The first has a holy city, the capitol, that houses all the temples of the gods they worship . It is a pilgrimage site. For this culture, every person must belong to one of the temples of worship. Though they are not required to work at the temples, they are marked by the symbol and must live their lives according to the teachings of that god or goddess and they go to the temples once a year to renew their faith. The coming of age ceremonies are also held at the temples.

Their Gods-
-Xeltri: God of war and destruction. Warriors and guardians are the followers.
-Zeri: Xeltri's dishonorable brother. Theif, deserters, traitors and the like belong to him.
-Atal: Goddess of life and light.
-Starin: God of darkness and death (the male form of Atal. It is said that during the day, this diety is female and a nurturing being. At night she changes to Starin in a sacrifice to help those who need death. Kind of a phoenix message). The monks who serve Starin are what we would call healers, apothecaries, and they do autopsies. They know more about the body than anyone else.
AND
-Ishari:
The goddess Ishari is viewed as a great many things. She stands for the love between lovers, friends, family as well as bodily comforts. Those that serve her learn the arts of seduction and bodily pleasures and also taught out to console those that come to the temple. When someone wants to become a priest/priestess, they must first learn from the superiors. They read books, learn how to communicate and learn by watching others perform or enduring practice. During this time, they wear a white robe and must keep their faces covered. They must also be virgins. When they have learned enough to become a Brother or a Sister in the temple there is a ceremony and the white robe is exchanged with a pink one. Once the change is complete, they are allowed to be see 'clients'. The ceremony finishes once someone picks them and takes their virgin night. The person who had the privilege of taken the virgin night becomes that priest or priestess's main client. In a sense, they are bound to always help each other and give comfort. The priest or priestess can still meet with others and perform their sexual duties. Clients can come in and release their sexual frustrations with someone there and it is not deemed a sin since they are asking for guidance.



These people are a war-like race whose pastimes are a gladiator-like sport along with hunting and getting into wars with neighboring kingdoms/lands. Though they are humanoid they are covered in scales and have definite snake-like qualities.

Their deities only number three:
-Rak'laut: the god of war, battles, bravery and victory and supreme/father god of the race, he is the oldest of the three (the three are siblings).
-Shiibak: the only goddess of the three who deals with love, agriculture, fertility, females, childbirth, and domestic/internal problems in government/at home.
-Taekuldun: the youngest god/deity who reigns over hunting and weapon-smithing and other crafts (leather-working/tanning, blacksmithing, glassblowing, etc)



The Banr'Kalat took the temple of Ishari hostage to sacrifice them ritually instead of simply killing them (which, in and of itself, is a ritual sacrifice to Rak'laut) because their practices are disgusting to them and dishonorable which is something their whole society revolves around- honor and dishonor.

Today was a new chapter in Azari's life. He had just turned 18 which meant he could finally make the transition into priesthood. He had spent his whole life in Ishari's temple studying, learning, watching the life of his soon to be Brothers and Sisters. A smile touched the boy's lips as he walked towards the inner chamber where the ceremony would begin.

Once inside, his white robe was pulled away from his body and he was bathed in the magnolia scented water. His skin was rubbed with an oil of the same fragrance and for the first time, he was able to paint his eyes with the dark shadow to bring out his bright blue eyes before he was handed the pink robe. After tonight, he would be able to wear the read. He pulled the hood over his face and repeated the prayers he had memorized since he was little.

At last, he was permitted entrance into the outer chamber where his Brothers and Sisters were waiting for people to enter the temple and ask for some service or pay their patronage. Azari sat down on a cushion and watched the candles around the pillars flicker and cast dancing shadows.

He had to admit he was really rather nervous. He wouldn't be a boy anymore after today; he'd be a man in his full right. Now he just had to wait for the first person that would come to him an ask him for his services. He didn't want to fathom the idea that he might not be chosen today.

(sorry it is a little crappy >.< I wasn't quite sure where to begin.)

They ware warriors, they are predators, and so wait for the opportune moment to strike. The Banr'Kalat had been watching this kingdom to the west and judged them to be despicable, a worthy sacrifice in the name of Rak'laut and his sibling-gods Shiibak and Taekuldun. Yes, this place especially, they had been lying in wait, watching for the last five years when it had been time to scout out a new sacrificial target. Yes, they had sent scouts out in all directions, but she, Nak'aav, had been amongst the scouts sent here. They would cleanse this kingdom and repopulate it with those who worshiped the Gods-Who-Govern-The-World's-Existence. This place had been found the dirtiest in the eyes of their people, especially this place, this temple, she thought the name in disgust and her eyes narrowed in the hatred it kindled deep in her heart, of Ishari.

They did this every year, tainting more and more of their young people to become these, these harlots in the name of a god. How shameful. Dishonorable! And to regain the honor in the slightest, after generations upon generations of dishonor and defilement, the only way was an honorable death. The Banr'Kalat would give this kingdom to the west the highest honor they had- sacrifice to the gods. This temple in particular. The rest would simply be killed in battle, ritualistic enough for the gods watching, but these people would need more. They would make it a ceremony, to assure their spirits made it into the hands of the Three-Who-Are-Mighty. Their hearts would be torn from their chests and burned, their blood would be used to paint the assurances on their skin and their bones would be ground into dust and mixed with the ash of the hearts and water to create a holy paint for the warriors that would protect them from deathly maladies and crippling injuries that would kill them or keep them from an honorable death on the battle field.

Yes, Nak'aav thought to herself, her excitement rising and her desire to free these people from their sins growing, They will thank us when their souls meet the True-Gods in Vallhaer. They will be free and they will be honored. We must wait for this abhorrent ceremony to false gods to begin, that is the opportune moment, that is when they are weakest and most off-guard, that is when we will strike. Though even now, all the others are being killed in the streets and their houses silently. For we are the predators, the warriors of Rak'laut! We will prevail, it is the Will-Of-The-Gods. Now, we must only wait. Wait and be silent, then they will be honored...

Azari watched nervously and silently as some people filed into the temple and spoke to his Brothers and Sisters asking for advice in a relationship, how to court a woman, how to react to simple gestures or even what was the best way to propose a marriage. There were others of course that asked for private services and his brethren of the temple led their people away from the main room and into the sweetly scented shadowed rooms where other services were required of them. Doors and curtains were locked to allow privacy and there were the occasion or two where a student would be sitting in the shadows where they could watch what would be asked of them once they made the passage to Brotherhood.

With each passing moment, Azari's heart sank a little more, and then a little more.No one was coming to him. He had sat there for hours besides others in his position. Now, he was the only one left; the only one who hadn't been accepted yet. It was a lonely little seat. He shifted a little uncomfortably. His legs were starting to fall asleep. Was he allowed to move about and stretch his legs? He knew he couldn't ask. He wasn't allowed to speak until he was approached by someone who might be willing to accept his virgin night and the responsibilities that went with it. He was starting to lose hope that someone was interested in him at all.

At last, someone entered the temple gates and after looking around for a little while, let her gaze rest on Azari. Azari sat up a little straighter and hope once more fluttered in his chest as well as the nervousness that came with finally allowing someone to take his boyhood away. The woman smiled at him as she walked closer and offered her hand to help Azari. Azari did his best not to seem over eager as he took the woman's hand.

"Hello young brother," she cooed. "Maybe we can help each other with a little something."

"I will be more than happy to assist you in any way I can, my lady," he cooed to her. "Let us continue to the private chamber." He then started to lead her to his new room.

Nak'aav took a moment or two to continue her bored reflection on just how odd looking these people were. Their men and women looked so alike! How could they tell them apart? The length of the fur on their head? (Her people didn't have fur at all, but the animals they hunted and raised for food and clothing did.) It could easily be changed and then there would be no difference other than what should only be revealed between those mated. How odd. And finally, the last whelp left, leaving the inner courtyard completely empty and the only light came from the flickering torches. The moon had been covered by dark clouds.

Her smile was feral as she turned her excited gaze upon her brothers-in-arms (her sisters had all been placed in different groups amidst the town, she and her scout-team alone had gotten the honor to attack amongst the elite), it was time.

She motioned with her clawed hand, quick and nearly unseen if not for the Banr'Kalat's superior eyesight. She and the rest of the squad bowed their heads for only a moment in silent prayer to Rak'laut to ask his blessing. The moon shone once more and the entire squad grinned devilishly, their pointed teeth glistening in the moonlight, they had his favor.

The elite contained four men that were highly trained in these types of maneuvers, the stealth side of battle. They were often used as spies and assassins and though some looked down on such 'sneakery' they were very good at what they did. Nak'aav and her three scout fellows accompanied them, they had trained with the elites for about a month to make sure that they wouldn't give anything away, a high honor in Nak'aav's mind. It was her ambition, once she grew fully into adulthood, to become one of the elite.

Her body was smaller than most Banr'Kalat, her being a runt of her clutch though, somehow, she was the only one of her eight siblings to survive the sickness that Shiibak had sent to plague the kingdom's children as a punishment for their infidelities when she had only been 20 years into life. Though she was small she was beautifully colored, a dark green that camouflaged her easily beneath the large leaves and trees native to the Kingdom of Banr. Her eyes were black in their entirety, like every other of her race, and her frills that lined her neck were a ruby red and could be hidden if she had to- like now on a stealth mission. However, usually it was her pride and joy, frills tended to be amongst the females of her race, while males also had fringe it was rarely ever colored so brightly but they did have bright, eye-catching designs that ran around their torsos.

Their race could conceal the colors at will but when in the heat of battle almost always wore them proudly, especially since they usually seemed to work as intimidation. The elite and the scout squad descended from their perches in the shadows of the marble roof of the 'temple.' They had waited in the nooks and crannies that were created by the supporting pillars, they were many as the roof must have incredibly heavy.
-
Screams filled the night, not of pleasure but of fear and pain. The priests and priestesses were rounded up into a corner with much hustle and bustle (they all had to be tied up at the wrists and ankles separately- though other Banr'Kalat who were nearby joined in as soon as the first scream had been sounded).

They had entered each room and killed the patrons, who were rather easy to pick out, and if the patron and priest(ess) was indistinguishable they simply took the both of them to the center courtyard. Some tried to run and were hunted down like the vermin they were. Some screamed and wept, they were met with only smug grins and silent disapproval of such weak actions. Some, were slaughtered in the midst of their disgraceful acts and some prayed to the false goddess. All were taken prisoner or killed.

They, like the rest of the city (and soon, the rest of the kingdom) were conquered and very much aware of their presence now.

Azari stopped walking when they entered the dark room lit only by the scented candles on their rather decorative candle holders. He closed the door before turning to the woman. He tried to hide the fact that he was nervous and did his best to still his trembling hands as the woman pushed the hood away from his face. His light blond hair fell into his face and traced the dusting of freckles he had on his cheeks; colored by the flush of excitement. He accepted the woman's gentle kiss against his lips and reached up to wrap his arms around her. He may be a virgin, but he had learned his role well over the years. He was just starting to lead the woman to his bed when everything turned for the worst.

He heard the screams of pain from his brothers and sisters. He gasped and pulled away from his patron. Even the woman seemed startled by the noise. She opened the door and peeked out into the hallway. She screamed and slammed the door and scrambled to lock it. There were no locks on the door. She tried to push his dresser against the door to block whatever was coming. Azari looked around a little more than baffled.What could have caused those screams of pain, his patron's panic? He scrambled around then and tried to help the woman. Whatever was out there, he couldn't fight it. He didn't know how to fight.

The window shattered and some..thing came into the room. The woman screamed and was quickly killed. Azari gave a yelp of fright and backed away until he fell against the wall. His stomach turned. He was afraid he was going to be sick. The blood was everywhere! He turned his attention to the creature in his room and tried to scramble away from it but the man was quick to grab him and force him down. His hands were quickly tied behind his back painfully and his legs tried to break the restraints that were now placed on them. He struggled beneath the man but he wasn't strong enough to get away. He was hauled up and over the creature's shoulder then. Azari was helplessly brought down into the temple common room where he watched his brothers and sisters curl up and cry.

He was set down none too gently and he winced a little. He looked up at his captures and sighed. What was going on here? Why were these people doing this? The people of Ishari's temple were a simple, peaceful people. They didn't know how to fight. How was this honorable? Attacking women and children were unarmed and unprotected by any sword or shield? They weren't even being treated like humans! He felt like a sheep that was getting herded together by hounds nipping at his heels. He glared at the men and women that were walking around them, making sure the bonds were secure.

"You people are horrible!" he hissed. "At least let the women and children go," he pleaded. "They have done no wrong. There is no honor in attacking people with no means of defense." He couldn't help but speak out. He had is own moral codes ingrained him by his father, a true warrior.