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Drama in Athens
10 scenes, 927 lines
1. In the Ancient City-State
85 lines
O Dionysos, the source of all joy,
From your sacred wine, we draw our strength.
From the earth you rise,
Scattering forth your sacred vine.
You taught us to sing with mirth sublime,
And set our spirits to dance in the endless skies.
A ceramic bowl sits before the bard, but the crowd seems to ignore it.
Until a pointed cough interrupts the bard's song.
By Zeus! Is that who I think it is?
If it isn't the rising star of the akropolis, Kassandra, the Eagle Bearer!
Stop, Euphonia.
I'm just a misthios for hire. I've no interest in politics. Save those grandiose words of yours for the Archons.
Ah, but I speak only the truth. The tales of your valorous exploits in Megaris precede you ...
They declare that you're a hero throughout Athens and praise you as a demigod ...
Kassandra shakes her head as she approaches to interrupt the bard.
I have a question for you, Euphonia. The crowd will just have to wait for your next performance.
What? You wound me, Kassandra! We bards display our art to please the gods not just the vulgar crowd, just as you mercenaries do.
Anything for a Drachma or two, right?
Kassandra grabs a shining Drachma from her pouch and tosses it into the bard's hand.
We all have our gifts to display, don't we? From the lowliest bard to the greatest of warriors, even those craftsmen are no different.
I suppose you've noticed them too.
In the distance, two figures crouch in a corner of the akropolis, chiseling the wall with their files.
It seems you take your maintenance a little too seriously here.
Oh, it's nothing really. Just a few loose bricks. Easily replaced in a matter of hours. Still, these particular artisans have attracted some rumors.
One of them claimed to be enlightened by Athena. He kept mumbling nonsense about "the statue of Athena," "gold leaves," and "unjust wars." And his companion seemed to be a real grouch.
I've seen a few people try to speak with them, invite them to pick berries outside the city, but they seemed to have no interest ...
Anyways, what does it matter? The Dionysia is drawing near; is it any wonder that eccentrics like them might show up?
She tosses a few more Drachmae into the bard's bowl as she strides away.
...!
Kassandra stealthily approaches a dark corner of the street.
There, two figures have gathered together whispering, and casting vigilant looks around.
For the love of this land, I will not tolerate you raiding the coffers of our people to fund this war. Judgment has been passed, and I shall be its executioner. This is for Athena and for the bounty on Archon's head.
Excellent, Domitius. You've memorized your lines well.
Whether you succeed or not, rumors of your attempt will pass through every corner of the city. All that's left is for the others to receive their messages, then they will know our plans.
Haven't I told you it's in the bag, Isonia?
So, how are we supposed to read these messages when they come? The Sage explained nothing to us ...
...
That's none of your concern, fool!
Seems like you don't know any more about the Sage's plans than I do.
The "playwright" scoffs dismissively.
You're always going on about the "Sage" this and the "Sage" that; I'm tired of it!
Do you think you're special just because you were chosen for this task? You're a veritable Narcissus!
The subject of her tirade shrinks under her words, causing the "playwright" to press the attack.
If you really think you deserve that praise, heh heh ...
You'd better not forget this.
The perfect tool for our trade ... and your mission.
We will only receive one file each—that was the Sage's own words. Keep it safe.
Oh, I will!
Huh? This thing is as dull as a weathered stone. How am I supposed to cut the Archon's throat with this?
Then sharpen it, fool!
The "playwright" turns from him with another scoff, leaving the "actor" still studying the file.
Where are you going, Isonia?
You really are deluded, aren't you? I've more work to do before the plan is ready.
Oh ... good luck then.
He waves goodbye to the "playwright," then clenches the file in his hand and moves to the wall.
Ah ... I should have enough time to put an edge on this before it gets dark.
There's no way I can take down that self-important windbag with brute force alone ... Not to mention there's only a small window for me to strike.
A broken spear is thrust into the brick next to him.
...!
You were saying something?
You're a suspicious sort of character, aren't you? For the safety of this city—and the self-important windbags that run it—I keep an eye out for your type.
W-What? No!
Kassandra pounces on the still dumbfounded "actor."
The "actor" curls up his legs in fear, his hands bound up tight behind his back. Kassandra clasps her hands and leans over him.
So, whose throat were you sharpening this for again?
...!
There are many figures I could imagine, from the Ecclesia or the Boule, perhaps? But how many of them would find their way here?
I've no particular desire to kill you. So, it's in your interest to speak, and to speak only the truth.
...
The "actor" hesitates until he reads the woman's hard face and finally stammers out a name.
Perikles.
Ah, of course. It would be that troublemaking Strategos.
There's nothing else I can tell you!
Alright, if that's all you can say.
Kassandra moves closer with a nod.
*thwack*
Urgh ...
The sudden strike to his head renders the man limp.
But I won't let Perikles be taken out by the likes of you.
Besides, the last thing I want is more trouble here.
I'll hand this matter over to the man himself.
She stuffs the "actor" into a thick cloth bag.
As she ties up the bag with a knot, an eagle's cry pierces through the air.
2. Life and Tragedies
91 linesA group of men has assembled in the Pnyx. The light of democracy shines upon the Athenians as they engage in a fierce discussion.
Inconceivable! Not a single Drachma should be cut from the budget for the Theater of Dionysos! The tragedies we perform there are a matter of pride for the whole polis!
O Dionysos! If only you could open your eyes and witness this calamity befalling us—no wine, not even your finest, could ease such agony!
I do not dispute your words. Athens prides itself on our tragedies, especially during the Dionysia.
Hmph, what nonsense, Hermippos! Don't you think we have greater issues at hand?
If the fighting in Potidaia does not go in our favor, I fear it will be the Spartans that host our Dionysia.
You counsel wisely; the money that would go to this festival will come at the expense of our ability to fight this war ...
So, what do you suggest, Andrius? Are we to just throw every Drachma and fighting man we have left into this battle? All for a war that seems to have no end?
The polis has been eagerly awaiting the Dionysia. This festival is not some mere indulgence or luxury—it brings hope to the people and the favor of the gods!
Yes. Athens thrives because we honor our traditions ...
Answer me, Andrius. Do we shatter our people's hope? Must we abandon our traditions and the gods for victory?
I never said that! Hades take you!
What good are some honeyed words on a stage against a spear? You want more tragedies, eh? Good, they'll be writing them about our hubris.
...
The words gain venom with each reply until the men are nearly at each other's throats.
Theodoros. You just spat on my robe.
Please, Andrius. Let go of his beard!
With calm and commanding presence, Perikles positions himself between the brawling Athenians.
Herodotus wrote that whenever you hear an eagle cry—
"Clang—!"
A shadowy, winged figure sweeps over the crowd and hurls a metal tool along the ground.
It rolls a few times before coming to a stop—an ordinary file.
Are we under attack? An assassin!?
Did that eagle ... drop a blade from its mouth?
Guards! Guards! Defend Perikles!
There's no need for all this drama; your assassin has already been captured.
He's ... in the bag.
Kassandra drops the bag in front of the gathered Archons, prompting a grunt of pain from inside.
Huh ... W-Who are you ...
Who else could it be ... Kassandra.
I am pleased to see you again. I hope I didn't cause you any trouble. Though you seem to have taken care of it.
Hah. I'm a misthios, trouble follows in my wake. But this man intended to trouble you.
And there is something unusual about his weapon.
Perikles receives the file from Kassandra and examines it.
Hmm. It's always something unusual, isn't it?
This looks just like an ordinary file to me—fit for carving a statue or shaping wood perhaps; but a poor tool for an assassin.
And yet, it was his weapon of choice. There's something strange about all this, wouldn't you agree?
That may be, but if all of my would-be assassins choose as he has, haha, I'm sure to live a long life.
There's more to this than meets the eye, Perikles. This man is not working alone.
She opens the bag, revealing the assassin's face.
Woe is me! This is not going according to plan ...
P-Please, forgive me! I'm just a poor fool not a murderer!
You see, there is a bounty on your head, Perikles ...
A bounty set by the Cult of Kosmos, I presume? They've been after my head a long time.
K-Kosmos? No, I've never heard of them! I was just told that there was a bounty. I'm a poor man. Show mercy on me.
If what it says is true, the reward would be tantalizing indeed.
She produces a document and hands it to the Strategos.
You should see for yourself.
A fortune like this would be enough to repair the wall from here to Piraeus.
A shame we'd have to trade the walls for your head.
It may be better to keep your voice low. I'm afraid that there are some here that might be tempted to make that trade.
Indeed, I'm starting to worry just how many would-be assassins could be surrounding me.
It's the Cult of Kosmos you should worry about—not these amateurs.
Most of all, we must keep a wary eye out for Alexios, my brother ... Though I suppose I should be calling him "Deimos" now.
He told me himself that he would take your head and he'll stop at nothing until he succeeds.
You're not doing much to calm my nerves.
You're not the only one. Your colleagues look as stiff as scared goats.
Behind them the other Archons stand frozen in place, their faces grim.
Malaka! The Spartans must be behind it! The Dionysia is a perfect opportunity. That must be why they hired that cult to kill our Strategos!
That settles it! The Dionysia must be suspended, and the city placed on high alert!
That's absolutely unacceptable!
Athens must uphold her dignity, even in times of war. The Dionysia is not just about us Athenians indulging in revelry—it's about honoring Dionysos himself!
...
And what of our Strategos's safety?
Athens without Perikles is like the Dionysia without Dionysos!
The bickering begins again, until all turn to Perikles.
You look to me, friends. But this is not our way. I am not your king. To host the Dionysia or not, that is a decision we must decide together as citizens.
Perikles walks toward the urn placed prominently near them.
If you agree that the Dionysia should proceed as planned, cast your shard into the urn. If the urn is at least half-full then we hold the Dionysia as scheduled.
...
The glory of Athens demands that we not cower before those that dare to threaten us!
Perikles ... you ...
Athens—the birthplace of democracy, the Panathenaea, and home of the greatest dramas. Here, we worship the gods, and in return, we are blessed by them.
We appreciate beauty without succumbing to excess. We pursue wisdom without becoming weak. While we may not love war as the Spartans do, we fight with courage more than their equal!
And we must let neither war nor fear of death break our spirit or our love for freedom.
Sacrifices must be made, and we understand that fully!
On behalf of all Athenians, I thank you, Perikles.
Well spoken, Perikles.
Oh, well, it was nothing; to wield rhetoric skillfully in this city is not just an art, but a matter of survival.
I fear I may have spoken too well. The Dionysia is likely to go on as planned. So, if you don't mind, I would ask you to discover who this assassin ...
Spare me from another speech, I'm already happy to help.
Don't be so quick to decide. I fear this will be no easy task.
A difficult task means a handsome payment.
Kassandra grabs a pottery shard and tosses it toward the urn.
Stop! You have no right to vote here!
With a sharp, clear sound, the shard lands squarely in the urn.
Indulge me, call it a part of my payment. I've always wanted to know what it feels like.
...
The mercenary pats the dust from her hands, tucks the file away, and strides off without response.
Her shard is soon made insignificant by the piling weight of those that follow.
One shard after another is tossed into the urn, like raindrops falling on a tile roof.
3. The Sweetest Fruit
77 linesThe hidden spectator's mind drifts away, still lost in the brilliance of the Oresteia.
His breath, soft and steady, releases a gentle warmth.
Undoubtedly, this lucky spectator has enjoyed a deep and restful sleep.
...
The Theater of Dionysos is truly mesmerizing ... and the wine here is beyond compare. Athens—so much greater than the history books could have ever taught us ...
Ah, this APPLe believes I've found my true home ...
Hmm ... but who brought me this blanket ... So comfortable ...
The drunken observer turns over, pulling the blanket closer around him.
A faint melody reaches Mr. APPLe's ears. Somewhere beneath his tree, a few festival goers dance joyfully, while wicker baskets filled with flowers and fruit sway gently along the river.
The vine weaves across the boundless earth,
Scattering far the bountiful gifts of Dionysos.
Under your watchful gaze, the world brims with hope.
Basking in the warm sunlight, accompanied by a humid breeze and joyful melodies—
What a cozy environment for Mr. APPLe.
After days and nights soaked in wine, Mr. APPLe has lost the golden "skin" he once acquired in Florence.
Wait ... Wasn't I in the Theater of Dionysos?
Out of panic, he wraps himself in his blanket—a leaf, to be precise.
The rustling sound of the leaves draws the attention of the followers below.
Look, an apple! I've never seen an apple so big before!
One of the revelers tiptoes over and picks the apple from its treetop perch.
*sniffs*
Oh, incredible! It has a rich aroma of fine wine coming from its rind.
...
I can't believe my ears! Is this apple ... snoring?
Everyone, Dionysos's blessing is surely upon us! He must rejoice to see that we will hold the Dionysia as planned.
But a magical apple such as this must be used to honor our patron ... I suggest we make it into a fine wine!
...!
It's too late for that, my friends. By the time this apple will have fermented the Dionysia will be long over.
And even so, we'd need many large, sweet apples like this one for such an offering.
A hand grabs Mr. APPLe and tosses him into a basket full of fruits.
Captain ... Vertin ... Save me ...
Achoo!
This is bad; this is bad-bad, Vertin! I've turned the whole city upside down and backwards; not a single soul has seen a flying apple!
How was your luck?
I'm afraid all I found were ... these.
She shows Regulus the apples she received; a mix of round and misshapen ones, some green, some yellow.
The Athenians were very generous. When they learned I was searching for an apple, they insisted on giving me every apple they could find, some of them look freshly plucked.
They even offered me some of their wine, they said it might help me see my "flying apple."
Sod it all. None of these lousy things look like Mr. APPLe!
Regulus paces back and forth along the stone tiles, angrily biting into one of the apples.
Uh …
Oh! This tastes awful, Vertin. Don't tell me the Athenians actually enjoy eating sour fruit like this?!
Regulus, we've arrived in Classical Greece during the Peloponnesian War.
This was before apples underwent the cross-breeding necessary to gain their modern sweet taste. In fact, most people of this time would prefer grapes and figs.
Apples were considered to be used as offerings to the gods.
Y-You mean ... we'll never ever find Mr. APPLe?!
N-No, Regulus ... What I meant is ...
Perhaps Mr. APPLe has accidentally become part of some offering, we should be on the lookout, but we need to be careful; we can't just pluck him from an offering without causing offense.
I don't think we have enough money left. With what we have we could scarcely afford to buy a few sheets of papyrus.
If we wanted to make posters for Mr. APPLe, we may need to ask Ms. Sotheby for help—though she's not part of this operation.
Accustomed to the conveniences of modern society, the duo struggles to come up with a solid plan in this strange and unfamiliar era.
For perhaps the first time, Regulus truly grasps the devastation brought by the "Storm."
Regulus scratches her head with a rather serious look on her face.
Vertin, we've got to solve the "Storm," once and for all!
...?
Ahem, it's nothing! All I meant is that we should thank Lorentz for their great invention, the Stage in the Rain!
Joking around at a time like this only adds to her anxiety.
Regulus knocks her head, as if trying to fix a broken mood switch.
Just pondering here, but what would we need to whip up a loudspeaker in Ancient Greece, eh Vertin?
And what are the odds of us getting acquainted with some local scoundrels or—rock gods forgive me—even a cop?
Do you think Mr. APPLe could regenerate if we only find his core?
Inspirations explode in Regulus's mind like supernovas, only to collapse into one black hole after another.
...
There's no use for it ... I'll have to put together a remembrance set for my next broadcast.
Regulus nods helplessly, her inspiration running dry—as a firm, warm hand lands on her shoulder.
You've got the right idea, Regulus.
When in Athens, do as the Athenians do.
So then we're going to get help from some local scoundrels?
I'm not sure about scoundrels, but there are sure to be mercenaries around or informants.
...!
Regulus's eyes light up with her reply. As memories of cheering crowds and singing birds return to her.
Too right! Just as London had me to keep the pulse on the city, there's sure to be some kind-hearted legend who knows every nook and cranny of Athens!
You just leave it to me, Vertin!
Just think, a like-minded rocker of the ancient world! We'll get on like jam on toast! And once we're thick as thieves, we'll get that information for a song.
The "Legend of London" has found her groove once again, dashing off into the busy streets of the ancient city.
4. Prometheus Bound
124 linesRegulus's cry of surprise echoes far and wide, startling a few seagulls perched on the rooftop.
The young girl frowns viciously and lowers her voice.
Look, mate. I'm not asking for the bleeding moon here; I just wanna know where my APPLe is ...
Or are you trying to pull one over on me? Even a whole bottle of fruit wine is only a sixth of a Drachma!
The bard rises to her feet, plucking the strings of her lyre with a smile.
My friend, what you're searching for isn't just any ordinary apple—it's a magical talking one.
Which means I will need to attend the celebration if I want to find it. After all, an apple as enchanting as Eris's banquet gift that brought Ilium to its ruin—could only be used as an offering to the gods.
The appeal to Greek mythology falls flat as it hits Regulus's ears. For whom only the stories of the gods of rock have ever held interest.
Yada-yada. Whatever you say, love. All I know is, what you're charging is daylight robbery!
You may be right.
But you won't find a better offer; not many people in my trade would trust an outsider who might just run off after I do my part.
We won't ever do that! You can ask after Captain Regulus's reputation anywhere from the Thames to the high seas, and—
Familiar footsteps break up their tense negotiations.
Euphonia, remember that sneak you pointed out to me before? I need some extra hands to ...
They turn around and find a tall and strapping mercenary standing in front of them.
Oh, it seems you have another customer. I'll leave you to your work.
Not at all ... Welcome back, Eagle Bearer. I just didn't expect to see you so soon!
But did you say you need some extra hands? ... Let me think ... Eureka! I've got a plan ...
The bard murmurs to herself as a flash of inspiration crosses her mind.
She clears her throat and takes Regulus in one hand and Kassandra in the other with an amiable smile.
The fates have surely strung us all together for a reason!
You've come to ask about that weird magic apple—one quite likely to be used as an offering in the Dionysia.
And you, Kassandra, that strange man you asked me to investigate ... he claimed to be a craftsman repairing the Temple of Dionysos ...
I will hazard a guess that you've come because you need more hands to search out his co-conspirators.
Hang about, you don't mean ...
You are a clever one, miss! I do believe you will be able to assist one another.
Malaka, I knew it!
Fully aware of how cunning the bard is, Kassandra shakes her head. Time is running short—she must come to terms with the necessity of her situation.
So, then we're all going to the Dionysia in order to look for someone.
It shouldn't be too hard to look for a talking apple while I'm there.
Cheers, love! And we'd be happy to help with ... oh, erm ... Vertin, what's your take on this?
Regulus winks at the mercenary, who seems to appreciate the idea of some extra eyes on the festival.
Are you the one they call "Eagle Bearer"?
We've heard people singing of your exploits all over Athens.
They say the Eagle Bearer is a valiant hero, always willing to help those in need—a friend one can entrust their life to ...
The mercenary braces her hands against her sides and clears her throat.
You two certainly aren't from around here; that's obvious.
... Huh?
Everyone in this city knows; there's no amount of flattery that will affect my price.
Apologies, I've given you the wrong impression. I only meant to ask if the tales we've heard are true. I hope our cooperation can be built on mutual understanding.
Kassandra raises an eyebrow, surprised to be doubted by the very woman who had just praised her.
It seems you've heard of my work already.
I am Kassandra, the Eagle Bearer, and if you had any doubts, I will readily prove all that I am capable of.
She reaches out a hand to the girls.
The name's Regulus, and this is Vertin.
She happily reaches out to grab Kassandra's hand.
Alright then, so how exactly are we going to help you?
Simple.
For now, all I need is more eyes around the city; do whatever pleases you, but keep a lookout for anyone suspicious.
A twinge of nerves creeps up Regulus's spine.
Athens is flooded with visitors in anticipation of the Dionysia; I won't be able to track every potential threat.
Right, well ... How do you know we aren't suspicious?
Kassandra examines the two figures; their modern clothing cutting a bizarre contrast to the world around them.
I couldn't even begin to guess where you two are from.
But that means you are most certainly not from Sparta, Korinth, or Phokis.
Which means you probably aren't here to kill Perikles.
Regulus takes a moment to digest this new information, before letting out a gasp.
W-What! Kill Perikles?!
Wait-Wait a tick, are you asking us to keep our eyes peeled for ... bloodthirsty assassins!?
There's no need to be alarmed.
I only need you to be my eyes. Just do as I say, and there will be no danger.
Regulus nods out of courtesy and whispers to the girl next to her.
Vertin, old pal, old chum, mate—I think we ought to reconsider this whole gig.
Let's just get this done, chum.
Her calm demeanor blunts Regulus's fears, but soon after her attention is captured by distant singing.
Huh, what's going on ...
The procession makes its way toward them, surrounded by a parade of people singing and carousing through the streets.
Welcome to Athens—
Have a toast, friends from afar!
Is this that party you mentioned?
The Dionysia, yes. You couldn't have picked a better time to blend in.
And if you have time ... to have some fun.
We'll do our best to look for anything that might point to danger.
Regulus seems to have only heard half of Kassandra's words.
Have some fun ... But what about Mr. APPLe ...
She lowers her head, facing down a great dilemma.
Forget it, parties can wait! I'll do whatever I can to find you, Mr. APPLe!
Her voice fades into the growing festivities.
Understood.
Vertin, look at this pottery! Wouldn't something like this be a killer-diller in your lobby?
...
Oh, and what do you think about this linen piece on me? I guess it's only suited for summer sailing.
Ahem, Regulus, what happened to all that conviction from before?
The festival is full of attractions and distractions for the rocker pirate.
Hello ladies, how would you like to paint your very own festival mask?
They follow the sound of the barker's voice and discover an assortment of materials spread across the table—wood, leather, willow branches, rattan, minerals, and insect dyes in a variety of colors.
Sorry, but we're a tad busy at the moment—
This is fab!
The festivities once again ensnare Regulus's attention.
How about it, Vertin? Come on! Think of the attention! We'll be as famous as I was back when I was hosting APPLe Radio!
My fans were bonkers! They'd crawl over glass for a signature! We sure could use some of them right now.
Haha, please come and try.
Just you wait, mate. This rockin' pirate is about to make a one-of-a-kind superstar mask in no time!
Regulus leans back to appreciate her "masterpiece," unaware that their new mercenary friend has returned.
Nothing unusual around the Dipylon Gate and the Temple of Erechtheion. What about—
Kassandra is speechless upon seeing their two peculiar masks.
Despite having crossed the Aegean far and wide and meeting many innovative poets, dramatists, and sculptors, she'd never seen anything quite like them.
It's not exactly what I'd call an effective disguise.
She removes her mask and helps Regulus with hers.
I believe this may be a bit too fashion-forward for this era.
Kassandra seems about to question her choice of words, but is interrupted by another round of cheering from the crowded street.
...!
The cheers grow louder as the crowd sings and sprays fruit wine into the sky.
Maidens in elegant dress balance fruit baskets filled with offerings on their heads; while the procession waves blazing torches in the air.
No need to be startled. The Dionysia parade is just getting started.
By the time they reach the agora, it will be even more lively.
But that means the streets will be packed with people—a perfect opportunity for anyone with ill intent.
She deftly moves through the pulse of the crowd and waves her hand to the ladies behind.
After a clear eagle cry, Kassandra is nowhere to be seen.
You watch the streets and I'll cover the high places.
This is certainly a party ...
...
Regulus, Vertin!
?
Is that the strange apple you've been looking for?
...!
I think I've found him.
Unfortunately, it seems he is about to fulfill his duty to Dionysos, as one of the sacred offerings.
5. Adventure on the Roofs
70 lines...
Mr. APPLe's flesh grows paler amidst the loud singing and wobbling fruit baskets.
The procession gathers into a surging torrent flowing through the streets.
Colorful banners and ivy-woven cushions are tossed into the sky. The avenue is now packed with floats and partiers wearing masks.
Kassandra, Vertin ... We've got to do something!
I can't let them turn Mr. APPLe into an offering! Think about how upset my listeners would be!
Oi! Lads, make way, please—
Regulus charges headlong into the crowd making a beeline for her first mate.
Hang in there. I'm coming for you!
There is a surge of courage and conviction burning in her veins; she'll stop at nothing to protect her crew.
Hey, you stepped on my robe. Be careful!
Put your hands up, everyone. Just like this! Haha, praise Dionysos!
Regulus, be careful. Hold my hand, stick close to me—
The surge of the crowd separates their hands. As the torrent of movement passes, only one remains.
R-R-Regulus?
Regulus is nowhere to be seen. In place of her friend's hand there rests a green apple; its aroma tinged with a faint bitterness.
...
Regulus the Reckless—she's a bold one.
But she has yet to master the art of navigating a crowd.
Huh?
Kassandra leans over from the rooftop, offering a hand up to Vertin.
Why don't you take a look from up here, Vertin?
As far as I'm concerned, this will be the fastest way to catch up.
There's something about you ... it reminds me of her.
Talk later—just grab my hand.
I remember how nervous I was the first time I climbed up along a vine.
Are you certain this is a shortcut?
Completely.
...
First, you need to calculate the distance between the two roofs. Make sure you have a proper running start and sufficient height.
Keep your body tight, eyes on your target; focusing on where you land.
Like this—
Let your knees bend slightly as you land, then try to regain your balance.
Kassandra lands effortlessly on the opposite roof.
...
Her eyes scramble across the roof, her legs uneasy as she steps forward.
The distance between the rooftops seems to expand before her eyes.
But she takes a deep breath and steadies herself.
<speed=3>She runs through every step in her mind before she takes them and then—
Watch out!
Ugh!
She falls. Arms flailing as they miss their mark, only to be caught just in time by the muscled grip of a misthios.
Thank you, Kassandra.
Your instincts are impeccable, but you may need a bit more training.
This may not be the shortcut I imagined for us; let's go another way.
Is it ... more dangerous?
No, much safer.
Kassandra's gaze fixes on the protruding bricks before settling on a distant temple.
Relax, Vertin.
...?
A firm hand catches her.
Followed by a gust of wind rushing against her face.
I must say, I'm in awe of your skills, Miss Kassandra.
But how do we get down from here?
She circles the edges of the roof, searching for any bricks or beams she might climb.
Unfortunately, the craftsmen have built the temple with meticulous care—the walls are so polished and pristine that not even a speck of dust clings to them.
Just hold on.
A gentle breeze brushes against her face.
<speed=1.5>They jump off the rooftop, feeling the world blur as it rushes up to meet them.
Then, the haystack below swallows them whole.
She emerges from the stack, and after regaining her composure, follows Kassandra as she slinks into the temple.
I never quite expected this mode of travel to be so ... thrilling.
I suppose it must be; it's so natural to me now that it feels routine.
What?!
Regulus finally arrives at the scene, still gasping for breath.
That's a trick and a half! How did you get here before I did?
Kassandra rushes over and covers Regulus's mouth.
Shhh ... We have a situation.
6. "Blessed" by the Muses
116 linesFlickering lights dance over the temple's reliefs. Below them, figures dart between the Maenads and Satyrs.
These the weird things you were talking about, Kassandra?
She lowers her voice, talking as if she were an old friend.
Cor, look at these! Ladies dancing, beastie boys grooving to the music, and who's the bloke with the naff hat ...
If I didn't know any better, I'd have guessed he was some kind of Greek god of rock'n'roll!
*cough*
Are we sure we haven't messed around with time and space here?
This is a temple to Dionysos, who was, among other things, a god of joy, passion, and chaos. It's little wonder his reliefs would reflect that.
Right then, so he IS a proper rock god, just thousands of years early. Give or take ...
Her enthusiasm hits Kassandra like a wave against a steady ship.
... I'm not sure I understood anything you just said.
Before she can continue, a ribbon swaying in the breeze catches her attention.
...!
She grasps the ribbon in a swift motion and slices it through.
Worm-like patterns coil and twist along the ribbon.
Hey, don't look at us, mate! We didn't do it!
Of course you didn't; we only just got here.
The marks on it leave a fresh ink stain on her finger.
Not that I'm above a bit of vandalism, but what's your angle?
These symbols are similar to the ones on Perikles's bounty.
That cannot be a coincidence.
Regulus stares in silent disbelief as she reads the value of the bounty. Though, being Regulus, her silence doesn't last.
Bounties and puzzles could wait!—Mr. APPLe can't! First priority is rescuing him from this spooky place.
Who knows what they've done to him!
We'll look for your friend soon. First, I need to scout out the surroundings; I'm not sure it is safe here.
She crouches low to the ground, running her fingers along the marble floor.
A faint trail of footsteps guides them toward the inner sanctum of the temple.
We aren't the first visitors here tonight.
It's difficult to say how many have come through; the prints are too jumbled.
No one is supposed to be here after the tributes have been laid in the inner temple. Not until the statue returns after the Dionysia.
That means whoever's up ahead is up to no good, right?
It's possible.
She eases her steps into a silent crawl.
Stay behind me.
No need to worry about us, love. We can handle ourselves.
Be careful, Timon! Don't break those pots! What if the Eagle Bearer noticed! She's as sharp-eyed as her eagle!
How stupid can you get, Aristion?! Is this the first time you've used a reed pen?! That charcoal powder isn't cheap!
We're doomed if we upset Deimos!
I don't mean to interrupt, Lysias, but ... all that shouting isn't doing any good.
Agreed.
Faster than the west wind, she brings her spear up to the craftsman's throat.
Maybe my ears deceive me, but you don't sound much like craftsmen.
E-Eagle Bearer?!
Nor killers for that matter. Not professional ones, anyway.
Her words sound colder than the edge of her spear. The hostage can't help but shiver.
W-We are craftsmen! We're here to repaint the temple for the Dionysia—
Save your lies. What you are doing here has nothing to do with the Dionysia.
Now, who is your master? Speak!
You, you—
He grips his file aggressively; before either can react, a gnashing order is barked from within the darkness.
Malaka, kill her!
The battle is over swiftly.
The Spear of Leonidas easily tears their disguises away, revealing familiar black cuirasses and gloves.
I know this armor. You are from the Cult of Kosmos.
You're making dangerous enemies, Eagle Bearer.
He dons a hideous mask.
None dare oppose us ...
... who value their lives!
He reveals a hidden axe and brings it down toward her.
Hold.
A cold voice rings out of the darkness.
Leave her to me.
That voice ... I should have guessed, Alexios.
"The mercenary with the broken spear," do you still wear that title, sister?
Deimos, forgive us, we've failed ...
Get out of my sight, all of you!
Y-yes ...
You surprise me, Alexios. I didn't think you'd stoop so low.
The cult has deceived you. You don't know what it means to kill Perikles.
I know that he has defied us!
And that whoever stands in the way of our plans must pay the price.
You cling to your loyalties so blindly.
He walks down from the platform, retaking his sword while observing his surroundings.
Colorful banners have been draped from the ceiling down to the ground. Pots and flagons litter the temple floor. It appears the cultists left in a hurry.
I won't let you kill him, not while I still draw breath.
She squares up to him and readies her spear.
...
They stand at odds; each ready to strike. But the expected attack never arrives, as Alexios breathes out a long-held breath.
This is the last time I spare your life.
A smoke bomb explodes between them. Kassandra catches a final venomous look on Alexios's face before he disappears.
...?
Her brother's strange and sudden mercy weighs on her mind only a moment before a distant shout refocuses her attention.
Help! Kassandra!
Captain ... Vertin ... I'm here ...
The fruit, now fully immersed in honey, manages to sputter out a plea for help.
The thick sweetness drips all over his shallow basket, which has attracted a few birds that flit about it looking for a snack.
I know exactly who to call.
<speed=1.5>The Eagle Bearer looks up at the sky and raises her arm. Within half a heartbeat, they hear a piercing cry echo between the temple's pillars.
Scree!
The sweetened fruit is pulled into a warm hug.
Good to see you again, First Mate! I was starting to worry I'd have to read your obituary out on Radio APPLe!
The rumors of my death may have been exaggerated, Captain.
I should feel quite put out if I couldn't join the 27 club with you.
Too right you should! You aren't allowed to die without my permission!
As Regulus returns to the ground with her partially embalmed first mate, she gives Kassandra a hearty tap on the shoulder.
So, what should I name your thank-you performance? I've got some fab ideas already—
The Heroine and the Screech of Night, Whispers on the Edge of the Temple: Love and Courage Dancing in the Moonlight; or The Dark Night of Freedom, The Stars and the Eagle Bearer Guide Us ...
A show? You're naming a drama after me?
Don't mind her. Thank you for the help, Kassandra.
Don't sell yourselves short. You've already done a great deal to help me.
She pats down her sleeves, trying not to give too much weight to her actions.
Nonetheless, we'd like to do more than just help you with spotting clues.
In fact, if you don't mind, we'd like to join your investigation to repay your kindness.
Too right! Mr. APPLe is always going on about all this Greek stuff! With that great honking big brain of his, we're sure to be of help!
Several hands are placed together in a moment of sincere warmth.
7. Above Suspicion
132 linesThose so-called craftsmen were from the Cult of Kosmos.
But they weren't here to destroy the temple. They only left some strange signs and patterns.
The same symbols that were on the bounty.
So then that bounty came from the cult too!
So then, we know at least to look around for those symbols.
That would be wise.
There's still no sign of them ...
There was no sign of them in the Agora, Plaka, or the Panathenaic Way ...
I'm beginning to doubt myself; what did we see there? Could it really have been my brother?
It seems like there is no one else bearing those symbols near the Theater of Dionysos.
Their discussion is halted by the sound of huffing soldiers and groaning prisoners.
Girls, lookie here at what I've found. A bunch of goons with those odd symbols!
Regulus marches toward them like a successful hunter, followed by a cadre of Athenian Evzoni.
Her prisoners slouch in after them; their hands tied with wet ropes.
Well met, Kassandra. Hopefully we can be of help.
Did I miss a mic check or something? They are the bad guys!
And thanks to this rockin' pirate captain, now they're our prisoners.
Good thing I ran into these Calzoni lads; they said they were only too happy to help us protect Perikles. Though, their methods are a mite rough.
Quick as a blade, you have the makings of a fine misthios, Regulus.
I just hope she didn't cause too much trouble.
We'll have to uncover that for ourselves.
Fine.
Vertin, my true and reliable friend, my best mate, did you really doubt me?
They turn to the suspects together.
First, I appreciate your cooperation with us at this time.
Now, we will proceed using logical deduction to determine your guilt or innocence. All we need to know is who among you has any relationship with the Cult of Kosmos.
Let's begin. You there.
The person called raises his head with a fearful look in his eyes.
Ladies! I-I confess—
I was watching some of the rich merchants on Hesidon Street; I saw these symbols and wanted to record them.
But I'm not a part of any cult! I'm just a clumsy painter.
...
A festive oil lamp for ... three Drachmae; festive wine ... 50 Drachmae, and a festive lyre for ... 600 Drachmae ...
Could there be something behind these records?
I-I didn't commit any crime!
No, all you've done is put "Festive" before the name of each of your wares so you could double or triple the price? Eh, Sotirius?
We misthios bleed and sweat for every coin we earn. While you win your coin with deceit.
Don't let me see you doing this again, or ...
She pats the spear on her palm and motions for the man to be escorted out by the Evzoni.
And our next suspect is ...
Over here, ladies.
APPLe?
The very same. Unfortunately, not even my closest and best mate is above suspicion.
She holds back true grief in her voice.
I don't even know what Mr. APPLe went through in that evil fruit basket, but I can only hope that we can set him right again.
But Captain, this is just some honey and syrup that got stuck on my skin.
Not a secret mark from some cult.
It is doubtful that the cult would take in an outsider so quickly—
—Especially an outsider like him.
...
Their suspects prove to be a dead end.
Kassandra, you already captured a suspected cultist, right?
Yes, but he hasn't said anything of value and I don't think he knows much to begin with.
Except ...
She takes out the unsharpened file once more.
I had hoped that it would give me something to find the source of this conspiracy, but now we know it is connected with the Cult of Kosmos.
So, there is nothing more to be learned from him. Anything he tells us now will be out of fear of punishment; he's unreliable.
...
A thought strikes her.
You mentioned that there were others there with the assassin? Did you catch anything else before they ran?
A little, yes. Though not enough to determine their plans.
Something about a "Sage" ... Wait.
The same spark leaps to her as memories return.
So, how are we supposed to read these messages when they come? The Sage explained nothing to us ...
...
That's none of your concern, fool!
Seems like you don't know any more about the Sage's plans than I do.
We don't need to know.
She lets her statement rest for a short moment as she composes her plan.
If I'm correct, all we'll need to do is claim the Sage is here ...
... They're so disorganized they may not know we're bluffing.
The plan is presented confidently, and the listening APPLe bobs in agreement.
That's very devious, Vertin. A bit of guile worthy of Odysseus.
And you, Mr. APPLe, may come in handy, as we'll need your skill in Athenian performance.
Would you kindly share your skills with us? I have a feeling it will help our investigation immensely.
The seasoned mercenary takes in their words carefully.
So, you're suggesting that we perform some sort of drama to lure these cultists out?
Yes, precisely. The cultists seem to be awaiting special orders. So let's give them what they're waiting for.
Then let's get started. We need to make this look believable. So, Kassandra, you'll need to bring us to the prison.
How fun. Follow me.
What?! Prison again?!
The "actor" had not expected any visitors.
Who are you?
You are Domitius, correct? I've been assigned as your Logographer, to assist you with your trial.
The Archons have accused you of being a member of the Cult of Kosmos, do you accept your charge?
The Cult of ... I-I have no idea what you're talking about!
I see. And you're sure that you have nothing to do with them?
Of course! I would never be a part of that horrific cult!
Of course not.
I've made my decision; I believe this man is innocent.
The strange-looking advocate raps her hand on the wall, and soon a familiar face appears.
Domitius.
It's you! What are you going to do with me?!
I'll tell you what I'm going to do, I—I'm going to release you. It was my mistake ... your arrest ... brings shame to the Polis ...
To all of civilization, really.
...?
So, I will make things right.
Not only will you be released, but we will also publicly declare you innocent of your crimes.
I've prepared a declaration saying that you, Domitius are not a member of the Cult of Kosmos, and that you completely and thoroughly repudiate their actions. Which is why, when you discovered this bounty, you immediately surrendered it to the Archons.
She makes a great performance of his supposed innocence.
What, but I-I didn't ...
In fact, all thanks to you, we uncovered the cult's plot and even managed to capture a key member.
A key member ...
No need to be afraid, Domitius. We're interrogating the mastermind at this very moment.
You don't mean ... the Sage?
He murmurs the words out in disbelief.
Ahem, and just think, Domitius, it was all because of you. We found the clues in your bounty sheet and broke your secret code.
She waves the file in her hand.
But how did you decipher it? Ebatous hadn't told me how to read the scytale—
The unfinished words stick in his throat.
But it's too late.
Scytale? If my memory serves, it was a tool that Spartans used to encode their messages.
Rather than pain, the sound coming from next door turns into cheers.
The captured "mastermind" appears around the corner.
A flying apple?! No, you mean you—
Knowing that it is a scytale solves one major hurdle. However, we will still need the key to decipher it ...
Well then, it seems like we still have some use for you.
They all fix their sight on Domitius.
Quit staring at me! I've figured out your game; I'm not talking!
I won't tell you anything—!
8. The Code Breaker
85 linesInside a dimly lit hall, a throng of people stands at attention. Their black armor and grotesque masks presenting a cold and ruthless atmosphere.
Their Deity of Fear paces in front of the central altar, looking ill at ease.
Do you guarantee the safety of this place?
Of course, Deimos.
A foolish cultist has been locked up in the Athenian prison, but he wouldn't dare speak out. Besides, the Evzoni are busy with the Dionysia and thinned out to fight in the battle for Potidaea. They don't have time for us.
Besides, with you here, there is nothing to fear. Even if some meddling misthios were to discover us, you would end them in a heartbeat.
Hmph. That much is true, Pendoros.
But my skill will be no excuse for your failure. You had best remember that.
And what of your coded messages? Are you certain our plans are secure?
Worry not, Deimos. The Athenians shall never decipher it.
We've utilized a scytale. I believe you may be familiar with it, being a Spartan.
You do know that the Misthios with the Broken Spear is a Spartan as well?
Yes, but she was not raised as a warrior of Sparta; she would not have learned the means of deciphering it.
We shall see, and as for the code, you've hidden it in these files?
Though they may appear ordinary, they are anything but.
The key is hidden in the handle.
Even if the file or one of our craftsmen were to fall into the hands of the Athenians, they would remain baffled by the code. So our plans remain concealed in shadow.
Even as they search vainly for answers, our coded message already lies hidden in plain sight within the temple.
Yet none will know it until it is time to strike.
You had best hope that all is as you say. I will not have anything stand in my way this time.
He grabs the file from the cultist's hand and tosses it away.
My sword aches for the time when I will slash down those banners.
I should have killed her then.
The Sage appreciates your patience. You have proven more than worthy to wield the Sword of Damokles.
He deems me "worthy," does he? He forgets his place!
With this sword, I will strike off the head of Perikles.
Alexios draws his sword and flicks it, easily cutting through a nearby banner.
Let Athens be enlightened.
Let Athens be enlightened.
Their chanting spills out from their hidden sanctuary.
I-I have a question ...
A hoarse voice comes from the crowd below.
Forgive me. I forgot the ... order to wrap the strip.
What a fool! Who recruited this worm? We have no room for dead weight.
Y-you're right. It's my fault. I shouldn't have raised a stupid question ...
I should wait until the ritual ends and ask the Great Deimos for the answer in private ...
...
The man's face falls into a stern look as he turns his eyes to the tattered ribbons on the ground.
People say that the mighty god Deimos possesses wisdom beyond the ken of mere mortals ... I'm sure he can answer all my questions—
The words break Deimos's stride if only for a brief moment.
Shut your mouth, pig!
Deimos's time is precious. How dare you waste his time on such a stupid question?!
Get over here! I'll show you. But this is the last time.
Oh, thank you. Thank you for your guidance.
And thank you for your wisdom, O Chosen One.
...
The cultists scatter into the city like ash in the wind.
All except for the lone fool.
She instead makes her way quietly back to the prison.
She returns to find it much more lively than she had expected.
Every corner seems to be echoing ferocious curses from a familiar voice.
Deceivers and villains! You swore you would set me free once I told you where to go!
Deceitful outlanders, shameless imposters—more shameless even than the lowliest pig!
You seem to be in high spirits, Domitius.
Isonia?! Is that you? Did they capture you too?
The appearance of another cultist momentarily ends his tirade.
N-no, you're not Isonia. Her arms are not quite so bulky ...
And I am not quite so stupid.
As she removes her mask, her identity becomes clear.
You may leave now, friend. You helped a great deal in protecting Perikles.
Especially in helping us figure out that scytale. Well ... with some help.
You—
APPLe delivers a purposefully dramatic bow.
Enough ...
In fact, sir. I owe you a great debt.
If you hadn't mentioned scytale, this APPLe might never have uncovered the secrets of your cult's communication.
Who would've guessed that my chief mate was such a scholar, eh? I never heard of Spartan crisp-ology before.
There is a cryptographer I've worked with at the Foundation; we often shared research and discussed the latest developments in the field.
You'd probably be familiar with the name, Enig—
Oi, stuff a sock in all that egghead talk, will you? I get enough of it at work.
Domitius returns the group to more pressing concerns.
But how did this strange creature even know what a scytale is? Pendoros promised us that it was a closely guarded secret of the Spartans!
How in the name of Zeus and all Olympia could you have found out?
The man's voice cracks and fades as he cries out, at last crashing back in his cell from shock and exhaustion.
With a little more time, I do believe he might figure out we're time travelers.
All the better that he's insensible now—I salute your commitment to keeping our secret, Mr. Domitius.
Of course. Learning that the file was a scytale was just the beginning.
It's one thing to know of the existence of a cipher and another to know how to read its code.
Regulus approaches the man and offers a comforting pat on his shoulder.
... Don't be down, mate. Just think, your name is going to live on in legends told by the rocking-est bards around!
O sing a song of Domitius, a man who's just and wise♪ Who unmasked the darkest schemes and guided the Eagle Bearer to her prize♪
Regulus is, predictably, completely off-key, leading her friends to respond with playful laughter.
Just think of the rewards that Perikles will bestow on you for saving him.
Enough! Enough—
Just let me die in here! I'm worm food either way!
9. A Day in Athens
72 linesLively songs float across the open ground, while wine jugs and sacrifices are raised, weaving their way through the colorful crowd.
A scene only recorded in ancient tomes and murals now comes alive before my eyes ...
Merely on the merits of historical research alone, the invention of Huygens-Fresnel Interferometer is truly miraculous!
Looks like X will have a permanent guinea pig for this experiment of his.
Most certainly.
Just don't forget to bring us along, eh?
Because after this, I'm not letting you leave my sight. No matter if you head to a robotics lab or the dark side of the moon!
As they cheer and laugh, Perikles ascends the central stage and begins a speech.
Fellow Athenians and distinguished friends from every polis—
It is with great joy that we gathered here to mark the beginning of the Dionysia.
Tragedy—is an eternal art form that speaks an enduring truth, and just as it endures, so too shall our civilization.
Let no man, no foe, strip us of the right to bask in its timeless beauty.
We do not bow to fear or menace, nor to any enemy, be they known or unknown.
Below the stage, Kassandra wraps up the scytale and stores it away.
When the Great Dionysos arrives, the Owl of Athena will whisper,
as Deimos descends into the mortal world.
Could Alexios ... No, Deimos, really stand such a provocation?
The Spear of Leonidas is gripped in her hand as Ikaros soars above the venue.
Kassandra's search doesn't take long. Her target presents himself just beyond the plaza's entrance.
Protect Perikles!!
I cannot believe what has become of you ...
You've arrived much faster than I thought, misthios.
I should have known better than to trust in that secret code.
He raises the Sword of Damokles high. Its cold, sharp reflection casting halos in the sunlight.
Do not get in my way! I will deal with you once I have Perikles's head.
Deimos, leave the misthios to us. Perikles must be slain!
Black-clad warriors rush out from the crowd; they cast off their robes to reveal dark armor that glints under the sun.
You will not run from me again.
Kassandra lifts her spear, her body tensing as she readies for the fight to come.
Our war ends today.
You are not alone, Misthios.
Battle cries erupt from all across the festival grounds.
Malaka! Our plan has been discovered! Domitius betrayed us!
The cultist curses as the Evzoni form up their lines.
There is no end to the punishment that awaits him!
Calm down, Orestēs! Have faith in the Sage's plans. These brutes stand no chance against our numbers!
Kill them all!
The panicked, scattering crowd only adds to the chaos of the situation.
Made worse by the growing number of cultists that join the fray, keeping the Evzoni divided.
Kassandra! These cultists are hiding among the civilians; we cannot hope to keep the Strategos safe here.
Get Perikles to safety!
Protect yourselves first.
...
You've done all that you could to prevent this, Kassandra. It was my hubris that led us to hold the Dionysia. I must accept my fate.
Alexios ascends the stage confidently casting aside the remaining Evzoni. His sword humming in his hand.
Fate, indeed. Your fate is already foretold, old man. We have arranged each and every moment.
Do you think knowing our plan would be enough to stop it?
Look at the death you have brought on your own people ...
The chaos of the fighting has grown into a wild pandemonium.
SAVE YOURSELVES! RUN!!!
What's all the fuss?
Get out of my way, foreigner! I'm not going to die in this place!
Panicked festival goers are rushing around the plaza in every direction, complicating the battle even further.
Hold on, madam, you're headed the wrong way!
I'm not leaving! If we let the Dionysia end this way, it will surely bring his wrath down on Athens!
I fear the gods more than I fear the blades of men!
Regulus, Mr. APPLe, we need to help Kassandra.
What's your plan then? Because I don't see a way to get through that bloody mosh pit!
Not that I've ever been to a gig with this many swords.
Maybe not, but there might be some value in looking at this in the same way as one might manage a rowdy music festival.
Even the wildest crowd can be swayed by the right performance.
She scans the chaotic scene; spying dramatic masks, wreaths of grapevines and ivy, golden statues of gods and heroes, and altars laden with offerings.
The problem is, what would get their attention? A story maybe ... one of Dionysos's legends, or maybe a crowd-pleasing epic ...
Vertin, if you're in need of some historical suggestions, this APPLe is ready to assist.
His offer of support rings like a melody in her ears. But it's his appearance that gives her an idea.
...!
Yes, Mr. APPLe, I do believe YOU are exactly what I need.
Wait, now hold on! Will either of you tell me why you've decided to gild me ... again!?
I'll ask you to stop wriggling, Mr. APPLe. This paint is all we've got left from making our masks.
Fab! Oh, but you missed a spot, a little more gold over here, please!
10. Ode to the Golden Apple
75 linesA song descends from Olympus,
Of an apple gold as the sun.
For secrets held in Hesperides bough,
Stirs to conflict the fairest and foul.
Must I really be up so high, Captain? Between the thin air and the fumes from this paint, I'm beginning to feel woozy.
<notShowInLog>Must I really be up so high, Captain? Between the thin air and the fumes from this paint, I'm beginning to feel woozy.
Well, whose fault is that for shaking off your old coat?
Though you do look smashing in gold, mate!
Mr. APPLe, are you high enough to be visible to the crowd?
... I'm bloody well high enough to be sick.
Excellent, good luck!
Hello, Athens! Allow me to direct your eyes to the skies!
By Zeus—is that a golden apple?!
An offering like that might convince the gods to cleanse our city of its sorrow and pain ...
Oi! Wouldn't you like to be the first one to have their mitts on it? Too bad, I'm getting to it first!
<notShowInLog>Oi! Wouldn't you like to be the first one to have their mitts on it? Too bad, I'm getting to it first!
We must offer that apple to the great Dionysos!
After her! Don't let that strange foreigner steal our golden apple!
The crowd has emptied from the square, chasing the golden apple as it floats away. Those that remain here have only one purpose and are eager to return to it.
...
Alexios's sight is still fixed on the strange fruit as it disappears into the distance. Slowly, he returns his eyes back to the fight before him.
I don't know by what means you've done this, but don't presume it changes anything.
Let's put these tricks aside, Kassandra.
Kassandra's knuckles turn white from her tightened grip.
This isn't what I want, Alexios. We are family.
But it is what I want.
Sword meets spear in a shower of sparks; their battle has begun.
Clang! The Sword of Damokles is sent out from Deimos's hand, and beside it a broken spear is pierced into the soft ground.
Impossible ...
Nothing is impossible. Not even redemption.
Kassandra's voice is winded but calm. She braces her stance as her legs shake from exhaustion.
You have a chance to choose another path, Alexios.
Bury the name "Deimos" and return to who you really are, brother.
Put the past aside, and you may still have a chance to best me in the future.
He reaches for the sword, breathing deep against the pain, but then as an eagle retracts his talons, he sheathes it.
You will never know a moment of peace, sister. I will kill you and all you hold dear.
Retreat!
Smoke bombs erupt across the plaza as the cultists flee in every direction.
As the clangor of battle fades at last, Perikles emerges from behind a pillar.
You've saved me, Eagle Bearer, and indeed all of Athens.
We cannot be hasty in claiming victory, Perikles. The enemy is not yet defeated.
My brother will return.
She presses her hands on her temple, feeling the dull throb of her adrenaline.
The fates will bring what they will, but for now the battle is won, my friend.
Athens will survive another day, thanks to you.
I have done my duty as a misthios, nothing more. Besides—
I said that my services would cost you.
Of course. On matters of payment, my honor is unwavering.
But for now, you must rest until you can make your way to Kos Island to see Hippokrates about your injuries. The journey ahead is long, but they say his skills surpass even Apollo's ... Oh, and on the subject of the gods.
Yes?
Perikles looks out at the horizon.
What is the nature of that talking apple that appeared over the plaza? Could it be the same golden apple spoken of in myth?
She stretches out her sore muscles. As she does, a familiar bard appears, racing toward her with a joyful expression.
Oh, if it isn't my dear Kassandra. I wonder if you caught much of the ode I sang?
Euphonia? Well, I admit I've developed a new appreciation for your music ...
I won't be so stingy with my applause in the future.
Wonderful! Does that mean you'll finally let me compose a song about you, Kassandra?
No, not that. Never that.
A good mercenary tries to never reveal her weaknesses.
Now ... Have you seen our friends?
Ver-Vertin, how-how much longer ... until we can stop ... running?
I ca-can't go on much longer ...
Matching the concern, a nervous and sickly voice wafts down from the sky.
This APPLe is very much interested in your answer ...
Yet the frantic mob chasing them does not yet seem to have diminished.
Just hang in there.
Keep a stiff upper lip you two, and if all goes well, I'll make sure to requisition some sherry and Dr. Papper to celebrate.
And a whole bunch of records!