Darkly
"A thaumaturgic link more likely."
The road starts to incline upwards, and the trees thin slightly. A few beams of sunlight filter through the canopy onto the leaves and mosses that clutter the path. A spider the size of an apple lurks in a web the size of a sail in the forest to the left of the trail. Birds are stuck to the web and dessicated. Crassus seems to pay it no heed.
Relying once more on Crassus for inside information -
"Do the spiders get any bigger?"
Crassus shakes his head. He pauses, and scratches '300 years' in the marble.
Whispering: "What in the name of God does that mean?"
"Do you mean that spider is three hundred years old?"
Isat's eyes widen as he takes in the implications.
"Crassus, are you saying this world has been in existence for 300 years?"
To Modius
"Lysoskevos must have built this world not long after your rabbi died."
Nods and smiles.
<Modius has begun developing a twitch over his left eye.>
"Gaul Hall Modius, Gaul Hall. Constantinople is still there, I'm sure of it."
My people believe that it is bad luck to kill a spider. They never grew so large though. We should take some cobwebs to stunch bleeding, but I don't want that thing close to me.
Paper frowns
"I think it would be best if we refrained from taking anything absolutely not needed from this place. I feel as if we are hemmed by forces we cannot perceive."
"I agree with Paper. Unless a thing is gifted to us, it is not ours to take. We can find spiderwebs in other places."
"Christ. I hate spiders."
<Modius is gettinng the look of someone who is going to be waking up in a cold sweat from nightmares of this place for the rest of his years.>
<Modius moves away from the spiders. He nervously twirls a frayed lace on his harness.>
"Shall we?"
"Move on?" Isat looks again to Crassus for guidance.
Crassus was looking at the spider. He hardly hears Isat, then startled, he lifts his hands as if to say, up to you.
Isat (and anyone else who wishes to) may make a sense motive check to divine Crassus' intention.
DC 15.
DC 20.
DC 25.
Perception (Sense Motive) (1d20 6=24)
Isat looks from his companions to Crassus and back again. "Crassus, forgive us for imposing on you. We are very much strangers in this land and eager to meet its creator. Your task is not to lead us there."
"Come along gentlemen, let's find Lysoskevos before Modius gets any more disturbed."
He returns to the path.
<Modiu trots off down the pathmuttering to himself:> "Because, because, because, because...."
Your senses of time have been severely compromised. Crassus seems well rested, but it has been fourteen hours since you all had your last sleep, and your internal clocks seem to be set around midnight. Stratos and Isat are the most tired of all of you.
The forest thins out completely, and gives way to meadows that burst with spring flowers and vivid green grasses. A large brook runs beside the path, with bright green weed rippling on the banks. Small yellow butterflies, and placid bees dip here and there into the meadow. You are on the bank of a hill. on the far horizon, a brilliant white line hangs in the sky, above a mountain that looks very like Olympus. Other hills become visible as you crest the one you are on. There are soft rolling hills stretching for at least twenty miles of the roads path.
Two miles away, there is a profusion of marble buildings. This cluster of marble is not on the path you are on. It has a cobbled road leading to it. The buildings vary in height from two to three storeys. The largest is domed, and is seven storeys tall. Roads and alleys cut through the cluster of buildings. Large glass windows of clear glass are just visible in the distance. No smoke or other signs of habitation are visible. As with everything here, the proportions are perfect, and the layout of the buildings allows each to keep identity, and yet blend into the whole. None of the buildings look like houses or businesses. All seem to be works of architectural wonder.
Crassus points to the buildings, and again, scratches a word in the dust. "Art"
A little apart from the rest of the buildings, on the crest of another hill, is a replica of the Parthenon.
Isat tries to fight through his unacknowledged exhaustion, unable to bear the idea of missing a single second of his time in this new world. Even so, his normally pale complexion is even paler than usual and he is aware at some level that his judgment might not be impeccable.
"Crassus, is this where we can find Lysoskevos; it is not on our path, but is it our journey's end?"
Crassus shakes his head. He points to a small white line in the sky, on the far side of the hills and another forest. The line is a small rectangle. The scale is hard to figure. It is vertical, and white, and hanging in the sky. It is motionless. Judging from the distance, it may be seventy feet tall and forty feet wide. It is a few hundred feet from the peak below it. You have another day to travel, at least. The buildings to the east are not your destination.
Scanning the horizon, Isat looks dubious. "I'm not sure I can travel for another day without resting. Particularly if we have to learn to fly before we reach our goal."
"Do you have night here."
"Only if Thereus puts the stars back and turns the dials" Isat shakes his head. "I can't believe I said that and it makes sense."
"Your standards of sensibility are sliding Isat."
"This from a man who worships the ghost of a crucified rabbi."
"This from a man who worships the ghost of a crucified rabbi."
"If Horthgar walks again I suppose you'll stop laughing, eh?"
Paper snickers
"So you will worship Hrothgar should he live again? I have no doubt that the dead can come back from Hades' realm on occasion. I just don't feel like naming them a divinity for the trick. "
"By that logic, we'll all be divine if we get out again. Personally, I know I'm not. I can't speak for the rest of you."
"Your logic is slipping along with your sense good Isat. It would simply prove the possibility.
"My dead rabbi's divinity is not evidenced by his resurrection anyway, but by his teachings. Those who say otherwise are fools. In fact, were you to spend half the time you take to joke about him actually learning what he taught you might appreciate the beauty of his love and understanding."
<Adjusts his pack.>
"Your problem is that you judge him by his followers."
"At least I have the confidence to carry my beliefs without mocking your godlings."
"It's been a long day Modius, logic doesn't seem as reliable as it used to be. You're right about one thing though. I need to learn more of this rabbi of yours. Judging by the follower I know, his teachings must touch on some of the great mysteries. When we get back, we'll drink a lot and argue."
He pulls himself together and looks from the path to Crassus.
"Is it safe for us to rest or should we continue?"
Crassus shrugs. He points to the crest of the hill you are on, points at his eyes, and makes a sweep of his arm around his head.
"Your problem is that you judge him by his followers."
Paper scowls
"And how else do you measure a god than by the character of his followers? Your dead rabbi may have taught some great mystery, but at least MY gods are willing to accept any others as competitors, believing that they will win devotion through their deeds, not because they have proscribed all others."
Paper scowls deeper
"Were I to judge gods by their followers then in the end I would surely conclude that all are equally inane."
"Let's go check out the view."
<Modius trots off toward the hill indicated by Crassus.>
"It's a plan. I haven't had one of those for a while."
Isat wanders along, fighting fatigue.
<Uncomfortable with the dissention stirred up by talk of religion, Modius whips up a little travel chat.>
"I spy with my little eye something that begins with...."
"H"
<Looks at the bundle on Crassus' back.>
"No."
Hill?
"Right. My turn. I spy with my little eye..."