Chapter 296: Took you long enough
Mason and the others became an even bigger spectacle in the floating city itself. It didn't feel 'hostile', exactly, but it didn't feel welcoming, either.
The ape men didn't notice or care, clearing paths through the crowds just with their size and forward momentum.
"This way," said Wounded Testicles, limping slightly still as he guided them onwards.
"Looks like bloomin' Venice," said Seamus, shaking his head as he walked at Mason's side. "Well. With mutants instead of Italians, course. Venetians? Anyway. Some of the women don't look too bad."
Mason tried ignoring the man altogether, hoping a lack of feedback would encourage him to shut up.
"Never been with an I-talian woman," Seamus added a bridge later. "You think they're all fire and passion? That's what they say. Course a bloke like you probly doesn't have to guess, am I right? Probly been with loads. So enlighten us mere mortals, eh? What's it like?"
Mason just glared, then turned his eyes back to the strange, beautiful buildings and people. Though of course he used the word 'people' loosely.
They could smell cooking and all kinds of other city scents now, the constant drum of voices and animals and the din of city life. Mason was reminded he didn't much like cities, but a piece of him had missed the clutter of civilization. He didn't much care to be in the middle of it, but he liked to know it existed. Somewhere.
Becky was looking around with wide eyes and a beautiful smile. The priest looked about as excited and sweaty as ever. Streak started whining when he smelled cooking meat, tugging slightly when they saw smoke rising. Seamus noticed and chuckled.
"Can't blame him, really. I could go for a bite and a pint, by Christ. Though I guess I don't rightly want to know what meat they might be cooking."
Mason noticed one of the apes glance over and maybe smirk, and Mason gave the Irishman another 'shut the hell up' sort of look and hoped he interpreted it correctly.
Their giant guides took them through several more winding bridges between connecting 'islands', until finally they saw a small, half stone, half wood 'fort' on its own island ahead.
"Let me guess," Mason said with a sigh. "We're going to that castle."
The apes didn't answer. They simply led the group straight on towards it, until an assortment of bird men warriors became obvious all over the structure. Some looked like gargoyles—standing or squatting at various strange posts on the building. They waited on balconies or little platforms and rooftops, their eyes mostly scanning the sky.
What they were looking for or worried about, Mason had no idea. What sort of enemy could actually threaten a place like this from the air? He supposed the obvious answer was ‘other birdmen’.
A few of the winged guards stopped them at the final bridge, and their ape guide gestured at Mason and the others.
"Captain said to bring. To winged prince," the big creature grunted, clearly eager to be finished with his duty. "So we bring. You take now."
The bird guard frowned but gestured them closer. This one was wearing intricate leather armor and carried a long, sturdy looking wooden spear that was probably more like a lance. Mason decided he'd really rather not have the thing jammed into him at full flying speed, so he walked forward to be inspected.
The guard's sharp, golden eyes flicked over all three of the humans, not seeming particularly pleased. He also looked...nervous. On edge.
When Mason noticed this he started thinking about all the other guards and even some of the people in the city he'd seen. He'd sensed something he couldn't quite put his finger on—a kind of restless, nervous energy.
He smelled it, too, he realized, something not so different than fear. Surely they weren't all afraid of a few foreign warriors entering their city. Especially since it was a surprise.
No, Mason decided, it was something else. Something everyone even in a fairly large place like this seemed to know. But what?
"Patron. Miss Rebecca. I'm very pleased to see you."
Mason shook his head and grinned. "And here I pictured you all getting crushed by giant skeletons and then maybe cooked and eaten by cannibals."
Alex grinned and sipped at some kind of drink. "That was yesterday. Today is good."
"They have alcohol," Carl said with a quirked brow. "The drunken bastard has been at it since we got here."
"Not drunk," Alex said, taking another sip. "Not close."
They all exchanged handshakes (Mason) and hugs (Rebecca), then introduced the priest (who said his name was unimportant), before finding various seats around the comfortable looking room.
They soon moved to one side to be alone to talk, which also happened to have some food. There was a huge platter full of various meats and cheeses and fruits, and Mason soon had to set out a bowl for Streak before he smashed his way into the table.
"Now how the hell," he said, physically pulling the wolf to a sit. "Did you get here first, and get so...damnit Streak settle down I'm sure they'll bring more!...comfortable?"
Carl explained that after they'd teleported from the 'crypt', they'd appeared here, literally inside the castle.
"We came walking out of a big, blue swirling portal, right beside this Rishnahi...that's what they call themselves, by the way...wizard. He'd been trying to summon assistance, you see. So they think we're basically god-sent helpers."
"Assistance with what?" Mason asked.
"Oh. They're being hunted by dragons. Well, I don't know if they're really dragons, but you know, flying lizards, breathe acid, or poison or something. They're pretty much dragons."
Mason nodded. That was more like it. The great game rarely disappointed.
"Of course they are," he said. "So we bring the priest. Maybe some kind of side quest. Now we go kill dragons and move on. Makes as much sense as anything. No idea what it had to do with that crypt, but whatever. Maybe the cultists are in charge of the dragons."
"I don't think so, Patron," Phuong said with a frown. Mason just raised a brow and waited, and the old soldier shrugged. "Inside the crypt I saw images of flying men battling creatures in the sky. They were clearly being depicted as the heroes. I don't think that crypt belonged to those priests at all."
Mason nodded, knowing it might be important but not really able to bring himself to care. He mentally swore at Blake again for not being here to take care of this sort of shit. To handle the nerdery. And the puzzles.
"Well, I'm open to anything you guys can figure out. My only real plan is keep us alive. But I don't think the people in this city are our enemies. The whole 'cannibalism' seems bad but other than that I don't think they..."
"Cannibals?" Carl frowned. "I think they hardly even eat meat. Took them hours to find us the stuff on the platters, and it's all salted and kind of old."
Mason blinked, then laughed as he thought of that ape's grin. It wouldn't be the first time some group of people fostered a reputation more terrifying than they deserved.
He wondered if they’d intended to let the priest live all along—to run off and warn everyone of the near-death experience with cannibals in the jungle.
"Well whatever they are, let's hope our priest friend actually 'heals' their prince. Because I don't think it's going to go well for us if he fucks it up."
They all looked over at the mysterious 'prophet' sitting on a couch and clutching his religious symbol. He noticed the increased attention and smiled and nodded as he looked over, then wiped a little sweat from his brow.