Post by Syrus on Mar 11, 2006 23:07:56 GMT -5
The Shrine itself is a massive structure, decorative and designed as a place of worship. But behind the farthest wall of the Shrine is a special place, blocked only by a small red gate, made of the wood of the rare giant Sequoia. The gate is enchanted with so many astonishingly horrible curses that the cleaning maids still talk about that one girl who tried to get in, looking to steal some of the Dark One's valuables. No, I won't be telling you what happened to her. Not until you touch the door, that is. But enough about that. If one has the proper clearance and refrains from invoking the wrath of the gate, one is allowed to enter into a most wonderful chamber. This chamber is much smaller than most are in the Temple, but it is nevertheless over two hundred meters long and several hundred wide. This special place is the home of Syrus Korodin, and he is very comfortable with its roominess.
The chamber is divided into many smaller rooms that all branch off of the "living room" style area that one enters when first passing through the gate. These rooms are mostly similar to what one would find in a normal home. There is a bedroom, a bathroom, a dining room, and so forth. Knowing Syrus, though, it can safely be assumed that there are other, much more unusual rooms in this place. But at this point,Syrus is in the bedroom, a chamber roughly twenty meters wide and the same length. A young girl, no more than fifteen and coated in blood, is held tight in his powerful arms. He lays her down gently on his large antique looking bed, and draws the covers up to her neck. It is always cold in this place, and few can stand it for long.
The bedroom is one of the few places in the Shadow Temple that a layperson might find aesthetically pleasing. One wall is dominated completely by a bookshelf made of cut crystal, full to the brim with his personal collection of tomes. Beside the bed there is a nightstand where lies a set of Tarot cards, a scarf, and a few books for his bedtime reading. Beside that is a magnificent bureau almost seven feet tall and stuffed full of clothes. But the tidiness ends about there. All around the room, all against the walls, are various bureaus and pieces of furniture that consist entirely of drawers. These drawers are full of his personal things, and he keeps many things atop them as well. Syrus, by nature, is not an extremely tidy person. But he does keep the floor clean himself. The floor is one giant mosaic composed of thousands of tiny precious and semi-precious stones. Amusingly enough, it depicts St. George slaying the Dragon.
Unlike most of the great Temple, there are no obsidian pillars within this room. There are four small pillars made of sparkling rose quartz, situated so that each is ten meters away from the other. Syrus has a strange love of symmetry, in most but not all regards. Aside for the pillars, there are many other beautiful things on the actual walls. Numerous paintings from around the world, looking like those befitting a private collector, dominate the obsidian walls. Many of them are things that one would not expect to see in such a place. There are paintings of beautiful moonlit landscapes, flowers blooming in spring, and several Ansel Adams photographs above the bed. But then there are the things that one expects, like the paintings of the Grim Reaper, works of Bosch, and several landscapes being lit on fire by massive, screeching dragons. Overall, I think one would say that it is a nice place to sleep in.
Syrus looked over at his young charge from a desk located beside one of the rose quartz pillars, and chuckled darkly.
"What am I to do with your disrespectful little self, Roan? I will be introducing you to some friends in the Chambers when you awaken, I guess. But for now, you need rest."
He rose and began silently making his way out of the room. Just before he reached the exit, something made him stop. He spun on his heel and approached the bed that stood square in the center of the room, a smile playing about his features.
"I almost forgot..." said Syrus, raising his wand. Something silver began to fight its way out of the tip of his wand, writhing and moving spasmodically from side to side. In a few seconds this silver thing had fallen from the wand and onto the bed. It crawled like some disturbing slug up to Roan's face, and slipped into her open mouth. There was a bit of a commotion in there, visible to Syrus by the jiggling of her cheek, and then everything was quiet again.
"Enjoy that new tongue, Roan. But if I get anymore lip, I might just have to take it out again. And your lips, too, come to think of it."
He chuckled at his well-timed play on words and left the room, deciding to go and have a bit to eat.
The chamber is divided into many smaller rooms that all branch off of the "living room" style area that one enters when first passing through the gate. These rooms are mostly similar to what one would find in a normal home. There is a bedroom, a bathroom, a dining room, and so forth. Knowing Syrus, though, it can safely be assumed that there are other, much more unusual rooms in this place. But at this point,Syrus is in the bedroom, a chamber roughly twenty meters wide and the same length. A young girl, no more than fifteen and coated in blood, is held tight in his powerful arms. He lays her down gently on his large antique looking bed, and draws the covers up to her neck. It is always cold in this place, and few can stand it for long.
The bedroom is one of the few places in the Shadow Temple that a layperson might find aesthetically pleasing. One wall is dominated completely by a bookshelf made of cut crystal, full to the brim with his personal collection of tomes. Beside the bed there is a nightstand where lies a set of Tarot cards, a scarf, and a few books for his bedtime reading. Beside that is a magnificent bureau almost seven feet tall and stuffed full of clothes. But the tidiness ends about there. All around the room, all against the walls, are various bureaus and pieces of furniture that consist entirely of drawers. These drawers are full of his personal things, and he keeps many things atop them as well. Syrus, by nature, is not an extremely tidy person. But he does keep the floor clean himself. The floor is one giant mosaic composed of thousands of tiny precious and semi-precious stones. Amusingly enough, it depicts St. George slaying the Dragon.
Unlike most of the great Temple, there are no obsidian pillars within this room. There are four small pillars made of sparkling rose quartz, situated so that each is ten meters away from the other. Syrus has a strange love of symmetry, in most but not all regards. Aside for the pillars, there are many other beautiful things on the actual walls. Numerous paintings from around the world, looking like those befitting a private collector, dominate the obsidian walls. Many of them are things that one would not expect to see in such a place. There are paintings of beautiful moonlit landscapes, flowers blooming in spring, and several Ansel Adams photographs above the bed. But then there are the things that one expects, like the paintings of the Grim Reaper, works of Bosch, and several landscapes being lit on fire by massive, screeching dragons. Overall, I think one would say that it is a nice place to sleep in.
Syrus looked over at his young charge from a desk located beside one of the rose quartz pillars, and chuckled darkly.
"What am I to do with your disrespectful little self, Roan? I will be introducing you to some friends in the Chambers when you awaken, I guess. But for now, you need rest."
He rose and began silently making his way out of the room. Just before he reached the exit, something made him stop. He spun on his heel and approached the bed that stood square in the center of the room, a smile playing about his features.
"I almost forgot..." said Syrus, raising his wand. Something silver began to fight its way out of the tip of his wand, writhing and moving spasmodically from side to side. In a few seconds this silver thing had fallen from the wand and onto the bed. It crawled like some disturbing slug up to Roan's face, and slipped into her open mouth. There was a bit of a commotion in there, visible to Syrus by the jiggling of her cheek, and then everything was quiet again.
"Enjoy that new tongue, Roan. But if I get anymore lip, I might just have to take it out again. And your lips, too, come to think of it."
He chuckled at his well-timed play on words and left the room, deciding to go and have a bit to eat.