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Post by perry on Jun 5, 2020 15:19:24 GMT -5
The High Septon gave a level headed nod, his face firm giving nothing away. "There is always room for those of faith in this or any Sept, I would be happy to count you and your lord father among that number." He assured her. "The work of the Faith is never done, and it draws its strength from the faithful after all." He inclined his head slightly. "For now enjoy your freedom, your Grace, your husband the King awaits." He turned back toward the crowd and continued to descend the steps, the Warriors' Sons moving to follow.
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Post by Royal Joker on Jun 5, 2020 17:00:26 GMT -5
Margaery simply nodded and quickly moved along toward her father and freedom.
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 9, 2020 13:09:33 GMT -5
Blonde, sweet faced, blue eyed. Pure, innocent. Septa Tyene led a procession of her sisters, old and young, that circled the Sept of Baelor thrice reciting prayers and praises to the virtues of the Mother. In the courtyard, a priest in rags was preaching to an assembly of the downtrodden. Tyrell soldiers stood alert on duty, watching a group of poor fellows flagellate themselves for falling into temptation. Warrior's Sons stood before the gates of the Sept itself, a score of armoured knights in constant, silent vigil. At the day's end, Septa Tyene came inside to pray once more, this time to the Father above for deliverance from evil. Before they entered blessed Baelor's Sept, she and her Sisters washed their feet with water and cloth, wiping away the dirt and cleaning the blisters they had endured during the day's toil. Sinners had repented, the poor had been fed and clothed, and more recruits had come to the Poor Fellows at the Septa's urging. It was a good days work.
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Post by perry on Jun 9, 2020 13:51:16 GMT -5
The High Septon was, as he always was, doing the humble work that would be done by servants and small folk in most septs. He could be seen scrubbing the statues of the Seven, though the statues themselves already looked spotless. The man wore simple uncolored wool, a tight spun bun resting beneath a cowl that covered his head. His beard was thick, but well trimmed, and he was instantly recognizable by the sharp bird-like nose that protruded from his face.
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 10, 2020 12:04:06 GMT -5
"Your eminence."
Septa Tyene offered the High Septon a graceful curtsy. The Sparrow wore no symbol of his status, and many novices often mistook him for a simple low cleric. But the girl's bright blue eyes were keen, and paid swift attention to detail. She gave him her sweetest smile.
"I can help you, if you wish. I would be honoured."
Tyene was holding a cloth and a pail of water, collected from the river.
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Post by perry on Jun 10, 2020 12:29:29 GMT -5
The mud brown eyes of the eyes of the High Sparrow turned toward her, a horsehair brush clenched tightly between his boney fingers. His skin was rough and warn, and he seemed confused by her intrusion at first. “Yes, child, of course. You may.” He replied, his voice was like gravel, but beneath the beard he gave a slight smile in return. “Though I do believe my work here is finished..” He thought a moment, as he placed the brush inside his trusty bucket. “I must wash the feet of the needy that have come, before sundown, would you join me? Septa..” He let the sentence remain unfinished, as he had yet to be introduced properly to the new sister.
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 10, 2020 15:47:49 GMT -5
Though the statues were spotless, Tyene got to work nonetheless.
"Gladly, your eminence. Septa Tyene. I came on the ship from Dorne, with the Princess Myrcella. I could not wait to serve the Faith at Blessed Baelor's own Sept."
Not that she looked particularly 'Dornish' to those in the Capitol - fair skinned and blonde haired, her face was as honest and bright as the sun itself. But the accent, to the trained ear, was unmistakable.
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Post by Royal Joker on Jun 10, 2020 16:10:26 GMT -5
Queen Margaery and her brother, Loras Tyrell, have come to the great sept to meet with the High Septon.
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Post by perry on Jun 10, 2020 16:29:06 GMT -5
"Dorne, yes, a far way off." The Septon nods, retrieving his brush from the bucket. "It is an honor to serve in any sept, dear sister." The High Septon replied, leaning down exposing his ankles and his blackened feet apparent in this crotched position. "Some of the best work is done in the most humble places, I would not have come here at all if the Faith had not been in need of.. direction."
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The steps of the sept are still swarming with Poor Fellows, some flagellating themselves, other passing out food, one of the High Septons many Sparrows was speaking to a crowd of smallfolk. The great gates of Baelor's Sept were guarded by the Warriors' Sons, the same holy warriors that had guarded Margery during her time in captivity, and during her trial. Queen Margery and her brother Ser Loras are allowed inside, passing beneath the many colored glass globes of the Hall of Lamps. When they make it into the sept proper they see the High Septon busy at work, beneath the watchful eyes of the statues. he is washing the feet of a number of particularly unclean commoners alongside a number of Sparrows and a few of the Most Devouts.
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Post by pontifex on Jun 10, 2020 17:30:40 GMT -5
Qyburn arrives to speak with the High Sparrow.
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Post by perry on Jun 10, 2020 17:55:10 GMT -5
This day the High Septon was out, in front of the Sept, finishing a sermon to a throng of smallfolk and Poor Fellows. The Warriors Sons kept a close eye standing a few steps above the High Septon. He was preaching of the scum and villainy present in the city, and how the issue could only be solved with faith and dedication to the seven. As his sermon came to an the smallfolk began to disperse and the Poor Fellows returned to their duties. The High Septon began to slowly ascend the steps, if the Master of Whispers wished to speak now would likely be his chance, it was known that the High Sparrow had little respect for men that worked in the shadows.
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Post by pontifex on Jun 10, 2020 18:09:06 GMT -5
"Most Holy High Septon." Qyburn began, with a smile. He didn't mind the treatment, perhaps if more saw him shun a simple sinner his support might weaken. "I come as messenger from the Queen." He fell to both knees in the cobbled street and bowed his head as he spoke. "If you would allow me to speak."
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Post by perry on Jun 10, 2020 18:35:27 GMT -5
The High Septon turned, on the floor Qyburn could see the gnarled black feet of the seton, thick yellow stained toenails jutting out like knives. "What have you come for, her trial is being prepared, I thought it best to give her time to retrieve her Kingsguard." He said, gesturing for the man to stand. "But, the Faith will not wait much longer." His eyes narrowed. "I have heard of you, faithless, banished from the Citadel for unnatural research."
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Post by pontifex on Jun 10, 2020 18:50:35 GMT -5
He rose slowly. "I am but a simple healer, most holy. The Mother above guides my hand, but the Stranger ever hovers above my work. Both whisper to me in turns, and I act accordingly. Alas, ambition is not valued as highly as conformity in the Citadel. As an ambitious man unhappy with the status quo yourself, I am sure you can relate. Send me some of the city's poorest, basest, and most afflicted with deformities, the crippled, and diseased, and I will prove my worth. I have performed..." He trailed off, smiling through the side of his mouth. "But enough about myself, pride is a sin after all. I am come to deliver a message which may aid in the Faith's preparation for trial. The Queen intends to demand a Trial by Seven, a most ancient rite."
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Post by perry on Jun 10, 2020 19:13:12 GMT -5
“The Seven heal men, not mortal hands.” The High Septon scoffed. His eyebrow raised at the Queen’s request. “I have already decreed that the Queen will face a Trial by Seven.” The man replied, his mud brown eyes inspecting the old former-Maester. “I intend to have the trial shortly, I have given the Queen ample time to assemble her representatives.”
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