Atreía Tis Gnósis
You make your plans in secret, commanding a few trustworthy persons to keep your absence from being discovered. In the dead of night, the shattered moon casts enough light for you to navigate to a pre-paid merchant coach.
The trip is silent, and unnerving. You turn over the invitation in your mind for several hours, contemplating the urge to accept. Were you mad? A fool? Driven by otherworldly direction? The coach judders as it moves from unkempt dirt roads to the managed cobblestones most villages like to keep. Your musing is interrupted, as a sense of anticipation fills your stomach.
You step out, face still partially covered, and are surprised to see that someone is already waiting for you. "Please, follow me, miss," he says with a bow.
You are still too caught up in the mystery, the intrigue of it all, to question anything. You follow as wordlessly as you are led, to a well-to-do looking merchant's home. Your guide offers an insignia of bronze to the men at the gates, and gestures for you to follow...
As you pass through the front gate and into the house proper, it is as though you've passed through a portal to a much different place. Artifacts of the gods, some long thought lost, line the walls. Ancient Scrolls and weapons, portraits of such perfection as to be windows into a moment of the past, even a piece of masonry that, according to it's plaque, was once part of the Mistral Academy Headmaster's office. You stare, dumbfounded at the sheer
weight of the history, lore, and
power displayed as trophies before you, feeling at once much smaller and humbler than your station.
A hand strikes your back playfully, breaking you out of your reverie with an undignified hop and "eep!" You turn, taking in the sight of Phithos, garbed in clothes reminiscent of the times of the Kingdoms. He grins wolfishly at you, gesturing again to the artifacts scattered about the main hall. "Impressed, Megara? This is our local collection, for the more regular meetings."
You swallow, nervousness, or perhaps excitement, building in you. "There's more?" you ask in a whisper.
Phithos smiles and leans in conspiratorially. "Only to the initiated," he says, and the offer is clear. "Would you care to join us at the conference tables?"
Phithos discovered as a Secret Progenitorist!
[] Join The Seekers of the Gods as an Initiate
[] Refuse, you shouldn't get caught up in groups like these, that move a little too close to blasphemy even for a convert like you...
AN: Took a while, sad. Got to do the secret society reveal, happy.