Daemerungslied: Empyrean Shadows

Chapter 6

As dawn breaks, the horizon stretches out before them, revealing the silhouettes of the orc enclave. The structures are a blend of organic curves and sharp angles, crafted from materials that seem to have been drawn from the very earth itself. The sun rises, casting a warm glow on the red-tinted metal and gleaming crystal that adorn the buildings.

The orcs, tall and muscular, with skin tones ranging from earthy browns to the deep red of the sunrise, spot the group approaching and emerge from their dwellings, curious yet wary. They are a formidable sight, armed with advanced weaponry that combines the best of their natural resources with the ancient knowledge of their ancestors.

"I can greet them," Luna tells the others, "but it's important to make a good first impression. Mara, are my hat and pancho still in your inventory?"

Mara nods, her eyes never leaving the orcs. She throws the requested items to her sister, who catches them deftly. With a flourish, Luna dons the hat and straightens the pancho. "Let's go," she says, a hint of excitement in her voice.

The group approaches the enclave, their footsteps echoing off the crystalline streets. The orcs watch them with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. Mortilda steps forward, her war scythe slung over her shoulder, and calls out a greeting in their guttural tongue. The orcs' expressions shift from guarded to surprised.

"You are visitor?" asks one of the orcs, her deep voice resonating with the authority of a chieftain. Her eyes, a piercing emerald, scrutinize the Dark Luminaries. "Rare for humans, dwarf, elf, and... half-oni?" she says, eyeing Platinum with curiosity.

"We come in peace, seeking an audience with your leader," Mortilda says, her voice firm and respectful. "We have business regarding the seal that lies within your lands."

The orc chieftain nods slowly. "Seal of dragon," she murmurs, her expression turning serious. "You speak truth. But peace, it does not come easy. We have our own battles to fight."

"We understand," Mortilda replies, her hand still outstretched in greeting. "Our quest is not to bring war, but to restore balance. We seek to prevent the Ars Goetia from wreaking havoc across Vyranthos."

Luna spots an impromptu market bustling with orcs and various creatures trading goods. "Perhaps we can find some supplies here," she suggests. "And maybe some information on the seal's location."

The chieftain grunts in acknowledgment. "Knowledge is valuable, as are alliances." She points to a massive, crystal-studded gate that leads into the heart of the enclave. "You may enter, but beware. The Ars Goetia are not the only threats in our lands."

"She's right," Mortilda says, checking the encyclopedia application on her palmtop. "These lands are rumored to hide other dangers." The chieftain nods gravely, confirming the paladin's words.

The Dark Luminaries step through the gate, the sound of their boots and sandals crunching on the crystal-studded ground. The market is a cacophony of sights and sounds, with orcs haggling over goods that range from gleaming techno-magic artifacts to mundane but well-crafted weapons and armor. The smell of roasting meat and exotic spices fills the air, mingling with the metallic scent of the market's many wares

"We should probably buy some armour and have our weapons repaired while we're here," Octavia suggests, her eyes scanning the stalls for a blacksmith. "We've had a rough journey so far."

"Not as rough as you might hope," Mortilda says, nudging Octavia playfully. "But I do agree, it's wise to prepare."

They navigate through the market, drawing curious stares and whispers from the orcs and other creatures. A burly blacksmith with a scar that runs from her eye to her chin looks up from her anvil as they approach. She sizes them up, her grip tightening around the hammer.