The Drowned Moon

Fame and Legends

The hallway leading to the throne room provoked much thought, that is how Arluexor wanted it to be. Some, looking at the paintings, sculptures, and trophies of old times felt inspired, others—intimidated, many thought of the value of these cultural and sometimes literal riches, so did Kantos from underneath their cowl, eyeing pieces that they'd thought to be worth at least a few fortunes, only to be brought back to the real world by yet another hurrying yell from Bruenor "Come, come, come!" the dwarf kept repeating with each step on the stairway he started climbing just now "By Helm's gauntlet, why must you be so fast, Battlehammer?" panted the tiefling, taking a short break, resting against a sculpture of a noble general pointing somewhere far and ages away. "I must be so fast, for the king has summoned me—nay, us, now move, Rem" the dwarf was quick to answer, still not even a sign of shortness of breath in his words "Has he even mentioned what he needs us for?" inquired the wood elf "All I got was that we were called, so what's the rush?" he furthered "He did call us for no specified reason, yes, but he also mentioned it was urgent" explained Kantos "that's why the dwarf is in such a hurry, their race can't take tardiness" they then chuckled. "Can we just get there and have this over with?" the only human among the party asked. "What, you've got errands to run, Max?" Bruenor mocked his colleague, getting to the top of the stairway. Maximilian remained silent for his journey up the stairs, and then scoffed in the direction of the dwarf's forehead "None of your business, dwarf". A while later the rest caught up to them and together they continued moving to the oaken door, behind which the king, and presumably, another mission, awaited.