ph_logs | The Temple of Sacred Roots

In Reverence of the Goddesses

Tucked into a once-verdant park near the heart of the village is the Temple of the Sacred Roots of Our Four Earthly Mothers. The wooden building is cobbled together, seemingly added onto over the years in an organic way as additional stories were added on. Its walls are of dark wood, with steep steepled roofs and large stained glass windows. Most of the windows are vibrant bits of stained glass, often depicting symbols of nature related to each of the Four Mothers.

There are smaller rooms for individual worship or a quiet spot to meditate and even a small library, but the main hall is a circular open room where worshippers come to hear the good word together. They sit in a mishmash of chairs or pillows laid on the floor, or even a large root or stone, all circled around a pulpit and a singular chair in the center, although the pulpit appears to be a bit dusty from disuse. The tree that forms the heart of this building only grows within the confines of its walls, intertwined into the interior’s architecture. The only other room of note is the large kitchen just behind this hall. There many meals have been cooked to share among the faithful. Even if these meals are meager now, the villagers scrape together what they can in an effort to make sure no one goes hungry.

Services are held on Saturday evenings, Sunday mornings, and Wednesday evenings for the down-to-earth faithful. Attendance is highly encouraged - meals are often served! - and the bonds of fellowship must be kindled on a regular basis. However, Degas is often at the Temple either studying for his next sermon or reading one of the many books found in the library.

Use this post to RP threads that take place at or in relation to the Temple of Sacred Roots! More details on the organization and its workings can be found under the drop-downs.

Membership

Point of Contact
Reverend Degas Clayton

Joining
There is no initiation process when you first arrive. You are invited to attend service at any time and the moment you enter the building you become family. However, should you stray from the path of the Mothers, returning to the fold will require some atonement in the form of offerings and prayer.

Benefits
Most of the flock are welcoming, providing you show some effort in helping others as you have been helped. They are the friendliest bunch and often have simple meals prepared for evening services, as well as offering support and compassion to those afflicted by the evils that batter the village.

Drawbacks
The group as a whole seem content to wait for some mysterious event in the future that will surely save their village from ultimate destruction, and are stuck in their ways. Change comes rarely, if at all, nor do they take kindly to their beliefs being called into question. Being ostracized by this group means a cold shoulder from most of the village long afterwards.

Sermons

Degas likes to keep these more down to earth than the previous preacher, especially since he’s not especially trained in such matters. He will share news of a fellow villager’s death so that the others can keep a lookout for them upon their return. He organizes community projects to try and bolster flagging morale and to continue the teachings of the Temples through these simple deeds. Otherwise he just tries to offer words of comfort and encourage fellow Tempe go-ers to keep the faith. They just have to hold out for a sign that the tides will turn in their favor once more.

The arrival of newcomers is met with equal amounts of relief and wariness, unsure if this is a sign or a test. While Degas offers to help new arrivals and invites them to Temple functions openly he won’t take kindly to anyone trying to question held beliefs. Not enough to run them out of town like Elsie and her mother, but a socially cold shoulder on a tiny island isn’t ideal either. That would be about the extent of anything malicious on Degas’s part. He’s not into scheming, just hoping that change finally comes and their salvation is finally brought to fruition.

There is no tithing in the temple. The building was built by the community over the years and they tend to it, donating their time to its upkeep. Prayer or meditation is a part of the sermons as well, worshippers often lay a hand on the person closest to them, forming an interconnected web of touch that mimics tree branches or roots. Or they lift a hand up, palm facing upwards, as a new sprouted plant might push its way out of the dirt. Prayers are muttered, never shouted, creating a wind-like sound as the murmurs are offered up to the Goddesses. There’s songs sung, often accompanied by rhythmic clapping or stomping, or additional voices adding to the cacophony. Instruments are of the handheld variety (hurdy gurdy, fiddle, pan flute), there’s no pianos or organs to be found in the Temple.

Philosophy & Teachings

The Temple espouses the bonds of fellowship above all else, save for the reverence paid to the Four Mothers. It's beliefs are steeped in the hard-working, salt-of-the-earth people who first came to the island, weaving together the fabric of this new society from nothing more than a precious seedling. While its traditions are humble those who hold them dear also hold them close..

It is generally considered sacrilege to depict the goddesses in art with their faces showing, and most art of them will tactfully cover their faces with things like Serannai's mask, Kora's hat, a cloud in front of Celestine's face, or a mourning veil for Mortanne. As it is believed to be disrespectful to presume their facial features.

And while prayer in temples is perfectly fine, it's believed that it is more effective to go to the goddesses where they live--- the forest for Serannai, the beach for Kora, mountains or hearths for Celestine, and graveyards or anywhere snowy for Mortanne. However recent events makes this extremely difficult.

There’s a rock, the tree roots, a bowl of sand, and an old gravestone in the temple for substitutes, although they are poor ones.

The Goddesses

Serranai is the goddess of Spring and the Earth. She is depicted as a satyr who wears a deer skull mask and firey red hair. She can be somewhat mischievous and playful, but can also be a fierce warrior if needed, and is an exceptional archer. She also views the Earth as her canvas and flowers her paints, and any particularly beautiful nature scenes or flower beds are often described as "Serranai's art."

Kora is the goddess of Summer and the Sea. She is depicted as a pirate queen of sorts, a sailor and adventurer with a golden cutlass, olive skin, and long raven hair. She is often seen wearing jewelry made from fish bones, sea glass, and sapphires. It is sometimes believed that sailors who get lost at sea have joined Kora's crew.

Celestine is the goddess of Autumn and the Sky. She is depicted with very very dark skin and cloud-like coily hair that is pale golden like morning sunlight and iridescent. Her dark black eyes are said to be full of stars and she wears an intricate silver gown with a delicately embroidered starmap. She keeps rain, sunshine, snow, and wind in glass bottles on her shelves and will sprinkle them down onto the earth from her home in the clouds.

Mortanne is the goddess of Winter and the Beyond. She is depicted as very pale with long white hair who always appears as the same age or just slightly older than the person she is speaking to at the time of their death. She drives a black funeral carriage drawn by white ghostly horses, and will drive the spirits of the dead to their afterlife while talking to her passenger, asking them questions about their life and prompting them to reflect and take one last opportunity to learn and grow. It is said that the moment you fully understand what kind of life you have lived and what sort of afterlife you have earned is when the carriage will arrive at its destination.

The Building

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"This community has been in this state for five years already?" For a vampire that is a mere blink but for the humans here, well, he's shocked more of them haven't gone mad.

"My apologies for assuming," he repeats the gesture with his own hand over his still heart, and a bow of his head. It's for the best, really, if he doesn't go shaking people's hands. They would be shocked by the cold, waxy feel of him.

"I'm sorry that your predecessor has gone missing. You must have been close to have taken up the position in their stead? I must admit that the more I explore your village, the more stories of such tragedies I uncover. You all have certainly fallen on some hard times, but I am impressed with your remarkable resilience." All that is designed to sound like an answer to the question without giving much away personally. But he will add one little bit on, "Much as it is distressing to be here, I've been met with mostly warm hospitality. I'm in no position to complain."

Perhaps they have gone mad, in quiet, unsettling ways. Degas wouldn't claim to be entirely of sound mind after so long. Once a man has a few deaths under his belt the bar for normal tends to shift.

"I'm certain it must be custom where you're from. It's much the same here," But the preacher waves off Erik's apology regardless. "I wasn't chosen so much as I was volunteered, but the Temple has been a part of my life, professionally or not, since my earliest memories." He pauses a moment, smile quick and tight. "It tends to keep me out of trouble."

His expression grow contemplative at Erik's observation, a slight nod in agreement. "I'm glad you've been welcomed as you, and the others, should be. Have you given any thought to how you might want to spend your days?"

"It is, yes." He doesn't comment on if he participates in religion where he's from. Best leave that be.

"Chosen or volunteered, you have still stepped up to the duty well enough. You seem respected by your peers." Much as he is dying to ask more about what involved Degas in this church from so young an age, he fears that might be a bit too forward. He'll keep it in mind.

"I am giving a great deal of thought to it. That is part of why I am here. I am trying to find where I may best fit. You may make me your pitch, if you wish."

Degas merely gives Erik a polite nod of the head, a tight smile at the praise. Truth be told it sits uncomfortably on his shoulders.

"I merely have some suggestions," He says with a hint of a chuckle. "Depending on your disposition, naturally. If you are so creatively inclined, the village finds itself bereft of artisans, painters, writers, poets and the like. Or perhaps start up a new venture, although that will take time and brass. The mayor is eager to have new hands on deck, but we can't foot the bill for everything unfortunately. I'm not sure the other avenues for brass will suit someone of your, ah...stature."

"Alas, I was more the collector and admirer of art than a creator of it," Erik says wistfully. All that time he had on his hands and still he could not seem to develop much of a talent for any craft. "I am a decent writer and orator, but I lack for creativity."

His expression does change to show some interest in the idea of starting his own venture. This would not be the first time. Degas is right, he will need resources to do that. He will need, potentially, an investor. The town won't be it. He knows that now for certain.

"What do you judge my stature to be? I am curious what kind of first impression I make. Go on, I will not be offended." Or, if he is, he will keep it to himself.

His brows raise slightly. A collector of sorts, not one to do the work, perhaps but the hand to guide it. Degas considers these points carefully before answering.

"You strike me as a leader. Although the title of Lord would suggest such, I mean that in the more...lived in sense. I fear the mayor may have to keep an eye on her desk lest you eventually take it over," He adds the last with a deep chuckle. "Whether ruthless or kindly, time will tell."

"I was, yes. I had a flock of my own, you could say. It was my responsibility to tend to them. But your mayor need not fear me. I would act as an advisor to her, perhaps take the position if she wanted to abdicate it, but truth be told I am not interested in staying here long term. I would like to return to my own people."

"I'm certain that's a sentiment shared by all of you newcomers. Just as we would like to return to the normal order of things." Degas pauses, hands clasping together.

"With dedication I'm sure we'll come to an agreeable outcome for us all. Don't you agree?"

"Yes, well. Seeing as how our other option was, apparently, death, we'll all just have to make the best of it." Not that he won't also complain.

"That is my hope, that we will each find an outcome we can live with... though, hopefully not in endless perpetuity." With the exception of himself, he supposes. But immortality is going to become nigh unbearable if he has to spend the rest of it stuck on one little craggy island.

"It won't stick, if that's any consolation." Degas remarks frankly. "A day or two and you'll wander back as the rest of have."

He sighs, tired smile playing across his lips. It's his hope as well, but hope is harder to carry every single day this misery continues.

"But that's a problem to face for later. Please don't let me hold you here with too much chatter of such matters." That's a bridge Erik could cross later.

"No. I hear it won't." It never does with him.

Erik offers his hand to shake as he gives his farewell, "Thank you for your time and hospitality. I do not promise to become a regular, but you will see me in here again."

Degas gives Erik's hand a firm, brief shake. "Of course, but if you do need anything you know where to find me."

He nods and turns his attention to the next person in the line, clearly a villager from the familiarity between them. Tending to his flock until they all left in better spirits.

The Temple of Sacred Roots

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