A Half Moon
“The Air was cool and soothing that night. Borel had been sweltering in the morning, a night of rain had left puddles all over the cobblestone roads. When the sun had burned away all gray out of the sky it made the afternoon hot and humid leaving everyone in a mess. Summer had been hard on Borel, and the seaside city was surrounded by water, causing the heat to collect. Many people were drenched in sweat the whole day, so that now as they walked in procession through the gate of the Temple of Pirsig, the calm cold stone of the building helped relieve one from the musty heat of the city.
Meredith wondered what magic they used to cause such a sensation and as she walked with the throng of people walking into the temple for the Lunar Mass. No apparent runes were present and her mind wondered if it was the architecture that helped the breeze into the building.
Meredith wore here explorer clothes which she bought to a sparkle with some rudimentary spells. She had put on her good cloak over them, to at least look to anyone else as someone simply going to enjoy the proceedings.
Meredith wondered what magic they used to cause such a sensation and as she walked with the throng of people walking into the temple for the Lunar Mass. No apparent runes were present and her mind wondered if it was the architecture that helped the breeze into the building.
Meredith wore here explorer clothes which she bought to a sparkle with some rudimentary spells. She had put on her good cloak over them, to at least look to anyone else as someone simply going to enjoy the proceedings.
The crowd had grown since she started to walk down Averling Avenue to Temple Street. Groups of people came in sporadically from all sides, huddled together. Some were devout followers wearing garbs of silver and purple, different heraldry showing the sigil of Pirsig, aquarter-moon shining with light all around it, an arrow between the 2 horns. Others just were going because it was the thing to do that night, since after the ceremonies there was to be a street festival and various cooks from all around were to show off there dishes. It was all to celebrate the harvest and the luck of the year before the fall came in. Walking up to the gate, many people hid their bottles of this wine or that liquor so as to celebrate in full spirit after the ceremony.
No matter the reason the procession began to quiet as the entered the second gate. People became somber and calm as they came in and had small hints of smiles on their face. Even Meredith noticed a pleasing smirk on her face. Enchanted she looked up at the tapestries that lined the walls leading to the open courtyard where they held the ceremony. Long woven think clothes they were, forty hands high to the roof and fifty to eighty hands long across. Each told talesof valiant and peaceful resolutions. Some told of war and others told of peace, all held within some lesson or another. One told of the great hunger that struck the southern land ofGrome and how a priestess of Pirsig helped the dwarves their learn to cultivate another type of crop. Yet another told of a small kingdom under siege by a mighty barbarian horde being defended by a small retinue of Paladins, who purged the land of the great threat. One thing was constant in all these pictographs: the heroes were anonymous. Many of their faces were covered in helmet or in shadows of cloak or just blurred. Anonymity was one of the key tenants of the Clerics of Pirsig, and this was shown even within their own church.
No matter the reason the procession began to quiet as the entered the second gate. People became somber and calm as they came in and had small hints of smiles on their face. Even Meredith noticed a pleasing smirk on her face. Enchanted she looked up at the tapestries that lined the walls leading to the open courtyard where they held the ceremony. Long woven think clothes they were, forty hands high to the roof and fifty to eighty hands long across. Each told talesof valiant and peaceful resolutions. Some told of war and others told of peace, all held within some lesson or another. One told of the great hunger that struck the southern land ofGrome and how a priestess of Pirsig helped the dwarves their learn to cultivate another type of crop. Yet another told of a small kingdom under siege by a mighty barbarian horde being defended by a small retinue of Paladins, who purged the land of the great threat. One thing was constant in all these pictographs: the heroes were anonymous. Many of their faces were covered in helmet or in shadows of cloak or just blurred. Anonymity was one of the key tenants of the Clerics of Pirsig, and this was shown even within their own church.
To each side of the Tapestries, one could see priestesses of Pirsig, nodding and smiling at the passersby. Many were dressed like the heroes of the Tapestry in simple clothes of white with silver trimmings. Each nodded and helped in the procession to the courtyard, all the while seemingly spreading and intensifying the cool clam that had befallen the church to all that entered.
