Flying over the Abode of War monastery and valley, I checked for nearby centaur herds. There was one right there, taking the trials. I circled around the valley and started my descent. Feeling whimsical, I took my spear and held it with the tip as far down as it would go, then activated my horn light. Since the spear worked with these perks, the people down there on the ground got a treat of a shining flying centaur coming down at them.
I was showing off. And enjoying it. You know, so shock and awe. Until the arrows and spells started to fly my way from the market section of the valley. Putting up so shields, I tanked through them and landed at the gates of the Abode.
An orc and centaur priests were the guards this ti. They saluted as I approached. "[Heritor]! Welco to the Abode of War! Queltphion warned us of your arrival. We'll call the high priest and priestess Galatea."
They led to the front courtyard. I could hear the sound of hooves skidding in the sand and wood bashing on wood as the centaur children shouted.
"Surrender your gold, you filthy human!"
"Never! I must sacrifice it to my dark gods!"
"Get out of here, you savage! The dark god will blanket this whole plains in... darkness!"
"Yeah! Darkness!"
"To , centaurs! Raid them!"
More bashing, more whinnying, and then a lot of grunts and screams of pain.
An adult woman said, "Hey, hey! Humans are weaklings. You took five hits on your chest, you are dead. Don't cheat!"
That was so nostalgic.
"I see you are reminiscing of old tis, [Heritor]," Galatea's voice broke my reverie. "Magnificent wings. Truly worthy of a [Queen]," she added in a whisper.
She looked exactly the sa as a few years ago. Not a single new wrinkle that I could rember. Behind her the ogre priest and another I've never seen, a seven-foot-tall human-looking person.
"Priestess," I approached and hugged her. Just to make a show of it, I extended my wings and covered her back and back with my feathers.
Then I brought them back and extended them up against one another before folding them against my sides again. I had a ridiculously long wingspan.
"I see you are enjoying the gifts of your heritage," She comnted with a smirk. Then she leaned next to my hear as if to hug again and said, "I was afraid you'd take Zacheia's advice and leave the plains after the ships."
My body beca stiff. Was the priest of Zacheia trying to bamboozle out of my heritage? Was that why the goddess offered to help put on the ships? Could I trust either of the priests? Well, Queltphion never led astray. Maybe there's more to it than what I can perceive but let it be a wake-up call. I shouldn't put too much trust in the Gods and travel my own path.
That when I was intending on entering business transactions with three of them very soon. But one thing at a ti. Now, I needed to get so information on the heritage and priests to take over the temple I had to build for the quest.
Galatea took by the arm and pointed at the too-tall man, "Let introduce you to--"
"MOM! THE PRETTY WHITE LADY HAS WINGS AND A HORN! IS SHE A MONSTER?!?" A girl's voice squealed.
Just like a broken dam, the courtyard suddenly flooded with the foals playing in the training area, followed by their caretakers. They sward us and surrounded , rubbing my fur and feathers with their hands.
"Are you a mutant?"
"Where did you get your wings?"
"Is that a spear in your head! Cool!"
"What's your herd, lady?"
"Marry !"
"I saw her flying up in the sky!"
"Make your horn shine again!"
And so on.
The adults ca and dragged the children away from . The big man-priest stared at us and seed pretty annoyed I wasn't giving his angry mood any of my attention. They threw so apologies our way before they dragged the children back to the training area. More like a barbarian's playpen, now that I thought of it. Every ti I co here, that area is occupied by the children of the clans that co for the trials.
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Speaking of which, I could hear the wood clacking, the centaurs cheering and drumming on the stone floor of the bleachers with their hooves. From the arena side ca a familiar and nostalgic sll that only appeared when lots of centaurs that hadn't bathed in weeks gathered together for physical exertion.
Galatea finally managed to make the introductions, "[Heritor] Snowdrop, let introduce you to Warmaster Preponcius, the high priest of the Abode of War."
"Father," I nodded at him. I t Galatea's eyes and asked her ntally,
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