"What do you want ME to do? I've volunteered to fix this weapon, and restoke the Mithral Forges. What would you have me do"?
Mateo listened quietly to the others, observing the events that were now happening. It seemed that the centaur's crisis of faith was only going to be growing worse as more of the gods seemed to have no idea who the deity he served was. The god before them was a master craftsman but he was not expected to know all the answers. It was humbling and inspiring in a way to meet three of the five gods; their personalities were so very humanoid with flaws that only seemed strengthened by their divine might.
"What can you tell us of the Mithral Forges, Volkan? I expect that it is no easy matter to simply walk in and retrieve what is needed, correct? How long would it take on foot to reach there as well?" If they could secure the Mithral Forge, it'd surely be a boon in their corner. Depending on the speed of Volkan's ability and the chosen that would assist him, they could have weapons of a mighty nature in time for the sacrifice.
"As much as it pains me to say, negotiation does seem like the best avenue with the Cult of Sydon. I would want to see what they would be willing to trade in return for the princess's life. I'd also like to see where they would be sacrificing her and to what; perhaps we could ask around and learn their preferred form of execution."
Volkan is right. They seek his help, but he seems handtied. Other than, of course, offer important information about the Forge's location and helping the group with time calculation. "Bravo, Mateo!"
Meanwhile, Aristeides head keeps circling around the idea of the sacrifice, trying to find any legal breach.
Lysander considers the weapon for a moment, then turns to his aunt. "Time is something we should consider. Theia, how long to we have to save my sister? Mateo is right, negotiation should be our first recourse. But as a fellowship, we have not earned a reputation for diplomacy. If the followers of Sydon expect to sacrifice my sister to some great monster, better armaments might be a wise preparation. Would you agree, Pappaous?"
Lysander turns an eager eye to his grandfather and the ancient and disused hammer held so casually in his hand.
@Mateo>>: "Well legend has it that Lutheria made a pact with the Fates, and they summoned a great three headed dog from the depths of hell that ran off the Dwarves that mined the Mithral and Adamantine there, and kept them at bay. The Dragonlords tried several times to take back the forge, but finally abandoned it as their attentions were drawn elsewhere. I'm sure that beast has finally expired. It's been almost 500 years, but as far as I know nobody has tried to enter those ancient halls since the pact was signed".
The old smith then pushes aside some junk on a table and reveals a stained map of the area. He points a stubby finger at the North Gate of Estoria, and drags it along the river to a spot marked with a Dwarven ruin. I would think that if you left at dawn and followed the old road along the river Arkelon and diverted here along this abandoned trail you should be able to arrive at the location by dusk. It's not far, but the trail is no longer in use.
@Lysander>>: "Well you do have some time. It's almost four weeks until the sacrifice is to be made, so you have time to gather your resources. I've found it's better to negotiate from a position of strength, and the more resources you have the greater your strength. My granddaughter does not deserve this fate, and I would be eternally gratefully if you could find some way to ensure she is not sacrificed. I don't know how my drunken son would react if she isn't somehow rescued".
Kyria joins the conversation interjecting the preferred sacrifice method of the Cult.
"Usually the sacrifice is chained to the Rock of Sacrifice in the middle of the River. The beasts of the river then take over from there. Not a bad move I must say. The cult only staked out the sacrifice, the river beasts do the deed, so the Titans are even further removed from direct involvement. But grandfather Volkan is right. There is still time to accomplish much before the scheduled time, and who knows what allies and help you might find before then if you extend your reach. Perhaps even in Estoria there are ways to procure additional aid".
The half-elf eagerly follows the dwarven god to the table covered in a variety of projects that laid halfway through completion. His eyes linger upon the map, following the well-worn finger along its path. The forge was not that far away from them, it was a task that they could complete and gain a little more of an advantage.
"A walk for certain but we have the time for it. Thank you Volkan." The god was right; it was better to negotiate from a position of power. Armed with the weapons of the Dragonlords, there would be greater legitimacy of their claim of being Thylea's heroes.
"Well, Lysander has already said he wouldn't let her die and what friend would I be to make a liar of him." Mateo says with a smirk, stretching for a moment. "We should wait then on the negotiation, at least for now. Maybe get a survey of the city, see how it is. I'm imagining our arrival will not have gone unnoticed and perhaps, our allies will come for us. I'll find us a place to stay for the evening. Any objections?"
Unless he was stopped or someone said something, Mateo would make his way out after thanking both Kyrah and Volkan again for their aid. The day still had some life in it and there was work to be done.
Lysander nods his silent thanks to his friend for backing his decisions.
It had been a long time since the centurions served together, and Lysander had no interest in falling into their old rank structure. He vastly preferred the camaraderie Mateo and he shared today and in the years before Lysander's promotion.
"Pappauos, I have a request. Should we survive this ordeal, and save my sister, I would like to return here. I no longer serve with the centurions of Mytros. I've resigned my commission. And I do not believe I have a place at my father's court, as it is. But the chance to learn of our family here, at your side...to learn with hard work and kin. It is all a man that has lost his family could ask."
Studiously, Lysander does not look at his fellow chosen of the gods. He does not look to his aunt. His eyes are only for the dwarf. He knows, that even for his friends, he's putting a time limit on their fellowship. But Lysander never wanted to be a hero. He never wished to benefit from the godsblood in his veins. He only does so because he must. And if not him, who?
Finally, away from these gods. "Mateo, I'll join you." The centaur follows at a walk.
He was so disappointed in the gods who he had met. No wonder Sydon defeats them.
What divine creature heard his prayers and granted him powers? Chiron, a god of war. Whoever that might be.
But he was happy to have met Mateo and Lysander. You define yourself by your friends and enemies. So far he was doing well.
He could not see a path to redeem his family and reclaim his birthright, yet. But, so much was unclear right in front him that the uncertainty did not concern him.
Aris pats Lysander on the shoulder, showing his support without words. He's not in s position to be verbose right now, with his mind working on finding what's wrong with the situation. He knows something doesn't fit, and one of the questions that he's asking himself is suddenly pronounced aloud by pure mistake.
"Who might this daughter of Pythor worship? If she worships the Gods and not the Titans, then asking for a sacrifice in name of Sydon is the closest they can get to a homicide..."
When he realises he was talking aloud, he turns his head left and right. "Eh, sorry, I was just drifting..."
@Mateo>>: Kyrah perks up at Mateo's suggestion to find an Inn for the night. "I know just the place! The Dragons Tooth... I'll probably even perform there tonight". She then eagerly skips ahead stopping to wait for the dawdlers.
@Coronus>>: The concern is evident on the face of Coronus. His longtime beliefs are in conflict with his inability to verify his gods place in the Pantheon. He keeps his head down, is silent, and occasionally kicks some trash out of his path, as he follows Kyrah and Mateo to wherever they're going.
@Lysander>>: Just as the others step outside Lysander asks the request from his Grandfather. For just a moment an intense sadness shows on the old Dwarfs face. "Life seldom gives us the opportunity to pursue happiness. I fear that your path lies elsewhere... but if I could make it so I would. Perhaps after this is all over... He then claps the big man forcefully on the shoulder. "Reclaim that Forge would you? I long to hammer the ores of that place again".
@Aristiedes>>: Aristiedes hesitates at the door for just a moment, and hurries after the others when he sees that Lysander is having a word with his Grandfather. "I think we're headed to a place called The Dragon's Toot. Meet us there". He then hurries after the group, and catches up in time for his musing to be overheard by Kyrah. "Weird. I never thought about that. She is a demi-god, so I would guess she pays even homage to the five. She's always shown me great respect, but I would guess she favors whichever gods influence her situation. I know I don't worship any god, but I respect the five, and even the Titans to a certain extent. And I can see how you would consider it murder, but the pact allows for sacrifices to still be called for. You yourself sacrificed the boar in my name. Should someone be exempted due to who they were sired by"? She then gets strangely silent for almost a full minute obviously taking time to consider your words. Finally she looks at you with a million goldpiece smile. "You ask too many questions".
She then skips on ahead till she arrives at a largely non-descript building except for the activiy milling around the place.
"Here we are"! And she dashes in the door.
A nondescript brick building with carved white stone accents, the popular public house distinguishes itself by the sheer amount of activity in and around it. Patrons regularly drift in and out in varying states of sobriety. The scent of food and sounds of raucous conversation emanate from the open door and windows.
As you enter behind Kyrah you see her embracing a wiry old white haired man who smiles, even if he seems uncomfortable with the hug. She is beaming as she assaults him with her exuberant talk. "Hi old man. Guess what? I've brought the heros of prophecy to stay at your inn. Aren't you thankful"?
Stepping through the door, you see that the busy street outside the tavern barely hinted at the sheer number of patrons crammed inside. Locals and travelers from across Thylea crowd around the bar and an assortment of wooden tables, sharing the latest gossip.
Mateo nodded as the centaur came and joined him walking outside, the skies above clear without a cloud to be seen. Staring upwards, he studies the endless sight for a second before looking back over at the troubled centaur. The man was dealing with a troubled faith, worshiping a god that no one had seemed to recognize. Add in the personal plights of the divine and he could almost imagine the disappointment.
"It is strange, isn't it, to be involved with the affairs of the divine?" Mateo asks the holy man, arching an eyebrow as he leans against the nearby pillar while Kyrah seems to eagerly skip ahead filled with a brand new exuberance. "We are told the stories of their greatness, their power, everything, and yet...they are simply still people like you and I. Makes me a bit more hopeful, honestly." The rest seemed to catch up soon afterwards though, ending their moment together. "We'll figure it all out Coronus, one way or another." Pushing off of the column, he followed along with Aristeides and pondered over the scholar's wise words.
"As much as I would prefer word over action, I don't think we'll be able to manipulate the wordings enough to compel the Order into our demands. I am certain they realize how fine of a line they're walking already. We will need to think of other ways to outwit them, subvert their confidence and claim the victory." He grinned though, clasping the mage by the shoulder. "Inquisitive minds like yours are good though. You would've made a fine Odyssean, my friend."
The raucous nature surrounding this place had Mateo on edge for a moment but he should've known better; this was a natural place for Kyrah to gravitate towards. The smell of delicious food, loud voice, music, and laughter permeated throughout. Making his way through the crowds, he'd make sure to bump enough elbows so that Coronus could pass through with a little more ease.
"At least we'll have plenty of people to hear rumors from..." Mateo murmured to himself, looking around the place. It seemed she knew the owner and the number of people here rivaled the barracks when the new recruits arrived back in Mystros. Turning towards the old man, he would offer his hand to him. "Greetings, I am Mateo Nikas. Do you have room for the four of us to rest? We may need to be here in Estonia for some time."
The heavy head that burdens Lysander's shoulders grows darker and heavier until they reach the Dragon's Toot. The obvious mirth within changes the centurion's mood immediately. A smile worms it's way about Lysander's face as he makes his way through the crowd, pulling out coin to hand to the first member of the staff he can notice.
"Mead!" he bellows to the young lad clearing off a nearby table. "And lot's of it!" The smile quickly lets loose a relieved bellow of laughter and the centurion winds his way towards a table large enough to handle the party, gesturing for his aunt and friends to join him.
Aristeides knows his word strategics won't go anywhere, but that's what they taught him at the Academy: how to think. He can't help doing it, and it serves as a training as well, so...
But even so, he knows. Things are going to get nasty, and soon. They should go to the Forge and deal with Pythor's hammer, then go far way to find other artifacts, save the princess, kill the dragon... Will they be able to achieve all these feats? Not long ago, a simple door out them all in jeopardize...
Shaking his head, Aris enters the tavern and talked a long look at the place, trying to discern the crowd's reaction when Kyrah announces them.
"Thanks for your words, Mateo. I would have not imagined the behavior of these gods before meeting them. With their power, I would have imagined them awe-inspiring." The centaur replies.
"What concerns me are two-fold: personally, if these gods don't know who is Chiron, then perhaps Sydon is answering my prayers. Obviously, that leaves me deeply conflicted."
"And second, Sydon appears much more organized with his Order of Sydon and directed champions like the hag. It is no wonder to me that Sydon could dominate these gods without the departed dragonlords. If we hope to oppose Sydon without the dragonlords, we need to address this organizational strength. Because, we won't be able to match the power of dragons."
Coronus steps carefully through the crowd to reach the Heroes' tables. He starts to drink slowly. His face clearly shows deep thought and concern.
Word spreads quickly around the tavern as to who has graced the door with their presence. Only the table of gruff dwarven workers you had encountered on the street earlier seem to pay the arrival no mind.
@Mateo>> "Why certainly. We always have rooms for the heroes of legend returned. And your coin is no good here". He pulls aside a robust middle age woman and speaks to her. "Myrtle. Get the two rooms on the third floor emptied and prepared for our honored guests". He then looks back at the group and Kyrah, and seems to look apologetic. "I hope you don't mind sharing the two rooms. We're pretty full up".
Mateo Rumor overheard
A band of warriors traveled to the Necropolis last month and haven’t been heard from since. Everyone knows that the place is forbidden.
@Lysander.. You hadn't really noticed at first taking in the crowd, but it seems that a couple of young...energetic... barmaids have not been able to take their eyes off you since you entered. At your demand for mead, they scratch and claw to give you and your group service, finally arriving simultaneously and giving you their most dazzling smile. "Her you go sire. I'm Amara". says the voluptuous brunette, "And I'm Zoey". says the tall, dark, athletic honey blond girl by her side, as they place identical pictures of cold frosty mead, with pewter mugs at the table.
The anger and frustration you feel towards your father dims just a fraction as you realize how much easier it would be to hide your problems at the bottom of a mug of ale.
Lysander Rumor
Everyone agrees that Princess Anora would make a much better ruler than her father, King Pythor. Everyone loves Pythor, but he's a terrible king.
@Aristeides>>: You scan the crowd as the louder warriors make their presence known, and can see recognition as well as...well admiration descend over the gathering like an ocean wave. You are all loved here... and perhaps there is a stirring of hope. As you head towards the table there are pats on your arm and shoulder, and smiles of welcome.
Aristeides Rumor
King Acastus of Mytros has fulfilled his promise to revive the Dragonlords of old. Several farmers claim to have spotted his dragons flying overhead.
@Coronus>>: At first your presence invokes a bit of fear, followed by wonder, followed by acceptance. If you're willing to put your life on the line to protect these simple folks way of life they're willing to reserve judgement. You get the sense that they really don't care what god you represent as long as your bring more hope to their lives. After a bit the few children in the crowd sidle closer to you reaching out to shyly touch your fur, or simply stare as innocent children are want to do.
Coronus Rumor
A massive hurricane is brewing off the coast of Mytros. It could be weeks before it’s safe to travel to the city. The roads nearby are closed
You all overhear the table of gruff old dwarves speaking among themselves but very indiscreetly making sure they're loud enough for you all to make out what they say. The older ones mention that life was much better when they could work the Mithral mines, but now they're too old. If they were a few years younger they'd travel there themselves, and bring back the skulls of the vanquished ancestors for a proper burial. You hear another mention that the Dwarven Miners guild would probably pay 10-gold for the return of each skull.
"Your generosity is too kind, good sir. I am no hero yet, just a concern Thylean like yourself." There were some fringe benefits with being the heroes of legend it seemed and he was not one to deny that the kindness of the man was most appealing. It was a change from the usual treatment he had suffered back within Mystros; the fear and loathing of one so clearly doomed to suffer at Fate's whim. Here though, he was not seen as a harbinger of death but one of hope. It was nice. He gave his warmest smile to Myrtle, who he was certain would do her very best to please them. At the innkeeper's apology, he shook his head. "That is entirely unneeded, friend, no need to worry. Lysander and I have shared a room many of times. For now, let us sit and be merry!"
Passing through the crowd, his ears twitch at the discussion between two men. It seemed as if they were guards that were officially off-duty; not the king's troops but guards of some other design. They mentioned a necropolis, how it was forbidden, and how warriors had disappeared after going into it. Such an ancient burial site could hold untold treasures and terrible dangers, the kind of threats that a group of enterprising heroes could benefit from defeating. He filed it away in his head as they found a table to sit at, one recently cleared by a group who seemed all too happy to offer their seats to the heroes of legend.
Sitting down at the table, he would watch as Lysander naturally did as the demigod did. The dangerous duo had eyes only for the son of the king and it brought a light chuckle to the elf. It seemed that his friend was still the great distraction he had always been. Leaning in, he cleared his throat.
"Pleasure to meet you..uhh...Amara and Zoey was it? Could you get us some meat, cheese, and bread? If such divine creatures like yourself linger here, I can only imagine how simple -delicious- the food must be." As he makes the order for the group, he grabs hold of a pitcher and pours each of them a full mug. Kyrah was included as well, as he gave a nod and a wink to the mischievous goddess. Once they had a moment, he would lean back in his seat and admire the scene. Maybe being a hero wasn't going to be all bad after all.
"So, my friends, we have a battle plan. We know of a certain forge that needs to be retaken, even a mine that may need to be restored." He says, giving a sly smile and sideeye to the gruff and proud dwarves sitting nearby. "I also heard just a moment ago that there is some sort of necropolis close by. It seems a group of warriors had gone to it and have not returned at all." His attention turns to Kyrah as he takes a deep sip of the mead, letting out a sigh of satisfaction at the drink's fine taste. "Kyrah, what do you know of this necropolis? Why would warriors go to such a place? Is it a threat to the city?"
"I agree that we mustn't hesitate going to the forge" Aristeides expones. "Coming with the restored weapon of a God would strike both our and their morale." He takes a sip of mead. "Now, this necropolis could be interesting. I've heard myself of the return of the Dragonlords in Mytros. If that is true, it might have a big impact in the game as well - and I'm personally interested." Giving some time to assimilate for the others, he then finishes. "But, since we're right here, right now, I'd say it would be the wisest to solve whatever is within our reach, then move elsewhere and keep on working on it."
Coronus nods to the barmaids and takes his drink casually toasting Kyrah and the fellowship before drinking.
He smiles at the children. He nods toward a lantern illuminating their area of the cramped tavern. Using Thaumaturgy to entertain them, he causes the lantern's flame to flicker, brighten, dim, and change colors from yellow to orange to red to violet to indigo to blue to green and back to yellow again.
Turning back toward the fellowship, the centaur adds his two coppers, "Did you hear about the massive hurricane brewing off the coast of Mytros? It could be weeks before it’s safe to travel to the city. The roads nearby are closed. So, the dragonlords will have to wait, I suppose."
"Should we ask those dwarves to accompany us to the Forge? After we clear the threat, they can move in and join our Order of the Gods." He says with a wink at Mateo.
"Seriously, if we don't have any dragons or dragonlords, the gods are going to need an Order of the Gods, or whatever we call it, to face Sydon and his Order. We cannot do this all on our own."
Mateo listened carefully to his comrades as they reported in what they overheard, his hands clasped in front of his face to hide his smile.
"They're naturally curious for advantages. This will make my task far easier, I feel." An odyssean's function was to observe, analyze, and then exploit. Each of them had their own unique perspectives that they brought to the table, strengths that the group could apply as a whole. Nodding in agreement with Coronus, he spoke softly. "Agreed. It seems Mystros would need to be approached by land. Such a trip is outside of our time table though. The necropolis and its missing soldiers as well as the forge seem to be our main focus." Taking a bite of his food and swallowing it down with a mouthful of mead, the warrior continued. "I suggest we go after the forge first. The sooner we are better armed, the better." Matteo looked over at the old dwarves, his smile growing just a bit wider as he sat up from his seat and winked back at Coronus. "Well, let me have a chat with them. See if they can offer this new-fround order some advice on our tasks. Kyrah, I'd love those answers about the necropolis later. Enjoy the food for now." Lysander may have enjoyed watching this display of leadership from his companion; the half-elf was far more sullen and full of gallow-humor the last time they had served together. It was as if the end of the world had cheered him up. Settling over by the old dwarves with a mug in hand, he would look at each of them before lifting his mug in a toast.
"A toast to Volkan, may his hammers forever ring, his forge be fired, and his strength be true!" Drinking back his drink, he would do his best to keep up with the dwarves but invariably fall short, spilling a little mead before laughing and placing down his nearly finished mug. "Forgive me, my belly is not made of iron like your kind. May I steal a moment of your time?" The elf settled into his seat, leaning in closer to them. "My friend could not help but overhear you speak of the Mithral Mines. We aim to reclaim the forge and stoke it back to life! I am a visitor to your fair city, are these places one and the same or close by one another?"
@Mateo>>: Mateo speaks to the two barmaids asking for food to go along with their drink. Both startle as he speaks obviously forgetting everyone else in the room sans their idol. They quickly recover, and though they make sure to keep making eye contact with Lysander, they are able to recover well enough to serve what is asked for.
Kyrah turns at the mention of the Necropolis. "I wondered when you'd get around to asking more about the prophecy. The prophecy does say to 'claim the weapons of the Dragonlords, not forge new ones, and the necropolis is where you might do so if your will is strong, and your need great". She then takes a big gulp of her ale, and pinches the butt of a young man walking by, then looking at Aristeides as though he had performed the act. "Sorry about my friend here. He's been on the road a long time". She then gives Aristeides a big smile.
"Here is what I know - The weapons of the first Dragonlords were forged at the Mithral Forge by the god Volkan, and all were capable of wounding the Titans and those descended from them. These are located in Telamok, a necropolis in the Mithral Mountains. The tombs were built to house the remains of the Dragonlords who came to Thylea five centuries ago. No one ever goes there now, as it’s guarded by an undead gatekeeper known as Damon, who must be paid with a special kind of coin before hewill allow anyone entrance".
@Aristeides>>: Kyrah nods at Aristeides statement about taking care of matters at hand. "Wisely spoken mage". She then proceeds to embarrass the young mage with an discreet pinch of a passing man. You strangely feel some comfort at the thought of the Dragonlords fighting by your side, but something still seems to be missing from the situation.
@Coronus>>: The Children laugh and point at your tricks, some even getting closer and touching you, and one little girl quits sucking her thumb long enough to give your big hindquarters a hug. Finally some of the parents come and retrieve the children with a smile, claiming that the heroes need their rest, and to plan saving the world.
When the thought of getting the Dwarves to help enters your mind you quickly dismiss it. They are all past the adventuring age, and many walk with a limp or are missing digits and even limbs. I's obvious they're already fought their battles. They would surely accompany you if asked, but few would survive.
Kyrah turns to you at your mention of 'An order of the Gods' "Why haven't you put it together yet. The Dragonlords were the Order of the Gods. Maybe that's the fire that must be rekindled".
@Lysander>>: The Burly demi-god seems content to enjoy the ale, and the attention of the two barmaids, and seems not too involved in the discussion of their fate.
Mateo excuses himself for the table for a moment, and walks to the Dwarven table. They look at him a bit cautiously as he approaches, but then the familiar toast seems to put them more at ease.
The most senior of the Dwarven group, who wears a patch over one eye, and the other seems to be turning milky turns to answer your query.
"Name's Carrtir. Most of us worked the mines, or assisted Volkan in the forge back before the pact. We're too old to do any fighting now, but most of us still have a few years of mining and forging left in our tired old bodies". He then has to clear his throat, and takes a large quaff of Ale before continuing.
"The mines are below the forge... all in the same place. Made in convenient to transport ore and all. The need for weapons and forging slowed down somewhat after the treaty, and then when that bastard three-headed devil dog came up, it just wasn't worth the sacrifice of life to keep the forge lit. No battles, no need for fantastic weapons". A sad look comes over his craggy face. "Not sure if that creature's still around or not, nobody's pried around up there and ages, but as we get older we reminisce. It would sure be grand to bring back the skulls of those lost in the mines there for a final rest before all of us that remember sever the mortal coil. We'd pay dearly for that". He then finishes that Ale, and signals for another.
If you decide to undertake the fools errand of clearing that place out... and I can tell by the look in your eye that's your plan... we'd pay you gold for every skull you can return. Let us do a final thing to honor our dead".
Once they all agree on traveling to the necropolis and recover dead dwarves' skulls and the weapons of the Dragonlords, Aristeides starts trying to dismiss that feeling of... skipping something. But he doesn't know what, so...
"And where can we find such a coin?" he asks when Kyrah explains about Damon.
The necropolis held the weapons they would require to fight against Sydon and his army of titanspawn, yet the situation grew more convoluted with the mention of some kind of guardian. Mateo's face was scrunched in thought but he held his insight until he returned back towards the table after speaking with the dwarves
Mateo listened intently, nodding as the dwarves explained the history of the mines and the forge. There was not just the strategic benefit of reopening the mine once more, which would resupply the city once more with the ores necessary to go to war once the Oath of Peace was no longer in effect, but there was the social benefit as well. The fallen dwarves had not received a peaceful burial yet and to bring back their skulls to their living descendants would be a victory in morale. Such a victory could get them on the path to winning the city over from the clutches of the Order of Sydon.
"We are a gathering of fools, that is to be certain, but we will nonetheless try to do what we can. You have already paid your dues, you will not need to fight alongside us. Just remember the fools that helped you and yours during these troubling times, yeah?" He would offer a hand to the dwarf, shaking it firmly before he rose from his seat and returned to the table alongside the others.
Mateo slipped back into his seat again, his brow furrowed in thought. Aresteides was right in looking into that path, they would need a coin if they hoped to pass the guardian. Either that or a cunning trick and Mateo did not yet know enough about this protector.
"Perhaps those missing warriors had a coin? We presume that they were lost in the necropolis but they may never had arrived, for all we know." Mateo murmured, turning towards the others. "Kyrah, what can you tell us of this Damon? Is he a servant of the Titans or the Gods? Why is he protecting the necropolis?" He would discuss the bounty for returning the skulls of the dwarves in a moment, there were more pressing matters at hand.
"Wait! Must be the coin Proteus gave us, ain't it?" Aris doesn't have the coin, but he's completely sure they got it. Well, almost sure. As of right now, he hopes they took it, but he's mentally recalling all the places they could have foolishly spent the coin on wine...
The centaur's second thoughts confirmed his initial thoughts that the dwarves would NOT be good to fight and only be good to move into the Forge AFTER the Fellowship cleared the threat.
Coronus absorbs Kyrah's statement with a quizzical look on his face and repeats, "The DRAGONLORDS were the Order of the Gods? The Dragonlords WERE the Order of the Gods?" The thought apparently did not taste well in his mouth.
"So Kyrah, you're telling us that the gods had to IMPORT talent from beyond Thylea to defeat Sydon and the titans? Well, it worked for 500 years. You cannot argue with results." The centaur shrugged and took a long drought of mead.
"At least you are recruiting LOCAL talent this time, such as it is, so there's a hope to break the racial divide of the land. And why we need a new Order of the Gods, call it what you want, to combat the Order of Sydon. An organization that has dwarves, humans, centaurs and satyrs fighting FOR the gods, but it maybe needs a better name." Coronus sits back contemplating.
"So, Necropolis first. Get the weapons. Then, clear the Forge, so they can be repaired. And return to save the demi-goddess, right? So who has a map to the Necropolis?"
As he downs his fourth mead, Lysander reaches into his pouch to produce the coin and slaps it on the table. "To be honest, I thought it was for spending."
He turns a bit towards Kyrah and Coronus' conversation. "If the Gods were the dragonlords, did they ride the dragons or were they the dragons. MY knowledge of the lore is a bit unspecif- unspefi- it's a bit off." He shakes his head. "Bad time to swear to kill dragons, I guess. Good thing Kaia isn't here." For a moment, it almost seems that his mood would darken if not for the return of Amara and Zoey.
"Ah, Zara, Amy. You've been gone too long." He gives his patented I could get used to this. wink at Mateo.
Mateo picks up the coin from the table, looking over for a few moments now with a careful eye. It looked like they had the tools necessary now to retrieve the weapons and repair them if needed. All they needed to do was clear a mine that may still be ruled by some hellbeast, pay their coin to the guardian of the necropolis, and defeat or avoid the denizens and nefarious traps that laid within. All in all, a straightforward plan.
"I know you are a native Coronus but, as the legends say, the Dragonlords came to Thylea the same way many of our ancestors did; they arrived by boat. Whether they were called here, stumbled across it, or felt the pull of fate, it is hard to say and should be left to the halls of philosophers. The natives here were very adamant about destroying all who had settled here and until that point, we were terrorized by the Titans and their subordinates." Mateo's face turns to a warm smile as Coronus contemplates for a time, the half-elf nodding in agreement. "I agree though; this time we must have a better union. I, personally, think Sydon's wrath will not discriminate. He was failed by his followers and spurned by those who followed the ones who forced him into an oath. When he comes for us, I think it is to remake the land entirely. No one will be spared." Mateo would chuckle for a moment, looking into his mug of mead. "It'd almost be worth the look of surprise on his followers' faces to see that they won't be spared."
"I agree; we clear the necropolis first and reclaim the weapons of the Dragonlords. Perhaps we can even find out what became of the warriors while we're at it." He would look to Kyrah when the centaur mentions needing a map. It would leave Mateo flabbergasted if the Goddess of Song did not know where the heroic Dragonlords laid.
With the two serving girls returning back to them, Mateo would laugh at Lysander's wink and lean back in his seat. If they could get there quickly, he'd move to assemble the party and head onwards towards destiny. If it would be better served to rest an evening, Mateo was quite inclined to stay with friendly faces, good food, and tasty mead.
Kyrah listens to the party discuss their options, occasionally making a note or sketch in one of her many books. She then clears her throat and speaks.
"I am not the author of this epic tale, I only hold the pen... but if allowed I'd like to give my take... The Forge has not been operated in centuries, and if I had to guess I don't think you just walk in turn a wheel and everything returns to full functioning, In addition ore must be mined and workers must be found. If I were plotting a path I'd clear the forge first, and let Volkan start his restoration, while you go to the Necropolis and retrieve more weapons for your prophecy. While he is reforging you could figure out what to do about Anora. By the time you've resolved that, perhaps Volkan will be done with at least some of your weapons. But again, the decision is yours, just trying to make the best use of time".
She then turned to Lysander. "You should have spent more times with the history books, and less with the sword... and other excesses. Schoolchildren know that the Dragonlords worked with the Dragons in the war, not as them".
She then spreads out her map showing you where the Forge is located (Great Falls of Arkelon, and where the Necropolis is as well. "Here keep this map. You'll need it".
"Kyrah, you need to be careful. Any more words of wisdom and you'll upset your sister." Mateo said with a smirk, lifting his mug in respect. "I say we clear the forge and mines, letting Volkan begin his work. It will give us a good test for our ability and prepare us for our delve into the necropolis. We set out in the morning when the sun rises. Fair?"
"Works for me." Aris is happy to be set on a course, finally. He longs for some rest and reading, something he's not being able to enjoy for quite some time, but is not everyday that a whole tavern worships you like a messiah, so he stays with the others and puts down some more glasses of wine before retiring.
The party continues to enjoy the fruits of being the hope of a nation but plans on leaving the next morning to travel to the Mithral Forge. They begin to follow the banks of the Arkelon River south towards the falls at dawn, with the hopes of making it there before dark if they travel steadily.
This long-abandoned road is rocky and overgrown with roots and thorny shrubs. It winds westward along the granite cliffs of the Estorian
tributary. North of the road are expansive steppes, and beyond that, hazy blue mountains. The sky is gray and cold by day.
As the day draws to a close with pleasant if arduous trek along the abandoned mining road the mist from the falls shows itself in the distance, and the roar of the raging water starts to eke into the travelers consciousness a different sound appears.
The thunder of hooves can be heard from the north. You see a dozen mounted men riding in your direction. The riders wear bronze helmets, and they carry long pikes tied with flowing scarlet ribbons. As the riders draw closer, you realize that they aren’t riders at all.
They are centaurs—nomadic warriors with the torsos of men and the lower bodies of horses.
The Centaurs change direction and head right towards the party.
What do you do?
The travel to the forge was a hard climb but an enjoyable one nonetheless. Mateo savored these moments to travel out throughout the world, to see strange and new sights that no one had ever seen. How long had it been since someone purposefully moved along these trails and headed in this direction. As the roar of the waterfalls began to grow, another sound began to grow as well. It seemed it was not as long as Mateo had hoped it would have been since someone traveled this direction.
The party of centaurs comes down the path and begins heading towards them, Mateo's eyes widening at their numbers. He looks around them all and realizes that the terrain is strictly against them in terms of advantage. Drawing his bow, he steps behind Coronus and Lysander but makes sure to speak loud enough for them all to hear.
"Don't surrender but don't start a fight either. There are too many and any good chokepoint is far away. We are beaten if we get into a conflict." While he has an arrow nocked, he does not draw and take aim. This situation had a chance to go from bad to worse but it certainly depended on how the approaching centaurs would react. Maybe having Coronus with them would be the blessing they need.
After departing the city, Coronus was able to breathe again. Deep breaths of the scents floating on the wind that relaxed and invigorated him. Estoria was not built for the size of centaurs in the streets, buildings and rooms. And the scent was atrocious. But that was behind him.
He carried on with his daily routine prayers, but his faith was shaken. Who heard his prayers? Who granted him divine powers? Was he a pawn of Sydon who clearly was the most ruthless and conniving of the divinity? The only comfort was habit and traditions that reminded him of his parents and family who were lost. And his ancestors who had achieved greatness.
Seeing the band of centaurs approaching, he had no idea who they were. He didn't recognize their colors, their pikes, or who ranged this southern border of the Heartlands.
He nodded at Mateo's comment and stepped forward ahead of Lysander to speak for the Fellowship. He readied his shield emblazoned with the mark of Chiron, Sydon's lidless eye with the tail of a comet. And, he rested his hand on the handle of his sheathed sword. He blessed himself and the fellowship with the guidance of Chiron.
After they stop, he addresses them, "Hail, cousins. Well met. I am Coronus. Who have we the opportunity to meet today?"
For his part, Lysander stands to the side of Coronus to support his ally, his hand gripping his silvered spear- prepared but not aggressive. It's as if to say, It's your move. We have your back.
He's sure to stay silent. He's fought centaurs in the steppes before. He's killed more than a few, but that was with a cohort of centurions at his back. Heroes or not, they were only three real combatants now. Four if you count Aristedies, but despite his wise counsel, in a fight Lysander did not often count the sage. Though he had grown to like and rely on his wisdom nonetheless.
The party of Centaurs reigns up riding around the party in a circle and soon stops surrounding the group, but not being overly aggressive. They stand silent for a moment, spears still. Finally a large centaur with a blue dyed mohawk descending and meeting his mane. He walks inside the circle, and surveys the party his eyes finally coming to rest on Coronus.
"So you are the leader of this group then... cousin". His eyes come to rest on the shield Coronus bears and he smiles a bit. "I am called Hukar in the common tongue, and am the chief of the Guardians of the Falls. Why do you trespass in these lands"?
There look to be twelve centaur warriors counting Hukar surrounding the party. The smell of their sweat and breath fill the air.
Coronus confidently stands his ground as they approach and circle. No one would win a conflict here. While the centaurs outnumber them, the Fellowship travels with a god and a demigod. So the centaurs might think that they have the upper hand, even if they might not. Need to take a middle path of equals.
"We are traveling together to the Mithral Forge as tasked by the gods. Do you have time to escort us?"
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Hukar looks at Coronus with an unreadable expression, then looks down at the symbol on his shield, then back up scanning the group.
"I hear the words you speak, but wonder at their sincerity. You carry an abomination of the Storm Lords symbol prominently but seek assistance for a mission of the gods"!
He then turns to the remainder of his party and makes a hand sign that none of you recognize and the troop bursts out in laughter.
INSIGHT - DC12
We have no quarrel with your group, so will let you pass this day. The gods days of telling us what we can do, where we can go, and who we can do it with are drawing to a close".
"If your destination is the great falls, perhaps you can repay us for sparing your lives. I fear that two members of my tribe have fallen into the hands of the vile Troglodytes who dwell in the caves there. They come out at night emerging to hunt for food, and I believe they must have somehow taken Grli, and Nossin captive. We do not know if they still live, but the paths and tunnels of the mines are too treacherous for our kind.
He then looks at Coronus and shakes his head.
"If you are determined to go there, then perhaps you could search for my Kin, and at least let us know if they live or not".
He then takes an Ivory horn from a pouch hanging around his neck. "Blow this horn on the riverbank when you have determined their fate, and it will summon us. Perhaps there will even be a reward".
Then with a whistle and another hand symbol, the group of centaurs quickly reform and continue on their way with a thunderous cacophony of hoofbeats.
"Good!" Aris breathes. "Well done, Coronus, you grasped well it was not the proper time to fight." It seems to Aris that the centaur is getting more involved with the situation, and that doubt is in his mind. That's good, for doubt is the sprout of knowledge.
"Shall we go?"
Coronus takes the horn and nods, "Hopefully, we will find your kin alive."
After they leave, he nods to the scholar and starts moving toward the Forge again.
Lysander grins at his friend. "Thank you Coronus. I had little interest in bloodshed. Even so, perhaps the chance to continue to bring our peoples together by helping them instead of trading blows... that is too tempting to ignore."
The party starts forward as the thunder of hooves disappears to be replaced with the ever-growing roar of falling water. Finally the river spreads out and seems to disappear as a cloud of mist rises into the air. You have arrived at the Great Falls of Arkelon said to conceal the Mithral Forge.
This rocky promontory looks out over a spectacular vista dominated by the Great Falls of Arkelon. The river cascades over a sheer cliff and roars into a vast, semi-circular lake, throwing up a white mist.
The Great Falls are almost beyond description. It’s as if an entire ocean has spilled over the edge of the world, and you stand marveling at the space beyond. You have never seen anything so grand. The sound of rushing water is almost deafening, and the light of the fading day gleams across the water like red gold.
Four massive statues of stone hands surround the lake. To the south, you can see the river snaking down from the mountains, through the Oldwoods, while the snowcapped Mithral Mountains dominate the western horizon.
You spot a wooden path descending down into the misty riverbank where the former entrance to the mines can be seen...yes... former entrance. The ancient tunnel has been collapsed... probably by the Dwarves when they deserted the mines.
Looking out over the lake you can see that it is flanked by four massive statues of hands, two per side.
Religion DC10, History DC12
As you look around the area you find an alternate route... which might be challenging for Coronus.
This rocky ledge leads up from the riverbank and passes through a short tunnel, which deflects an endless cascade of water from the Great Falls. The ledge grows narrower as it ascends, stretching for a quarter-mile along a sheer cliff of slick black rock. Beyond the ledge, a shimmering curtain of translucent water spills down to crash on the rocks below. Cold white mist fogs your vision, and roaring water drowns out all other sound.
You can see that the path leads under the waterfall, and wet moss covers the sides, though the path seems well used.
Matteo listens quietly for the moment but is very attentive at the interaction between Coronus and the other centaurs. He isn't able to pick up their nuances though, his eyes too keen on watching for blades or for those lances to be leveled more dangerously. The interaction goes smoothly and they were invited to help two of the tribe's missing centaur, rescuing them from the clutches of the troglodytes that lurked underground.
"That went very well. I concur though, a chance to earn some good faith is not always a poor thing." A reward wasn't that bad either for helping another either. Mateo's pragmatic nature shined through with that mentality as they continued their way along the path towards their destination. The roar of the waterfalls grew louder and though he had heard the story, he had never imagined how beautiful the sight truly was.
"Amazing..." Mateo said in awe, a smile on his face. If time was not pressing, part of him wished to just sit and watch the water fall into the great lake below and enjoy the cool mists that lingered in the air.
"The Hands of Kentamine..." Mateo murmurs as he stares off of the edge and down below, his eyes looking towards the other ways down the waterfall. He doubt the troglodytes had found a way through the collapsed entryway, dwarves were anything but incompetent when it came to securing their mines, but there may have been another entrance found below. The only path down though seemed...rather harrowing.
"So...my suggestion is we take some rope and we tie it around Coronus. Lysander and I will guide him downwards and, should he slip, we're the best to catch him. Sound fair?"
"Yes, truly amazing. And fortunately Kentimane the Elder Titan remains dormant." The centaur marvels at the scenery. Nothing like this in the Heartlands or the Great Plains.
He looks at the trail as it ascends into the mist. "Uh, yes, Mateo. I've some rope here too. Those rocky stairs were not made for four legs."
Mateo and Lysander rope up their half-stallion friend, and with one in front, and the other in the rear begin their precarious journey.