Sword & Stone of Aglaonis
Surprisingly enough, the trip was surprisingly uneventful, despite the dangers of travelling in so small a group. Merideth and Greppa had plenty of time to think, and plan, and ultimately decided that the best place to look for Allas' new chosen was at the largest temple to Allas they could find in the city.
Finding it, in a city older, larger and even (if possible) less organized than Theralis, however, was a chore. Finally, Greppa managed to drag Merideth off the streets and into a shop, where Greppa asked for directions.
They met Bellos shortly after that, and developed an instant dislike for the person attempting to fill Athan's immense shoes. Taller than either of them, and reasonably athletic looking, he was nonetheless a midget compared to Athan, and an anorexic midget at that. Dark, curly locks framed a tan, unshaven face and dark, dangerous blue eyes. With an Aglaonese meat cleaver slung across his back, a fur-lined jacket and heavy oiled cloak, his intense gaze made him look like some madman fresh out of the wilderness.
It began innocuously enough. They ignored the wild man hanging out by the temple doors, and strode, twin white cloaks sweeping behind them, into the center. With chins high and eyes stern, they requested an audience with the head priest, and upon meeting with said august personage, explained their dreams and that they were looking for someone "guided" to the temple.
The priest grinned, and pointed at the door. Or rather, the guy standing by it. He was ignoring them, as well - to his eyes, they looked like just another pair of youthful acolytes. He wasn't a day older, mind, but he was weathered at least.
Greppa and Merideth walked back to the door, Greppa leading with, "Ah, hello. We had a vision that led us here, to meet someone. You, perhaps. Do you happen to have something like this?" And he pulled his tunic down at the neck to reveal his birthmark in the sign of Allas.
He just nodded, carefully measuring the pair, but said, "It ain't where I want to show yeh, though."
Greppa's already dark skin deepened a notch. Merideth just raised an eyebrow - healers don't get far without seeing some really ugly body parts. Regaining his composure, Greppa pressed on, "Well, in that case, we... and yourself, apparently... are the chosen of Allas. The birthmark is her sign to us. We don't know all of what we are intended for yet, but we know it starts in Theralis. Will you join us?"
"What's yeh name?"
"Greppa. And this is Merideth."
"Mine's Bellos. I'd love to go with yeh, but we've got a fight goin' with orcs at Trappin' Pass. I'm only here cuz o' the dreams. I was headin' back next."
Greppa, irritated, looked at Merideth. She knew how to stoke the fires of heroism better than anyone. Merideth, meanwhile, was looking appraisingly at Bellos. He seemed honest, if a bit backwater, so she counteroffered, "What if we helped with this fight? Would you come with us then?"
"Sure. I just ain't goin' to leave 'em in a lurch. They're expectin' my help."
That, at least, impressed the pair. Greppa, as valuable as he was to Theralis, could be done without - perhaps this young man was a worthy successor. The three left the temple, to see what they could do at Trapping Pass.
"Field of Battle"
Perhaps not.
Greppa and Merideth surveyed the battlefield, and it was all they could do not to sneer with Theralis superiority. Several dozen camps of humans, carrying those ridiculous swords over their backs, were scattered about the top end of the slope. The orcs, almost a mirror image of the Aglaonis "organization", we scattered about at the bottom end of the slope.
"It's between fights," Bellos offered helpfully. Somewhere down below, an orc, possibly betting with his peers, hurled a spear upslope, missing a camp by a few feet. The Aglaonese startled to their feet, yelling imprecations downslope while the orcs laughed.
As far as Greppa could see, what arcanists Aglaonis had were still safely in their towers. They certainly weren't here. "Bellos... I'm an arcanist. I can do some pretty impressive stuff. Would your people be offended if I routed these orcs?"
There was a long pause. Bellos just stared at him, then, "No, but we could ask one o' the captains."
Within minutes of that, Greppa was airborne, picking an altitude where he could drop fireballs accurately without fear of spears. Within minutes of that, as he dropped conflagration after conflagration on the open areas, the orcs were howling into the woods. Greppa landed, irritation evident on his face, "You want to fight real orcs, come with us."
Bellos, quietly studying the tiny little black man, just nodded.
