drank
when times of life were well;
and it was then I saw His footprints.

But in times of sorrow
I travelled alone.
So when I came upon the Lord,
His voice coming from Divine Heavens
I asked of Him,

"Dear Lord, I promised You my undying conviction,
and when my soul is troubled,
I see I walk alone.
Where are You?"

And the Lord replied:
"In those times I carried you."
and I asked unto Him
his forgiveness.


Which the Lord did grant - for He understands our peril, our doubt.. our greed. Brother Tyrone, you have travelled Johan's path through the desert. The One, Blessed be His Grace, protected you. He carried you, and he brought you home to us. Pray with me, Tyrone... pray that the Prodese of World's Mouth turns away from their heresy- their infidelity to the One Lord," Father Marcus placed his hand on the back of the achadhiel's head in hopes of inspiring his conviction and enflaming him to join their rightous cause. He felt a surge of elation himself, his own passion for Dominicus lighting his way.

Story of Johan inspired the many versions of Footprints Poem, one of which can be found there by Mark Hargrave.
[color=#000000][i]"What of the soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?"[/i]
-- Robert Browning. [/color][size=75][i]Avatar by: [url=http://vyrl.deviantart.com/]vyrl[/url][/i][/size]
Tyrone
The Jackal
Posts: 152
Joined: Sat Feb 02, 2008 7:36 am
Location: Kings Court

Post by Tyrone »

His mind was a dark place of utmost fear and deep panic, and there, Tyrone drowned. Never had he felt this so alone and he was deeply petrified of it, feeling himself sinking deeper and deeper until this gnawing terror consumed him utterly, choking him, bringing him nearer to the brink of madness.

“Forgive my sins…. Forgive my sins…”

Then you shall have another name; henceforth you will also be called as the Jackal. Like a ghost, the voice and the images of his abbots from his monastery filled his mind, their voices hollowed and echoing within the depthness of his mind as if coming from a very distant place, reminding him of the day when he took the holy vow of obedience and embraced the teachings of his Order, the Purificatio and the laws of God which was written by Ustus, His Prophet and servant. For you shall purge Tazlure off the blood of your sins like a jackal hunting its prey. And when you are ready for the purification, Tazlure shall be cleansed anew. It was that promise that he held fast, a promise that Tazlure shall be purged a new into the Kingdom of the One God, and like a child, he was brought up to the doctrines of the One God, to follow its priests and its canon to the letter, the laws and precepts set by the Holy Prophet Ustus to the chosen people of Dominicus, the abbots of his monastery shielding him away from the politics of the Church, an innocent, a sacrificial lamb to the altar of the One God.

“Forgive my sins… Forgive my sins…”

And it was a profound blow to his innocent mind upon hearing that the church, that the Holy Mother Church, the center focal point of his life, was torn asunder by political intrigue and greed. Was this a punishment? A punishment for the sins of Tazlure, for his sins and iniquities? That the Holy mother church* is also sinning against the Holy One Eye? He couldn’t accept that fact, his mind rearing away from such heresy! The Holy Mother Church is inviolate, pristine and immaculate! So it was him then, his sins, he had neglected his duties and slowly, he gnawed at his teeth and pulled at his hair, feeling alone, an orphan, unguided, with no path. For with the separation of the Prodessean Church from the Mother Church, his path was taken from him.

Why?! He cried out loud, pounding his fist as tears continued to stream down his dark cheeks, remembering the dozen dark figures of his monk brothers in the Order of the Purificatio and the holy abbots who had reared him from childhood, seeing them leaving him, turning their back on him. Why hast thou left me here, alone? He wept bitter fecund tears. Yet in the darkness of his mind a small light appeared, as if from a distant place he heard a soft gentle voice, beckoning…

Father Marcus wrote:...But in times of sorrow
I traveled alone.
So when I came upon the Lord,
His voice coming from Divine Heavens
I asked of Him,"

"Dear Lord, I promised You my undying conviction,
and when my soul is troubled,
I see I walk alone.
Where are You?"


The voice was distant still too far away, but there was a familiarness to the words that were uttered. The Jackal knew those words that were being said and to those words, he held on to them, like a raft that can save him from drowning.

Father Marcus wrote:And the Lord replied:
"In those times I carried you."
and I asked unto Him
his forgiveness.


Yes, he knew those words by heart.

Like a babe soothed by a mother’s lullaby, Tyrone slowly rose from the terror and panic that seized him. Breathing ruggedly, tears streaming down his cheeks, snot trickling down his nose and his unwashed, oily strands of hair falling over his face, the young monk looked up at the priest, neither embarrassed nor ashamed of what had happened to him, his eyes, although troubled, was shining once more fanatically, a small hint of hope on it. He could not understand the greed of the Prodessean Church, nor their heresy, for the Jackal did not care for money, it was the lack of guidance, the lack of purpose that frightened him, that with the separation of the Prodesse Diocese, his purpose and his destiny would be separated from him, that his iniquities and his sins should not be forgiven and that the redemption of Tazlure should not happen.

“Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed.” Taking the hem of Father Marcus’ robe, the young novice monk kissed them reverently and prayed out loud, siezing the nearest redepmtion he could take. With fervent zeal, he abashed himself before the priest and cried out, “Command me, Holy Father, let not my will but the will of Dominicus be done! Give me my purpose!” But what of the Prodessean Church? The abbots of his order was his superiors, he should go back to them and report. But, did he not take the vow of obedience, not only to follow the precepts, laws and Canon set by Ustus the Prophet of the Lord, but also to obediently follow all the priests and servant of the lord? Here was a servant of the Lord God, Dominicus, and his promise was to obey the precepts of the One Church, whatever law it may be.

Then and there, his heart was settled.
[hr][/hr]
*Author’s note: Tyrone is talking about the Holy Mother Church as a whole, not yet separated.
Last edited by Tyrone on Wed Oct 08, 2008 9:13 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Ashari
Moderator & Coordinator Mer Cities
Posts: 4125
Joined: Mon Dec 30, 2002 11:31 pm
Location: Anachronism

Post by Ashari »

"The One welcomes you, child... be at peace," Marcus consoled. "You are healed in His eyes.. you are saved. You are forgiven, now rise," he commanded, and in doing so removed his soothing hand.

"Make a vow to the One Lord, brother - to follow Him and not be tainted by the greed of others, of your countrymen, and to instead give yourself over to the Holy Church and her guidance.

As he made this request the acolyte returned with simple gray robes, much like those he himself wore, atop of which there was a bowl of some sort of stew-like substance and several pieces of bread. "Father?" He squeaked out, and Marcus just motioned him forward.

"Eat of Him, brother. Drink of His power and be comforted in His acceptance of you, and in Him saving you from the desolate loneliness that awaits those of World's Mouth when they are banished to the Nether where they belong!" Marcus retrieved the bowl and gave him the bowl. "Give thanks, and dress, and I shall return in a fiveburn once I've seen whether or not the Bishop can see you yet.

To the acolyte he continued. "Come with me," and the pair departed the dark achadhiel's company to give him some measure of privacy for consuming his meal and changing from his tattered robes. Those he'd been given were much softer than his usual fair, but also very simple and keeping with his style of poverty.
[color=#000000][i]"What of the soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?"[/i]
-- Robert Browning. [/color][size=75][i]Avatar by: [url=http://vyrl.deviantart.com/]vyrl[/url][/i][/size]
Tyrone
The Jackal
Posts: 152
Joined: Sat Feb 02, 2008 7:36 am
Location: Kings Court

Post by Tyrone »

At peace for a moment, the young monk novice gravely watched the priest and the acolyte depart, stains of his tears were clearly etched upon his weathered, dusty, gaunt face.

Alone. Would he be forever alone, separate from his brothers of the Prodessean Church? A gnawing fear fiercely crept upon his heart once more, but he banished them away with a resolute belief that the One God would guide his path, perhaps, guiding the Diocese of World's Mouth back to the One Church? But he could not understand the heresy of his fellow brothers. Were they damned to the Nether? Such theological thoughts churned upon his head and he could not ponder the right answer. Do they not pray to the only One God, just as the Church of King's Court pray to the same One?

His vow was to the One God alone? Would this schism hinder his vow to the Lord God? These were question that the young Jackal could not answer.

Gravely, he focused his attention to the simple robe that was given to him. Slowly, he reached for it and felt the soft fabric of the cloth. If I changed my robe, would my faith in the Lord change as well? With a great sigh, he opened his weathered, tattered Purificatio robe and pulled it off and reverently folded it. With loving tenderness, he caressed the weathered robe, remembering the abbots, his fellow brother monks and the cloistered monastery that took him and shown him the true path to salvation. I would send them a letter tonight, he decided. It was his duty.

With another grave sigh, he took the clean, gray robe and began to dress and quite famished, he broke a piece of the bread and dipped it upon the stew, piously asked for the blessing of the One God and started chewing, his mind churning once more of the news he had learned and how it would affect his days to come.

Perhaps through the Holy Bishop Lazos, the Lord God shall give me my purpose.

There, inside the room, alone once more, he waited and thought of his sins and iniquities.
[size=75]Avatar from:[url=http://artofphilwohr.blogspot.com/2007/08/redmist-castle-work.html]Phil Wohr[/url]
[hr][/hr]
[i][b]"Hate thy neighbours for they hate you even more."[/i][/b]
[hr][/hr]
Posting: Once/week[/size]
Ashari
Moderator & Coordinator Mer Cities
Posts: 4125
Joined: Mon Dec 30, 2002 11:31 pm
Location: Anachronism

Post by Ashari »

The Bishop was still deep in prayers. He'd been asking for Dominicus' assistance in the matter of the throne. Dear One Lord, giveth us the answer - for we are lost with out you... without your touch and your hand to guide us! Who are we but small creatures? Give over to us a sign, Knock! On the other side of the door Brother Marcus' voice sounded muffed and far away, but he made the best of it. "Bishop, I am in desperate need of your aid!" He called through the heavy wooden door, and Lazos saw him in so that they could speak privatetly. The acolyte who was with him was ushered away - off to the confessional to once again relay his story to his friend, and to any ears listening.

After a few burns Marcus came out of the Bishop's private study and sought out Tyrone again. When he found him he was supping his bread. "Do you feel stronger, my brother?" He asked him, taking up to his side. "Might you let me bandage your wound before we visit the Bishop?" The bleeding had stopped, but it was still tender and would easily give over to infection without the care of the thoughtful healer.
[color=#000000][i]"What of the soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?"[/i]
-- Robert Browning. [/color][size=75][i]Avatar by: [url=http://vyrl.deviantart.com/]vyrl[/url][/i][/size]
Tyrone
The Jackal
Posts: 152
Joined: Sat Feb 02, 2008 7:36 am
Location: Kings Court

Post by Tyrone »

Time passed indefinitely for the young dark achadhiel, his musing deep, the religious dilemma that was facing him tore his heart asunder and he could not decide, nor could not take another step, for two paths divide in front of him. He was divided, akin to the division that was happening to the One Church of Dominicus. Why would the Lord permit such occurrence? But he would not judge the actions nor the decisions of the Prodessean Church? How could Tyrone? He was just a lowly novice monk, a lowly creature sunk in iniquities. The Lord God shall be the judge and it will be up to Him, for His wisdom is far greater than the wisdom of men.

Fearing the sin of Gluttony, the young monk took only a single morsel of the bread and judged it enough to satisfy him even when he could keenly feel the hunger and the starvation eating him away. Let these loaves of bread feed the hungry, for surely, they need it more. With a heavy weariness, the toils of his pilgrimage and travels catching up on him, he was about to push the bread away when the gentle priest entered the room. Quickly, showing his profound respect to the holy office that the priest was carrying, the young monk stood up, still uncomfortable with the new gray robe he was wearing.

He had forgotten his wound, it had throbbed painfully before but compared to the pain that he felt inside his heart for the betrayal of the Prodessean Church, it was of no importance. "The pain is bearable, Father. It is a sacrifice that I lovingly take for the glory of the One God and the salvation of my sin." He couldn't understand the painstaking care and comfort that was being given to him and he felt deeply ashamed and embarrassed by it. The young monk tugged his sleeves lower, hiding his wounded wrist inside and with a solemn, pious nod, he replied once more. "The bread has given me nourishment and I have prayed deeply and it will give me the strength and the spiritual nourishment that I sorely need."

Focusing his attention back to the table, he slowly gestured, letting Father Marcus see that he had indeed sampled but a little morsel of the bread and touched but a small portion of the stew. "Perhaps the famished and the starving children of Dominicus need these nourishments more than I do? The word of the Lord has sustained me and nourished me throughout my pilgrimage and that is enough for me."

"Pray tell, Father Marcus?" The jackal politely inquired. "Will the Holy Bishop Lazos give me an audience or should I wait further? And will you also permit me to have a few words with Brother Anistis I saw earlier yonder the confessional booth? There are some things I need to talk with him before I have an audience with the Bishop Lazos."
Last edited by Tyrone on Sun Oct 12, 2008 5:38 pm, edited 1 time in total.
[size=75]Avatar from:[url=http://artofphilwohr.blogspot.com/2007/08/redmist-castle-work.html]Phil Wohr[/url]
[hr][/hr]
[i][b]"Hate thy neighbours for they hate you even more."[/i][/b]
[hr][/hr]
Posting: Once/week[/size]
Ashari
Moderator & Coordinator Mer Cities
Posts: 4125
Joined: Mon Dec 30, 2002 11:31 pm
Location: Anachronism

Post by Ashari »

"Quite interesting you mention Anistis.. he had sought me in helping him to see the Bishop Lazos as well," Father Marcus mused. "If you are nourished and satisfied, then go and find him. When you are done conferring meet me in the annex outside the Bishop's private suite. I shall take you in to see him then. He had several other prayers to do before being ready for your audience. He has to.. of course.. take the advise of Dominicus in all things," Marcus said while picking up the remnants of Tyrone's meal.

"I left Anistis by the confessional, he's likely still there if you go search him out." Marcus gave Tyrone a one-armed hug in parting, holding fast to his shoulder with a firm hand. "Be strong, brother... The Bishop will hear your prayers and help you find your path again."

OOC: Moving onto Confession and Codex.
[color=#000000][i]"What of the soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?"[/i]
-- Robert Browning. [/color][size=75][i]Avatar by: [url=http://vyrl.deviantart.com/]vyrl[/url][/i][/size]
Ashari
Moderator & Coordinator Mer Cities
Posts: 4125
Joined: Mon Dec 30, 2002 11:31 pm
Location: Anachronism

Post by Ashari »

SKILLS:

Anistis
NEW SKILL! Knowledge [Basilica Dominici]: Basic


Azure
Etiquette: +**

Tyrone
Pray: +**
Mantra: +*
Vestments [Dominicus]: +**
NEW SKILL! Native Craft [Self-Flagellation]: basic
NEW SKILL! Knowledge [Basilica Dominici]: basic
[color=#000000][i]"What of the soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?"[/i]
-- Robert Browning. [/color][size=75][i]Avatar by: [url=http://vyrl.deviantart.com/]vyrl[/url][/i][/size]
Locked

Return to “KC Archive”