1136 >Suki: Enter temple

Cold, dank, decrepit, all adjectives that do not describe the temple.  Instead of the cavernous abyss that you had expected, or the dried, sandy labyrinth expected from something Fraserian, you get something akin to the warmth and communal nightmare of Shinto and Buddhist temples that share the same distinction as this buildinganoid.  

You smell the sweet smell of fresh bread and wine.  Walls are adorned with etchings of, something.  And you feel a sense of familiarity and homeyness that you didn't expect before going into the temple.  Your mother never took you into the temple.  She always left you on the main island or somewhere else during her expeditions into the croak.  You always thought it was kinda lame that you never went in, but you didn't want to seem lame by complaining about something so Juvenile.

>Suki: observe etchings in detail