Arnholt passed the city gates walking humbly, like a monk. He continued on that way for another block or two down the street. At that point he tossed back his hood and cast off the persona of "Brother Bart" like a snake shedding its skin. The big man's gait changed to his usual, confident swagger, and he continued on down the unfamiliar streets of World's Mouth grinning like the cocky bastard that he was.
With his hood cast back and his cloak trailing open behind him, Arnholt didn't look very holy at all, any more. He looked like exactly the sort of guy whose bag should have been searched and who, indeed, should have been asked what the hell he was doing with a lot of knives and a spyglass and about fifty feet of rope on his person. But he had to admit... Arnholt had sort of liked playing at being a monk, if only for a little while. Hell. If things had worked out only a tiny bit differently way back when, the disguise might have been the reality. But now Arnholt's faith in Dominicus was tattered almost beyond recognition. And despite his native cynicism, he just didn't have it in him to become the kind of cleric who spouted off a lot of bullshit about a God he didn't particularly like or believe in.
He would rather do work that he did believe in. Such as robbing houses, perhaps. Or punching people in the face for money.
Time for that later, though. There was a whole shitload of things he would need to do before going into business here. Scout the lay of the land, for one thing. Find out who the big and the little players were in the local underworld. Then he could worry about finding a job and a place to stay for the long haul. And of course he wanted to do some tourist stuff, too, like seeing the Abbey of the Compassionate Heart and visiting that Elf tavern. For now, first thing's first. What visit to the World's Mouth would be complete without seeing the Prodesse Dominicus?
The place should be easy to find, he supposed. And he was really looking forward to it, too, because he'd heard it was a damn fine sight to see. Anyway, all churches had this much at least to recommend them: almost invariably, they were a nice, quiet place to sit and think things over. Without having to worry about getting jumped for looking like an out-of-towner while he looked over his map. A map that Arnholt fondly hoped would be worth a damn. He'd bought it from old Tetch upon learning that World's Mouth was his new destination. The ship's mate had sworn up and down that it was up to date and all, but it would be next to no surprise for Arnholt if it turned out that was a fat lot of bullshit.
And so, shrugging his pack into a more comfortable position on his shoulders, Arnholt set out in what he hoped was the right direction.
Places to Go, Things to Do (Chyril 22nd, TT)
Map or no map, the Prodesse Dominicus was almost impossible to miss. It sat within Highton, the high city center at the middle of town, protected by the old walls that marked the town's limit countless generations ago. A great cathedral measuring over a thousand paces long, the Prodesse was both a monument of architectural pride as well as religious. With its high, narrow towers pointing regally into the sky and it's carved statues and pillars that decorated every face of the magnificent building, the citizens of the city spared no expense to express their deep spirituality to the One with such a magnificent construction.
No buildings were built within a hundred paces of the structure, and few were built that close, for the grounds surrounding the church were as austere as the building itself. Paths of carefully cut stone wound around fountains and gardens, each tended carefully by those that sought to earn the One's favor or blessings. Trees, a rare sight within the city itself, were planted and maintained, giving the grounds an almost lush appearance yet never blocking the view to the great cathedral's glory. The highest point of the city was at the top of one of the cathedral's high parapets, a point topped with the holy symbol of the religion.
And the doors, famous for never being locked, were just that. Visitors came and went at all hours, travelers in need of spiritual guidance, holy inspiration, or just a hot meal. The church never closed its doors, a policy of the current Archbishop, and one that lived today. People wandered in and out, some just gawking, others moving with purpose.
The building was as impressively vertical within as it was without. All its pillars, vaultings and soaring arches conspired to draw the viewer's gaze upward, as if to contemplate Dominicus himself in his seat on high. If ever there were a building designed to be the house of a god, this was it. Despite this, its interior was somewhat austere. The floor was tiled with interlocking slabs of white and black marble, much like a kemn board.
The ecclesiastical structures in the cities of the Western Kingdom, such as Arnholt's home King's Court, were far grander, liberally adorned with golden gilt and paintings of scenes from the Book of the One. Here, in the spiritual heart of the newly Free City of World's Mouth, there were no distractions from the stark beauty of the vertiginous stonework except possibly the muted glow of the pastel-shade stained glass windows. The thinking, presumably, was that Dominicus had far more important things to do with his time than gawk at extravagant frivolities when he was at home.
No buildings were built within a hundred paces of the structure, and few were built that close, for the grounds surrounding the church were as austere as the building itself. Paths of carefully cut stone wound around fountains and gardens, each tended carefully by those that sought to earn the One's favor or blessings. Trees, a rare sight within the city itself, were planted and maintained, giving the grounds an almost lush appearance yet never blocking the view to the great cathedral's glory. The highest point of the city was at the top of one of the cathedral's high parapets, a point topped with the holy symbol of the religion.
And the doors, famous for never being locked, were just that. Visitors came and went at all hours, travelers in need of spiritual guidance, holy inspiration, or just a hot meal. The church never closed its doors, a policy of the current Archbishop, and one that lived today. People wandered in and out, some just gawking, others moving with purpose.
The building was as impressively vertical within as it was without. All its pillars, vaultings and soaring arches conspired to draw the viewer's gaze upward, as if to contemplate Dominicus himself in his seat on high. If ever there were a building designed to be the house of a god, this was it. Despite this, its interior was somewhat austere. The floor was tiled with interlocking slabs of white and black marble, much like a kemn board.
The ecclesiastical structures in the cities of the Western Kingdom, such as Arnholt's home King's Court, were far grander, liberally adorned with golden gilt and paintings of scenes from the Book of the One. Here, in the spiritual heart of the newly Free City of World's Mouth, there were no distractions from the stark beauty of the vertiginous stonework except possibly the muted glow of the pastel-shade stained glass windows. The thinking, presumably, was that Dominicus had far more important things to do with his time than gawk at extravagant frivolities when he was at home.
[size=84][i]"She told me I had too much to dream last night..."[/i] - [i]Apprentice of the Universe[/i], Pure Reason Revolution
Avatar by [url=http://pixieface.deviantart.com]Liz Green[/url][/size]
Avatar by [url=http://pixieface.deviantart.com]Liz Green[/url][/size]
Arnholt gave a low whistle, staring up at the cathedral's impressive spires. For a moment he "framed" the spectacular image with his hands. Wish I had a painting of the place. He spent close to a mark just wandering around the place, looking at it from various angles, and hoping to spot a vendor hawking cheap drawings of the place and maybe some other souvenirs. The Prodesse Dominicus was a holy place, sure. But Arnholt suspected it wasn't quite so holy that no one would be willing to make a profit off the tourists who visited here.
Upon finally entering the building, the traveler spent a few burns just admiring the pillars and arches and the way they conspired to draw a visitor's attention to the heavens. He wasn't really disappointed by the temple's lack of any ostentatious display of wealth. Quite the opposite, in fact. The place has class. Heading further in to the temple, Arnholt made a bee-line for the altar, where he looked for a convenient place to drop to his knees in prayer, which he offered to Dominicus like a good little Oneist. Head down, hand over his heart, the whole bit. In here, he didn't add any of the sarcastic asides or insults that he tended to do while praying on his own.
This was the house of Dominicus after all. It was the time and the place to give Him His due. A guest in shouldn't disrespect his host in his own house, even if he was pretty much a complete bastard most of the time.
At length Arnholt rose, looking around for a donation box to drop a circlet into. After that, he figured he'd look for a friendly priest who would not be adverse to answering a question or two about his map, and who might be able to recommend a good place to get a meal and rest for the night.
(OOC: Hope I'm not trying to do to many things at once. For future reference, would be be preferable to spend one post looking for souvenirs, and wait until the next post to enter the cathedral, and so on?)
Upon finally entering the building, the traveler spent a few burns just admiring the pillars and arches and the way they conspired to draw a visitor's attention to the heavens. He wasn't really disappointed by the temple's lack of any ostentatious display of wealth. Quite the opposite, in fact. The place has class. Heading further in to the temple, Arnholt made a bee-line for the altar, where he looked for a convenient place to drop to his knees in prayer, which he offered to Dominicus like a good little Oneist. Head down, hand over his heart, the whole bit. In here, he didn't add any of the sarcastic asides or insults that he tended to do while praying on his own.
This was the house of Dominicus after all. It was the time and the place to give Him His due. A guest in shouldn't disrespect his host in his own house, even if he was pretty much a complete bastard most of the time.
At length Arnholt rose, looking around for a donation box to drop a circlet into. After that, he figured he'd look for a friendly priest who would not be adverse to answering a question or two about his map, and who might be able to recommend a good place to get a meal and rest for the night.
(OOC: Hope I'm not trying to do to many things at once. For future reference, would be be preferable to spend one post looking for souvenirs, and wait until the next post to enter the cathedral, and so on?)
(OOC: It very much depends, and there's no hard-and-fast rule... but what you've done here is fine. As long as not too many assumptions are made, I'm happy. 
)
Arnholt's hunch was correct. The Free City was nothing if not mercantile, and on the other side of the square, near a small coffee bar, a stand had been set up whose owner was trying to hawk small carved wooden replicas of the great building. There were a few crude charcoal images there, too. The workmanship of the little models was reasonable, if a little hurried - but then again there were about two dozen of the things on the stand. "Perfect for your shrine at home," the vendor informed an uninterested-looking dwarf, who ambled off.
The altar of the great cathedral was actually cordoned off from the rest of the church, so that it was impossible to approach within a few paces of it. But others were doing the same as Arnholt in front of the ropes, although whether they prayed with the same intensity was of course unknown. The reason for the protection was self-evident: the soaring silver candlesticks and silver gilt monstrance lying on the altar would have been worth far more than any collection box could hope to bring in in ten yahren.
Collection boxes there were, though, and priests, too. One skinny, black-haired specimen was watching the altar, gazing down past the countless rows of pews to the rose window at the entrance end of the nave. He smiled at Arnholt's approach. "Can I help you, my son?"
)
Arnholt's hunch was correct. The Free City was nothing if not mercantile, and on the other side of the square, near a small coffee bar, a stand had been set up whose owner was trying to hawk small carved wooden replicas of the great building. There were a few crude charcoal images there, too. The workmanship of the little models was reasonable, if a little hurried - but then again there were about two dozen of the things on the stand. "Perfect for your shrine at home," the vendor informed an uninterested-looking dwarf, who ambled off.
The altar of the great cathedral was actually cordoned off from the rest of the church, so that it was impossible to approach within a few paces of it. But others were doing the same as Arnholt in front of the ropes, although whether they prayed with the same intensity was of course unknown. The reason for the protection was self-evident: the soaring silver candlesticks and silver gilt monstrance lying on the altar would have been worth far more than any collection box could hope to bring in in ten yahren.
Collection boxes there were, though, and priests, too. One skinny, black-haired specimen was watching the altar, gazing down past the countless rows of pews to the rose window at the entrance end of the nave. He smiled at Arnholt's approach. "Can I help you, my son?"
[size=84][i]"She told me I had too much to dream last night..."[/i] - [i]Apprentice of the Universe[/i], Pure Reason Revolution
Avatar by [url=http://pixieface.deviantart.com]Liz Green[/url][/size]
Avatar by [url=http://pixieface.deviantart.com]Liz Green[/url][/size]
Arnholt wandered over to the vendor's stall himself, looking the goods over with his own best efforts at a show of disinterest. Of course on his part it was partly feigned on account of his hope of keeping the prices low. The charcoal drawings he decided to pass on, figuring they'd probably just smear right away in his bag. After a short while, though, he pointed out the model he liked best. "That one there. How much?" He'd probably buy the thing, if it wasn't selling for more than a couple of banners.
The crook in Arnholt had him arching an eyebrow at the impressive display of wealth at Dominicus' altar. He quickly forced it down again. Even if the One God's silver wasn't protected by high security around the clock (which in itself seemed doubtful), the big man had never yet seriously considered robbing a church. It was just one of those little moral scruple things: a line he was not prepared to cross, like drowning babies or whatever. Well, actually robbing churches didn't have a very prominent spot on the list of things Arnholt hoped never to do. But he'd still have to be fairly desperate to stoop to it.
The crook in Arnholt had him arching an eyebrow at the impressive display of wealth at Dominicus' altar. He quickly forced it down again. Even if the One God's silver wasn't protected by high security around the clock (which in itself seemed doubtful), the big man had never yet seriously considered robbing a church. It was just one of those little moral scruple things: a line he was not prepared to cross, like drowning babies or whatever. Well, actually robbing churches didn't have a very prominent spot on the list of things Arnholt hoped never to do. But he'd still have to be fairly desperate to stoop to it.
"I hope so, father," Arnholt told the scrawny priest, already unlimbering his bag to get out his map. "If you can spare a moment or two. See, I'm new to World's Mouth, and I figure if you can't trust a priest you can't trust nobody." He shot the man his friendliest smile. "I wanted to ask you if you could look over this map I bought real quick... maybe recommend me a place to stay."Collection boxes there were, though, and priests, too. One skinny, black-haired specimen was watching the altar, gazing down past the countless rows of pews to the rose window at the entrance end of the nave. He smiled at Arnholt's approach. "Can I help you, my son?"
For the bargain price of two banner, Arnholt was able to obtain a miniature wooden Prodesse Dominicus.
Eyes with deep blue-black bag under them inspected the map. "Yes," Alvares spoke in a reedy voice. "You seem to have done well with this map. A little old, but it has the main features. That," he pointed to a dense cluster of buildings in the West End, "isn't Sophus College any more, and that mill," his finger moved to another building on the opposite site of the map, "burned down, and... perhaps it isn't entirely accurate to call that whole area the Elf Quarter... but in general, you've made a solid purchase, son." This was the sort of advice that Father Alvares felt qualified to give. Not exactly asking for an audience with the Archbishop, is he?
"If you're looking for somewhere to stay..." He jabbed a thumb at a point very close to the Prodesse itself, which dominated the map just as it dominated the actual city. "The Flying Dortman would serve you well. It is well known as a welcoming inn for travellers, and the food there is excellent. Just off Rhoddam Square. You can't miss it." As he spoke, he stepped away from the map and used flint and tinder to light one of the myriad of candles that kept the interior of the cathedral illuminated.
Eyes with deep blue-black bag under them inspected the map. "Yes," Alvares spoke in a reedy voice. "You seem to have done well with this map. A little old, but it has the main features. That," he pointed to a dense cluster of buildings in the West End, "isn't Sophus College any more, and that mill," his finger moved to another building on the opposite site of the map, "burned down, and... perhaps it isn't entirely accurate to call that whole area the Elf Quarter... but in general, you've made a solid purchase, son." This was the sort of advice that Father Alvares felt qualified to give. Not exactly asking for an audience with the Archbishop, is he?
"If you're looking for somewhere to stay..." He jabbed a thumb at a point very close to the Prodesse itself, which dominated the map just as it dominated the actual city. "The Flying Dortman would serve you well. It is well known as a welcoming inn for travellers, and the food there is excellent. Just off Rhoddam Square. You can't miss it." As he spoke, he stepped away from the map and used flint and tinder to light one of the myriad of candles that kept the interior of the cathedral illuminated.
[size=84][i]"She told me I had too much to dream last night..."[/i] - [i]Apprentice of the Universe[/i], Pure Reason Revolution
Avatar by [url=http://pixieface.deviantart.com]Liz Green[/url][/size]
Avatar by [url=http://pixieface.deviantart.com]Liz Green[/url][/size]
Arnholt handed over the coins without argument, quite pleased with his purchase. Now at least he'd have something to remember the cathedral by if he ever got chased out of this city too. He took a burn to pack the little wooden model securely in his bag, padding it with some of his spare clothing. Then it was on into the Prodesse Dominicus.
"Oh... good," the big man remarked with some relief, as the priest inspected his map. Guess that Tetch was alright.
Arnholt watched attentively as the other man pointed out the map's few inaccuracies. None of those seemed like they were liable to result in him getting lost any time soon. He stared blankly for a flicker when the priest pointed out his suggested place of residence, at first thinking (disbelievingly) that the man was pointing out the cathedral itself. That wouldn't have done at all. Living close to the cathedral, on the other hand, was alright with Arnholt. That would make for a short walk when he wanted to attend services or just chat with a man of the cloth for a while.
"Flying Dortman, huh?" he echoed agreeably. "Hey, thanks, father. I'll probably be seeing you again sometime."
Arnholt retreated to the pews, plopping down for a few burns to look his map over in a bit more detail. World's Mouth was a big place. Seems like it would be easy to get lost in this city. Not to say that was always a bad thing. Sometimes a man needed to get lost. Anyway, in a city this big, there would for sure be someone who had use for Arnholt's talents. Come tomorrow he'd start looking for a job. For now, the traveler studied his map until he was sure he could get to the Flying Dortman without having to walk around with his face buried in the thing.
Stowing the map away, Arnholt rose to his feet and set out for the inn. Finding a job could wait for tomorrow, yeah. Making sure he'd have a roof over his head tonight, though, was not something he thought it would be wise to leave to the last minute. It might also be nice to get to to set his bag down somewhere relatively safe while he explored the city for a while longer.
"Oh... good," the big man remarked with some relief, as the priest inspected his map. Guess that Tetch was alright.
Arnholt watched attentively as the other man pointed out the map's few inaccuracies. None of those seemed like they were liable to result in him getting lost any time soon. He stared blankly for a flicker when the priest pointed out his suggested place of residence, at first thinking (disbelievingly) that the man was pointing out the cathedral itself. That wouldn't have done at all. Living close to the cathedral, on the other hand, was alright with Arnholt. That would make for a short walk when he wanted to attend services or just chat with a man of the cloth for a while.
"Flying Dortman, huh?" he echoed agreeably. "Hey, thanks, father. I'll probably be seeing you again sometime."
Arnholt retreated to the pews, plopping down for a few burns to look his map over in a bit more detail. World's Mouth was a big place. Seems like it would be easy to get lost in this city. Not to say that was always a bad thing. Sometimes a man needed to get lost. Anyway, in a city this big, there would for sure be someone who had use for Arnholt's talents. Come tomorrow he'd start looking for a job. For now, the traveler studied his map until he was sure he could get to the Flying Dortman without having to walk around with his face buried in the thing.
Stowing the map away, Arnholt rose to his feet and set out for the inn. Finding a job could wait for tomorrow, yeah. Making sure he'd have a roof over his head tonight, though, was not something he thought it would be wise to leave to the last minute. It might also be nice to get to to set his bag down somewhere relatively safe while he explored the city for a while longer.
"May you walk in the Light, son," Alvares blessed Arnholt in parting, returning to his candle-lighting duties.
The map was a maze of tiny streets and untidy districts... and in that it was a faithful representation of the Mouth itself. Getting from the Prodesse to Rhoddam Square, however, was a simple matter. The two central squares were linked by the massive Parade Street, an artery of traffic leading from the West End right out into the Seams.
(OOC: And I think we're done here. Feel free to start a new thread at the Dortman or to join an existing one - there's an active one for the 22nd ET. Locked for skilling!)
The map was a maze of tiny streets and untidy districts... and in that it was a faithful representation of the Mouth itself. Getting from the Prodesse to Rhoddam Square, however, was a simple matter. The two central squares were linked by the massive Parade Street, an artery of traffic leading from the West End right out into the Seams.
(OOC: And I think we're done here. Feel free to start a new thread at the Dortman or to join an existing one - there's an active one for the 22nd ET.
Locked for skilling!)[size=84][i]"She told me I had too much to dream last night..."[/i] - [i]Apprentice of the Universe[/i], Pure Reason Revolution
Avatar by [url=http://pixieface.deviantart.com]Liz Green[/url][/size]
Avatar by [url=http://pixieface.deviantart.com]Liz Green[/url][/size]