Quest for the Lyre of Orphaeo

[Breaker]

As fingerling rays of red-gold sunlight permeated the trees Breaker rose to his feet and yawned. He'd had a surprisingly dreamless sleep, for ordinarily his slumber showed him omens or messages from his goddesses. He flexed his shoulders and stretched his arms, sternum popping like a hollow oak. He raised his hands, palms uplifted, and summoned water and air to scour the dust and dirt from his clothing and hair. Within a moment his black shirt and breeches looked clean and pressed, his boots shone as if freshly buffed, and his close-cropped hair appeared freshly washed, neatly framing his scarred face. He bent forward to stretch the muscles in his back and legs and checked his dagger in its boot-sheathe. Everything seemed ready for the start of a great adventure.

"This way," Josh said with a knowing smile and a gesture. Together he and Philomel followed a trail of bruised and flattened foliage until they came across the tera'k where it grazed contentedly on some long grass. With the lyre bearer in the saddle once more, Josh led them west, away from the rising sun, deeper into the great forest. The fox Veridian scampered about his feet at times, popping in and out of the foliage like a ghost.

The dangers of Lindequalmë loomed all around them, and yet Breaker had little trouble leading the strange group safely. They detoured around a crimson tree that hung thick with bloodvines, and squeezed through a maze of boulders lined with fire moss. They trekked past nests of deadly serpents and avoided packs of Dur'Taigen disguised as harmless trees.

Breaker fell into such a rhythm of scanning his surroundings for trouble that he failed to notice a foul stench as they entered an unnatural clearing. He soon spotted the piles of bones though, belonging to everything from small rodents to wolves, and a few haunting human-looking skeletons partially petrified in the loam.

The clearing, it became apparent, was just a place where some giant had lain in some slumber. The flattened area, perhaps fifteen feet in length, was pockmarked with holes left by long vicious spikes, and surrounded by the bones of the giant's victims. A large red oak nearby bore brown tufts of fur and scratch marks where the great beast rubbed its back.

"Be very silent," Josh whispered, lifting a hand, hazel eyes scanning their immediate surroundings, "and move with care, lyre-bearer." Adrenaline spiked in his bloodstream. "It seems we have stumbled into the territory of a Maul."