Furlavus (Furl-av-us)
Summary
Nestled in the eastern side of Fleursowurm awaits Furlavus, an enormous temple built by the Volapaws Black Iron order. An ignoble order, the Black Iron lacked for sophisticated equipment, technical skill, or many of the luxuries richer or better supported orders had. They did, however, open their doors to everyone and anyone who could carry one of their crude swords and take a hit. They promised nothing beyond what they gave, but nonetheless shouldered their tasks with grim resolve. The Black Iron order built up their humble temple over the decades. What began as a simple, once-abandoned fortress grew into a monstrosity of stone and iron. No centralized design dictated anything they did, and one could pick out which mason worked where based on how it all ended up. When a veltronquake collapsed the ramshackle fortress decades later, the Black Iron found themselves in a troublesome situation. As their (mis)fortunes would have, the Fleursowurm construction project had just been declared to the public. While all sorts of other orders bid for land in the future capital city, the Black Iron won out the most of them all. Their rough charm and capable history despite the odds, as well as embracing anyone who had the muster, proved appealing to the Federation. They would serve well in showcasing the meritocratic acceptance of the Federation and its ways. That and the Black Iron order's former home was quite close the construction site. They were setting down the first bricks long before any other order showed up. Being the first to arrive conferred quite the bounty of resources, in both material and people power. The head of the Black Iron order at the time, Aleya Brokenblade, wasn't a fool in taking opportunities. Recognizing the earlier faults that'd done their temple in, she committed a firm hand toward keeping her masons in line. They would get one shot at making something truly grand, worthy of not only their order, but for everything all of them had sacrificed. For a lot well-known for their disorderly conduct and rabblerousing, it proved a sobering command indeed. The Black Iron order went to work, a purpose of mind and dedication to every detail most couldn't believe they mustered. While the beginnings were rough enough, the Federation builders and Black Iron masons found an accord of sorts. So it is their new temple arose, a truly massive complex front-to-back. For Volapaws does not consider places of worship meaningful without work to do in service of that worship. Smiths, most of all, set up huge wings of refineries and forges. Armorers and blade workers built atop of them, and beside those awaited mages and magical laboratories. Around them, a steel skeleton and a brickwork shell wrapped them in meters-thick protection. The Black Iron, although forced to use veltron magic in the construction due to regulations, refused any 'finishing' touches. Brickwork was the hallmark of the poor and destitute, those who couldn't afford mages or even had any. Masons were those who set them down and did the finishing touches by hand. They, who upheld their roots, wore such a blemish of decor as a mark of pride. As Fleursowurm grew, so did Furlavus. A great sloping tower rose from the grand hall, climbing high above every other building nearby. Its gray granite shell sat wrapped in a ribcage of steel, hardened for invaders as much as the weather. A half-moon shape sculpted the complex around it, five distinct wings married together. Seven stories tall and ten stories deep, it housed not only the whole Black Iron order, but others who joined them. Unrefined in its appearance, it stood against the haughty and 'higher' notions of artistry its neighbors employed. Upon its opening ceremonies, the Black Iron smiths fired up the great forges within Furlavus. Smoke stacks spat black plumes as cinders and fiery heat roared to life. Clever usage of heat pipes and ventiliation ensured that even in the coldest winters, the whole temple would stay swelteringly hot. Five hundred smiths and priestesses, working in tandem, went through the hammer-rites of ringing Furlavus' only and single greatest bell. Situated in the tower, they had to work a series of furnace stations that fed to a powder-filled blast box. In a thunderous explosion, a hammer-slug rocketed up the tower, slamming the purpose-made bell in a mighty and deep sound. From then forth, Furlavus welcomed all to its halls.Purpose / Function
Originally a location chiefly for the Black Iron order and their ways, Furlavus grew into something much more than them. Other temples were built in Fleursowurm, but they catered to more selective interests. They sought people with merit, noble blood, or some measure that separated them from 'ordinary people'. The Black Iron did not care, so long as one had the strength they'd need to do any real work. Such earnest and straight forward, if rather rough around the edges, messages attracted quite a lot of people.
Thus did the Black Iron order impress the many more common peoples. From them went those who learned Volapaws as the Black Iron did. Whether they joined the order properly or not, those favorable to the Black Iron order soon spread throughout the Federation's capital. Most prominently of all were those in the military, for the order and them got along enviably well. As the generations passed, Furlavus' prestige and prominence only rose higher.
Politics and subsuming smaller orders eventually changed some of the Black Iron's sensibilities. They saw themselves more as the proper order of Fleursowurm, daughters of the true ideals of Volapaws. To uphold their lofty claim, they set about creating places of learning and healing, as well as smithing and training. Furlavus grew as the eminent, open-to-the-public domain of such things, attracting all sorts. If all else failed, one could test their mettle upon its vaunted halls, and their true worth would be found.
Effort, persistence, and time did the rest. Furlavus became the bedrock of educational standards and common health. Whether to improve upon or prove themselves superior, the other institutions took note. Some may rightly stake a higher claim on some loftier idea or difficult-to-reach peak. Many, though, would be hard pressed to surmount the iron-proven determination that the Black Iron order builds in everyone.
Architecture
The outer ring of Furlavus is something of a market place. All sorts of smiths set up their stalls upon the large walkway around the temple complex. There they demonstrate their skills, repair equipment brought to them, and sell any metalwork goods people might need. Built practically for practical needs, nothing particularly flashy goes through their hands, but everyone needs them. Although, those in need of blessed or holy pieces of equipment can find it from the hands of ordained priestesses and their wares. Rather than armaments, most of goods here end up being things like nails, cups, mugs, bracings, fixtures, and other necessary parts.
Toward the temple itself awaits the brick-and-steel, ever resolute and unyielding. Jagged, uneven, and marred by time and masonry, it shows undaunted age. Hammer-capped pillars line its perimeter, each adorned by the tools of a departed smith-priestess. The main entrance is a walkway that splits off to two curving staircases, which meet at an upper floor balcony area. During times of public declarations or otherwise, the masses stand on the walkway, while the priestesses above on the platform. Beyond that, the immense double-doors of Furlavus proper await.
The Black Iron order spared no expense in the temple's grand hall. Three floors of walkways and paths line the walls, but the heart of it is an immense, almost chasm-like openness. Its exact purpose varies, for it can be anything from a military arming post to a congregation gathering hall. Great enough to hold hundreds, if not some thousands, of people, it is a place where the greatest of ceremonies are held. Some permanent fixtures do exist, like protected cases showing off prized weapons or notable bounties. Others show replica pieces of Black Iron sacred items, being educational and awe inspiring alike.
At the center piece of the grand hall, where its 'back' would be from the entrance, awaits the Great Furnace. It is an enormous fuel combustion chamber, drinking from dozens of inlets to power Furlavus with its imposing heat. It is also where scores of priestesses come together. Whether in the grand hall or the dozens of spindly feeder lines, their magic chanting and hammering fills the air. They enact the rites that will launch the hammer into the tower bell far above, creating the grandest declarations of all. The rippling, cannon-like series of explosions from the launch are more than enough to thunder the soul itself.
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