Hellhounds of Providence

Voices Arguing in Unison

R'eldrun, the seat of power for the temples, sat as a monolith in grassy plains backdropped by the jagged mountains that bordered it. Though its history is shrouded in mystery, many believe R'eldrun was personally crafted by the gods themselves since its architecture didn't match any known civilization. The building was a massive complex with five wings that were each dedicated to one of the gods and housed its most senior worshippers. Impossible spires curved into and pierced the sky in ways and at angles that no normal building material should be able to hold, yet the cold gray stones held. Those who called its halls home lived like ants as the hallways, rooms, and doors of R'eldrun were normally nine meters tall with the central chamber of worship being over fifty meters in height.

"Greetings, Arbiter." The clergy in R'eldrun took no issue with this, quite the opposite in fact, they felt humbled to be in such massive halls. To live in a structure crafted by the very gods you worshipped was one of the greatest blessings they could receive.

"Good morning, Arbiter." One downside of living in such a large structure was that voices often echoed further than you would think. A letter had arrived a day prior from a knight whose horse collapsed from exhaustion when it arrived, and the contents were revealed in front of a large gathering of followers.

"G-Greetings, Arbit-ter." In hindsight, allowing one of the clergy to read it in front of others was a mistake as the news the letter bore flooded across R'eldrun in a matter of hours and caused a massive uproar that needed to be quelled.

"...With every greeting, I feel another one of my hairs turning grey," Arbiter Hoxton quietly complained and ran a hand through his short black and grey hair. Despite being in his early forties, Hoxton almost had a head of completely grey hair from the responsibilities he shouldered every day as Arbiter. His flowing violet robes and golden stole shimmered under the light that spilled from towering stained-glass windows into the massive hallway Hoxton was hurrying through. As his title would imply, the Arbiter acted as a mediator between the temples and his words were final within R'eldrun's halls.

"The assembly hasn't even started yet, Arbiter," his assistant reminded him. The assistant was a man in his late thirties whose bald head glinted in the sunlight. "Though, given the context, I doubt it will take very long."

"True, at a glance today's topic is one that can easily be dismissed." Only two positions in the temples were above Hoxton as Arbiter: Saints of each god, and The Harbinger of Zulm. Saints were rare to grace the world which gave them an alluring mystique as they executed their god's will, but they weren't so uncommon to cause this level of bustle. The Harbinger of Zulm, on the other hand, was closer to being a myth or legend as the last time someone claimed to be Harbinger was during Urldrusk's founding when the first king of Urldrusk was said to have been guided to the site that would one day become the capital city of Gorinville by a man claiming to be The Harbinger of Zulm before he disappeared from history. The fact a new Harbinger had supposedly appeared during a war and that they were an eleven-year-old wizard was more than enough to be skeptical of the claim, but the claim still required an official assembly due to the witness.

"Greetings, Arbiter!" Two clergy in flowing light grey robes greeted Hoxton as they stood outside the massive wooden doors to the central chamber of worship where the assembly would be held. Upon giving them a nod, the two men pushed open the doors and Hoxton was met with a tidal wave of deafening voices. Due to the room's massive size and mostly empty interior, voices bounced and echoed no matter where you were which on a normal occasion wouldn't be that bad; but today it was like the entire chamber was screaming. Shouts came from all angles as everyone voiced their opinions and it was a wonder how things didn't turn into a brawl.

"!!!" But as soon as Hoxton took a single step into the chamber, silence snuffed out all sound. As if by instinct, Hoxton's very presence regained control over all those gathered, cleared their minds, and brought them back to reason. Hoxton and his assistant walked up the aisle toward the center of the chamber where a raised platform of black stone waited for them. The central chamber of worship was a massive circle with each quadrant being divided for each of Zulm's children while the center, marked by the black stone, was where the Arbiter would stand and mediate the gathered flock. The stained glass windows depicting previous, and future, saints bathed the room in a myriad of colors adding a surreal atmosphere to the gathering. Watching silently from the ceiling was a mosaic depicting a massive eye surrounded by letters from an unspeakable language; the letters looked like they were shifting due to the light. When Hoxton reached and climbed up the black stone he adjusted his stole, took a deep breath, and gave a wave of his hand to start the assembly.