The Mountain
Log Info
- Title: The Mountain
- Emitter: Cryosanthia
- Characters: Cryosanthia, Bannon, Sabina, Murder
- Place: A10: Temple of Angoron
- Time: Wednesday, June 24, 2020, 12:33 PM
- Summary: Cryosanthia is visiting the Temple of Angoron and encounters Bannon, Sabina and Murder out front of the massive structure. Only Murder is an adherent, but the others know of him and the whitescale sith-makar wishes to clear up some misconceptions she has. She elaborates on what she has heard, softskin worship of Angoron involved games with an inflated piglet skin, female acolytes cheering and mudwrestling, and many, many, drinking games. Also, Angoron is known to take part in awkward transvestitism and visit women giving birth. The two humans and the goblin are first angry, then completely overwhelmed by laughter, and explain she has it wrong. Cryo goes on to explain the sith view of the diety, which is more in line with his actual qualities. Cryo decides to go in, roars her greeting, and Bannon and Murder depart. Lord Emp is scared off, but Sabina accompanies her sith friend inside, and joins her in prayer-dance.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* A10: Temple of Angoron *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Immense. Grand. The temple of Angoron encompasses all of these and yet surpasses them. Built into the mountain itself and yet left open to the sky, this immense place is structured as though by a massive hand. The three-quarter wall is composed of massive stone, carved so that it arcs upwards. The fourth wall and much of the ceiling is left open to the elements, which no child of the Hero should fear.
Massive drums, painted with symbols of victory and battle, line the partially covered area. When played, which is often, their heavy sounds reverbate off the walls before soaring into the heavens. The pitch is low and massive, and though while certainly PRESENT, it is not overwhelming. It is merely, at all times, THERE.
In the midst of the grand cavern lies a firepit in front of an altar, a place for boasts, talks, and friendship. The altar is in the shape of the great Earthbreaker, carved as though just striking the earth, and the firepit was the result of it. The temple itself lies within sight of the Altheans, the two gods sharing a unique bond. During the birth of a child, prayers are often sent to the warrior god, for strength and perseverance to this, the first test of strength to come into the world.
The floor of the temple is simple. There is no marble, no grand carvings: sand fills the simple needs of the warrior. The massive stone walls are carved, though hewn is a better word, in warrior symbols of all tribes and cultures. Alexandria's multicultural heritage shines here, with symbols reaching from as far away as Dran, depicted.
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing, in Order =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Cryosanthia 6'9" 267 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. Sabina 5'4" 130 Lb Human Female Tsuran woman of dark hair and green eyes Bannon 5'9" 195 Lb Human Male A shorter man of Tsuran heritage, with a thin moustace and goatee. Murder 3'6" 40 Lb Goblin Female A goblin woman in studded leather. =--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
It's been a busy time for Cryosanthia. The task she was set, to pray at the Temples of Light in the hopes her mark would be removed, was successful. Yet the sith-makar felt thanks was warranted also. So she continued her pettioning with gratitude, visting the Temples of Daeus and Althea again and still has plans for the remaining three she hasn't visited. Of course, there was some time spent talking with Sentinel Kira, regarding the prophesies Seldan received from the Deva at the Temple of Eluna, and some time thinking about them.
The prophesy, the song, was disturbing for her. Convoluted and strange, it made her worry about her estrangement with Zeke and her doubts regarding the Fae Queen's intereference in their relationship. A relationship she may have deliberately caused for some purposes. A concern that grew with the Deva identifying Zeke as holding the solution in his claws. Whatever that might mean.
The thoughts are pushed aside as Cryo stands in front of the Temple of Angoron. She hasn't met many Angorites that she's aware of, Toha perhaps being the only one. She's heard some things, which strike her as likely misconceptions she really wants to straighten out before she makes her appeal. She stands and stares like a tourist, leaning back and using her tail as a prop to get extra leaning, gazing upwards at the Temple face which seems hewn from the mountain itself, formed by hand and earthbreaker strike.
And the drums! Their rhythmic, ever present beat. It speaks to her deep in her body, the primative percussion that has demarked her life. Her training wells up, she wants to dance, must dance, and wishes again that proper instruments numbered among her possessions. The energy builds within her, and she looks around for someone to speak to. She has questions.
Bina watched Cryo head into the temple of Angoron with curriousity and that got the better of her so she followed along in a lazy fashion. Watched as the Sith inspected the place and is still doing so by the look of it.
Angoron's temple isn't exactly unknown to her. Her own Tarien faith having the unique connection to Angoron's after all. The two gods being lovers and companions does tend to help the earthly relations in the end.
Striding up quietly, bird on shoulder, Sabina stops ebside Cryo and hmms softly. "Well.. he is the god of boasting and competition. Childbirth always threw me off though. Him being male."
Always found in strange places, Bannon is exiting the Temple of Angoron as the others are making their way towards. He stops momentarily, eying the two and then tilting his head. He turns to approach them, his hand rising to wave, "Hello, you two." His eyebrow arches with curiousity, "Are you two here to boast, compete, or... Something else?"
"'Cos only the strongest get born. An' it's a fight to stay alive.", a Gobbo says, to Sabina. "That's why." Murder grins toothily at her, and looks Cryosanthia. "You're looking better, compared to the last time we met. Have you slain Salina?"
"Ha!" The whitescale nods, looking over at the silver-masked cleric. She makes a fluttering of her hand and an obeisance gesture towards the peacock, "Your forgiveness forever, Lord Emperor Indulgence."
She looks around, then down at Murder, "Ah, thanks. No, This one has not. Sir Seldan is still working on it."
Cryo rests her fists on her hips, hips which are already moving to the drum beats, and if the signs are good, that movement is going to spread to the rest of her. She tells the small group, "This one has heard things! Of how you call him, Angoron, is worshipped. Things she finds hard to believe."
"That he is like the Star Warrior of the youngling sports-ball games, chasing the inflated piglet on the griddle field, with the squads of female acolytes performing cheers, dances and athletic stacking. That his high holy days are not to be missed, with the burnt meat offerings, kegs of beer and feats of strength, such as wrestling of arms, wrestling, tug of war, and the mud-wrestlings, that reserved for the female acolytes. That pennance and atonement are time spent in the room of weights or on the spinning machine. Also that, in times of birth, he will come into the room with a wig and encouragments..."
Cryo bends her arm in a power pose, and grunts deeply and drawn out, "PUUUUSH!"
Relaxing, but fully swaying to the beat, the white sith asks, "Is this one wrong?"
Bina.. has no words. She stands there blinking at the taller woman with a sort of amasement apon her face. "What?" She asks in a near whisper, lost to the beats of the drums. "I'm sorry, Cryosanthia. All that is new to my ears?" She looks over to Bannon and waves and then to Murder she says. "Aye.. And it's the mother that pushes the child from the womb. Not Angoron or the child. Staying alive.. that I'll give you." She glances over at Cryo again. "And if some guy in a wig comes into the room while I'm giving birth I'd be screaming bloody murder and tossing things at him."
Bannon's eyes narrow as his jaw goes slack, watching Cryosanthia recount her knowings of the principles of Angorite worship. Every so often, he glances towards Sabina with a mix or curiousity and terror, looking back towards Cryosanthia as if drawn to viewing an airship crash. At the conclusion, his eyes widen and he emits a low and slow, "Uhhhhhhhhh."
He blinks, looking back over his shoulder, before he focuses on Sabina. With a tilt of his head, he asks, "Lady acolyte mud wrestling?" He then looks back to Cryosanthia and grins, "Well, you're not so far off as your might think?"
Murder stares at Cryosanthia wide-eyed and open-mouthed. "Pretty much everything you said is... just wrong. He values strength, and he certainly would be the strongest warrior, whether he were playing a sport or taking the field of battle." She rubs at her face and gives her head a shake. "Things are often several sheets to the wind, if you know what I mean, when it comes to celebrations. There are wild celebrations, certainly. But... I dunno who you asked about, or where you read all that stuff... but someone's taking the piss with you, yeah?"
The Gobbo looks to Sabina and nods, "Of course the mother gives birth... but she and the child work together. If the child doesn't want to come out... you will have problems. And no, Angoron doesn't help either the mother or the child. They have to be strong enough to do it themselves. Angoron is only present in the victory cry... the first cry of the newborn."
"So... not standing at the foot of the bed, with oiled up and in prime male virility, making power poses and saying, 'Check out these Pipes', and 'PUUUSH'" Cryo asks, nodding slowly and looking between Murder and Sabina, "This one thought it strange, but laying and birthing are different and did not want to presume."
The sith smiles at Bannon, mouth wide with teeth, "Mud wrestling is very popular in Am'shere, where the warriors train to pull others under and hold them until they drown. It is done for fun too. As a self-defense it did not strike me as strange."
"Bards, mostly, and some stories of the Crimson Pen." Cryo elaborates, "But there is still the drinking, the boasting, the telling of feats, the bouncing pebbles into ale steins?"
Bina looks back to Cryo and begins to snicker. A hand is brought up to cover her mouth as the chuckles come out and then the outright laughter follows quickly. "Oh my! Oiled up bodies posing? Screaming at the foot of your bed? How romantic!" She continues to laugh and laugh, loosing all of her composure. Soon enough she's crying from laughing so hard.
Bannon blinks one more time before he simply begins to shake his head, a laugh peeling up from within him. He looks towards Murder for a moment, shrugging, "Thanks for being the voice of reason, I guess?" He then looks back towards Sabina, then towards the peacock, "Imp, squawk some sense into this conversation, would you? Please and thank you."
Murder continues to stare at Cryosanthia. "Oiled up... at the foot of your bed... Angoron?" She tries very hard to maintain a surprised or disgusted look on her face, but the giggling and laughing from Sabina breaks the Gobbo, and she is soon on the ground, cackling madly. "Y.. y... no. Just no."
"This one apologizes, I had suspicions some lines were being fed." Cryo says. Her swaying has turned into a small dance on the spot, her arms involved, fingers clicking, her tail sweeping space. "He is different at home. Many of the things you say Murder, are the same. He is strength, protects the weak, comes to them in times of failing and tells them to try harder, hold on. Assures Nest-Mothers they can endure, the shells will hold. Do not worry. He is not intellectual, as a god, which is fine as we as a people are not much either. He is not without compassion, the kind that comes from having seen others fall. He is bravery. Hold strong. Do not falter. Do not break. Be the Wall. Others shall smash themselves on you."
"Our name for him is The Mountain. Like this," The whitescale sith raises her hands up, gesturing at the Temple in front of her, and while she is still dancing there was a strange sadness in some of her words, "the Wall of the World. Here. Not moving. That which stands and resists."
Emp peers one eye at Bannon and lets loose a one of his haunting crys before flapping wings nad heading off..away.. far away from the laughing humaniods. Especially far from his 'master'. His interjection his exit from the whole mess.
Bina manges to get herself mostly under control and removes the mask so she can pat the tears away. "Oh.. goodness me. That was funny. And your homeland's ideals sound more like the proper god that I've heard about, Cryosanthia."
Bannon grins, nodding to Sabina and then addings, "It doesn't sound too far from what I've heard in the Temple either." He then gestures over his shoulder with a pointed thumb, "Why don't we go further in and see for ourselves?"
The Gobbo goes still at the cry from the peacock, and she watches the delicious meal fly away, before sitting up and getting to her feet. "That is a closer vision of Angoron's true nature than what you first let on, Cryosanthia." She nods in agreement with Sabina. "This lady has the right of it. Angoron is not the caricature you spoke of in the beginning. He has a sense of humour, but also a sense of pride and dignity. He might humour someone... but he would never appear oiled up and striking poses. Okay... maybe he'd strike a pose..."
"Ok," The white sith says happily, "let me make my challenge so he knows I'm here."
Her dancing stops and she drops forward into a ready pose. To say she roars would understatate it. Cryosanthia puts her whole body into making the noise, completely tensing up. She pours into it a lot of frustrations she's held, things suppressed from her years in the tower. She screams. She screams so hard her hands turn into curled claws, her jaw drops and fills with wicked teeth that could take an arm off. Raw agony and rage erupts from her throat. Vocal and sounding chords thundering. A wave of cold washes out from her, the air around her mouth wavers. She's on the verge of her breath weapon going off. On top of this, her claws flick, light traces from her chest out her arms, and she gets even louder, her cantrip echoing her voice, seemingly a dozen of her. The volume of a lion, a small dragon.
CRYOSANTHIA >>>RRROAARRRS!<<<
The sound crashes into the mountain. A moment passes, and she is answered from the sith inside with roars of their own and a smattering of accompanying cheers.
She pants from the exhertion, claws and jaw returning to normal.
Sabina takes a step back at the unexpected Cryosanthia, startled. She's seen this woman attack others and it reminds her briefly of that time. When the roar continues on however, she relaxes.. a little. When the roar is answered back she sort of lets out a sigh and goes back to being normal bina. "That was.. powerful." she says in a partial squeek.
As the roar happens, Bannon takes a step back and tilts his head away, just in case the breath weapon does make an appearance. He lifts a hand up to cover his closest ear, lowering it only once the roaring stops. He looks over his shoulder towards the temple as other sith-makar roar their responses. He grins, turning to Cryosanthia and nodding, "Well, have fun with that." He offers a quick not to Sabina before he steps to the side and proceeds away from the temple and out about his day.
Murder squints at Cryosanthia as she sets up, and the Goblin's ears turn away from the noise. She seems suitably impressed. Though... "Others, in the past, including myself, have added elemental fury to their shouts. You should totally add your breath weapon to that. Angoron will notice that. Though, aim up as high as you can." She eyes Bannon's retreat, and giggles a little as he goes. "I think he's off to find a new pair of pants!"
"That felt good. I did not realize I was holding so much in." Cryosanthia says, returning to a normal stance and adjusting her clothes. She's not capable of blushing, if she were, she might. "I... have not practiced with my breath weapon. I was afraid letting it go would be dangerous. I should find some time."
The white sith has no comment for Bannon or regarding Bannon, but does him a defferential wave as he heads off. She looks at the other two women, rocking from side to side as she takes up the beat again, "Okay, let's go in."
The Gobbo grins to Cryosanthia. "I have already talked to Angoron today. So you two go ahead, I have a few errands to run. Shopping!" She grins toothily and offers a wave, before turning and heading off into the crowds.
Sabina blinks. "Is there more? I figured that your..er.. shout, would be like an offering? Or is there another part to this?" She offers Bannon a small smile and a wave. "See you later, Bannon." And then to Murder, "And you as well."
Suddenly alone with Cryo she turns back to the sith. "You're learning to get in touch with your emotions, I think. It's a good thing. Knowing them you know yourself."
"It's a part of it, although mostly my 'hello'," Cryo says, giving a nod to Murder as she departs, then looking back at Sabina, "I'm sorry I scared off Lord Emp. Normally, one would go inside and participate in what is going on. Worship is training, strength is being tested. This one would find something to do."
Her swaying is distracting, but to the sith, it seems not enough. Inspiration strikes, AnyGarment sleeves can make any clothes, her Speaker instruments are worn. Her swashbuckling garments vanish, she is wearing something more suitable for the jungle, or a hot and muggy Alexandria in summer. A light dancing shift that covers her mithral armour, but also, bells. Hollow wooden tubes on both sides of her hips, noisemakers that clack. Slats on the side of her tail, with matching partners on her shins. She will slap. Finally, castanets.
NOW she answers the drums, with a solid tail thumping that echoes the rhythm back, punctuated by the swing of her hips, the snap and slap as kicks her tail and finally the jingling of bells as she clacks the castanets. She incorporates it all into a dance.
Her forward progress is slow, but she looks good, sounds good. Her grin is wide, she is happy, "Let's go in!"
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls perform/dance: (7)+15: 22 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls perform/percussion: (18)+15: 33
Sabina is happy enough to follow along in Cryo's wake. The sith's happiness makes her smile and so she follows as observer to the other's joy and thankfulness on this trip to the temple. Emp is not too far off, watching this new side of Cryo. The dancing strut with precussion. Bina instead nods to each person they pass, grinning at Cryo's earned applause and bright comments.
Cryosanthia seems to be genuinely enjoying herself. There are drummers, there are dancers, and as a sith-makar Speaker, this is something she does. It's not hard to find something to participate in, and all of them are energetic. There's not a lot of talking going on, the exertion levels are too high.
There is some wrestling, despite all the denying, although the whitescale stays with the drummers and dancers, doing her cheerleading. As far as prayers go, what does one ask the Mountain for, Angoron for? Strength. It's not even necessary to voice it. Being present, being involved, is enough. Her appeal is her dance and she finds herself straining into the workout. It's good, it feels real good.
She grins at Sabina, "C'mon! Dance with me!"
Bina laughs and then shrugs to herself. Stepping forward she becomes a part of Cryo's dance by dancing about Cryo herself. Movement is the key for Sabina. The movement, traveling. These things are Tarien's and so she throws herself in to Tarien's role of companion, trying to add to Cryo's dance and to make her shine as brightly as possible.
"Yes, that's it!" Cryo says, as Tarien, no, Sabina moves in to be the Tarien to her Angoron. She flickers her tongue out at her, and in a growly voice with a wide grin says, "PUUUUUSH!" She spins around and her tail clack-wacks her shins.
Jingling bells, rattling hips, the solid thump-thump-thump of her tail and the castanet clack. She casts continually, becoming a light show, with additional noises surrounding and blending into the rhythm. She dances. A part of the temple, a part of the song. Embodying her earlier words.
Be strong. Be the Wall. Let others smash themselves on you.
Pull the shards together, be unbroken, be whole.
Be the Tower.
