The sight of the trapped hero-god renders Cyanea nearly speechless for several moments. Whatever she had expected, this wasn't it. Soon, though, she recovers herself and kneels down beside Ambrus in respect. "As my companion says. Any information you may have about this minotaur or a way to navigate the maze would be a great help."
Diplomacy if needed: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (14) + 11 = 25
|GM Nikolaus 'the Grimm'|
Theseus gives a creaking laugh, a kind of dry sussuration that sounds more like a dying man than a true expression of mirth.
"The Minotaur. Of course. It is no minotaur you seek mortals, he is the First Minotaur, child of the titans and foul magic. Born to slay heroes. He was my greatest prize and I created this maze to hold him, all the other monsters were simply extras. But... well... mortals age, and we die. Even those like myself, blessed the power of the gods. We are" He coughs harshly, "We are imperfect vessels. And the First is strong, eternally strong. He broke free, mapped my maze and attacked me - here, in my home."
His impaled arms move feebly as he points. "These are his, holding me here until I finally die. The First holds my spear now, and with it my labyrinth. You are fortunate that you found my soldiers. What little of my strength remains in them, else you could not have come here." He bares his teeth in a rictus grin. "If you want my spear then you are welcome to it - if you can take it. I will help you, where I can."