The Moon in the Well

Raine, who needed no further urging, set out after Andreas doing his best to keep up with the pace set by his companions.

Bishka follows in the rear with her short stumpy legs.

"Great, more weird shit."

Andreas was staring at the old temple trying to not connect the dots between this temple and the chaos cults literal hell hole above.

Even with the exertion, Andreas seemed better than before, his body was filling out. No longer the emaciated slave from the cavern he was flush and full of energy. Looking positively lethal.

Whether or not anyone else agrees with the timing, Verod plops his body in a heap as soon as the misfit bunch comes to a halt. He fears he is going to pass out from exhaustion if he doesn’t take even a ten minute break. He figures it may take the group that long to decide what to do next anyway.

"This must be it...", said Raine, gasping for breath. In spite of his time spent slaving in the mines, his legs and lungs still burned from the day's exertion. He knew that whatever else happened, he couldn't quit now. Still, he tempered his excitement with a measure of caution as he approached the building, keeping one eye and both ears on his surroundings.

Can it be this easy...?

The thought struck him as funny when it crossed his mind and he couldn't keep from laughing at himself. Of all that could be said of the day's events, none of it had been easy.

Better finish the job before you answer that one, he admonished himself silently as he turned his attention to the doorway searching for signs of a hidden threat.

"It's certainly something." Andreas assented and began to look around the entrance of the temple for some useful things. They were very short on supplies. "This seeks a safe enough spot, let's rest here and eat, drink. The whiskey is strong enough to clean ground water, and the food will do us more good now than later."

Taking off his backpack he left it open after grabbing a tin of salted meat. Strolling around searching.

Underfed and Overworked as a slave, not to mention their traumatic and exhausting escape from the mines, Bishka is at the brink of exhaustion. She finds the most level area of rock nearby and sits down heavily. She takes ragged gulps of air to cool off her burning lungs and aching muscles. She lays the pitchfork across her lap closes her eyes, needing a moment of peace. She hears the others have some discussion and begin staking out the place, but she doesn't have the energy to contribute just yet. In time she is sure her strength will come back, get moe meat on her bones. She'll need quite a few hearty meals and restful nights' sleep before that though. Instead, she'll settle for a few moments of motionlessness. She almost hopes they don't find anything as she will resent having to move before she is ready.

"Eat, you need your strength. Master Dwarf, here." Andreas left the makeshift shield with a salt beef tin and a ceramic cup full of water. Openining the bottle of whiskey Andreas poured about two ounces in. "Funny, I remember when my mother made this whiskey. My uncle died in a vat of it. But I suppose that's life." He took a swig from the unstoppered bottle of "Shepherd's Genuine Gael Whisky." His black eyes fixed on Bishka hunkered down. "I was a Rice Farmer..."

Andreas saw no way talking about the past could help the present. He stopped himself.

"Hey never mind that. Everyone needs a friend. Take this shield. We work together we can survive this."

Bishka takes the offerings gratefully. The shield smells like human waste but beggars can't be choosers. The jerky and water taste like a thane's feast after her ordeal.

"I guess all heroes come from humble beginnings, aye?" she smiles. She hasn't had much practice smiling and it comes off very awkward but sincere. "I didn't have many many friends back in Hyeng-zhar. Not many dwarves around and the humans saw me as little more than another tool to help the blacksmith. Not many suitors either, come to think of it." She frowns. What Bishka was blessed with in fortitude was equally deducted from aesthetics. Every proportion of her face was just slightly wrong: eyes a little too small and spaced a smidge too close, nose slightly too pudgy, cheeks too angular, and jaw much too square. She also gives off an aura of formidability that deters most people from approaching in the first place.

"Looks like we'll share that problem though. No offense," she adds. Bishka is not a master of social graces. "What happened to you. If you don't mind me asking, that is. You look slightly...intimidating. Andreas, was it?"

"That's my name."

"Mother always said father had the devil in him." Andreas couldn't help but chuckle, it sounded so ridiculous to say out loud.

"When I was dead, well... I think it's probably more accurate to say Mother had the Devil in her." He made a crude joke and wrinkled his nose in disgust when he thought about it.

He was busy collecting thick strands of grass weaving them around his left hand as he collected them, spinning crude rope when it grew thick enough. He took a swig directly from the bottle and offered it to Bishka. He was incapable of relaxing, disturbed, and agitated.

Pulling the iron tines from the rake, he tied them down to his fingers after wrapping them threaded through his fingers. A crude harvesting tool, without the leverage of the haft it would not hit as hard, but affixed to someone as enormous as Andreas the tines would make an effective punching blade, it could also double as climbing gear.

"Hey let's find something to make a hammer with. Shields good but if you have a maul or mace? Then we're a force."

Raine stood before the doors of the temple, satisfied that there was no immediate threat looming. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves over what might be waiting inside.

"It looks like it'll open. Mind giving me a hand?", he asked Mathias.

Ostarghi eyes the creature, trying to not let its friendly demeanor trick him into lowering his defence. If nothing else, this was at least the first friendly looking thing they've ran into since escaping the mines, minus that room where they found Mathias and the rest, of course.

"Hello there! You a spirit of this place or something? I mean... what is this place anyway?"

Raine watched the amorphous blob take shape within the fountain. Pleasant demeanor notwithstanding, whatever sort of creature it was, he doubted that Noctys had invited it to move into the courtyard of her temple. At present, though, he had no way to evict it so he decided to try to play nice with it for now.

"Good evening," Raine replied politely. "All praise to Noctys, the Goddes of the night. I see the doors to the sanctuary are closed. Has the nightly devotion already begun?", he asked.