The High Church of Esdar

Hiro blinked, continuing to crunch the item in his mouth as the priestess and several other robe figures seemed to grow closer to him and watch. Finally, he swallowed and paused to think. "It's a... Hard to explain, actually. It's something you have to learn through seeing or doing."

He took another bite from the straw and began chewing again.

Hiro smiled, crunched down the rest of his strange straw and then stood from his seat and looked upon the priests and priestesses. "I would need ink, a large blank scroll and a brush. I would only need a room that can hold these things."

He paused for a moment, then a look shot across his face that corresponded with sudden realisation. His hand fell inside one of the pouches at his belt and he withdrew a small, tailed brush. "Actually, I can use this for my brush."

(Sorry my reply took so long, I've been away. :( )

Hiro blinked, not quite expecting all the commotion surrounding his offer, but none-the-less pleased by their intrigue. He found himself a nice place to sit with a decent amount of space around him and then took the lap-desk, carefully lay the scroll over it and prepared the pot of ink and his brush.

Slowly he dipped his brush into the ink and lay the handle against the side, though did not fully let go.

"To my people, calligraphy is a form of art that pays homage to words and language. Though it may be difficult to see to those not accustomed to it, each word is written in a way that attempts to to be aesthetically pleasing. Yet it it also much more than this; each stroke of the brush displays a certain skill of the hand and wrist, with strokes themselves telling a unique story. Each has an emotion implanted subconsciously by the artist,"

He took the brush and, with the tip covered in ink, touched it down to the scroll and began to slowly paint a single word in a strange, distant language.

"And together they work in harmony with the final result - the word, or words, that have been made. It takes many years of practice and study to fully appreciate, yet a master of this art can look upon a painted word and all of it's aspects. From the word itself, to the skill of the calligrapher, to each line of paint and the emotion in every swipe of the brush; a master can use these to see an entire story in his mind, to understand the message the calligrapher wished to convey."

"Yet even that isn't the end of it. A master can look upon a piece of calligraphy written a thousand years ago and from that alone he can judge the qualities of the artist. He can estimate age, gender, level of calligraphic potency and even his physical prowess and skill in fighting with the fist and the sword."

Eventually Hiro finished his word and placed the brush back in the pot.

"This scroll was small enough for this work to be quick, but some calligraphers spend weeks on a single piece large enough to cover a wall. My work here also displays one of the most difficult yet highly prized aspects of calligraphy, which is the creation of a new word."

He smiled.

"In my language, each word can be written in many different ways depending on the context in which they are used. Sometimes, a master calligrapher is able to surmise a new way to write a word and then paints it upon a scroll; these pieces become worth all the gold a king can store in his castle, for they represent the pinnacle of intellect and culture. The artist gains fame that spans the land and his skills are sought after by the greatest of Emperor's for their knowledge and advice."

"Unfortunately this piece is not such one. I have not discovered a new way to write a word, I have merely written in my language the name of your god: Esdar."

"Of course," Hiro replied with a smile as he carefully placed the brush back against the pot of ink and then stood up to leave the scroll on the lap-table. "I know it's not as interesting or as colourful to look at compared to the many great pieces of art you already have here, but I still hope at least some might enjoy it."

As he looked around he found himself letting out a loud yawn. "Oh my, my day of travelling seems to be catching up with me."

Grandma strode up to the High Church of Esdar. From asking a few questions in the street and overhearing a few conversations, she had gathered this was the place to go if she was wanting to look into the beliefs of this people. Searching for a guard or a priest, Grandma would move towards them and speak to them.


“I am a traveler and I have heard this is the main focal point of the religion of the people of Esdara. I was wondering if I might learn more about it in detail here.”


Discovering more about these people's belief and history was the first thing Grandma believed she should do. Always interested in gaining more knowledge, she was quite interested to hear about these people who had been hidden from the world at large for such a long time.

Grandma offered a smile in return to the elderly priest, speaking to him in her warmest most grandmotherly voice.

“Other than what I heard mentioned in the streets coming here, I know nothing about the Way of Esdar, unfortunately. I’ll need you to start from scratch, although I’m usually rather good at picking up information quickly. After all, gathering more knowledge is usually the reason for my traveling.”

When the priest headed off deeper into the building, Grandma would follow behind him, cane clicking rhythmically. She kept a keen eye on their surroundings, looking at the various designs and trying to gain an idea on what the layout of the building was.

Listening intently, Grandma cataloged all the information mentioned away in her mind for an examination of later. This was the type of thing Grandma had been hoping to hear about on her travel here. The mention of Xoilun intrigued her, for although they called it a demon, she suspected it was quite possibly something else. Although there were other places demons could come from, the Hellscape was where the majority of the ones in this realm seemed to be from, and in her estimation, none of the ones from it were strong enough to cause such a commotion alone.

To her, Xoilun sounded like a creature that wandered around looking for things to feed on. Perhaps something with more primal instincts that lacked intelligence and was simply feeding out of instinct. According to the story he told her, it thrived on the darkness within the people's hearts. Perhaps a creature that fed on others negative emotions? That would explain why it created a mist instead of a more direct attack. The inhabitants would have plenty of time to suffer and feel anger and hatred towards it before dying, allowing it to feed off of them more.

Of course, this was all conjecture, Grandma couldn’t even be sure if this information was accurate, as in her experience stories passed down from generation to generation drastically changed. Still, because of how isolated Esdara was, the chance that the truth had been preserved through the generations was higher than average. They also most likely meant ‘demon’ in a more generic term than most, meaning it could be referring to any number of unsavory creatures.

Then Esdar was mentioned, their sole deity. They considered it a god, but Grandma always viewed such things in a different light due to her nature. It sounded like a benevolent realm traveler of sorts to her, although the motivations of such creatures are lost to her. Still, perhaps a creature of that variety had taken pity on the people of Esdara or perhaps it had a natural dislike of Xoilun. Whatever the case, it had used a great deal of powerful magic to lift this piece of land and suspend it in the sky. Of all the parts of the story, Esdar seemed to have the most proof backing its existence, because massive chunks of land didn’t just go floating into the sky without reason.

Then the Wind Warden was mentioned. Grandma had heard mention of the other various dragon wardens, they appeared to protect whatever part of this realm they were tied to. He also mentioned the current rulers had artifacts given to them by Esdar, which was quite interesting. Grandma would have to eventually try and get a look at them to see if they appeared to be the real deal, but that would most likely be too difficult to do initially.

The final part of the tale was expected, they had banished Xoilun at the cost of some of their greatest assets. Many tales ended in such a manner, but that didn’t necessarily make Grandma doubt it. She needed to make sure to be respectful when mentioning their history, even if she viewed things in a different way, she mustn’t let such views spill out lest they offend the people of Esdar.

“Your nation has quite the rich history going just off what you told me right now. I’m quite interested in discovering even more. I will take you up on your offer of having a copy of your Holy Creed and perusing your library, as for questions…”

Grandma paused for a moment, she definitely had plenty of questions but needed to phrase them properly.

“Well, my first inquiry is, for what reason did Esdar not intervene directly in the conflict. From the story you tell me, it seems that Esdar has plenty of power, first saving your people from the mist when they were at their weakest, and then giving them the tools they need to defeat Xoilun. Do you believe it was because he wished to make the people of Esdar more self-sufficient?”

Grandma hoped the man wouldn’t be offended about questioning their god's motives, but she wished to ask the question. Depending on the answer, she would be able to gauge how the people of Esdara generally viewed their deity.

Nodding at his words, Grandma appeared to be satisfied with the answer. Going by what he had said, it seemed they didn’t consider Esdar all powerful, which was a good thing. It would make asking questions about him a bit easier as they probably wouldn’t as touchy as a religion that believed their deity all powerful.

“Although I would like to meet the Blade and Crown, I’m not sure if I would be able to meet with them very easily. I assume they’re both quite busy with their duties here, but if I get the chance I shall do so…”

Grandma would raise the scroll handed to her and unroll it slightly, glancing at a few lines before rolling it back up and storing it within her robes. She would read it later, for now, she had a few more questions for the priest.

“You said that Xoilun isn’t actually destroyed completely, simply waiting in another realm and regaining its power. Are there any prophecies or warnings giving on when he might return, or do you not expect such a thing to occur for a very long time?”

(For Grandma)
"Gaining entrance to the Palace is the hard part. The gates open once a month to permit the common man in, where they bring their entreaties to the Crown. But as you can imagine, it's quite the line to get in. I can try to put in a word for you, but no telling whether or not that would do any good."

The aged priest chuckled at that, well aware of his own importance - or lack thereof. He looked intently at Grandma as she brought up her next line of questioning.

"That's information I'm afraid I don't possess, either. If there is such a prophecy, it's solely in the hands of the Blade and Crown."

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(For Hiro)
"Very well then, I'll have a meal brought up and a bath prepared. Please don't worry about repaying us - Esdar's will is to treat those around us with kindness and compassion, whether they are of his land or not."

The priestess bowed and exited the room. Within a few minutes, Hiro would hear a knock on the door, and in would come a few other priests and priestesses, bearing a tray with simple food and drink, and a tub which was set before the fire, and quickly filled with steaming water. Bowing their way out, they'd leave him be.