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By morning, more of the statue has been uncovered. A small crowd has already gathered by the time you wake up, while the two men brush loose soil away from the statue with slow, sluggish motions. Judging by the gaunt, shadowed look on their faces, they've been working through the night. Looking at what they've uncovered, you can understand why.
For something so ancient, the statue has been made with astonishing skill and attention to detail, the end results more akin to living flesh than anything carved from stone. You see a beautiful face with long flowing hair and curved horns, with a slender neck leading down to a shapely body. The full breasts are shamelessly bared, but the dirt blocks your gaze before your eyes can travel much lower.
With a vague spasm of guilt, you pull your gaze away from the statue and glance around at the rest of the crowd. You see Cato, his expression caught between revulsion and fascination, then you spot Misty a few paces away. She meets your gaze and pulls an exaggerated grimace, silently mouthing the word “Ick” to you before turning and skulking off in the direction of the church. Just as you're wondering if you should follow her, you hear a low murmur of voices as Lucian arrives on the scene.
Silence falls as the crowd of workers parts before him, backing away from the tall old man. He studies the statue with a cold, clinical eye before nodding in apparent approval. “Good work. You two, get some rest,” he orders, pointing to the exhausted workers, “I'll need some men to take over.”
He has no shortage of volunteers.
-
Later, as if united by some unspoken agreement, you meet with Cato and Misty in the ancient church. From the outside, the church seemed relatively untouched by time but the interior tells another story. The stone tiles underfoot are cracked and broken, with grass and vegetation pushing up between the gaps. Moss clings to much of the walls, save for a few small sections that Misty must have scraped clean. Another statue dominates the church as a whole, albeit one that is carved in a far more acceptable style. No horns, for one thing. Plus, it's sculpted to be wearing clothes.
“Nice place you've got here,” you remark, casting an idle look around the old church, “But you should do something about the moss.”
“Well I've been TRYING, but there's only so much I can do on my own. I'll have you know that I've already ruined my nails. What more do you want me to sacrifice?” Misty snipes back, “But, impossible as it may seem, we do actually have more important problems than just my poor victimised fingernails. You know what I'm talking about, don't you?”
“Of course,” you assure her with a smirk, “I think I hurt my back with all that digging yesterday...”
“You're the absolute worst,” she mutters at you.
[1/2]
