[1 BBT] Intersection of Faiths

[Maverick]

OOC Note:
Continuation & reposting of the original thread from the past forums.
Characters of the Drakari CelestialImperium have previously been RP’ed by @taisenbot

Stoinian Star Kingdom,
Paragon,
Traian’s Market - Amphitheatre of Piety
28/04/1620 PD

 Nearly a month had passed since the Stoinian Embassy on Pax Dracon had been opened. The Drakari proved an open and cooperative people. It was clear that the Drakari were more religious compared to the other star nations the Stoinians had met so far. Both the Treecuu and Ryccians remained largely atheistic, but High Legate Umberto Berrocal saw an opportunity in the Drakari’s faiths. Together with the Planetary University of Paragon he organized a large festival of religions. Both Drakari and Stoinian religions would come to the forefront and would converse with one another. This would hopefully strengthen the bonds between the two nations and help build stronger economic ties and understanding. The Drakari certainly were the most promising candidate to debate philosophy and religion.

 Paragon was chosen because of the planet’s philosophical status. Although on its moon, Alqamar, was inhabited by the descendants of the Marcavani, High Legate Berrocal took the risk and understood from his previous experience that the Drakari were an understanding people. Besides, the Stoinian government didn’t actively repress them and let the Marcavani evolve on their own now. No hate would be held towards the Marcavani of today for they no longer posed a threat and weren’t the individuals who had pillaged the Star Kingdom during Traian’s reign.
 Traian’s policy of cultural preservation affected the new colonies from the Golden Age. Paragon was dedicated to preserve the Yaltopyan culture from old Terra. Once these people inhabited the horn of Africa and ever since have had a strong Christian tradition. With the Philosopher-King’s religious reforms, the ancient Yaltopyan faith had been brought under the larger Stoinian Orthodox Church. Now Paragon had its own Patriarch, Derartu Abebe, and he would help organize this large religious event. The festival would take place in the Amphitheatre of Piety on the eastern side of Traian’s Market.
 The Market was large and hundreds of religious figures were converging and greeting each other as the markets were open and selling many traditional and religious fruits. The stones of the market were that of a sandy marble native to the planet. It wasn’t as coarse like sand, but maintained its colour despite being refined. It was early in the morning and the birds were still singing as did the many merchants on the market, but not early enough for the Imams to sing out at dawn. Trying to convince the large religious conglomeration to try and buy some of their fresh foods. The Drakari certainly would be curious as the many merchants would expose them to new fruits, grapes and even tapestry. Not only was the Paragonian nature a sight to behold, but its people as well. The Paragonians were more open than most Stoinians, eager to debate philosophy and religion. Understanding others was a central pillar for them and they sure would welcome the Drakari with open arms.

 Patriarch Abebe was close to the stairs that led to the Amphitheatre. He was joined by several of his religious peers from the various Stoinian religions. Namely Rabbi Azriel Mizrahi (Judaism), Cardinal Tsega Amrat (Stoinian Catholicism), Imam Badr al-Din (Stoinian Islam), Pastor Oddvar Sandberg (Stoinian Protestantism), Pontifex Gnaeus Barbatius Taurinus (Deus Sol Invictus), Miko Kotoe Nakamura (Shintoism), Granthi Lajpal Dahal Singh (Sikhi), Rinpoche Kelden Dorje (Buddhism), Guru Jayesh Bhardwaj (Hinduism) and Professor Reginald Smith (Atheism-Agnosticism). They conversed about the recent contacts with multiple xeno species and if it would affect their religions while waiting for the main Drakari religious figures to join them.
 - “I certainly hope these Drakari don’t try and dissuade our faiths. It would be foolish to do so.” Pontifex Taurinus stated.
 - “Oh I’m curious if they themselves would see them part of our castes. Perhaps they have their own castes systems?” Guru Bhardwaj added.
 - “From what I hear, they seem more similar to my faith. Perhaps a sign that the Catholic way is indeed the true way.” Cardinal Amrat was adamant in his belief.
The bunch laughed. All agreed their religions were but different interpretations of the same truth, but a little of friendly competition never hurt their debates.
 - “Oh, dear friend. You Catholics never learn do you. I for one hope the Drakari will try to challenge our beliefs as we do on each other’s.” Patriarch Abede conciliated.
 - “If they wish to challenge us in a physical duel, I’ll be more than hope to accept. Do you reckon some of their religions might be martial?” Granthi Singh asked.
 - “Given their long existence and longevity, I think they might be true followers of peace.” Rabbi Mizrahi voiced his hopes for peaceful partners.
 - “Or they have concluded that there is no such thing as a God?” Professor Smith took the opportunity to tease his fellow Stoinians.
 - “Professor, please. You should add a bit of colour to your life.” Pontifex Taurinus retorted.
 - “Oh I have seen plenty of colour on my house’s walls since my daughter finally discovered crayons!” Professor Smith sneered back.
 The Stoinians laughed and continued to speculate on the mysterious Drakari until they arrived at them.

---

 The shuttle upon which the main Imperial delegation was due to arrive in certainly had a good sense of timing, touching down a short distance away at their designated landing pad with far more grace than a spacecraft ought to possess. The passengers would be no doubt discussing who would step out first before even a semblance of an agreement could be made. What was agreed upon, however, was providing something less of a shock by allowing the Drakari priests to step forth first, the airlock and boarding ramp hissing open towards the amphitheater.

 Eight of the saurian aliens there were at the forefront as they entered the view of the Patriarch and his colleagues, their garb as varied as the color of their scales and the pattern of their horns. One, a green-scaled individual clad in a simple white robe and a simple silver pendant in the shape of two hands joined, their smile serene and gentle as they inclined their head at the group.
 The next seemed the complete opposite, their red and gold robes accented with a breastplate and bracers emblazoned with a fiery sword, stern and unyielding as bright yellow eyes swept across the area.
 Between the two stood a rather fidgety yet cheerful-looking Drakari of grey scales, dark purple robes dotted with what could only be described as a network of silver constellations, marveling at every little detail of architecture and symbolism around them. No doubt their mind was racing with piecing together what the meaning of each carving, each seat, each holy symbol meant, barely containing their excitement.
 Trailing silently behind was a black-cloaked figure that, had it had it not been for the swishing of their tail, they likely would have been dismissed as a faceless shadow. The only thing that could confirm they were one of the Drakari priests was what appeared to be a pendant of carved obsidian, shaped like an hourglass formed from a reaper’s scythes.
 The next seemed to clash with their colleagues’ sense of fashion like a skycar did with a wall, a mishmash of earthy-brown robes and beast furs that served only to accentuate their bright blue and yellow scales and gregarious smile. This individual in turn was closely followed by a figure clad in silken robes that shimmered like ice on a cold winter’s morning that all but blended into their silver scales. Even their pendants seemed to compliment this; one of gem studded flowers and golden shafts of wheat, the other a simple bare circle of white.
 At the forefront of them all stood two Drakari. One clad in an elegant robe of silver and blue, the patterns flowing like waves upon the shore, their neck adorned with a golden pendant in the shape of perfectly balanced legal scales, their black scales and emerald eyes beaming cheerfully to their hosts. The other an aged-looking individual with gold scales and bronzed horns that swept back and upwards towards the heavens, fleshy tendrils of scales at the front of their upper and lower jaw like a beard of scales, clad in white and red robes adorned with the symbols of the other seven arranged across a seven-pointed star. No doubt a unifying figure amongst their priesthood.
 The group slowly came to a halt, regarding the Terran scholars with a respectful countenance.
 The Drakari religious figures certainly were… Mystifying. They had a certain Nova Roman aesthetic, but not quite Terran. The Drakari with his sword certainly seemed to be a Drakari counterpart of Granthi Singh. Some were more mysterious than others and the festival certainly looked promising now. Nearly all Stoinians looked in awe and curiosity at the Drakari delegation. This festival certainly would become interesting. Patriarch Abebe stepped forward to greet the Drakari.
 - “Greetings Drakari. Welcome on Paragon, the centre of Stoinian philosophy and an intersection of all Stoinian faiths. I shall present my people. In the meantime, be sure to take a little of this salted bread. For it’s an old Stoinian tradition for visitors to eat it.”

 As some young girls in traditional Yaltopyan clothes came forth with the salted bread. Patriarch Abebe presented his religious fellows. He first pointed at Rabbi Mizrahi. A tad shorter on the Terran standard due to his old age, but he still thrived with enthusiasm. As the Rabbi nodded his head, his curls twirled yet his kippah remained ever on its place.
 - “This is Rabbi Azriel Mizrahi. He will represent the jewish faith of our Kingdom. The first Abrahamic religion from Old Terra.”
 Next was Cardinal Tsega Amrat, the Cardinal of Paragon. Like Patriarch Abebe, he was the largest authority of his faith on Paragon and was of Yaltopyan decent. The man was clean shaven and wore a red robe and a red hat, similar to Rabbi Mizrahi’s kippah. On his chest he had a modest but shiny cross.
 - “Cardinal Tsega Amrat of the Stoinian Catholic Church. Like myself, the highest religious authority of his faith on the planet. Also an Abrahamic religion.”
 Imam al-Din wore simple white robes and sandals. Like the two gentlemen before him, he too wore a hat similar to the jewish kippah, but with different blue colorations. Unlike the Cardinal, the Imam had grown a respectable beard despite his relative age.
 - “Imam Badr al-Din, a priest of Stoinian Islam. The second largest religion on this planet and reformed by the famed duellist Tavi Rouhani. The youngest Abrahamic religion from before Stoinia was even an idea.”
 Pastor Sandberg was one of the religious leaders “imported” for the festival from a far away planet in the Qingdao Sector. He wore a black robe with a white neckerchief. Like the Cardinal he was clean shaven, but didn’t have the ridges thanks to his young age.
 - “Pastor Oddvar Sandberg. A preacher of Stoinian Protestantism, a continuation of a religious rebellion from Old Terra against the Roman-Catholic Church of old. Luckily, this time around to no internal wars were fought.”
 The Stoinians cheered on the Patriarch’s comment. Next was the fashionable Pontifex Taurinus who wore an exquisite red toga with pride alongside plated armbands. The Pontifex had a respectable curly beard and jet black hair.
 - “Pontifex Gnaeus Barbatius Taurinus. One of the Pontifexes of the revitalized religion Deus Sol Invictus. An ancient religion of the Romans, whom shared many linguistic similarities with yours.”
 Next were the eastern religions and their clothing showed a drastic difference compared to the rest. First up, was a young woman named Kotoe Nakamura who had actually travelled all the way from Shikoku. She wore a black kimono with a towering hat. The young lady smiled as she bowed respectfully with her hands hidden in her sleeves.
 - “Miko Kotoe Nakamura. This young and fine lady came all the way from the planet of Shikoku where our Kings learn how and what it means to lead our people based on the teachings of the Shintoists.”
 Next was Granthi Singh a middle aged man who just started to receive gray hair. Though it was only visible in his beard as his hair was tucked away neatly in his orange turban. Singh wore an orange robe similar to the Pontifex, but it exposed more of his fit and muscular body. His moustache was curled and revealed a warm smile. In his belt a small sword which was a bit larger than the traditional small kirpan all Sikhs were required to wear.
 - “Granthi Lajpal Dahal Singh a proud warrior and preacher of the Sikhi faith. A faith of warrior, hence his sword.”
 Then it was the turn of the bald and clean shaven Buddhist monk. The young man was visibly from an other ethnicity which prominently inhabited the Qingdao Sector. He too came from a far away planet, but made sure to only take his essentials. A small bowl and his clothing. His orange robe were tucked in a similar fashion like Granthi Singh, but exposed less of his body. A true humble man, he bowed respectfully with his hands put together.
 - “Rinpoche Kelden Dorje. Although his faith says there is no God, it does lead him to live a very pious and faithful life.”
 On the left of the Rinpoche was Guru Bhardwaj. He had looked of a similar ethnicity as the Sikh Granthi, but was clean shaven. He wore a simple but detailed set of clothes and on top of his head sat something similar to Granthi Singh’s turban.
 - “Guru Jayesh Bhardwaj, a true Hindu in form. Though perhaps he might not be as handsome in his next life.”
 Last but not least was the Professor. The young man who just received his firstborn, stood proudly in his modern classical suit. The young man tall and blonde man had a small stubble beard.
 - “Professor Reginald Smith. He will represent those of the Stoinians who don’t believe that there is such a thing as a God or Gods. Be it outright denial or just questioning the existence or form.”
 The Patriarch wore a black robe with a large golden cross with a round white hat with a silk sheet that covered the back of his head. On top of the hat was a small cross that glittered as the sun rays shined on it. In true Orthodox fashion, Abebe had a large and graying beard that nearly covered the cross on his chest.
 - “Ah, let us not forget myself. I’m Patriarch Derartu Abebe, the head of the Stoinian Orthodox Church on this planet. The largest religion of the Stoinian Star Kingdom and a brother religion of the Stoinian Catholic Church. We too are an Abrahamic religion. Now that we have presented ourselves, perhaps you’d be so kind to introduce us to the main Drakari faiths?”
 The Drakari clad in armored red and gold robes stepped forward after the assorted priests had each accepted a piece of the salted bread (which admittedly looked rather small in their hands), their taloned hand resting upon the hilt of their (hopefully ceremonial) blade. The voice that came from it was… rather feminine, if a rough contralto, in tone.
 - “Milatia Oraka. Arch-Militant of Junaia, the goddess of war and valor. Conduct yourselves with honor, and we shall have no quarrel in our discussions.”
 The priest in the simple white robe took a half-step forward, bowing deeply to the assembled humans with their hands open, as if to welcome all to their embrace. “Venatius, plain and simple Venatius. Revered Shepherd of Shalya, the healing and merciful mother. You’ll have naught to fear of me or those of my flock.” The Drakari’s deep baritone rumbled forth, possessing an almost-grandfatherly cheerfulness to it as he rose to his full height once again.
 - “Grand Magos Augurius Glycia, leader of followers of Daion, father of sciences and knowledge. IMMENSE pleasure to visit home territory of Stoinians. Even greater pleasure to share knowledge with fellow scholars, ensures eternal progress. Prevents mutual stagnation.”
 The excitable grey fellow with the star-studded robes practically blinked over to the assembled theologians and the professor, rapidly (though thankfully gently) shaking each of their hands with what could only be called youthful excitement.
 The black-clad figure silently approached Augurius from behind, tapping his shoulder.
 - “Yes? OH! Apologies, friend! Happy to interpret as always!”
 What little of the shrouded Drakari’s face could be seen lifted into a mildly amused grin before facing the Terrans, their hands moving about in what was undoubtedly a Drakari method of non-verbal communication or sign language.
 - “‘Caretaker Nervan, a humble priest of Morii the Unseen, guide of the dead, at your service…’ Ach! Apologies! Slowing speech. Difficult to break force of habit…” Augurius chuckled sheepishly as Nervan paused in their signing to tap him on the head as he unknowingly started translating faster than the Caretaker could sign.
 - “‘The Last Companion is not one to be viewed with fear. For we are all bound to the cycle.’” The Caretaker’s stance seemed to indicate gratitude for the translation, the black robes flowing back behind the group.
 The seemingly mismatched pair would step forward, the boisterous looking priest in earthen robes and furs confidently placing her fists on her hips.
 - “Vassenia Agorix, High Wanderer of the father of the hunt, blesser of the harvest, master of love and the wild places, Aari.”
 Her counterpart stepped forth, his smile genuine if a bit dour and self-deprecating.
 - “Larisus Attius, Shieldfather of Inara, the breath of winter, the Vengeful One, and the mother of endurance. Don’t let my seemingly chilly appearance be reason to avoid me.”
 The blue and silver-clad Drakari stepped up, the pattern flowing like the sea as a clawed hand was laid upon her chest.
 - “Grand Judicator Caecina Vakari, priestess of Verenor the Justice-maker, the father of civilization, just law, and the sea.”
 The somewhat aged gold-scaled creature next to her smiled, those fleshy tendrils along his muzzle flowing gracefully as he bowed to his hosts.
 - “Ecclesiarch Parrakas, Father of the Seven Undivided and steward of the Holy City on Pax Dracon.”
 The Stoinians were intrigued by the Drakari. They were different, but they couldn’t sense an inch of hostility towards them. Even though some looked like it. The diverse group of Drakari were then faced again by the Paragonian Patriarch.
 - “It’s seems our appointment with death will have to wait for some time. Though I am relieved. And no worries Arch-Militant Oraka, honour is in no short stock on Paragon. Even so, Granthi Dahal is more than compensating for it. I hope your flight wasn’t too tiring? We still have plenty of discussing to do!”
 Even as Oraka nodded approvingly at the Patriarch’s words, Augurius was quick to respond, his gums flapping as rapidly as they were moments ago.
 - “Quite the opposite! Observing Warp transit always exciting, hum of ship systems soothing.” He took a deep breath before grimacing sheepishly. “Galley probably needs to restock on caf…”
 - “Augurius, my friend, leave that to the ship’s quartermasters,” Venatius smiled serenely as always as he pat the fidgety priest’s shoulder. “Regardless, the Patriarch speaks truthfully. There is much to discuss, and still others more to arrive. What inquiries do you have of us?” The blue-scaled Shalyan turned his smile to the assembled humans.
 - “I suggest we first introduce the basic beliefs from each religion or dedicated deity. After each religion, all parties may inquire on the presented religion. Our star nations have yet to fully understand the scope of each other’s understanding. I take it you agree with the sentiment?”
 The Patriarch smiled again at the Drakari. Reassuring them that they are welcome.
 - “Our aides are ensuring the last details. Meanwhile, how do you like our planet of Paragon? I hope you have seen quite a bit of our beautiful planet.”
 Vassenia let loose what could only be described as quite possibly the most bombastic and cheerful bout of laughter from a single individual in recent memory, the furs and beast bones that adorned her robes shaking vigorously.
 - “In my opinion, both by observing from orbit and in the shuttle descent, this world has an arid beauty that makes it shine all the brighter! Myself and the acolytes who accompanied me are quite looking forward to traversing and hunting among the dunes further inland as tribute to Aari’s blessings, should time and local authorities permit.”
Augurius nodded vigorously, his excitability climbing by the second.
 - “Agreed! Would like to make observations of local flora and fauna, study evolutionary adaptations to local pressures and resources.”
 - “Personally, I’ve always been fascinated at how society manages to set roots in even the most inhospitable locales,” Caecina said as she looked at the domes and minarets with an approving smile.  - “Life, and most importantly civilization, ultimately finds a way.”
 The Stoinians were surprised by the Drakari’s attitude. They seemed such alike when it came to the subject. No fear of hunting, but actively partake in it! From the vegetarian Treecuu to the scared Ryccians, this was a sight of relief for many Stoinians. The enthusiasm of some of the Drakari when it came to Paragon was astonishing to some. It seemed that they understood each other concerning the environmental symbiosis. Paragon was a prime example of this symbiosis. When it was colonized in the prime of the Golden Reign, the Stoinians had long found the balance of sustainable colonization. And now it was admired by far off travellers. It couldn’t help but bring smiles to most of the entourage. Imam Badr al-Din was one of these Stoinians.
 - “Well perhaps we should organise with Mrs. Agorix and her acolytes a hunt. The dhuga hunting season is slowly coming to a halt. Though perhaps those brave enough will take on the challenge of hunting mogull lion! Those not suited for the thrill of the hunt can still visit the beauties of the Selassie valley and admire the great river. I’m sure Granti Singh will take the lead for the mogull lion.”
 - “You can count on it friend. I take it it won’t be too much of a challenge for the High Wanderer?”
 The Sikh Granthi clenched his hands on his fists and put them on his hips. With he lifted up chest and a high chin boasting his thick beard, it was clearly a friendly challenge.
 The High Wanderer’s almost feral enthusiasm practically radiated off of her, stepping up to the Granthi to carefully place a hand upon his shoulder.
 - “Master Singh, consider that challenge accepted! What say you to a friendly wager, eh? Quickest tracker gets the greater share of the hunt?”
Augurius, on the other hand, practically lit up at the invitation to explore the valley and the river that lay within. Even those not adept at reading more reptilian faces could tell that the wheels were turning in his skull, no doubt drudging up knowledge of shared evolutionary trends and the survival methods of plants and animals that dwell within arid regions.
 - “Excellent! EXCELLENT! Will need to make a brief return to the ship after initial talks. Single datapad insufficient for data analysis, cataloguing new discoveries.”
 - “All in good time, my friends,” Parrakas chuckled softly as he approached. “But first, I think it only fitting that we get settled in. We have much to discuss, and clerics from other species in the Imperium have yet to arrive. Speaking of which, I must apologize in advance if the Sinthari delegation appears… unnerving at first glance.”
 The Stoinians looked frowned at Parrakas. Just what exactly would these xenos look like? Casaria and Pax Dracon had agree to a gradual visa system. Over time more and more species of the Drakari Imperium would be able to travel to Stoinia. The Ryccian government saw this as a racist policy which they couldn’t abide by. Since then there have been a few instances of racist interactions, which the Stoinian government did its best to prevent it. The Drakari, in their ever patient nature, agreed to the Stoinian policy. Thus the species like the Drakari, Sinthari, Yapatha and Drakari Terrans were allowed. Others like the Cariscoid and Sosans were deemed to confusingly with the Mardakii and Qoxex, two species the Stoinians had crusaded against. The Sinthari were reluctantly accepted though their appearance might confuse some zealous Stoinians that they were demons.
 - “Please Parrakas, we’ve all been informed. Besides we’re all religious individuals who believe God created Terrans in his image. Why should it have been different with other species?”
 There was some unease amongst the Stoinian delegation, but now was not the time to polarize the situation. The goal of this festival was to build bridges and understand both sides on a religious level. So far Granthi Singh, Imam al-Din and High Wanderer Agorix seemed all on the same page. The festival was promising, but Patriarch Abebe was prepared for any fearful incidents.
 - “Wisely put, Patriarch. I merely deemed it prudent to at least give advanced warning, is all.” The Ecclesiarch raised a hand placatingly, his smile apologetic.
 Augurius looked like he was about to speak, only for his ever-fidgety attention to be drawn behind him.
 - “AH! Sinthari delegation here. Excellent!”
 Near the entrance of the amphitheater, a figure of crimson skin, greying black hair, the tips of his ears just peeking beyond those greying strands, and of Human size and shape strode in, clad in dark violet and gold robes, decorated in runic script. His expression seemed to indicate he was either a stickler for tradition, or that he had never smiled a single time in his life, accentuated by the spurs that stood in place of eyebrows and the fleshy tendrils that hung downward near his lips. Behind him stood two others of his kind, standing just over two meters in height and carrying a ceremonial poleaxe, the blades shaped in an almost crystalline manner.
 - “Ecclesiarch, it is good to see you again.”
 - “Likewise, Lord Ikoral.”
 Agorix subtly rolled her eyes as she whispered to Singh.
 - “Great. They had to send the one Kitsai with no sense of humor…”

[Maverick]

A Sinthari couple.

 Patriarch Abebe couldn’t help but feel a cold shiver going down his spine. Most of the Stoinian delegation felt a similar feeling, though they were good at hiding it. From the initial looks of it, it appeared to be some sort of red Cheunh. Though those tendrils were clear distinctions from the species the Stoinians had grown friends with. While a bit scared, all Stoinians present hoped to overcome this fear.
 - “Welcome to Paragon Lord Ikoral. I’m Patriarch Derartu Abebe, your humble host. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here.”
 The Patriarch smiled with confidence. He had learned to mask his emotions well from previous interactions with annoying members within the church. Granthi Singh turned towards Agorix and replied in a jokingly tone with no malintent.
 - “Well, perhaps it’s a good thing that they are within your nation and not ours. Humor is a very important aspect after all.”
 He was sure the Sinthari would explain what these Kitsai were. The rest of the delegation was equally curious to this red creature.
 Ikoral would turn his piercing red eyes to the assembled Stoinians, his stern expression unchanging even as he bowed respectfully.
 - “I look forward to your hospitality, Patriarch Abebe. As chosen representative of the Kitsai priests for this… exchange, I am happy to share my knowledge.”
 His guards remained silent, even as they slowly relaxed their grip on their axes. Where their charge seemed thin (no doubt due to his lineage), one could not fault them for looking being compared to mythological Terran heroes in terms of their build. Both, however, seemed to have more than their fair share of spurs and ridges upon their cheekbones, jawlines, and brows. Even their forelimbs seemed to sport a set of bony ridges.
 - “Do not be alarmed by the Mansatzis. Their sense of obedience and discipline is second only the Drakari’s legionnaires, even with their ferocity. Especially those who have pledged their service to my House.”
 The red priest waved a clawed hand nonchalantly, his lips quirking up for a fraction of a second with what could only be described as genuine pride.
 The Stoinians didn’t know what to think of them, even the Patriarch seemed perplexed. They all assumed they were some sort of caste base society, which was quite rare within all of Stoinian societies. Only the Shikokan culture had something similar, but one could easily change from caste however. It was a core ideal of the Stoinian Religious Reforms by the Philosopher-King Andrei I after all. Every Terran should be able to arise to the highest orders. While some clerical roles were still only allowed for males, the spirit of those reforms are still felt to this day. And if anyone felt it, it was the prideful Pontifex Gnaeus Barbatius Taurinus. He grazed his beard with his right hand after taking a sip of wine. Finally he stepped forward and reached out his hand, shaking his golden armbands in an effort to emulate the Sinthari spurs. His white toga coloured with red pattern seemingly imitated the Sinthari’s skin colour.
 - “Pontifex Gnaeus Barbatius Taurinus. Forgive my curiosity, but might I inquire what these Kitsai and Mansatzis are exactly? Am I perhaps mistaken in assuming they are some sort of caste?”
 - “You are in fact NOT mistaken, Pontifex,” Ikoral nodded faintly as he reciprocated Gnaeus’ gesture. “There are three castes for my people, though more an indicator of lineage rather than the hard-set, birth-determined roles they were in the past: the Kitsai are the foremost scholars and priests, the Mansatzis form the bulk of our warriors, and the Zukuru our merchants and artisans. However, nowadays all groupings are upon equal social footing due to the formation of the Great Houses and the High Council some millennia ago.”
 The crimson-skinned alien released the man’s hand, his fingers steepling downward towards the ground.
 - “For example, in terms of both my bloodline and my chosen education, I am one such Kitsai.”
 Ah so a caste based upon willingly following traditions and bloodlines then? I take it you Sinthari are also quite religious yourself then?"
 Pontifex Taurinus was curious, though perhaps his tone wasn’t quite as diplomatic. He figured they faced such criticism every now and then. Besides if it backfired, the Shintoïst Priestess Nakamura would be there to draw parallels with her culture.
 - “More or less. Some of the Great and Lesser Houses are more devout, others more secular.”  Ikoral could feel a twitch of irritation in his left cheek tendril, too subtle for the humans to notice, as he brought up what he viewed as the more blasphemous families.
 - “However, one thing remains a constant among all, regardless of whether or not we revere a god or gods: our reverence for our ancestors.”
 - “<Your pardon, Lord Ikoral,>” Nervan signed to the Sinthari, “<But are there not sects among the Kitsai families who still practice the Old Arts?>”
 - “That is… a complicated topic. But rest assured I shall gladly indulge any inquiries of mysticism as time wears on.”
 The Stoinians weren’t sure what the black cladded Drakari had asked or replied with its signs. However, it appeared it will resolve itself with time. Miko Nakamura herself now stepped forward.
 - “I see, quite similar to my own Shikokan culture. Perhaps even our faiths would be alike each other. I’m certainly looking forward to our talks.”
 The Priestess bowed respectfully with her hands in her wide black sleeves, revealing a large knot nearly encompassing her entire back.
 A new wave of people appeared in the crowd of the market. Patriarch Ababe had studied his guests beforehand and knew who would follow.
 “Ah, these must be the Yapatha coming towards us.”
 Sure enough, a trio of unearthly beautiful and willowy individuals, easily over six feet in height could be seen entering the amphitheater, clad in white and red robes embroidered with a ten-pointed golden star that flowed as gracefully as they moved. At first glance, they could be easily mistaken for an ordinary Human until the bronze-toned (if not almost metallic-hued) skin, bright and long silver hair, and monochrome eyes came further into view. Between serene smiles and gentle gait, one would be forgiven for mistaking the lot of them for angels come down from Heaven.

 The figure at their head stepped forward, her smile widening softly as she spread her arms, a pair of dainty, four-fingered hands that seemed unblemished and uncalloused open to the Terrans as if to embrace them.
 - “Hail to you,” the alien woman’s voice came with a slight flanging, “brothers and sisters of faith among the stars. Praised be the Light of the cosmos in its never-ending creation.”
 And embrace them she did soon afterwards, her grip stronger than her willowy frame would suggest. First the Stoinians would be wrapped in the hug, then the Drakari. Even the Sinthari would not be spared the embrace; the Mansatzis smiled widely, whereas Lord Ikoral merely stiffened, his eyes wide with confusion at the affectionate holy woman, his cheeks flushing a dark maroon.
 The Stoinians were surprised to say the least. I had seemed the Drakari’s enthusiasm could indeed be overcome. However, once face to face with a Yapatha at last, there was a subtle horrified undertone for some of the Stoinians. While they looked more like them, the subtle differences in the eyes and hands really made them alien to them. Such was their ten-pointed star. It caught the eye of the Professor and especially what the Yapatha had said. While he was an atheist, he sure studied his religions enough. He tightened his modern classical suit again after the Yapatha had cuddled him.
 - “A ten-pointed glowing star… The Light of the Cosmos. Well perhaps this might just be religion for myself!”
  To the Stoinians it was obviously a joke, but perhaps of the Yapatha, it would fire up their inner missionaries.
 - “This… Star. Does it represent the many stars which create life over and over again? The Light of the Cosmos is the centre of your religion?”
 - “It ultimately depends on what sect you belong to, brother.” The Yapatha woman’s gentle smile remained steady, even as she clasped her hands in front of her.
 - “For example, some believe the Light to be just as you say. From the cosmic cradle of nebulae to the dust of entropy and reformed again. As for others…” She furrowed those silver brows for a few moments as she attempted to explain her point. “Raised I was to believe in the Light as a singular goddess, from Her all peoples and concepts flow from the cosmos to become part of the cycle before ultimately we return to Her. When I study the culture and perspective of another, this is prayer. When offering my wisdom and mediation, my benediction.”
 The other Yapatha nodded eagerly in turn, turning from their affectionate greetings of the others. Poor Ikoral looked like he was about to turn a bright shade of maroon from it all, much to the silent amusement of Nervan and the audible chuckling of the High Wanderer.
 - “Gah! Where are my manners?” She bowed to the group, composing herself remarkably quickly despite the minor faux pas. “Grand Cleric Areyiath, at the service of you and yours. With me are Lightbearers Nehimh and Illaran.” She motioned to the somewhat younger-looking female and male respectively in her retinue (no small task considering their nigh-ageless and ethereal appearances).
  The Professor was now even more curious. Despite his staunch atheistic stance, he did admire the mysticisms of other religions. Now the Yapatha had perhaps given him a new faith. All would reveal itself during this festival, but for now the Professor had other questions.
 - “I can’t help but notice your species appearance. Your kind does indeed look young and quite similar to ours. Are there any records of your species origins?”
 - “I will admit that it is a curiosity that there are such great physical similarities between your species and mine. One that has astounded and confused scholars among both our peoples.” Areyiath’s tone took on a self-deprecating note. “I remember reading of the years following first contact; would it amuse you to know that until scans and genetic samples were exchanged for conclusive study, Human and Yapatha alike both mistook each other for their own kind more than once?”
 Illaran turned to smile at the Professor, lacking the self-deprecation briefly found in the Grand Cleric’s voice.
 - “If it is records you seek, I can try and secure reputable journals from our finest universities regarding our origins. The fossil record has been a source of much debate, but it is fascinating if you desire a bit of light reading.”
 - “Illaran, a thesis ranging from four-hundred to seven-hundred pages on comparative genetics or evolutionary biology is hardly something that qualifies as a slothful summer’s day of light reading.”  Nehimh giggled at her fellow Lightbearer good-naturedly.
 Professor Smith smile at Areyiath’s commentary on previous mishaps between the two species. Now they lived under the same roof in peace, so perhaps there was hope for xenos living alongside Terrans. Fate seemed to prove that alongside the Cheunh and the Kontauri. He then turned to the two Yapatha lightbearers.
 - “Oh not to worry. I’m a Professor after all. I’m sure my colleagues could help me digest these biological studies. I certainly am interested in the results. As of recently the Kontauri and Terrans have mistaken each other from time to time, perhaps we can use your studies as a reference for our own? I certainly look forward to further cooperation between our two nations’ universities. I’m sure you would have come to some interesting conclusions.”
 In the distance a new group was approaching. Though the delegation wasn’t sure if it would be the Kri’ghal or the Kontauri.
 The assembled delegates turned to face the newcomer, curious to see yet another trio at the entrance, either drawn by the gaze of their fellows or by the clicking of ornate footwear against stone.
 From the looks of the leader of the trio, she moved with a rather… feline grace, her grey fur and swept-back auburn hair gently accentuated by the gold and magenta hued robes that clung to her figure a bit less conservatively than most spiritual leaders likely preferred. Her smile, friendly though it was, seemed to radiate mischief to all assembled as she swept her eyes about the amphitheatre, the golden irises practically shining like beacons in a black pit. Her companions, no doubt handmaidens or acolytes in training, trailed dutifully behind her, carrying sheet-covered pillows no doubt laden with gifts or tribute.
 - “Ah, friends, it is wonderful to see you all.” The alien woman bowed deeply to the group, her large pointed ears folding back in the process, her rolling accent almost Sinaian in tone. “My apologies for the delay in my arrival. I insisted that Ikoral and Areyiath go first.”
 - “Greetings to you as well, Mirala.” Parrakas smiled to the felinoid kindly, motioning for her to rise from her admittedly theatrical bow.
 The sudden appearance of the Kri’ghal was a surprise to be sure. Their elegant movements to their more than lavish clothing. Perhaps lack their of. Like the Sinthari they gave a classist impression to the Stoinians, though few fell for her smile. Granthi Singh even put his hand on his kirpan only to be ease by the Drakari high Wanderer. Even the accent of the female in charge was familiar. Sinaian, ah yes. Though the question now arose if this was natural for her or some sort of ploy to win the Stoinians over. Patriarch Abebe took charge again of the Stoinian delegation.
 - “Ah you must be Mirala of the Kri’ghal. A pleasure to meet your feline kind at last!”
 Mirala smiled as she rose to her full height once again, her robes shimmering like water in a tide pool.

Mirala

 - “The pleasure is mutual, my friend. I cant help but admire this city as I arrived. Much of the architecture reminds me of the city I grew up in, though this is thankfully at a lower elevation than the plateau my home was built on. Views are nice and all, but not exactly ideal for those who do not wish to go on an extended drive if using a ground based vehicle or the…”
 She furrowed those furry brows of hers for a brief moment. It seems that her accent was indeed natural if her attempts at finding the right word was any indication.
 - “Forgive me, my translator is having some delays… What is the word you have in your language for the irrational fear of heights…?”
 The Professor stepped forward to greet the new arrivals. His dark blue modern suit was a stark contrast to Mirala’s clothes. Whereas hers emphasized her own beauty, Smith’s was certainly more covering and monotone.
 - “I believe our language doesn’t really have a short word for it. Though if we burrow from other Terran languages I believe the term acrophobia is what you seek. Tell us, certainly not all of your species have this fear of they build their cities on plateaus?”
 It was odd to see a xeno struggle with such banalities in the eyes of the Stoinians. Sure the Cheunh may have them, but they suppressed it and their discipline served as a second skin. A very thick one at that. Similarly, the Kontauri covered their fears with their extravaganza.
 - “Ah, thank you, my good man. That’s exactly the word I was looking for! Miraj, my dear,” she looked over her shoulder at one of her handmaidens, who promptly bowed to her charge, “remind me to make a quick return to the ship in the coming days to have my translator implant examined.”
 - “Y-yes, Aunt M-Mirala.”
 The younger Kri’ghal smiled shyly as she rose from the bow, in spite of her slight stutter. The older Kri’ghal’s smile softened into a familial warmth for a brief moment before turning back to the Professor.
 “As for your question, you are correct in that regard. However, rare exceptions to the rule are known to happen. For example, one of my sisters chose to move to a city in the lowlands not far from our plateau to avoid anything that could bring her close to such ledges. The bridges between spires and the cliff overlooks always filled her with crippling dread since she was a child.”
 - “Interesting indeed.”
 The Professor nodded at the Kri’ghal group. They seemed friendly enough and quite close. Some would have expected a more professional entourage to have been sent, but these were a different people. They wouldn’t escape from Smith’s prying curiosity.
 - “Aunt Mirala? I see this festival has become a family trip. Perhaps something I would have done as well, were it not for the fact that my newborn is mere weeks old.”
 - “I brought Miraj under my wing, and into our faith, for twofold reasons; the first being that she deserves the fullest education and exposure to new ideas and faiths, of our people and those of other species. The second, if she permits…” The felinoid woman turned to her familial acolyte, who nodded softly as she stood next to the other attendant.
 - “The second reason is to try and push her out of her shell bit by bit. She’s always been… a bit shy, growing up. What better way than to bring her to a cultural exchange with one of our newly discovered neighbors? Speaking of which, my order believed it prudent that we present unto you tokens of faith and hospitality.”
 The older of the three Kri’ghal motioned elegantly to her niece and the other acolyte, who would in turn remove the silken shrouds covering the ceremonial velvet pillows to reveal a pendant for each of the assembled Terrans. Immaculately carved jade and aquamarine, coupled with delicately applied rivulets of gold and silver, came to form what could only be described as a sort of triskelion. A prayer stone, no doubt, if the surprising seriousness and reverence the woman approached them with, beginning with Smith himself.
 The Stoinians were mesmerized by the Kri’ghal gifts. Attentively looking and caring at them, the Stoinians gave the utmost care to the pendants. After all it would be very unfortunate to let it be damaged. Though would this indeed be possible? The Professor was too curious and had to many answers that needed answering.
 - “Thank you for the kind gift. I must say Kri’ghal artisanship is most alluring. It’s worthy craftmanship even to Paragonian standards! However, it eludes me as to what these stones exactly are? A sort of ritualistic element for prayer?”
 As the lead Kri’ghal handed over their gifts to the other members, she was met with curious faces. All complementing the fine artwork.
 - “Prayer pendants they are, indeed. My people consider them a way of remaining connected to the spirits found in all things. In the water that flows from the river to the sea, in the stones beneath our feet, the air we breathe, the beasts that dwell in the wilderness, in the cities that serve as the bulwark of civilization. Even within the weapons and machines we all build and maintain.”
 Mirala’s smile soon became one of utmost wonder and delight as she spoke.
 - “Most households in the Kri’ghal Commune have some manner of shrine that serve as a means of ensuring a connection between the realms physical and spiritual. But it is on our temples and monasteries in which connections grow strongest, through ritual and meditation.”
 Patriarch Abebe was most curious about these rituals. In fact he even had plans for it.
 - “Most curious indeed. I certainly will be looking forward to witnessing the rituals in the demonstrations in the coming days. Would it be appropriate to join in these rituals as well?”
 A loud trumpet could then be heard. It played a triumphant tune and soon from an alley a giant mass arrived. It was the Kontauri.
 - “Ah, my friends here comes the Kontauri delegation. The only non-Terran race of our Star Kingdom that wished to participate in this festival. Sadly the Cheunh declined, but I’m sure the Kontauri will more than compensate for it.”

An illustration of Kontauri.

 Professor Smith couldn’t help but tease the Patriarch and added his own opinion of the Kontauri.
 - “Compensate? I think you mentioned to say OVERcompensate.”
 Despite Abebe’s many attempts to convince them to join the Terran delegation from the beginning, the Kontauri wanted in fact to make a flamboyant entrance. It is what the Kontauri loved to do and everyone had to agree, that did it rather well. Four trumpetists, played on the Kontauri equivalent of a ceremonial trumpet, lead the group of twenty or so Kontauri. Approaching the large delegation of religious officials, the trumpetists split off revealing Kontauri religious delegation. There was a clear dimorphism. The females were shaved and only had long tail of hair coming from the back of their head. They were dressed in a similar fashion as Mirala, though their clothes were much more transparent bordering inappropriate standards. The males on the other hand wore robes filled with patterns similar to the giant hair crest on their heads. The lead Kontauri was a middle-aged Kontauri and grey stirpes were already appearing in his round crest. Though jolly he was as he spoke with the sharp Kontauri accent full of passion.
 - “Ah my dear friends from other celestial worlds. I’m Priest Andilo Lotoru of the Kontauri Ascendancy. I’m pleased that our Terran friends have taken care of you so well. To greet each other proper, I insist that everyone drink of this fine bravari! What festival is this without a proper party! Let’s loosen up!”
 The female Kontauri grabbed the glasses for the religious officials. Both Stoinians and Drakari were offered a small glass of a red-brown drink with a particular strong aromatic taste. Despite the insistence of the smiling Kontauri female, those prohibited of drinking alcohol by there religion were given an exception.
 The Drakari priests would gladly accept the offered beverages from the scantily-clad priestesses, the glasses looking almost comically small in their talons. Agorix practically downed hers in a single breath, her grin wide with her usual bombastic approval.
 Augurius took a few experimental whiffs before sipping at it.
 - “Hmm… fruity base, strong earthy flavor. Nutty, almost. Aged in wooden cask?” Ever his analytical mind was buzzing.
 Venatius, Caecina, and Parrakas would take their time in enjoying the wine. The Revered Shepherd’s smile practically screamed of his simple appreciation of good company and good drink. The Grand Judicator’s appraising raise of her bony brow seemed to show her desire to learn of this bombastic new civilization. And the Ecclesiarch? He merely smiled as he intoned a brief blessing in his mother tongue.
 The Arch-Militant and the Shield-Father merely sipped in approving silence alongside Caretaker Nervan, the black-clad messenger of Morii smiling widely from beneath their concealing hood.
 The Kri’ghal delegation and Yapatha both seemed to enjoy it greatly, the latter stepping forward to embrace the Kontauri happily.
 As for the Sinthari, Ikoral almost seemed to smile. Genuinely, openly, BLATANTLY smile, much to the mild amusement of his Mansatzis guards.
 - “Hmm… rather sweet for my tastes… yet I cannot help but ask for more.”
 Andilo couldn’t help but notice the smile on the red skinned alien. As his tendrils twitched ever slightly, Andilo signed to his aides to get the man some more. He was clearly enjoying it and Kontauri customs required him to be satisfied. He approached him with a wide grin.
 - “Ah my dear friend! I see you’re quite enjoying our Brevari. Please enjoy yourself for one cannot be truly become with the Gods without loosening up a bit. Ha!”
 - “Please, Priest Lotoru. Let us not inhibit our conscience too much.” Patriarch replied with a stern look, but the Kontauri priest was just as persistent as the rest of his species.
 - “Gah, nonsense. I thought this was a celebration of ALL religions, eh.”
 - “Why yes indeed, but we shouldn’t force our visitors to… How does your kind put it? Become one with one’s innerself?”
 - “Ah, yes. I’ve been approved to host a small Celebration of Life during the festival.” Lotoru turned to Irokal “I trust you shall participate in our celebration?”
 Ikoral coughed, thoroughly flustered at the Kontauri’s gregarious nature before he regained his composure and nodded. He wouldn’t admit it publicly (indeed, he probably wouldn’t even admit it privately beyond his wife), but he couldn’t help but be charmed by the man’s attitude. Reminded him of Agorix almost, her dislike of his almost obsessive seriousness aside.
 - “But of course! The Caretaker here,” he gestured to the black-clad Moriian, “was hoping to see if I would provide an insight into my people’s more… esoteric beliefs.”
 One of the Yapatha, Illaran, would raise a hand, his nigh-eternally youthful expression a visual definition of innocent curiosity.
 - “Esoteric? Do you suggest a kind of mysticism, Lord Ikoral?”
 The Sinthari priest’s brow spurs lifted slightly at the question before ultimately nodding. "Indeed, young Lightbearer, but that can wait until later in the festival, once all are properly situated.
 - “Ah, mysticism you say? Quite an enjoyable aspect of religion is it not? Though I hope it isn’t just some smoke within you church as is so often done in the gracious faith of our host, Patriarch Abede!”
Andilo was teasing the Patriarch as good as any Kontauri could, though the native Paragonian had a patience testament to his status. Though Stoinian Orthodoxy used many candles with incense as part of their liturgy, the Kontauri smell organs registered the smoke differently compared to Terrans. To them it was nothing more but smoke, though similar products existed in Kontauri culture, their smoke was deemed pleasant to the Kontauri and unpleasant to the Terran nose.
 - “Come now Priest Lotoru, perhaps if you let the incense bring you closer to God, you wouldn’t indulge too much in your Brevari?”
 The Stoinian Professor chuckled together with the Potestant Pastor to the Patriarch’s remarks.
 - “Perhaps we should hold a religious competition with our red friend over here, eh? The consumable that brings him closest to his Gods becomes the only true way to shorten the distance between the insividual and its deities?”
 - “Perhaps, though as our differing smell suggests, each species has their own… Shortest way to the divine.”
 - “Ah, to that I can agree good Patriarch. May our red friend find his own way to the divine!”
Andilo raised another glass and chugged the remaining Brevari from it.
 Ikoral raised one of the spurs above his eyes in admittedly downplayed amusement at the banter between the Kontauri and the Stoinian representatives, and cracked a smile. The first full, GENUINE smile he had shown in the time he had arrived. The High Wanderer of Aari wheezed and stammered incoherently , as if she had just witnessed a sign of the End Times themselves, her gaze flicking between her fellow Drakari and Protectorate races, then to Singh. ‘Is this… is this really happening?!’ She blinked a few times. Surely her eyes were playing tricks on her… they were not. ‘THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING! LORD IKORAL IS REALLY SMILING! In PUBLIC, no less!’
 Shieldfather Attius couldn’t help but snicker at his summer counterpart’s confusion. He knew it was only a matter of time before either Vassenia or Ikoral threw each other for a loop, though he didn’t expect it to happen on a foreign world.
 - “Say, Mirala, how long do you think before those two finally form some kind of relationship beyond strained tolerance?”
 The Kri’ghal giggled as she watched the display, her smile roguish and playful.
 - “I reckon before the festival is done, they’ll have shared a drink or two. Don’t count on him joining a hunt, though. He’d probably send one of his Mansatzis to represent him. He always seemed more a politician than a warrior.”
 - “I wouldn’t say that. You should have seen the duel he had with Lord Sadow had a few years back. Over the latter’s fascination with alchemy, no less!”
 Priest Lotoru couldn’t help but overhear the conversation between Attius and Mirala. As every extravagant Kontauri, he of course interjected with a wide smile and a curious tone. Patriarch Abede however, was already dealing with his inner frustrations for the Kontauri had disrupted the schedule. Luckily he had planned for such an eventuality.
 - “Ah… Lord Ikoral’s a duelling man? My my, I wouldn’t have dreamed of it. Perhaps we can arrange a duel during this festival eh? I’m sure it won’t be as majestic as the duel between King Andrei and the late Emperor Molari, but quite a show nonetheless!”
 Behind Lotoru, Patriarch Abede continued with some final preparation before the many delegations would move to the large amphitheatre and officially welcome the guests from the Drakari Imperium.
 The assembled delegates each made their way to seats and looked around the amphitheater, noting the various priests and philosophers, mystics and acolytes, believers and skeptics, saints and sinners all in their own rights.
 The Drakari priests stood out most of all. Their size and mass only seemed to become all the more apparent as they took their seats, sheepishly giving their fellow attendees apologetic looks as various adjustments were made. All except the Arch-Militant, who stood vigilantly near her fellow priests, her hand hovering protectively on the hilt of her sword, and the Caretaker who quietly glided from row to row as they studied the other visitors beneath their concealing robes. Oddly enough, the latter’s presence almost felt… warm. Comforting, even. Like a constant companion that would not abandon its friends. And the High Wanderer? It would seem not even the initial seating issues could dampen her spirits, laughing and jesting with every second breath.
 The far more humanoid visitors would have greater ease in being seated. Areyiath and her Lightbearers gracefully took their place, all smiles and blessings to passersby. Mirala, with her charming smile and silver tongue, reclined in her seat with feline ease alongside her charges. Ikoral, however, held his head high like the pride of his House and bloodline depended on it, humorless and nigh wrathful in his countenance.