The Song of the Morning Temple RP Thread

[Hidennka]

Cecilia stares at the large mosaic of the holy symbol of Lathander after turning her back on the departing helmed man whom had offered quiet, yet brief words within it's hall. Words she had not wanted to hear. She blinks damp blue eyes, fingers trembling in the silence of the empty hall. After a long while, the blonde turns and exits the temple wordlessly. Hours pass until she returns, dishevelled and splattered with blood; at which point she falls to her knees before the altar and prays softly until dawn.

[mireigi]

Tolan returns the temple an hour before dawn, whistling merrily to himself and generally appearing to be in a good mood. At first he doesn't recognize the figure before the altar, covered in blood as it is. Only when he moves up to stand beside the figure to offer his assistance if needed, does he recognize the figure as Cecilia.
"Cecilia, you look a mess! What happened!?" he exclaims as he kneels down beside her, producing a handkerchief from a pocket and offering it to her.

[Hidennka]

Head lifting slightly from it's bowed position, the handkerchief flickers into her field of vision. Her fair skin shows through dried tracks in the splattered gore on her deadpan features as her gaze shifts from the cloth to the dark-haired man. Cecilia shakes her head, pale blonde ponytail bobbing from the motion as she does so. "A personal matter. . . followed by training." As if only now realising the state she was in, her gloved fingers move to wipe her cheek rather than taking the offered token. Fingertips doing little more than smearing the red haze on her skin, she makes an attempt to stand on stiff and shaky legs resultant from hours of kneeling. "I should see to getting myself cleaned up."

[ThornsM]

After many hours in the Beregost Temple of Lathander, Pheltun finally regained his composure.
In recompense for gibbering on the pews, knocking over banners as he ran about madly with some unseen "spirit" on his back, for treading honey cakes into the rug and other such unruly inconveniences, he offers an apology and a donation of 5000 coins to Kelldath.

[Hidennka]

Bare-feet curling to the chill of the wooden floor, Cecilia pulls herself gently from the warmth of the shared bed in a careful attempt not to disturb the slumbering golden-haired Dawnknight beside her. Though she herself was troubled and could not sleep it was a quiet squeaking by the window that drew her attention and caused her brows to crease. Slowly making her way over, the blonde woman draws back the embroidered golden curtains and floods the room with pale moonlight. Black, beady eyes stare back at her through the glass, a small feathered head flitting a few times before it emits another squeak. Cecilia stares at the bird momentarily, before attempting to shoo it away with a quiet but direct wave of her hand from within the room. It does little, if nothing, to send the Raven on it's way.

The woman's pale brows crease further, a slender finger drawing along the length of her jaw in contemplation. Blue eyes traversing the bird, her gaze catches on a small flicker of sandy-hued colour by it's feet. A piece of parchment, tied with a black ribbon. Intrigued, she lifts her hand toward the window's latch and hesitates briefly. Warily. After a few moments, locked in an intense stare with the bird, she unlocks the nearby window and swings it open. The Raven does not shy away as the window opens, nor does it startle as she lifts a few fingers to gently stroke the softer down of it's feathered chest. It squeaks, allowing her to touch as she desires. Unravelling the piece of parchment from the black ribbon around the bird's left foot, she casts the creature a curious glance before looking over the small sheet before her. It was. . . blank? Cecilia's brows loft atop her forehead, looking from the parchment to the bird and back as she flips it a few times in her hand.

After a few moments her eyes widen, golden scrawling text - perfect in it's penmanship - appeared before her at the exact speed of her reading and disappearing from the page a moment later. Penmanship she recognized. Whilst the magic was undoubtedly impressive, it was the few written words which held her at stiff attention. She stares at the signed name as it dissolves, the seven letters disappearing one by one until the final "s" fades and the parchment drifts to the floor in silence. A slow exhale leaves her parted lips, a few fingers pulling across her fair brow as her gaze returns to the feathered guest remaining unperturbed at the window. This was no ordinary bird. It was waiting for her command. It belonged to her now. . .

Cecilia sucks her teeth in contemplation, holding out a delicate hand for the bird whom swiftly latches on, obeying without hesitation. The young woman shakes her head a few times as she glances back to her sleeping paramour, loose blonde hair fluttering in the breeze of the open window as it cascaded freely over her negligee. For now she would cage this feathered 'gift' . . . the creature's fate could decided upon come morn.

[Miasmata]

On returning to the temple, Eldarian's greeted by a dour-faced templar. "Commander, there was a . . . situation."

It's briefly explained to the paladin that a dwarf had been brought to the temple that evening, killed on the trade roads and discovered by a band of adventurers. After first trying, and failing, to resucitate the dwarf, the man's body was prepared for burial and a note was discovered among his belongings.

The note is handed off to Eldarian, with a slight, stern nod from the templar.

Eldarian reads it swiftly, golden brow furrowing with concern. "I . . . see." He looks back up at the templar. "Let no one else know what this says."

With that order, he moves with purpose into the temple, intent on writing several warnings.

[VanillaRose]

A small parchment tied with a colored string arrives. The outside of the parchment reads:

Lady Cecilia Lafayette
Song of the Morning Temple
Beregost

When unfurled, the parchment reads as so:



No return address is included.

[Hidennka]

Upon delivery of the letter, Cecilia unties the coloured string and reads over the parchment. As her blue eyes traverse the document a warm smile plays upon her lips, she seems both pleased and touched by it's contents. It is re-furled and placed neatly within the draw of her personal desk.

[Tsidkenu]

Hidden: show

A blue and white robed elven woman enters the Song of the Morning Temple in Beregost and proceeds to have a long discussion with Kelddath Ormlyr about their recent visit to the Temple of Mystra in Baldur's Gate. She presents Kelddath with a small, innate magical ring as a gift and token of friendship between the two faiths and announces that she will remain in town for a number of days in order to sell a variety of other magical items produced or procured by the Church of Mystra in Baldur's Gate.

Hidden: show

OOC: [EDIT] The item was delivered to Tolan Faeglin. See him to get it transferred to your treasury or else a worthy recipient

[Hidennka]

That evening, within the walls of the Morninglord and long after most have retired for the eve, Cecilia Lafayette quietly takes the ascending steps from her chambers to seek out the altar and shine within the main hall of the Song of the Morning temple. The armored woman does not linger, approaching the large mounted symbol of the Lathander's own just as she had done so alongside the Most Radiant Kelddath earlier that evening.

At the base of the stone steps, the woman kneels and bows her head. For a time, she does something which none save one had witnessed from her in a very long time - if at all. The woman, hardened from months of trials and steel, bares her soul and pours open her heart with an emotional display of quiet sobs that rose and dipped in fervour. Her rosen lips begin to form what would be her first words of solo prayer unto the Morninglord, words that would continue even after the sobs no longer racked her body and the tears had dried from her porcelain features. Over the next hour she engages in prayer, her voice remaining quiet and intimate. The words personal, meant for one and one alone.

Finally, Cecilia raises her head and gazes upon the icon for an uninterrupted minute of silence. The words that follow are gently spoken but audible, tone solemn and heavy with the weight of the meaning behind them.

"I cast off this armor and place down my sword in your name, Prince of Dawn. What once belonged to Tyr, I offer unto you. Until you deem me fit to take up arms once more, I will not do so. Should you find me unworthy, I will touch no blade for the rest of my days."

Slowly the woman removes her leather gloves, placing them on the stairs before her with both hands. And offering. Fingers now bare, she solemly begins to unbuckle each of the pieces of her freshly polished armor and places them gently on the stone, repeating her previous gesture. As the protective shell comes away it exposes attire consisting of a simple grey tunic; a symbol of being stripped bare, reducing herself to nothing. Prostrating herself once more, her sheathed blade is given up to the icon.

"I cast aside this signet ring, my nobility and birthright. My heritage. My past. It is you, Morninglord, who brought me into this world despite that which ailed my Esteemed Mother, the Lady Lafayette. It was through your divine miracle I was given life and thus I surrender it to you. I will not don such until my family is contacted and you deem me fit enough to wear it unburdened."

From her right hand she twists the golden ring from a slender finger and places it atop her gloves, murmuring the accompanying words of her House in soft Cormyrean. "E si arrepeeeenteaes a teaehtchoharrenes che eselleepeee a beeedees oheph arrohesees." Ornate in design, the family crest of a thorned ruby rose gleams brilliantly, reflecting in the soft light of the candles surrounding her.

"I give unto you the most cherished of my heart, this gifted trinket turned necklace as I surrendering even that to you. . . turning over the insecurities that come with love and commitment. Though I remain in courtship, unwavering by his side, I will not . . . place my lips to his until I am found worthy to do so in your eyes."

Dipping her head further, Cecilia unloops a golden chain from around her pale neck. Her fingers brush over the black pearl pendant that hangs from it's middle, raising the gem to her lips tenderly before offering it to the icon before her with a lingering gaze and finally, a bow of her head.

"I surrender to you my trials and burdens. . . betrayal, torture and heart-ache among others. I come to you lost and alone, a shattered being seeking the light and warmth of your love. I entrust these broken pieces of my heart and soul to your hands, if you will have them. I offer myself to you. Not as a paladin, nor a noble. . . but as a humbled woman, heart and soul stripped bare at your feet.

Break these chains, Morninglord, I beg of you! Bend these bars, shatter the stone, temper the steel, thaw the frozen. Make me whole once more and use me as you will. Use my experiences as example, my failures as strengths. Make me a beacon if that is your plan for me. Show me how to live! Strengthen this flicker of a flame within my heart that has always held a place for you. I offer all that I am unto the coming dawn, come what may."

Her final words ring in the air, reverberating with an ethereal quality. The blond presses her forehead against the cold stone floor and remains there even as physical, mental and emotional weariness eventually draw her into sleep's loving embrace.

[mireigi]

Early in the morning, an hour before the sun rises, Tolan enters the temple dressed in a new set of robes more suitable for service than the tunic he previously favored. As he approaches the altar he notices the figure sleeping in a kneeling position in front of the mounted symbol of Lathander. Upon seeing who it is, he smiles softly and unclasps his golden cloak, embroidered with the symbol of Lathander, and drapes it over the sleeping woman.

As he is draping the cloak over her, Tolan spots the offerings on the stone stairs and heads into the temple vaults to retrieve a wooden chest. As he return, he gathers up the offerings and carefully places them into the box, which he then carries into the temple vault for safekeeping. Using a brush and some ink, he writes the word "Cecilia" on top of the lid and clicks the padlock on. After attaching a patterned string to both the padlock and key to pair them together, he hangs the key inside the vault cabinet, which only the members of the temple can open, and locks it as well.

Returning to the main hall of the temple, Tolan kneels down beside Cecilia and scoops her up in his arms. As he carries her back to the sleeping quarters of the temple, he lowly whispers a few kind words.

"Lathander, accept this humble woman into your grace and warm embrace. She was always a friend, one I would gladly name Sister. I, a humble servant of your grace and wisdom, ask you to show her the splendor of a New Dawn, and help ease her troubles."

The rest of the way he walks in silence, careful not to disturb her slumber. Upon arriving at her sleeping quarters, he gently places her down on her cot beside Eldarian, careful not to disturb his sleep either. After replacing his cloak with a blanket, he rises and smiles warmly while looking down to the sleeping couple. "You are a better match for her than I ever was," Tolan quietly whispers as his eyes fall on Eldarian. "May your love grow ever stronger, Brother and Sister."

Tolan then leaves the sleeping couple and heads to his private quarters to prepare for the morning prayers. He also writes a notice to the clergy informing them of what is now stored in the temple vault.

As the temple starts to awaken, one of the acolytes responsible for morning breakfast service inform Tolan of a blue and white robed elven visitor. With a smile Tolan thanks the acolyte and heads into the main hall to meet with the visitor. The two converse for a while, both in good spirits, and Tolan accepts a gifted ring for the temple.

[Hidennka]

Soaked to the bone, shivering and quite tired; Commander Eldarian and Lady Cecilia return to the temple after an evening's absence. Though the two retain their usual professionalism within the halls of the public chapel, there is an aura of relieved peace evident in the warmth of their smiles.

[rokranon]

After some lengthy travel, the darkly-clad man with a hooded green cloak arrives in Beregost by horse. He wastes little time in heading to the Song of the Morning temple, where inquiries are made about one Cecilia Lafayette. Finding her occupied, the fellow prays to The Morninglord for some time until an opportunity arises to speak to the young woman.

When that conversation takes place, it appears from onlookers to be tense, possibly heated, at first, before calming down. It is quite some time later before the man leaves after a very lengthy conversation.

[Hidennka]

Cecilia paced the length of the hall for the tenth time that hour, her gaze flickering to the door now throughout the eve. Though her evening's lengthy conversation had become an uplifting one and resulted in a smile as her guest departed, the blonde woman's thoughts soon turned to a single phrase. One which wedged itself in the back of her mind and repeated itself relentlessly.

"A matter of life and death" the golden-clad man had blurted hurriedly earlier that afternoon, the two armored men racing out the door moments later without a single glance back. Even now, with dawn fast approaching there had been no sign nor word. Cecilia couldn't help but find herself rather anxious with the emptiness of the bed, the rose missing from it's sometimes location. The last time the Dawnknight disappeared without a trace had resulted in his death, and she was not yet ready - if ever - to face that trial again.

Blast it all, where were they?

[rokranon]

That strange fellow in green cloak arrives back at the temple after quite a bit of time passes. He walks in, looking around to see if the man introduced to him as a Dawnknight, one Commander Eldarian, has returned.

Regardless of whether he finds the man, two letters are dropped off.