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Jathalos opened his eyes, he tried to sit up but his head hurt to much. The
room was very dark, but even here in this darkness, Jathalos' elven sight
worked just fine. The room he was in was roughly hewn out of solid granite,
Jathalos couldn't help but think about the sheer power required to do such a
thing. Even a small army of dwarven miners would take months to even create
a room like this.
He felt a hand on his head, "don't move, you'll just make it worse", the
kind features of the young priestess moved intoe his field of vision. What
was her name again? Hiran? Hyrana?
The priestess began to pray in a low and humble tone of voice, and Jathalos
could feel the pain in his head slowly easing. He sat up.
Now that he could see the entire extent of the room Jathalos was even more
impressed. It spanded at least 30 feet in each direction, and the roof was
more than 9 feet above them.
Just then, he heard a noise behind him. He turned his head and saw a heavy,
reinforced, oak door opening. There was a light soucre on the other side,
but most of the light was blocked out by the massive form standing in the
doorway.
The minotaur was at least 8 feet tall, large even for it's species. It spoke
out in a guttural, common. "Please, come with me" then it turned and left
the door open.
Jathalos easily rose to his feet and helped the priestess get up as well. He
could see several other minotaurs beyond the door.
Their guards took them to a huge chamer, at least 200 feet in diameter,
closely packed with minotaurs. Most of them silent, as in a form of humility
towards something in the center of the chamber.
Jathalos and the priestess were lead to the center of the chamber, there
upon a huge throne of black marble, was yet another minotaur. He looked
ancient beyond age, and a very tired look filled his gaze.
"You have come here" he said, in a very well-articulated speach that showed
at least some surface experience, "to take from us the crown of Tiras, have
you not?". The eyes of the minotaur hardened as it spoke. Jathalos noticed
the small silver Tiara adorning its large bovine head.
"No" he said, bowing politely "we were told that the crown lay wasting, in a
labyrinth long thought deserted". The minotaur king did not look very
convincing.
The king was about to speak, when a small, almost shadowlike form stepped
unto the dais. It was about the size of a man, but the dark robes flowing
about it made it impossible for Jathalos to determine its species. It bowed
over and whispered something in the kings ear.
"Are you sure?" he said, "this one doesn't look like a great hero to me".
The dark figure whispered something again, the king nodded. "Yes" he said
thoughtfully, "you might be right".
The shadowy form disappeared into the sea of minotaurs.
The king turned its head towards Jathalos, "fate has brought you here, brave
fool" he said "for it is fortold" he continued, with an almost chanting tone
"that a great hero shall come from the surface, a hero with siler on his
head, but wearing no crown. A hero with the sea in his eyes, but not the
color blue. A hero nimble and gracefull, to succeed where power has failed.
This hero shall break the curse and lead the poeple of Val Gyafa, to the
surface to be free once more" As the minotaur king spoke the last line,
there was a roar of agreement from the crownd, wich had, until now been
deathly silent.
"How in all of Barak's realms did I get myself into this?" Jathalos thought.
This was so typically his luck. His platin, almost metallic blond and his
deep violet eyes had been mistaken for the qualities of some legend who
wouldsave the minotaurs. The fact that he was an elf automatically filled
out the rest of the prophecy.
"Very well" Jathalos spoke out, as loudly as he dared, "what is this hero
supposed to do that not even the great people of Val Gyfa has been able to
accomplish?" Jathalos prayed within himself, prayed to Phex that he would
get a chance to get out of here and away from these beasts.
"It is said" The king explained "that the elder gods created the first
minotaur, Val Gyfa. And that he made himself a mighty kingdom on the
surface. The other races, however, jealous of his power, conspired to curse
him and his people to forever hide underground and shun the light of day.
Only when the rainbow's drops, would fall in the basin of the fallen, would
we once again be able to walk the surface." The king poked at Jathalos'
chest with a gnarled and wizened finger "that is why you have been brought
here".
Jathalos, now intrigued by the fascinating story, asked warily "But what IS
the rainbow's drps? and where lies this fountain of the fallen?".
"That is for you to find out" the minotaur king sighed "unfortunately, all
records of the matter was destroyed in the great fire 250 years ago. All
that remains is legend" The minotaur king looked up, as if given new vigour
"now go my young champion. Be off to fulfill your destiny".
As Jathalos stepped out of the tunnel he looked meaningfully at Haran (or
was that Hirena?) "don't even say it! I'm not going off on some foolish
quest to save a pack of monsters"
"A monster is no more a monster then the one who makes it to be so" Was the
only reply......
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