Chapter 1 - No Silent Secret

Scylax nods at Sarlyn. "That sounds wise, and you know the gods better than I. We shall do as you say, and take them to Arethos."

Kalstios is still a bit hesitant, but he agrees for now to go to the temple of Arethos. The experience of being a god fearing creature is new to him and not very pleasant

Astraea pats Kalstios on the shoulder - or tries to at any rate, hits more around the elbow region.

"The gods are totally fickle, Kalstios. You can try to live your life in strict accordance to the rules, but the earth is still going to quake and storms are still gonna blow. I'm not saying you should try to break the rules, but every ounce of energy you spend tiptoeing around the rules is one less ounce you spend on being glorious.

Besides, you already forsook the god of slaughter, I mean DUDE that must've taken some bronze cajones! If any deity is gonna blast you to bits, it's gonna be the Mogis."

You make your way to the region of the city near the waterfront, which takes a bit of walking. The streets are soon filled with lamplighters, and an orange glow fills the streets.



You soon come up on the Temple of Silence, devoted to Athreos. At first glance, it resembles a rotting cathedral, but you soon realize that the "rot" is actually part of the intentional architectural design. The tall pillars are only designed to appear falling apart. Several torches stand at the bottom and top of a tall staircase leading to double doors. To Sarlyn, this reminds you of home. To everyone else, this place feels like death and the grave.

You make your way up the stairs and through the large, wooden doors. Once inside, you are met with a large open chamber that is dimly lit. Near the doorway is a large desk. A dark-skinned human woman sits there, reviewing a large leather bound tome. When you enter, she looks up, and then closes the book. "Good evening. How can I help you?"

Kalstios considers Astraea's words, "Mogis is a warrior, I am a warrior, I like my odds with him...but what kind of man would I be if I turned my back on Thassa after she saved my life? My life is her life now..."

Walking into the temple, his uncertainty spiral into new heights. "These are the priests that we're seeking help from?"

'Good Evening' Sarlyn nods her head. 'I am a fellow servant of Arethos. We encountered and defeated some returned on our way here' She gestures towards whoever is holding the masks. They were acting strangely. Two were fighting another. We wondered if you had more knowledge into the infighting?

The woman's face lights up when she sees Sarlyn. "Well I'll be. We don't get too many of the Lethe around here. How very nice to meet you." She looks you up and down. She then straightens herself out. "My apologies, where are my manners. I'm Nanrella Mind, and I'm one of the scholars of Athreos here in Meletis."

She looks at the masks, and her brow furrows. "Returned fighting each other. Hmm...that's not unheard of." She holds out her hand, asking to see them. "May I?"

Kalstios hesitates and the cautiously hand over the mask from the dead rider. He mumbles a silent, clumsy prayer to Thassa. "Oh Thassa, you great sea goddess, please don't...err...strike me dead".

Nanrella takes the masks and inspects them.

She smiles at Kalistios. "Don't worry, big guy, Thassa and Athreos both take issue with Phenax's...mischief." She looks up after looking over Varyas's mask. "Did you notice this etching here? It look like some sort of cypher." She traces her fingers over the etching for several seconds, then stops. "Wait...Khea?" She looks up at you. "Where did you say you found this? Why would Khea's name be on this mask?" She looks at the group, and realizes the lot of you may be from out of town.

"Khea is a local sage here in Meletis. Have you never heard of her?" She looks over the other two masks, notices they don't share the same etching, and places them on the desk behind her. She holds Varyas's mask out, handing it back to Kalistios. "If Khea is involved in some way, I feel that she'll want to be informed." She turns back to the other masks. "I have no idea how to read that, but Khea might be able to decode it. As for these other two...I'd only be speculating."

Kalstios smiles back uncertainly, "If you say so lady.... He observes her as she studies the masks, upon hearing that Khea is a person in town, he smiles relieved. "So...she's not connected to another god then? PERFECT! LET'S GO! Thank you!". He starts to march out of the temple in a brisk walking tempo, clearly happy to escape without angering his deity. He suddenly stops and sheepishly walks back, "Erm, and where can we find this Khea?".

Nanrella smiles. "I recognize that look, friend. The life of devotion can be...confusing. I myself have found that the gods can be fickle and difficult to pin down." She waves you back, pushing herself up onto the desk and sitting on it. "You are unlikely to convince Khea to speak with you tonight. You've been on the road. Won't you come in and rest a moment?"

At first blush, Nanrella was dignified and formal, but you quickly sense a level of matriarchal empathy in her eyes. "I personally found Athreos to be my home. A singular focus to guide those who find themselves between worlds is comforting. Thassa in particular seems to look down on the other gods. However, even she should be able to understand we mortals' need to work together toward common goals. I think she often plays the long game."

Kalstios sways a bit on the spot, undecided as to what he ought to do, finally the weariness of his journey wins the battle and he nods, "Thank you miss, I guess a short rest won’t hurt anyone. Thank you for your hospitality". He looks around as he thinks about something to say, "So...nice temple you got here...what can you tell us about Khea?"

"Khea is a bit of an enigma, honestly. She's entirely refused to be a part of the usual beurocracy of Meletis, instead desiring to pursue her own studies. She's one of the most respected experts in the city on the history of the Gods, honestly, and I know it pisses off the big wigs that she won't join them."

Scylax doesn't know exactly what "bureaucracy" means, but he gets the general idea.

"How foolish," he snorts. "Scholars should have peace to pursue their studies, not pressure to get involved in business or politics. These Big Wigs of yours should heed the wisdom of experts when it is offered, and otherwise leave them alone."

Finding the place altogether creepy and unnatural, Astraea avoids the spotlight. While Nanrella is explaining the masks, Astraea tries to angle herself in a non-conspicuous sort of way to see what the leather-bound tome on her desk is.

After a bit more conversation, Nanrella smiles. "Well, listen, I'm going to finish up my work here. If you're new in town, I would suggest the Prancing Pegasus for a place to rest for the night." She points at Sara. "They even have accommodations especially made up for centaurs, which I hear are some of the best in the city for the meager price."

She takes the two remaining Returned masks. "If you're in the market to sell these, we have a policy to purchase them for 50 gold each. Keeps them off the streets and out of the hands of troublemakers."

"Prancing Pegasus? Now that sounds like a jolly places for a pint and a pillow. Thanks lady!" she says as she counts the gold coins.