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The body of a young woman has been found strewn upon the open central market of Eubocris. Some time in the night, this dead body has been placed in a haphazard pose of disregard - as if she fell from a great height into the centre of the open space - and lies stripped naked upon the cold stone. Her hair is long and blonde, lying tumbling over the stones. On her forehead is a simple mark - that of a crescent moon. And in her mouth, the meaty appendage of some kind of animal...
The people of Eubocris wake to gather for their market day to find this abhorrent spectacle in the middle of their simple ways and happy times. Never has an event such as this befouled their streets. Just who is the girl? What was her crime? And who would punish another in so heathen a manner?
Event Ideas
-- Things that can be discovered about this girl with the right probing and interest are: 1. Her origin and occupation. This can be requested as a Curveball from our staff team as there is a plan behind this. 2. The item that is in her mouth. This is has also been planned and can be requested as a curveball as and when someone moved forward to investigate it.
-- In all other things, this Event is open to manipulation and suggestion. Ignoring the body, there could be other clues in the area that pertain to the criminal. Or there might be red-herrings that are found that lead you down the wrong path. You choose what your characters find.
-- This event is happening in the summer so the nights are short and the heat strong but Eubocris is at a high altitude and could still be fairly chilly. There is less likely to be a smell from the body.
-- The markings on the girl appear to hold meaning - most may assume this to be a message from the Gods or a challenge placed before them that they must solve or else risk the Gods' wrath. Others might think this to be the work of mortals.
-- All characters are free to take part in this event. Just because Eubocris is up in the heights doesn't mean other characters can't be there. Read the provincial description to familiarise yourself with what Eubocris sells and imports. Perhaps they went to visit a particular temple in the heights? Or an NPC friend or family member. Your character can easily be here if you want them to be. Characters that may wish to be more involved in this include: @timaeus , @silanos , @maleos , daxos but provincial stories are optional and anyone else can claim a place here if it makes sense in canon.
-- Or anything else! If you want to do something wild and wacky that makes sense in this event then go for it! You can use it for your own personal drama, start a cat fight, declare a rivalry, reveal a secret in public to all. You can use the NPC crowds and citizens as you like and come up with your own ways to make this Event fun and dramatic. Remember: there is no wrong way to do this. There is no plan. Just storm forward and go for it! Just remember to tag everyone who might be affected by your more curveball-y posts in the #roleplay-tags channel.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
The body of a young woman has been found strewn upon the open central market of Eubocris. Some time in the night, this dead body has been placed in a haphazard pose of disregard - as if she fell from a great height into the centre of the open space - and lies stripped naked upon the cold stone. Her hair is long and blonde, lying tumbling over the stones. On her forehead is a simple mark - that of a crescent moon. And in her mouth, the meaty appendage of some kind of animal...
The people of Eubocris wake to gather for their market day to find this abhorrent spectacle in the middle of their simple ways and happy times. Never has an event such as this befouled their streets. Just who is the girl? What was her crime? And who would punish another in so heathen a manner?
Event Ideas
-- Things that can be discovered about this girl with the right probing and interest are: 1. Her origin and occupation. This can be requested as a Curveball from our staff team as there is a plan behind this. 2. The item that is in her mouth. This is has also been planned and can be requested as a curveball as and when someone moved forward to investigate it.
-- In all other things, this Event is open to manipulation and suggestion. Ignoring the body, there could be other clues in the area that pertain to the criminal. Or there might be red-herrings that are found that lead you down the wrong path. You choose what your characters find.
-- This event is happening in the summer so the nights are short and the heat strong but Eubocris is at a high altitude and could still be fairly chilly. There is less likely to be a smell from the body.
-- The markings on the girl appear to hold meaning - most may assume this to be a message from the Gods or a challenge placed before them that they must solve or else risk the Gods' wrath. Others might think this to be the work of mortals.
-- All characters are free to take part in this event. Just because Eubocris is up in the heights doesn't mean other characters can't be there. Read the provincial description to familiarise yourself with what Eubocris sells and imports. Perhaps they went to visit a particular temple in the heights? Or an NPC friend or family member. Your character can easily be here if you want them to be. Characters that may wish to be more involved in this include: @timaeus , @silanos , @maleos , daxos but provincial stories are optional and anyone else can claim a place here if it makes sense in canon.
-- Or anything else! If you want to do something wild and wacky that makes sense in this event then go for it! You can use it for your own personal drama, start a cat fight, declare a rivalry, reveal a secret in public to all. You can use the NPC crowds and citizens as you like and come up with your own ways to make this Event fun and dramatic. Remember: there is no wrong way to do this. There is no plan. Just storm forward and go for it! Just remember to tag everyone who might be affected by your more curveball-y posts in the #roleplay-tags channel.
Artemis' Honour Provincial Story - Colchis
The body of a young woman has been found strewn upon the open central market of Eubocris. Some time in the night, this dead body has been placed in a haphazard pose of disregard - as if she fell from a great height into the centre of the open space - and lies stripped naked upon the cold stone. Her hair is long and blonde, lying tumbling over the stones. On her forehead is a simple mark - that of a crescent moon. And in her mouth, the meaty appendage of some kind of animal...
The people of Eubocris wake to gather for their market day to find this abhorrent spectacle in the middle of their simple ways and happy times. Never has an event such as this befouled their streets. Just who is the girl? What was her crime? And who would punish another in so heathen a manner?
Event Ideas
-- Things that can be discovered about this girl with the right probing and interest are: 1. Her origin and occupation. This can be requested as a Curveball from our staff team as there is a plan behind this. 2. The item that is in her mouth. This is has also been planned and can be requested as a curveball as and when someone moved forward to investigate it.
-- In all other things, this Event is open to manipulation and suggestion. Ignoring the body, there could be other clues in the area that pertain to the criminal. Or there might be red-herrings that are found that lead you down the wrong path. You choose what your characters find.
-- This event is happening in the summer so the nights are short and the heat strong but Eubocris is at a high altitude and could still be fairly chilly. There is less likely to be a smell from the body.
-- The markings on the girl appear to hold meaning - most may assume this to be a message from the Gods or a challenge placed before them that they must solve or else risk the Gods' wrath. Others might think this to be the work of mortals.
-- All characters are free to take part in this event. Just because Eubocris is up in the heights doesn't mean other characters can't be there. Read the provincial description to familiarise yourself with what Eubocris sells and imports. Perhaps they went to visit a particular temple in the heights? Or an NPC friend or family member. Your character can easily be here if you want them to be. Characters that may wish to be more involved in this include: @timaeus , @silanos , @maleos , daxos but provincial stories are optional and anyone else can claim a place here if it makes sense in canon.
-- Or anything else! If you want to do something wild and wacky that makes sense in this event then go for it! You can use it for your own personal drama, start a cat fight, declare a rivalry, reveal a secret in public to all. You can use the NPC crowds and citizens as you like and come up with your own ways to make this Event fun and dramatic. Remember: there is no wrong way to do this. There is no plan. Just storm forward and go for it! Just remember to tag everyone who might be affected by your more curveball-y posts in the #roleplay-tags channel.
Every time Celine and her family visited Eubocris, she dreaded it. She feared heights and everything about them. Eubocris, in the mountains, seemed to be nothing but heights. The altitude and the fact that the air could sometimes be colder than she was used to made it more difficult for her to breathe, and the footbridge frightened her at times, as well. But the province in the mountains also provided many fine textiles, in addition to being home to a few of her father's friends. It was to visit a friend of his that they went, and they had stayed until market day in order to get a good look at some of the better textiles that might make good court dresses for Celine and her sisters. Not that Celine actually cared about getting fabric for new dresses, but while she was here, she might as well have fun. Her birthday had actually been last month, but she felt reasonably sure she could coax her parents to buy her another gift if she saw the right thing. She was not usually so manipulative, but since this trip was usually hardest on her physically, she often felt that that should be worth...well... something. They weren't the ones who would have to visit the hot springs for health reasons next time they were in Midas!
Envying the other family members their relative health greatly at the moment, aside from Rhais' deafness, Celine shot Telemachus an icy glare as he tried to race ahead, leaving Celine and Rhais well behind the others. As usual, it seemed, she was ignored. She grit her teeth in frustration and trudged ahead, smiling thankfully at Rhais, who was across from Celine so that she could lip read. At least one other sibling knew how it felt to be ill and alone in one's illness....
Rhais shrugged as if it were nothing, though she smiled as best she could too. 'Come on, just a little further. Maybe there will be tea in one of the stalls.'
"Maybe." Celine whispered. Her nose could usually smell things like that, but maybe they weren't close enough to the center of the marketplace to smell everything yet.
By the time they were, though, Celine wished for the thousandth time that she would never have come to Eubocris, but not for any of the reasons she usually hated it.
None of those reasons involved a dead body. The young woman looked as though she had fallen quite a ways, and Celine shuddered involuntarily- that was one of her worst fears as well, ending up dead from a fall.
The family was silent, their minds in another place and time as they gathered with the other people in the marketplace. While Celine was the last of the family to lay eyes on the dead girl, she was the first of them to make a guess as to what the strange mark on her forehead might mean. She waved to her oldest sister, who, in Celine's mind, came running when Celine needed her, for once.
"Agnodice, you're going to be in the archery unit. Do they do that? The symbol, I mean. Like a club emblem?” she whispered. Being the daughter of a father involved in politics meant Celine knew some things that might or might not be appropriate for someone of her age, or for that matter, any girl. But nonetheless, she knew a little more of the ways of the world even than she had when she was ten.
Agnodice thought Celine was using the wrong word, but for once she took no pleasure in correcting her. ‘I think that might possibly be a cult.’ she whispered back.
Regardless of what her sister's answer would be- and honestly, she didn’t really care if the archery unit had a symbol or not-Celine was shivering from more than the cold mountain air now. But she breathed as deeply as she could manage and went to squeeze Rhais' hand. "Are you-?" she started.
Rhais nodded. 'Fine. You need tea.' Besides being a little wheezy, Celine had gone pale, and that had Rhais worried. The irony was that at times like this, Rhais, thirteen, felt like the big sister to Celine, not the other way around.
Celine needed much more than that. She needed the last few minutes to have never happened- all of them did. They had, though, and there was no turning back time.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Every time Celine and her family visited Eubocris, she dreaded it. She feared heights and everything about them. Eubocris, in the mountains, seemed to be nothing but heights. The altitude and the fact that the air could sometimes be colder than she was used to made it more difficult for her to breathe, and the footbridge frightened her at times, as well. But the province in the mountains also provided many fine textiles, in addition to being home to a few of her father's friends. It was to visit a friend of his that they went, and they had stayed until market day in order to get a good look at some of the better textiles that might make good court dresses for Celine and her sisters. Not that Celine actually cared about getting fabric for new dresses, but while she was here, she might as well have fun. Her birthday had actually been last month, but she felt reasonably sure she could coax her parents to buy her another gift if she saw the right thing. She was not usually so manipulative, but since this trip was usually hardest on her physically, she often felt that that should be worth...well... something. They weren't the ones who would have to visit the hot springs for health reasons next time they were in Midas!
Envying the other family members their relative health greatly at the moment, aside from Rhais' deafness, Celine shot Telemachus an icy glare as he tried to race ahead, leaving Celine and Rhais well behind the others. As usual, it seemed, she was ignored. She grit her teeth in frustration and trudged ahead, smiling thankfully at Rhais, who was across from Celine so that she could lip read. At least one other sibling knew how it felt to be ill and alone in one's illness....
Rhais shrugged as if it were nothing, though she smiled as best she could too. 'Come on, just a little further. Maybe there will be tea in one of the stalls.'
"Maybe." Celine whispered. Her nose could usually smell things like that, but maybe they weren't close enough to the center of the marketplace to smell everything yet.
By the time they were, though, Celine wished for the thousandth time that she would never have come to Eubocris, but not for any of the reasons she usually hated it.
None of those reasons involved a dead body. The young woman looked as though she had fallen quite a ways, and Celine shuddered involuntarily- that was one of her worst fears as well, ending up dead from a fall.
The family was silent, their minds in another place and time as they gathered with the other people in the marketplace. While Celine was the last of the family to lay eyes on the dead girl, she was the first of them to make a guess as to what the strange mark on her forehead might mean. She waved to her oldest sister, who, in Celine's mind, came running when Celine needed her, for once.
"Agnodice, you're going to be in the archery unit. Do they do that? The symbol, I mean. Like a club emblem?” she whispered. Being the daughter of a father involved in politics meant Celine knew some things that might or might not be appropriate for someone of her age, or for that matter, any girl. But nonetheless, she knew a little more of the ways of the world even than she had when she was ten.
Agnodice thought Celine was using the wrong word, but for once she took no pleasure in correcting her. ‘I think that might possibly be a cult.’ she whispered back.
Regardless of what her sister's answer would be- and honestly, she didn’t really care if the archery unit had a symbol or not-Celine was shivering from more than the cold mountain air now. But she breathed as deeply as she could manage and went to squeeze Rhais' hand. "Are you-?" she started.
Rhais nodded. 'Fine. You need tea.' Besides being a little wheezy, Celine had gone pale, and that had Rhais worried. The irony was that at times like this, Rhais, thirteen, felt like the big sister to Celine, not the other way around.
Celine needed much more than that. She needed the last few minutes to have never happened- all of them did. They had, though, and there was no turning back time.
Every time Celine and her family visited Eubocris, she dreaded it. She feared heights and everything about them. Eubocris, in the mountains, seemed to be nothing but heights. The altitude and the fact that the air could sometimes be colder than she was used to made it more difficult for her to breathe, and the footbridge frightened her at times, as well. But the province in the mountains also provided many fine textiles, in addition to being home to a few of her father's friends. It was to visit a friend of his that they went, and they had stayed until market day in order to get a good look at some of the better textiles that might make good court dresses for Celine and her sisters. Not that Celine actually cared about getting fabric for new dresses, but while she was here, she might as well have fun. Her birthday had actually been last month, but she felt reasonably sure she could coax her parents to buy her another gift if she saw the right thing. She was not usually so manipulative, but since this trip was usually hardest on her physically, she often felt that that should be worth...well... something. They weren't the ones who would have to visit the hot springs for health reasons next time they were in Midas!
Envying the other family members their relative health greatly at the moment, aside from Rhais' deafness, Celine shot Telemachus an icy glare as he tried to race ahead, leaving Celine and Rhais well behind the others. As usual, it seemed, she was ignored. She grit her teeth in frustration and trudged ahead, smiling thankfully at Rhais, who was across from Celine so that she could lip read. At least one other sibling knew how it felt to be ill and alone in one's illness....
Rhais shrugged as if it were nothing, though she smiled as best she could too. 'Come on, just a little further. Maybe there will be tea in one of the stalls.'
"Maybe." Celine whispered. Her nose could usually smell things like that, but maybe they weren't close enough to the center of the marketplace to smell everything yet.
By the time they were, though, Celine wished for the thousandth time that she would never have come to Eubocris, but not for any of the reasons she usually hated it.
None of those reasons involved a dead body. The young woman looked as though she had fallen quite a ways, and Celine shuddered involuntarily- that was one of her worst fears as well, ending up dead from a fall.
The family was silent, their minds in another place and time as they gathered with the other people in the marketplace. While Celine was the last of the family to lay eyes on the dead girl, she was the first of them to make a guess as to what the strange mark on her forehead might mean. She waved to her oldest sister, who, in Celine's mind, came running when Celine needed her, for once.
"Agnodice, you're going to be in the archery unit. Do they do that? The symbol, I mean. Like a club emblem?” she whispered. Being the daughter of a father involved in politics meant Celine knew some things that might or might not be appropriate for someone of her age, or for that matter, any girl. But nonetheless, she knew a little more of the ways of the world even than she had when she was ten.
Agnodice thought Celine was using the wrong word, but for once she took no pleasure in correcting her. ‘I think that might possibly be a cult.’ she whispered back.
Regardless of what her sister's answer would be- and honestly, she didn’t really care if the archery unit had a symbol or not-Celine was shivering from more than the cold mountain air now. But she breathed as deeply as she could manage and went to squeeze Rhais' hand. "Are you-?" she started.
Rhais nodded. 'Fine. You need tea.' Besides being a little wheezy, Celine had gone pale, and that had Rhais worried. The irony was that at times like this, Rhais, thirteen, felt like the big sister to Celine, not the other way around.
Celine needed much more than that. She needed the last few minutes to have never happened- all of them did. They had, though, and there was no turning back time.
As the young twenty-year-old rode up the thin mountain paths that separated Eubocris from the rest of Midas, he wasn’t sure what to think. Timaeus had mixed feelings about returning home to say the very least. After all, Eubocris was a place that he never thought that he would ever see again as he had every intention of never returning when he boarded Adre’s ship four years ago. He had believed that the vessel would take him far away from his dull life as a mountain boy and lead him to some far off land where he could spend his days adventuring and fighting, preferably without a single mountain in sight. For four years, he had had exactly that. He had sailed around the known realm with Adre and Sokari for four years, exploring what every turn in the road had to offer and finding a new adventure every day. Timaeus had run away from soldiers in the Valley of the Kings, danced in foreign courts, and had countless other excursions which have all now become nothing more than a memory. He was no longer on the road and it would be a long time before he would ever go out to sea again. Timaeus was home and this time he was here to stay.
Even though his mother was nothing short of delighted by his return, the boy could not say the same. He hated Colchis. He hated Eubocris. There was a reason why he chose to turn his back on the kingdom at the first opportunity, after all. The whole kingdom was stifling. Timaeus felt as if he couldn’t breathe in these mountains that penned him in. He was the type that needed to roam and explore. Timaeus simply couldn’t do that here in Eubocris. Not when he already knew the whole province like the back of his hand. It was boring, it was stale. He needed more from life than boring piles of rock.
As selfish and self-pitying as he was, Timaeus knew that his decision to return home was not one that was made lightly. He back here in Eubocris for a reason that extended beyond the scroll in his saddlebag, naming him the Captain of the Men of the Heights. Timaeus was home not because he wanted to be, but because his family needed him to be. His presence helped fill that gaping hole that had been left behind not only when he practically fled Colchis… but also the wound that had been left by his father’s death earlier that year. Timaeus was sparse on the details as it clearly very painful to all those who had to witness it, but from what he understood, it had been long and slow. Whatever disease had struck him down had stolen both his father’s strength and dignity as the man who used to teach his own boys how to spar and instilled in them the importance of physical prowess, couldn’t even sit up in his own bed in the morning. His eventually passing had been mercy from the fates and Timaeus had no idea that he was even sick, to begin with.
His desire to keep his adventurer’s life was so strong that anytime the boys were in Eubocris, Timaeus had obscured his identity and took every precaution to avoid the places his family would visit. In the process of avoiding them, he also skirted around any news regarding his ailing family. The first time he had learned that anything was amiss was a rumor skirting around the docks of Midas about this ‘new’ baron of Eubocris. Timaeus couldn’t even remember what it had been, truthfully. Whatever it had been, the mere mention of a new baron had been enough for Tim to lose his common sense for two minutes and race up to the upper levels, right back into the arms of his surprised brother who was luckily in Midas. What had followed was a tearful reunion and revelation that Nicomedes was now the Baron. Timaeus just couldn’t go back to sea after learning that his father had died. He just couldn’t.
That was why he was now back here, after four long years, instead of halfway across the Mediterranean with Adre and Sokari like he should have been. Instead of having no responsibilities, he was here to finally make good on the rank he had earned all those years ago after a rather arduous process in Midas of proving he was who he said he was and that he was indeed capable of taking up the traditional role as the Captain. It was by some stroke of luck that he had managed to do it, but it did help that Nico had held the position before him, meaning that it was a smooth transition of legal power… which could mean nothing to the men that had not trained with Timaeus and had last seen him trailing behind his uncle as a steward so he could jump straight into the rank of captain all those years ago. Timaeus already anticipated that the respect of these men would not be easily won over, especially when considering how poorly received the Valaoritis family was in the province, but if the hardened scowl plastered on his face was any indication as he turned off the final mountain path and through the square, it was a problem that Timaeus would easily handle. He was not going to roll over and play dead in the face of a few men who might not be happy that this little teenage runaway had stolen ‘their’ promotion. Not on Timaeus’s watch.
Even though this statement was something that he meant purely as a figure of speech, Timaeus soon realized that this was in very poor taste as he wandered upon a crowd that seemed to be gathered around something… Wandering closer, Timaeus had at first thought that maybe it was a scuffle or something, but the eerie silence was fairly unsettling to the twenty-year-old man. He finally understood why as he reached the back of the crowd still astride his warhorse, a gift from Nico. The equine was a beast, a stallion fit for a captain, and Timaeus had the advantage of height over all those who were merely on the ground. Even though he could not see the full body as he drew closer, he could see the corpse’s blonde hair, sticking out like a sore thumb against the harsh brown pebbles that made up the road.
In an instant, Timaeus dismounted from his horse and quickly shoved his way through the crowd, thinking that she was merely injured and everyone was failing to provide aid. He certainly wouldn’t put it past the people of his province given how dumb they were, clinging onto judgments from his family that had come from events that had occurred generations ago. It would be typical of them to stand and stare, being just as useful as the gossip that they shared standing around this poor girl. However, as soon as Timaeus broke through the crowd with rough shouts of “Out of my way!” He came across the harsh truth just like the rest of them, stunning him into silence as he sharply inhaled at the sight of her.
The girl was naked, lying on the cobble as if she had fallen from a great height and had landed in the market square below. Her body was so oddly splayed out that it seemed so unlikely that she was posed there. However, a disbelieving glance up told him that this had to be impossible. This part of the square was open. If she had jumped, it had to be from the top of one of the peaks zooming high above them. That was the only place that she could get high enough to splatter against the ground like this. But that was impossible. Even though it was the height of summer in Colchis and the heat in most of the kingdom was slowly cooking the population from the inside out, Eubocris was so high up that it felt more like a mildly warm spring day. The peaks of the mountains would be even colder and the air was likely to be so thin that even if this girl had never stepped foot outside of Eubocris once, she would suffocate upon the mountains… if the cold didn’t get her first judging by her naked body. Clearly, if she had fallen to her death, this wasn’t the place that this would have occurred.
Timaeus wasn’t thinking about this though as he came out of his shock and quickly stepped forward to take some action. Moving closer to the body, he was quick to yell at the stunned crowd, “Quick, someone fetch her a blanket!” Of course, given that she was dead, the girl would have no use for the warmth that such fabric would provide, but it would do her well to have some sort of garment to give her some sort of dignity in death. The Greeks, although rather free and open about these things in some regards, they were still rather prudish. Still unsure of what could have happened to her, Timaeus’s main concern was obscuring her shame and keeping everyone from gawking at the way she laid belly up on the pathway. When the brother of the Baron didn’t see anyone move fast enough, he was quick to also squawk, “Come on, move your asses! A blanket, quickly! What would the gods think of your staring?”
Hoping that this was enough to shame the people into either moving away or heading off in search of a blanket like the new captain demanded, Timaeus moved forward to the body and slowly lifted her to turn her face down so that some of her dignity would be covered. Had he not been fueled by some decent compassion for the poor girl, he would have realized what a poor decision this was. After all, it could be possible that she was placed here and now he was disrupting the scene that may have been left behind. If he was, he would have no idea as in his mission to roll her over, Timaeus paying little regard to two rather important clues that were carved into her forehead and stuffed within her mouth. Someone else would have to point these out to the noble lord or speak up quickly if they thought that it might be best that he didn’t disturb the body...
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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As the young twenty-year-old rode up the thin mountain paths that separated Eubocris from the rest of Midas, he wasn’t sure what to think. Timaeus had mixed feelings about returning home to say the very least. After all, Eubocris was a place that he never thought that he would ever see again as he had every intention of never returning when he boarded Adre’s ship four years ago. He had believed that the vessel would take him far away from his dull life as a mountain boy and lead him to some far off land where he could spend his days adventuring and fighting, preferably without a single mountain in sight. For four years, he had had exactly that. He had sailed around the known realm with Adre and Sokari for four years, exploring what every turn in the road had to offer and finding a new adventure every day. Timaeus had run away from soldiers in the Valley of the Kings, danced in foreign courts, and had countless other excursions which have all now become nothing more than a memory. He was no longer on the road and it would be a long time before he would ever go out to sea again. Timaeus was home and this time he was here to stay.
Even though his mother was nothing short of delighted by his return, the boy could not say the same. He hated Colchis. He hated Eubocris. There was a reason why he chose to turn his back on the kingdom at the first opportunity, after all. The whole kingdom was stifling. Timaeus felt as if he couldn’t breathe in these mountains that penned him in. He was the type that needed to roam and explore. Timaeus simply couldn’t do that here in Eubocris. Not when he already knew the whole province like the back of his hand. It was boring, it was stale. He needed more from life than boring piles of rock.
As selfish and self-pitying as he was, Timaeus knew that his decision to return home was not one that was made lightly. He back here in Eubocris for a reason that extended beyond the scroll in his saddlebag, naming him the Captain of the Men of the Heights. Timaeus was home not because he wanted to be, but because his family needed him to be. His presence helped fill that gaping hole that had been left behind not only when he practically fled Colchis… but also the wound that had been left by his father’s death earlier that year. Timaeus was sparse on the details as it clearly very painful to all those who had to witness it, but from what he understood, it had been long and slow. Whatever disease had struck him down had stolen both his father’s strength and dignity as the man who used to teach his own boys how to spar and instilled in them the importance of physical prowess, couldn’t even sit up in his own bed in the morning. His eventually passing had been mercy from the fates and Timaeus had no idea that he was even sick, to begin with.
His desire to keep his adventurer’s life was so strong that anytime the boys were in Eubocris, Timaeus had obscured his identity and took every precaution to avoid the places his family would visit. In the process of avoiding them, he also skirted around any news regarding his ailing family. The first time he had learned that anything was amiss was a rumor skirting around the docks of Midas about this ‘new’ baron of Eubocris. Timaeus couldn’t even remember what it had been, truthfully. Whatever it had been, the mere mention of a new baron had been enough for Tim to lose his common sense for two minutes and race up to the upper levels, right back into the arms of his surprised brother who was luckily in Midas. What had followed was a tearful reunion and revelation that Nicomedes was now the Baron. Timaeus just couldn’t go back to sea after learning that his father had died. He just couldn’t.
That was why he was now back here, after four long years, instead of halfway across the Mediterranean with Adre and Sokari like he should have been. Instead of having no responsibilities, he was here to finally make good on the rank he had earned all those years ago after a rather arduous process in Midas of proving he was who he said he was and that he was indeed capable of taking up the traditional role as the Captain. It was by some stroke of luck that he had managed to do it, but it did help that Nico had held the position before him, meaning that it was a smooth transition of legal power… which could mean nothing to the men that had not trained with Timaeus and had last seen him trailing behind his uncle as a steward so he could jump straight into the rank of captain all those years ago. Timaeus already anticipated that the respect of these men would not be easily won over, especially when considering how poorly received the Valaoritis family was in the province, but if the hardened scowl plastered on his face was any indication as he turned off the final mountain path and through the square, it was a problem that Timaeus would easily handle. He was not going to roll over and play dead in the face of a few men who might not be happy that this little teenage runaway had stolen ‘their’ promotion. Not on Timaeus’s watch.
Even though this statement was something that he meant purely as a figure of speech, Timaeus soon realized that this was in very poor taste as he wandered upon a crowd that seemed to be gathered around something… Wandering closer, Timaeus had at first thought that maybe it was a scuffle or something, but the eerie silence was fairly unsettling to the twenty-year-old man. He finally understood why as he reached the back of the crowd still astride his warhorse, a gift from Nico. The equine was a beast, a stallion fit for a captain, and Timaeus had the advantage of height over all those who were merely on the ground. Even though he could not see the full body as he drew closer, he could see the corpse’s blonde hair, sticking out like a sore thumb against the harsh brown pebbles that made up the road.
In an instant, Timaeus dismounted from his horse and quickly shoved his way through the crowd, thinking that she was merely injured and everyone was failing to provide aid. He certainly wouldn’t put it past the people of his province given how dumb they were, clinging onto judgments from his family that had come from events that had occurred generations ago. It would be typical of them to stand and stare, being just as useful as the gossip that they shared standing around this poor girl. However, as soon as Timaeus broke through the crowd with rough shouts of “Out of my way!” He came across the harsh truth just like the rest of them, stunning him into silence as he sharply inhaled at the sight of her.
The girl was naked, lying on the cobble as if she had fallen from a great height and had landed in the market square below. Her body was so oddly splayed out that it seemed so unlikely that she was posed there. However, a disbelieving glance up told him that this had to be impossible. This part of the square was open. If she had jumped, it had to be from the top of one of the peaks zooming high above them. That was the only place that she could get high enough to splatter against the ground like this. But that was impossible. Even though it was the height of summer in Colchis and the heat in most of the kingdom was slowly cooking the population from the inside out, Eubocris was so high up that it felt more like a mildly warm spring day. The peaks of the mountains would be even colder and the air was likely to be so thin that even if this girl had never stepped foot outside of Eubocris once, she would suffocate upon the mountains… if the cold didn’t get her first judging by her naked body. Clearly, if she had fallen to her death, this wasn’t the place that this would have occurred.
Timaeus wasn’t thinking about this though as he came out of his shock and quickly stepped forward to take some action. Moving closer to the body, he was quick to yell at the stunned crowd, “Quick, someone fetch her a blanket!” Of course, given that she was dead, the girl would have no use for the warmth that such fabric would provide, but it would do her well to have some sort of garment to give her some sort of dignity in death. The Greeks, although rather free and open about these things in some regards, they were still rather prudish. Still unsure of what could have happened to her, Timaeus’s main concern was obscuring her shame and keeping everyone from gawking at the way she laid belly up on the pathway. When the brother of the Baron didn’t see anyone move fast enough, he was quick to also squawk, “Come on, move your asses! A blanket, quickly! What would the gods think of your staring?”
Hoping that this was enough to shame the people into either moving away or heading off in search of a blanket like the new captain demanded, Timaeus moved forward to the body and slowly lifted her to turn her face down so that some of her dignity would be covered. Had he not been fueled by some decent compassion for the poor girl, he would have realized what a poor decision this was. After all, it could be possible that she was placed here and now he was disrupting the scene that may have been left behind. If he was, he would have no idea as in his mission to roll her over, Timaeus paying little regard to two rather important clues that were carved into her forehead and stuffed within her mouth. Someone else would have to point these out to the noble lord or speak up quickly if they thought that it might be best that he didn’t disturb the body...
As the young twenty-year-old rode up the thin mountain paths that separated Eubocris from the rest of Midas, he wasn’t sure what to think. Timaeus had mixed feelings about returning home to say the very least. After all, Eubocris was a place that he never thought that he would ever see again as he had every intention of never returning when he boarded Adre’s ship four years ago. He had believed that the vessel would take him far away from his dull life as a mountain boy and lead him to some far off land where he could spend his days adventuring and fighting, preferably without a single mountain in sight. For four years, he had had exactly that. He had sailed around the known realm with Adre and Sokari for four years, exploring what every turn in the road had to offer and finding a new adventure every day. Timaeus had run away from soldiers in the Valley of the Kings, danced in foreign courts, and had countless other excursions which have all now become nothing more than a memory. He was no longer on the road and it would be a long time before he would ever go out to sea again. Timaeus was home and this time he was here to stay.
Even though his mother was nothing short of delighted by his return, the boy could not say the same. He hated Colchis. He hated Eubocris. There was a reason why he chose to turn his back on the kingdom at the first opportunity, after all. The whole kingdom was stifling. Timaeus felt as if he couldn’t breathe in these mountains that penned him in. He was the type that needed to roam and explore. Timaeus simply couldn’t do that here in Eubocris. Not when he already knew the whole province like the back of his hand. It was boring, it was stale. He needed more from life than boring piles of rock.
As selfish and self-pitying as he was, Timaeus knew that his decision to return home was not one that was made lightly. He back here in Eubocris for a reason that extended beyond the scroll in his saddlebag, naming him the Captain of the Men of the Heights. Timaeus was home not because he wanted to be, but because his family needed him to be. His presence helped fill that gaping hole that had been left behind not only when he practically fled Colchis… but also the wound that had been left by his father’s death earlier that year. Timaeus was sparse on the details as it clearly very painful to all those who had to witness it, but from what he understood, it had been long and slow. Whatever disease had struck him down had stolen both his father’s strength and dignity as the man who used to teach his own boys how to spar and instilled in them the importance of physical prowess, couldn’t even sit up in his own bed in the morning. His eventually passing had been mercy from the fates and Timaeus had no idea that he was even sick, to begin with.
His desire to keep his adventurer’s life was so strong that anytime the boys were in Eubocris, Timaeus had obscured his identity and took every precaution to avoid the places his family would visit. In the process of avoiding them, he also skirted around any news regarding his ailing family. The first time he had learned that anything was amiss was a rumor skirting around the docks of Midas about this ‘new’ baron of Eubocris. Timaeus couldn’t even remember what it had been, truthfully. Whatever it had been, the mere mention of a new baron had been enough for Tim to lose his common sense for two minutes and race up to the upper levels, right back into the arms of his surprised brother who was luckily in Midas. What had followed was a tearful reunion and revelation that Nicomedes was now the Baron. Timaeus just couldn’t go back to sea after learning that his father had died. He just couldn’t.
That was why he was now back here, after four long years, instead of halfway across the Mediterranean with Adre and Sokari like he should have been. Instead of having no responsibilities, he was here to finally make good on the rank he had earned all those years ago after a rather arduous process in Midas of proving he was who he said he was and that he was indeed capable of taking up the traditional role as the Captain. It was by some stroke of luck that he had managed to do it, but it did help that Nico had held the position before him, meaning that it was a smooth transition of legal power… which could mean nothing to the men that had not trained with Timaeus and had last seen him trailing behind his uncle as a steward so he could jump straight into the rank of captain all those years ago. Timaeus already anticipated that the respect of these men would not be easily won over, especially when considering how poorly received the Valaoritis family was in the province, but if the hardened scowl plastered on his face was any indication as he turned off the final mountain path and through the square, it was a problem that Timaeus would easily handle. He was not going to roll over and play dead in the face of a few men who might not be happy that this little teenage runaway had stolen ‘their’ promotion. Not on Timaeus’s watch.
Even though this statement was something that he meant purely as a figure of speech, Timaeus soon realized that this was in very poor taste as he wandered upon a crowd that seemed to be gathered around something… Wandering closer, Timaeus had at first thought that maybe it was a scuffle or something, but the eerie silence was fairly unsettling to the twenty-year-old man. He finally understood why as he reached the back of the crowd still astride his warhorse, a gift from Nico. The equine was a beast, a stallion fit for a captain, and Timaeus had the advantage of height over all those who were merely on the ground. Even though he could not see the full body as he drew closer, he could see the corpse’s blonde hair, sticking out like a sore thumb against the harsh brown pebbles that made up the road.
In an instant, Timaeus dismounted from his horse and quickly shoved his way through the crowd, thinking that she was merely injured and everyone was failing to provide aid. He certainly wouldn’t put it past the people of his province given how dumb they were, clinging onto judgments from his family that had come from events that had occurred generations ago. It would be typical of them to stand and stare, being just as useful as the gossip that they shared standing around this poor girl. However, as soon as Timaeus broke through the crowd with rough shouts of “Out of my way!” He came across the harsh truth just like the rest of them, stunning him into silence as he sharply inhaled at the sight of her.
The girl was naked, lying on the cobble as if she had fallen from a great height and had landed in the market square below. Her body was so oddly splayed out that it seemed so unlikely that she was posed there. However, a disbelieving glance up told him that this had to be impossible. This part of the square was open. If she had jumped, it had to be from the top of one of the peaks zooming high above them. That was the only place that she could get high enough to splatter against the ground like this. But that was impossible. Even though it was the height of summer in Colchis and the heat in most of the kingdom was slowly cooking the population from the inside out, Eubocris was so high up that it felt more like a mildly warm spring day. The peaks of the mountains would be even colder and the air was likely to be so thin that even if this girl had never stepped foot outside of Eubocris once, she would suffocate upon the mountains… if the cold didn’t get her first judging by her naked body. Clearly, if she had fallen to her death, this wasn’t the place that this would have occurred.
Timaeus wasn’t thinking about this though as he came out of his shock and quickly stepped forward to take some action. Moving closer to the body, he was quick to yell at the stunned crowd, “Quick, someone fetch her a blanket!” Of course, given that she was dead, the girl would have no use for the warmth that such fabric would provide, but it would do her well to have some sort of garment to give her some sort of dignity in death. The Greeks, although rather free and open about these things in some regards, they were still rather prudish. Still unsure of what could have happened to her, Timaeus’s main concern was obscuring her shame and keeping everyone from gawking at the way she laid belly up on the pathway. When the brother of the Baron didn’t see anyone move fast enough, he was quick to also squawk, “Come on, move your asses! A blanket, quickly! What would the gods think of your staring?”
Hoping that this was enough to shame the people into either moving away or heading off in search of a blanket like the new captain demanded, Timaeus moved forward to the body and slowly lifted her to turn her face down so that some of her dignity would be covered. Had he not been fueled by some decent compassion for the poor girl, he would have realized what a poor decision this was. After all, it could be possible that she was placed here and now he was disrupting the scene that may have been left behind. If he was, he would have no idea as in his mission to roll her over, Timaeus paying little regard to two rather important clues that were carved into her forehead and stuffed within her mouth. Someone else would have to point these out to the noble lord or speak up quickly if they thought that it might be best that he didn’t disturb the body...
Adelpha stood nearby the crowds. It was afterall, a market, and she had her own little booth set up to sell some of her paintings. She had discovered a few months prior that citizens that lived in the mountains seemed to favour paintings of the sea. And those that lived by the sea tended to favour paintings of the mountain peaks. Perhaps it offered them a glimpse of another life, one that could be more peaceful than what they knew?
Regardless she was there. And while most were clambering to get a view of the dead girl, Adelpha kept her eyes scanning the crowd and watching everyone that she could see. If someone or someone's had planted the girl there, then they could be there still, watching to see what would happen and more importantly; to see if there was a chance that they'd be caught.
From what she could tell, most people seemed to be in shock, and rightfully so. Timaeus' voice was heard barking orders for blankets. A few ladies offered what they had with them, afterall, not all the people there were gawkers and gossipers.
All that Adelpha could do was continue to observe those nearby. As an artist she was quite used to catching fine details. It didn't tend to be too difficult to discover what was out of place. However she wasn't used to dealing with people. Landscapes and still lifes were more her style.
That and she was an introvert. It wasn't really her place to take charge of anything but her work. That's what the nobles were for anyways; to take charge and bark orders.
But....
Adelpha couldn't help but feel concern for the girl now forever lost from her family. She was no mother, herself, nor did she ever assume that she would be. But that didn't mean that she was heartless to the girl's plight.
Cautiously she approached the body, her stomach sinking at the sight. Such a pretty girl that wouldn't be able to grow up at all. It gave her her own sense of mortality. Her brows furrowed as she saw...well, something in the girl's mouth. Did she choke? "That's not her tongue,...is it?" The words escaped her before she could stop them from coming out. But surely the nobles would have spotted everything before she did.
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Adelpha stood nearby the crowds. It was afterall, a market, and she had her own little booth set up to sell some of her paintings. She had discovered a few months prior that citizens that lived in the mountains seemed to favour paintings of the sea. And those that lived by the sea tended to favour paintings of the mountain peaks. Perhaps it offered them a glimpse of another life, one that could be more peaceful than what they knew?
Regardless she was there. And while most were clambering to get a view of the dead girl, Adelpha kept her eyes scanning the crowd and watching everyone that she could see. If someone or someone's had planted the girl there, then they could be there still, watching to see what would happen and more importantly; to see if there was a chance that they'd be caught.
From what she could tell, most people seemed to be in shock, and rightfully so. Timaeus' voice was heard barking orders for blankets. A few ladies offered what they had with them, afterall, not all the people there were gawkers and gossipers.
All that Adelpha could do was continue to observe those nearby. As an artist she was quite used to catching fine details. It didn't tend to be too difficult to discover what was out of place. However she wasn't used to dealing with people. Landscapes and still lifes were more her style.
That and she was an introvert. It wasn't really her place to take charge of anything but her work. That's what the nobles were for anyways; to take charge and bark orders.
But....
Adelpha couldn't help but feel concern for the girl now forever lost from her family. She was no mother, herself, nor did she ever assume that she would be. But that didn't mean that she was heartless to the girl's plight.
Cautiously she approached the body, her stomach sinking at the sight. Such a pretty girl that wouldn't be able to grow up at all. It gave her her own sense of mortality. Her brows furrowed as she saw...well, something in the girl's mouth. Did she choke? "That's not her tongue,...is it?" The words escaped her before she could stop them from coming out. But surely the nobles would have spotted everything before she did.
Adelpha stood nearby the crowds. It was afterall, a market, and she had her own little booth set up to sell some of her paintings. She had discovered a few months prior that citizens that lived in the mountains seemed to favour paintings of the sea. And those that lived by the sea tended to favour paintings of the mountain peaks. Perhaps it offered them a glimpse of another life, one that could be more peaceful than what they knew?
Regardless she was there. And while most were clambering to get a view of the dead girl, Adelpha kept her eyes scanning the crowd and watching everyone that she could see. If someone or someone's had planted the girl there, then they could be there still, watching to see what would happen and more importantly; to see if there was a chance that they'd be caught.
From what she could tell, most people seemed to be in shock, and rightfully so. Timaeus' voice was heard barking orders for blankets. A few ladies offered what they had with them, afterall, not all the people there were gawkers and gossipers.
All that Adelpha could do was continue to observe those nearby. As an artist she was quite used to catching fine details. It didn't tend to be too difficult to discover what was out of place. However she wasn't used to dealing with people. Landscapes and still lifes were more her style.
That and she was an introvert. It wasn't really her place to take charge of anything but her work. That's what the nobles were for anyways; to take charge and bark orders.
But....
Adelpha couldn't help but feel concern for the girl now forever lost from her family. She was no mother, herself, nor did she ever assume that she would be. But that didn't mean that she was heartless to the girl's plight.
Cautiously she approached the body, her stomach sinking at the sight. Such a pretty girl that wouldn't be able to grow up at all. It gave her her own sense of mortality. Her brows furrowed as she saw...well, something in the girl's mouth. Did she choke? "That's not her tongue,...is it?" The words escaped her before she could stop them from coming out. But surely the nobles would have spotted everything before she did.
By his own admission, Damocles rarely had considered an invitation to Eubocris a particularly interesting, or indeed, fascinating, engagement. As far as he was concerned, the mountainous province at the center of the island of Kos was nothing short of a backwatered, downtrotted little barony in the middle of nowhere with nothing but rocks and valleys to impress upon others. Sure, Magnemea was not a particularly pleasant place to live in either, and in some ways he thought it worse than the cavernous valleys of the Gorge, but then again, nobody was interested in that northern land for its sight-seeing potential. His province could at least count upon a wealth of mineral goods that would make even the poorest of lords one of the greatest barons of Colchis in a single stroke.
In contrast however, he could not recollect anything that made him feel particularly curious or fascinated by the Gorge, aside its rocks and stones and textiles. Frankly, he had no idea why such a place had been carved out independently in the form of its own geopolitical subdivision, but he could at least appreciate the simplicity of the land, if anything. and he supposed that, though banal, the Gorge did offer up a contrast in its peoples. Unlike the lands of the Drakos, most people there were free from the bondage of the chain and the whip. Perhaps, he would have appreciated the relatively tamed nature of the valley if he had to manage some aspect of its affairs, but even that seemed predictably boring. Of course, he had not been called upon for his opinions on Eubocris.
No, he had been invited to tend to matters that he did understand, thoroughly and completely, affairs of a military and martial nature that at least sparked some modicum of interest in the colossal man with the rare silver eyes. It had been a standard routine, a few strategic war games and mundane drills that seldom were recorded into one's foresighted memory. Alas, expertise in the ways of the sword and shield were only one half of his career as a Captain. Appearances and the weight of one's reputation was another matter entirely, and for one who could not rely on the luster of an ancient lineage or a prestigious background, such matter was one he had to build slowly, but deliberately. Authority, however people saw it, Damocles had grown to consider a matter of patience and careful tending. It did not grow out of nothing, nor did it sprout from the ground, miraculous and fully-grown. No, it was a slow, calculated exercise of subtlety, and of said subtly, one such invocations was the management of one's own reputation. He did not care for Eubocris, or its mundane people, or its barons and nobles either, but his image and the whispers of promised words upon still wet-lips, well that surely was something he would welcome most wholeheartedly.
Hence he led and commanded a small retinue of men on that day, providing advise and counsel whenever it was requested, and iron-voiced convictions when necessary. This was not an extraordinary day, so he did not utilize an extraordinary tone to his still commanding voice. Once all had been finished and the pleasantries done and over with, he simply left, committing to ever act of decorum and formality that had been expected. Yet, as he moved about the layout of the land and began to make a prompt leave for the province, he found a most peculiar of sights, one that struck his fancy in a way that few things ever truly did.
It was the call of the Gods that made the Magnemean’s ears perk in attention.
While it wasn’t uncommon to call upon the celestials in a place that was not their temples of worhips, Damocles thought it most curious how a great, large crowd of people amassed about in great numbers around a simple marketplace. In his mind, either some wayward priest had made his way to Eubocris bringing the word of the Divines as gospel, or something prophetically curious had transpired. Surely not everyone in the Gorge had grown devout in the brink of a few hours and the break of some mere moments since he last set his silvery gaze on the layout. Interest in the circumstances drew his attention to inquiry, and his deadly sense of curiosity got the better of him, with the colossal militant pushing through the sea of people to bear witness to whatever had compelled so many to gather in a mere marketplace.
It was a woman, one he supposed most would have thought of as beautiful, with golden locks and a fairness of form that seldom came upon others, that had drawn the people to her presence. Yet, she had been examined for all the wrong reasons he thought. Stripped bare with nothing but the mark of the moon on her forehead and some sort of appendage stuffed in her mouth, Damocles was well aware of what this was, a clear case of assassination. She had few wounds on her, that was true, but from the vagueness in her eyes and the stiffness that appeared on her body, it was obvious that this had been an intentional act, a deliberate one. Yet it all seemed so odd, so inexplicably weird in its form. As far as he could tell, she had no identifiable marks on her body, and the crest on her head suggested the work of the Goddess Artemis, but the Magnemean knew better than to blasphemously call upon the name of a god haphazardly.
Oh, he believed in the will of the Divines, of that there was no doubt. Yet, in his years as a soldier, he had never come upon a case where a death could not be explained by means of logic and reason. It was not that he did not fear the Gods, far from it. As far as he was aware, they were too busy in their immortal affairs to bother with the stupidity and madness of the mundane and the uninspiring. As such, calling on the presence of the Divine Ones was not often the first step he took whenever a fascinating opportunity like this arose. Most likely, that mark had been a false pretense of sorts, one meant to deviate attention from the scene of the crime, and thus he suspected the work of fanatics to be behind this. Of course, for a proper judgement to be done and a real conclusion to be raised, further evidence would have been needed. Yet, before he could fixate himself to a better assesstment of the condition of the body, a voice sprung out, authoritatively and demanding in its tone, beckoning others to cloak the woman and conceal her from sight.
That was a mistake, a big one. To say little of tampering with the conditions of the body without proper care or maintenance, cloaking such a person would have contaminated the scene of the crime and potentially ruined any clues or hints that might have been subtly hidden away from sight. No, the body must be preserved in its current state, even if it was one that disgusted the prudish views of the Greeks. Yet, he would not lose his calm and collection over such trappings of emergency. With an elegant move of his gestures, Damocles stepped forward and raised an objection, maintain a deliberately levelheaded tone to balance the unsteadiness of the hour.
“Good sir, if you would, I would counsel you to leave the body as is.” He calmly objected, keeping his features poised and stoic so as to not show any form of emotion to what was otherwise a dispassionate endeavor. “I fear that covering this woman would contaminate the scene of the crime, and dissolve some valuable evidence that might be hidden from plain sight. Evidence that could be used in the future for a more thorough investigation.” Damocles continued manifesting a clarity of tone that denoted an experience of years that came with the previous management of cases like this. “Instead, good sir, I suggest you or your superior issues a lockdown order and close the borders of the province. This will prevent the escape from anyone who might have had a hand in this…heinous act.”
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By his own admission, Damocles rarely had considered an invitation to Eubocris a particularly interesting, or indeed, fascinating, engagement. As far as he was concerned, the mountainous province at the center of the island of Kos was nothing short of a backwatered, downtrotted little barony in the middle of nowhere with nothing but rocks and valleys to impress upon others. Sure, Magnemea was not a particularly pleasant place to live in either, and in some ways he thought it worse than the cavernous valleys of the Gorge, but then again, nobody was interested in that northern land for its sight-seeing potential. His province could at least count upon a wealth of mineral goods that would make even the poorest of lords one of the greatest barons of Colchis in a single stroke.
In contrast however, he could not recollect anything that made him feel particularly curious or fascinated by the Gorge, aside its rocks and stones and textiles. Frankly, he had no idea why such a place had been carved out independently in the form of its own geopolitical subdivision, but he could at least appreciate the simplicity of the land, if anything. and he supposed that, though banal, the Gorge did offer up a contrast in its peoples. Unlike the lands of the Drakos, most people there were free from the bondage of the chain and the whip. Perhaps, he would have appreciated the relatively tamed nature of the valley if he had to manage some aspect of its affairs, but even that seemed predictably boring. Of course, he had not been called upon for his opinions on Eubocris.
No, he had been invited to tend to matters that he did understand, thoroughly and completely, affairs of a military and martial nature that at least sparked some modicum of interest in the colossal man with the rare silver eyes. It had been a standard routine, a few strategic war games and mundane drills that seldom were recorded into one's foresighted memory. Alas, expertise in the ways of the sword and shield were only one half of his career as a Captain. Appearances and the weight of one's reputation was another matter entirely, and for one who could not rely on the luster of an ancient lineage or a prestigious background, such matter was one he had to build slowly, but deliberately. Authority, however people saw it, Damocles had grown to consider a matter of patience and careful tending. It did not grow out of nothing, nor did it sprout from the ground, miraculous and fully-grown. No, it was a slow, calculated exercise of subtlety, and of said subtly, one such invocations was the management of one's own reputation. He did not care for Eubocris, or its mundane people, or its barons and nobles either, but his image and the whispers of promised words upon still wet-lips, well that surely was something he would welcome most wholeheartedly.
Hence he led and commanded a small retinue of men on that day, providing advise and counsel whenever it was requested, and iron-voiced convictions when necessary. This was not an extraordinary day, so he did not utilize an extraordinary tone to his still commanding voice. Once all had been finished and the pleasantries done and over with, he simply left, committing to ever act of decorum and formality that had been expected. Yet, as he moved about the layout of the land and began to make a prompt leave for the province, he found a most peculiar of sights, one that struck his fancy in a way that few things ever truly did.
It was the call of the Gods that made the Magnemean’s ears perk in attention.
While it wasn’t uncommon to call upon the celestials in a place that was not their temples of worhips, Damocles thought it most curious how a great, large crowd of people amassed about in great numbers around a simple marketplace. In his mind, either some wayward priest had made his way to Eubocris bringing the word of the Divines as gospel, or something prophetically curious had transpired. Surely not everyone in the Gorge had grown devout in the brink of a few hours and the break of some mere moments since he last set his silvery gaze on the layout. Interest in the circumstances drew his attention to inquiry, and his deadly sense of curiosity got the better of him, with the colossal militant pushing through the sea of people to bear witness to whatever had compelled so many to gather in a mere marketplace.
It was a woman, one he supposed most would have thought of as beautiful, with golden locks and a fairness of form that seldom came upon others, that had drawn the people to her presence. Yet, she had been examined for all the wrong reasons he thought. Stripped bare with nothing but the mark of the moon on her forehead and some sort of appendage stuffed in her mouth, Damocles was well aware of what this was, a clear case of assassination. She had few wounds on her, that was true, but from the vagueness in her eyes and the stiffness that appeared on her body, it was obvious that this had been an intentional act, a deliberate one. Yet it all seemed so odd, so inexplicably weird in its form. As far as he could tell, she had no identifiable marks on her body, and the crest on her head suggested the work of the Goddess Artemis, but the Magnemean knew better than to blasphemously call upon the name of a god haphazardly.
Oh, he believed in the will of the Divines, of that there was no doubt. Yet, in his years as a soldier, he had never come upon a case where a death could not be explained by means of logic and reason. It was not that he did not fear the Gods, far from it. As far as he was aware, they were too busy in their immortal affairs to bother with the stupidity and madness of the mundane and the uninspiring. As such, calling on the presence of the Divine Ones was not often the first step he took whenever a fascinating opportunity like this arose. Most likely, that mark had been a false pretense of sorts, one meant to deviate attention from the scene of the crime, and thus he suspected the work of fanatics to be behind this. Of course, for a proper judgement to be done and a real conclusion to be raised, further evidence would have been needed. Yet, before he could fixate himself to a better assesstment of the condition of the body, a voice sprung out, authoritatively and demanding in its tone, beckoning others to cloak the woman and conceal her from sight.
That was a mistake, a big one. To say little of tampering with the conditions of the body without proper care or maintenance, cloaking such a person would have contaminated the scene of the crime and potentially ruined any clues or hints that might have been subtly hidden away from sight. No, the body must be preserved in its current state, even if it was one that disgusted the prudish views of the Greeks. Yet, he would not lose his calm and collection over such trappings of emergency. With an elegant move of his gestures, Damocles stepped forward and raised an objection, maintain a deliberately levelheaded tone to balance the unsteadiness of the hour.
“Good sir, if you would, I would counsel you to leave the body as is.” He calmly objected, keeping his features poised and stoic so as to not show any form of emotion to what was otherwise a dispassionate endeavor. “I fear that covering this woman would contaminate the scene of the crime, and dissolve some valuable evidence that might be hidden from plain sight. Evidence that could be used in the future for a more thorough investigation.” Damocles continued manifesting a clarity of tone that denoted an experience of years that came with the previous management of cases like this. “Instead, good sir, I suggest you or your superior issues a lockdown order and close the borders of the province. This will prevent the escape from anyone who might have had a hand in this…heinous act.”
By his own admission, Damocles rarely had considered an invitation to Eubocris a particularly interesting, or indeed, fascinating, engagement. As far as he was concerned, the mountainous province at the center of the island of Kos was nothing short of a backwatered, downtrotted little barony in the middle of nowhere with nothing but rocks and valleys to impress upon others. Sure, Magnemea was not a particularly pleasant place to live in either, and in some ways he thought it worse than the cavernous valleys of the Gorge, but then again, nobody was interested in that northern land for its sight-seeing potential. His province could at least count upon a wealth of mineral goods that would make even the poorest of lords one of the greatest barons of Colchis in a single stroke.
In contrast however, he could not recollect anything that made him feel particularly curious or fascinated by the Gorge, aside its rocks and stones and textiles. Frankly, he had no idea why such a place had been carved out independently in the form of its own geopolitical subdivision, but he could at least appreciate the simplicity of the land, if anything. and he supposed that, though banal, the Gorge did offer up a contrast in its peoples. Unlike the lands of the Drakos, most people there were free from the bondage of the chain and the whip. Perhaps, he would have appreciated the relatively tamed nature of the valley if he had to manage some aspect of its affairs, but even that seemed predictably boring. Of course, he had not been called upon for his opinions on Eubocris.
No, he had been invited to tend to matters that he did understand, thoroughly and completely, affairs of a military and martial nature that at least sparked some modicum of interest in the colossal man with the rare silver eyes. It had been a standard routine, a few strategic war games and mundane drills that seldom were recorded into one's foresighted memory. Alas, expertise in the ways of the sword and shield were only one half of his career as a Captain. Appearances and the weight of one's reputation was another matter entirely, and for one who could not rely on the luster of an ancient lineage or a prestigious background, such matter was one he had to build slowly, but deliberately. Authority, however people saw it, Damocles had grown to consider a matter of patience and careful tending. It did not grow out of nothing, nor did it sprout from the ground, miraculous and fully-grown. No, it was a slow, calculated exercise of subtlety, and of said subtly, one such invocations was the management of one's own reputation. He did not care for Eubocris, or its mundane people, or its barons and nobles either, but his image and the whispers of promised words upon still wet-lips, well that surely was something he would welcome most wholeheartedly.
Hence he led and commanded a small retinue of men on that day, providing advise and counsel whenever it was requested, and iron-voiced convictions when necessary. This was not an extraordinary day, so he did not utilize an extraordinary tone to his still commanding voice. Once all had been finished and the pleasantries done and over with, he simply left, committing to ever act of decorum and formality that had been expected. Yet, as he moved about the layout of the land and began to make a prompt leave for the province, he found a most peculiar of sights, one that struck his fancy in a way that few things ever truly did.
It was the call of the Gods that made the Magnemean’s ears perk in attention.
While it wasn’t uncommon to call upon the celestials in a place that was not their temples of worhips, Damocles thought it most curious how a great, large crowd of people amassed about in great numbers around a simple marketplace. In his mind, either some wayward priest had made his way to Eubocris bringing the word of the Divines as gospel, or something prophetically curious had transpired. Surely not everyone in the Gorge had grown devout in the brink of a few hours and the break of some mere moments since he last set his silvery gaze on the layout. Interest in the circumstances drew his attention to inquiry, and his deadly sense of curiosity got the better of him, with the colossal militant pushing through the sea of people to bear witness to whatever had compelled so many to gather in a mere marketplace.
It was a woman, one he supposed most would have thought of as beautiful, with golden locks and a fairness of form that seldom came upon others, that had drawn the people to her presence. Yet, she had been examined for all the wrong reasons he thought. Stripped bare with nothing but the mark of the moon on her forehead and some sort of appendage stuffed in her mouth, Damocles was well aware of what this was, a clear case of assassination. She had few wounds on her, that was true, but from the vagueness in her eyes and the stiffness that appeared on her body, it was obvious that this had been an intentional act, a deliberate one. Yet it all seemed so odd, so inexplicably weird in its form. As far as he could tell, she had no identifiable marks on her body, and the crest on her head suggested the work of the Goddess Artemis, but the Magnemean knew better than to blasphemously call upon the name of a god haphazardly.
Oh, he believed in the will of the Divines, of that there was no doubt. Yet, in his years as a soldier, he had never come upon a case where a death could not be explained by means of logic and reason. It was not that he did not fear the Gods, far from it. As far as he was aware, they were too busy in their immortal affairs to bother with the stupidity and madness of the mundane and the uninspiring. As such, calling on the presence of the Divine Ones was not often the first step he took whenever a fascinating opportunity like this arose. Most likely, that mark had been a false pretense of sorts, one meant to deviate attention from the scene of the crime, and thus he suspected the work of fanatics to be behind this. Of course, for a proper judgement to be done and a real conclusion to be raised, further evidence would have been needed. Yet, before he could fixate himself to a better assesstment of the condition of the body, a voice sprung out, authoritatively and demanding in its tone, beckoning others to cloak the woman and conceal her from sight.
That was a mistake, a big one. To say little of tampering with the conditions of the body without proper care or maintenance, cloaking such a person would have contaminated the scene of the crime and potentially ruined any clues or hints that might have been subtly hidden away from sight. No, the body must be preserved in its current state, even if it was one that disgusted the prudish views of the Greeks. Yet, he would not lose his calm and collection over such trappings of emergency. With an elegant move of his gestures, Damocles stepped forward and raised an objection, maintain a deliberately levelheaded tone to balance the unsteadiness of the hour.
“Good sir, if you would, I would counsel you to leave the body as is.” He calmly objected, keeping his features poised and stoic so as to not show any form of emotion to what was otherwise a dispassionate endeavor. “I fear that covering this woman would contaminate the scene of the crime, and dissolve some valuable evidence that might be hidden from plain sight. Evidence that could be used in the future for a more thorough investigation.” Damocles continued manifesting a clarity of tone that denoted an experience of years that came with the previous management of cases like this. “Instead, good sir, I suggest you or your superior issues a lockdown order and close the borders of the province. This will prevent the escape from anyone who might have had a hand in this…heinous act.”
The thinness of the air, which didn't help her breathing, the somewhat chillier temperatures, and the shock of seeing someone dead under mysterious circumstances all contributed to how surreal Celine felt. She would have agreed with anyone who said covering the body was not a good idea, but Celine didn't exactly have all her wits about her in that moment. The memories the questions she wanted to ask brought back made Celine feel trapped within herself, and perhaps she still was.
But now she could move. Lord Valaoritis calling for blankets had somehow given her a sense of purpose.
Move. Now. Lung condition or no, you won't be able to help yourself even to tea if you just stand there.
As she returned from getting a blanket, she heard someone say that it might be best to leave the body as it was, but she bowed in acknowledgement of having tried to fulfill the lord's request. Still, what was she going to do now? She couldn't do nothing. If that happened, she might end up in a worse mental state than before.
Think, think, think, there has to be something!
"I can take it back, then, my lord," she offered, shrugging her shoulders to show that it really didn't matter to her either way. She bowed again and waited to hear if he might have anything else for her to do.
As she tried to keep her focus firmly on the present, Celine took the deepest breath she possibly could to steady herself. Out of the corner of her eye, when she was on her way toward the lord with the blanket in her arms, she thought she had seen someone familiar. Oh gods, please let it be! @athena please help me to keep my wits about me. My young life was so shattered years ago that I'm afraid any more to worry about might do me in.
"Adelpha?" Celine's voice was weak and breathless, and might not quite carry to her friend. But she was so glad to see her face that as soon as she knew what Lord Valaoritis wanted her to do with the blanket, she'd go to see if it was Adelpha herself, dead body or no dead body. Right now, Celine felt like she needed a hug, and the prospect of someone else familiar to her was a relief.
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The thinness of the air, which didn't help her breathing, the somewhat chillier temperatures, and the shock of seeing someone dead under mysterious circumstances all contributed to how surreal Celine felt. She would have agreed with anyone who said covering the body was not a good idea, but Celine didn't exactly have all her wits about her in that moment. The memories the questions she wanted to ask brought back made Celine feel trapped within herself, and perhaps she still was.
But now she could move. Lord Valaoritis calling for blankets had somehow given her a sense of purpose.
Move. Now. Lung condition or no, you won't be able to help yourself even to tea if you just stand there.
As she returned from getting a blanket, she heard someone say that it might be best to leave the body as it was, but she bowed in acknowledgement of having tried to fulfill the lord's request. Still, what was she going to do now? She couldn't do nothing. If that happened, she might end up in a worse mental state than before.
Think, think, think, there has to be something!
"I can take it back, then, my lord," she offered, shrugging her shoulders to show that it really didn't matter to her either way. She bowed again and waited to hear if he might have anything else for her to do.
As she tried to keep her focus firmly on the present, Celine took the deepest breath she possibly could to steady herself. Out of the corner of her eye, when she was on her way toward the lord with the blanket in her arms, she thought she had seen someone familiar. Oh gods, please let it be! @athena please help me to keep my wits about me. My young life was so shattered years ago that I'm afraid any more to worry about might do me in.
"Adelpha?" Celine's voice was weak and breathless, and might not quite carry to her friend. But she was so glad to see her face that as soon as she knew what Lord Valaoritis wanted her to do with the blanket, she'd go to see if it was Adelpha herself, dead body or no dead body. Right now, Celine felt like she needed a hug, and the prospect of someone else familiar to her was a relief.
The thinness of the air, which didn't help her breathing, the somewhat chillier temperatures, and the shock of seeing someone dead under mysterious circumstances all contributed to how surreal Celine felt. She would have agreed with anyone who said covering the body was not a good idea, but Celine didn't exactly have all her wits about her in that moment. The memories the questions she wanted to ask brought back made Celine feel trapped within herself, and perhaps she still was.
But now she could move. Lord Valaoritis calling for blankets had somehow given her a sense of purpose.
Move. Now. Lung condition or no, you won't be able to help yourself even to tea if you just stand there.
As she returned from getting a blanket, she heard someone say that it might be best to leave the body as it was, but she bowed in acknowledgement of having tried to fulfill the lord's request. Still, what was she going to do now? She couldn't do nothing. If that happened, she might end up in a worse mental state than before.
Think, think, think, there has to be something!
"I can take it back, then, my lord," she offered, shrugging her shoulders to show that it really didn't matter to her either way. She bowed again and waited to hear if he might have anything else for her to do.
As she tried to keep her focus firmly on the present, Celine took the deepest breath she possibly could to steady herself. Out of the corner of her eye, when she was on her way toward the lord with the blanket in her arms, she thought she had seen someone familiar. Oh gods, please let it be! @athena please help me to keep my wits about me. My young life was so shattered years ago that I'm afraid any more to worry about might do me in.
"Adelpha?" Celine's voice was weak and breathless, and might not quite carry to her friend. But she was so glad to see her face that as soon as she knew what Lord Valaoritis wanted her to do with the blanket, she'd go to see if it was Adelpha herself, dead body or no dead body. Right now, Celine felt like she needed a hug, and the prospect of someone else familiar to her was a relief.
In Timaeus’s quest to give the girl some dignity in this awful moment, the newly installed Captain of the Men of the Heights had not expected to be stopped by another. He had been so morally convinced by his decision that he had not even stopped to consider that others would disagree with him. Now, glancing up at the mammoth of a man before him, Timaeus didn’t know what to do.
As his gaze glanced Damozles over, a vague memory tugged in the back of his mind, calling forth an image when the two of them had last crossed paths. Timaeus had been a young boy at the time, not even reached his first full decade of life, but he could remember that day clearly. It was when the Taengeans came to visit his family’s province and all the young lords from both kingdoms came together to train. He looked back on those few days rather fondly, but there had been one part that had been less than pleasant and of course, it involved this man. Tim hadn’t seen when Damocles had thrown the spear at the two princes from Taengea, but he had seen the aftermath. He could remember how terrified he had been, seeing that freshly thrown javelin lodged at their feet and how foolishly bold the other man had been in challenging them to a fight. It might have been great fun to everyone else, but for the little lord who still believed that things such as gorgons and cyclops would come to eat him in the middle of the night, it was nothing short of scary. He hadn’t known who Damocles was at the time, but he had learned through his actions that he was someone that Tim should be wary of from that moment forward. Not that it mattered all that much given that Damocles was from somewhere other than Eubocris -- but here he was back in the province and at the scene of murder no less.
Timaeus did not want to admit this openly, but he was still emotionally fragile from learning about his father’s death. He hid it well, but after being thrust headfirst into the duties of an heir, the young man did not have a chance to sort through his feelings properly. In between this haze of grief and anger that he had no been here to be at Amaxius’s side… he wasn’t thinking right. His ability to logically think through a situation was compromised. Things that would have been straight forward a month ago now took a few moments longer to reach. That became apparent in the brief moment that Timaeus considered that this stranger in his homeland might have had something to do with this. The others who had gathered around the body with him might have noticed how tense Tim became for a moment, his body going rigid and stiff as he glanced Damocles up and down, trying to discern why this man he had seen act in an unsettling way over a decade ago was now here once again,
That answer was obvious enough, of course. The whole fiasco to install him as Captain of the Eubocrisian unit had forced Tim into the company of countless military leaders who all had something to say on the matter. He could recognize the quality of armor and that familiar stance of how Damocles held himself -- something that Timaeus would have to grow more comfortable within the days to come. This man was a military leader of some sort. This realization confused the twenty-year-old for a moment as he couldn’t fathom how this had happened… but it had been eleven years since Timaeus had last seen Damocles. Not to mention Tim had been mostly absent from Colchis in the four years before that. A lot could happen that timeframe. Clearly, that training session had been a one-off incident; or at least Tim could hope that this was the case.
Timaeus had to admit that the man had certainly cleaned up his act in the decade since the two men had met (though Tim doubted that Damocles would remember him as they never spoke and he had grown up quite a bit since then) which was apparent in the way that he spoke. The other captain spoke with such formality that the Valaoritis lord practically stared at him dumbfounded for a moment as he made sense of his words. Timaeus was not technically unfamiliar with such speech, but he had been removed from the life of court and politics for so long that things that used to be easily understood now appeared to be a world away. This was understandable given how Timaeus and his comrades had practically made their own language with how liberally they mixed Greek, Coptic, slang, and profanities into their speech at every turn. It would take him a while to readjust to the stiff language of the social class he had been born into.
Regardless of how easily Tim understood Damocles’s words or not, the message was loud and clear. The other captain thought that it would be best to not cover the body.
The Valaoritis lord’s face twisted in disgust at this suggestion. Did this other man really want to deny this woman dignity in this horrible moment? It was already horrible enough that her body had become a spectacle, but to deny her the only shred of decency and virtue that had not been stripped away from her by her killer? It was ludicrous. Timaeus could not support it. This girl’s naked form would not be something that would be gawked at by those who could not show respect for the dead. The suggestion was simply unfathomable and was quickly shot down by the young captain.
“No. Her body must be covered.” He said simply in a tone that made it clear that he had no intention of arguing this matter, Though, if Damocles decided to continue this point of contention, it would not be all that surprising. He was not likely to know who Timaeus was and the rank he had just acquired. All Damo would see before him was some scrappy young man, barely older than twenty, who was denying the suggestion of a well-seasoned captain. “In the wake of this tragedy, the least we can do is provide some dignity towards those who had been denied it.” He stated rather firmly as he glanced around the edge of the crowd.
The young captain caught sight of a rather frightened Celine on the edge, clutching the blankets he had asked for. He caught her words, asking whether or not they were still needed after Damocles’s assertion at she should be left bare. Timaeus shook his head at this and beckoned her forward so he could take the blankets from her. Being unsuccessful in his attempt to turn the body over, Tim carefully set her down as he moved to take the blankets from her. “Thank you” He said kindly with a small smile of reassurance. It wasn’t much, but maybe a small moment of comfort would provide some ease in this tense situation.
Ignoring the protests that were likely to come from those who supported Damocles’ idea, Timaeus set forth in his conviction to provide the poor girl with some humility. Quickly unfolding the blanket, the Captain carefully draped it over her body, falling just short of her neck. Now that she was concealed from view, he felt a bit easier about tackling the situation at hand. Now hopefully the crowds who were just here for the spectacle would begin to disperse as their chance to gawk at her as if she hadn’t been alive and breathing not too long ago was taken away. Selfishly, Timaeus needed that to happen to even consider how to approach this next. After all, he was just barely grown. The young man had no experience being a formal leader and he didn’t have the faintest clue about how he was supposed to handle such a public tragedy. He had an overwhelming urge to just flee this moment and leave it to others, but he knew that this was a terrible decision. Whether he liked it or not, he was going to learn how to handle moments like this.
“For all of those worried about evidence, it’s still there. Just underneath the blanket where it will remain for now.” Timaeus muttered as he considered the rest of what Damocles had said. A lockdown order would be simple enough… but he knew that the people of Eubocris would not take kindly to such an order. They already hated his family. Hearing that the one who had been missing for four years was now demanding that they all remain in their homes would not go over well. There had to be a different solution to this problem. Glancing elsewhere, Timaeus took a moment to think through the possibilities before settling on a course of action that he thought would be best. Granted, the others surrounding him would likely have a few choice words about it now that Adelpha had also stepped forward and added another outsider to the circle around Timaeus.
Beckoning to one of the men that Timaeus had brought with him to Eubocris, Timaeus instructed, “Go forward to the unit and summon their fastest riders. Those men are to travel down the main road and stop anyone traveling out of the province. We passed a few men on the way here if I recall.” Timaeus was quick to note, remembering clearly how difficult it had been to pass these strangers on such a narrow road, “Any and all outsiders in Eubocris are to be stopped and questioned. All carts are to be searched. If you find persons of interest, they are to be detained immediately, am I understood?” The lackey was quick to nod as both men remained in the dark about the fact that every single person surrounding Timaeus was not from Eubocris and thus considered suspects just on the mere count of not calling this mountainous province home. Likely this would cause quite a stir among those surrounding Tim.
However, any possible protests were dulled in his mind as the young woman that the girl who brought the blankets identified as Adelpha noticed something that the Captain had missed. The markings on her forehead. Timaeus had been so focused on preserving her dignity that he had not thought to take a closer look at the blood on her forehead, thinking that it was just the mark of where her fatal blow had landed. However, he could now see that it was something much more complex than that. It was a carving of some sort, but of what, Timaeus could not see. There was too much blood in the way. He was half-tempted to clear it away with a loose rag, but he knew that people would not react well to this. He didn’t feel the same way about whatever filled her mouth.
As others turned their eyes to her mouth, Timaeus cautiously leaned forward and pried open the girl’s jaw that was stiffly locked in the hours following her death. With as much care as he could muster given the situation, the Captain pulled the animal part loose and held it outstretched in his palm for all to see. His brows furrowed in confusion at the bloody mass as he tried to identify it in this state with so many people around.
“What on earth?...” The captain quietly muttered as he turned it over in his grasp, unsure of what to make of this discovery.
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In Timaeus’s quest to give the girl some dignity in this awful moment, the newly installed Captain of the Men of the Heights had not expected to be stopped by another. He had been so morally convinced by his decision that he had not even stopped to consider that others would disagree with him. Now, glancing up at the mammoth of a man before him, Timaeus didn’t know what to do.
As his gaze glanced Damozles over, a vague memory tugged in the back of his mind, calling forth an image when the two of them had last crossed paths. Timaeus had been a young boy at the time, not even reached his first full decade of life, but he could remember that day clearly. It was when the Taengeans came to visit his family’s province and all the young lords from both kingdoms came together to train. He looked back on those few days rather fondly, but there had been one part that had been less than pleasant and of course, it involved this man. Tim hadn’t seen when Damocles had thrown the spear at the two princes from Taengea, but he had seen the aftermath. He could remember how terrified he had been, seeing that freshly thrown javelin lodged at their feet and how foolishly bold the other man had been in challenging them to a fight. It might have been great fun to everyone else, but for the little lord who still believed that things such as gorgons and cyclops would come to eat him in the middle of the night, it was nothing short of scary. He hadn’t known who Damocles was at the time, but he had learned through his actions that he was someone that Tim should be wary of from that moment forward. Not that it mattered all that much given that Damocles was from somewhere other than Eubocris -- but here he was back in the province and at the scene of murder no less.
Timaeus did not want to admit this openly, but he was still emotionally fragile from learning about his father’s death. He hid it well, but after being thrust headfirst into the duties of an heir, the young man did not have a chance to sort through his feelings properly. In between this haze of grief and anger that he had no been here to be at Amaxius’s side… he wasn’t thinking right. His ability to logically think through a situation was compromised. Things that would have been straight forward a month ago now took a few moments longer to reach. That became apparent in the brief moment that Timaeus considered that this stranger in his homeland might have had something to do with this. The others who had gathered around the body with him might have noticed how tense Tim became for a moment, his body going rigid and stiff as he glanced Damocles up and down, trying to discern why this man he had seen act in an unsettling way over a decade ago was now here once again,
That answer was obvious enough, of course. The whole fiasco to install him as Captain of the Eubocrisian unit had forced Tim into the company of countless military leaders who all had something to say on the matter. He could recognize the quality of armor and that familiar stance of how Damocles held himself -- something that Timaeus would have to grow more comfortable within the days to come. This man was a military leader of some sort. This realization confused the twenty-year-old for a moment as he couldn’t fathom how this had happened… but it had been eleven years since Timaeus had last seen Damocles. Not to mention Tim had been mostly absent from Colchis in the four years before that. A lot could happen that timeframe. Clearly, that training session had been a one-off incident; or at least Tim could hope that this was the case.
Timaeus had to admit that the man had certainly cleaned up his act in the decade since the two men had met (though Tim doubted that Damocles would remember him as they never spoke and he had grown up quite a bit since then) which was apparent in the way that he spoke. The other captain spoke with such formality that the Valaoritis lord practically stared at him dumbfounded for a moment as he made sense of his words. Timaeus was not technically unfamiliar with such speech, but he had been removed from the life of court and politics for so long that things that used to be easily understood now appeared to be a world away. This was understandable given how Timaeus and his comrades had practically made their own language with how liberally they mixed Greek, Coptic, slang, and profanities into their speech at every turn. It would take him a while to readjust to the stiff language of the social class he had been born into.
Regardless of how easily Tim understood Damocles’s words or not, the message was loud and clear. The other captain thought that it would be best to not cover the body.
The Valaoritis lord’s face twisted in disgust at this suggestion. Did this other man really want to deny this woman dignity in this horrible moment? It was already horrible enough that her body had become a spectacle, but to deny her the only shred of decency and virtue that had not been stripped away from her by her killer? It was ludicrous. Timaeus could not support it. This girl’s naked form would not be something that would be gawked at by those who could not show respect for the dead. The suggestion was simply unfathomable and was quickly shot down by the young captain.
“No. Her body must be covered.” He said simply in a tone that made it clear that he had no intention of arguing this matter, Though, if Damocles decided to continue this point of contention, it would not be all that surprising. He was not likely to know who Timaeus was and the rank he had just acquired. All Damo would see before him was some scrappy young man, barely older than twenty, who was denying the suggestion of a well-seasoned captain. “In the wake of this tragedy, the least we can do is provide some dignity towards those who had been denied it.” He stated rather firmly as he glanced around the edge of the crowd.
The young captain caught sight of a rather frightened Celine on the edge, clutching the blankets he had asked for. He caught her words, asking whether or not they were still needed after Damocles’s assertion at she should be left bare. Timaeus shook his head at this and beckoned her forward so he could take the blankets from her. Being unsuccessful in his attempt to turn the body over, Tim carefully set her down as he moved to take the blankets from her. “Thank you” He said kindly with a small smile of reassurance. It wasn’t much, but maybe a small moment of comfort would provide some ease in this tense situation.
Ignoring the protests that were likely to come from those who supported Damocles’ idea, Timaeus set forth in his conviction to provide the poor girl with some humility. Quickly unfolding the blanket, the Captain carefully draped it over her body, falling just short of her neck. Now that she was concealed from view, he felt a bit easier about tackling the situation at hand. Now hopefully the crowds who were just here for the spectacle would begin to disperse as their chance to gawk at her as if she hadn’t been alive and breathing not too long ago was taken away. Selfishly, Timaeus needed that to happen to even consider how to approach this next. After all, he was just barely grown. The young man had no experience being a formal leader and he didn’t have the faintest clue about how he was supposed to handle such a public tragedy. He had an overwhelming urge to just flee this moment and leave it to others, but he knew that this was a terrible decision. Whether he liked it or not, he was going to learn how to handle moments like this.
“For all of those worried about evidence, it’s still there. Just underneath the blanket where it will remain for now.” Timaeus muttered as he considered the rest of what Damocles had said. A lockdown order would be simple enough… but he knew that the people of Eubocris would not take kindly to such an order. They already hated his family. Hearing that the one who had been missing for four years was now demanding that they all remain in their homes would not go over well. There had to be a different solution to this problem. Glancing elsewhere, Timaeus took a moment to think through the possibilities before settling on a course of action that he thought would be best. Granted, the others surrounding him would likely have a few choice words about it now that Adelpha had also stepped forward and added another outsider to the circle around Timaeus.
Beckoning to one of the men that Timaeus had brought with him to Eubocris, Timaeus instructed, “Go forward to the unit and summon their fastest riders. Those men are to travel down the main road and stop anyone traveling out of the province. We passed a few men on the way here if I recall.” Timaeus was quick to note, remembering clearly how difficult it had been to pass these strangers on such a narrow road, “Any and all outsiders in Eubocris are to be stopped and questioned. All carts are to be searched. If you find persons of interest, they are to be detained immediately, am I understood?” The lackey was quick to nod as both men remained in the dark about the fact that every single person surrounding Timaeus was not from Eubocris and thus considered suspects just on the mere count of not calling this mountainous province home. Likely this would cause quite a stir among those surrounding Tim.
However, any possible protests were dulled in his mind as the young woman that the girl who brought the blankets identified as Adelpha noticed something that the Captain had missed. The markings on her forehead. Timaeus had been so focused on preserving her dignity that he had not thought to take a closer look at the blood on her forehead, thinking that it was just the mark of where her fatal blow had landed. However, he could now see that it was something much more complex than that. It was a carving of some sort, but of what, Timaeus could not see. There was too much blood in the way. He was half-tempted to clear it away with a loose rag, but he knew that people would not react well to this. He didn’t feel the same way about whatever filled her mouth.
As others turned their eyes to her mouth, Timaeus cautiously leaned forward and pried open the girl’s jaw that was stiffly locked in the hours following her death. With as much care as he could muster given the situation, the Captain pulled the animal part loose and held it outstretched in his palm for all to see. His brows furrowed in confusion at the bloody mass as he tried to identify it in this state with so many people around.
“What on earth?...” The captain quietly muttered as he turned it over in his grasp, unsure of what to make of this discovery.
In Timaeus’s quest to give the girl some dignity in this awful moment, the newly installed Captain of the Men of the Heights had not expected to be stopped by another. He had been so morally convinced by his decision that he had not even stopped to consider that others would disagree with him. Now, glancing up at the mammoth of a man before him, Timaeus didn’t know what to do.
As his gaze glanced Damozles over, a vague memory tugged in the back of his mind, calling forth an image when the two of them had last crossed paths. Timaeus had been a young boy at the time, not even reached his first full decade of life, but he could remember that day clearly. It was when the Taengeans came to visit his family’s province and all the young lords from both kingdoms came together to train. He looked back on those few days rather fondly, but there had been one part that had been less than pleasant and of course, it involved this man. Tim hadn’t seen when Damocles had thrown the spear at the two princes from Taengea, but he had seen the aftermath. He could remember how terrified he had been, seeing that freshly thrown javelin lodged at their feet and how foolishly bold the other man had been in challenging them to a fight. It might have been great fun to everyone else, but for the little lord who still believed that things such as gorgons and cyclops would come to eat him in the middle of the night, it was nothing short of scary. He hadn’t known who Damocles was at the time, but he had learned through his actions that he was someone that Tim should be wary of from that moment forward. Not that it mattered all that much given that Damocles was from somewhere other than Eubocris -- but here he was back in the province and at the scene of murder no less.
Timaeus did not want to admit this openly, but he was still emotionally fragile from learning about his father’s death. He hid it well, but after being thrust headfirst into the duties of an heir, the young man did not have a chance to sort through his feelings properly. In between this haze of grief and anger that he had no been here to be at Amaxius’s side… he wasn’t thinking right. His ability to logically think through a situation was compromised. Things that would have been straight forward a month ago now took a few moments longer to reach. That became apparent in the brief moment that Timaeus considered that this stranger in his homeland might have had something to do with this. The others who had gathered around the body with him might have noticed how tense Tim became for a moment, his body going rigid and stiff as he glanced Damocles up and down, trying to discern why this man he had seen act in an unsettling way over a decade ago was now here once again,
That answer was obvious enough, of course. The whole fiasco to install him as Captain of the Eubocrisian unit had forced Tim into the company of countless military leaders who all had something to say on the matter. He could recognize the quality of armor and that familiar stance of how Damocles held himself -- something that Timaeus would have to grow more comfortable within the days to come. This man was a military leader of some sort. This realization confused the twenty-year-old for a moment as he couldn’t fathom how this had happened… but it had been eleven years since Timaeus had last seen Damocles. Not to mention Tim had been mostly absent from Colchis in the four years before that. A lot could happen that timeframe. Clearly, that training session had been a one-off incident; or at least Tim could hope that this was the case.
Timaeus had to admit that the man had certainly cleaned up his act in the decade since the two men had met (though Tim doubted that Damocles would remember him as they never spoke and he had grown up quite a bit since then) which was apparent in the way that he spoke. The other captain spoke with such formality that the Valaoritis lord practically stared at him dumbfounded for a moment as he made sense of his words. Timaeus was not technically unfamiliar with such speech, but he had been removed from the life of court and politics for so long that things that used to be easily understood now appeared to be a world away. This was understandable given how Timaeus and his comrades had practically made their own language with how liberally they mixed Greek, Coptic, slang, and profanities into their speech at every turn. It would take him a while to readjust to the stiff language of the social class he had been born into.
Regardless of how easily Tim understood Damocles’s words or not, the message was loud and clear. The other captain thought that it would be best to not cover the body.
The Valaoritis lord’s face twisted in disgust at this suggestion. Did this other man really want to deny this woman dignity in this horrible moment? It was already horrible enough that her body had become a spectacle, but to deny her the only shred of decency and virtue that had not been stripped away from her by her killer? It was ludicrous. Timaeus could not support it. This girl’s naked form would not be something that would be gawked at by those who could not show respect for the dead. The suggestion was simply unfathomable and was quickly shot down by the young captain.
“No. Her body must be covered.” He said simply in a tone that made it clear that he had no intention of arguing this matter, Though, if Damocles decided to continue this point of contention, it would not be all that surprising. He was not likely to know who Timaeus was and the rank he had just acquired. All Damo would see before him was some scrappy young man, barely older than twenty, who was denying the suggestion of a well-seasoned captain. “In the wake of this tragedy, the least we can do is provide some dignity towards those who had been denied it.” He stated rather firmly as he glanced around the edge of the crowd.
The young captain caught sight of a rather frightened Celine on the edge, clutching the blankets he had asked for. He caught her words, asking whether or not they were still needed after Damocles’s assertion at she should be left bare. Timaeus shook his head at this and beckoned her forward so he could take the blankets from her. Being unsuccessful in his attempt to turn the body over, Tim carefully set her down as he moved to take the blankets from her. “Thank you” He said kindly with a small smile of reassurance. It wasn’t much, but maybe a small moment of comfort would provide some ease in this tense situation.
Ignoring the protests that were likely to come from those who supported Damocles’ idea, Timaeus set forth in his conviction to provide the poor girl with some humility. Quickly unfolding the blanket, the Captain carefully draped it over her body, falling just short of her neck. Now that she was concealed from view, he felt a bit easier about tackling the situation at hand. Now hopefully the crowds who were just here for the spectacle would begin to disperse as their chance to gawk at her as if she hadn’t been alive and breathing not too long ago was taken away. Selfishly, Timaeus needed that to happen to even consider how to approach this next. After all, he was just barely grown. The young man had no experience being a formal leader and he didn’t have the faintest clue about how he was supposed to handle such a public tragedy. He had an overwhelming urge to just flee this moment and leave it to others, but he knew that this was a terrible decision. Whether he liked it or not, he was going to learn how to handle moments like this.
“For all of those worried about evidence, it’s still there. Just underneath the blanket where it will remain for now.” Timaeus muttered as he considered the rest of what Damocles had said. A lockdown order would be simple enough… but he knew that the people of Eubocris would not take kindly to such an order. They already hated his family. Hearing that the one who had been missing for four years was now demanding that they all remain in their homes would not go over well. There had to be a different solution to this problem. Glancing elsewhere, Timaeus took a moment to think through the possibilities before settling on a course of action that he thought would be best. Granted, the others surrounding him would likely have a few choice words about it now that Adelpha had also stepped forward and added another outsider to the circle around Timaeus.
Beckoning to one of the men that Timaeus had brought with him to Eubocris, Timaeus instructed, “Go forward to the unit and summon their fastest riders. Those men are to travel down the main road and stop anyone traveling out of the province. We passed a few men on the way here if I recall.” Timaeus was quick to note, remembering clearly how difficult it had been to pass these strangers on such a narrow road, “Any and all outsiders in Eubocris are to be stopped and questioned. All carts are to be searched. If you find persons of interest, they are to be detained immediately, am I understood?” The lackey was quick to nod as both men remained in the dark about the fact that every single person surrounding Timaeus was not from Eubocris and thus considered suspects just on the mere count of not calling this mountainous province home. Likely this would cause quite a stir among those surrounding Tim.
However, any possible protests were dulled in his mind as the young woman that the girl who brought the blankets identified as Adelpha noticed something that the Captain had missed. The markings on her forehead. Timaeus had been so focused on preserving her dignity that he had not thought to take a closer look at the blood on her forehead, thinking that it was just the mark of where her fatal blow had landed. However, he could now see that it was something much more complex than that. It was a carving of some sort, but of what, Timaeus could not see. There was too much blood in the way. He was half-tempted to clear it away with a loose rag, but he knew that people would not react well to this. He didn’t feel the same way about whatever filled her mouth.
As others turned their eyes to her mouth, Timaeus cautiously leaned forward and pried open the girl’s jaw that was stiffly locked in the hours following her death. With as much care as he could muster given the situation, the Captain pulled the animal part loose and held it outstretched in his palm for all to see. His brows furrowed in confusion at the bloody mass as he tried to identify it in this state with so many people around.
“What on earth?...” The captain quietly muttered as he turned it over in his grasp, unsure of what to make of this discovery.
The two noblemen or soldiers or whatever they were seemed to know eachother. And as such they were too busy arguing over whether or not to blanket the body that they didn't even hear Adelpha's question at all. But that was to be expected. She was far below their station and status. What would she be able to provide that they could not?
Hearing that the roads were to be closed didn't sit well with her either. But perhaps she'd continue to be unnoticed and slip through the closure easily enough. Afterall she didn't have a cart or horse. She either hitched a ride or walked, with her artwork bundled up. That is when she was at markets selling them. Much like today.
The sound of a familiar voice caught her attention. Turning to it, Adelpha was shocked to find Celine standing behind her. "What are you doing here? Are you alright?" One look was all that she needed to see that she was suffering from the altitude. "Do you need to sit down?"
Murmers from the crowd as Tim pulled out the thing once trapped in the girl's mouth caught her attention. And so like them all, Adelpha pressed forward to see what it was that he held in his hand. It almost looked like a tongue, but wasn't. The shape was similar, yet the bumps along it were much bigger. Others nearby pushed her out of the way and so she stepped back towards Celine.
Only one thing came to mind as to what it could possibly be, given her limited knowledge. "It looks like an arm of a starfish..." The carving of the moon on the girl's forehead, her golden locks like the sun and a possible starfish seemed to have some connection. Yet her mindset was one of an artist; finding imagery in everyday things that others didn't see. Her quick glance at the object was more than likely not good enough to get it right. For all she knew, it could have been a part of some animal that was commonplace in the mountains.
"What are you doing here, Celine? I figured it'd be too dangerous for you. Or will it get better over time?" Maybe time was all that Celine needed to get used to the cold and thin mountain air.
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The two noblemen or soldiers or whatever they were seemed to know eachother. And as such they were too busy arguing over whether or not to blanket the body that they didn't even hear Adelpha's question at all. But that was to be expected. She was far below their station and status. What would she be able to provide that they could not?
Hearing that the roads were to be closed didn't sit well with her either. But perhaps she'd continue to be unnoticed and slip through the closure easily enough. Afterall she didn't have a cart or horse. She either hitched a ride or walked, with her artwork bundled up. That is when she was at markets selling them. Much like today.
The sound of a familiar voice caught her attention. Turning to it, Adelpha was shocked to find Celine standing behind her. "What are you doing here? Are you alright?" One look was all that she needed to see that she was suffering from the altitude. "Do you need to sit down?"
Murmers from the crowd as Tim pulled out the thing once trapped in the girl's mouth caught her attention. And so like them all, Adelpha pressed forward to see what it was that he held in his hand. It almost looked like a tongue, but wasn't. The shape was similar, yet the bumps along it were much bigger. Others nearby pushed her out of the way and so she stepped back towards Celine.
Only one thing came to mind as to what it could possibly be, given her limited knowledge. "It looks like an arm of a starfish..." The carving of the moon on the girl's forehead, her golden locks like the sun and a possible starfish seemed to have some connection. Yet her mindset was one of an artist; finding imagery in everyday things that others didn't see. Her quick glance at the object was more than likely not good enough to get it right. For all she knew, it could have been a part of some animal that was commonplace in the mountains.
"What are you doing here, Celine? I figured it'd be too dangerous for you. Or will it get better over time?" Maybe time was all that Celine needed to get used to the cold and thin mountain air.
The two noblemen or soldiers or whatever they were seemed to know eachother. And as such they were too busy arguing over whether or not to blanket the body that they didn't even hear Adelpha's question at all. But that was to be expected. She was far below their station and status. What would she be able to provide that they could not?
Hearing that the roads were to be closed didn't sit well with her either. But perhaps she'd continue to be unnoticed and slip through the closure easily enough. Afterall she didn't have a cart or horse. She either hitched a ride or walked, with her artwork bundled up. That is when she was at markets selling them. Much like today.
The sound of a familiar voice caught her attention. Turning to it, Adelpha was shocked to find Celine standing behind her. "What are you doing here? Are you alright?" One look was all that she needed to see that she was suffering from the altitude. "Do you need to sit down?"
Murmers from the crowd as Tim pulled out the thing once trapped in the girl's mouth caught her attention. And so like them all, Adelpha pressed forward to see what it was that he held in his hand. It almost looked like a tongue, but wasn't. The shape was similar, yet the bumps along it were much bigger. Others nearby pushed her out of the way and so she stepped back towards Celine.
Only one thing came to mind as to what it could possibly be, given her limited knowledge. "It looks like an arm of a starfish..." The carving of the moon on the girl's forehead, her golden locks like the sun and a possible starfish seemed to have some connection. Yet her mindset was one of an artist; finding imagery in everyday things that others didn't see. Her quick glance at the object was more than likely not good enough to get it right. For all she knew, it could have been a part of some animal that was commonplace in the mountains.
"What are you doing here, Celine? I figured it'd be too dangerous for you. Or will it get better over time?" Maybe time was all that Celine needed to get used to the cold and thin mountain air.
Curveball Artemis' Honour
As the crowds gather and people wish to lay eyes upon the naked victim left to rot in the open courtyard, the Valaoritis Lord steps forward to investigate the body further. As the meat-like piece is removed from the girl's mouth it is clear that exposure to the elements and blood loss has seen it shrivel and change shape. But upon closer inspection, it is clearly a severed human phallus...
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As the crowds gather and people wish to lay eyes upon the naked victim left to rot in the open courtyard, the Valaoritis Lord steps forward to investigate the body further. As the meat-like piece is removed from the girl's mouth it is clear that exposure to the elements and blood loss has seen it shrivel and change shape. But upon closer inspection, it is clearly a severed human phallus...
Curveball Artemis' Honour
As the crowds gather and people wish to lay eyes upon the naked victim left to rot in the open courtyard, the Valaoritis Lord steps forward to investigate the body further. As the meat-like piece is removed from the girl's mouth it is clear that exposure to the elements and blood loss has seen it shrivel and change shape. But upon closer inspection, it is clearly a severed human phallus...
The family of former Taengeans were not necessarily surprised by the new development. To Celine, it only seemed that her personal theory seemed to make more sense. Before leaving the blanket as instructed by the lord, Celine smiled a strange, wobbly smile. "Thank you. my lord." Perhaps he was at least a little aware of a few of the deeper reasons why such a spectacle as this might frighten her despite her lack of fear of blood and dirt. "Um... maybe you might be able to tell me something?" she asked him hopefully. "Considering the...um...newest...thing, it either seems a complete disavowal of her...because priestesses are usually supposed to be virgins unless they became priestesses late in life, so maybe she... broke that vow and they found out...or, as I may guess due to my own family's story... maybe, with the strange symbols as well, such things have been done by gang members. Would you happen to be aware of any gangs around here?" She shivered, and thanked the gods no groups like that were after her family, that they knew of. "And where might the other body be? The man."
After all, it might stand to reason that if there was a dismembered phallus, the rest had to be somewhere, unless that part had perhaps been cut off as a punishment of some sort.
She tried to smile at Adelpha when her friend noticed her. "Maybe I shouldn't be here, but we needed new court clothes," she explained. "And my father wanted to visit a friend of his who lives here. It doesn't get better, exactly, but tea helps. So does water. Sitting down might help... but...um..." she gulped and glanced uneasily at the dead body.
She needed to be hugged, or to get out of here, and she hoped for both. now that she had seen Adelpha. Someone's suggestion of a- hopefully short- lock-down scared her too, considering that the altitude was making her feel funny already without staying here longer than she absolutely might have to.
"Where to sit?" she finished weakly. "Other than that- besides breathing trouble...I'm just scared. I'd rather not remember some things that I am right now."
Including that someone- or a bad group of someones, like a gang- might have burned down her house five years ago, too.
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The family of former Taengeans were not necessarily surprised by the new development. To Celine, it only seemed that her personal theory seemed to make more sense. Before leaving the blanket as instructed by the lord, Celine smiled a strange, wobbly smile. "Thank you. my lord." Perhaps he was at least a little aware of a few of the deeper reasons why such a spectacle as this might frighten her despite her lack of fear of blood and dirt. "Um... maybe you might be able to tell me something?" she asked him hopefully. "Considering the...um...newest...thing, it either seems a complete disavowal of her...because priestesses are usually supposed to be virgins unless they became priestesses late in life, so maybe she... broke that vow and they found out...or, as I may guess due to my own family's story... maybe, with the strange symbols as well, such things have been done by gang members. Would you happen to be aware of any gangs around here?" She shivered, and thanked the gods no groups like that were after her family, that they knew of. "And where might the other body be? The man."
After all, it might stand to reason that if there was a dismembered phallus, the rest had to be somewhere, unless that part had perhaps been cut off as a punishment of some sort.
She tried to smile at Adelpha when her friend noticed her. "Maybe I shouldn't be here, but we needed new court clothes," she explained. "And my father wanted to visit a friend of his who lives here. It doesn't get better, exactly, but tea helps. So does water. Sitting down might help... but...um..." she gulped and glanced uneasily at the dead body.
She needed to be hugged, or to get out of here, and she hoped for both. now that she had seen Adelpha. Someone's suggestion of a- hopefully short- lock-down scared her too, considering that the altitude was making her feel funny already without staying here longer than she absolutely might have to.
"Where to sit?" she finished weakly. "Other than that- besides breathing trouble...I'm just scared. I'd rather not remember some things that I am right now."
Including that someone- or a bad group of someones, like a gang- might have burned down her house five years ago, too.
The family of former Taengeans were not necessarily surprised by the new development. To Celine, it only seemed that her personal theory seemed to make more sense. Before leaving the blanket as instructed by the lord, Celine smiled a strange, wobbly smile. "Thank you. my lord." Perhaps he was at least a little aware of a few of the deeper reasons why such a spectacle as this might frighten her despite her lack of fear of blood and dirt. "Um... maybe you might be able to tell me something?" she asked him hopefully. "Considering the...um...newest...thing, it either seems a complete disavowal of her...because priestesses are usually supposed to be virgins unless they became priestesses late in life, so maybe she... broke that vow and they found out...or, as I may guess due to my own family's story... maybe, with the strange symbols as well, such things have been done by gang members. Would you happen to be aware of any gangs around here?" She shivered, and thanked the gods no groups like that were after her family, that they knew of. "And where might the other body be? The man."
After all, it might stand to reason that if there was a dismembered phallus, the rest had to be somewhere, unless that part had perhaps been cut off as a punishment of some sort.
She tried to smile at Adelpha when her friend noticed her. "Maybe I shouldn't be here, but we needed new court clothes," she explained. "And my father wanted to visit a friend of his who lives here. It doesn't get better, exactly, but tea helps. So does water. Sitting down might help... but...um..." she gulped and glanced uneasily at the dead body.
She needed to be hugged, or to get out of here, and she hoped for both. now that she had seen Adelpha. Someone's suggestion of a- hopefully short- lock-down scared her too, considering that the altitude was making her feel funny already without staying here longer than she absolutely might have to.
"Where to sit?" she finished weakly. "Other than that- besides breathing trouble...I'm just scared. I'd rather not remember some things that I am right now."
Including that someone- or a bad group of someones, like a gang- might have burned down her house five years ago, too.
Well...this was becoming fun...
Though he kept his features stoic and nonresponsive to the newest developments of the crime, Damocles felt pressured to hold back the grin that he wanted to show off at the sight of the dismembered cock that had been retrieved in the worst way possible. Perhaps, it was because those around him were of an inferior ability than his own, he thought, but there was much humor to be found at this coming hour with this most fascinating of developments. Surely, there was much that could be welcomed for the sake of chaos and madness. After all, if past experienced had taught him anything, discord always offered up a veritable list of opportunities, if one was cunning, cleaver and brave enough to seek them out.
His silver eyes narrowed in on a conversation he overheard between a woman who seemed to be far too involved in this process. He detected hesitation and discomfort in her presence, a certain scrupulousness that had him metaphorically, but not physically, rolling his eyes. Silly girl, if you weren't ready to look at a corpse and take the heat of a crime, it was best to stay away and busy oneself with other, more mundane matters. So what if a man had lost his cock? That was just a red-herring in his own personal opinion. If he had been the criminal, he would've wasted no time in slicing up another random idiot and use that person as a wonderful, little distraction so as to cast suspicions away. He was not convinced at all that the cock was of any real importance. Alas, further research had t be conducted before a thorough judgement could be rendered.
"Allow me to examine the organ." he said, reaching out unscrupulously as he grabbed the fleshy member and took it in his hands, staring at it intently and with meticulous detail so as to recall every tiny aspect that might confirm his hypothesis. He did not care for the stares or gasps of surprised shock that escaped the gathered masses. There was no way to make a more thorough investigation unless one was bold and decisive. Thus, without any hesitation on his part, he analyzed, realizing that there was a dotted line of sorts that showed by the frenulum. "This belongs to a slave..." he grimly said, noticing a familiar markings pattern that ran along the length of the organ that betrayed its former owner's profession. "And based on the pattern of the tattoo, I would say this slave was a pillow slave, beholden to the industry of pleasure and desire." he further elaborated, raising his stare from his insight before handling the phallus back to whomever wanted it.
"If you pay attention to the penis, it is surprisingly cold and darkened, suggesting that it has long been part of a deceased body. Naturally, when souls pass unto our Lord @hades 's realm, their bodies, if not given the proper rites, turn to darkening before the rot sets in. When analyzing the member, there are clear indicators suggesting that the owner of the cock was most likely already dead before this girl met her end, but not long-enough passed for the proper funerary practices to be conducted and the body be cremated. Thus, it is my theory that the criminal purposely severed the member off another, already dead individual, and then stuffed it into the mouth of the victim." He solidly concluded, presenting a rock-solid argument for it being non-important to what was going on right now.
"I do not know why this action could have happened. Nevertheless, if we narrow down the list of suspects to an appropriate minimum, we might be able to better solve this puzzle." He conceded, knowing that using his own hypothesis of it being just a diversion could cast serious doubts. "I believe we might be able to do this based on the profile that we already know. The owner of this penis was: male, a sex slave, and someone who most likely died a few days prior, but not prior enough for a proper funeral to be conducted." Once more the darkly-dressed militant addressed, making a mental note that perhaps, this killer had been even more stupid than he had initially considered. Then again, there still was the idea that it was all possibly a distraction. In which case, this murderer would be far more interesting than he currently gave him credit for. Regardless, one thing was clear: a killer was amongst them, and nobody right now could be trusted. Bloodthirst could easily set once more, but based on what he suspected, this murderer was not that organized and calculating. Perhaps, this was a crime of passion, committed in a last minute accident driven apart by two lovers, but more information would be required before that could be argued with the same conviction of force that the charismatic Damocles had presented before.
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Well...this was becoming fun...
Though he kept his features stoic and nonresponsive to the newest developments of the crime, Damocles felt pressured to hold back the grin that he wanted to show off at the sight of the dismembered cock that had been retrieved in the worst way possible. Perhaps, it was because those around him were of an inferior ability than his own, he thought, but there was much humor to be found at this coming hour with this most fascinating of developments. Surely, there was much that could be welcomed for the sake of chaos and madness. After all, if past experienced had taught him anything, discord always offered up a veritable list of opportunities, if one was cunning, cleaver and brave enough to seek them out.
His silver eyes narrowed in on a conversation he overheard between a woman who seemed to be far too involved in this process. He detected hesitation and discomfort in her presence, a certain scrupulousness that had him metaphorically, but not physically, rolling his eyes. Silly girl, if you weren't ready to look at a corpse and take the heat of a crime, it was best to stay away and busy oneself with other, more mundane matters. So what if a man had lost his cock? That was just a red-herring in his own personal opinion. If he had been the criminal, he would've wasted no time in slicing up another random idiot and use that person as a wonderful, little distraction so as to cast suspicions away. He was not convinced at all that the cock was of any real importance. Alas, further research had t be conducted before a thorough judgement could be rendered.
"Allow me to examine the organ." he said, reaching out unscrupulously as he grabbed the fleshy member and took it in his hands, staring at it intently and with meticulous detail so as to recall every tiny aspect that might confirm his hypothesis. He did not care for the stares or gasps of surprised shock that escaped the gathered masses. There was no way to make a more thorough investigation unless one was bold and decisive. Thus, without any hesitation on his part, he analyzed, realizing that there was a dotted line of sorts that showed by the frenulum. "This belongs to a slave..." he grimly said, noticing a familiar markings pattern that ran along the length of the organ that betrayed its former owner's profession. "And based on the pattern of the tattoo, I would say this slave was a pillow slave, beholden to the industry of pleasure and desire." he further elaborated, raising his stare from his insight before handling the phallus back to whomever wanted it.
"If you pay attention to the penis, it is surprisingly cold and darkened, suggesting that it has long been part of a deceased body. Naturally, when souls pass unto our Lord @hades 's realm, their bodies, if not given the proper rites, turn to darkening before the rot sets in. When analyzing the member, there are clear indicators suggesting that the owner of the cock was most likely already dead before this girl met her end, but not long-enough passed for the proper funerary practices to be conducted and the body be cremated. Thus, it is my theory that the criminal purposely severed the member off another, already dead individual, and then stuffed it into the mouth of the victim." He solidly concluded, presenting a rock-solid argument for it being non-important to what was going on right now.
"I do not know why this action could have happened. Nevertheless, if we narrow down the list of suspects to an appropriate minimum, we might be able to better solve this puzzle." He conceded, knowing that using his own hypothesis of it being just a diversion could cast serious doubts. "I believe we might be able to do this based on the profile that we already know. The owner of this penis was: male, a sex slave, and someone who most likely died a few days prior, but not prior enough for a proper funeral to be conducted." Once more the darkly-dressed militant addressed, making a mental note that perhaps, this killer had been even more stupid than he had initially considered. Then again, there still was the idea that it was all possibly a distraction. In which case, this murderer would be far more interesting than he currently gave him credit for. Regardless, one thing was clear: a killer was amongst them, and nobody right now could be trusted. Bloodthirst could easily set once more, but based on what he suspected, this murderer was not that organized and calculating. Perhaps, this was a crime of passion, committed in a last minute accident driven apart by two lovers, but more information would be required before that could be argued with the same conviction of force that the charismatic Damocles had presented before.
Well...this was becoming fun...
Though he kept his features stoic and nonresponsive to the newest developments of the crime, Damocles felt pressured to hold back the grin that he wanted to show off at the sight of the dismembered cock that had been retrieved in the worst way possible. Perhaps, it was because those around him were of an inferior ability than his own, he thought, but there was much humor to be found at this coming hour with this most fascinating of developments. Surely, there was much that could be welcomed for the sake of chaos and madness. After all, if past experienced had taught him anything, discord always offered up a veritable list of opportunities, if one was cunning, cleaver and brave enough to seek them out.
His silver eyes narrowed in on a conversation he overheard between a woman who seemed to be far too involved in this process. He detected hesitation and discomfort in her presence, a certain scrupulousness that had him metaphorically, but not physically, rolling his eyes. Silly girl, if you weren't ready to look at a corpse and take the heat of a crime, it was best to stay away and busy oneself with other, more mundane matters. So what if a man had lost his cock? That was just a red-herring in his own personal opinion. If he had been the criminal, he would've wasted no time in slicing up another random idiot and use that person as a wonderful, little distraction so as to cast suspicions away. He was not convinced at all that the cock was of any real importance. Alas, further research had t be conducted before a thorough judgement could be rendered.
"Allow me to examine the organ." he said, reaching out unscrupulously as he grabbed the fleshy member and took it in his hands, staring at it intently and with meticulous detail so as to recall every tiny aspect that might confirm his hypothesis. He did not care for the stares or gasps of surprised shock that escaped the gathered masses. There was no way to make a more thorough investigation unless one was bold and decisive. Thus, without any hesitation on his part, he analyzed, realizing that there was a dotted line of sorts that showed by the frenulum. "This belongs to a slave..." he grimly said, noticing a familiar markings pattern that ran along the length of the organ that betrayed its former owner's profession. "And based on the pattern of the tattoo, I would say this slave was a pillow slave, beholden to the industry of pleasure and desire." he further elaborated, raising his stare from his insight before handling the phallus back to whomever wanted it.
"If you pay attention to the penis, it is surprisingly cold and darkened, suggesting that it has long been part of a deceased body. Naturally, when souls pass unto our Lord @hades 's realm, their bodies, if not given the proper rites, turn to darkening before the rot sets in. When analyzing the member, there are clear indicators suggesting that the owner of the cock was most likely already dead before this girl met her end, but not long-enough passed for the proper funerary practices to be conducted and the body be cremated. Thus, it is my theory that the criminal purposely severed the member off another, already dead individual, and then stuffed it into the mouth of the victim." He solidly concluded, presenting a rock-solid argument for it being non-important to what was going on right now.
"I do not know why this action could have happened. Nevertheless, if we narrow down the list of suspects to an appropriate minimum, we might be able to better solve this puzzle." He conceded, knowing that using his own hypothesis of it being just a diversion could cast serious doubts. "I believe we might be able to do this based on the profile that we already know. The owner of this penis was: male, a sex slave, and someone who most likely died a few days prior, but not prior enough for a proper funeral to be conducted." Once more the darkly-dressed militant addressed, making a mental note that perhaps, this killer had been even more stupid than he had initially considered. Then again, there still was the idea that it was all possibly a distraction. In which case, this murderer would be far more interesting than he currently gave him credit for. Regardless, one thing was clear: a killer was amongst them, and nobody right now could be trusted. Bloodthirst could easily set once more, but based on what he suspected, this murderer was not that organized and calculating. Perhaps, this was a crime of passion, committed in a last minute accident driven apart by two lovers, but more information would be required before that could be argued with the same conviction of force that the charismatic Damocles had presented before.
Timaeus thought that he knew what regret felt like before this moment. Though now, he could never recall that feeling being so strong as the moment he pried open the dead girl’s jaw and released the hidden appendage from her mouth. The sickening feeling, twisting and turning deep within his gut washed over him the moment that the young man’s fingertips brushed against the severed animal part, covering it in a thick slime that made the poor boy dry heave. Things didn’t seem to get any better once the newly-minted captain was finally able to have the entirety of it in his hands. The slab of meat (which was what it really was now that it had been given the chance to decompose for a bit longer than the girl) was purple and putrid, thick and fat with the gases that were breaking it down whatever this thing was, giving off such a horrible smell. In fact, at first glance, Timaeus had thought that it was nothing more than some sort of food item -- one last meal that the girl never got a chance to finish chewing. That was the most logical explanation for the young Lord as he shifted the mysterious flesh in his hand and took note of the almost cylindrical shape that it had, even in its horribly bloated state.
By this point, the smell was so rotten and pungent that the Valaoritis had no choice but to pull the neck of his chiton up and over his nose that he might be able to push back the horrible scent of death as he tried to make sense of this obvious clue that the group had found. The smell was so terrible and the innate urge to discard it was so strong that the twenty-year-old actually had tears welling in the corners of his eyes, brought about by the same phenomena that occurred whenever he was near freshly cut onions. It blurred his vision momentarily, preventing him from getting a good and proper look at the meat in his hand as he turned it back and forth, trying to explain why it was so severely decomposed but had an obvious lack of fly eggs on it. Timaeus was no friend of death, but he had seen what could happen to the stray bit of fish meat left on the floor after a meal and how quickly a store of fresh food could go rancid if left to the devices of insects from his time out at sea. So, the obvious lack of flies bothered him, but maybe it could have been just easy explained away by the fact that they couldn’t have gotten to them with it being enclosed in the girl’s mouth for so long? That was a reasonable enough explanation, one that satisfied this young man’s logic, but even so, something felt wrong. Like there wasn’t something right with this slab of decaying meat in his hands.
Timaeus wasn’t sure what it was at first that was tempting him to lose his lunch. However, as he cleared his eyes he noticed something that he had missed earlier in his blurred vision. One end of the mysterious body part was thicker than the other end. A quick brush of his fingertips over the bulbous end confirmed the sickening feeling developing in his stomach. A horrified shout left Timaeus as his instincts forced the young man to fling the object out of his palm as his stomach jumped into his throat. That was a dick. The girl had a severed cock in her mouth and he had touched it.
Suddenly not giving a crap about protecting the crime scene, Timaeus didn’t even voice his discovery to the crowd that had formed. He couldn’t even do so if he wanted to as he was too busy trying to resist the urge the puke as he scrambled away from the poor girl, clutching at his stomach. Making over to the edge of the group forming, into a gap formed by two nearby market stalls, Timaeus let loose the contents of his stomach. As unsightly as it was, Tim didn’t really have much of a choice as his body decided to purge itself of the grossness of the situation by turning itself inside out. The captain was pretty sure that this wasn’t an effective method, but he couldn’t really do anything about it. Not when his thoughts drifted between making sure that none of his own vomit splashed on his shoes and wanting to cut his own hand off for touching that disgusting thing. He could feel his fingers still tingling from the oozy slime that it had been covering the phallus, practically beckoning the young lord to draw his own sword and rid himself of the repulsive feeling that came with the knowledge that he had touched another man’s severed dick. The thought was so vile and so wrong that Timaeus couldn’t even really comprehend the fact that he had just found a cock in a dead girl’s mouth.
As the Valaoritis lord was too busy upchucking the last meal he had in Midas, the others seemed to take notice of what he had found. Although a lot of it was muffled from his dry heaving, he was able to catch the main gist of what was being said closer to the body. Even though Celine was unlikely to notice the movement, Timaeus was already shaking his head in regard to her question about whether or not there were gangs in Eubocris. No, not a chance. He may have been gone for four years, but when he was younger such things were never a problem. If they had become one, Tim was certain that his brother would tell him as it would straddle that grey line of Tim possibly needing to be the one who took care of it while the Baron handled other issues. There had been no such chatter so there had to be a different explanation for why a dead girl showed up in the middle of Eubocris with a… a.. that thing in her mouth. Good gods, Tim didn’t even want to mention it.
However, luckily the thought paled as Timaeus stepped away from the equally gross puddle of his own upchucking and motioned for a slave to come to him with a spare rag so that the Captain could rid himself of the disgusting substances. The poor boy who had accompanied Timaeus from the capital did not look pleased with the present that his master had left him to clean up, but the Valaoritis lord didn’t care all that much. After all, it wasn’t fair to merchants or the marketgoers to just leave that lying around and there was no way a noble was going to stoop to that level. After he finally felt somewhat clean again, Timaeus cautiously made his way back towards the group with his stomach feeling both sensitive still and his body utterly exhausted. That was likely why Timaeus was so quiet at first, giving himself a chance to recover as he returned just in time to hear the tail end of Damo’s spiel about where the cock had come from.
It was rather interesting to the young lord, to say the very least, but not in the way that the older man would have hoped the newly-minted Captain would have taken note of his observations. In fact, after hearing Damo go into great detail about the so-called properties of the cock that he now held, Timaeus was starting to wonder if it was no coincidence that this man was here in the mountainous province at just the right time for a body to show up. He was fairly certain that he wasn’t the only one who thought it as the gathered crowd reacted to Damo’s words and the lack of a reaction the captain seemed to have to hold the disgusting appendage in his hands. With Timaeus now back in the group, there was a very stark contrast in how the two men had reacted. While the young lord was repulsed to the point that he was forced to vomit, Damocles seemed almost unbothered by the penis. He was unnervingly collected as he examined the body part, making note of things that Timaeus was fairly certain that he had not seen. Add that to the blase way that he had approached the fact that there was a dead girl in the market and the captain had actually argued for the body to remain uncovered… Timaeus could not rule out the other military man as a suspect. In fact, on the shortlist of possible men that could have done this, Damocles was at the top of his list.
Even though there was already a murmuring in the crowd, questioning how the Captain somehow knew so much about what was going on, they weren’t given a voice until Timaeus spoke. “You seem to know a lot from just a cock, Sir Damocles. Tell me, what exactly was your business in my family’s province?” His voice wavered slightly from the stinging burn that came from the vomit earlier, but the accusation was loud and clear for all to witness. Damocles knew too much and had acted questionably in response to what had happened thus far. Not to mention that Timaeus’s only other interaction with this man had shown the military Captain to be unstable and irrational if his little stunt of throwing a spear at multiple Taengean princes all those years ago was anything to go by and now suddenly the man was the calmest out of all of them? It was all rather suspect to Timaeus and he was not keen to let this man out of his sight until the group got to the bottom of it.
In fact, Timaeus was so certain in his accusation that subconsciously moved to put himself between the two other women, and this man he thought to be the murderer. He wasn’t even really aware that his feet were moving until he found himself at a new angle, staring down the Drakos man, waiting for some sort of response that would satisfy Timaeus. Not that the man could really do that anyway. Damocles had been here on military matters, but with Timaeus being so green and only just returning to the military unit he had now been given to rule, he was going to doubt the other man’s claim of being here for that sort of thing as there would have been no one of suitable rank to greet him or give him such permission to bring his men here.
Leaving this momentarily as a bridge that will be crossed when the other captain spoke again, Timaeus turned when he caught snippets of conversation from the two merchant daughters, reminding him that he never spoke up in defense of the people of Eubocris. “Forgive my interruption, but there are no gangs in Eubocris miss -- wait are you alright?” His simple statement transformed into a question of worry as he noticed how pale one of the women looked. Even though he could be a massive jerk when he was in a state, he was capable of great compassion and that was what compelled him to move to Celine’s side and offer some sort of physical support for the girl who looked like she was one gentle breeze away from falling over. Another person rushed over to bring a stool that was offered to the young woman.
“What happened? Is everything alright -- You spoke of Priestesses, did you know her?” Timaeus asked in a rush as his eyes darted between both Adelpha and Celine, hoping that one of the two women would be able to explain what happened to the military captain to not have noticed what was occurring on the sidelines right away. Hopefully, everything was alright. After all, the last thing that this group needed was another disaster on their hands.
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Timaeus thought that he knew what regret felt like before this moment. Though now, he could never recall that feeling being so strong as the moment he pried open the dead girl’s jaw and released the hidden appendage from her mouth. The sickening feeling, twisting and turning deep within his gut washed over him the moment that the young man’s fingertips brushed against the severed animal part, covering it in a thick slime that made the poor boy dry heave. Things didn’t seem to get any better once the newly-minted captain was finally able to have the entirety of it in his hands. The slab of meat (which was what it really was now that it had been given the chance to decompose for a bit longer than the girl) was purple and putrid, thick and fat with the gases that were breaking it down whatever this thing was, giving off such a horrible smell. In fact, at first glance, Timaeus had thought that it was nothing more than some sort of food item -- one last meal that the girl never got a chance to finish chewing. That was the most logical explanation for the young Lord as he shifted the mysterious flesh in his hand and took note of the almost cylindrical shape that it had, even in its horribly bloated state.
By this point, the smell was so rotten and pungent that the Valaoritis had no choice but to pull the neck of his chiton up and over his nose that he might be able to push back the horrible scent of death as he tried to make sense of this obvious clue that the group had found. The smell was so terrible and the innate urge to discard it was so strong that the twenty-year-old actually had tears welling in the corners of his eyes, brought about by the same phenomena that occurred whenever he was near freshly cut onions. It blurred his vision momentarily, preventing him from getting a good and proper look at the meat in his hand as he turned it back and forth, trying to explain why it was so severely decomposed but had an obvious lack of fly eggs on it. Timaeus was no friend of death, but he had seen what could happen to the stray bit of fish meat left on the floor after a meal and how quickly a store of fresh food could go rancid if left to the devices of insects from his time out at sea. So, the obvious lack of flies bothered him, but maybe it could have been just easy explained away by the fact that they couldn’t have gotten to them with it being enclosed in the girl’s mouth for so long? That was a reasonable enough explanation, one that satisfied this young man’s logic, but even so, something felt wrong. Like there wasn’t something right with this slab of decaying meat in his hands.
Timaeus wasn’t sure what it was at first that was tempting him to lose his lunch. However, as he cleared his eyes he noticed something that he had missed earlier in his blurred vision. One end of the mysterious body part was thicker than the other end. A quick brush of his fingertips over the bulbous end confirmed the sickening feeling developing in his stomach. A horrified shout left Timaeus as his instincts forced the young man to fling the object out of his palm as his stomach jumped into his throat. That was a dick. The girl had a severed cock in her mouth and he had touched it.
Suddenly not giving a crap about protecting the crime scene, Timaeus didn’t even voice his discovery to the crowd that had formed. He couldn’t even do so if he wanted to as he was too busy trying to resist the urge the puke as he scrambled away from the poor girl, clutching at his stomach. Making over to the edge of the group forming, into a gap formed by two nearby market stalls, Timaeus let loose the contents of his stomach. As unsightly as it was, Tim didn’t really have much of a choice as his body decided to purge itself of the grossness of the situation by turning itself inside out. The captain was pretty sure that this wasn’t an effective method, but he couldn’t really do anything about it. Not when his thoughts drifted between making sure that none of his own vomit splashed on his shoes and wanting to cut his own hand off for touching that disgusting thing. He could feel his fingers still tingling from the oozy slime that it had been covering the phallus, practically beckoning the young lord to draw his own sword and rid himself of the repulsive feeling that came with the knowledge that he had touched another man’s severed dick. The thought was so vile and so wrong that Timaeus couldn’t even really comprehend the fact that he had just found a cock in a dead girl’s mouth.
As the Valaoritis lord was too busy upchucking the last meal he had in Midas, the others seemed to take notice of what he had found. Although a lot of it was muffled from his dry heaving, he was able to catch the main gist of what was being said closer to the body. Even though Celine was unlikely to notice the movement, Timaeus was already shaking his head in regard to her question about whether or not there were gangs in Eubocris. No, not a chance. He may have been gone for four years, but when he was younger such things were never a problem. If they had become one, Tim was certain that his brother would tell him as it would straddle that grey line of Tim possibly needing to be the one who took care of it while the Baron handled other issues. There had been no such chatter so there had to be a different explanation for why a dead girl showed up in the middle of Eubocris with a… a.. that thing in her mouth. Good gods, Tim didn’t even want to mention it.
However, luckily the thought paled as Timaeus stepped away from the equally gross puddle of his own upchucking and motioned for a slave to come to him with a spare rag so that the Captain could rid himself of the disgusting substances. The poor boy who had accompanied Timaeus from the capital did not look pleased with the present that his master had left him to clean up, but the Valaoritis lord didn’t care all that much. After all, it wasn’t fair to merchants or the marketgoers to just leave that lying around and there was no way a noble was going to stoop to that level. After he finally felt somewhat clean again, Timaeus cautiously made his way back towards the group with his stomach feeling both sensitive still and his body utterly exhausted. That was likely why Timaeus was so quiet at first, giving himself a chance to recover as he returned just in time to hear the tail end of Damo’s spiel about where the cock had come from.
It was rather interesting to the young lord, to say the very least, but not in the way that the older man would have hoped the newly-minted Captain would have taken note of his observations. In fact, after hearing Damo go into great detail about the so-called properties of the cock that he now held, Timaeus was starting to wonder if it was no coincidence that this man was here in the mountainous province at just the right time for a body to show up. He was fairly certain that he wasn’t the only one who thought it as the gathered crowd reacted to Damo’s words and the lack of a reaction the captain seemed to have to hold the disgusting appendage in his hands. With Timaeus now back in the group, there was a very stark contrast in how the two men had reacted. While the young lord was repulsed to the point that he was forced to vomit, Damocles seemed almost unbothered by the penis. He was unnervingly collected as he examined the body part, making note of things that Timaeus was fairly certain that he had not seen. Add that to the blase way that he had approached the fact that there was a dead girl in the market and the captain had actually argued for the body to remain uncovered… Timaeus could not rule out the other military man as a suspect. In fact, on the shortlist of possible men that could have done this, Damocles was at the top of his list.
Even though there was already a murmuring in the crowd, questioning how the Captain somehow knew so much about what was going on, they weren’t given a voice until Timaeus spoke. “You seem to know a lot from just a cock, Sir Damocles. Tell me, what exactly was your business in my family’s province?” His voice wavered slightly from the stinging burn that came from the vomit earlier, but the accusation was loud and clear for all to witness. Damocles knew too much and had acted questionably in response to what had happened thus far. Not to mention that Timaeus’s only other interaction with this man had shown the military Captain to be unstable and irrational if his little stunt of throwing a spear at multiple Taengean princes all those years ago was anything to go by and now suddenly the man was the calmest out of all of them? It was all rather suspect to Timaeus and he was not keen to let this man out of his sight until the group got to the bottom of it.
In fact, Timaeus was so certain in his accusation that subconsciously moved to put himself between the two other women, and this man he thought to be the murderer. He wasn’t even really aware that his feet were moving until he found himself at a new angle, staring down the Drakos man, waiting for some sort of response that would satisfy Timaeus. Not that the man could really do that anyway. Damocles had been here on military matters, but with Timaeus being so green and only just returning to the military unit he had now been given to rule, he was going to doubt the other man’s claim of being here for that sort of thing as there would have been no one of suitable rank to greet him or give him such permission to bring his men here.
Leaving this momentarily as a bridge that will be crossed when the other captain spoke again, Timaeus turned when he caught snippets of conversation from the two merchant daughters, reminding him that he never spoke up in defense of the people of Eubocris. “Forgive my interruption, but there are no gangs in Eubocris miss -- wait are you alright?” His simple statement transformed into a question of worry as he noticed how pale one of the women looked. Even though he could be a massive jerk when he was in a state, he was capable of great compassion and that was what compelled him to move to Celine’s side and offer some sort of physical support for the girl who looked like she was one gentle breeze away from falling over. Another person rushed over to bring a stool that was offered to the young woman.
“What happened? Is everything alright -- You spoke of Priestesses, did you know her?” Timaeus asked in a rush as his eyes darted between both Adelpha and Celine, hoping that one of the two women would be able to explain what happened to the military captain to not have noticed what was occurring on the sidelines right away. Hopefully, everything was alright. After all, the last thing that this group needed was another disaster on their hands.
Timaeus thought that he knew what regret felt like before this moment. Though now, he could never recall that feeling being so strong as the moment he pried open the dead girl’s jaw and released the hidden appendage from her mouth. The sickening feeling, twisting and turning deep within his gut washed over him the moment that the young man’s fingertips brushed against the severed animal part, covering it in a thick slime that made the poor boy dry heave. Things didn’t seem to get any better once the newly-minted captain was finally able to have the entirety of it in his hands. The slab of meat (which was what it really was now that it had been given the chance to decompose for a bit longer than the girl) was purple and putrid, thick and fat with the gases that were breaking it down whatever this thing was, giving off such a horrible smell. In fact, at first glance, Timaeus had thought that it was nothing more than some sort of food item -- one last meal that the girl never got a chance to finish chewing. That was the most logical explanation for the young Lord as he shifted the mysterious flesh in his hand and took note of the almost cylindrical shape that it had, even in its horribly bloated state.
By this point, the smell was so rotten and pungent that the Valaoritis had no choice but to pull the neck of his chiton up and over his nose that he might be able to push back the horrible scent of death as he tried to make sense of this obvious clue that the group had found. The smell was so terrible and the innate urge to discard it was so strong that the twenty-year-old actually had tears welling in the corners of his eyes, brought about by the same phenomena that occurred whenever he was near freshly cut onions. It blurred his vision momentarily, preventing him from getting a good and proper look at the meat in his hand as he turned it back and forth, trying to explain why it was so severely decomposed but had an obvious lack of fly eggs on it. Timaeus was no friend of death, but he had seen what could happen to the stray bit of fish meat left on the floor after a meal and how quickly a store of fresh food could go rancid if left to the devices of insects from his time out at sea. So, the obvious lack of flies bothered him, but maybe it could have been just easy explained away by the fact that they couldn’t have gotten to them with it being enclosed in the girl’s mouth for so long? That was a reasonable enough explanation, one that satisfied this young man’s logic, but even so, something felt wrong. Like there wasn’t something right with this slab of decaying meat in his hands.
Timaeus wasn’t sure what it was at first that was tempting him to lose his lunch. However, as he cleared his eyes he noticed something that he had missed earlier in his blurred vision. One end of the mysterious body part was thicker than the other end. A quick brush of his fingertips over the bulbous end confirmed the sickening feeling developing in his stomach. A horrified shout left Timaeus as his instincts forced the young man to fling the object out of his palm as his stomach jumped into his throat. That was a dick. The girl had a severed cock in her mouth and he had touched it.
Suddenly not giving a crap about protecting the crime scene, Timaeus didn’t even voice his discovery to the crowd that had formed. He couldn’t even do so if he wanted to as he was too busy trying to resist the urge the puke as he scrambled away from the poor girl, clutching at his stomach. Making over to the edge of the group forming, into a gap formed by two nearby market stalls, Timaeus let loose the contents of his stomach. As unsightly as it was, Tim didn’t really have much of a choice as his body decided to purge itself of the grossness of the situation by turning itself inside out. The captain was pretty sure that this wasn’t an effective method, but he couldn’t really do anything about it. Not when his thoughts drifted between making sure that none of his own vomit splashed on his shoes and wanting to cut his own hand off for touching that disgusting thing. He could feel his fingers still tingling from the oozy slime that it had been covering the phallus, practically beckoning the young lord to draw his own sword and rid himself of the repulsive feeling that came with the knowledge that he had touched another man’s severed dick. The thought was so vile and so wrong that Timaeus couldn’t even really comprehend the fact that he had just found a cock in a dead girl’s mouth.
As the Valaoritis lord was too busy upchucking the last meal he had in Midas, the others seemed to take notice of what he had found. Although a lot of it was muffled from his dry heaving, he was able to catch the main gist of what was being said closer to the body. Even though Celine was unlikely to notice the movement, Timaeus was already shaking his head in regard to her question about whether or not there were gangs in Eubocris. No, not a chance. He may have been gone for four years, but when he was younger such things were never a problem. If they had become one, Tim was certain that his brother would tell him as it would straddle that grey line of Tim possibly needing to be the one who took care of it while the Baron handled other issues. There had been no such chatter so there had to be a different explanation for why a dead girl showed up in the middle of Eubocris with a… a.. that thing in her mouth. Good gods, Tim didn’t even want to mention it.
However, luckily the thought paled as Timaeus stepped away from the equally gross puddle of his own upchucking and motioned for a slave to come to him with a spare rag so that the Captain could rid himself of the disgusting substances. The poor boy who had accompanied Timaeus from the capital did not look pleased with the present that his master had left him to clean up, but the Valaoritis lord didn’t care all that much. After all, it wasn’t fair to merchants or the marketgoers to just leave that lying around and there was no way a noble was going to stoop to that level. After he finally felt somewhat clean again, Timaeus cautiously made his way back towards the group with his stomach feeling both sensitive still and his body utterly exhausted. That was likely why Timaeus was so quiet at first, giving himself a chance to recover as he returned just in time to hear the tail end of Damo’s spiel about where the cock had come from.
It was rather interesting to the young lord, to say the very least, but not in the way that the older man would have hoped the newly-minted Captain would have taken note of his observations. In fact, after hearing Damo go into great detail about the so-called properties of the cock that he now held, Timaeus was starting to wonder if it was no coincidence that this man was here in the mountainous province at just the right time for a body to show up. He was fairly certain that he wasn’t the only one who thought it as the gathered crowd reacted to Damo’s words and the lack of a reaction the captain seemed to have to hold the disgusting appendage in his hands. With Timaeus now back in the group, there was a very stark contrast in how the two men had reacted. While the young lord was repulsed to the point that he was forced to vomit, Damocles seemed almost unbothered by the penis. He was unnervingly collected as he examined the body part, making note of things that Timaeus was fairly certain that he had not seen. Add that to the blase way that he had approached the fact that there was a dead girl in the market and the captain had actually argued for the body to remain uncovered… Timaeus could not rule out the other military man as a suspect. In fact, on the shortlist of possible men that could have done this, Damocles was at the top of his list.
Even though there was already a murmuring in the crowd, questioning how the Captain somehow knew so much about what was going on, they weren’t given a voice until Timaeus spoke. “You seem to know a lot from just a cock, Sir Damocles. Tell me, what exactly was your business in my family’s province?” His voice wavered slightly from the stinging burn that came from the vomit earlier, but the accusation was loud and clear for all to witness. Damocles knew too much and had acted questionably in response to what had happened thus far. Not to mention that Timaeus’s only other interaction with this man had shown the military Captain to be unstable and irrational if his little stunt of throwing a spear at multiple Taengean princes all those years ago was anything to go by and now suddenly the man was the calmest out of all of them? It was all rather suspect to Timaeus and he was not keen to let this man out of his sight until the group got to the bottom of it.
In fact, Timaeus was so certain in his accusation that subconsciously moved to put himself between the two other women, and this man he thought to be the murderer. He wasn’t even really aware that his feet were moving until he found himself at a new angle, staring down the Drakos man, waiting for some sort of response that would satisfy Timaeus. Not that the man could really do that anyway. Damocles had been here on military matters, but with Timaeus being so green and only just returning to the military unit he had now been given to rule, he was going to doubt the other man’s claim of being here for that sort of thing as there would have been no one of suitable rank to greet him or give him such permission to bring his men here.
Leaving this momentarily as a bridge that will be crossed when the other captain spoke again, Timaeus turned when he caught snippets of conversation from the two merchant daughters, reminding him that he never spoke up in defense of the people of Eubocris. “Forgive my interruption, but there are no gangs in Eubocris miss -- wait are you alright?” His simple statement transformed into a question of worry as he noticed how pale one of the women looked. Even though he could be a massive jerk when he was in a state, he was capable of great compassion and that was what compelled him to move to Celine’s side and offer some sort of physical support for the girl who looked like she was one gentle breeze away from falling over. Another person rushed over to bring a stool that was offered to the young woman.
“What happened? Is everything alright -- You spoke of Priestesses, did you know her?” Timaeus asked in a rush as his eyes darted between both Adelpha and Celine, hoping that one of the two women would be able to explain what happened to the military captain to not have noticed what was occurring on the sidelines right away. Hopefully, everything was alright. After all, the last thing that this group needed was another disaster on their hands.
Semiramis had stayed in Eubocris the night before. The mountain air was familiar to her. It reminded her of the mountainside where she grew up. The air was crisp. She decided her cloak would do nicely. She found it easy to wander about town in the early morning. She kept her leathery chiton and cloak upon her shoulders.
Semiramis took her time to get to the marketplace. The sun was wonderful to look at. The way it slowly tinged the clouds in the dawn. A half an hour earlier a couple of horses rushed past her. By then the sun was already making the dawn roll out. The sounds of early morning birds would soon begin.
The closer Semiramis got to the market. She expected to hear noises. The bustling of businesses and people running about. But everything was quiet. There was a crowd in the distance.
She couldn't hear birds singing.
Something was wrong. For a moment Semiramis wondered if she had gone deaf. Until she heard an unpleasant noise. She noticed a young man stumbling over and spilling his guts out onto the pavement. The sound of puking was followed by a crowd gasping, and muffled whispers. "What on earth?"
Semiramis walked over to the crowd.
Her senses sharpened when she saw the blonde tresses flowing on the ground. The girls fair skin contrasted sharply against the ground. Semiramis flet a gnawing in her chest. The girl was beautiful and young. She was still a child. Was.. this what saddness felt like. She got closer and she felt a heavy knot in her chest. Either the gentleman had not seen a corpse before or there was a more unpleasant discovery awaiting.
Semiramis stared at the man holding a strangely colored item in his hand. Ah Captain Damocles. He was intelligent man, some women even considered him attractive. But Damocles would also engage in foolish behavior, Semiramis would at times overlook this, because he was still a Captain just the same. Semiramis caught the last of what Damocles was saying. So.. this was.. oh, so they had discovered a mans part inside the girls mouth... Semiramis didn't care much about the man's appendage... but what bothered her was the way the girl was haphazardly laying on the ground.
This was intentional. The body part in her mouth was also intentional. She couldn't really keep her mouth shut. She knew maybe she was going to catch unapproving glances but what else was new. The whole thing was upsetting. Semiramis saw the younger man trying to question Damocles. Well Damocles was of course a rough and foolish individual but murdering a girl in a theatrical fashion.. really didn't seem like something Damocles would doal. Although it was odd that Damocles believed the member in question belonged to a servant.
Semiramis was about to intrude but she noticed the young man walked away from Damocles. Semiramis turned her attention to the woman who seemed as white as a sheet. Hopefully she didn't faint.
Semiramis approached Damocles. "Captain don't you think it is odd that the body is just laying out here?"
"Someone wanted to make a spectacle of this woman." She explained. "If this were a simple murder a sword to the neck would have sufficed."
"And why is she here?" She asked. "An ordinary killer would have wanted to cover his crime." She paused, her throat felt tighten. It was just too sad. "But no she was not hidden. She is sprawled out here?(Semiramis turned to the crowd her voice was a bit loud) "Come on! Think you-!" She stopped herself. Semiramis felt a bit annoyed with the silence.
"Someone wanted us to find her here. She was killed and placed on full display. Whoever killed her wanted her to be seen!" She knelt down near the girls arm. The killer was either brave or.... "He had nothing to loose.." she mumbled.
Semiramis turned to look at Damocles. "The killer had nothing to loose. Thats why whoever did this didn't cover up the crime."
Semiramis looked apologeticly toward the woman who was now sitting on the stool. She hoped these new revelations were not to hard on her.
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Semiramis had stayed in Eubocris the night before. The mountain air was familiar to her. It reminded her of the mountainside where she grew up. The air was crisp. She decided her cloak would do nicely. She found it easy to wander about town in the early morning. She kept her leathery chiton and cloak upon her shoulders.
Semiramis took her time to get to the marketplace. The sun was wonderful to look at. The way it slowly tinged the clouds in the dawn. A half an hour earlier a couple of horses rushed past her. By then the sun was already making the dawn roll out. The sounds of early morning birds would soon begin.
The closer Semiramis got to the market. She expected to hear noises. The bustling of businesses and people running about. But everything was quiet. There was a crowd in the distance.
She couldn't hear birds singing.
Something was wrong. For a moment Semiramis wondered if she had gone deaf. Until she heard an unpleasant noise. She noticed a young man stumbling over and spilling his guts out onto the pavement. The sound of puking was followed by a crowd gasping, and muffled whispers. "What on earth?"
Semiramis walked over to the crowd.
Her senses sharpened when she saw the blonde tresses flowing on the ground. The girls fair skin contrasted sharply against the ground. Semiramis flet a gnawing in her chest. The girl was beautiful and young. She was still a child. Was.. this what saddness felt like. She got closer and she felt a heavy knot in her chest. Either the gentleman had not seen a corpse before or there was a more unpleasant discovery awaiting.
Semiramis stared at the man holding a strangely colored item in his hand. Ah Captain Damocles. He was intelligent man, some women even considered him attractive. But Damocles would also engage in foolish behavior, Semiramis would at times overlook this, because he was still a Captain just the same. Semiramis caught the last of what Damocles was saying. So.. this was.. oh, so they had discovered a mans part inside the girls mouth... Semiramis didn't care much about the man's appendage... but what bothered her was the way the girl was haphazardly laying on the ground.
This was intentional. The body part in her mouth was also intentional. She couldn't really keep her mouth shut. She knew maybe she was going to catch unapproving glances but what else was new. The whole thing was upsetting. Semiramis saw the younger man trying to question Damocles. Well Damocles was of course a rough and foolish individual but murdering a girl in a theatrical fashion.. really didn't seem like something Damocles would doal. Although it was odd that Damocles believed the member in question belonged to a servant.
Semiramis was about to intrude but she noticed the young man walked away from Damocles. Semiramis turned her attention to the woman who seemed as white as a sheet. Hopefully she didn't faint.
Semiramis approached Damocles. "Captain don't you think it is odd that the body is just laying out here?"
"Someone wanted to make a spectacle of this woman." She explained. "If this were a simple murder a sword to the neck would have sufficed."
"And why is she here?" She asked. "An ordinary killer would have wanted to cover his crime." She paused, her throat felt tighten. It was just too sad. "But no she was not hidden. She is sprawled out here?(Semiramis turned to the crowd her voice was a bit loud) "Come on! Think you-!" She stopped herself. Semiramis felt a bit annoyed with the silence.
"Someone wanted us to find her here. She was killed and placed on full display. Whoever killed her wanted her to be seen!" She knelt down near the girls arm. The killer was either brave or.... "He had nothing to loose.." she mumbled.
Semiramis turned to look at Damocles. "The killer had nothing to loose. Thats why whoever did this didn't cover up the crime."
Semiramis looked apologeticly toward the woman who was now sitting on the stool. She hoped these new revelations were not to hard on her.
Semiramis had stayed in Eubocris the night before. The mountain air was familiar to her. It reminded her of the mountainside where she grew up. The air was crisp. She decided her cloak would do nicely. She found it easy to wander about town in the early morning. She kept her leathery chiton and cloak upon her shoulders.
Semiramis took her time to get to the marketplace. The sun was wonderful to look at. The way it slowly tinged the clouds in the dawn. A half an hour earlier a couple of horses rushed past her. By then the sun was already making the dawn roll out. The sounds of early morning birds would soon begin.
The closer Semiramis got to the market. She expected to hear noises. The bustling of businesses and people running about. But everything was quiet. There was a crowd in the distance.
She couldn't hear birds singing.
Something was wrong. For a moment Semiramis wondered if she had gone deaf. Until she heard an unpleasant noise. She noticed a young man stumbling over and spilling his guts out onto the pavement. The sound of puking was followed by a crowd gasping, and muffled whispers. "What on earth?"
Semiramis walked over to the crowd.
Her senses sharpened when she saw the blonde tresses flowing on the ground. The girls fair skin contrasted sharply against the ground. Semiramis flet a gnawing in her chest. The girl was beautiful and young. She was still a child. Was.. this what saddness felt like. She got closer and she felt a heavy knot in her chest. Either the gentleman had not seen a corpse before or there was a more unpleasant discovery awaiting.
Semiramis stared at the man holding a strangely colored item in his hand. Ah Captain Damocles. He was intelligent man, some women even considered him attractive. But Damocles would also engage in foolish behavior, Semiramis would at times overlook this, because he was still a Captain just the same. Semiramis caught the last of what Damocles was saying. So.. this was.. oh, so they had discovered a mans part inside the girls mouth... Semiramis didn't care much about the man's appendage... but what bothered her was the way the girl was haphazardly laying on the ground.
This was intentional. The body part in her mouth was also intentional. She couldn't really keep her mouth shut. She knew maybe she was going to catch unapproving glances but what else was new. The whole thing was upsetting. Semiramis saw the younger man trying to question Damocles. Well Damocles was of course a rough and foolish individual but murdering a girl in a theatrical fashion.. really didn't seem like something Damocles would doal. Although it was odd that Damocles believed the member in question belonged to a servant.
Semiramis was about to intrude but she noticed the young man walked away from Damocles. Semiramis turned her attention to the woman who seemed as white as a sheet. Hopefully she didn't faint.
Semiramis approached Damocles. "Captain don't you think it is odd that the body is just laying out here?"
"Someone wanted to make a spectacle of this woman." She explained. "If this were a simple murder a sword to the neck would have sufficed."
"And why is she here?" She asked. "An ordinary killer would have wanted to cover his crime." She paused, her throat felt tighten. It was just too sad. "But no she was not hidden. She is sprawled out here?(Semiramis turned to the crowd her voice was a bit loud) "Come on! Think you-!" She stopped herself. Semiramis felt a bit annoyed with the silence.
"Someone wanted us to find her here. She was killed and placed on full display. Whoever killed her wanted her to be seen!" She knelt down near the girls arm. The killer was either brave or.... "He had nothing to loose.." she mumbled.
Semiramis turned to look at Damocles. "The killer had nothing to loose. Thats why whoever did this didn't cover up the crime."
Semiramis looked apologeticly toward the woman who was now sitting on the stool. She hoped these new revelations were not to hard on her.
Valerius didn’t particularly like the political side of his profession, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to play the game well. Being the Captain of the Golden Shields in Arcanaes had its advantages, and its duties. Today, one of those duties was to get to know the newly appointed captain of Eubocris. The ruling family of the province held a heavy hand when it came to managing the affairs of Arcanaes, ever since the baron of Val’s home province had fallen into a coma after a particularly nasty… incident. Clever Valerius knew it would be wise to be on good terms with the Valaoritis family, so he’d made a point since being named Captain to be friendly and even helpful the noble family when they were in his province. But the word was that since the shift in power from the death of Eubocris’ previous baron had placed a certain young man into the position of captain of the Men of Heights. A young man that had not been home in quite some time. Valerius had had a decent report with Nicomedes whilst he’d been captain of Eubocris, and Val saw no reason why it shouldn’t be so with the man’s newly returned younger brother. So, Val had set out from home that morning, dressed in his lightweight leather armor and his sword at his hip, his cuirass embellished with the symbol that would mark him as the seasoned captain of his province that he was. His mission was to greet the new captain of the sister province of Eubocris and offer whatever aid he might, to help ease the young man into his position of power and command.
As Val had come upon the market square, he heard the many whispered snippets of conversation, but none of it made sense, none of it matched with the usually quiet province of Eubocris. Perhaps something had happened elsewhere he had not heard of yet, though even this struck him as unlikely to have traveled this far and he not know something of it. He glanced to the lieutenant he’d brought with him with a curious and disconcerting look. He caught sight of a man up ahead, running away from a crowd with a green look about him. By the time Val and his companion reached the scene, the man had rejoined the crowd, still looking ill but somewhat more composed.
’You seem to know a lot from just a cock, Sir Damocles. Tell me, what exactly was your business in my family’s province?’
This was the piece of conversation that stood out to Valerius as he pushed his way through the conspicuous crowd in the market square. What in the name of the gods was going on here? He pushed past the last line of gawking citizens to find quite a sight before him. The one that had spoken was the same man who’d presumably emptied his stomach of its contents just moments before. Val could now see that he was wearing the uniform befitting a captain. This must be the Lord Timaeus Valaoritis, the captain he was here to welcome home. He looked nothing like the young man Val had met some years before. The young captain was questioning none other than Damocles of Magnemea, who was holding…. A severed dick? Val’s brows furrowed deeply, a fist coming up to cover his mouth as the smell finally hit him even as his gaze landed on the sight of the deceased girl at their feet – covered except for her face, forever frozen in the blank stare of death. This was a gruesome sight to behold so early in the morning.
Before Valerius regained his composure enough to approach Tim and offer his help, the younger captain seemed to have caught wind of another conversation and moved to speak to two young women. Val noticed the crowd was inching closer in their grotesque and inexplicable need to see such a sight as a dead body. Sighing with annoyance, Val quietly told his lieutenant to set about getting the crowd to disperse. They did not need wild rumors flying about even more than they already would be. Valerius was about to move to Tim’s side and figure out what the other man knew of scene, when another girl came forward to speak to Damocles. Val adjusted his path to follow her.
’Captain don't you think it is odd that the body is just laying out here? … The killer had nothing to lose. That’s why whoever did this didn't cover up the crime.’
While the girl held some interesting and valid points, it was not her place to be doing the questioning. Valerius stepped forward then, ”My lady, thank you for your observations on the matter, truly. But I will need to ask you to back away as this is the scene of a heinous crime. I am Captain Valerius of Arcanaes. Please… if you would be willing to step over there and allow us the room to conduct our investigation."
”Maybe you could be useful and gather names and witness testimonies.” Valerius had not thought too highly of Damocles over the years, thinking him more talk and pomp and anything else. No matter the man’s skill on the battlefield, on a personal and everyday level… Val just didn’t see much there. Today was proving no different.
Val offered a silent bow of his head as he approached Lord Timaeus, stopping a few feet away and listening to the girl that had caught the lord's attention. He would speak directly with the new captain after gathering what he could from the girl. ”What is your name, my lady?” he asked her in a calming tone and with a small comforting yet somber smile. It was not a smile that showed joy, but rather one that was meant to set the woman at ease and lend her the confidence that Valerius knew what he was doing.
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Valerius didn’t particularly like the political side of his profession, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to play the game well. Being the Captain of the Golden Shields in Arcanaes had its advantages, and its duties. Today, one of those duties was to get to know the newly appointed captain of Eubocris. The ruling family of the province held a heavy hand when it came to managing the affairs of Arcanaes, ever since the baron of Val’s home province had fallen into a coma after a particularly nasty… incident. Clever Valerius knew it would be wise to be on good terms with the Valaoritis family, so he’d made a point since being named Captain to be friendly and even helpful the noble family when they were in his province. But the word was that since the shift in power from the death of Eubocris’ previous baron had placed a certain young man into the position of captain of the Men of Heights. A young man that had not been home in quite some time. Valerius had had a decent report with Nicomedes whilst he’d been captain of Eubocris, and Val saw no reason why it shouldn’t be so with the man’s newly returned younger brother. So, Val had set out from home that morning, dressed in his lightweight leather armor and his sword at his hip, his cuirass embellished with the symbol that would mark him as the seasoned captain of his province that he was. His mission was to greet the new captain of the sister province of Eubocris and offer whatever aid he might, to help ease the young man into his position of power and command.
As Val had come upon the market square, he heard the many whispered snippets of conversation, but none of it made sense, none of it matched with the usually quiet province of Eubocris. Perhaps something had happened elsewhere he had not heard of yet, though even this struck him as unlikely to have traveled this far and he not know something of it. He glanced to the lieutenant he’d brought with him with a curious and disconcerting look. He caught sight of a man up ahead, running away from a crowd with a green look about him. By the time Val and his companion reached the scene, the man had rejoined the crowd, still looking ill but somewhat more composed.
’You seem to know a lot from just a cock, Sir Damocles. Tell me, what exactly was your business in my family’s province?’
This was the piece of conversation that stood out to Valerius as he pushed his way through the conspicuous crowd in the market square. What in the name of the gods was going on here? He pushed past the last line of gawking citizens to find quite a sight before him. The one that had spoken was the same man who’d presumably emptied his stomach of its contents just moments before. Val could now see that he was wearing the uniform befitting a captain. This must be the Lord Timaeus Valaoritis, the captain he was here to welcome home. He looked nothing like the young man Val had met some years before. The young captain was questioning none other than Damocles of Magnemea, who was holding…. A severed dick? Val’s brows furrowed deeply, a fist coming up to cover his mouth as the smell finally hit him even as his gaze landed on the sight of the deceased girl at their feet – covered except for her face, forever frozen in the blank stare of death. This was a gruesome sight to behold so early in the morning.
Before Valerius regained his composure enough to approach Tim and offer his help, the younger captain seemed to have caught wind of another conversation and moved to speak to two young women. Val noticed the crowd was inching closer in their grotesque and inexplicable need to see such a sight as a dead body. Sighing with annoyance, Val quietly told his lieutenant to set about getting the crowd to disperse. They did not need wild rumors flying about even more than they already would be. Valerius was about to move to Tim’s side and figure out what the other man knew of scene, when another girl came forward to speak to Damocles. Val adjusted his path to follow her.
’Captain don't you think it is odd that the body is just laying out here? … The killer had nothing to lose. That’s why whoever did this didn't cover up the crime.’
While the girl held some interesting and valid points, it was not her place to be doing the questioning. Valerius stepped forward then, ”My lady, thank you for your observations on the matter, truly. But I will need to ask you to back away as this is the scene of a heinous crime. I am Captain Valerius of Arcanaes. Please… if you would be willing to step over there and allow us the room to conduct our investigation."
”Maybe you could be useful and gather names and witness testimonies.” Valerius had not thought too highly of Damocles over the years, thinking him more talk and pomp and anything else. No matter the man’s skill on the battlefield, on a personal and everyday level… Val just didn’t see much there. Today was proving no different.
Val offered a silent bow of his head as he approached Lord Timaeus, stopping a few feet away and listening to the girl that had caught the lord's attention. He would speak directly with the new captain after gathering what he could from the girl. ”What is your name, my lady?” he asked her in a calming tone and with a small comforting yet somber smile. It was not a smile that showed joy, but rather one that was meant to set the woman at ease and lend her the confidence that Valerius knew what he was doing.
Valerius didn’t particularly like the political side of his profession, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to play the game well. Being the Captain of the Golden Shields in Arcanaes had its advantages, and its duties. Today, one of those duties was to get to know the newly appointed captain of Eubocris. The ruling family of the province held a heavy hand when it came to managing the affairs of Arcanaes, ever since the baron of Val’s home province had fallen into a coma after a particularly nasty… incident. Clever Valerius knew it would be wise to be on good terms with the Valaoritis family, so he’d made a point since being named Captain to be friendly and even helpful the noble family when they were in his province. But the word was that since the shift in power from the death of Eubocris’ previous baron had placed a certain young man into the position of captain of the Men of Heights. A young man that had not been home in quite some time. Valerius had had a decent report with Nicomedes whilst he’d been captain of Eubocris, and Val saw no reason why it shouldn’t be so with the man’s newly returned younger brother. So, Val had set out from home that morning, dressed in his lightweight leather armor and his sword at his hip, his cuirass embellished with the symbol that would mark him as the seasoned captain of his province that he was. His mission was to greet the new captain of the sister province of Eubocris and offer whatever aid he might, to help ease the young man into his position of power and command.
As Val had come upon the market square, he heard the many whispered snippets of conversation, but none of it made sense, none of it matched with the usually quiet province of Eubocris. Perhaps something had happened elsewhere he had not heard of yet, though even this struck him as unlikely to have traveled this far and he not know something of it. He glanced to the lieutenant he’d brought with him with a curious and disconcerting look. He caught sight of a man up ahead, running away from a crowd with a green look about him. By the time Val and his companion reached the scene, the man had rejoined the crowd, still looking ill but somewhat more composed.
’You seem to know a lot from just a cock, Sir Damocles. Tell me, what exactly was your business in my family’s province?’
This was the piece of conversation that stood out to Valerius as he pushed his way through the conspicuous crowd in the market square. What in the name of the gods was going on here? He pushed past the last line of gawking citizens to find quite a sight before him. The one that had spoken was the same man who’d presumably emptied his stomach of its contents just moments before. Val could now see that he was wearing the uniform befitting a captain. This must be the Lord Timaeus Valaoritis, the captain he was here to welcome home. He looked nothing like the young man Val had met some years before. The young captain was questioning none other than Damocles of Magnemea, who was holding…. A severed dick? Val’s brows furrowed deeply, a fist coming up to cover his mouth as the smell finally hit him even as his gaze landed on the sight of the deceased girl at their feet – covered except for her face, forever frozen in the blank stare of death. This was a gruesome sight to behold so early in the morning.
Before Valerius regained his composure enough to approach Tim and offer his help, the younger captain seemed to have caught wind of another conversation and moved to speak to two young women. Val noticed the crowd was inching closer in their grotesque and inexplicable need to see such a sight as a dead body. Sighing with annoyance, Val quietly told his lieutenant to set about getting the crowd to disperse. They did not need wild rumors flying about even more than they already would be. Valerius was about to move to Tim’s side and figure out what the other man knew of scene, when another girl came forward to speak to Damocles. Val adjusted his path to follow her.
’Captain don't you think it is odd that the body is just laying out here? … The killer had nothing to lose. That’s why whoever did this didn't cover up the crime.’
While the girl held some interesting and valid points, it was not her place to be doing the questioning. Valerius stepped forward then, ”My lady, thank you for your observations on the matter, truly. But I will need to ask you to back away as this is the scene of a heinous crime. I am Captain Valerius of Arcanaes. Please… if you would be willing to step over there and allow us the room to conduct our investigation."
”Maybe you could be useful and gather names and witness testimonies.” Valerius had not thought too highly of Damocles over the years, thinking him more talk and pomp and anything else. No matter the man’s skill on the battlefield, on a personal and everyday level… Val just didn’t see much there. Today was proving no different.
Val offered a silent bow of his head as he approached Lord Timaeus, stopping a few feet away and listening to the girl that had caught the lord's attention. He would speak directly with the new captain after gathering what he could from the girl. ”What is your name, my lady?” he asked her in a calming tone and with a small comforting yet somber smile. It was not a smile that showed joy, but rather one that was meant to set the woman at ease and lend her the confidence that Valerius knew what he was doing.
Celine managed a breath; the air was still thinner here than at home in Laconia, and between the dizziness from that and the thoughts and memories she wished this whole incident didn't bring to the surface, she was having a hard time keeping calm.
"I-I'll be all right. Eventually. Maybe I just need some tea." It might help her trembling as well as her lungs She needed more than that, but at least tea was something someone else who was concerned might be able to help with. She was almost equally embarrassed at the attention she was now receiving as she was at its cause, even if it was possible neither were things that could be helped. A little of the color returned to her cheeks in her embarrassment
"I did not know her. However, she seems- from what's on her forehead- to have been targeted by... well, something. An organization or something. Priestesses were the only thing I could think of at that moment, unless she might have been a prostitute someone was...unsatisfied with. But I do know something of how it might feel to be...targeted. My father works for the Master Informer of Taengea. We suspect that in the past- five years ago- my father may have made a policy of some sort that displeased someone else in power. He won't talk about it much- but our home was burned That's why we live in Colchis." Timaeus would probably recognize her at least a little from the court, or he might when she told the other man her name. She was relieved to see his smile, knowing someone was trying to tell her she would be all right. Meanwhile she was thinking the horrifying thought that if not the fire, something worse could have happened all those years ago.
"Celine of Acaris." She felt so embarrassed for needing help, so ashamed for being afraid. She was relieved that people noticed her distress and seemed to want to help, but not being able to help how she felt wouldn't make everything go away. And she might feel a little more at ease if she could find someone else she knew besides Adelpha as she was feeling rather put on the spot at the moment. Where was Basil, or better yet, in this case. Max? She knew that Timaeus and Max were friends. Maybe Max might be able to explain to Timaeus why Celine was so upset, if he wanted to know. But she smiled back at the other man in relief, while realizing belatedly that a bit of what someone else had just said had made sense no matter how terrified she was. What was more, it seemed to prove Celine's theory at least a little.
"If what this woman just said might be true, well...gangs...or politicians...or organizations...anyone who wanted someone to notice what they'd done, might leave a mark. Like the owl being a symbol of Athena, for example... well, some organizations probably have symbols, too."
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Celine managed a breath; the air was still thinner here than at home in Laconia, and between the dizziness from that and the thoughts and memories she wished this whole incident didn't bring to the surface, she was having a hard time keeping calm.
"I-I'll be all right. Eventually. Maybe I just need some tea." It might help her trembling as well as her lungs She needed more than that, but at least tea was something someone else who was concerned might be able to help with. She was almost equally embarrassed at the attention she was now receiving as she was at its cause, even if it was possible neither were things that could be helped. A little of the color returned to her cheeks in her embarrassment
"I did not know her. However, she seems- from what's on her forehead- to have been targeted by... well, something. An organization or something. Priestesses were the only thing I could think of at that moment, unless she might have been a prostitute someone was...unsatisfied with. But I do know something of how it might feel to be...targeted. My father works for the Master Informer of Taengea. We suspect that in the past- five years ago- my father may have made a policy of some sort that displeased someone else in power. He won't talk about it much- but our home was burned That's why we live in Colchis." Timaeus would probably recognize her at least a little from the court, or he might when she told the other man her name. She was relieved to see his smile, knowing someone was trying to tell her she would be all right. Meanwhile she was thinking the horrifying thought that if not the fire, something worse could have happened all those years ago.
"Celine of Acaris." She felt so embarrassed for needing help, so ashamed for being afraid. She was relieved that people noticed her distress and seemed to want to help, but not being able to help how she felt wouldn't make everything go away. And she might feel a little more at ease if she could find someone else she knew besides Adelpha as she was feeling rather put on the spot at the moment. Where was Basil, or better yet, in this case. Max? She knew that Timaeus and Max were friends. Maybe Max might be able to explain to Timaeus why Celine was so upset, if he wanted to know. But she smiled back at the other man in relief, while realizing belatedly that a bit of what someone else had just said had made sense no matter how terrified she was. What was more, it seemed to prove Celine's theory at least a little.
"If what this woman just said might be true, well...gangs...or politicians...or organizations...anyone who wanted someone to notice what they'd done, might leave a mark. Like the owl being a symbol of Athena, for example... well, some organizations probably have symbols, too."
Celine managed a breath; the air was still thinner here than at home in Laconia, and between the dizziness from that and the thoughts and memories she wished this whole incident didn't bring to the surface, she was having a hard time keeping calm.
"I-I'll be all right. Eventually. Maybe I just need some tea." It might help her trembling as well as her lungs She needed more than that, but at least tea was something someone else who was concerned might be able to help with. She was almost equally embarrassed at the attention she was now receiving as she was at its cause, even if it was possible neither were things that could be helped. A little of the color returned to her cheeks in her embarrassment
"I did not know her. However, she seems- from what's on her forehead- to have been targeted by... well, something. An organization or something. Priestesses were the only thing I could think of at that moment, unless she might have been a prostitute someone was...unsatisfied with. But I do know something of how it might feel to be...targeted. My father works for the Master Informer of Taengea. We suspect that in the past- five years ago- my father may have made a policy of some sort that displeased someone else in power. He won't talk about it much- but our home was burned That's why we live in Colchis." Timaeus would probably recognize her at least a little from the court, or he might when she told the other man her name. She was relieved to see his smile, knowing someone was trying to tell her she would be all right. Meanwhile she was thinking the horrifying thought that if not the fire, something worse could have happened all those years ago.
"Celine of Acaris." She felt so embarrassed for needing help, so ashamed for being afraid. She was relieved that people noticed her distress and seemed to want to help, but not being able to help how she felt wouldn't make everything go away. And she might feel a little more at ease if she could find someone else she knew besides Adelpha as she was feeling rather put on the spot at the moment. Where was Basil, or better yet, in this case. Max? She knew that Timaeus and Max were friends. Maybe Max might be able to explain to Timaeus why Celine was so upset, if he wanted to know. But she smiled back at the other man in relief, while realizing belatedly that a bit of what someone else had just said had made sense no matter how terrified she was. What was more, it seemed to prove Celine's theory at least a little.
"If what this woman just said might be true, well...gangs...or politicians...or organizations...anyone who wanted someone to notice what they'd done, might leave a mark. Like the owl being a symbol of Athena, for example... well, some organizations probably have symbols, too."
