The Lost City – Part 2 (session 29)
The birdmen continued their bizarre dance around the nest. They pecked the ground looking for imaginary birdseed as the heroes looked on in bemusement. Brigit made ready to drive them off with her axe before Mazi spoke up.
“Let’s try a softer approach, Brigit.” She said.
She withdrew a pack of rations and broke off a chunk of bread. Trailing crumbs as she went, Mazi backed down the hallway. The birdmen sat up from their search, cocked their heads to the side, and watched the elf for a few moments. Suddenly they both lunged for the trail of breadcrumbs, jostling each other to get to the morsels.
Milo used the distraction to search the nest. His results disappointed everyone. It was just what it appeared to be, a giant bird’s nest. Milo shook his head in wonderment. What kind of strange place did Bargle teleport them to? A statue was set at the other end of the hall; hopefully it would hold more information about their mysterious whereabouts.
The statue was a golden copy of the tallest of the three at the top of the pyramid outside. The bearded man stood a mute watch guard, his piercing gaze fixed on the hallway stretched before him. In one upraised fist he held a jagged lightning bolt, in the other a balanced scale. Milo examined the statue closer. Some of the original wood of the statue could be seen through its gilded layer. He could find no secret devices or any more information about their surroundings anywhere though.
”It’s just gold leaf,” Milo said when he caught the look of bare avarice in Brigit’s face. ”I don’t see anything about where we are either.”
”Let’s continue on. There’s got to be someone or something else here.” Mazi said.
They entered one of the two doors in the east-west passage. It entered into what could only be a barracks room of sorts. Three double bunks lined the walls. The residents of the room looked up, startled by the interruption. Five men sat on the lower bunks, presumably conversing before they had entered. All five were dressed alike. They wore chainmail covered by blue tunics. The thing that attracted Milo’s attention was their face. Each wore a likeness of the bearded statue, masking their features. All five rose as the others entered the room.
Brigit was the first to break the awkward silence with her usual dwarven bluntness, ”Who are ya?”
One of the masked men spoke, ”Who are you and what are you doing in our quarters?” He seemed offended as well as surprised.
”Don’t know how we got here. We came from outside.” Brigit responded.
”Outside?” This caused some consternation among the five masked men. ”Not from below?”
”Yes, outside. Ya know, where all tha sun is?”
”Sun?” The men seemed to understand now what Brigit meant. ”Ah, you must mean the Eye of Zargon at the lake below. Are you worshippers of the Eye?” The men seemed to ready themselves for battle, dependant on the answer they received.
Milo answered carefully, ”No, not from below. We’re from above. You know, lots of sand, desert, bright sun, nothing for miles in any direction?”
”Ah, we’re not permitted to go above.”
”Not permitted? Is that because of this Zargon you talked about?” Milo asked.
”It is because of the evil of below. All are enslaved. The evil queen Zenobea is but a puppet.” The masked man broke off. ”Who are you that don’t know these things? We must bring you before the leader.” The speaker beckoned to one of the other men.
He left the room hastily at the motioned command, leaving through another door that would have led into the other room they skipped in the hallway outside. They could hear a muffled conversation from behind the door before the man returned. The original speaker led them into the next room. Milo was starting to have trouble telling them apart.
Three more double bunks lined the walls of the next room. This room also had a table and chairs set in the middle. Six more men stood waiting. One of them was slightly taller than the others. His mask appeared to be a bit fancier as well. It seemed more work was devoted to detail and slightly better materials were used. It was he that spoke.
”I am Kanadius. I understand you do not know from whence you came?” he sounded older, more distinguished than their last interrogator.
”We know where we came from,” answered Mazi, ”just not where we are.”
”Then you come from the Eye of Zargon?”
Milo rolled his eyes. ”No, no Eye of Zargon worshippers here. We come from above, where there’s nothing but sand and sun.”
”From the wastelands then?”
Milo sighed in relief. Finally someone was catching on. ”Yup, that’s it. We came down from the wastelands.”
”We fled the lands above long ago.” The man paused, ”Sit, eat. You must be hungry if you come from the wastelands.” He looked a little longer at Milo, ”You appear – strange.”
”Yeah, I get that a lot.” Milo said as he sat at the proffered table.
”Are you of the Magi or the Brotherhood then?”
”Errrr,” said Milo, nonplussed, ”that would depend. What are the Magi and Brotherhood?”
”No?” The man seemed confused. ”Allied with the Maidens then?”
”I can’t say we’d know the Magi from the Brotherhood from the Maidens, really.”
”Then perhaps you’d join the Brotherhood of Gorm?”
”Again, that would depend. What would that entail?” Milo asked carefully.
”You would join with us.” Kanadius stopped again, noticing another detail from the strangers. ”You don’t wear masks?”
Brigit spoke, ”Masks? Wha’ would we need wi’ masks?”
”To protect you, of course.” He then turned to one of his men, ”Go get them some masks.”
”Protects us? Does this have anything to do with the birdmen out there?” Milo asked.
Kanadius lowered his head and shook it sadly. ”That is the fate of our people. They are lost to us.” He settled down at the table next to them and continued. ”The Maidens respect us for our prowess in battle. We protect their homes and ourselves. The Magi are – well, the Magi are strange. They claim to be of the gods. As for me, I know the gods are dead. The Maidens follow Madarua, the mother. The Magi follow Usamigaras,” Milo’s ears pricked at the sound of his god’s name spoken by another. Kanadius continued, ”we of the Brotherhood follow Gorm.
“We escaped to here long ago. We cannot go up further or down. The maidens control the lower reaches, at least as far as they can until the rule of Zenobea takes over. She is but a puppet of Zargon, the evil below.”
Milo sat back in his chair, considering all that Kanadius had told them. His reverie was broken by the older man’s voice.
”Once again, I ask you, will you join us? You and the large man there are welcome in the Brotherhood of Gorm. Your women may worship with us, but they of course cannot ever be part of the Brotherhood.”
Milo ignored the comment about the women for the time being. ”What exactly would joining the Brotherhood entail?”
Kanadius seemed more than happy to expound. He sat up straight and expounded on the benefits of joining with the confidence of the best army recruiter Milo had ever seen. He smiled as it reminded him of his ‘recruitment’ in the streets of Darokin that seemed so far away now.
”You would worship Gorm with us, as brothers. We would aid you in all ways possible. Our home would be a place of refuge for you. Our numbers may be weak now, but we grow stronger by the day. Every brother we reclaim from Zenobea’s sacrifices aids in the cause.”
”Hold it, sacrifices?” Milo exclaimed.
”Yes,” Kanadius’ shoulders slumped again, ”Zenobea sacrifices our people to Zargon. More the reason for you to join us! You can aid us against this injustice! Will you join?”
Milo swallowed heavily as he considered the offer.
