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>This is taking a bit longer than normal, since I am stunned with the majesty of HORSEQUEST, happening right next door...Take a peek, if you haven't yet.
Well, this has been an unsettling turn of conversation. You had hoped that Podageus would bring some levity to your evening, as a famed comedian and lover of humor, and he instead unburdened himself of a terrible tale of kinslaying (however justified), involving your late father. You have sometimes wondered about the connection between comedy and suffering yourself – you consider yourself to have a small talent for it, and you have experienced significant loss in your own life. Now that you consider it, the most insufferable suitors who came calling upon the οἶκος in years past were the prideful ones, having barely suffered any inconvenience at all. Of all these, only one of these suitors had really made any lasting impression, a brooding young nobleman from the Ionian Sea with dark hair and light eyes. He made only the barest attempt at gathering your attentions, when you were 14, and laughed in delight when you were enraged by his lack of effort…Funny, you can't seem to recall his name...
You suddenly realize that you had been lost in reverie – uncharacteristic of you. The moment of Podageus’ revelation has passed and he has moved on to discussions with Aristonax, Gerasimos, and Seisames – they now seem to be estimating King Peleus’ likely actions as the call of Atreides makes its way around Hellas, with some debate regarding the total number of hoplites
You notice the vagrant once again – unlike the other guests, he seems to have failed to make headway in conversation. He is staring aimlessly at the other guests of the audience with an vacant gleam in his eye, his hair still obviously damp from a much-needed bath; you suspect that he might be lost in his own thoughts as you had been previously. Driven by ξενία, and an honest desire to welcome him appropriately, you reach out to him, calling –
“Vagrant, please – if I might ask, what is your name? How did you come by the estates of Hippomedon?” Contrary to your expectation that he might be daydreaming, like you had been previously, he immediately responds, lilting oddly in stilting sing-song, and swaying gently in his seat.
“Noble Lady, I am called Abercion! You have treated me so well, so well…As to how I found your palace, why, I was looking for it, of course!” His mad eyes roll in his sockets, and he shrugs at you, a wildly exaggerated motion. This last statement catches you by surprise, and you immediately ask for clarification, concern welling up in your throat – have you misjudged him? Could he be dangerous?
