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It had been around a year since Damocles had been promoted to the coveted position of Captain of Magnemea, a rank and title that the silver-eyed man had long desired since his well-passed days beneath the simmering, shifting sands of Egypt. Given how predictably useless his previous superior had been, and the ineffective skills of those that tried to challenge him for the position, he had functioned as the acting leading officer of the Damned for a wide number of plentiful years before finally being promoted in-full. This perhaps explained why he had been so quick to get used to the position once rightfully awarded, for he was no stranger to its weight and responsibilities as someone that had held the title previously through a makeshift brevet.
Leadership came easy to him, given how with but mere words and simple orders he could whip his men into shape and have them do as he wished. Granted, in the span of a single year he had rid the Damned of any oppositional forces that might have stood against his willed, beck and call, but that had only been the first stage of his plans for the unit. There had still been much to be done, and many tiny details to finish so as to get that large, but woefully under-respected unit in proper fashion. Sure, he had received praise already for his brief tenure as an official Captain, but now was not the time to sit upon his laurels and loosen his grip over the men and women he had autocratically led. This was a matter of pride, or personal commitment to excellence and right, and he would have nothing short of perfection. Even if he had to drag the Damned kicking and screaming unto his projected future, Damocles would have his glory, and nobody would stand in his way.
Alas, even if none would stand in his way towards his gold-paved future, there had still been commitments and conventions he had to abide by, those unspecified gentlemen’s agreements that his position now demanded of him and by which he could not ignore. Well, he supposed that wasn’t entirely true. He did have the prerogative to shut his ears and turn the other cheek at his nominal colleagues’s calls for help, but what benefit would be gained by doing so? Better to feign faux friendship and camaraderie than to risk the unnecessary gamble and potentially lose out on building a solid foundation for that said future he still craved. Better to forge an allied connection that might grow into some profitable venture in the coming days than to lose out on a possible investment. And what a small investment it was.
Though command had naturally come to him, it seemed that the same was not true of all his fellow Drakos captains. As it were, his ostensive equal in Molossia had been unable to properly handle the affairs of his own province, leading to a rampant increase in wolf-related attacks in that barony. Damocles had long pondered on the circumstance, concluding that while he had tried to save face by asking him personally for his help, the state of affairs in that forested land had been less-than ideal and therefore a small bade for time would be more advantageous. This perception came to prove itself true, given the recent promotions and advertisements that Captain Orion had issued just a few days ago, causing the silver-eyed militant to reconsider the profits he could earn by intervening. He had never intended to renegade on the man’s request, but he had calculated a more advantageous gain from it than just simpering gratitude.
So he traveled to Molossia, leaving his affairs in order under the supervision of someone he could trust would not deviate from his agenda, sailing the brief trip over to the northern province. He still hadn’t felt comfortable leaving his forces in another’s hands, but that was the purpose of a lieutenant after all, so he should not have fretted too much about it anyways. Besides, based on his recollections, Molossia was an enchantingly quaint place, so of course he welcomed the opportunity to visit the place. It was true that he wasn’t going to spend much of his time sightseeing, but that still didn’t take away from the possibility once he had finished doing the other man’s job for him.
Upon arriving at the main settlement of the province, Damocles made his way to the spot that the advertisement had foretold, following instructions so as to make quick on this task and return to the madness that was Magnemea. He had predicted that a few new faces would already be in the spot already, given the hefty measure of the purse that had been promised, but when he turned up, there was but empty ghosts and silenced airs. Not a single person had shown up to help Orion. Damocles did not know whether to feel sorry for the man or not, seeing as his mess had gone mostly untendered to.
Nevertheless, this only meant that the bounty had not to be split much today. With a confident stride of his feet, the heavily armored Captain of Magnemea came upon a lonely writing desk and signed his name on the sheet, addressing himself on an nameless list so as to record his attendance and participation. He was ready to receive the information he needed to hunt the wolves, but a part of him thought it early still to go ahead and do so. There was still time for another to possibly show up. Who knows, maybe someone of interest might show up after all?.
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It had been around a year since Damocles had been promoted to the coveted position of Captain of Magnemea, a rank and title that the silver-eyed man had long desired since his well-passed days beneath the simmering, shifting sands of Egypt. Given how predictably useless his previous superior had been, and the ineffective skills of those that tried to challenge him for the position, he had functioned as the acting leading officer of the Damned for a wide number of plentiful years before finally being promoted in-full. This perhaps explained why he had been so quick to get used to the position once rightfully awarded, for he was no stranger to its weight and responsibilities as someone that had held the title previously through a makeshift brevet.
Leadership came easy to him, given how with but mere words and simple orders he could whip his men into shape and have them do as he wished. Granted, in the span of a single year he had rid the Damned of any oppositional forces that might have stood against his willed, beck and call, but that had only been the first stage of his plans for the unit. There had still been much to be done, and many tiny details to finish so as to get that large, but woefully under-respected unit in proper fashion. Sure, he had received praise already for his brief tenure as an official Captain, but now was not the time to sit upon his laurels and loosen his grip over the men and women he had autocratically led. This was a matter of pride, or personal commitment to excellence and right, and he would have nothing short of perfection. Even if he had to drag the Damned kicking and screaming unto his projected future, Damocles would have his glory, and nobody would stand in his way.
Alas, even if none would stand in his way towards his gold-paved future, there had still been commitments and conventions he had to abide by, those unspecified gentlemen’s agreements that his position now demanded of him and by which he could not ignore. Well, he supposed that wasn’t entirely true. He did have the prerogative to shut his ears and turn the other cheek at his nominal colleagues’s calls for help, but what benefit would be gained by doing so? Better to feign faux friendship and camaraderie than to risk the unnecessary gamble and potentially lose out on building a solid foundation for that said future he still craved. Better to forge an allied connection that might grow into some profitable venture in the coming days than to lose out on a possible investment. And what a small investment it was.
Though command had naturally come to him, it seemed that the same was not true of all his fellow Drakos captains. As it were, his ostensive equal in Molossia had been unable to properly handle the affairs of his own province, leading to a rampant increase in wolf-related attacks in that barony. Damocles had long pondered on the circumstance, concluding that while he had tried to save face by asking him personally for his help, the state of affairs in that forested land had been less-than ideal and therefore a small bade for time would be more advantageous. This perception came to prove itself true, given the recent promotions and advertisements that Captain Orion had issued just a few days ago, causing the silver-eyed militant to reconsider the profits he could earn by intervening. He had never intended to renegade on the man’s request, but he had calculated a more advantageous gain from it than just simpering gratitude.
So he traveled to Molossia, leaving his affairs in order under the supervision of someone he could trust would not deviate from his agenda, sailing the brief trip over to the northern province. He still hadn’t felt comfortable leaving his forces in another’s hands, but that was the purpose of a lieutenant after all, so he should not have fretted too much about it anyways. Besides, based on his recollections, Molossia was an enchantingly quaint place, so of course he welcomed the opportunity to visit the place. It was true that he wasn’t going to spend much of his time sightseeing, but that still didn’t take away from the possibility once he had finished doing the other man’s job for him.
Upon arriving at the main settlement of the province, Damocles made his way to the spot that the advertisement had foretold, following instructions so as to make quick on this task and return to the madness that was Magnemea. He had predicted that a few new faces would already be in the spot already, given the hefty measure of the purse that had been promised, but when he turned up, there was but empty ghosts and silenced airs. Not a single person had shown up to help Orion. Damocles did not know whether to feel sorry for the man or not, seeing as his mess had gone mostly untendered to.
Nevertheless, this only meant that the bounty had not to be split much today. With a confident stride of his feet, the heavily armored Captain of Magnemea came upon a lonely writing desk and signed his name on the sheet, addressing himself on an nameless list so as to record his attendance and participation. He was ready to receive the information he needed to hunt the wolves, but a part of him thought it early still to go ahead and do so. There was still time for another to possibly show up. Who knows, maybe someone of interest might show up after all?.
It had been around a year since Damocles had been promoted to the coveted position of Captain of Magnemea, a rank and title that the silver-eyed man had long desired since his well-passed days beneath the simmering, shifting sands of Egypt. Given how predictably useless his previous superior had been, and the ineffective skills of those that tried to challenge him for the position, he had functioned as the acting leading officer of the Damned for a wide number of plentiful years before finally being promoted in-full. This perhaps explained why he had been so quick to get used to the position once rightfully awarded, for he was no stranger to its weight and responsibilities as someone that had held the title previously through a makeshift brevet.
Leadership came easy to him, given how with but mere words and simple orders he could whip his men into shape and have them do as he wished. Granted, in the span of a single year he had rid the Damned of any oppositional forces that might have stood against his willed, beck and call, but that had only been the first stage of his plans for the unit. There had still been much to be done, and many tiny details to finish so as to get that large, but woefully under-respected unit in proper fashion. Sure, he had received praise already for his brief tenure as an official Captain, but now was not the time to sit upon his laurels and loosen his grip over the men and women he had autocratically led. This was a matter of pride, or personal commitment to excellence and right, and he would have nothing short of perfection. Even if he had to drag the Damned kicking and screaming unto his projected future, Damocles would have his glory, and nobody would stand in his way.
Alas, even if none would stand in his way towards his gold-paved future, there had still been commitments and conventions he had to abide by, those unspecified gentlemen’s agreements that his position now demanded of him and by which he could not ignore. Well, he supposed that wasn’t entirely true. He did have the prerogative to shut his ears and turn the other cheek at his nominal colleagues’s calls for help, but what benefit would be gained by doing so? Better to feign faux friendship and camaraderie than to risk the unnecessary gamble and potentially lose out on building a solid foundation for that said future he still craved. Better to forge an allied connection that might grow into some profitable venture in the coming days than to lose out on a possible investment. And what a small investment it was.
Though command had naturally come to him, it seemed that the same was not true of all his fellow Drakos captains. As it were, his ostensive equal in Molossia had been unable to properly handle the affairs of his own province, leading to a rampant increase in wolf-related attacks in that barony. Damocles had long pondered on the circumstance, concluding that while he had tried to save face by asking him personally for his help, the state of affairs in that forested land had been less-than ideal and therefore a small bade for time would be more advantageous. This perception came to prove itself true, given the recent promotions and advertisements that Captain Orion had issued just a few days ago, causing the silver-eyed militant to reconsider the profits he could earn by intervening. He had never intended to renegade on the man’s request, but he had calculated a more advantageous gain from it than just simpering gratitude.
So he traveled to Molossia, leaving his affairs in order under the supervision of someone he could trust would not deviate from his agenda, sailing the brief trip over to the northern province. He still hadn’t felt comfortable leaving his forces in another’s hands, but that was the purpose of a lieutenant after all, so he should not have fretted too much about it anyways. Besides, based on his recollections, Molossia was an enchantingly quaint place, so of course he welcomed the opportunity to visit the place. It was true that he wasn’t going to spend much of his time sightseeing, but that still didn’t take away from the possibility once he had finished doing the other man’s job for him.
Upon arriving at the main settlement of the province, Damocles made his way to the spot that the advertisement had foretold, following instructions so as to make quick on this task and return to the madness that was Magnemea. He had predicted that a few new faces would already be in the spot already, given the hefty measure of the purse that had been promised, but when he turned up, there was but empty ghosts and silenced airs. Not a single person had shown up to help Orion. Damocles did not know whether to feel sorry for the man or not, seeing as his mess had gone mostly untendered to.
Nevertheless, this only meant that the bounty had not to be split much today. With a confident stride of his feet, the heavily armored Captain of Magnemea came upon a lonely writing desk and signed his name on the sheet, addressing himself on an nameless list so as to record his attendance and participation. He was ready to receive the information he needed to hunt the wolves, but a part of him thought it early still to go ahead and do so. There was still time for another to possibly show up. Who knows, maybe someone of interest might show up after all?.
Thrasius felt that it must have been luck that such things would line up this way. His wife was working else where for the day, meaning she would have no idea what he was going to do. Surely she would stop him from such a dangerous hunt, and aside from that, it meant he could put the money away with his stash, savings he was keeping to buy them a farm when they were too advanced in age to continue with their current lifestyle, a stash that his wife did not know about. On top of that, it was lucky that he was even in the area to begin with.
He had arrived early, and hidden his horse away a distance from the spot where potential hunters were supposed to meet. No one had been there yet, so Thras had found his way into the wooded area, not going far, simply doing a bit of scouting. He kept his bow in his hands and ready, just in case the wolves decided to get the jump on him.
He was just coming out of the trees when he spotted another man standing there, seemingly waiting for others to show up.
“Hello there.” He called out as he approached, his leg already throbbing a little just from the journey so far, but he did not let it show and he would not let the injury stop him. If nothing else, Thrasius was a man who was determined not to let a childhood accident get in the way of his life.
“You must be here for the hunt.” He said, slinging his bow on his back for the moment to offer a hand out to the other man to shake as he introduced himself.
“Thrasius of Aetaea, you can call me Thras.” He said, then looked around. It didn’t seem like anyone else was planning on showing up.
“I was just doing a bit of scouting. I have a good idea of which way the wolves have travelled the most recently. I figured that was a good place to start and track, we should be able to find fresher tracks from there.” He said, pointing in the direction he had come from.
He assumed that this man would want to work together and split the bounty, though he could be wrong. Perhaps this man would decided he was better off on his own and try to collect the money for himself, which would also be fine. Having spent nearly half his life wandering the wilderness as a nomad, and the other half hunting to feed his family, Thrasius was more than confident in his tracking and hunting abilities. He would happily split the large bounty with this other man if he so wished, otherwise he would go and take the beasts for himself.
“If we are to hunt, we should get moving. Don’t want to get caught out there in the dark with these wolves, never mind what other animals might be lurking in the wild.” He said, turning and heading back towards the trees he had come from, slipping his bow from his back and back into his hands as he did so. The other man could choose whether he would follow or not.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Thrasius felt that it must have been luck that such things would line up this way. His wife was working else where for the day, meaning she would have no idea what he was going to do. Surely she would stop him from such a dangerous hunt, and aside from that, it meant he could put the money away with his stash, savings he was keeping to buy them a farm when they were too advanced in age to continue with their current lifestyle, a stash that his wife did not know about. On top of that, it was lucky that he was even in the area to begin with.
He had arrived early, and hidden his horse away a distance from the spot where potential hunters were supposed to meet. No one had been there yet, so Thras had found his way into the wooded area, not going far, simply doing a bit of scouting. He kept his bow in his hands and ready, just in case the wolves decided to get the jump on him.
He was just coming out of the trees when he spotted another man standing there, seemingly waiting for others to show up.
“Hello there.” He called out as he approached, his leg already throbbing a little just from the journey so far, but he did not let it show and he would not let the injury stop him. If nothing else, Thrasius was a man who was determined not to let a childhood accident get in the way of his life.
“You must be here for the hunt.” He said, slinging his bow on his back for the moment to offer a hand out to the other man to shake as he introduced himself.
“Thrasius of Aetaea, you can call me Thras.” He said, then looked around. It didn’t seem like anyone else was planning on showing up.
“I was just doing a bit of scouting. I have a good idea of which way the wolves have travelled the most recently. I figured that was a good place to start and track, we should be able to find fresher tracks from there.” He said, pointing in the direction he had come from.
He assumed that this man would want to work together and split the bounty, though he could be wrong. Perhaps this man would decided he was better off on his own and try to collect the money for himself, which would also be fine. Having spent nearly half his life wandering the wilderness as a nomad, and the other half hunting to feed his family, Thrasius was more than confident in his tracking and hunting abilities. He would happily split the large bounty with this other man if he so wished, otherwise he would go and take the beasts for himself.
“If we are to hunt, we should get moving. Don’t want to get caught out there in the dark with these wolves, never mind what other animals might be lurking in the wild.” He said, turning and heading back towards the trees he had come from, slipping his bow from his back and back into his hands as he did so. The other man could choose whether he would follow or not.
Thrasius felt that it must have been luck that such things would line up this way. His wife was working else where for the day, meaning she would have no idea what he was going to do. Surely she would stop him from such a dangerous hunt, and aside from that, it meant he could put the money away with his stash, savings he was keeping to buy them a farm when they were too advanced in age to continue with their current lifestyle, a stash that his wife did not know about. On top of that, it was lucky that he was even in the area to begin with.
He had arrived early, and hidden his horse away a distance from the spot where potential hunters were supposed to meet. No one had been there yet, so Thras had found his way into the wooded area, not going far, simply doing a bit of scouting. He kept his bow in his hands and ready, just in case the wolves decided to get the jump on him.
He was just coming out of the trees when he spotted another man standing there, seemingly waiting for others to show up.
“Hello there.” He called out as he approached, his leg already throbbing a little just from the journey so far, but he did not let it show and he would not let the injury stop him. If nothing else, Thrasius was a man who was determined not to let a childhood accident get in the way of his life.
“You must be here for the hunt.” He said, slinging his bow on his back for the moment to offer a hand out to the other man to shake as he introduced himself.
“Thrasius of Aetaea, you can call me Thras.” He said, then looked around. It didn’t seem like anyone else was planning on showing up.
“I was just doing a bit of scouting. I have a good idea of which way the wolves have travelled the most recently. I figured that was a good place to start and track, we should be able to find fresher tracks from there.” He said, pointing in the direction he had come from.
He assumed that this man would want to work together and split the bounty, though he could be wrong. Perhaps this man would decided he was better off on his own and try to collect the money for himself, which would also be fine. Having spent nearly half his life wandering the wilderness as a nomad, and the other half hunting to feed his family, Thrasius was more than confident in his tracking and hunting abilities. He would happily split the large bounty with this other man if he so wished, otherwise he would go and take the beasts for himself.
“If we are to hunt, we should get moving. Don’t want to get caught out there in the dark with these wolves, never mind what other animals might be lurking in the wild.” He said, turning and heading back towards the trees he had come from, slipping his bow from his back and back into his hands as he did so. The other man could choose whether he would follow or not.
Damocles was just about to give up on the venture organized by the militants of Molossia. Far too much time had been wasted on nothingstance, causing the armored soldier to come to regard the whole thing as a veritable waste of his own personal resources. Perhaps, if he turned around and returned to the province’s harbor in brief he would be able to request immediate return to Magnemea. Gods knew that place would be useless without his presence making sure that all the moving parts kept their gears in motion. Still, even if he returned immediately, he would have wasted his day on nonsense travel arrangements and useless losses on his own investment. This was not how things were supposed to work, and it was obvious from the way that the darkly layered veteran crossed his arms, that he was not pleased at all.
Yet, much to his surprise, another person had appeared, igniting a sense of curiosity in the predictably bored Colchian. A voice, cheerful and welcoming in its masculine tone, revealed the person of another man, one who was taller than most men and beholden to a strong, muscular built that denoted experience in one form of combat at least. Objectively, he was a handsome man, what with his light green eyes, short -cropped brown hair and oddly amusing, wide smile. Yet, his looks and air of comforting cordiality did not stop Damocles from looking at the one aspect of his appearance that stood out the most, aside from the ring on his finger which signaled at marriage. Though his left leg was fine, the cheerful man’s right leg was strapped to some sort of device, a kind of brace, figured the oddly interested Captain. It was obvious that the man had sustained some sort of injury that left him in need of such contraption, yet he knew better than to make a big deal out of such trivial things. If the man had appeared then it meant he was confident in his abilities to kill and fight, and as far as Damocles was concerned, that was all that mattered.
“Greetings Friend!” answered the Colchian as he instinctively shook the other’s hand and returned his friendly smile with one of his own, channeling as much warmth and pleasantry as he could muster on that moment. “I am Damocles of Magnemean, Captain of the Damned.” He introduced with a grin on his bearded face that was meant to transmit gregariousness. “Though, you can put aside the bloody titles and just call me Damo!” he returned in kind, reflecting the other’s offer of a shortened version of his name, in addition to a simple, albeit direct lighthearted jab at his own station in an effort at self-deprecating humor.
After hearing the other’s full name, he picked upped on Thrasius’s province of birth. As far as he could recall, Aetaea had been a land of Athenia, though he knew very little of that kingdom, much less about that barony in particular. Nevertheless, it was not entirely common to see an Athenian outside of Midas. Most of those that came usually stayed in the capital or in some other land, like Illythia or Oreboea.
“Hmm, that’s quite an astute observation. Very well, lead the way comrade!” Complimented Damocles as he allowed himself to lower himself and his ego, thus giving the Athenian a way to take charge for now. “I agree, there is little point in us going over formalities. Are you good to fight?” The question was not necessarily aimed at the state of affairs of Thrasius’s leg, but rather his inclination to start their trek through the dense woodlands of Molossia. “It is not the first time I’ve been on these lands, and my memory still serves me well. What do you say about a small alliance? I’m sure that with your tracking skills and my knowledge of this place we’ll be done before Artemis’s gaze falls upon us.” He offered, giving chase to the man as he too proceeded to enter the woods with his trusty shield slung on his back and his spear firmly grasped on his hands.
It really could not be underestimated that, despite the approximate time towards nightfall, Molossia was not a breathtakingly beautiful place. With great, big trees locking into full bloom and fields of verdurous grass dotting the landscape, one could come to appreciate the province as one that was far-removed from the usually rugged terrain of Colchis. He was quite entranced by the sights before him, taking it all in before focusing on the task at hand. Still, though he appreciated the pleasant, chilled air and general pleasantness of the surrounding woodlands, Damocles was not one for silent endeavors, much less hunts. Thus, with the same curiosity that had taken hold of him before, he roused his voice and addressed his companion for now.
“You are from Athenia correct? If I recall Aetaea is from that kingdom. Tell me friend, what brings you to Colchis? Surely it’s not the food, haha.” He asked in an attempt to break the metaphorical ice between them in an effort at camaraderie. He made a small, light-hearted joke once more, all in an effort to see whether or not humor would be a tool he could use to align himself with Thrasius.
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Damocles was just about to give up on the venture organized by the militants of Molossia. Far too much time had been wasted on nothingstance, causing the armored soldier to come to regard the whole thing as a veritable waste of his own personal resources. Perhaps, if he turned around and returned to the province’s harbor in brief he would be able to request immediate return to Magnemea. Gods knew that place would be useless without his presence making sure that all the moving parts kept their gears in motion. Still, even if he returned immediately, he would have wasted his day on nonsense travel arrangements and useless losses on his own investment. This was not how things were supposed to work, and it was obvious from the way that the darkly layered veteran crossed his arms, that he was not pleased at all.
Yet, much to his surprise, another person had appeared, igniting a sense of curiosity in the predictably bored Colchian. A voice, cheerful and welcoming in its masculine tone, revealed the person of another man, one who was taller than most men and beholden to a strong, muscular built that denoted experience in one form of combat at least. Objectively, he was a handsome man, what with his light green eyes, short -cropped brown hair and oddly amusing, wide smile. Yet, his looks and air of comforting cordiality did not stop Damocles from looking at the one aspect of his appearance that stood out the most, aside from the ring on his finger which signaled at marriage. Though his left leg was fine, the cheerful man’s right leg was strapped to some sort of device, a kind of brace, figured the oddly interested Captain. It was obvious that the man had sustained some sort of injury that left him in need of such contraption, yet he knew better than to make a big deal out of such trivial things. If the man had appeared then it meant he was confident in his abilities to kill and fight, and as far as Damocles was concerned, that was all that mattered.
“Greetings Friend!” answered the Colchian as he instinctively shook the other’s hand and returned his friendly smile with one of his own, channeling as much warmth and pleasantry as he could muster on that moment. “I am Damocles of Magnemean, Captain of the Damned.” He introduced with a grin on his bearded face that was meant to transmit gregariousness. “Though, you can put aside the bloody titles and just call me Damo!” he returned in kind, reflecting the other’s offer of a shortened version of his name, in addition to a simple, albeit direct lighthearted jab at his own station in an effort at self-deprecating humor.
After hearing the other’s full name, he picked upped on Thrasius’s province of birth. As far as he could recall, Aetaea had been a land of Athenia, though he knew very little of that kingdom, much less about that barony in particular. Nevertheless, it was not entirely common to see an Athenian outside of Midas. Most of those that came usually stayed in the capital or in some other land, like Illythia or Oreboea.
“Hmm, that’s quite an astute observation. Very well, lead the way comrade!” Complimented Damocles as he allowed himself to lower himself and his ego, thus giving the Athenian a way to take charge for now. “I agree, there is little point in us going over formalities. Are you good to fight?” The question was not necessarily aimed at the state of affairs of Thrasius’s leg, but rather his inclination to start their trek through the dense woodlands of Molossia. “It is not the first time I’ve been on these lands, and my memory still serves me well. What do you say about a small alliance? I’m sure that with your tracking skills and my knowledge of this place we’ll be done before Artemis’s gaze falls upon us.” He offered, giving chase to the man as he too proceeded to enter the woods with his trusty shield slung on his back and his spear firmly grasped on his hands.
It really could not be underestimated that, despite the approximate time towards nightfall, Molossia was not a breathtakingly beautiful place. With great, big trees locking into full bloom and fields of verdurous grass dotting the landscape, one could come to appreciate the province as one that was far-removed from the usually rugged terrain of Colchis. He was quite entranced by the sights before him, taking it all in before focusing on the task at hand. Still, though he appreciated the pleasant, chilled air and general pleasantness of the surrounding woodlands, Damocles was not one for silent endeavors, much less hunts. Thus, with the same curiosity that had taken hold of him before, he roused his voice and addressed his companion for now.
“You are from Athenia correct? If I recall Aetaea is from that kingdom. Tell me friend, what brings you to Colchis? Surely it’s not the food, haha.” He asked in an attempt to break the metaphorical ice between them in an effort at camaraderie. He made a small, light-hearted joke once more, all in an effort to see whether or not humor would be a tool he could use to align himself with Thrasius.
Damocles was just about to give up on the venture organized by the militants of Molossia. Far too much time had been wasted on nothingstance, causing the armored soldier to come to regard the whole thing as a veritable waste of his own personal resources. Perhaps, if he turned around and returned to the province’s harbor in brief he would be able to request immediate return to Magnemea. Gods knew that place would be useless without his presence making sure that all the moving parts kept their gears in motion. Still, even if he returned immediately, he would have wasted his day on nonsense travel arrangements and useless losses on his own investment. This was not how things were supposed to work, and it was obvious from the way that the darkly layered veteran crossed his arms, that he was not pleased at all.
Yet, much to his surprise, another person had appeared, igniting a sense of curiosity in the predictably bored Colchian. A voice, cheerful and welcoming in its masculine tone, revealed the person of another man, one who was taller than most men and beholden to a strong, muscular built that denoted experience in one form of combat at least. Objectively, he was a handsome man, what with his light green eyes, short -cropped brown hair and oddly amusing, wide smile. Yet, his looks and air of comforting cordiality did not stop Damocles from looking at the one aspect of his appearance that stood out the most, aside from the ring on his finger which signaled at marriage. Though his left leg was fine, the cheerful man’s right leg was strapped to some sort of device, a kind of brace, figured the oddly interested Captain. It was obvious that the man had sustained some sort of injury that left him in need of such contraption, yet he knew better than to make a big deal out of such trivial things. If the man had appeared then it meant he was confident in his abilities to kill and fight, and as far as Damocles was concerned, that was all that mattered.
“Greetings Friend!” answered the Colchian as he instinctively shook the other’s hand and returned his friendly smile with one of his own, channeling as much warmth and pleasantry as he could muster on that moment. “I am Damocles of Magnemean, Captain of the Damned.” He introduced with a grin on his bearded face that was meant to transmit gregariousness. “Though, you can put aside the bloody titles and just call me Damo!” he returned in kind, reflecting the other’s offer of a shortened version of his name, in addition to a simple, albeit direct lighthearted jab at his own station in an effort at self-deprecating humor.
After hearing the other’s full name, he picked upped on Thrasius’s province of birth. As far as he could recall, Aetaea had been a land of Athenia, though he knew very little of that kingdom, much less about that barony in particular. Nevertheless, it was not entirely common to see an Athenian outside of Midas. Most of those that came usually stayed in the capital or in some other land, like Illythia or Oreboea.
“Hmm, that’s quite an astute observation. Very well, lead the way comrade!” Complimented Damocles as he allowed himself to lower himself and his ego, thus giving the Athenian a way to take charge for now. “I agree, there is little point in us going over formalities. Are you good to fight?” The question was not necessarily aimed at the state of affairs of Thrasius’s leg, but rather his inclination to start their trek through the dense woodlands of Molossia. “It is not the first time I’ve been on these lands, and my memory still serves me well. What do you say about a small alliance? I’m sure that with your tracking skills and my knowledge of this place we’ll be done before Artemis’s gaze falls upon us.” He offered, giving chase to the man as he too proceeded to enter the woods with his trusty shield slung on his back and his spear firmly grasped on his hands.
It really could not be underestimated that, despite the approximate time towards nightfall, Molossia was not a breathtakingly beautiful place. With great, big trees locking into full bloom and fields of verdurous grass dotting the landscape, one could come to appreciate the province as one that was far-removed from the usually rugged terrain of Colchis. He was quite entranced by the sights before him, taking it all in before focusing on the task at hand. Still, though he appreciated the pleasant, chilled air and general pleasantness of the surrounding woodlands, Damocles was not one for silent endeavors, much less hunts. Thus, with the same curiosity that had taken hold of him before, he roused his voice and addressed his companion for now.
“You are from Athenia correct? If I recall Aetaea is from that kingdom. Tell me friend, what brings you to Colchis? Surely it’s not the food, haha.” He asked in an attempt to break the metaphorical ice between them in an effort at camaraderie. He made a small, light-hearted joke once more, all in an effort to see whether or not humor would be a tool he could use to align himself with Thrasius.
“Very nice to meet you C-” He started, then grinned when he caught himself. “Damo.” He said. It felt weird to call a man with a title by a nickname, but if it was what he preferred, who was he to argue. As long as he wasn’t going to be upset by the use of the nickname and the forgoing of his title, that was fine with him.
“I’m not a man of the sword nor spear, but there isn’t a target I can’t hit with Sotera here.” He stated, patting the bow as he stated its name when Damocles asked if he was good to fight. He didn’t plan on letting the animals get close enough for it to matter, and hey he supposed now that the other man was here, if they did get close enough, the Captain could deal with them. It seemed like a pretty good partnership to Thrasius.
As they started their trek into the woods, Thras gave a friendly laugh.
“I think teaming up is a good idea.” He agreed. “The quicker we get this done, the quicker we have the bounty in our hands and the less likely we are to be eaten by a bear.” He teased, though there was no fear in his voice. Thrasius was no stranger to the woods, maybe not these ones specifically. But his life had been woods and wildlife, it was home to him really.
He fell silent then, his eyes and ears scanning the forest for clues to the wolves whereabouts, determining where they had been, which tracks were theirs and which tracks belonged to other wildlife. He knew the forests and animals that called the forests home better than he knew even himself. This was second nature to the man.
Apparently his company was not the silent hunter type, which was fine. Thras could still track visually and listen in between conversation. He didn’t think the wolves would be scared off by them. The only worry he really had was if they heard them before Thras caught wind of them, they would likely attack. But that was something to be dealt with if the time came he supposed.
“You are correct.” He stated when the other asked about his origins.
“My wife and I are nomadic. We’ve been travelling through the lands of Greece, and Colchis was next on the list, so here we are.” He explained, looking over at the other with a friendly smile before turning his attention back to tracking and not tripping in the underbrush.
“We do odd jobs for money when we need to, such as this bounty. The money from this, even split in half with you, will last us a number of months easily.” He said, not ashamed of the fact that he didn’t have much for money. There was much more to life than money. As long as he had Lais by his side, he was happy with his life. The money would come one way or another when they needed it. It wasn’t as if they were starving or anything of the sort. For Thras, they had everything they would ever need.
“What brings a Captain out to do such a job?” he asked curiously, assuming that he would have had more important things to deal with.
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“Very nice to meet you C-” He started, then grinned when he caught himself. “Damo.” He said. It felt weird to call a man with a title by a nickname, but if it was what he preferred, who was he to argue. As long as he wasn’t going to be upset by the use of the nickname and the forgoing of his title, that was fine with him.
“I’m not a man of the sword nor spear, but there isn’t a target I can’t hit with Sotera here.” He stated, patting the bow as he stated its name when Damocles asked if he was good to fight. He didn’t plan on letting the animals get close enough for it to matter, and hey he supposed now that the other man was here, if they did get close enough, the Captain could deal with them. It seemed like a pretty good partnership to Thrasius.
As they started their trek into the woods, Thras gave a friendly laugh.
“I think teaming up is a good idea.” He agreed. “The quicker we get this done, the quicker we have the bounty in our hands and the less likely we are to be eaten by a bear.” He teased, though there was no fear in his voice. Thrasius was no stranger to the woods, maybe not these ones specifically. But his life had been woods and wildlife, it was home to him really.
He fell silent then, his eyes and ears scanning the forest for clues to the wolves whereabouts, determining where they had been, which tracks were theirs and which tracks belonged to other wildlife. He knew the forests and animals that called the forests home better than he knew even himself. This was second nature to the man.
Apparently his company was not the silent hunter type, which was fine. Thras could still track visually and listen in between conversation. He didn’t think the wolves would be scared off by them. The only worry he really had was if they heard them before Thras caught wind of them, they would likely attack. But that was something to be dealt with if the time came he supposed.
“You are correct.” He stated when the other asked about his origins.
“My wife and I are nomadic. We’ve been travelling through the lands of Greece, and Colchis was next on the list, so here we are.” He explained, looking over at the other with a friendly smile before turning his attention back to tracking and not tripping in the underbrush.
“We do odd jobs for money when we need to, such as this bounty. The money from this, even split in half with you, will last us a number of months easily.” He said, not ashamed of the fact that he didn’t have much for money. There was much more to life than money. As long as he had Lais by his side, he was happy with his life. The money would come one way or another when they needed it. It wasn’t as if they were starving or anything of the sort. For Thras, they had everything they would ever need.
“What brings a Captain out to do such a job?” he asked curiously, assuming that he would have had more important things to deal with.
“Very nice to meet you C-” He started, then grinned when he caught himself. “Damo.” He said. It felt weird to call a man with a title by a nickname, but if it was what he preferred, who was he to argue. As long as he wasn’t going to be upset by the use of the nickname and the forgoing of his title, that was fine with him.
“I’m not a man of the sword nor spear, but there isn’t a target I can’t hit with Sotera here.” He stated, patting the bow as he stated its name when Damocles asked if he was good to fight. He didn’t plan on letting the animals get close enough for it to matter, and hey he supposed now that the other man was here, if they did get close enough, the Captain could deal with them. It seemed like a pretty good partnership to Thrasius.
As they started their trek into the woods, Thras gave a friendly laugh.
“I think teaming up is a good idea.” He agreed. “The quicker we get this done, the quicker we have the bounty in our hands and the less likely we are to be eaten by a bear.” He teased, though there was no fear in his voice. Thrasius was no stranger to the woods, maybe not these ones specifically. But his life had been woods and wildlife, it was home to him really.
He fell silent then, his eyes and ears scanning the forest for clues to the wolves whereabouts, determining where they had been, which tracks were theirs and which tracks belonged to other wildlife. He knew the forests and animals that called the forests home better than he knew even himself. This was second nature to the man.
Apparently his company was not the silent hunter type, which was fine. Thras could still track visually and listen in between conversation. He didn’t think the wolves would be scared off by them. The only worry he really had was if they heard them before Thras caught wind of them, they would likely attack. But that was something to be dealt with if the time came he supposed.
“You are correct.” He stated when the other asked about his origins.
“My wife and I are nomadic. We’ve been travelling through the lands of Greece, and Colchis was next on the list, so here we are.” He explained, looking over at the other with a friendly smile before turning his attention back to tracking and not tripping in the underbrush.
“We do odd jobs for money when we need to, such as this bounty. The money from this, even split in half with you, will last us a number of months easily.” He said, not ashamed of the fact that he didn’t have much for money. There was much more to life than money. As long as he had Lais by his side, he was happy with his life. The money would come one way or another when they needed it. It wasn’t as if they were starving or anything of the sort. For Thras, they had everything they would ever need.
“What brings a Captain out to do such a job?” he asked curiously, assuming that he would have had more important things to deal with.
“Sotera eh?” repeated Damocles through a raised eyebrow and an amused expression on his face that sorted out his interest and the humor he found in that lighthearted confession of naming a weapon with a name. In his experience, most people had a sour, dull existance and seldom gave names to the tools of their trade. It was not a matter of childish naivetee he thought, but rather a small token of appreciation that just added a tiny bit of humor and style to things.
“Well, I am pleased that I am not the only man who names his weapons too.” He smiled, raising the shield on his arm slightly to bring attention to it. “Sidiros” he said with a friendly look on his symmetrical face, referring to the trusted shield that had been his trusted companion for a couple years now. It might’ve been a bit on the outdated side, but he still figured that his trusty shield would still endure further yet.
It dawned on the veteran militant that between their was a potentially strong combination of sorts. As far as he could tell, Thrasius seemed to be an archer, which was the field of combat that the Magnemean felt awkwardly uncomfortable around. If push came to shove he might have been able to shoot something dead after several, abortive tries, but he was aware of his limitations when it came to the bow and arrow. “I concur, about the teaming up idea. No doubt with inclination for long-range fighting and my preference for a more up close and personal approach we’ll be able to cover each other’s bases rather well.” He agreed, finding that perhaps, this day might not have been as squandered as he may have had initially thought.
“Oh? And here I thought I was accompanied by some sort of archer in the mold of Apollo himself! Don’t tell me you’re scared of some dumb bear.” Teased Damocles back with a smirk on his face and a raised eyebrow that reflected the jest back at the other so as to spark a bit of a laugh between them. “How about this. If we do come to wrestle with one of those dumb beasties, I’ll square our first round of drinks later on after we get our money, mmh?” promised the taller of the two as he casually invited the other for a bit of some nighttime revelry.
Damocles was by his very nature not a silent man, and oftentimes found better concentration when he had another to keep up with him. Perhaps, that explained why, despite their conversation and banter, Damocles noticed the treck of pawprints in the ground, clearly the mark of some four-legged creature of sorts, most likely canine in origin. “Hold that thought Thrasius…”he said, gesturing for the other to stop as he heard a subtle rustle over through one of the bushes not more than a couple of feet away from him. Instinctively, Damocles put some distance between them and lowered his shield on the ground, for it weighed him down and he would have to make due with his shot. The arrow and bow might not have been his weapon of choice, but he knew how to throw a spear rather well. And so, without thinking it twice, and without making much of a sound as he body lunged forward and swung his arm at the direction of the bush, his fingers loosened on the wooden shaft and the pointed weapon flew silently but precisely, pining itself forcefully against a tree behind the bushes after a dying whimper revealed his instinct to be true.
“One down, I’d say about six to go.” Judged Damocles as he smirked at his accomplishment and returned to his more active side. He was quick to go towards the tree that held the tip of his spear, and was pleased with himself as the accumulation of his warrior intuition payed off. “I may be horrible with the bow and arrow, but I think my throwing hand is pretty good.” He laughed as he retreated the spear and witnessed the carcass. “What do you say about this? Odd little thing. As far as I recalled, wolves travel in packs, not alone.” He observed, suspecting that perhaps, not all was right in that one specific moment right there.
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“Sotera eh?” repeated Damocles through a raised eyebrow and an amused expression on his face that sorted out his interest and the humor he found in that lighthearted confession of naming a weapon with a name. In his experience, most people had a sour, dull existance and seldom gave names to the tools of their trade. It was not a matter of childish naivetee he thought, but rather a small token of appreciation that just added a tiny bit of humor and style to things.
“Well, I am pleased that I am not the only man who names his weapons too.” He smiled, raising the shield on his arm slightly to bring attention to it. “Sidiros” he said with a friendly look on his symmetrical face, referring to the trusted shield that had been his trusted companion for a couple years now. It might’ve been a bit on the outdated side, but he still figured that his trusty shield would still endure further yet.
It dawned on the veteran militant that between their was a potentially strong combination of sorts. As far as he could tell, Thrasius seemed to be an archer, which was the field of combat that the Magnemean felt awkwardly uncomfortable around. If push came to shove he might have been able to shoot something dead after several, abortive tries, but he was aware of his limitations when it came to the bow and arrow. “I concur, about the teaming up idea. No doubt with inclination for long-range fighting and my preference for a more up close and personal approach we’ll be able to cover each other’s bases rather well.” He agreed, finding that perhaps, this day might not have been as squandered as he may have had initially thought.
“Oh? And here I thought I was accompanied by some sort of archer in the mold of Apollo himself! Don’t tell me you’re scared of some dumb bear.” Teased Damocles back with a smirk on his face and a raised eyebrow that reflected the jest back at the other so as to spark a bit of a laugh between them. “How about this. If we do come to wrestle with one of those dumb beasties, I’ll square our first round of drinks later on after we get our money, mmh?” promised the taller of the two as he casually invited the other for a bit of some nighttime revelry.
Damocles was by his very nature not a silent man, and oftentimes found better concentration when he had another to keep up with him. Perhaps, that explained why, despite their conversation and banter, Damocles noticed the treck of pawprints in the ground, clearly the mark of some four-legged creature of sorts, most likely canine in origin. “Hold that thought Thrasius…”he said, gesturing for the other to stop as he heard a subtle rustle over through one of the bushes not more than a couple of feet away from him. Instinctively, Damocles put some distance between them and lowered his shield on the ground, for it weighed him down and he would have to make due with his shot. The arrow and bow might not have been his weapon of choice, but he knew how to throw a spear rather well. And so, without thinking it twice, and without making much of a sound as he body lunged forward and swung his arm at the direction of the bush, his fingers loosened on the wooden shaft and the pointed weapon flew silently but precisely, pining itself forcefully against a tree behind the bushes after a dying whimper revealed his instinct to be true.
“One down, I’d say about six to go.” Judged Damocles as he smirked at his accomplishment and returned to his more active side. He was quick to go towards the tree that held the tip of his spear, and was pleased with himself as the accumulation of his warrior intuition payed off. “I may be horrible with the bow and arrow, but I think my throwing hand is pretty good.” He laughed as he retreated the spear and witnessed the carcass. “What do you say about this? Odd little thing. As far as I recalled, wolves travel in packs, not alone.” He observed, suspecting that perhaps, not all was right in that one specific moment right there.
“Sotera eh?” repeated Damocles through a raised eyebrow and an amused expression on his face that sorted out his interest and the humor he found in that lighthearted confession of naming a weapon with a name. In his experience, most people had a sour, dull existance and seldom gave names to the tools of their trade. It was not a matter of childish naivetee he thought, but rather a small token of appreciation that just added a tiny bit of humor and style to things.
“Well, I am pleased that I am not the only man who names his weapons too.” He smiled, raising the shield on his arm slightly to bring attention to it. “Sidiros” he said with a friendly look on his symmetrical face, referring to the trusted shield that had been his trusted companion for a couple years now. It might’ve been a bit on the outdated side, but he still figured that his trusty shield would still endure further yet.
It dawned on the veteran militant that between their was a potentially strong combination of sorts. As far as he could tell, Thrasius seemed to be an archer, which was the field of combat that the Magnemean felt awkwardly uncomfortable around. If push came to shove he might have been able to shoot something dead after several, abortive tries, but he was aware of his limitations when it came to the bow and arrow. “I concur, about the teaming up idea. No doubt with inclination for long-range fighting and my preference for a more up close and personal approach we’ll be able to cover each other’s bases rather well.” He agreed, finding that perhaps, this day might not have been as squandered as he may have had initially thought.
“Oh? And here I thought I was accompanied by some sort of archer in the mold of Apollo himself! Don’t tell me you’re scared of some dumb bear.” Teased Damocles back with a smirk on his face and a raised eyebrow that reflected the jest back at the other so as to spark a bit of a laugh between them. “How about this. If we do come to wrestle with one of those dumb beasties, I’ll square our first round of drinks later on after we get our money, mmh?” promised the taller of the two as he casually invited the other for a bit of some nighttime revelry.
Damocles was by his very nature not a silent man, and oftentimes found better concentration when he had another to keep up with him. Perhaps, that explained why, despite their conversation and banter, Damocles noticed the treck of pawprints in the ground, clearly the mark of some four-legged creature of sorts, most likely canine in origin. “Hold that thought Thrasius…”he said, gesturing for the other to stop as he heard a subtle rustle over through one of the bushes not more than a couple of feet away from him. Instinctively, Damocles put some distance between them and lowered his shield on the ground, for it weighed him down and he would have to make due with his shot. The arrow and bow might not have been his weapon of choice, but he knew how to throw a spear rather well. And so, without thinking it twice, and without making much of a sound as he body lunged forward and swung his arm at the direction of the bush, his fingers loosened on the wooden shaft and the pointed weapon flew silently but precisely, pining itself forcefully against a tree behind the bushes after a dying whimper revealed his instinct to be true.
“One down, I’d say about six to go.” Judged Damocles as he smirked at his accomplishment and returned to his more active side. He was quick to go towards the tree that held the tip of his spear, and was pleased with himself as the accumulation of his warrior intuition payed off. “I may be horrible with the bow and arrow, but I think my throwing hand is pretty good.” He laughed as he retreated the spear and witnessed the carcass. “What do you say about this? Odd little thing. As far as I recalled, wolves travel in packs, not alone.” He observed, suspecting that perhaps, not all was right in that one specific moment right there.