>>5601791You haven’t lost yet. Yes, there is a fist-sized dent in your armor and every breath is a fresh agony, but you can’t possibly go down like this. Can you?
Diomedes sits behind his shield, eyeing you nonchalantly. Perhaps he expects you to yield?
You won’t. Lumbering forward, you prepare to thrust straight at his shield, hoping raw strength will-
Darkness.
…
Before you really wake up, you feel the headache. The aching, pounding pain that crushes every thought you have.
You’re in a bed. You’re also naked, although your chest is bound in cotton cloth tightly. You begin to sit up-
An even worse pain than what is in your head erupts from your chest. Just as quickly as you rise, you fall back down. How did you even end up like this? You don’t remember. You are unable to summon any memories of the last few days. You’re in Agamemnon’s palace. You… made some kind of deal, you think. The details are not forthcoming. Not through this pain, anyways.
>You’re concussed. You’re going to suffer a -2 to Willpower, Intelligence, and Charisma (the stats, not the boni) for a little while. A voice. A woman’s voice? A girl’s. You open your eyes and turn your head. The light hurts too, and your vision is blurred.
She’s wearing a veil. Black hair peaks through. Do you know her? No. She’s shorter than… her name, what was it… than Electra, the Crown-Princess. How is it that you know how tall Electra is? No matter. That means this is either Iphigeneia or Chrysothemis.
You try to call her. Gods, your mouth is dry. Luckily she detects the attempt anyways. She comes over to your side. Her hand grabs yours, totally dwarfed in size. It’s a soft thing.
“Lord Nikandros, you’re awake. We were beginning to worry you wouldn’t wake at all.” Her tone is soft and caring. She looks closer at your face.
“You must be thirsty. Give me a few minutes.” She slips her hand out of yours and leaves the room. Alone again.
You must have gotten into a fight. Lost one, more like. You’ve never lost consciousness in a fight before. Yet you live. A training bout then? What kind of monster could do this to you in a simple spar?
She returns, cup in hand. Tilting it over your mouth, you open your lips to accept the liquid. It’s a slow pour, slow enough that you don’t choke on it as it comes down. You drink and drink until it is empty.
The girl takes a seat near your bed. For a few minutes neither of you say anything. Your vision is steadily clearing up. Your throat also is no longer dry. You decide to try speaking again. The words come out roughly.
“What happened to me?” She takes her time with the response.
