Darkanism/Amaarents Sermon

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Amaarent walked through the streets of Siver towards the small temple of Darkanism. Lots of things had been popping up, stopping her from keeping the planned ceremony, but tonight she finally had the time for it. She noted the merchants near the temple, selling pigeons and other small animals for sacrifice. She smiled because there were many people heading towards the temple. The people of Siver had embraced the faith quite well.

As she walked up the black stone stairs towards the temple doors, the people made way for her and bowed in respect. Tonight it was not because she was the duchess or the queen, but because she was the High Priestess of Lodril. The gray robe she wore told as much. The golden linings and figures in it left no doubt in anyones mind as to who she was.

The temple doors were open and the fires burned on both sides of the entrance. The entrance hall was well lit and the people there gave way for her as they did on the temple stairs. Amaarent noted a few monks who emerged from the sleeping area door on the left. The time for the ceremony was nearing since they were heading toward the purification room. Amaarent continued walking onwards.

Lines had formed in the purification room as people wanted to cleanse themselves before entering the altar room. The followers of Sigrid were using fire as usual and the follower of Darka were using ash. The line in front of Lodrils altar room made way for Amaarent and she quickly got to the cup that was filled with white sand. She sunk her hands in it and washed them. She then proceeded to enter Lodrils altar room.

The altar room was filled to the brims with people wanting to hear her sermon and to present their sacrifices. There were all sorts of birds and even a few sheep and goats. Amaarent walked up to the small podium and the people fell silent.

“Fellow followers of the middle path, the path of Lodril. Let us give thanks tonight for the world is in balance and the ground solid beneath our feet”, Amaarent continued the sermon for quite a while, much longer than was usual for she had a lot to say. The people listened to her in silent respect. “Now, faithful ones, let us show Lodril our appreciation. Bring the sacrifices to the altar.” Amaarent walked to the altar and pulled out the ceremonial dagger. The first peasant came to her and offered a live chicken. Amaarent took the chicken and held it against the altar with her other hand and said, “Lodril, accept this sacrifice and look kindly upon the giver”. The ceremonial dagger struck and the chickens blood flowed on the altar. Amaarent held the now dying chicken high so the blood dripped on the altar. Some of it landed on her gray robe.

“Your sacrifice has been accepted”, Amaarent said to the peasant, who bowed and made way for the next one. The ceremony continued and by the end of it, the altar, as well as Amaarent robe, was covered in the blood of all sorts of animals. After the last sacrifice was offered, Amaarent turned to those present and said, “Lodril is pleased and gives you his blessings. May your way always be in the middle.”

With that, the ceremony had ended. The altar room slowly emptied and Amaarent was the last to leave. The temple had quieted down quite a bit as she made her way back to the ducal palace and the hot baths that were waiting for her.