Fenghuang Temple
An ebon horse picked its way along a narrow path worn into the hills, as it had done for a day and a half. Tall and proud, the creature's eyes glinted with intelligence and dark fire, and its ivory tack had worn smooth with seeming centuries of use. Mangy gravehounds nipped at the horse's fetlocks, barking out the dying thoughts of the last brain their tounges had tasted, until a glance from the horse's rider sent them running in terror. That rider, the Prince Resplendent in the Ruin of Ages, looked scornfully at the hounds as they ran; they never should have come so close, but his fellow deathknight, the Abbot of Hunger and Dust, had insisted this visit occur without the pomp and circumstance of a full panoply of servants. So gone were the hardened killers, the nemissaries, the jade effigies and the steel-reinforced corpses. There was only the Prince himself and his mount, Dance of Ruin, and the road to Fenghuang Temple.
Minutes later, Dance of Ruin topped the last rise and the temple stood revealed. It was a beautiful sight, had the Prince Resplendent eyes for beauty. The main hall, capped with jade tiling and carvings of twin birds, stood with doors open to receive visitors. Flanking it on either side were twin corridors, each leading to a hall for one of the Abbot's two sangha. A fiery red lacquer coated the outside walls and supporting pillars, and covering the whole outside were small reliefs of celestial lions and the fire spirits of Heaven. A natural sulphur-spring bubbled up from the earth in front of the temple, feeding the plants, and the foul smell was the one thing in range of his senses the Prince Resplendent could tolerate; why the Abbot had not long ago turned the whole Manse into a charnel house was entirely beyond him.
The Prince Resplendent prodded his horse forward with his spurs; best to see what the Abbot wanted and quit this hallowed place as quick as he could.
