Flaming Bronze
The festivities had been going on for a few days already. Sheep and goats had been offered aplenty on the altar, the meat going to the people while the fat and bones went to the gods, as was the custom. A few barrels of wine had been gutted for the occasion, bolstered by a few more barrels of the fruit wine bought from the Terramare. It was a far cry from the great festivals of Orchomenos, yet by the standards of Hyphyria, it was a grand affair. The craftsmen had outdone themselves, producing many a wooden statue and charm to decorate the humble temple of Hephaestus. They would all be burned when the festival concluded, their beauty only glimpsed for these few days before cast into the flames to honor the the great smith.
But the four gathered before the altar now were in a far more somber mood than the music and merry sounds from outside the hall. Argurios carefully held the damaged spear that still gave off this acrid smell of burned tin. To his left stood Semni, looking slightly apprehensive of the whole ordeal. The Forge Father was not her god after all, and it was only good sense to be apprehensive of standing in the presence of the divine, yet she had insisted to be here for some reason that she hadn't shared with anyone. To call upon the gods so blatantly as they planned today was a mixture of foolhardiness and bravery, even when calling upon a even tempered deity like Hephaestus. As a result, Isidoros, who stood on the right of the group, walked stiff as a plank to the altar. His nerves were only slowly adjusting to holding court in the palace and standing face to face with a god was another thing altogether. Behind them, the high priest of Hephaestus brought up the rear, but he was not truly part of the procession. His task had been to organize the festival in hopes of putting the Great Smith in a good mood.
The altar itself was shaped like an anvil, carved from stone, and was a keepsake from Orchomenos. So were the two bronze braziers flanking it. The statue behind it, though, had been forged in Hyphyria, made of bronze scrounged up from here and there, layered over a wooden statue of a tall man that stood slightly hunched over. In his right clasped a smith's hammer, and in his left a pair of tongs. After a long moment of contemplation, Argurios took the last few steps towards it, the other two following behind. Carefully he placed the spear on the altar, not daring to touch the vile substance clinging to its tip, and indeed when it briefly touched the stone of the altar, even the rock seemed to sizzle and burn at the touch, leaving a scorch mark on the granite.
Then he bowed his head in a for him rare showing of humility and took a step back. "Oh great Hephaestus, Father of Forges, Teacher of Smiths. I, Argurios Alexis of Hyphyria, call upon you to request your aid. A terrible monster threatens this city. I claimed its blood in combat, but the vileness that spilled forth proved to much for the humble work of mortals. Its claws were rending bronze as if it was cloth, and no smith born to man could conceive of an armor that would have endured its wrath. Thus I ask you, god of smiths and smith of gods, to grant me the arms needed to defend this city."
For a long moment, nothing happened. The sounds of the festival seemed dim and far away to all within the temple, only the thumping of their hearts measuring the passage of time as they waited for something to occur. Argurios raised his head again after a while, thinking his prayer to have been in vain, but just then the braziers along the altar began to sway and rattle. Before anyone could have reacted, they both toppled towards the statue, setting it and the wooden floor alight. Yet the flames did not spread, instead crawling up the bronze-plated statue. The metal began to warp and twist, glowing red as if it had just left the forge.
The heat radiating of the statue became sweltering, and Argurios nearly took another step back as sweat welled from his skin, turning scalding hot as it covered him from head to toe. The flames crawled up the full length of the statue, engulfing it completely and finally, it's eyes opened. Heat beyond heat radiated from its gaze, and no one present could even look at the blazing orbs of purest flame. Then the mouth opened too, spewing forth a torrent of blazing embers and a voice that sounded like a thousand bellows and a thousand hammers striking metal. The words were not so much heard as felt by all present.
You are brave, Argurios Alexis, to ask so brazenly for my boons. In a temple wrought from wood instead of proper stone no less.
They all had feared to hear such words. The temple was not proper to honor the Father of Forges, wrought from left-over wood, and its treasures humble. But before the fear could take root in the mortals' hearts, the blazing statue spoke on.
I will not be wroth about these things. Young and weak Hyphyria still is, and it would be ill befitting of me to rage against those who have given me what little they could offer. With these words, the God of Forges raised the tongs and touched them upon the shaft of the spear. Immediately the wood blackened and turned to ash, leaving just the mangled tip that were carefully grasped by the red hot tongs. He raised the tip to inspect it, even running his finger through the malignant mass clinging to it, which sizzled and burned at his touch.
A deep corruption has filled this blood. An age of rage and pain has turned it black, and that blackness will consume all it touches.
"Surely, this fell power could never hope to challenge your works though, my lord." The role of sycophant was ill fitting for Argurios, and he swallowed deeply when the searing gaze was turned upon him once more. When no reply came, he began to fear that he had overstepped or offered offense, but neither did a reprimand follow. The statue just studied him with calculation, the violent and unruly flames hiding the sharp and calculating mind behind.
That is no small boon you are asking for, yet not one I am disinclined to grant. For a price, though. Slowly, he put down the tip of the spear upon the altar again before looking to Semni.
You know what I will ask, don't you? He has sent you dreams to prepare you, after all.
Stunned, all in attendance looked over to the Lady of House Alexis who had begun to fidget under the attention. "Indeed, my lord. Culsans has sent me dreams and led me to the knowledge to fulfill your wishes." No one dared to interrupt the scene, and only when the statue waved with the hammer for her to proceed did she speak on. "On a shore of a lake in the north-west, the land is cracked and filled with foul air. A deep heat wells from within the earth, and strange creatures inhabit these lands that no man dares to approach. Here a forge could be raised for you, my lord, though the land would have to be claimed by us first and the monsters inhabiting it cast out. Still, it would take a mighty working of the divine to see the flames kindled, for they are weak and deep below."
With a curt nod, the statue acknowledged her words, then she spoke on. "To the south, the Woodsfolk lives. Their home was once of fire and smoke, but they tamed it, quelled it. It takes them power to keep it subdued, but so are they drawing power from the flames' futile licking at their works. Were they to be cast down, the fire would find its freedom quickly. For many years they have settled there, so long that man only recalls in legend of the time when it was flames that rules their lands. But Culsans was clear to me that their rule is not forever. With spear and blade, they can be cast down. By word and bribery, they could be turned to abandon their homes. And when they are gone a forge be erected in your name, my lord."
The statue smirked for a moment, then broke into a mirthful chuckle that blew embers over the assembled people.
That Culsans seems quite interested in you, woman, for it is rare to see a mortal bestowed with such clear portends. Semni wilted a bit under the attention and praise, but nodded and mumbled a few words of thanks, her voice choked by her nerves. Meanwhile, the burning gaze swept over Argurios and Isidoros again.
Hear my offer then, Argurios Alexis and Isidoros of Hyphyria. A spear you shall receive that will rend even stone apart, never to dull and never to break. Armor I will forge for you that no mortal weapon will ever pierce, beyond even that creature's strength to damage it. In return, though, you will pledge to build me a forge in these lands so that I can work in peace, away from the games and struggles of the gods of Greece.
What do they answer?
[] Accept the deal. Receive gear forged by Hephaestus himself to slay the woman in the mountains, and in return a forge will be erected for the God of Smiths.
[] Make a counter-offer:
-[] Write-In
[] Refuse the deal. You can't even build him a proper temple, so pledging to build a forge worthy of a god would be folly.
AN: Argurios nearly messed this up with a exceptionally poor roll, but the bonus from the sacrifices made and the good relationship to Hephaestus carried the day.
