IV
The Cleric
* * * *
Dear Keiter,
We thank you for your interest in joining the Isiran clergy and taking the time to fill out the requisite forms in triplicate. Regretfully, we are unable to extend an offer to join the clergy in an official or wandering capacity. The idea of a kobold serving our goddess is, frankly, weird.
We've looked through our archives and found no mention of this miss Kettar you mentioned in your letter, though it did seem that some of the senior clergy knew her. Unfortunately, their recommendations were not sufficient to have your application approved, but rest assured that you-- like all seekers of pleasure-- are welcome to worship our Lady of Joy and you will be welcomed into Her embrace when the inevitable does come.
To answer the question you posed in your introductory letter, the temple of Isira does not offer a 'mail correspondence course' in clerical training or interspecies oral pleasure for your particular species. If you wanted to write such a manual, however, the temple would be willing to compensate you for it.
As a priest of our Lady of Joy, I applaud your efforts to become more than your race might normally allow but as a human being, I have to admit, I don't think
any
temple would allow you access to their priesthood. A kobold? Really?
I wish you all the best.
Sincerely,
High Priest Colin Marshal
Temple of Isira, City of Starscale
* * * *
T
essarie had gone quiet over the last fifteen minutes as they slunk through the tight alleys of the merchant quarter. Barely ten words had slipped past her lips and every time Sarah turned to her, she shied away from her touch. Despite Sarah's best attempts, the girl-- young by elven standards, anyway-- didn't show her any of the warmth that had been in her eyes hours before.
Dragging her into this fiasco had probably put a damper on her feelings, but it was beginning to irritate Sarah. Finally she stopped the girl and placed her hands on her shoulders. They locked eyes and her brow furrowed warily. Sarah smiled.
"I hate asking my patron for anything, but especially for His magic to help
me
when I can do it myself. . . I needed to buy us time."
"Time for what? Where are we going,
Sarah
?"
"I have a friend in this quarter. A priest. . . I think we could use some divine inspiration, don't you?"
The girl's shoulders slumped.
"What have you gotten me into?"
"Humorous story, really, I'll tell you about it when we get to the temple."
"We should go to the. . .
er. . .
city defenders."
"Guards?"
"Guards."
"To do what, explain to them how I came across a dragon's gold? Certainly, not."
The girl huffed and pouted.
"With that silver tongue of yours, you could probably deceive them. That is what you enjoy doing, is it not?"
"A matter of necessity, my dear."
Sarah cupped her cheek gently. This time she didn't recoil, instead looking up to Sarah as though she had all the answers. She wanted to believe it too.
"Much like your beauty, I believe the owner should be the arbiter of who hears-- or sees-- what they want said and seen. Seems only right, don't you think?"
The girl frowned and looked down at herself, pulled her cloak tighter around her slender frame and sighed.
"To you, I would never lie."
Sarah lied smoothly and kissed her forehead.
"Come, we shouldn't tarry outdoors, lest your beauty catch the eye of more than just the alley cats."
With another quiet huff of resignation, she fell in step beside Sarah, glancing around warily as though the shadows would jump out at them. In a few moments they were at the 'temple' Sarah had mentioned; a run two story house on the end of a dead end street with an overhanging balcony that sported an array of drying herbs and flowers which crinkled in the wind like chimes.
On the large door was a bass relief depicting an open Lilly blossom along with temple hours on a plaque beside the door, barely clinging on to the moldy plaster. Tessarie eyed the structure warily and then glanced up to Sarah.
Sarah smiled and pulled the door open, stepping aside to usher her in. She paused, caught between moving and staying still. Another glance at Sarah and then the street and she stepped in with Sarah right behind her.
The main foyer was awash with muted light from spark lamps, proudly displaying dozens of pieces of art that ringed the crumbling walls. Tiny makeshift pedestals fashioned from bound twigs held up hand made amphorae that looked positively childish even before one considered the schemes that looked as though they'd been finger painted on and never properly cured.
The art, by contrast, varied every bit as much as their location on the wall. Stick figures, watercolored landscapes and poorly drawn portraits fought for attention at every level of the wall, including a particularly mediocre portrait of Sarah herself placed about chest level. The little plaque beside it read: "The Maiden of Redemption".
Sarah had to smile at that.
Tessarie wrinkled her nose as she looked around. "What's that smell?" She slipped her arms around Sarah's and instinctively stood behind her for protection.
Sarah smiled and lead them to the door near the back of the chamber. "That, my dear, is the smell of an Isiran temple."
"It smells like sex. . . and wine."
"Mmhm." Sarah pushed the door open on a smaller, longer chamber that looked as though it was a re purposed dining room. The floor length windows had been covered over except for a portion of the top so that they cast slats of sunlight across the bare carpeted room and pillow beds that were bunched up at random angles. Atop of one of those beds a man was playing a mandolin horribly off key, wearing little more than a pair of shorts that barely contained his raging hard on.
Across from him, in the shadow of a poorly made pot with a dying plant reaching for the sunlight, a young woman had her legs wrapped around a man's back. Her back arched as she climaxed, running her fingers through her lover's hair as she moaned the name 'Isira' low and throaty-- turned out that she was actually a he.
Sarah inclined her head to the mandolin player as she passed. In the deeper recesses of the room she found what she was looking for. A solid wooden altar draped in fine cloth-- the most expensive Sarah had seen in the entire building-- stood atop three steps that raised the altar to about her chest level. Behind the altar was a step ladder meant for something really tiny to climb up and stand behind its out of place glory.
In the middle of the drapery was a beautiful Lilly flower suspended in a chipped bowl. Sarah slicked her hair back behind her ears and sipped the water, murmuring an entreaty to Isira. When Tessarie didn't follow suit, Sarah gave her an encouraging look and leaned towards her. "You're in a temple, dear, let us not make enemies of the gods too, lest we have no hope at all, hm?"
"B- But--. . . This isn't a temple!" She whispered sharply. "This is a hovel!"
A reptilian hiss caught both their attention from behind. At first they didn't see anything but then they looked down to see a kobold looking up at them with bright yellow reptilian eyes. Judging. Appraising. When he spoke it was in a high pitched, sharp tongue. "Hovel! Sss-not a hovel! Iss temple, to one goddesss of joy! Pleasse, ssshow respect!"
Tessarie screamed, jumping behind Sarah. "Eek!" She pointed at the kobold standing in front of them. "M- Monster!"
The little kobold barely stood to Sarah's thigh but something in his presence had changed in the last year since she had seen him. His dusty scales seemed softer and the long muzzle of his jaw was stronger set, more purposeful. The flowing robes were a new touch too. She couldn't help but smile as she knelt down and hugged him. "My friend!" The kobold said softly.
His voice still tickled her ear, even after all this time. A familiar warmth brushed through her core as the memories came flooding back. She nuzzled into him and chuckled. "It has been too long."
"Y- You know him?!"
"I do!" Sarah stood slowly. "I'm the reason he's here with a temple to worship in."
After the initial flash of revulsion passed, the young elf stepped back, seemed to catch her bearings and then frowned. "B- B-" Tessarie motioned to the altar. "This?" then the rest of the decrepit room. "This!? This is not a t--"
"Dear." Sarah cut her off. "Where gods dwell, where there is belief and
faith
, there is a temple. Don't let the humble nature of it fool you." The elf looked at her defiantly and Sarah stared right back at her.
"B--"