A lone wanderer traversed the labyrinthine landscape of the Torans Mountains. He appeared at first glance a man, but upon further inspection it was clear that no ordinary man was he, for his head took the form of a turtle rather than that of a human. A blue-greenish reptilian head, littered with green flecks, and eyes that seemed unnaturally blue. He, it, searched endlessly, wandering seemingly at random. He would stop occasionally, as if annoyed, and look at the sky as if for guidance. Finally, at long last, he found what appeared to be a home.
The sun had just begun to rise, so it was difficult to make out what the building may be. The morning sun reflected off of the roofing in such a way that the sky seemed to be pierced by a perfect beam of light, parting the sky and repelling the darkness that had previously gripped the night.
Alone this creature was not, for within him was several other inhuman intellects, each distinct and each alive. They spoke to each other, mind to mind rather than face to face:
What do you suppose this place may be?
Does it matter, fool? Take us inside, and let those within know whom they are dealing with.
You mustn’t be so reckless, Bartgeier. That is the kind of thinking that will end us all, and I know that isn’t what you want.
Do you really believe any mortal could pose a threat to us? Have you really become that disillusioned? We are Gods, and the mortal realm is ours to claim, so let us claim it.
Yes! If we take no initiative than we shall perish! Is that really what you want, Archelon? Is that your plan? Take us all down just to save your puny humans? Bah!
Quiet! I can’t stand any more of this bickering! Let’s just get on with it.
A shake of the head and the man-creature was once again moving. He started slowly for the building, which appeared a rather plain one story house. There were several windows that allowed a slight breeze to enter the single room of the building. Littering the walls were small lanterns, lighting the room suitably. Along each wall were metal devices that held a massive amount of weapons, ranging from staves to large axes, though they were all made of wood and therefore were likely to be ineffective in an actual fight. The floor was a hard wood, beautifully gleaming from candlelight.
An arena! This is what I’ve been craving; allow me to annihilate all those that enter the ring, allow me to gather a legion by force! This is how it begins, a small step towards becoming powerful again.
I don’t think that this is an arena; where is the seating? Don’t be so quick. Who are you trying to impress, hmm? I find that it would serve us better to begin our journey on the right foot. Let us find a real city, somewhere with some girth, to lay our seed. Perhaps someone here will be able to assist us.
A turn of the head and Archelon spotted a figure; a dark spot against the light. He was equipped with armor that concealed some of his features and highlighted others. Dark armor highlighted with crimson, a tribute no doubt to that oh so valuable liquid held within near all things mortal. His skin melded almost completely with his armor, a deep black that seemed to demand light to absorb.
“Allow me to introduce myself, friend. My name is Archelon, and I don’t suppose you could help a fellow out, could you? I seem to have found myself lost within this wretched mountain range, and I need desperately to find my way to a town or city of sorts. Could you point me in the right direction?”
As he spoke he slowly approached the man, noticing that he wasn’t a man at all but something else altogether. At first it seemed the man just had dark skin, but as they drew nearer the Gods noticed that he had intensely silver hair, a trait that was almost never found in any of the humans they had ever seen.
Interesting. What manner of creature is this, an imitation of man, or something completely different?
In time I may ask, but for now I must keep my priorities straight. With all of these weapons lying about there is no knowing what despicable acts are held in this place.
Archelon stopped walking towards the not-man and held his ground about thirty paces away. He leaned against his walking staff gently, casually, as to not stir an outwardly aggressive response from this creature. He knew that if it did come down to it, Bartgeier would not hesitate to destroy this creature.
He hoped it didn’t have to end that way.
Bartgeier hoped that it did.
(Thanks for the training! I'm not entirely sure whether I should be the one initiating combat or if I can reciprocate. Also, I figure it color coding should be enough indication of thought-dialog, or should I find another way of marking it?)