Chapter 13.1. Dark Dungeon.

As the ship glided toward bustling port town of Taraka, Lilith could see impressive fortifications, guarding entrance by river, flowing through town center. Towering stone walls rose from water’s edge, their weathered surfaces hinting at centuries of defense against foes seeking to gain entry.

The masked mercenary stood at prow, wind whipping dark locks across face, obscured by her skull mask. Beside her, Cian kept vigilant watch – one hand resting on hilt of a sword, ready to draw weapon instant should threat arise from either shore. Distant sounds of marketplace reached ears, as vessel drew nearer – hawkers calling wares intermingled with rhythmic hammer strikes, echoing from forge districts, beyond visible range.

Scent of salt air mingled fragrant blooms, grown along riverbanks, creating heady aroma that spoke of civilization’s enduring presence.

– It seems this part of journey nears end, – Lilith remarked softly, glancing back at her companion: – Are you prepared to face whatever lies ahead within these walls?

The Tuatha warrior nodded grimly, determination etched upon chiseled features.

– I have sworn aid to deliver relic to Gobniu – no matter what obstacles may stand in path.

Their boat approached a shore, and Lilith and her companions stepped onto sunlit cobblestones, feeling solid ground beneath feet, for first time in weeks. The bustling market square of Taraka unfolded before them – a vibrant tapestry woven by countless merchants hawked wares, under striped awnings, fluttering in gentle breeze.

The mercenary group made their way through throngs of curious onlookers, eyes drawn by eclectic mix of races united by single purpose: to pay respects to lord Gobniu. Snakeman Sharr slithered alongside, scales glistening faint sheen, as he navigated bustling crowd with sinuous grace. Beside him strode fallen angel Azael – his once pristine feathers now tattered, testament to fall from grace long past. Minotaur Kragor brought up rear, muscular bulk parting sea of people before, like ship’s prow cutting waves. His eyes constantly scanned surroundings, ready pounce at first sign of danger befall companions.

After securing lodgings at local inn, Lilith and her companions emerged into bustling streets of Taraka, eager to explore sights and marvels that town had to offer. Cian led group through narrow alleyways, weaving path seemingly familiar, even midst labyrinthine layout of a town.

– Come, – he called back over shoulder, voice barely audible above din of peddlers hawking wares and carriage wheels rattling uneven cobblestones: – I’d like to show you around – give glimpse what life is like for those fortunate enough to call this place home.

The party followed Tuatha guide past row of colorful buildings, whose timber-framed structures leaned precariously outward, like drunkards clutching neighbors support. Smoke curled skyward from dozens of chimneypots punctuating skyline, carrying scent of roasting meat and baking bread on gentle breeze.

As they rounded corner, Lilith found herself staring awestruck at wonderwork of sprawling cathedral dominating plaza ahead. Massive stained-glass windows depicted fantastical scenes of  mythos – intertwined history of Tuatha Dé Danann – glowing softly in sunlight streaming inside sanctified halls.

Snakeman Sharr marveled at architecture as well. Meanwhile fallen angel Azael appeared transfixed by beauty of delicate filigree, adorning exterior columns – unconscious hand reaching to trace lines almost in reverence.

Kragor snorted in derision, bulky frame dwarfing human worshippers, milling entranceway.

– You mortals spend a lot of time building fancy houses for gods, – he rumbled deeply, shaking shaggy head with rueful laugh: – If half effort went hunting monsters, world be much safer place.

Before anyone could respond, Cian hurriedly ushered group onward – eager to avoid further theological debates in public spaces.

– There’s plenty other sights worth seeing still! Just follow me down here, – he ducked low archway, leading to smaller courtyard, bustling with activity.

Hammer strikes echoed off walls nearby workshop, where skilled craftspeople labor tirelessly, to perfect artistry demanded by discerning clientele near and far alike.

As they ventured deeper into heart of a town, Lilith and her companions found themselves amidst labyrinthine network of cobblestone streets, each turn revealing new wonders, which awaited exploration. Cian led way with purposeful stride – pointing out landmarks along path, like seasoned tour guide.

The group stumbled upon vibrant marketplace, where peddlers called wares in colorful cacophony of languages. Stalls groaning under weight of exotic spices, intricate tapestries, and finely wrought jewelry crafted by hands of local artisans. Snakeman Sharr slithered among vendors’ booths, tongue flicking taste of tantalizing aroma of roasting meats and sweet pastries, fresh baked in ovens nearby.

Fallen angel Azael paused to admire display of shimmering fabrics, delicate silks of woven threads, spun by magical creatures in faraway lands of Arachnar. He reached out to caress fine weave gently.

Minotaur Kragor grunted approval at sight of towering fountain, dominating plaza center, its sculpted figures depicting heroes of Tuatha lore, battling monstrous foes. Crystal-clear water cascaded basin below, reflecting dappled sunlight filtering through overhead canopy of trees, bordering square on all sides.

– This place is truly magnificent, – Lilith remarked softly, mask doing little to conceal wonder in sparkling eyes: – Can’t imagine life here – surrounded by such beauty and constant reminder of achievements by ancestors.

Cian smiled warmly to companion’s words, taking moment to soak in atmosphere before gesturing onward once more.

– There’s still much left to see! But first, think we should stop and refresh ourselves with some hearty meal and fine ale.

The group nodded in agreement, stomachs rumbling in anticipation of delicious scents wafted from nearby tavern, whose inviting doorway beckoned weary travelers inside.

After satisfying meal and few tankards of hearty ale, Lilith leaned back in wooden chair, fingers idly tracing intricate patterns carved on tabletop. Beside her sat Cian, eyes distant as if lost thought amidst bustling tavern atmosphere.

– Tell me, – the masked mercenary began slowly, breaking companion’s reverie with gentle nudge of an elbow: – What can you share about Gobniu? And what chances might we stand of seeking audience with him?

The Tuatha warrior sighed deeply, weathered features etched with worry, as he pondered question, posed before him.

– Gobniu is… difficult man to predict, – Cian admitted reluctantly, choosing words carefully, lest to offend anyone nearby, who may overhear: – He values craftsmanship above all else – whether that be blacksmithing, shipbuilding, or even diplomacy itself, – a bitter smile played lips as realization dawned: – We could try approach him directly, but I fear our odds slim, without proper credentials.

Cian’s gaze drifted toward purse at Lilith’s side, where ancient relic of Tuatha Dé Danann lay hidden within.

–  Unless we have something truly remarkable to offer – like artifact such as yours.

Lilith followed companion’s eyes, hand unconsciously drifting rest upon bulging satchel mentioned.

– Yes, – she mused softly, mind racing with possibilities opened by Cian’s suggestion: – Perhaps there is a way to arrange meeting, which would prove mutually beneficial for all involved.

The duo lapsed into thoughtful silence once more, each lost in contemplation how best proceed with delicate matter ahead.