Author's Note: A story of otherworldly Temples, vast callous cults, souls, minds, and the bodies they inhabit. I make it sound so pompous, please read this first chapter, and tell me if you like it, the other chapters are slightly longer.
Vielen Danken
Your Host
RegisSantia
Disclaimer: All previous disclaimers written by me still stand, and will continue to stand until I say that they don't. (This saves me from having to write disclaimers, crafty eh?)
Genesis
The Temple stands on an empty plain. The structure is vast and the architecture gothic. Envision it, a flying buttress soars to a roof. Upon which a stone tower nestles, dark and foreboding. At the apex of the tower an arch splits from the masonry and sweeps skywards, at its highest point it sinks into the ornate stonework of tower in the same structure. But this tower, though above the lower black clouds and almost a mile across is but one end of a bridge, a bridge that leads away into the gloom. Follow it, at the end of the bridge is the central temple, the nucleus of the epic building that sprawls to the size of a small town. By pass the domes and towers and slit windows. Move along the impossibly thin walkway of the bridge into the portal at its end. A Dread Gate that proclaims without words that once you go in, you can't come out. Pass the portal, skim through the endless labyrinth of corridors; pass where the gangs of slaves once toiled and the doom-shrouded acolytes stalked among them. Pass the altars where priests offered up sacrifices to ever-hungry entities, pass the great chambers and halls. Turn the last turns and come to the second Doom Portal. This door is inscribed, covered completely in an archaic script which will never be deciphered, The stone into which the door is set is carved into nightmarish forms, grasping clawed hands, fanged hungry mouths. They seem to writhe on the surface of the wall. Pass the door and enter the open space of a hall of unrivalled proportions. The floor of the hall is marked with ruts some metres deep, and stained red, others more finely crafted than the deep drainage gullies, they form an intricate pattern, and are inlaid with jet and, closer to the centre of the room, with ruby. At the very centre are nine chairs, high backed and fashioned from stone. These chairs once held people.
The council of the Masters was in session. Five men and four women sat in the great stone chairs in the Sanctum Sanctorum of the Temple. They were all hooded and cloaked to the point of being invisible in the low light. They all sat almost motionless, speaking in turn.
"Lordship we,
Art all assembled.
Send thy word,
And it shall be done."
"Blessed art,
Those who now serve thee.
Send thy word,
And it shall be done."
"Devoted art,
Thy faithful servants.
Send thy word,
And it shall be done."
"Let us rise,
That we may look down.
Send thy word,
And it shall be done."
"All ruling,
Thy standard shalt be.
Send thy word,
And it shall be done."
"Lordship thou,
Art now almighty.
Send thy word,
And it shall be done."
"We art now,
Ready to serve thee.
Send thy word,
And it shall be done."
"Lordship thou,
Hast souls and bodies.
Send thy word,
And it shall be done."
"Though in life,
My word is judgement.
Send thy word,
And it shall be done."
With the final intonation from the Grandmaster in the centre of the semicircle of chairs the poetic ritual ended, and discussion began.
"Grandmaster I beg to speak," announced a robed figure, rising from its chair and moving to the centre of the semicircle.
"Speak then, and thou shalt be heard," recited the Grandmaster, in his quiet, civilized voice.
"Our lord is victorious in his vanquishing of the pacifist scum who held his daughter."
"Excellent," said the grand Master, placing his gloved fingers together. "And what of the daughter herself?"
"Lordship, it appears that she was taken away."
"Most unfortunate," replied the Grandmaster, before asking, "Where does she reside now."
"She is living in a realm which we are unable to reach without serious sorcerous application. Application that would use up almost every slave in the Temple to move anything substantial. I believe that it would be beneficial to send an Emissary to bind the daughter and then move our entire church into the realm, which is teeming with life ripe for the harvest."
"Your suggestion has been noted," said the Grandmaster, motioning to the speaker to sit. "What is the name of this realm?"
It was not a normal day in Titan's Tower. Cyborg was thrashing Beast Boy at the latest video game, Starfire was cooking inedible Tamaranian delicacies, Robin was training, and Raven was, Raven was hovering around taking an interest in what other people were doing, it was quite unnatural.
Cyborg noticed this after being asked to explain the background story of the game at which he was consistently demolished all of Beast Boys attempts to beat him. "Well y'see it's kind of complicated," he began, feeling slightly awkward.
"Go on," said Raven obligingly.
That was wrong, Raven didn't oblige, she stuck to her guns rigidly and conservatively. Besides, she thought that only idiots could possibly have any interest in the doltish pastime of video gaming, and she didn't mind saying so. "Anyway, yeah," Cyborg went on scratching the back of his head and looking around, "like I said its complicated, the hero guy's father was killed by the demon guy ten years ago…" Man this was weird, the plot had sounded perfectly sensible before he'd started explaining it out loud to Raven. Thank god he wasn't playing one of the stupid beat 'em up games with the moronic plotlines and the even more moronic characters. "… So now he has to go kill the bandits because the guy at the inn paid him to do it, and then…" Raven was worrying him; she shouldn't be taking an interest, she should be doing Raven things like meditating, and reading, and being grumpy.
His thoughts, and his explanation of the journey undertaken by the hero of the game, were interrupted by Beast Boy's victorious cry, "Oh yeah! And victory goes to the vice champion. Go Beast Boy, go Beast Boy."
"Yeah you wish, we're having a re-match, Raven distracted me."
"How? Is there something distracting about Raven?" asked Beast Boy with a sly expression on his face.
"You shut up man, its you that gets distracted by Raven, not me, anyway, its not everyday Raven asks a question about video games without being sarcastic," Cyborg replied quickly.
Beast Boy frowned, "Dude, that's totally weird, no that's unnatural, no that's just plain freak-"
"Aw come on man, make up your mind."
Beast Boy jumped up, "This is it!"
"Is what?" asked Cyborg.
"This is my chance," replied Beast Boy, which was not enlightening.
"I don't think she's going to accept if you propose BB," said Cyborg with a smirk, earning him a scowl from the changeling who was standing in front of him.
"Whom is Beast Boy proposing to?" came a frigidly polite voice from the doorway as Raven strode in after looking to see how Robin was doing with his punch bag and weights.
"Raven," said Beast Boy, and then stopped abruptly with his mouth hanging open stupidly. Cyborg snickered. Raven, instead of raising an eyebrow, sneering and replying sarcastically tottered on her feet. She fell backwards fainting onto the floor. Her head thudded painfully causing Cyborg and Beast Boy to wince. At that moment Starfire walked in bearing a large tray piled high with Boredom Banishment Pudding, the way in which it banished boredom was thankfully unknown. Her purple booted foot caught on Raven's unconscious figure and she toppled forwards with an enhanced Tamaranian shriek. The tray supporting the questionable pudding hurtled from her hands and the dish squatting on top of it splattered a large area consisting of floor, couch, Cyborg and Beast Boy. Robin rushed into the sweat plastering his hair to his head and his clothes to his body, "Who screamed?" he demanded before tripping himself over Raven and Starfire, who didn't seem too sorry about him landing on top of her.
