Port Demeter
When the Realmgate to Olympus was found, and we truly realized where it lead, we braced ourselves for petty gods to come pouring out, keen to conquer and rule from the throne they once held. For Zeus to stride forth, lightning bolts in hand, and lay waste to our armies.
Instead, a man that would introduces himself as the god Hermes stood before us, just inside of the portal, winged sandals and all. From the satchel on his side, he pulled a scroll, unrolled it, and began to speak a message from the Lord of the Sky, Zeus himself.
Hermes informed us that we were to be allowed into Olympus at Zeus' behest, and as many of us that we wished to travel with. He looked on benevolently as we gathered our things and my boys shouldered their muskets before we stepped past the threshold and found ourselves standing on a dock. Well constructed and spreading out into the waters of a grand river to match the Mississippi.
Inland, where the dock lead, a town was constructed in the style of ancient Greece (or so the archeologist of the team informed me), and yet containing many anachronistic (These science types are just full of words, aren't they) features.
Proudly, Hermes welcomed us to a town of his sister's.
Port Demeter.
Entrance point of all who wish to travel the Realms of the Olympians and those who simply wish to bask in the golden light of Olympus itself. Not to mention the travel hub for everywhere else in the Realm, from Poseidon's great seas to the throne of Hades.
Or so Hermes put it.
The town had grown around the base of a great mountain we could see as we stepped through, like how a tree can grow around obstacles to it's growth. Everything held a sort of golden hue, aided by the seemingly infinite field of wheat that grew right up to the towns edge and out into the horizon.
Hermes lead our expedition away from the docks, traversing the towns main throughway and bringing many eyes upon us. Most of the people who watched us wore a mix of clothing bizarre to my eye, even though I lacked experience in the field of archeology, it seemed to be a mix of what I'd expect of the Realm of Mount Olympus and something akin to what the civilians amongst my group were wearing. Somehow walking the line between the image of a Greek vase and a photo of Chicago day workers.
Further confusing the image was the clear addition of the aforementioned modern amenities placed with intent between buildings and roads. Telegraph wires and generators. Light bulbs nestled into little mudbrick alcoves on the fronts of houses and at the top of streetlamps.
It reminded me of home, frankly.
We continued to follow Hermes until we were out of the town, I was not graced by the sight of Demeter I regret to say, and were granted seats on a a trolley card large enough to house our expedition and more. It started it's journey along the tracks without any visible input from Hermes, and as we traveled he pointed out many of the sights of Olympus to us.
I do not wish to over sell the beauty of Olympus, but I honestly think that most anything I said would not be doing it justice. As such I simply won't try to stretch this old soldiers lexicon. If you can get a ticket, I simply suggest that you see it for yourself. Sooner, rather than later, as there was one thing that I saw that set me on edge as the trolley climbed it's way up the slope of Mount Olympus.
Storm clouds in the far distance, wide enough where I couldn't see the edge of the storm and it simply curled around the mountain and out of sight. Even as the trolley did it's own circle of the mountains perimeter, those storm clouds never broke. Roiling with forks of lightning and thunder constantly in a curtain that hemmed in the Olympians.
I don't think that Hermes knows I heard him, but when he saw me take note of the storm he himself let his gaze slide to it and his genial expression faded for but a moment as he said a singular word in the form of an accusation.
"Pandorum"
Instead, a man that would introduces himself as the god Hermes stood before us, just inside of the portal, winged sandals and all. From the satchel on his side, he pulled a scroll, unrolled it, and began to speak a message from the Lord of the Sky, Zeus himself.
Hermes informed us that we were to be allowed into Olympus at Zeus' behest, and as many of us that we wished to travel with. He looked on benevolently as we gathered our things and my boys shouldered their muskets before we stepped past the threshold and found ourselves standing on a dock. Well constructed and spreading out into the waters of a grand river to match the Mississippi.
Inland, where the dock lead, a town was constructed in the style of ancient Greece (or so the archeologist of the team informed me), and yet containing many anachronistic (These science types are just full of words, aren't they) features.
Proudly, Hermes welcomed us to a town of his sister's.
Port Demeter.
Entrance point of all who wish to travel the Realms of the Olympians and those who simply wish to bask in the golden light of Olympus itself. Not to mention the travel hub for everywhere else in the Realm, from Poseidon's great seas to the throne of Hades.
Or so Hermes put it.
The town had grown around the base of a great mountain we could see as we stepped through, like how a tree can grow around obstacles to it's growth. Everything held a sort of golden hue, aided by the seemingly infinite field of wheat that grew right up to the towns edge and out into the horizon.
Hermes lead our expedition away from the docks, traversing the towns main throughway and bringing many eyes upon us. Most of the people who watched us wore a mix of clothing bizarre to my eye, even though I lacked experience in the field of archeology, it seemed to be a mix of what I'd expect of the Realm of Mount Olympus and something akin to what the civilians amongst my group were wearing. Somehow walking the line between the image of a Greek vase and a photo of Chicago day workers.
Further confusing the image was the clear addition of the aforementioned modern amenities placed with intent between buildings and roads. Telegraph wires and generators. Light bulbs nestled into little mudbrick alcoves on the fronts of houses and at the top of streetlamps.
It reminded me of home, frankly.
We continued to follow Hermes until we were out of the town, I was not graced by the sight of Demeter I regret to say, and were granted seats on a a trolley card large enough to house our expedition and more. It started it's journey along the tracks without any visible input from Hermes, and as we traveled he pointed out many of the sights of Olympus to us.
I do not wish to over sell the beauty of Olympus, but I honestly think that most anything I said would not be doing it justice. As such I simply won't try to stretch this old soldiers lexicon. If you can get a ticket, I simply suggest that you see it for yourself. Sooner, rather than later, as there was one thing that I saw that set me on edge as the trolley climbed it's way up the slope of Mount Olympus.
Storm clouds in the far distance, wide enough where I couldn't see the edge of the storm and it simply curled around the mountain and out of sight. Even as the trolley did it's own circle of the mountains perimeter, those storm clouds never broke. Roiling with forks of lightning and thunder constantly in a curtain that hemmed in the Olympians.
I don't think that Hermes knows I heard him, but when he saw me take note of the storm he himself let his gaze slide to it and his genial expression faded for but a moment as he said a singular word in the form of an accusation.
"Pandorum"
Type
Dimensional plane
Comments