The sun beat down upon Urberer’s back like a weight that simply wouldn’t be resisted. He started to sweat under his off-white and well worn robes. Worse of all was the blinding effect the sun had on his eyes; bleeding out the colors around him to simple darks and lights. The sun shouldn’t be so intense for a man walking northward to the Grand Temple.
But the grand Temple was just one of the many jewels that shined in the northern part of the city, the part of the city called High Town. Urberer shielded his eyes but it aided him little. The building in this part of town, specifically on the mid-town side was white. They had windows as long as two men and just high. Inside and outside their windows were quartz and other minerals that shone brightly in the light. If it added color and reflected the sun it was hung in front of buildings or in the inside. For the mid-town side, that included expensive gems; however, those were kept on the inside quarters. But it didn’t really matter what the item was. Whatever shone a light, whatever gave the impression of a life spent in luxury and not in the proverbial field was just decoration. Those that lived this close to high-town lived a different style of life than the rest of mid-town, and most would never ever be caught in low-town out of fear of being robbed or raped. Or so they thought.
“It doesn’t matter how true or un-true it is” Urberer thought to himself.
His thought process continues as he blindly makes his way through the streets “They’ll never come to low-town. Their nobles of gold, if not of birthright. But unlike nobles, they still have to prove themself more. Hm. I wonder if this whole Merchant Princess thing will flip things on its head. Then again. It doesn’t really matter to me.”
Giving up on the notion of relying on his sight alone, and smelling the incense from the temple, he decides to place his hand on a wooden rail that stood out several feet away from buildings and stoutly placed in the cobble stone ground. It’s was made of an imported cypress and conditioned to resist wet and dry climates. The spindles were intricately carved with various engraves similar to that of gems. He rubbed his hand on top of the smooth veneer. It had the signs of usage but was well maintained.
His hand overtop he did what he always did, what people of this area always do; he walked blindly to the temple.
The rail was the pathway. It didn’t require thought. It didn’t require much effort or insight. It just required you to walk with blind faith. And the rail always got you there. Urberer hated to using the rail.
Urberer continued to walk, his eyes mostly closed, one hand on his staff and the other running over the rail. He didn’t always keep it on the rail. Urberer lifted his hand from time to time and would just let it however above as he walked into the unknown. He could feel when he started to get to far away from it; and would just gently bump into the rail as a whole. Despite the strained expressions from being blinded, a smile would creep across his face every time he went off the rail.
“We’re getting close” he says, sniffing the air. The smell of sandalwood and francense enveloped the area like a fog. A fog no one would be ever to see with all the shiny objects in the area, but a fog nonetheless. The smell of the incense ran out any other smell. No bakery could overpower it. And only the very essence of the salty waters that surround and run through the city bit at its curtails.
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Urberer came to a stop on the rail. The heat on his back was no longer oppressive. In its space was the smell of incense. He blinked his eyes open slowly, allowing them to adjust.
“Thank goodness. Finally past all that glit and glam.”
He now stood in the space that was several paces out from the Grand Temple. There were no houses this close. No buildings either; at least not on the mid-town side of the grand temple. No buildings meant no mirrors, or crystals, or other shiny items. Just open space on the outskirts of the temple’s wall and the various foreign trees planted in well decorated terracota pots.
The rail had brought him to a tented location set paces back from the main gate to the Grand Temple. The tent’s canopy consisted of fine purple velvet that covered a large section and provided shade to the illustrious citizens of mid-town and those few who chose to cross over from high-town from the temple; like clerics. The velvet top was held by several large mahogany tree posts that were set spaced around fifteen feet apart and followed a length of fifty feet. They were banded in gold and had names inscribed on them.
Urberer stood next to one of these beams and followed the curvature of one of the various names. “Delicate and finely engraved,” he says to no one at all. He removes his hand and notes the smudge mark left on it; the only imperfect impression.
“I wonder how many golds they had to pay to get their names on here. Prominent display in front of the grand temple pathway. Where everyone else can ee that they donated to the ‘grand religion’ and how much of a loyal followers they are. And of course, how much wealth they have. The bidding to get their name on this thing must have been high.”
Without any further thought, he takes one hand and uses it to smudge a number of the engraved names with the oils of his hands. Seeming suddenly content he turns his back to the post and then leans against it, facing north to the temple.
“Isn’t she a beaut’” he says as his eyes follow along the pathway to the main gate of the temple.
The pathway led to the main gate of the temple. It was heavy wrought iron, standing nearly fifteen feet high and nestled into solid grey cobblestone walls. The walls were imposing in a way different than the regular buildings of mid-town or even of high-town. These walls were simple, strong, and looked as though they’ve repelled not just the elements, but that of mankind itself.
Urberer’s eyes studied the structure in front of him. It was clear to him that the walls could easily be patrolled upon by one or two guards; an effort that would be made by a person with a strong heart as there was no guard rail to protect them from simply falling over. However, the walls were adorned with random peek-a-boo walls for archers to rain down arrows from cover if needed.
In the middle of this protective wall, sat the temple. She too was simple. The main body was that of a long “X” and each of its legs ended in a small “T” shape. Next to it was a simple tower of the same cobblestone. It served as a lighthouse for the eastern side of the land that jutted against the open sea.
“She must have been a marvel fort back in her day. How many waves did she push back from coastal marauders, the Aventi Empire, the Daemosh legions, and who knows what else.” Urberer moistens his lip and his body seems to relax. “A true stoic beauty”.
Bong. Bong. Bong.
The rumbling of the temple bell rang out from the tower in all directions. It’s three rings sounding the time of day. It mores, it jarred Urberer from his pondering of the past.
“And now she is a home to the feckless.” He steps off and heads to the gate. “And I’m their ever merry servant,” he says in a high pitch-mocking voice. He goes into his robe one last time and takes a swig from his canteen. “Time to go to work”.