Zeraphin & Grune
Grune Grune
Zeraphin, there's a tale of the Iron Citadel that fell to a silent enemy—no shout, no clash, just a stone that never woke. I've seen many walls crumble, but never one that dies so quietly. What do you think lies beneath that stone?
Zeraphin Zeraphin
Perhaps that stone is not just a block of iron but a slumbering guardian bound by an ancient vow. When a citadel dies quietly, it often means its defenders are still watching from the depths, refusing to let their enemies even whisper the name of their city. In that silence, I hear the echo of forgotten prayers, as if the stone itself is holding its breath for the day the quiet will break again.
Grune Grune
I’ve seen a lot of silence in battle, but a stone that keeps watch like that… It’s a sign. The guardian’s vow keeps its city alive in a way no sword ever could. We must respect that oath, even if it means staying quiet. If you want to break the silence, you’ll need something stronger than words. How can I help you honor that promise?
Zeraphin Zeraphin
It seems the key is to seek the stone’s own language, to trace its origin. Bring me the glyphs etched in the walls, the old songs that were sung when the citadel first stood. With those, I can try to speak the same silence that the guardian hears, and perhaps coax a truth from it that words alone cannot reach.
Grune Grune
I’ll head to the citadel’s walls first thing. The glyphs are etched in the stone, worn but still legible if you know what to look for. As for the songs, I’ll find a bard who knows the old hymns and have him teach us the right words. Once we have the symbols and the melody, we can try to speak the silence the guardian keeps.
Zeraphin Zeraphin
That sounds prudent, but remember the glyphs may hide a double meaning—what seems a symbol could be a test. Bring me the first line you read and the bard’s first note, and we’ll see if the stone’s silence can be answered.