"What do you mean you won't help us!? You haven't even heard our proposal yet!" Yelling confusedly, Duncan waved his hands across Titus' face, mystified at the Orc's vehement denial.
After Simon had introduced himself, Duncan asked Titus for his services, hoping he would help them with their endeavour. But before he could even say it, the Orc refused it immediately. "Don't think I don't know what type of shitfuckery you're dragging me into, especially not since that whole fiasco with that ex-girlfriend of yours!"
Ears perked up, Simon, eager to catch more of that juicy gossip, egged the Orc on. "Really, he had a girlfriend, but broke up? What happened? You can-" But shut up immediately, once he felt the death stare from a very pissed-off elf.
Brushing off the murderous stare glaring from behind him, Titus continued, explaining why he didn't want to join in their adventures. "Look, kid, I just wanna spend the rest of my days in peace. I've had enough adventures to last me a lifetime or two..."
Clenching his fists, Duncan begged for the last time. "C'mon old man, could you at least listen to our idea first?"
Titus rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Fine. But only after you get treated. Those whip lashes look terrible..." Clutching the wounded arm in pain, Duncan merely hobbled as a reply, grunting in pain.
Simon, dragging the satchel, badly mangled as it was, trotted to Duncan, curious. "Why do we need him? Don't get me wrong, but aren't there enough builders and stonemasons in Mithrador as they are? Surely we can hire one of them, like Lorgan of the Builders Association. I heard he does really we-"
Interrupting midway, Duncan shushed Simon. "Look kid, I know Borgan or Shmorgan, whatever he is. He may be good, but he's not good good, you know what I'm saying? Sure, he makes decent ass buildings, but to build one that can handle a rocket and its heat, you need real tech, the real know-how..."
"What d'you mean re-"
Bright light blasted Simon, blinding him senseless. Once he could see, he realised why Duncan wanted Titus as the builder.
Deep in the valley, step farms layered the cliffs precariously, yet against all odds, survived. Tall pillars dotted the lands, each etched with several names, in a language long forgotten. A small forge is seen situated below the farms, radiating heat against the cold, misty air precipitating from the farms.
But the most magnificent aspect of it all was the monastery, supporting everything as the load-bearing pillar, the foundation of them all.
Built deep within the cliffs, it held motifs of unknown origins. Murals dotted along the walls, depicting scenes from quite possibly Titus' life. Scenes of him when he was a boy, scenes of him cooking food, scenes of him hunting, scenes of him with his family...
Scenes of him on a flying ship, training with men wearing big, bulky armours of unknown origins
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"No."
"What d'you mean no!?"
"Nice try kid. I've seen many fools, but you...you take the cake."
Simon stood agape, wondering why the friendly Orc was now very mad at them. Raising a hand, he interrupted the argument. "Umm, hello? Could you please tell us why it's impossible for us to go to the Moon?"
Chuckling sadly, Titus revealed something that nearly shattered Simon's resolve.
"Because those that tried... get killed by the Goddesses."