Re: Chapter #7g: All Academics (Cato)
Brodert leaned forward, hardly daring to credit the story Cato was telling him. “An ancient dungeon-temple-laboratory!” He breathed. “That is extraordinary! And those dog-monsters you speak of sound very similar to the dog-soldiers records tell us were used by the Runelords in their battles with each other.” The scholar sat back. “I had thought all of the soldier-creation wells to be broken or extinguished! And you found one that worked?” He could hardly contain his excitement. “That is amazing!”
“Of course,” the older man noted dryly, running his hand through his beard, “probably less amazing if those soldiers are attacking you. But I wonder,” Brodert mused, “if the demon found some method of re-energizing the wells.” The excitement took him again. “But still, Cato! You and your companions may be the only ones alive to have encountered these dog soldiers in person!” He leaned forward again, eyes shining. “I imagine these experiences alone could earn you a professorship in Magnimar! And when combined with your excellent scholarship, well,” he shot a glance at his protégé, “I would say the sky is the limit!”
“I would say that we have at least a decade’s worth of work to do just exploring and cataloging this complex. It sounds remarkably well preserved!” Brodert’s mouth dropped open as Cato continued his tale. “You brought back . . . a weapon? From the complex? From a statue?” The old scholar looked remarkably like a ten-year-old boy at this moment. “I certainly will ask him if I can examine it! Imagine, Cato! That polearm must be thousands of years old!”
Sage Quink nodded as Cato mentioned the funeral ceremony. “Just so, let’s talk as we walk, shall we?” Energized by the thought of scholarly exploration, Cato’s employer nearly hopped to the door. He opened it and both scholars walked out onto Tower Street.
“Thistletop, eh?” Said Brodert as they turned right and headed for Northchurch Square. “Well, I am certainly no expert on goblins, as you might expect! Shalelu Andosana would be the one you would want to talk to there! However,” he looked up and down the street, lowering his voice, “I have a theory.” A smile creased the older man’s face. “Now, hear me out.” He turned around and pointed to the Old Light. “You know that I believe that the Old Light, and other structures like it, used to be war machines for the Runelords?”
He moved forward as Cato nodded. “Well, I have a theory, a theory that you’ll be able to test, mind you, that this ‘Thistletop’ actually used to be the head of The Old Light!” He held up his hand, as if expecting Cato to object. “No, wait and hear me out. From what I understand from my conversations with those who would know, Thistletop is prime goblin real estate because it came pre-made with underground catacombs. Wouldn’t that be the case if the statue was a war machine? Its operators would probably need access to the head, which is where I believe the weapons were.”
The scholar rubbed his hands together. “I think that whatever attack destroyed the upper portion of The Old Light caused the head to detach and fall into the ocean, and that it is now being used as a home for goblins. Now, I don’t know what advantage that might grant you in your adventures, but I will be even more interested in the results of your exploration tomorrow than I was from your visit to the Catacombs today!”