Quoted By:
The bust of the old man flies through the air – it spins upon its axis in flight, a white blur streaking towards the head of your opponent.
He is mid-declaration when it strikes him –
<span class="mu-i">“Dove man, hoe heet je? Je ziet eruit als het doelwit van mijn vader - we jagen op de koning van Ith –“</span>
The results are ugly – his brazen helm collapses in on his skull, as the bust itself careens into the damp sands. The man’s face is pulverized, and he gives only one rattling exhalation as his arms and legs seize violently, spraying bone, blood and brains over his own bronze breastplate. His legs dance upon the sands for longer than you expect, but there's no doubt in your mind - the shade of the man is rocketing into Tartarus for the judgment of King Minos.
Leaping to the earth, you find Odysseus walking carefully with a flaming stick to the foreign vessel, shielding it from the breeze. He winks at you as he passes - “Creative of you, Nikandros! Once the ships are ablaze, I’ll help you strip the man’s armor from his shoulders!” He makes no reference to the fact that he clearly would have let you fight (and possibly die) against the enemy without assistance.
Irritating.
The fire aboard the first beached vessel quickly becomes a bonfire – it’s a trivial matter to set the other ship ablaze once you have ready access to an inferno. You stop to inquire why you haven’t raided the ships for wealth, but Odysseus answers your question before you can ask it:
“We haven’t the time to pillage these vessels properly, Thessalian, nor can we reasonably transfer the goods to our own ships fast enough – look there, along the coast – the enemy spearmen are nearly here!” And following Odysseus’ finger, you see that he is correct – perhaps five stadia distant, you see tiny figures moving along the hilltops. “We best move quickly.”
The stripping of the body is a rushed affair, made gruesome by the fact that Odysseus demands the total panoplia – removing the shattered head from the helm is a grotesque task. Nonetheless, you are pleased that you’ve won your first set of bronze armor upon the battlefield.
Odysseus claps on the shoulder for congratulations, and speaks –
“Well done, Thessalian! Menelaus will be pleased with this gift – I will speak on your behalf, and perhaps he will grant you your preferred portion of the panoplia!” You groan – as a rural lord of Thessaly, all Timae earned on the battlefield was yours alone, but this is not so when traveling with nobility of a higher station. A heavy tax on your earnings must be paid, in keeping with their noble peerage. For now, there is nothing to be done – you must comply. Putting the realities of your service aside, you navigate the promontory, and once back aboard the Spartan ship, Odysseus is quick to retell the tale of the beach raid as the galleys beat their way north, leaving the enemy behind...
>that's all for tonight, thanks for playing!
