Priestess of Castle D'ior - Part 01

Ursa Blacksong - Mid-Autumn of 113 YSTR

Castle D’oir - Winterlunde

…

Upon first stepping into the Sanctuary Chapel Ursa found herself nearly overwhelmed by the pure volume of raw magical energy that filled the chamber.

“Most Impressive” The orb in her hand commented.

“Indeed.” Ursa had to agree.

To be honest it was rather hard not to be impressed by the amount of magic that had been employed by the former priest of Castle D’ior to protect and maintain the Sanctuary. A chamber secured by a complex layering of protective charms and preservation magics used to ensure that the chamber would never experience passage time.

No wayward speck of dust allowed to settle on the well oiled bench seats nor any holy relic allowed the opportunity to be ruined by the idol passage of hours and days. Not that Ursa’s herself had much experience with such forms of magic but in her rather limited experience with such spells used to maintain the temples and holy sites of the order tended to fade after only a month or two at most before a new batch of spells would need to be cast. The spells cast here upon the Sanctuary Chapel of D’ior were still in effect nearly a full five years after the priest's death with no hints to it fading anytime soon.

“How did they say he died?” The Orb asked softly.

Ursa drew her finger over the well oiled bench seat pausing a moment to rub her fingers together feeling the stain still wet on her fingers. “ The former priest of D’ior was in his early 80’s and in good health by all accounts. One night he simply went to bed and died peacefully in his sleep, or that’s what I’ve been told.”

The Orb was silent for a moment. “A pity, clearly the man was well versed in the divine arts. He no doubt would have had a great amount of knowledge to pass on to his chosen successor had he lived longer.”

“The man had served as the priest of D’ior for nearly 30 years. To pass peacefully in his slumber is a blessing that we should all be grateful to experience.” Ursa noted aloud as her gaze turned from black wooden benches to the snow like white marble depiction of the Holy Mother that dominated the far side of the chamber. A small quiet prayer escaping her lips as she lowered her eyes in reverence to the sacred image. “ That said, I believe that he was a former member of the Gray Order so he likely has a journal or ledger that he kept track of his daily duties and responsibilities or more simply just recorded whatever came to mind on any given day.”

It didn’t take long to find the former priest’s ledger which lay open on the altar to the goddess resting between a copy of the Book of Psalms and a Tome of Rituals. The writing upon the open pages still appearing as if it had only been recorded in the page the night before.

“Winter of 108 YSTR.” Ursa read aloud. “ Reading from the Holy Text - Book of Psalms - Winter - 63rd Day - Thou art my Goddess; early will I seek thee out: my soul thirsts to know thee, my flesh longs for thee in this dry and empty land where no water can be found."

"It would seem our friend knew his end was near." The Orb commented.

Ursa nodded her agreement. " It would seem so."

...