Quoted By:
Rolled 3, 16, 12 + 2 = 33 (3d20 + 2)
The cries of the commoners cut through the crash of battle and the raucous shouting of the Salaminians as they prepare for another volley of javelins against the pirates. It galls you, but the simple fact is this: the piercing cry of the women and children will haunt your dreams unless you move to deny them oblivion. You don’t know whether you are admirable or a fool, but you don’t time to consider further – the merchant vessel has begun to list, as water soaks into the open hold. You may have only minutes – or even less.
At the foredecks, you see Pollux, crouching low under his shield, even as Castor tends to the jutting arrow in his shoulder, worrying it loose from his divine flesh – you are tempted to render further aid, but it occurs to you that Pollux and Castor have survived many and more desperate battles than this.
At a glance, you take in the skirmish between the Salaminians and the pirates – hulking Ajax has imposed discipline on his countrymen, and they are tightly assembled in a modified phalanx, shield to shield, easily deflecting the errant spears returned to them by the pirates, who have failed to unite together properly. You quickly remove your crested helm and greaves, stashing them carefully underneath the nearest rowing bench – where is the pirate’s captain? How could he sit by and do nothing as his men are torn to shreds? You scoff at the pure inadequacy of your opponent – death is only fitting reward for such incompetence.
The majority of the enemy ship (stern now fully detached) and it is now drifting parallel to your own, the ships sidling against one another – you’ll never have a better chance to cross over. Sprinting thunderously toward the stern of the galley, you gain the momentum needed – and angling sharply to your right, you leap into the air, taking flight – you sail over the open sea, and stumble onto the enemy foredeck, spear and shield in hand.
You hear Ajax shouting to you in confusion – “Nikandros, what are you – <span class="mu-i">the ARCHER!</span> Shield high, Thessalian!” You spin without thinking, bringing your father’s shield up to protect your neck and head...
>players, give me three rolls of dice+1d20+4
