Chapter 1 - No Silent Secret

"Hello! We found something with your name on it on the road to Meletis!"

You hear a long pause, then the door cracks open slightly, and the smell of lavender wafts outward toward you all. The face of a dark skinned woman emerges from the dark interior, and for a moment, you notice the appearance of glimmering stars where she stands before she emerges into the light. Her hair is black, but the roots appear to glow like amber starlight, and her eyes glow in a similar manner. Her countenance is stoic and confident, and she speaks with a husky baritone voice. "How can I help you? What did you find?"

Kalstios decides that it's best to cut to the chase and shows Khea the mask

Sidenote, this morning, Saya wished you good luck on your journey, and continues to a previously arranged obligation. You all miss her terribly, but figure you'll get over it.

Khea takes the mask from you, turning it over in her hands. "I see." She looks at the four of you, then back at the mask. She widens the doorway, and motions you inside. "Please, come in."

As you enter, you find a large sitting room, with drying lavender hanging through much of the room. There are several tables, with books and scrolls scattered across them, some in languages you recognize and many more that you do not. The light is dim, and he gestures to you to find a place to sit. As the four of you sit, she sits in a large chair, looking over each of you, and ponders for a moment before grinning slightly. "A leonin, a satyr, a triton, and a minotaur. The gods have their hand in bringing you together, that much is sure."

Her body now draped in shadow, you clearly notice the starry shadows that cover her entire body. It is as though the very essence of Nyx, the night sky and realm of the Gods, has been infused into her very being. She scans the mask for a moment, then looks back up at you. "Where did you find this mask? Tell me everything you know about it."

Kalstios leans back and recounts the events of the previous day, "So we were walking along the road, minding our own business, when this horse came riding with a corpse. He's the one with the mask. Then these other two guys came along and we killed them because they were being real assholes.", he gestures towards Sarlyn, "This beautiful one called them Returned. Then I grabbed the mask, read "Silence the heretic Varyas. His secrets must remain dead." and everything went all grey and the etchings in the masks lit up...and then we decided to come here...basically...". He rocks a little awkwardly in the chair observing the strange woman.

Sarlyn nods along with Kalesios's story. 'The one wearing this mask was also returned, but he definitely seemed to be fleeing from the other two, which is not something I have heard of.' She hesitates, wondering how much needed to be shared.

'The gods seem to have some interest in what happened, or at least... Arethos saved me from death, and I do not know if it is related or not.'

She listens intently, reading your faces. "Varyas? Really? That ill-tempered rabble-rouser..." She looks up at you, smiles faintly, and pours you each a cup of lavender purple tea. "Varyas was an oracle devoted to Phenax who died mysteriously a few years ago. He was...well, he was a pain in my ass, frankly. Ever since I roasted his play, The Satyr's Half-Horn, he seemed to be out to get back at me." She placed the mask down, took a sip of tea, and then returned to the mask. "I wouldn't be surprised was petty enough to harass me even in death."

She stood up and walked to a table covered in several scrolls. "Then again, if Varyas had secrets, maybe there's more to it than that." She places the mask on the table and begins flipping through scrolls, clearly lost in thought, then looks over at you. "Go on, drink up, you'll find the taste quite pleasant."

Astraea is distracted, but at the words "drink up" snap her back to reality. "Don't mind if I do!" She guzzles the drink but then recoils she realizes it's tea

"If this turns out to be nothing more than a spurned playwright's petty vengeance from beyond the grave, that would be rather anticlimactic. That surely wouldn't be sufficient to be branded an heretic by the forces of the Underworld, though?"

Scylax takes a sip of his tea and muses, "Imagine how frustrating his life must have been as an oracle of Phenax. Every vision, another misleading half-truth or cruel trick. And nobody would trust any foresight you gave them anyway, unless they were crazy. A wretched existence indeed."

Kalstios looks skeptically at the tea, he politely puts the cup back down untouched. "Did anyone in the polis know Varyas well? Maybe someone can help us uncover what he might have been hiding?"

Khea is half listening as she consults the mask, then scrolls, then back to the mask. "Varyas always claimed to be in on the ruse. As an oracle of Phenax specifically, he took part in the subterfuge as much as anyone could." She stopped, beginning to read the mask again. "Well shit...this cipher is incomplete. Hang on, this is going to take a minute."

She turns toward the back room of her cottage, calling out. "Kyrios, would you please entertain our guests? I need a minute."

You hear a soft thump from the other room, and a small purple hairless cat emerges, it’s fur shimmering like starlight in a similar way to Khea. The cat considers you all, meows gently to Khea, then hops up onto Astraea’s lap, beginning to purr. After a moment, it looks up at you all and, in a very dignified and gentlemanly accent, says "Pleasant morning, isn’t it?"

"Wow, a talking cat! Yes, it is a pleasant meowning! WhatsyournameimAstraeanicetomeetyou!"

'Was he trying to trick the returned? But I fail to see the purpose'

As Kyrios emerges she watches the cat suspiciously. As it speaks she just nods, assuming that all cats from the land spoke if he could. 'Indeed it is'.

Astrea's energetic response tells otherwise

For a moment, Kyrios is taken aback by Astraea’s sudden enthusiasm, then relaxes and nuzzles in. "So are you new here to Meletis? What are you, heroes of the gods or something?" He looks around. "I do say, there’s no question."

Khea grunts from the corner of the room in agreement.

"Quite right, my dear." He looks down at Astraea’s wrist. "What’s this, my dear? A mark of Nylea. Very rare indeed. You have been blessed by her, it seems."

Kalstios eyes the talking cat and then the tea, "I could’ve sworn I didn’t drink any of this..."

Astraea takes her wrist in her other hand, concealing the symbol.

"Chosen? Just kinda. More like freelance contractor. These things come and go with their divine whims. Probably be gone by next week."

Something about the way Astrea's cheeks turn ever so slightly red tells an astute observer that she hopes otherwise.

"Your query also begs the question: What are you and Khea? Not ordinary mortals, it seems."

The cat seems to almost smile at you, Astraea. "Ah, of course, the first step on the Hero's Journey is always a denial of the call. Do not worry child. Once you cross the threshold, you will see what the Gods have in store for you."

At you question, Scylax, the cat rests its head on Astraea's arm. "We are what is known as Nyxborn, a consequence or manifestation of the gods interacting within the world." His tail flicks back and forth, the starlight within its shadows glimmering. "As far as Khea has been able to tell, she came into being as a way of creating balance when Meletis organized their structured academia and government. There must needs be balance in all things, and she believes that is why she sprung into existence.

"As for myself, well, I'm here because the life of a nyxborn sage can be...well let's just say I'm here to keep her company."

Khea grabs the mask and sits back down across from the rest of you.

"Hid from eyes of mortals and gods
Lies wither in Orestes’s rot."

She looks up at you all. "Okay, so this text isn't complete in its current form. It's intentionally vague and the cypher is incomplete. Letters have been removed, and its impossible decode in its entirety." She stops for a second, then stands up and moves back to her scrolls. "Orestes's rot..."

'The gods do not choose lightly Astrea' As she speak the Triton places a hand over where she was skewered. 'It is a honour and a cause to live up to with all of ones devotion.'

'I served Atheros willingly, with no expectation or recognition. Now I have it, my faith is only stronger.'