Chapter 116: 7.1 – The Gates of Tarin-Tiran

The wind rippling across the emerald-green grass of the hills around Tarin-Tiran ruffled Robin’s hair. He stood on a boulder near the top of a high hill outside the city, looking down at what he could see of the warren of ruined streets below.

Considering the age of the city it was surprising this much of it was still standing. Magical construction no doubt. Still, even for someone accustomed to the mega-cities of twenty-first century Earth, this was impressive.

There were soaring towers that still thrust upwards toward the sky, and vast avenues that threaded their way through the tangle of smaller streets. Some of these were lush with green grass, nature claiming her due, but still others remained pristine, clean, and clearly paved with broad, flat stones.

Around it all was a massive wall, pierced at regular intervals by gates. These showed the signs of decay. All of them appeared to have been shattered by titanic forces at some point in the distant past. That fit with the bits he’d been able to recover of the city’s history. The dream of Tarin-Tiran had been ended at the hands of an invading army, probably under the direction of Urkhan or one of his most faithful and fervent.

Robin felt a flicker of curiosity along his bond with Rerebos.

What do you think?

Robin sent the thought winging along their connection. Rerebos was hidden nearby, still one of Robin’s many aces in the hole. It was so much easier communicating this way!

It is big. Many places for a good lair. Many places for hidden shinies.

Robin could feel Rerebos’s approval.

The bard glanced back over his shoulder to the rest of his party, packing up camp from the night before. It hadn’t been difficult to assemble them for the quest, even though this place was incredibly dangerous. Well above their average level, in the parlance of his old world.

Drev had readily agreed. The prospect of lost arcane knowledge as well as riches was enough to secure his presence. Jhess, on the other hand, came for the riches alone.

Against his better judgement Robin had decided to recruit Savra to his cause as well. As well as being a talented healer, the woman had divinatory powers and a connection to a goddess sympathetic to Rhyth. Either might come in handy.

He had considered recruiting Fiamah for this expedition. He’d even carefully sounded her out on the idea. But she was busy with something secret for the Guildmagister and was reluctant to leave the other Sisters Sharp for any extended period of time.

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So they had Savra along, in spite of the screaming willies she gave Robin.

The final member of their party, the replacement tank, had come from an unexpected quarter: Robin’s experiences at the Great Library of Noviel. It turned out that Tellurian Vance, slim and elegant appearances aside, was an excellent warrior (and in Robin’s mind, still referred to as a tank).

Vance employed a combination of unusual sorcerous gifts, a few curious blessings from one of the bardic deities, and a great deal of study both martial and academic to create his signature style. The scholar had the ability to control paper and parchment and was able to create incredibly strong armour and shockingly sharp weapons from the stuff. Further, in times of great need he could channel the legendary prowess of individuals featured in popular stories.

Robin had seen him do it thrice already, much to the chagrin of the ogre, the small pack of bandits, and the goblin war party they had encountered on their journey here.

It is good to have minions.

Rerebos’s comment almost made Robin snort with laughter. But he managed to control himself. Laughing out of nowhere tended to draw attention, and that wasn’t something Robin wanted at this particular moment. Not if it might point people toward Rerebos’s presence.

Speaking of shinies, Robin sent the thought to redirect the little dragon’s attention toward something useful, you should go and scout out the nearest gate to see if there are any near there.

Yes. I shall do that.

Keep an eye out for traps or enemies!

Robin felt rather than saw the little dragon depart. There was a sense of someone being just out of reach in his mind that told him that his familiar had flitted away out of telepathic range.

They’d need to find ways to increase that, eventually.

Robin frowned and pulled up his interface to review his active quests. There were a few related to Tarin-Tiran at this point, but the one that was bothering him was the secret quest he had been given to find lost knowledge of the illusory arts within the city. The quest goal read:

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