Heroes' Hearth

[Ashen Lilies]

[The Crypt -> The Shrine]

The path upwards is short and unchallenging - a brief climb down the gently sloping staircase that curves gracefully towards the right, towards a brightening entryway that leads into a massive cavern.

Well, cavern might be a bit of a misleading term - it's more of a massive hollow, a gigantic open space right inside the heart of the mountain, open to daylight with a large jagged opening straight overhead, as if they were inside of a volcano, though no volcano was ever made of pure white marble, massive unbroken formations of shimmering white stone that would leave any sculptor or mason drooling jutting from the cavern walls in giant crystalline thrusts. The interior of the space is damp and lush, with curtains of hanging ivy draped from the marble crags like a palace ballroom, dripping with condensation into a vast, crystal clear lake that covers the entire bottom of the cavern, the water seeming to have its own luminescence from the reflecting marble underneath.

A delicate span of marble stretches out towards a a wide platform and dais in the center of the lake, top cross-hatched for grip against the lake's surface merely inches below, and they might notice its twin stretching out across thin air far above, at the mouth of the cavern. That's if what's occupying the dais isn't already occupying their full attention - a massive sculpture, easily over 500 ft tall, carved from what would seem to be a massive, seamless piece of the same marble cut from the cavern. In similar style to the statues in the previous crypt, this one is of a muscular, imposing looking woman, striking a firm pose as she gazes down towards Wenomir and Ilpholin, her face a regal mask of command. She's nude, except for a long cloak draped over one shoulder and arm and hanging nearly to the ground in elegant carved folds, but clearly intended to be no less a warrior than the armored knights interred in the chambers above - atop her head, instead of a crown, a close-faced helmet sits atop her hair like a cap, and in her right hand she wields a massive golden thunderbolt, held like a javelin at rest, ready to loft and throw in a single motion.

At her feet twin carved slabs of marble lie shut at an angle against the dais, likely doors to another sarcophagus kept safe within.

[Morty]

[The Shrine]

"That's not my preferred way of spending eternity, so I'd have to pass on that," Wenomir responds, before looking up at the statue. Is this supposed to be Nyneve's champion, or Nynever herself? He bows, and says: "We are here to speak with Nyneve."

He sure hopes someone can hear it, otherwise he's just talking to himself.

[Reinholdt]

[The Shrine]

Ilpholin has to suppress a low whistle. That is a very large, detailed statue. But it wasn't a dragon. Heck it wasn't even a statue of a dragon. When she first entered the room, she almost thought it was a dragon of massive size, but that was nothing more than expectations playing tricks for the briefest flicker of a moment. Were they supposed to bow? To kneel? Address the statue? Maybe the dragon was sealed beneath the feet under the marble slabs. Maybe it was a lot smaller than they expected and they just haven't spotted it yet because a gargantuan statue is drawing their attention.

All the same, confused Ilpholin will approach the dais and give a quick kneel in front of the statue, her eyes wandering around, looking for some indication of a third living creature besides herself and Wenomir.

[Artemis97]

[The Village of Avalon]

"I deserve merely what I am owed, that is all," says the dwarf, hefting his hammer. "And I will take it, when the chance arrives."

Balthier frowns. "Why do you feel you are owed strength? from who?"

[Ashen Lilies]

[The Shrine]

At first it would seem that the two of them really are the only two living beings there, the only sounds being the dripping of water from the hanging plants at the edges of the chamber, and Wenomir's voice, which easily carries and fills the entire space, though thankfully spared from echoing back at them by the dense curtains of vegetation absorbing the sound.

Silence reigns for just a brief moment, before it's overtaken by a faint rumble that breaks the mirror-like surface of the underground lake. To the right side of the statue, a ring of rippling water heralds the formation of a dark shadow that grows just beneath the surface. Even with such effects, Wenomir and Ilpholin may still find themselves caught by surprise, such subtle effects being a poor harbinger of a goddamn dragon smashing its way up through the surface of the lake in a single piercing thrust, throwing up an explosion of water which reaches nearly to the peak of the cavern, before falling back throughout as a light rain.

In terms of sheer shape and scale, Wenomir will find the creature to be very familiar. Beyond those most general structural similarities there, the dragon couldn't be more Abhorson's opposite. Where the volcano-dwelling dragon was a dark, imposing creature of blocky chunks and hard edges, crude slabs of basalt smashed together into a draconic form, edged with jagged spikes of obsidian and highlighted by the hellish bright orange glow of hot magma, Nyneve provides a contrasting reflection of her own surroundings. Elegant, graceful curves dominate a statuesque figure made entirely of cloudy, semi-translucent white marble that glitters with thousands of dazzling points of light as water falls off her form in sheets, reflecting the sunlight and the own strange luminescence of the lake. A ring of smoothly curving horns of pure gold forms an elegant crown for the dragon that arches her neck, swanlike, to bring her face to a more reasonable level for the two mortals in the room.

"I am here. Greetings, philosopher, and well met. What business have you with the caretaker of this shrine?"

[Morty]

[The Shrine]

Wenomir's only reaction to the dragon's appearance is to involuntarily raise his hand to shield his face from the torrent of water he believes is incoming. Even his inhuman reflexes don't allow for much more in the face of this.

"There's an object, dripping with pure corruption, that we have to safeguard until we know how to destroy it. And the corruption's only weakness is the power of dragons," he says, cutting right to the heart of the matter.

[Bonfire]

Thariza makes her way back there, followed by Ambrosia.

"I guess that could've gone worse. We didn't find anything, but we're back in one piece."

[bc56]

Bonfire

A white-armored figure approaches the bonfire. He carries a spear and another gadget on his back. Alewer takes a seat a short distance away, out of the heat, and freezes a cylinder of air into ice in his hand.

[Recaiden]

The superhero Arkangel is slumped by the fire, propped up by the tips of their mechanical wings. Masked face staring at the flames, unmoving, they pay Alewer no attention.

But he might still feel like he's being watched.

[bc56]

Bonfire

Alewer is more aware than most, and he registers the sensation of a watching eye, but doesn't recognize its source. He begins to use his powers to carve the block of ice into an intricate pattern, simply evaporating sections of ice he wishes to remove.

[Recaiden]

The observer, wherever they are, watches the ice sculpture intently - a block of ice melting before a bonfire is kind of what you expect, but not like this. What is it going to become?

[bc56]

Bonfire

The block of ice is sculpted into a draconic creature.

Spoiler: image

Show

[Reinholdt]

[The Shrine]

Ilpholin eeps as the dragon makes her wet with an unexpected shower. That was quite an entrance, yeesh. Still, Ilpholin has to stand in awe of the magnificent specimen. She's not afraid to let it show on her face either. Most dragons appreciate the subtle flattery. Then again, Nyneve clearly was a step above most dragons.

"The container we have for it," Ilpholin adds, miming out the approximate size of the faulty dragonscale glove so Nyneve knows roughly how much trouble this will be, "is failing and won't survive through the week's end."

[Recaiden]

"How pretty. Never seen a creature quite like that. From your home?"
The voice comes from just next to Alewer. There's no one there.

[bc56]

Bonfire

"Pretty was not my intent. It is a symbol of destiny lost and duty failed, both mine. It is called the Kanohi Dragon." Alewer doesn't even look up at the voice, he's so intent on the statue.

[Recaiden]

That's pretty sad. The bonfire is the place for such grim thoughts, of course, but the voice has little to say in response.
"You aren't giving up." Kind of a question, kind of an order.

[bc56]

Bonfire

"I wish I could be alongside my brothers and sisters, doing battle against that thing, but destiny brought me here instead." As Alewer speaks, the chill in the air around him intensifies, an unconscious extension of his power.

[Recaiden]

Brr. Is it cold in here? Cold, even next to the fire? That's ridiculous.
Arkangel rises to their feet and shifts around, trying to find a warmer place to rest.

"Mustn't destiny have sent you here for a reason?"

[bc56]

Bonfire

"Probably, but I don't know what it would be." The cold begins to abate.

[Recaiden]

"Destiny will show you when you need to know, correct?"

Arkangel finds a space right by the fire, sufficiently far from everyone, and flops back down.

[bc56]

Bonfire

"Probably." Alewer finally looks up at the voice. When he doesn't see anyone there, he is surprised. "Who are you? Why don't you show yourself?"

[Recaiden]

"'Arkangel'. Why do you need to see me?" the voice taunts.

[bc56]

Bonfire

"Because those who choose to remain hidden rarely have the best interests of others in mind." Alewer sweeps a hand through the space from which the voice comes and looks for any unusual shadows nearby that could be cast by an invisible person.

[Recaiden]

The space is empty when his hand passes through it, and the only shadows around are his own, cast by the fire.

The voice has nothing more to say.

[bc56]

Bonfire

"So you're not actually there? That's a neat trick. That why you can't be seen?" Alewer sits back down.

[Recaiden]

The voice has nothing more to say. But Alewer happens to be correct that they're not actually there.

After a few minutes the other figure at the bonfire stands, fires up their wings, and flies off towards the village.

[bc56]

Bonfire

Alewer gets up and looks around for someone else to talk to.

[Shadowcaller]

[Bonfire]

"You always gain something, even from failures. Indeed, failures can provide more learning that successes do. Regardless, we do need to find a new direction to take." The scholar observes.

[Morty]

[Bonfire]

"We could poke around some more famous dead people, but I figure I've had enough for now," Thariza says. "Is there something you'd like to find? That could use the help of someone big, tough and with weird magic she doesn't really get?"

[Shadowcaller]

[Bonfire]

The scholar considers. "There is a town a few days travel away from here called Shadevale that has been on my to-visit list for a while. It's a part of my ongoing research of seaside but considering the dangers of the sea, I could use some help there. The place is supposedly run by a 'wraith dragon', which is a type of dragon I never encountered, or heard about, before. Therefore, I need to investigate if it truly exist."

[Morty]

[Bonfire]

"A wraith dragon? As if regular ones weren't scary enough," Thariza says, her voice trembling. She also shudders visibly when Ambrosia mentions a "wraith dragon". "I'm not much of a sailor, but sure. I can help you."

Alewer could run into the scholar and the Charr, possibly.