Awakening 1

[SciFiGuy]

[OOC NOTES] I'll be posting a search for interest in a plot line later but before I can do so I need to pick some locations and set dates. That stuff will emerge from the prose as I write. Below is the beginning of an intro for the protagonist. Do me a lemon and don't interject just yet.]


The sun cast a comforting red light through the huge plate window overlooking the mountain range outside. Long shadows stretched across the wooden floor of a sparse but practical room, their tips pointing fatefully at the man sitting dead center on the floor.

An expression of fitful contemplation lay over the man’s face. The rich, red, light accentuated the lines etched into him by middle age and illuminated the heavily furrowed brow that spoke of a troubled meditation. He wore the inoffensive grey robes of a monk and naught else though he was not bald, possessing a naturally pleasing arrangement of graying curls which, like his straight, broad, horns, seemed alight with some foreign blaze in the evening shower of the penetrating red glare.

The book of dreams was left discarded in front of him, face down but with its edges perfectly aligned to the walls of the room. Sultus had closed the book for the last time, having taken from it all that he could.

 

[SciFiGuy]

[OOC] I'm writing in really short time blocks and also reading up on lore. This section feels messy but I can always come back and edit it. Just setting the plot node really where he goes and talks to his friend and situating the scene in the universe. Should perhaps add links to this post as well.]

The white star shone brightly, slowly blasting itself into nothingness at the center of Iruotol. Hanging there, in the local portion of the infinite nothingness between things, was a tiny, opalescent, orb, Maekardan.
From the vantage point of the orbital habitats the vista below was nothing more than a smear of mixed colors. Some blue, a little green, a shade of red and brown.

As the perspective falls through the atmosphere the shaded region is revealed as a mountain range, the fingers. It's peaks and spires appearing to lean slightly, as though in deference toward, the sprawling farmlands below. This was the Zharin Enclave.

The tallest spire is possessed of a building, an elegantly formed, airy, structure whose central courtyard was open to the elements as though to receive the gift of some grand new insight. Into the northern most part, at the foot of the dormitory tower, entered Sullus.

 

[SciFiGuy]

Sultus found himself troubled by the raging incongruities between his evolving thoughts and established scripture. He had come to the monastery to rid himself of such feelings. The vigil was renowned for its openness to interpretation but this had created a great many contradictions between established sects that apparently went unmentioned even among those with an active theological interest. So much was dependent upon the Iromakuanhe cultural context. Perhaps it was this lack of universal application that left so many things unanswered or riddled with logical inconsistencies.

As he wallowed in these thoughts Sultus noticed the widening grin of his long time friend, Pullar. Pullar, as always, listened attentively, his keen mind habitually challenging Sultus with a kind of humorous socratic obstructionism that helpfully dogged his every mental step. They sat on a bench in front of the courtyard fountain.

"Well even if we overlook the sheer arrogance of what you're saying here it sounds like you still need to get your thoughts in order. You could try issuing a request for comment."

"Go public?!" Sultus' eyes widened as he assumed the visage of a man staring out at some Sisyphean labor.

"Sure, you need to do a better job of relating this to the faithful."

"That's just it Pullar, does it really all have to be about us?"