The Centaur warband clashed with us using familiar raiding tactics- a huge charge, hitting hard, a short engagement and melting away before we had a chance to form a cohesive counter attack.
So it was, battered and bruised, that we made it back to the gates of Estoria. Pholon met us at the gates and told us that the teenagers we freed from the grove had all made it back safely with him. It’s a blessing we sent them ahead, if they had been caught by the centaurs, we might be carting more of them back in a bier.
We headed to the Dragon Shrine to return Balmytria’s horn and speak to Aesop. He helped tend our wounds and answered some questions on the history of Balmytria and the Dragonlords. Balmytria (which I keep confusing as Bal-Mytros, Braz would not be pleased) was the first of the dragons to die, after being bonded to Xander. He couldn’t tell us the names of any of the other dragons, but suggested that the resting places in the necropolis might have the information.
Our curiosity sated we made preparations to fulfill the first part of the prophecy and drink from the horn. As Alke first lifted it, it seemed to sense our intentions, and filled with a deep purple wine. We all drank deeply.
As in the Oracle's cave, my head swam. A deep drowsiness overtook me and blackness soon followed.
It was the smells that came first. Salt air, blown clear and fresh over the ocean. Wet wood, the slight mustiness of canvas. The creaking of sails and ropes under tension. As the wooden surface under me dipped a light spray dusted my face.
We were together once more, the decks of a long ship with banks of oars stretching down each side. A device stood before us, with intricate brass inlays and the patterns of stars from the night sky.
Then the winds shifted, and the sweet smell of decay washed up. As I glanced down at the decks, each oar was manned by the corpse of a long dead sailor, their sightless eyes fixed upon us, weathered skin shrunk tight across their faces. Rather than the malignant air of hostility though, they seemed… dormant. Waiting somehow.
Mist swirled round once more. Blackness soon followed.
As we awoke, what had seemed like mere moments had been hours passing and the early morning sun was peeking through the high windows of the shrine. Aesop helped us break our fast with breads, honey and fruit and patiently sat as we pushed him with more questions.
What we had seen was a ship he knew of, but hadn’t seen in centuries. Estor Arkalanders’ own ship, the Ultros, defied the ban of the Titans to sail openly on Thylea’s seas. The ship had gone missing as the Oath of Peace came into effect, with rumours that the crew had been cursed to sail the seas for all time in penance.
It seems once more our fate is tied to that of the Dragonlords of old. We will need that power if we are to withstand the wrath of Lutheria and Sydon.
Aesop asked us our next steps. The prophecy spoke of the Necropolis and the Mithral forge and we debated which might be our next step. Aesop asked us to check in on the Tomb of Adonis if we ventured to the Necropolis. He warned us of the guardian of the tomb and that we would need what he called a Challenge Coin to be permitted entry. When he saw the golden coin Proteus gave us back in the Oracle's temple, he relaxed, telling us that those golden coins were only ever given to the dragonlords themselves. It’s not clear which dragonlord held the coin we have, but it’s a puzzle worth unravelling as to how it ended up in Versi’s possession.
We decided to put our affairs in order here before heading to the Forge. We visited Anora, who had taken on the burden of rulership here in Estoria. It’s a task she excels at, but she pushes herself too hard. Pythor has left to do what he does best and defend Estoria’s borders from raiders who might prey upon its people.
I took a few nuts for my little friend and from there we went to brave Corinna’s vineyard to make sure she had been reunited with her father. We sat for a while recounting her bravery and how proud he should be of her actions in protecting her friends. As we got ready to make our leave, he presented Braz with his father’s spear, to replace the one damaged by the acid creatures in our journey to the temple. Enchanted to fly like a thunderbolt as it is flung at our enemies, it is a potent weapon and a significant gesture of thanks on Therikles’ part.
As we left, I wandered through his vines and blessed the ground they grew in to ensure a good harvest. Allies as steadfast as Therikles deserve some happiness, and every step we can take to undo the misery Sydon visited on the land is one worth taking.