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Rolled 6, 2, 18 = 26 (3d20)
The situation devolves further – Adrastus collects himself enough to swagger to Pronax in mock outrage, fists raised, but Pronax strikes first – launching off his heels to tackle Adrastus, his shoulder colliding with the bronze of Adrastus’ torso, solid contact!
“Come on, you fat bastard! I’ll take that crown for myself!” Pronax yells enthusiastically, clutching the sides of Adrastus’ bronze – hunting for handholds with which to toss him to the ground, feet scrabbling for purchase against the grassy field. Adrastus “the Unyielding” is well-named – rather than defend himself against the throw, he launches a volley of friendly hooks into Pronax’s kidneys even as he laughs loudly:
“Pronax, you ox! I’ll beat your ass today like I have for the last fifty years!”
You meet Mecisteus’ eye – each of you wearing bemused grins. Some things never change… You watch the sparring match with interest – Pronax seemingly content to let his brother smash his fists into his sides and broad back; Adrastus allowing Pronax to give his best effort to topple a king. As they struggle, the insults grow so creative that you’re reduced to tears once again – you must brace yourself against Mecisteus as you laugh, lest you fall down. After a minute or two, they separate breathlessly, offering up various crude explanations for each other’s lack of perceived manhood…
And then you hear indistinct shouts – looking out to the west, you see a single rider at speed, flying over the western fields. He waves a rod or a staff, hollering to get your attention. The rider gallops past the Tegean cattle herd, and pulls the reins sharply as he draws close enough for conversation. You don’t recognize him - the young man is in priestly robes, holding a thyrsus and grapevines interwoven in his braid – a devotee of Dionysus, you would guess. His face is pale and drawn – he spots you and cries in a panicked voice:
“Lord Hippomedon! You must come at once – it is your wife, Euanippe! She is atop the hill Larissa and something is wrong! She begs for your presence immediately!”
The man’s fear is palpable; the gaiety of the moment curdles. Icy anxiety grips your heart; you look to Adrastus for permission to leave – he nods grimly, an unreadable look in his eye, and gestures to Arion. In a moment, you sit upon the god-horse’s back once more. The hill Larissa rises before you to your right – you and the hill are on the same city of Argos, and the hill can ascended easily from the western side. Without a second thought, you kick your heels and Arion streaks forwards!
>okay, /qst/ - let’s see if you can make it in time! I need THREE rolls of dice+1d20+8 for Hippomedon’s ride check.
>I’m rolling for something myself…
