Bartheyamus walked briskly into his chambers, closing the door gingerly behind him. He looked around his new quarters, making sure everything was as described in the letter he had sent. The room was made entirely of stone and was adorned with archways and alcoves. In the center of his chamber, a granite idol of a phoenix.
"Good," he spoke quietly "Perhaps now I can worship in peace."
No stranger to discrimination, this vampyre was fond of his spirituality and his progress in attaining inner-peace where his traumatic past now lay.
He set his pack in a small alcove which was hallowed out beneath the stone slab in which he would sleep.
He hung his cloak, gloves, coat on a hook in the room. Dressed only in fine black pants and a frilly jabot, he paused to study the room once more.
There were no windows, good. He had inquired specifically about a room in the netherregions of the castle so he may pray, meditate, and practice his magick in solitude.
It wasn't so much that Bartheyamus despised company as he was just content with his own solitude. His cross to bear was one of a solemn journey of isolation, and devotion--at least that's what he was told.
He undid his belt now whixh held his Master's rapier and his knife and placed it on the hook as well. He was assured that he didn't need them now, he sensed no danger here.
He conjured up a small ball of flame in his hand as he lit the many candlebras in the room before lighting a grand fire in the belly of the phoenix. Often being tagged as "unusual," Bartheyamus hated the sun but adored ambient fire. For now, he would lay upon the slab in which he was to sleep pondering what his role would be in the Kingdom of Rosencroix.
My Sleeping Quarters
Stroage Room
Corridors
General Prayer Room
Study and Reading Area
The Altar of the Phoenix
"Good," he spoke quietly "Perhaps now I can worship in peace."
No stranger to discrimination, this vampyre was fond of his spirituality and his progress in attaining inner-peace where his traumatic past now lay.
He set his pack in a small alcove which was hallowed out beneath the stone slab in which he would sleep.
He hung his cloak, gloves, coat on a hook in the room. Dressed only in fine black pants and a frilly jabot, he paused to study the room once more.
There were no windows, good. He had inquired specifically about a room in the netherregions of the castle so he may pray, meditate, and practice his magick in solitude.
It wasn't so much that Bartheyamus despised company as he was just content with his own solitude. His cross to bear was one of a solemn journey of isolation, and devotion--at least that's what he was told.
He undid his belt now whixh held his Master's rapier and his knife and placed it on the hook as well. He was assured that he didn't need them now, he sensed no danger here.
He conjured up a small ball of flame in his hand as he lit the many candlebras in the room before lighting a grand fire in the belly of the phoenix. Often being tagged as "unusual," Bartheyamus hated the sun but adored ambient fire. For now, he would lay upon the slab in which he was to sleep pondering what his role would be in the Kingdom of Rosencroix.
My Sleeping Quarters
Stroage Room
Corridors
General Prayer Room
Study and Reading Area
The Altar of the Phoenix
