Temple of Tyr RP

[Obvious_Illusion]

There has been much activity at the Temple of Tyr as of recent.

Since 19 Mirtul 1360, Lady Terragona the Flame of the Just, a Justice Archon, has been a guest of the Temple of Tyr. With a head crowned by long, fiery, golden hair, Terragona stands for over two metres tall. Her piercing, golden gaze shows an unyielding attitude towards all it meets. From her back spread feathery wings which seem to be made of literal fire.

Terragona has been inspiring faith in the Triad across Baldur's Gate, while the faithful of the Triad and the Order of the Radiant Heart prepare for calamity.

And on 2 Kythorn 1360 DR, a remembrance of the Just Dead and for Sir Halvard Stonevik was held at the Temple of Tyr.

A transcript provided by Edelgarde, Guide of Candlekeep:

[The sermon was delivered by Abbot Eldric Sulnar]

We gather on this evening, Oh Just Tyr, to remember all those which perished. Those that have given their lives for the safety of all. Those that put Justice and Fairness as a cause worth laying their lives upon. But unlike every evening, tonight we wish to remember a man, a knight, a paladin, who with zeal, unwavering courage and righteous wrath, had perished. Striking a mortal blow against a foe most terrible.

Let his life be a reminder for us, an inspiration, that even against a darkness most evil and terrible, there can be no fear. There can be no tears. No running away. Only Justice. Righteousness. Bravery. Unwillingness to back down against anything the uncaring and the cruel put against us, in our daily lives as well as great challenges.

Along with him, let us remember all those that have died for safety of Baldur's Gate. Every Fair and Just soldier, warrior, knight, noble and beggar. The righteous guards and those called criminals by all evil, persecuted for their fair and good heart.

Let us remember Thedran Asen.
Let us remember Eric Lightbringer.
Let us remember Priest Olwyn of Torm.
Let us remember Thomas of Torm.
Let us remember Jackard Felts of Helm.
Let us remember Revered Father Marcus of Ilmater.
Let us remember Alexander Holgart.
And let us remember all those unnamed, who perished in wars and conflicts against forces of Evil, Misery and Destruction, giving their lives so that we may live in a brighter future.

And a song:

[As the Abbot raises his hands, the Chanters begin to sing in unison. The Archon Lady Terragona, the Flame of the Just, joins the chanters voices]

Rest mighty and meek,
For your time is at an end.
Sheathed are your weapons,
Lowered are your hands.

The struggles you've endured,
The pain you have suffered.
Know that we breathe,
Live and remember.

Rest, mighty and meek,
For your vigil is now done.
The wrongs you have righted,
The lives that you brightened,
All will remain.

The days of sorrow,
The nights of tears,
They descend on us.
While your spirit soars,
We together weep.

In the House of Triad,
The hallowed Halls of Just
Your greatest fate now lies.
Remember those you loved
And saved as we remember you.

[The Abbot begins to conduct a wordless chant. After the next five minutes of the chanting pass, the singers bring the song to an end.]

Tyr, Torm, Ilmater. Into your hands we offer the souls of the Just, the Righteous, the Merciful and The Forgiving. We humbly beseech you to grant them peace and happiness, ever at your sides, in the Seven Heavens of Celestia.

[The Abbot invokes a Bless spell upon all that gathered within the temple]

Thank you all for coming here. The loss of our brother in faith was sudden, but it must not deter us from what is important. Trust. Honesty. Honour. Righteousness. Remember them and try to do your best to bring it in your lives to all you meet.
Go with blessings of the Triad.

(Image courtesy of Eien)

---

OOC: Steve has handed me the reigns of this thread, and I've made some updates to the initial post outlining the faith, church membership, and adding a section to memorialise dead PCs and list retired/away PCs. Please get in touch with me if you'd like me to add your PC or acknowledge a previous PC in the retired list.

[Obvious_Illusion]

Beyond Vhaan de Luca's regular preaching across the streets of Baldur's Gate, the Sword of Tyr spends the entirety of his waking hours visiting the other Triadic temples, focusing his prayer, practicing his swordplay, and supporting Abbot Eldric Sulnar and the rest of the clergy with the daily going-ons of the temple. His waking hours are numerous, and the Tyrran appears restless, yet determined in the face of the threat of the Vile Darkness rearing its ugly head.

Vhaan has not left Baldur's Gate in many a tenday; his sole focus is devoted to tending his faith in the city. The Tyrran's days as an itinerant priest traversing the lawless frontier of the Western Heartlands are truly over. It appears he has a newfound purpose, and in this, he has grown much more stern and unyielding; no doubt greatly influenced by Terragona, the Flame of the Just's miraculous and zealous presence.

In the wake of the many newcomers drawn to the Temple of the Just God - a result of the Justice Archon's appearance and Vhaan's own sermons across the city - the Sword of Tyr also spends his time patiently guiding and teaching those visiting and joining the temple as acolytes and templars. He teaches of the Triad's virtue, of the Even-Handed God's forbearance, order, mercy, and above all, Justice.

And the Revered Sister Ashenie Darakh of the Sisterhood of Saint Jasper of the Rocks may also be seen visiting the Hallowed Halls of the Just God. Together, the pair solemnly pray at the memorial of Sir Halvard Stonevik, and speak of how they might honour the sacrifices he made, and his resolve in facing the horrors of the realms.

Against an unfolding threat to Baldur's Gate, the righteous champions of order and virtue must shine as beacons.

[Obvious_Illusion]

A desperately exhausted Vhaan de Luca dutifully tends to the Temple. Since the rift was opened - and closed - those close to him might notice that he appears more impatient and less candid; a sense of broken resolve, and occasional mention about being wary of the deceptions of others. The Tyrran's waking hours are focused on priestly rituals, public preaching, assisting the clergy, and training templars in preparation.

The temple is visited by Charisa Flomeigne, Scion of Siamorphe, and the pair have a private discussion in the consultation room. Since that visit, the Sword of Tyr appears somewhat more calm.

And then on another day, a Tyrran man by the name of Gyin Adoguid meets with Vhaan de Luca to discuss the safety of the city and offer his aid. He requests Gyin to keep watch of the streets - to aid, but also monitor the City Watch and report back anything strange that is observed - to ensure that order prevails, and that anarchy shall have no quarter in the fair city of Baldur's Gate.

[Obvious_Illusion]

"I believe in mortals. In their hearts. In their ability to choose Good from Evil. Yet all I am witnessing now is... Shadows."

- Lady Terragona, the Flame of the Just

The Sword of Tyr, Vhaan, stood amongst his fellow clergy and the laity present in the Halls of the Just. Abbot Eldric Sulnar led the morning ritual prayer, singing a deep invocation, with a responsive prayer from the rest of the clergy that was repeated numerous times over:

Light of the dawn shine thy truth;
That Order shall be preserved (So sayeth the Overlord of the Just)
Light of the dawn guide the right;
That Balance shall flourish (In His name we are Just)
Light of the dawn punish all crime;
That Law shall cast away the wicked (Order preserve, justice endure)

Vhaan performed his part as the ceremony shifted to the dawn ritual, The Awakening, comprising a gentle, uplifting renewal of faith. The words of the Justice Archon echoed in his mind, accompanied by his own repeated doubts and questions:

Hidden: show

Had he failed in his Holy Mission to unite?

Could he ever fully trust the Baldurian clergies of Ilmater and Torm and the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart again?

What more could he have done to lead the charge against the Vile Darkness?

And what villainy remained?

When the rift opened and consumed Ulgoth's Beard, the Sword of Tyr suppressed many of these thoughts and tended to his temple duties, to mentoring the Templars of the Flaming Tears, and to ensuring that Order would be preserved. But now, with the fiendish horrors mostly banished to the Abyss, he found himself deeper in contemplation, considering the sacrifice of Ser Halvard Stonevik, and the actions of his other Triadic brothers and sisters.

Grief, doubt, and exhaustion. But shining through was his deep abiding conviction for his faith, for the Maimed God. The Just is what this Illuskan serves. And he shall be unwavering in the purity of his spirit:

"Strike against the Wicked. Right the Wrongs. Bring Law to the Lawless. Order to the Chaos. May your judgement be fair and your hand tempered with mercy."

- Lady Terragona, the Flame of the Just

The morning ceremony finished with a rousing chanted anthem; punctuated by the stroke of a gong - no further words were spoken as the sound reverberated, and the clergy and laity quietly and solemnly scattered to attend to their morning. The orderly ceremony, like clockwork, instilled the stern, righteous countenance of the Tyrrans for the day to come.

[Obvious_Illusion]

A Righteous Dream

A long evening spent interpreting an obscure Baldurian law and a contract. Exhausted, but stirring incessantly with a feeling of impending purpose and duty. Finally, as Selûne and her Tears shine brightly overhead against the full majesty of the night, Vhaan at last finds his sleep.

When he stirs, it is not with the dawn. Instead, the Tyrran finds himself in a courtroom that is itself drowned in opalescent light, a light so bright it is almost blinding. This is not the courtroom of the Temple of Tyr in Baldur's Gate. No, it is not a hall he recognises at all - and yet... it feels familiar to him. Each step he takes within brings with it the comfort of being in one's domain: a place where peace and security could never be breached, where law and justice hold sway in all hearts sheltered underneath the hallowed rooftops. Absorbed with a feeling of awe, he gently touched his cheek with his left hand, to see if it this was all real. Feeling his fingertips, there is a part of him that knows what transpires now does not take place on the Prime - or even perhaps any place at all - but there is an overwhelming sense that what happens here is most definitely real. At least, real in some sense of the word... The lights around the Tyrran coalesce into - are they lantern archons? - the thrum of their radiance is reassuring as they lead Vhaan to the magistrate's bench, where somehow he knows that he should sit, that this is his seat.

The dream replayed through his mind over and over again for the coming days. His recollection of the choices seemed more and more tangible. The Tyrran could barely keep up with the present.

The case has been brought before him; the truth of the matter is that the man is guilty of larceny. All eyes fall upon Vhaan to deliver his judgement. A stern countenance, he contemplated for some time, his gaze trailing away. He closed his eyes a moment, and then looked back at the man, and spoke:

"Thou hath been found guilty on two charges of larceny. The punishment for committing such a crime is the removal of a hand, so that one's thievery shall be known to others, so that such a sleight of hand cannot be repeated, and so that others may know of what shall transpire if they are to commit such misdeeds." He paused, about to speak again, but then the man interrupted.

"They had more than enough to spare! What does it matter if I take but a few droplets from an ocean?! Mercy, please my lord, I ask your mercy!" The Thief breaks into fearful sobs, pitiful as he was, prostrate on the floor before Vhaan.

"'Tis your wisdom that ought to be deciding where the coin and property of others belongs? Nay. 'Tis the law!"

"Please don't take my hand, Magistrate, please I know better now! I know I've done wrong, I won't do it again, I promise! I promise!"

He took a breath, and then looked up on the man with his steely gaze "For two counts of larceny, thou ought to have both hands removed. But I believe the function of the punishment to be deterrence - so that you, and others shall not do so again. Mine ruling is thusly: thou shall have thine primary hand removed, and the little finger from thine other removed, and thou shall serve the orphanage for one day every tenday for the next four seasons."

"NO! No, please magistrate, no, I beg of you, I don't deserve this, don't take my hand, please! Please No! No!" The image dissipated with visions of the bailiff dragging the Thief away.

The visions stirred into more cases, more judgements. One that incensed the nature of his faith, and another that felt painful to consider, although he felt confident about the choice he made. Confidnet, but disturbed. A dream within a dream, blending into one another, or was it two dreams? That part... he could not quite make sense of. Had he fallen asleep at a desk reading a legal case? And then the Archivist of the Forgotten appeared, and asked him about his choices, and how the Illuskan man justified them. Not to judge his judgements, but to record them, so that they may not be forgotten.

"And the three petitioners, who wished nothing unlawful and no harm upon any but themselves, as a demonstration of their faith to Tyr? Why did you intercede?

"'Tis a rather complex matter of faith, truly. But in mine prayers - and in the doctrinal texts - I am not aware that the Just God asks us to perform such as an act. We are not asked to bear His suffering, although we do symbolise it." He lifted up his right hand, clad in black glove. "And there are new rituals involving a blindfold. These acts of symbolism remind us what we serve, and why we serve. But the service is to be found in the sacred charges put to us. To reveal the truth, punish the guilty, right the wrong, and always be true and just. Gouging one's eyes out does not achieve this."

"Even if it is not asked of them, do you believe their intended demonstration of faith was wrong? And if so, would you have forcibly denied them this choice for the rest of their lives? Your judgement stopped them only in a single moment, after all..."

He furrowed his brow, and stroked his chin with his left fingers and thumb."'Tis possible that I am wrong. If it is mine duty to decide upon the clergy before me, then the hierarchy ought to be respected. I cannot control all others, and can only seek to guide. But do I believe it wrong? ... In a certain sense, I do. I believe it puts the emphasis of our duty and service on acting like the Just God. I do not believe we can comprehend what it means to be Him, and to emulate something that has happened to Him is to practice a vanity; to think that we are as important as He. Our focus ought to be on our service to Him."

He had been told that he was tempered with wisdom, and that he honoured the Even-Handed God. And when he woke - this time for real. He awoke in a bed of ivory-white feathers.

Vhaan recalled the image of the executioner's axe in his hands. What bothered him was not his duty, but the figure baring neck before him. Not really who he thought it was. Why did he think it was-- No, was just a dream, a vision. It was hypothetical, wasn't it? But so real. And now... a miracle? Surreal, still. Blurry. Perhaps the dream was really just beginning.

Nay. 'Tis real.

Hidden: show

Kudos to DM Mimic for this event!

[Obvious_Illusion]

The mood of the temple had been sombre for some time before rumours circulated beyond. The murder of Dame Bettany the Patient had been a significant shock to the clergy and knights of the Hallowed Halls of the Just. The usual range of daily rituals were far quieter, and some of the typical hymns and prayers were instead replaced with a restrained and austere set of chants, accompanied by the striking of a gong that created a rather pensive atmosphere. Vhaan and the other clergy continued to attend to the daily duties, and to support Dame Catherine the Just.

With the exception of fellow Tyrrans or city officials (Flaming Fist, City Watch, representatives of the Dukes), those who arrived at the temple to inquire about Bettany, Lord Vincent Hargrove, or Robb Strong would be asked to politely leave as the Temple was in a period of mourning. Funeral arrangements would be made in due time. If insisting upon knowledge of the case, they would be asked to submit any inquiries in writing to Abbot Eldric Sulnar (DM Mimic). Befitting the Tyrrans, no exceptions were tolerated in the slightest.

Other visitation would be much more restricted than usual, with junior clergy triaging whether visitors had legitimate business with the temple, or were attending one of the many daily sermons and prayers occurring throughout the day. With any business or ritual completed, visitors were promptly, and politely asked to leave.

[Obvious_Illusion]

The duties of Order and Justice march forward, but grief remains. For some, the grief lingers as a gentle caress, and for others it remains a firm, tight grasp. The murder of a paladin of the Just God is an affront to all that is good. But the more obvious public display of emotions after the period of mourning is a sense of righteous indignation at the wrong that has been brought upon the city by Robb Strong. Still, this fervor plays out differently, with disagreement and objections emerging between the ranks over Sir Eustace the Fair's manhunt for Robb Strong. Should the bounty be left for the City Watch, or should the Tyrrans take it into their own hands? And is Sir Eustance simply too personally connected for this to have any good sense of vigilance? Will he lose sight of the Truth? But how does one quell the fury of another who has been so wronged?

The official period of mourning closing, the Temple of Tyr cautiously opens its doors proper to visitors again. Vhaan remains focused on his duties; to ensuring his part in the ministry of the temple and legal work continues. However, other than the information already shared, the Tyrrans remain tight-lipped about the finer details of Lord Vincent Hargrove's case and of Robb Strong, designating Abbot Eldric Sulnar (DM Mimic) as the point of contact for any further discussion about the cases. Disruptive questions and harassment are politely declined, with any continuance leading one to be escorted out the door, and the individual's name being passed onto the City Watch.

[None]

In the early morning hours, the golden light of dawn's sunrise shone through the stained glass of the Temple of Tyr as a tired, pale woman approached the altar. The amber light of the sun mixed with the etchings from the windows all around her, reflecting a myriad of colors through her long white hair. Her gentle gaze peered around before her light and quiet steps brought her closer.

When she reached the altar marked by the scales of the Just One, she placed a simple wicker basket on the long cloth-lined surface. The gift was modest, twisted out of delicate straw. The silent Kelemvorite looked upon it for a moment with the same muted expression of reverence, then placed a letter against the offering. The simple wax envelope was sealed with the skeletal scales of the Great Guide, bearing a single name in black ink: "Vhaan." The visit was brief, as the pale woman made a measured but immediate departure there after.

[Komodo]

The doors to the church opened without ceremony as a man walked into the sacred halls of Tyr. He dressed in simple armor, a tabard hanging over without significant markings. Closing the door behind him, the man paused for a moment, a long exhale drawing from his lips as pivoted on his heel and strode into the temple hall. Bright azure eyes cast upward into the grand place, and settled onto his knees a few paces from the altar. His right gauntleted hand came to rest over his heart, head bowed in reverence as he offered few words of prayer. The attendant said nothing to the man, taking a small step backward to allow the ritual to proceed.

The sanctity of this place had not been fouled, but for the actions of one the day previous, it was all too certain that the malevolent creatures that lurk in the dark are ever active.

Vastan took the hand from his heart and placed it against the ground, his fingers feeling the cold of the stone even through his gloved hand.

"May Justice be delivered honorably..."

Vastan offered the sacred halls as what happened within the Church of Ilmater occurs within these halls. The air began to tingle with the rushing of energies into the hall, filling the area. This took him a few moments, a bead of sweat developing over his brow from the concentration.

A sharp exhale left his lips as the consecration completed. He faltered a moment, the attendant taking a step forward as if to aid the man, but Vastan lofted a hand toward him, the other bracing himself against the floor. Words were not spoken, but a soft nod of reassurance was given, and Vastan stood onto his feet, tall. He offered the attendant a warm smile before striding out of the temple much in the same fashion as he entered.