(no subject)
FotD 3/26/09 - Propinquity
Main Entry
Timeframe : 1260's
“What is this?” said Tristan, shuffling through the doors in Sethan’s wake. He cast the walls a puzzled frown. The exterior had been intact, yet every inch inside the room, save the space around the central altar, had clearly once been bathed in flames.
“This,” said Sethan, a look of such unadulterated joy to the man’s features that Tristan withdrew a step, “is what I have been searching for.”
Arms folded, Tristan kept near the door, while his companion strode right past the altar on his way to the pair of shrines to the rear. He eyed the blackened walls and floor, scorched bits of wood peeling and flaking all around, but not one board out of place, and shuddered at the thought of the blaze the place must have seen, and the worry at what Sethan might possibly want with it.
The other came to a halt at the far end of the temple, before the twin altars, and Tristan blinked. He counted; fire and water to the left, earth and air to the right, another pair to the rear. Sethan lingered in front of the rough figure, mismatched to all the rest, the one which, by all accounts, should not be there at all, and laughed.
“So, just what is it?” said Tristan, shuffling uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
“This,” said Sethan, and Tristan cringed as he reached up to tap the statue, most irreverently, on its nose, “is the gateway.”
Main Entry
Timeframe : 1260's
“What is this?” said Tristan, shuffling through the doors in Sethan’s wake. He cast the walls a puzzled frown. The exterior had been intact, yet every inch inside the room, save the space around the central altar, had clearly once been bathed in flames.
“This,” said Sethan, a look of such unadulterated joy to the man’s features that Tristan withdrew a step, “is what I have been searching for.”
Arms folded, Tristan kept near the door, while his companion strode right past the altar on his way to the pair of shrines to the rear. He eyed the blackened walls and floor, scorched bits of wood peeling and flaking all around, but not one board out of place, and shuddered at the thought of the blaze the place must have seen, and the worry at what Sethan might possibly want with it.
The other came to a halt at the far end of the temple, before the twin altars, and Tristan blinked. He counted; fire and water to the left, earth and air to the right, another pair to the rear. Sethan lingered in front of the rough figure, mismatched to all the rest, the one which, by all accounts, should not be there at all, and laughed.
“So, just what is it?” said Tristan, shuffling uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
“This,” said Sethan, and Tristan cringed as he reached up to tap the statue, most irreverently, on its nose, “is the gateway.”