Danith Santiv XII was an unassuming man-much younger than you might think of a religious icon, hardly older than 20. Clever green eyes and unruly red hair were usually hidden beneath a dark colored hood that the priesthood favored. He didn't adorn himself with gems or gold-as like most of his laymen, he lived a thrifty existence...
"...And lo, Danith was given a mere bucket of water by his captors. No bread, no meat, nor warmth of clothes. He was unshod and unclad, and stripped of all the valuables he had once coveted. In time, he would reflect that the bucket of water was all he ever really needed. He spake thus~'A man need not shun wealth entire, but he must certainly be able to endure it's absence. A true believer balances the needs of the spiritual, and the material.' "
~Meditation on Finding Silence, Fourth line
He had come to the church as a boy, really. Unlike many of his formers, he was actually distantly related to the original Danith-the previous Danith had died suddenly, before he could name a successor-a tragic accident. The church had suffered a time of trouble, as many different candidates placed names forward, calling for elections even. The church might even have sundered, had he, that young boy not been forward as a compromise...
But, he liked to think it was something of a step up from his previous existence.
...
Danith steepled his fingers in silence, looking down at the map of new Ledlin. As a tendency, he rarely spoke out loud. his position required a delicate touch. All followers of the Church of Empty were taught that raised voices and meaningless words were something of a luxury-even a sin. Some of the more diehard followers took vows of silence for life, never speaking a single word...and there were darker rumors that some removed the tongue. or vocal cords so they would not ever be tempted to break their meditation.
Danith did not put much stock in rumors.
...
Ledlin. Last he heard there were nearly 50,000 people living in it's sprawl. All in need of enlightenment...of peace brought through silence. He had chosen two areas in the city to place small churches-their congregation was ever growing, but always needed more space, more money, more men to tend to the flocks...
Some of his Council of Seven had argued that it would be better to build more churches in the upper class areas, that to help the poor they first needed to assuage the rich-the original Danith had always taught them to balance charity with common sense. You couldn't help the poor unless the rich were prepared to give a fair share...still, he thought it would be best to spread the word to the masses, before appealing to the pockets of the nobles. While many in the high towers thought nothing or little of those small folk beneath them, the mob did have a combined voice that could shout down armies, bring down governments, and tear down walls...moving the little gears helped to move the big gears, he recalled. As Danith had said-a thousand whispers, can become a yell-yet silence can be maintained.
The church funds would be stretched by the construction, of course. He would have to ask his members to dig deeper than before, to work hard. He himself had decided it would be a good showing if he got his own hands dirty. He had long believed that soft hands were a weakness he couldn't afford. Soft hands did no labor, they made nothing by themselves-they moved others and eventually forgot the sight of their own blood-thus, it was easier to spill others...
He was shaken from these reveries by the sound of his wifes voice softly singing in the kitchen. He smiled, thinking good things-the taste of a apple pie she was no doubt preparing, and the warm lips of a woman you treasured with your life, great as silence itself, perhaps. She was singing an old Bokuran shanty..the tone was dark (Most of the old songs were quite dark), but her voice made it beautiful. He had known even before had had become Danith. In a way, Amelia was his only connection to his old life...and even that had been something of a difficulty. Many members of the old sect enforced silence not only on themselves, but others-and hence shunned the company of close relations, meditating on silence and charity. He could not doubt their devotion, but such a life was not to his liking...and being The Danith had some small benefits, after all. He had relaxed the restrictions on those of the clergy taking friends, wives, and lovers.
...My dear friend, this is you and I...
Today I speak to you across the divide...
Of years and of distance of life and of death...
Please let me speak freely with my silent breath...
...Yes, silence was the blessed path to order...but there was beauty and love to be found in a measure of chaos, as well. He had thought these things often, but was not sure how to teach them. Many of the older priests were set in their ways-set like stone. Of course, the stone survives the rivers flow...but it doesn't really go anywhere...
As usual, his thoughts rolled about from place to place. So much he wanted to do. So much he wanted to accomplish!
But for now, just the one step, he reminded himself. Danith had not found silence in a day, after all.
He took out a long pen, to begin charting the location of the next houses of worship in his poor handwriting. He could not know, but it would annoy any number of historians who would document his writings in the decades to come.
Action: Begin construction of two churches-one medium church in the middle of the market, and one small church between the lesser and greater slums, respectively named "The Reliquary of Light", and the "Silent House".
Call on donations of labor and material to help fund the construction from the populace-even a single brick or an day of labor is worthy in the eyes of Danith. Though make sure those skilled in construction oversee these gifts and their use. Danith himself helps to build the smaller church.
Also, what's the public identity of the three 'heroes'? Do I know?
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Topic: Slayers of Kad-Kabul - Heroes/Factions (Read 8339 times)