The screams rang around the chamber like a tolling bell as the heroes of the prophecy piled down the stairs. Helikaon and Calliope rushed forward, leaving swirling vapours in their wake. As the party turned the corner there scene around them was frantic and horrifying. Versi was held fast, high above the source flowing stream and almost at the ceiling by torrential twisting tendril streaming up from the stream.
As Braz charged round the corner he looked left and reeled back as his stomach jumped into his mouth. He wasn't sure if it was the misplaced proportions of her face? Her withered yellow eye? The wet slap of her seaweed feet on the floor? The hag before him filled him with disgust and horror and it was all he could do to thrust his spear wildly towards this monstrosity.
The cramped conditions worked in the parties favour as a volley of magic and violence was sent towards the twisting bonds holding the oracle. Calliope rose above the flowing stream, for a beat time seemed to stop as she produced a powerful incantation which sent the Hag fleeing, allowing Helikaon to deftly wound the hag as she fled, in a quick flurry and turn he ended the menace in the cave. As the body fell for the mortal wound it appeared to fall into kelp and water before it had even hit the floor.
As the Oracle rested from the ordeal the party sought clues of the ambushers' origin. In a bag in her possession, as well as valuable magic casting materials was a note, apparently from Sydon offering the reward of a lifted curse for the Orcale's kidnap and passage to Praxis, Sydons lighthouse and lair.
The party rested and tended to their wounds whilst waiting for Versi. The mood was sober and reflective, like the clear pools of water that trickled around the feet of the party.
After what felt like an extremely long time Versi emerged. With her third eye covered and her robes straightened she approached the party and spoke of their place as the party of the prophecy. With consent she began to speak of the importance of the task at hand and that the heroes of the heartlands agreed to have the procephy read to them.
The thick vapours seemed to fill the chamber and were thick in the nostrils. The light reflecting from the pool became stronger and stronger the Versi’s voice, which had seemed to be echoing around the grotto spiraled round Braz until it felt like it was echoing off the inside of his skull.
The haze lifted and Braz felt like he had been transported and returned, although all evidence was that he had remained in the same spot.
3 tasks:
Lost forge
Dragonlord weapons
Drink deep from the Dragon Horn
The only words he could remember clearly were the phase Versi had used to describe failure: black fire.
His mood darkened. He felt the weight of the task ahead grow. Anger rose, then fell, then guilt, pity, inadequacy. He had set out following the words of his mentor to find a solution to a band of harpies, nothing more. The future of the plane of existence rested with him and the others he had been travelling with for less than a week. He began to stare at his hoof, picking at a clod of mud with the end of his spear. Why him, why now. He felt these thoughts racing to Mytros hoping for a clear answer. Surely the goddess of the dawn would want to aid the hero of prophecy like Kyrah had. Braz had been struck dumbfounded at the revelation that this was Kyrah, one of the five gods but was glad to have such a powerful ally.
One by one, the Oracle invited the party to speak one to one. Alke was happy to speak in public but Braz was still reeling from the revelations and only took in the vaguest mentions of the old woods and Demetria.
As his turn approached Braz spoke to the Oracle with a heavy heart. Although he knew as a hero of prophecy it was his destiny, to discover his higher purpose had made him feel as weak as a calf. Versi was kind and offered him platitudes and he felt that she even believed them, but it did not remove the yoke from his shoulders.
Braz spoke to Versi of the childishness of his purpose to rid the village from Harpys compared to his new task - she advised him that this was still a noble goal and to head to Telamok and to speak to the ancient powerful lich for advice.
As the party regrouped from their conversations with the oracle they were offered advice - the attendants told tales of the necropolis, the forge, the old woods but Braz felt like he had aged.
Kyrah then suggested something which helped Braz to feel less alone, an oath of fellowship, to share fame and fortune together on the journey to complete the oath. Braz was happy to share this and as he felt the grip of the party onto his large leathery hands he felt less alone.