Salwah sighed, "How many times do we have to have this conversation Cait?"
"As many times as needed in order for to understand what this temple needs. A Grand Cleric should follow the Temple Matron," Cait said equally exasperated.
"The Temple Matron should heed the Grand Cleric."
"Yes, but not shackled to them as you are to tradition."
"Cait, this tradition that you deride is a fundamental part of our culture, our religion."
"You know as well as I do that that tradition was merely a result of the circumstances of Jassira, not by any conscious policy or thought. It wasn't even a tradition until the contrast was noticed. Salwah, we are in the Frostmarches now. We need to adapt to our new circumstances."
"Precisely my point. Because of our traditions we are apart from the locals. Our appeal is in our mystery and our exoticism. As it is here, as it was in Jassira."
Shaking her head in disbelief, Cait countered. "Our appeal, our greatness, is not to be different to those outside, but to be the ideal to aspire to. We once represented the ideal in Jassira now we should represent the ideal of the Frostmarch"
"Even if that ideal goes against the form of our god!" Salwah accused, pointing her finger against Cait.
"Mallach understands that even forms outside of his own need to be explored. Variety is foundational."
"Cait for the last time, the priestesses and I are not going to Thiccen up."
Cait in a fume started to leave the temple. "You'll see how glorious it is to gigantic, milky boobs, and a full cake to match."
Salwah shouted back to the vanishing figure, "I'd much prefer to see my toes!"
"Highly over rated, I assure you!"
"As many times as needed in order for to understand what this temple needs. A Grand Cleric should follow the Temple Matron," Cait said equally exasperated.
"The Temple Matron should heed the Grand Cleric."
"Yes, but not shackled to them as you are to tradition."
"Cait, this tradition that you deride is a fundamental part of our culture, our religion."
"You know as well as I do that that tradition was merely a result of the circumstances of Jassira, not by any conscious policy or thought. It wasn't even a tradition until the contrast was noticed. Salwah, we are in the Frostmarches now. We need to adapt to our new circumstances."
"Precisely my point. Because of our traditions we are apart from the locals. Our appeal is in our mystery and our exoticism. As it is here, as it was in Jassira."
Shaking her head in disbelief, Cait countered. "Our appeal, our greatness, is not to be different to those outside, but to be the ideal to aspire to. We once represented the ideal in Jassira now we should represent the ideal of the Frostmarch"
"Even if that ideal goes against the form of our god!" Salwah accused, pointing her finger against Cait.
"Mallach understands that even forms outside of his own need to be explored. Variety is foundational."
"Cait for the last time, the priestesses and I are not going to Thiccen up."
Cait in a fume started to leave the temple. "You'll see how glorious it is to gigantic, milky boobs, and a full cake to match."
Salwah shouted back to the vanishing figure, "I'd much prefer to see my toes!"
"Highly over rated, I assure you!"
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