Deep in the woods Corrina led us to a temple. Derelict, but somehow still majestic and imposing. Maybe because its builders were gygans and their size is reflected in the huge blocks of stone put together to make this edifice. Maybe because it still stands here from a time before the Dragonlords or new gods were even a rumour in these lands; and it still stands against one all devouring power that always wins in the end, nature.
But even nature has been twisted in this place. A mad squirrel welcomes us (I have had worse diplomatic welcomes!), but even after dispelling the transmutation spell, the gnome ‘behind’ seems insane! I admit, I am angry after the previous encounter with the goatlings so quick to deal damage, but the group’s protectiveness of this creature make me somewhat apprehensive. It is just a squirrel! And if it’s a spy we are in far bigger trouble. Surprise seems to be the only advantage we currently have… so its life feels like a small trade-off. And I would have started by burning off its tail anyway…
Every room in this temple seems to bring some sort of unpleasant surprise. So much for our hope that there won’t be too many traps… First vines, followed by acid creatures and statues attacking us. Corrina, despite her youth and, hopefully, her lack of experience of situations like this, has her wits about her and proves herself to be both brave and effective. Definitely a good use for my crossbow. If we make it out alive I reckon she’ll go very far. May keep an eye on her if we’re still around in Estoria!
Yet, she, like the others seems to be taken with the illusion that sacrifices to gods will somehow help. In this case the sacrifice is to Sydon, who has tried to kill us many times already. Praise goes to Braz and Helikaon who at least manage to mutter something not involving our arch-nemesis. And poor, poor Hippofillius! My parents perished when I was just a babe and I always wanted to remember my parents, but his relationship with his father only reassures me that it could be worse.
I hesitantly toss a copper piece, though I genuinely doubt it will do us any good. This is a world in which magic is far from rare, a world in which I, cursed as I am, can create fires to scorch an enemy or thundering waves of power. So what, save for our reverence to them, makes gods so special? Why should we sacrifice to them? The moral standard? Oh, but let us look around: gods and goddesses are just petty beings. Sydon, ‘all-powerful’, will barley life a finger against us, leaving his acolytes, the Order, to do his work and badly at that, dying in droves. Kyrah is a failed poet who has nothing better to do than follow us around, Pythor is a drunk, incapable of running a city (his one good quality may be that he’s fathered Enora) whilst Volkan is just busy with trinkets while the world slowly falls apart. No, I won’t make sacrifices to any of the gods until they prove themselves either through power or moral standing…
P.S. Remember that rumour about the gygans tryst? Yes, the one I was challenged to create after the drunken night with the pirates from the Cerulean Sea negotiating trade. Well, that came back to haunt me… lessons must be learned about promising things whilst in a drunken stupor.