King Priam entered without their seeing him, and going right up to Achilles he clasped his knees and kissed the dread murderous hands that had slain so many of his sons.

As when some cruel spite has befallen a man that he should have killed someone in his own country, and must flee to a great man's protection in a land of strangers, and all marvel who see him, even so did Achilles marvel as he beheld Priam. The others looked one to another and marveled also, but Priam besought Achilles saying, "Think of your father, O Achilles like unto the gods, who is such even as I am, on the sad threshold of old age. It may be that those who dwell near him harass him, and there is none to keep war and ruin from him. Yet when he hears of you being still alive, he is glad, and his days are full of hope that he shall see his dear son come home to him from Troy; but I, wretched man that I am, had the bravest in all Troy for my sons, and there is not one of them left. I had fifty sons when the Achaeans came here; nineteen of them were from a single womb, and the others were borne to me by the women of my household. The greater part of them has fierce Ares laid low, and Hektor, him who was alone left, him who was the guardian of the city and ourselves, him have you lately slain; therefore I am now come to the ships of the Achaeans to ransom his body from you with a great ransom. [r]Fear, O Achilles, the wrath of heaven; think on your own father and have compassion upon me, who am the more pitiable, for I have steeled myself as no man yet has ever steeled himself before me, and have raised to my lips the hand of him who slew my son."[/r]

Thus spoke Priam, and the heart of Achilles yearned as he bethought him of his father. He took the old man's hand and moved him gently away. The two wept bitterly - Priam, as he lay at Achilles' feet, weeping for Hektor, and Achilles now for his father and now for Patroklos, till the house was filled with their lamentation.

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Deianira Hippomedion

Level 1
Height: 6’3”
Age: 22

Kleos: You’re an unknown! -5 to Kleos checks. Deeds below:
None (as of yet).

Timae: That of a typical impoverished country noblewoman. -5 to Timae checks.

STATS:

STR - 8/20 (-1)
AGI - 11/20 (+0)
CON - 11/20 (+0)
WILL - 14/23 (+2)
INT - 15/23 (+3)
CHA - 17/23 (+5)

Regional Alignment: Thessalian Noblewoman (+1 STR, +1 AGI, + 1 CON, +3 CHA). Your training in the house of Hippomedon emphasized social skills, womanly arts (song, dance, etc) and the modest conduct expected of a noblewoman and future wife. That said, your constant (and sometimes secret) treks through the harsher Thessalian terrain for herbs, plants and various other supplies has granted you a measure of strength, agility and hardiness.

[b[Epithets:

• Pharmakis: Providers of medicines, drugs, and various other tinctures (from Witch/Physician).

Traits:

• Dutiful – Your father, Hippomedon, insisted that you were as diligent in your own education as your brother. You get an extra stat point per level in the +2/+3 alternating pattern that Homer established.

Tier 1:

• Fresh Olympian Blood: +1 to all stats and regenerate 2 health per turn of combat. +3 when interacting with daemons. You can see and talk to supernatural entities without assistance. Life experiences may unlock hidden bonuses or traits over time.
• Physician: Cures, tonics and various medical therapies are your domain (+1 to INT; +3 to diagnosis/treatment attempts, stacks with Witch bonuses). Any potion, tonic, or healing agent created through the ritual process has a significant bonus to success (+3); +3 bonus to rolls to treat wounds, injuries, maladies. People, animals, or entities under your personal medical care and receiving one of your treatments make rapid recoveries (twice as fast) and weather life-threatening illnesses; you can fan the flame of life in a person on the verge of death.

Tier 2:

• Witch: The esoteric art of magic herbalism is known to few mortals. These few are almost exclusively witches. While your brother spent endless hours in the training yard, you labored through days and nights learning the ways of the Witch. Your mother had arranged for your tutelage with a mysterious woman, Spathion – how exactly she arranged for this is unclear to you (+3 INT/INT cap, +3 to CHA/CHA cap, +3 to WILL/WILL cap; -1 to all physical stats). You are knowledgeable regarding an extremely broad array of medicines, poisons, and illnesses; these same skills provide you access to all manners of creams, lotions and perfumes to enhance your physical presentation. With appropriate preparation, you may engage in occult ritualism to produce a magic spell or potion; reagents for such rituals are typically difficult and expensive to obtain.

MALUS:

Women’s Frailty: Strength Reduction (-3)

STATUS

HP- (8/8)

Skills

• Witch’s Knowledge: +2 when attempting to identify herbs, plants, poisons, potions, or magic spells, also +2 to create these. Commonplace animals, plants and reagents will not require rolls to identify.
• Witch’s Aspect: +2 to all social/will rolls (under select circumstances, the social bonus may be doubled when interacting with “vulnerable” males, but this may have consequences)
• Physician: +3 to all rolls to diagnose or treat illness.
• Divine Aura: +3 when interacting with daemons. (FOB)
• Divine Regeneration: Heal 2 health per combat turn (FOB)
• More skills to be uncovered as circumstances and traits necessitate.

Personal Inventory:

• Knife of Hippomedon: 1d4 + STR + Knifeplay damage
• Hunting Bow: 1d4 + AGI + Archery damage
• Abercion’s Black Silk
• Abercion’s Globe of Vapors
• Witch’s Tools: various mortars, pestles, bowls, and other needed equipment to produce all manners of tonics and tinctures.
• Physician’s Supplies: all manner of mundane bandages, knives, and such implements necessary to trait human illness.

Current Potion Inventory: One philter of Hippomedon’s Essence, two charges of Dionysian Frankencense.

Current Reagent Inventory:

- Deianira’s blood (always available)
- One bundle of Aconite flowers
- One bundle of Nightshade.
- One Oak acorn
- Two black lambs in the fields of Hippomedon.

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Rolled 4 (1d20)

>we now return to the battle against the Κενταυροι...

>4 vs 4 - Enemy Hero's spear is cast; Deianira narrowly blocks!

The beast’s bronze-tipped spear leaps out of its grip, piercing sharply through the morning air. You watch, stunned, as the black-haired creature staggers awkwardly on its hooves, overbalanced from its spearcast and stumbling towards the gleaming figure of Aristonax in his bronze panoplia. Your eyes flick back towards the pitiless point of the spear, as it wobbles wildly in the air. You barely have time to recognize it as a poor cast, badly delivered, before you realize that it will still strike you!

You’re paralyzed – your arms are buried in cool mud and are moving too slow… The speartip careens wildly towards your left shoulder, and praise be to Zeus of the aegis, you are flailing awkwardly with your bow, lashing out with your eyes closed. Against all odds, you connect with the thrown spear, batting it aside; the jolting contact causing your arms and shoulders to clench painfully.

Picking yourself off the stony earth, you are bruised, disoriented and dirty – you had tumbled off your archer’s perch, but you can’t quite recall how you came to be sprawled across the stony ground. You stagger to your feet and disbelievingly find that you are otherwise undamaged – your bow is lying some strides away, having been thrown aside in your descent to the earth. Staggering forwards in an undignified crouch, you collect your weapon, and rising, turn back to the battle – to your surprise, you see Pantaleon roaring triumphantly, penetrating the broken heap of the centaur chieftain with his spear. Aristonax has already turned and is advancing against the next savage, only several long strides away.

>Enemy Hero has been slain!

Turning your attentions to the broader line of battle – it is barely managed chaos. The Thessalians have been savaged by the Κενταυροι, and you groan as you see how many men lie unmoving on the hillside, their teeth gripping the earth. The wounded, soaked in blood, are busy dragging each other out of the line of combat.

>5 Thessalians have been slain, for a total of 11/100 men killed.
>Thessalian forces now have 95/500 wounds, and are fighting at a -1 wound malus.

Nonetheless, many more men are still present and in fighting spirit - you mentally cheer as you see that the ends of your unoccupied battlelines have followed Argyros' orders, and have sprinted into position behind the beasts. You now have them surrounded!

Your fingers shaking and heart still pounding from your near-death, you nock an arrow to your bow and pray to Phoebus Apollo - but your arrow goes wide, deflected off the thick hide of the Κένταυρος you had been aiming at.

Even as you watch your shot go wide, you hear the awful cry of the Κενταυροι as they realize that their chieftain has been slain...

>rolling for centaur WILL (roll under 6, with -3 malus for dead hero)

Rolled 1, 5 + 2 = 8 (2d20 + 2)

>>5687278

>4 vs 3 - the centaur's morale shatters!

We never saw this in TWQ, but intuitively, the centaurs sacrifice their initiative roll in order to flee the field of battle.

I'm rolling a 2d20 for the Centaur's fleeing - they currently have a +2 AGI bonus for their dodge roll, and a +2 bonus to their blocking roll.

From the players, I need FOUR rolls of dice+2d20-1 for to-hit and for wounding as they disengage from melee. After this, we'll do the hero rounds, and then everybody will throw their spears.

Ignore my previous comment about the -1 wound malus, I forgot about the numerical combat advantage.

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Rolled 17, 9 - 1 = 25 (2d20 - 1)

>>5687293

Rolled 5, 4 + 1 = 10 (2d20 + 1)

>>5687293

Rolled 6, 15 - 1 = 20 (2d20 - 1)

>>5687293
whoops, rerolling in case you want the correct mod to accept it, discard otherwise

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>>5687242
I bring grave news. Yesterday Homer reappeared, but as he did not find a continuation of his quest, he left thinking TWQ has been forgotten*.

*This was revealed to me in a dream

Rolled 13, 7 - 1 = 19 (2d20 - 1)

>>5687293
Those centaurs came very close to not breaking.
Good to have you back.

Rolled 4, 4 - 1 = 7 (2d20 - 1)

>>5687293
Welcome back

Rolled 3 + 1 (1d4 + 1)

>>5687293

>16 vs 3 - Soldiers connect!
>14 vs 7 - Soldiers wound!

Well, looks like the Thessalians are ready to bring the pain. I'm skipping the last roll since you guys have already beaten the DCs.

There are currently 13 Centaurs escaping from the front lines, assuming I didn't fuck up my count from last thread.

So I need THREE rolls of dice+4d4-1 to determine how much damage each Centaur receives. To make things easier, I'm flat-out doubling damage delivered to the Centaurs given that they are currently encircled (not just flanked) and fleeing from combat. I'll be rolling for damage against Labostas as well - did you think I forgot about him?

Rolled 4, 3, 1, 3 - 1 = 10 (4d4 - 1)

>>5687335
I would've just assumed Labostas was one of the poor sops who got crushed by a boulder

Rolled 3, 3, 3, 2 - 1 = 10 (4d4 - 1)

>>5687335

Rolled 4, 2, 1, 1 - 1 = 7 (4d4 - 1)

>>5687335

>>5687336
Nay, not Labostas, son of. Uh. That guy.

Needless to say though, these ponyboys just got pieced the fuck up goddamn.

I’ll call for hero rolls tomorrow but this anon is correct

>>5687367

Your troops have finally inflicted a serious blow on the enemy; the flanking damage bonus on unarmored combatants is huge. Also note how your troops were mostly just holding the line before you guys brought down the enemy hero…

>>5687374
Hahaha victory, let's finish this monsters. There are wounds to heal, spoils of battle to collect and the bones of the dead men to bring away from this foul place. If there are wounded centaurs they could be interrogated, then executed in front of our people.
Wonder if we should just burn the centaurs corpses here or make it more of a ceremony for the gods. We could collect their heads and bring them to a temple/sanctuary, or to our witch hut were we have a small space dedicated to Hekate.

>>5687335
Deianira has still her hood on so it's fine and kept her distance. It would be difficult even to smell her with so many Thessalians, plus the blood and odors of the slayed centaurs.

>>5687336
>>5687338
>>5687366

Okay, here's what I'm calculating:

>42 totals wounds delivered
>two centaurs killed outright by your troops as they flee
>another centaur wounded so severely that it collapses to the ground, unable to move
>Labostas collapses to the ground, unable to move.
>Centaurs now have 55/120 wounds for a huge -5 wound malus

Nine centaurs are fleeing, in various states of wounding. Let's see if our heroes can thin the herd!

I need THREE rolls of dice+2d20 for the attack rounds of Deianira, Aristonax and Pantaleon. Please see manual bonuses that I'll be applying below:

>Centaurs rolled a 3 for dodging, 7 for blocking.

Pantaleon:
to-hit: +2
wound: +2

Aristonax:
to-hit/dodge: +0 (typically +1 but he still has 8/9 wounds, so -1 malus)
wound: +4 (typically +5 [+3 STR and mediocre spearfighter trait], -1 wound malus)

Deianira:
to-hit: auto-success given ranged attack
wound: +1 total bonus

Rolled 16, 4 = 20 (2d20)

>>5687648
Go Aristonax! Kill one!

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Rolled 17, 12 = 29 (2d20)

>>5687648

Rolled 3, 12 = 15 (2d20)

>>5687648

>>5687648

Centaurs rolled a 3, 7

>>5687651
>Deianira is still shaken by her near-death experience and blows her shot.

>>5687652
>Aristonax connects!

I need one roll of dice+1d5+4 for Aristonax!

>>5687684
>Pantaleon connects!

I need one roll of dice+1d4+2 for Pantaleon!
—-

So now I need two rolls of dice

Rolled 2 + 4 (1d5 + 4)

>>5687758

Rolled 4 + 2 (1d4 + 2)

>>5687758

>>5687762
>>5687767

>Aristonax continues to job, in keeping with his legend of mediocrity and his flawed combat training

>Pantaleon outperforms his commoner blood per usual

Amazing how the dice are consistent like this…

>>5687777
Is this a sign? Are we to ever trust in their consistency?

>>5687944
Ivory deceives horn fulfills. It just depends on what the dice are made of.

Rolled 19, 12 = 31 (2d20)

“Biageiros is dead!” “He has fallen, fallen!”

The guttural shouts of the Ixionidae are grating on your ears, but you’re delighted to watch them realize that their commander lies in a bloody heap upon the top of the hill. The attempted retreat is an undignified one – flailing and kicking wildly, they smash against your troops in an effort to break loose of the line. Even you can see that they’ve waited too long to disengage – long Thessalian spears now encircle each Κένταυρος, now that your troops have looped around behind them. You feel a bloodthirsty grin tugging at the corners of your mouth as you see no less than four of the savages brought down by the First Platoon and the Hillguard working together, even as the rest struggle to break loose.

Aristonax and Pantaleon, sensing the tide of battle shifting, are sprinting down the line, and you’re treated to the remarkable sight of each of them scoring kills nearly simultaneously. Aristonax, leaping over the rocky ground in heavy bronze, careens through a cluster of spearmen, bowling them aside and plunging his spear into a already-bloodied Κένταυρος with his spear-point forward – it plunges deep into the side of the creature. You’re disgusted to watch the creature begin coughing out copious amounts of blood blood, even as it collapses to the earth. Pantaleon has launched himself onto the back of one of the fleeing beasts, and you watch admiringly as he grabs hold of the beast’s shoulder and mercilessly proceeds to stab out the beast’s heart from behind. It’s a fast and efficient action, and he neatly leaps off the beast as it crashes to the ground.

With the clattering of hooves, the herd of Biageiros shows their tails and flees down the hilltop, half-galloping and half-trotting due to the poor footing. Once again, you're amazed to see that the morning has scarcely begun, and yellow-robed Eos has scarcely left sight; it seems that years have passed since your ascent of the hillside under the cover of night.

>six Κενταυροι remain and are in condition to flee!

>two Κενταυροι lie collapsed on the hillside, and one is in the valley below.

>ten of the beasts have been slain, and it’s not even noon!

You hear the bass tones of a man belting out “CAST SPEARS! CAST SPEARS!” and you see that Argyros has removed his helm, revealing his white locks of hair, all astray - he is furiously gesticulating with his arms, even as he repeats his orders. You have the presence of mind to scramble atop a nearby boulder, bow at the ready, even as your troops sprint forwards, their spears upraised.

Pantaleon is roaring in triumph, sprinting down the hillside faster than you would ever dare yourself - from behind, you see his bulky shoulders twisting this way and that as he tracks for the best cast possible. Aristonax has contented himself in an easy jog - he seems to trust that his throwing arm will deliver a spear faster than his legs might.

>>5688178

okay, I rolled a 2d20 for the centaurs dodge and block before I calculated their wound malus, see math below:

>12 (+3 CON, but -6 wound malus) = 9

I need TWO rolls of dice+1d20-1 to see if the troops can connect on their massed spearcasts.

Practically speaking, only about half your dudes can get ready to toss their spears against the fleeing beasts and have the arm strength to connect with them.

Rolled 14 - 1 (1d20 - 1)

>>5688192
DIE

Rolled 14 - 1 (1d20 - 1)

>>5688192
That's like, two hundred spears. By Zeus' nuts. That's a lot of spears for a few running horses.

>>5688197
>>5688199
>both 14
Huh.

>>5688197
>>5688199
they deserve it, besides we can't let them escape ! Thankfully humans are better in endurance for pursuit of preys, also Deianira has her bow.

>>5688192
About Labostas i would hope you don't plan on having him expose the fact that he stole sheep for us without us being able to do anything about it.
Deianira should be smart enough to recognize the danger he could represent and appropriately instructed pantaleon to kill him even if he surrenders.

Wait a second, where is the trait we got from the god?

>>5688375

Ah, shit. It’s definitely on Deianira’s charsheet as Tier 0 trait, I‘ll mark it down properly for future reference later tonight.

I don’t have a background of tabletop gaming and so honestly one of the biggest lessons through this QMing experience has been to keep a clear set of notes and excel spreadsheets AND keep phone posting to a minimum.

—-

Anyways, now let’s roll for damage with the spearmen casting successfully against the centaurs.

Practically speaking, only about 40 spears are being thrown (since 10% of your troops are dead, another 10% or so are too wounded to cast, and then about half of the unwounded troops are in the position to cast).

Each group of spearmen, First Platoon and Hillguard have cast, but they have each had only marginalish successes - 13 vs 9. So only two or so spears wound each centaur.

I’m calling for two rolls of dice+6d4+-1 to determine damage to each beast. I’m going to be doing some QM handwaving here (-1 damage per die, flat doubling of damage dealt).

I should be able to call for hero rolls sometime today and then wrap up this conflict tonight with an update.

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Rolled 2, 4, 4, 4, 4, 1 - 1 = 18 (6d4 - 1)

>>5688461

Rolled 1, 4, 3, 3, 1, 2 - 1 = 13 (6d4 - 1)

>>5688461

>>5688462
>>5688466

>46 total wounds delivered to the fleeing centaurs

Congratulations, anons. You have achieved a 100% kill rate, and our friendly heroes weren't even scratched! I was honestly expecting at least one centaur to make it out alive, after the boulder rolls went sort of mediocre.

>No need for hero rolls now that the centaurs have been turned into pincushions.

Everyone, thanks for your patience as we move through an extended battle sequence - I've learned a LOT from this process. Deianira's Sidestory is likely to become more socially-oriented for the remainder of the thread.

Update tonight!

>>5688685
Tesco burgers for dinner tonight, lads

>>5688685
We have finally reached total centaur death.

>>5688685
RIP centaurs, your livestock raping ways will not be missed. Hopefully they won't come back for a good long while.

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>>5688685
A good success all around!
Best to donate a nice vase to the gods upon our return since deianira is unhurt.

>>5688685
Hooray, the combat is over. It's time to lick our wounds. I wonder if giving sips of the Hippomedon’s Essence will help some of the wounded.

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The beasts are not moving fast enough. They’re forced to wind their way laterally down the hillside, leaping over crevices and boulders, and across small depressions in the earth. The hill is too steep for them to retreat directly, and wounded as they are, their endurance is failing them. Despite all their frantic howling, their flight is slow and stumbling. Your breath catches as you realize how poorly the savages have conducted themselves in battle this morning – the failed charge, a foolish advance up the hillside itself under threat of boulders, and now an unplanned retreat after the death of their chieftain – all while their enemy holds the high ground. You grasp that that they never should have attacked at all – instead, they should have laid siege to the hilltop and waited for you and your men to grow hungry. Their rage, driving them headlong into the pitiless spears of your men, has been their undoing.

Perhaps forty men are hale enough and in the correct position on the hilltop to launch their spears against the fleeing beasts below. You watch them from above as they lope downhill, their steps quickened by the prospect of victory. Common men as they are, they do not enjoy the enhanced strength that you and your brother possess, but they are practiced spear casters nonetheless. Here you see how long hours in the training yard under Argyros’ supervision has paid dividends. With the change in elevation, the spears crest only a few feet above your sight line before racing back to the earth. The Ixionidae wail hopelessly as they hear the grunts and exhortations from your Thessalians; with the chariot of Helios behind your right shoulder, the shadows of the spears flicker out into the plain below before returning course, meeting with the shades of the escaping beasts.

None survive.

To your surprise, you are leading the shout of victory, your white arms raised high on the hilltop, the warm light of Helios dancing on your golden hair – and the men roar back, deeper base notes welling up below your own voice’s alto resonance. Glancing across the hillside, you see even old Argyros standing with his feet firmly braced, head turned back, adding his voice to outcry.

There is a long moment of silence as you breathe deeply, and many of your men take the moment to sit down, breathing heavily and cheering each other. For now, the mood is ecstatic - later, the time of weeping and sadness will come when it is remembered that strong-greaved Thessalians are dead.

>+1 Kleos gained! It has been well-noted that bright-tressed Deianira Hippomedion was present at the Hilltop Raid, and with her bow, sent one of the spawn of Ixionidae to Tartarus.

If the battle itself was pure excitement and terror, the stuff of story and song, this next part of war you do not find glamorous in the least – the collection of your maimed, wounded, and dead; the pawing over of dying enemies. The beasts disgusted you in life - but even so, a small measure of pity grows in your heart as you step by their carcasses, matted with blood and filth, mouths open wide in silent prayer to the uncaring gods...

“Lady, if you please – one of the beasts demands that he speak with you!” The young spearmen who delivers the message is dirty, but still hale; a mop of brown hair sits upon his young face. He was fortunate enough to escape death and maiming, and his broad grin is radiant. You don’t recognize him - one of the Hillguard, you suspect.

Following him quickly, you are led to a dying Labostas, sprawled across the rocky ground. You recognize it immediately, even though his blonde hair is matted with blood and dirt, and his face is ashen gray. After all, it has been less than a month since your previous rendezvous. You resist the temptation to kneel at his side – surrounded by your spearmen, such behavior might be misconstrued. Better to keep aloof, you think, and so you calmly state – “I am here, creature.”

“God-dess…” Labostas whispers, his eyes tracking you against the sky. They are too bright – a sign of his near-mortal wounding, but your training as a physician takes over – a quick evaluation of his wounds, his breathing, his coloration, and you suspect that he is not quite ready to meet with Hades in Tartarus. He may yet live, if his wounds are tended quickly and with wisdom. “I beg you…” the beast continues. You see its mouth working – clearly, it means to speak further with you. You haven’t the slightest idea what message it will convey.

You are aware of your spearmen’s eyes around you – their foreheads creased in consideration. It occurs to you that further conversation with Labostas may be damaging to your standing, or reveal your prior negotiations with him. But at the same time, the shred of pity in your heart seems to grow. Why not let it speak these words in kindness? The battle is over, his people are slain. Whatever danger he has posed in the past is now gone.

>well, /qst/, how does Deianira wish to handle Labostas? This vote will close at 9pm tomorrow night.

>kill him before he can speak further?

>allow him to speak his words without interruption?

>allow him to speak his words, and then treat his wounds?

>other?

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>>5688888
>>allow him to speak his words, and then treat his wounds?
Pet centaur

>>5688888
that's a lot of 8s
>Kneel by his side and allow him to whisper his words without interruption.

In front of these soldiers who have lost comrades to his ilk, if this centaur reveals that he stole sheep for us from one of the other nobles, that will lead to a headache, but at the same time, there is power in last words. Let's kneel close enough for a whisper, but be wary, for he still might have some strength.

>>5688888
>Kneel by his side and allow him to whisper his words without interruption.
Nice quints

>>5688901
And treat his wounds too, fuck it.

>>5688888
>>Kneel by his side and allow him to whisper his words without interruption then treat his wounds.

Guess for this time period captured enemies can be made a slave, sort of like with Iudas.

>>5688888
>kill him before he can speak further?
i ain't kneeling near a superfast raping monster no matter the wounds. And like Shepherd would say, that's one less loose end.

>>5688888
>5 8's! nice

>kill him before he can speak further?

>>5688983
I agree completely
This is the guy who can't help himself to kill livestock with his dick, he's not coming home with us.
A pet? A slave?
There's a reason even kings don't have these kind of exotic in their palaces.
It's like if peleus got a siren as a pet, rumours would ruin him.

What would the general opinion in ancient Greece be if we treated his wounds?

Oh wait, this is the centaur who thinks we're a goddess right?

>>5688888
>Kneel by his side and allow him to whisper his words without interruption then treat his wounds.
Quints check

>>5689004
I know, i wouldn't want a thing like this near us ever. He barely could control himself the other time and was trying to get near Deianira, until he left. His very nature will make him do foul acts. This ain't a weapon, it's a tool that will turn against us.

I don't even know what to say to our neighbour and our men, if it starts talking about what we asked him to do. Especially because the only justification for anyone here to keep this being alive is interrogation, and i very much believe Aristonax will include in his questions to ask him under torture if him robbing others noble and giving the sheeps to us is real.

>>5688888
>Kneel by his side and allow him to whisper his words without interruption.
Right, let's hear it
>>5689189
Wrong daemon, you're thinking of the Satyr. This fella treated us reverently the whole time because he thought we were a goddess

>>5689069
>>5689071

Basically, centaurs are feared and reviled due to their heritage (product of a shameful union between Ixion and Nephele) and their conduct of raping, pillaging and raiding over the last 100 years or so. In the world of the Homer, I would imagine that they are basically “kill on sight” status for most Thessalian noblemen. Analyzing their story through a “modern” lense, you could interpret their story as a form of generational racism, where they were excluded from Hellenic society and turn to criminal actions as a result. I think actual classicists view the Centaur myths as a “domestication” tale, where Greek society expelled barbarians and criminals to set some minimum standards of social conduct, but would welcome the opinions of other anons here.

Anyways, simply allowing the beast speak at all would be considered a quirk of woman’s kindness on Deianira’s part - perhaps a naive one, prompting consternation, but no serious damage to her reputation.

However, if Labostas chooses the wrong thing to say aloud, it could imply that witchy Deianira is consorting with the beasts, and THAT would be a nasty rumor indeed.

We have already a smart write-in to kneel by the beast (and keep his words quiet), so I’m glad to see that this was suggested.

Treating its wounds as if it is one of your men would be practically unthinkable - this would prompt all kinds of wild speculation about your true motivations. Also, remember that Labostas and his herd just murdered a whole bunch of dudes under your command. Deianira’s kindness might be admirable from a modern Christian sensibility but would likely be considered outrageous and offensive to any witnesses.

Also, check this out:

https://amp.cnn.com/cnn/style/article/bronze-age-sword-germany-scli-intl-scn/index.html

How’d a bronze blade find its way to the woods of Bavaria in 1300 BCE? That’s a whole quest in its own right…

>>5688888
>Kneel by his side and allow him to whisper his words without interruption.
We're gonna end up killing him after but damn. You can't just let someone's last words go unheard. Even if they're a savage goatfucker.

>>5689208
>tfw your wife wanted to go on vacation in a bad part of the world again
That's super rad though. Who were they? Who buried them? If it was locals who did it and not fellows from the same culture, what did those people do to get respected enough to not have their burial shit pilfered by the locals?

History is cool.

>>5689202
Huh, interesting. Thanks for explaining Lesches!

>>5689208
Neat.

>>5689208
That's a very cool sword right there

>>5689208
Is it really so strange that other humans used bronze?
I recall tin mined in cornwall being traded all along the mediterranean in the bronze age, Celts and whoever preceded them were just as good with metals as any other civilisation.

Well, if we kill him but kneel by his side to listen to his last words, we can draw our dagger and identify where to cut to induce the quickest and mute death.

File: kyungmin-kim-02.jpg (1.6 MB, 1920x3377)

1.6 MB JPG

>>5689208
Bronze trading networks are looooooongggg. Tin had to be mined in Cornwall and transported through rivers to the centres of innovation in the Ancient Middles East. This is why civilizations hit by the Bronze Age collapse are unable to recover. When these trading networks are cut, they were unable to find the metals they need to forge bronze.

Rolled 17 (1d20)

>no new votes in a while, so let's count up here.

allow him to speak openly and treat wounds
>>5688889

kneel by his side and let him whisper
>>5688892
>>5688901 (and treat wounds too)
>>5688912 (and treat wounds too)
>>5689176 (and treat wounds too)
>>5689194
>>5689224

shoot him! shoot him!
>>5688983
>>5689004

---

Okay, clear consensus to at least kneel by his side for discreet conversation, and sort of a mixed bag on wound treatment (I might trigger a run-off vote for this later).

>I'm rolling a d20 for Labostas' willpower here, he has to roll under a 6. Let's see what he has to say.

>>5689425
oh no, is he going to full on scream out his word?

>>5689426
The way it was phrased i believe it would mostly be to say something at all before death.
Possibly calling us bitch.

That said he's mistaken us for a goddess and anybody knows catching their attention can only end badly.

Letting the beast speak freely is a risk - you’re all too aware that the wrong word from Labostas may cause you trouble. Pantaleon has kept his silence on the matters of the oikos for years, and can be trusted to keep your prior interactions with Labostas secret. The men surrounding you and dotting the hillside, though, haven’t demonstrated the same discretion. A rumor here of consorting with savages, in the glow of successful battle, might speed through the foothills of Mt. Olympus faster than winged Iris, messenger of the gods herself. You’ve led the household for only a short few weeks, and you still remember the grim, uncertain atmosphere of the first morning council after Nikon’s departure. You haven’t yet earned the trust of these spearmen, although this morning’s success would lay the foundations of this.

Labostas weakly clears his throat, bright eyes tracking yours, and you take the initiative to clearly pronounce - “I know not why you have called for me, beast - but I will hear what words you have and judge them.”

You stride forward quickly, brushing your chiton away from your knees, kneeling alongside the the laboring chest of Labostas. With your right arm icy and prickling, you draw your father’s knife partway from its sheathe. You can’t be sure of his intentions, and you’re not so foolish as to think that he is harmless, even gravely wounded as he is. You bring your face close to his – the dried blood flaking off his too-pale face, his breath foul and hot.

>Labostas fails his WILL check by like four degrees

Labostas seems to summon some hidden reserve of strength, and his face contorts grotesquely, shouting at an impossible volume:

”GOD-DESS…TRAITOROUS WHORE…I CURSE YOU AND ALL THE BASTARD GODS ON OLYMPUS. I CURSE THE WHORESON NEOCHYS. I CURSE THE WHORESON ZEUS –“.

Your jaw drops as the open blasphemy continues, the insane rant of a creature that has gone beyond rationality or hope of self-preservation. The guttural screed seems to echo across the hills, deafening.

Above you, thunder sounds deeply across the clear morning sky.

Panic crushes your heart in a vise and you cast a terrified glance at the peak of Olympus, rising above you – looming over all of you. Rolling white clouds crown the peak itself, the cloak of the gods… You have the vague sense that your men are trampling over one another in a mad dash, flinging aside their shields and spears, sprinting down the hill at top speed.

You are paralyzed, bronze knife wandering closer to the beast's neck, but your feet tugging you down the hillside...

>kill Labostas now!

>run!

>first vote wins this flash vote

>>5689479
>run!

Zeus’ judgement is fucking coming

>>5689480

I need a dice+1d20+1 from a brave anon

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Rolled 15 + 1 (1d20 + 1)

>>5689485
Apollo bless this roll

>>5689487

Nicely done, anon. What an exciting morning for Deianira…

Update tomorrow yall

>>5689487
>local greek woman sets new land speed record to avoid DIVINE PUNISHMENT by adjacency
I hope our men have their wits about them to run as well. Cursing Zeus at the foot of his mountain isn't time to slap someone for blaspheming, it's time to gtfo before he cocks his arm back for the throw.

Almost as dumb as pissing in the sea and telling Poseidon you're improving his shoddy work.

File: K1.1Zeus.jpg (35 KB, 371x457)

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Your feet win the dilemma - you spring upright, and without delay, speed down the hillside, your golden hair breaking loose of its restraints, whipped about your face, and into your mouth. Deimos’ talons slash at your legs, and her teeth graze upon your neck - you run faster than you can believe, long legs propelling you haphazardly downhill. In the moments after the battle, the majority of the spearman had collected the wounded, and had begun a slow and orderly trek down the hillside under Arthur’s supervision - now, they flee like terrified children, all pretense of discipline forgotten. Zeus, father of Olympus, loud-thunderer, is now speaking in the oldest and most important tongue known to men. Behind you, the insane shouting of Labostas continues, and daring a glance at it, you see that it has risen to its hooves, facing Mt. Olympus, making crude gestures.

A stray thought passes through your empty mind, It is already dead.

Your sandaled feet dance across stones, earth and grass - but your strides are true. The commoner troops before you sprint wildly, some tumbling and tripping, others leaping over their fallen brothers - the wounded diving for cover behind boulders and into the folds of Gaia’s embrace, covering their eyes and ears. Your own hands are clamped tightly upon your ears, your blood pounding, and you are only just able to keep your balance as you stagger forwards.

In mid-stride, your world turns white.

>Deianira rolled a 15, ~4 degrees of success
>Deianira takes some tissue damage -2 from the concussive wave, and another -1 from tumbling over the rocky ground, but otherwise no permanent harm. ‘Nira avoids the concussion I planned to give her :)
>She is now at 5/8 wounds (although will be fully healed in short order given FOB)
>no additional troops are killed, although about 30 dudes take some minor/cosmetic damage, and some dead bodies are destroyed.

You are being hauled to your feet - coughing, you expel pebbles and dirt from your mouth. Your body aches - dull pain radiating up your arms and legs, your joints swollen and tender. Your shoulders and thighs are battered - even your chest feels bruised beneath your leather tunic. The two spearmen pulling you to your feet are dusty and dirty themselves, covered in small abrasions and scratches. You are disoriented, still reeling - even with your hands having tightly covered your ears, your sense of hearing is a bit muffled from Zeus’ retribution. The spearmen are saying something to you indistinctly, but you can’t quite make it out.

>more coming and vote post later tonight, thought I'd post what I have
>I got distracted by making a spreadsheet and then simulating multiple combat encounters between various people (pro-tip: do NOT ever fight Achilles).

>>5689929
>Nira avoids the concussion I planned to give her :)
Neat, wonder how the pool is looking.
>pro-tip: do NOT ever fight Achilles
That’s downright common sense. The only way I could see someone beating him is either using augur loaded dice with very strong modifiers/luck or having the prophet father and constantly rolling crits in a row for a combat encounter. That or gassed up by several gods.

Also who is Arthur?

>>5689939

Kek, that’s autocorrect - please read as Argyros.

>>5689938

Honestly I’ve spent an hour or two building charsheets for most of the TWQ cast, but Achilles’ sheet is giving me the most trouble. Would kill for Homer’s notes.

>>5689948
Darn, no time traveling role-model king with a cool sword to marry. Though Nira being a witch would’ve brought some weird vibes considering his myth.
>Would kill for Homer’s notes.
Ya, lotta of the mechanics like spear breaking, supernatural, and even timae would’ve been nice to know.

>>5689948
>laughs in achilles being notably superior in every stat to diomedes except int
He cheats.

>>5689953

I’ve developed some plausible and straightforward systems for weapon durability, deity relations, etc

I’m drifting inexorably towards running TWQ myself despite my better judgment. I have to know how Nikon’s story ends!

>>5689992
It ends in glory of course. But glory is not a path everyone walks whilst they still draw breath.

“WHAT?” You ask them. After a few more repetitions, you realize that they are asking you if you are well. You wave them away once you test your weight on your ankles - they are functional, although definitely sensitive. Your arms and legs are already covered in ugly purple bruising. Once your self-evaluation is complete, you spin and gaze in wonder at the smoking ruin above you - it seems that half the hilltop has been erased, a smoldering crater where you had been standing only moments ago. Flames dance among the blackened earth, and you see odd glimmers of light amongst the rubble itself - polished stones? You don't dare approach to take a closer look.

Of Labostas, there is no sign at all.

You take the moment to abase yourself to Mount Olympus, fervently promising Zeus offerings of rich cuts of heifers and libations of wine at the next possible opportunity. You pray with every fiber of your being that his baleful eye has wandered away to other matters; your right arm freezing despite the warmth of Helios on your back. Rising, you see that many of the spearmen about you are kneeling in supplication, shouting out their fidelity to the son of crooked-counseling Kronos. Their voices are shrill with fear and desperation and in this moment, you feel just as small and weak as they.

—-

The rest of the day is a weary enterprise - the gathering of the dead, the washing of the bodies, and the digging of a mass grave. The dead beasts are left where they lie - Aristonax and Argyros both warn you against the ordering of a funeral pyre for the beasts; such a command might cause an open revolt after this morning’s casualties and the blasphemy of Labostas.

“Let their corpses feed the birds and beasts, as punishment for their crimes. Surely Zeus would wish it so.” Aristonax advises, and you don’t argue against it. A camp is made at the foot of the hill itself, and the men go about their camp duties silently and without mirth – for the night of a victory, it seems grim and solemn to you, but you suspect that the demonstration of Zeus the cloud-gatherer’s retribution and the lack of wine each contribute to the lack of revelry. A full accounting of the dead is made – the First Platoon has lost six fine spearmen, each of them veterans of various raids and skirmishes led by Νίκων; the Hillguard lost five of their own. As for the wounded, you insist on inspecting each wounded soldier, and ensuring that each of them is cared for properly – with true bandages, boiled and purified in the fashion that your tutor Spathion shared with you. You crack several jokes and attempt to bring humor to the men as you do so – and they laugh too loudly, even when your delivery is awkward and stiff. They are desperate for levity, and all too glad to forget the day’s tribulations, if even for a moment.

The digging of the burial pit is difficult work, even with makeshift wooden spades and shovels fashioned by your resourceful men, and the bodies (carefully washed with water ferried by the nearest stream) are interred by yourself and Aristonax, leading prayers to both Zeus Hypatos and Hermes Diaktoros – to guide their shades to the Elysian Fields. As evening falls, you lead the funeral procession along with Aristonax. He surprises you by weeping openly along with his men; you suppose that he truly loves his people, despite his brusque exterior and exacting demands. For you – the tears do not come. You’re dismayed to find that you are numb, at first your mother’s voice echoes within your mind – Is this what you desired, Deianira, when you persuaded Aristonax to come this way? Are these men just stones on a petteia board? You push aside these intrusive thoughts; your mind’s poor imitation of your mother’s cutting tongue, but you reflect on your actions.

In truth, you feel:

>This is another "personality vote" for Deianira, now that she's had her first taste of war. In peacetime, she is lighthearted, a comedian (although I'm probably not doing it justice); how does she react to this morning's grim truths?

>Satisfaction. Yes, your words and deeds led to the death of good men – but your realm is safer for their bloodshed. Through guile and cunning, you found the savages, gained an ally, planned a battle, and carried it through. You will not weep for the dead – not when their lives have purchased safety for their families and for your οἶκος.

>Anger. You could have planned better, performed better, fought better. Your brother would have been more effective, you’re sure – better able to plan the defeat of the savages. Your inadequacy led to the deaths of good men, the needless expenditure of your house’s resources. You are furious at the hubris of Labostas – but a spark of that rage is reserved for yourself. Thessaly will hear of this raid and view it a victory, but you know what it really was – a failure that revealed your own frailty as a leader.

>Fear. Less than twenty of these savages was enough to test the resolve of one hundred good men, led by nobility. How would your house fare against Damachides, if he should forget his place? You realize with dread that the First Platoon makes up your entire military force – and they will soon be called away to support Νίκων’s war. How will you survive, defenseless? How can you be expected to retain your lands, your dignity, your freedom when any passing band of spearmen might choose to take you and your home by force?

>Something else?

>>5690218
>Anger. You could have planned better, performed better, fought better. Your brother would have been more effective, you’re sure – better able to plan the defeat of the savages. Your inadequacy led to the deaths of good men, the needless expenditure of your house’s resources. You are furious at the hubris of Labostas – but a spark of that rage is reserved for yourself. Thessaly will hear of this raid and view it a victory, but you know what it really was – a failure that revealed your own frailty as a leader.
Sing O Muse, of the rage of Deianira Hippomedion…

Something I’ve sort of noticed is that Nira hears internal family voices sort of common, which is interesting and mentions of her voice type.

>>5690218
>>Fear. Less than twenty of these savages was enough to test the resolve of one hundred good men, led by nobility. How would your house fare against Damachides, if he should forget his place? You realize with dread that the First Platoon makes up your entire military force – and they will soon be called away to support Νίκων’s war. How will you survive, defenseless? How can you be expected to retain your lands, your dignity, your freedom when any passing band of spearmen might choose to take you and your home by force?

>>5690218
>Satisfaction. Yes, your words and deeds led to the death of good men – but your realm is safer for their bloodshed. Through guile and cunning, you found the savages, gained an ally, planned a battle, and carried it through. You will not weep for the dead – not when their lives have purchased safety for their families and for your οἶκος.

I mean, the casualties suck but we got more than we could have normally out of this whole centaur situation. People are gonna die in their duties, but that's just how it be homegirls

>>5690218
>Fear. Less than twenty of these savages was enough to test the resolve of one hundred good men, led by nobility. How would your house fare against Damachides, if he should forget his place? You realize with dread that the First Platoon makes up your entire military force – and they will soon be called away to support Νίκων’s war. How will you survive, defenseless? How can you be expected to retain your lands, your dignity, your freedom when any passing band of spearmen might choose to take you and your home by force?

Is burial a thing that they did in ancient greece to non-nobles too?
As i read in the iliad it's always only mentioned cremation for the warriors, but some nobles have been found interred with their riches.
No problem on aristonax showing emotion, that's a common thing for soldiers who fought together, stoicism at funerals is a modern thing.
It also shows how witchy deianira is for being standoffish, but there isn't really anybody she personally knew who died and leaving the mourning to their friends is sensible.
We should probably talk with argyros about establishing a replacement for the first platoon since both the men and more importantly argyros himself who trained them may be gone soon.

>>5690218
>Fear. Less than twenty of these savages was enough to test the resolve of one hundred good men, led by nobility. How would your house fare against Damachides, if he should forget his place? You realize with dread that the First Platoon makes up your entire military force – and they will soon be called away to support Νίκων’s war. How will you survive, defenseless? How can you be expected to retain your lands, your dignity, your freedom when any passing band of spearmen might choose to take you and your home by force?

>>5690218
>Anger. You could have planned better, performed better, fought better. Your brother would have been more effective, you’re sure – better able to plan the defeat of the savages. Your inadequacy led to the deaths of good men, the needless expenditure of your house’s resources. You are furious at the hubris of Labostas – but a spark of that rage is reserved for yourself. Thessaly will hear of this raid and view it a victory, but you know what it really was – a failure that revealed your own frailty as a leader.

>>5690218
>Satisfaction. Yes, your words and deeds led to the death of good men – but your realm is safer for their bloodshed. Through guile and cunning, you found the savages, gained an ally, planned a battle, and carried it through. You will not weep for the dead – not when their lives have purchased safety for their families and for your οἶκος.

>>5690365

>is burial a thing in the LBA of Greece?

I hit some literature about this and couldn’t seem to come to a clear conclusion. There’s lot of archeological evidence for family tombs and such in Attica and the Peloponnese, but funeral pyres themselves (as seen in the Iliad) would destroy the evidence. Also, it seems unknown how the poor would have buried their dead.

So I’m settling for a fictional syncretism of classic/Mycenaean Greek practices where either form of burial might be appropriately depending on the circumstances. A noble dying in peacetime might be interred in the family tomb; but warriors and nobles dying far from home could also be burned on a pyre.

In this case, Deianira and Aristonax had the time to bury their dead in single graves, given that there is no expectation of further conflict. In the Iliad, it seems that both Patroklos and Achilles are burned because the Achaeans are in active war in hostile territory, and I would imagine that burning the body would be preferable to letting the Trojans desecrate the corpse later.

>side note, happy Father’s Day! Don’t be like Zeus, honor your father!

>>5690218
>>Fear. Less than twenty of these savages was enough to test the resolve of one hundred good men, led by nobility. How would your house fare against Damachides, if he should forget his place? You realize with dread that the First Platoon makes up your entire military force – and they will soon be called away to support Νίκων’s war. How will you survive, defenseless? How can you be expected to retain your lands, your dignity, your freedom when any passing band of spearmen might choose to take you and your home by force?
They are all fitting in a way, but this is very real. Beside the first platoon, there is only a levy and they are hardly good for war on their own. Measures must be taken for resolve this. Probably raising a second platoon, and have the first platoon and Argyros train them. And find another warrior to lead them, since Argyros is going with Nikandros. Selling our witch/healer services will be crucial for finance the oikos economy.

There is anything the centaurs have left in their camp ? Do centaurs have any body parts that can be converted in ingredients ?

>>5690218
>Fear. Less than twenty of these savages was enough to test the resolve of one hundred good men, led by nobility. How would your house fare against Damachides, if he should forget his place? You realize with dread that the First Platoon makes up your entire military force – and they will soon be called away to support Νίκων’s war. How will you survive, defenseless? How can you be expected to retain your lands, your dignity, your freedom when any passing band of spearmen might choose to take you and your home by force?

>>5690218
>>Anger. You could have planned better, performed better, fought better. Your brother would have been more effective, you’re sure – better able to plan the defeat of the savages. Your inadequacy led to the deaths of good men, the needless expenditure of your house’s resources. You are furious at the hubris of Labostas – but a spark of that rage is reserved for yourself. Thessaly will hear of this raid and view it a victory, but you know what it really was – a failure that revealed your own frailty as a leader.

Anger
>>5690222
>>5690383
>>5690922


Fear
>>5690243
>>5690365
>>5690377
>>5690589
>>5690800


Satisfaction
>>5690276
>>5690490

>wew, 10 votes! A good day for me, lads.

>Fear is the clear winner, update tomorrow at 9-10pm EST

>I've been a bit lax about counting one-post ID votes, but starting now, votes will only be counted if the post ID has posted 2 or more times. this will be in force for the rest of the thread!

Hi all, update tonight is delayed - I’ll have a double update out for tomorrow afternoon/evening. My sincere apologies - I’m in a weird headspace right now and finding it hard to put together the last 30% of the post.

>>5691805
Don't worry about it, I'm just glad this quest is still going.

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The funeral procession concludes just before twilight, as you each pray silently to Hermes, Αθανατος Δαικτορος. the immortal guide, to speed the shades of the slain men to the Elysian Fields. As the men are assembled before you, Aristonax, yourself and Argyros announce that new orders are to be delivered in the morning. The men quickly disassemble and return to their modest campfires. Above you, the smoking hilltop glows and flickers with the residual heat of Zeus’ fury.

You are afraid. Less than twenty of these savages was enough to test the resolve of one hundred good men, led by nobility. How would your house fare against Damachides, if he should forget his place? You realize with dread that the First Platoon makes up your entire military force – and they will soon be called away to support Νίκων’s war. How will you survive, defenseless? How can you be expected to retain your lands, your dignity, your freedom when any passing band of spearmen might choose to take you and your home by force? Much is needed to strengthen your οἶκος. How can you have been so naïve – so blind? Weariness suffuses your being – it is a struggle to keep your back straight. So much needs to be done.

When Aristonax invites you to his campfire for dinner, you cannot find the energy to decline. As you walk to his tent, you continue to mull over the day's events. The instantaneous destruction of Labostas rests heavily upon you as well, pressing upon your breast like a heavy stone. The capriciousness and wisdom of the gods has ever been discussed, debated upon and argued about - but now, you have incontrovertible proof of their unimaginable power, and their will to use it. The lives of men but toys to them – your life is only a moment of pleasure or anger in the hands of the divine. You must seek a patron from amongst them - it is the only form of protection that matters. You accept the κύλιξ of wine from Aristonax without a second thought – if ever you needed the soothing blessing of Dionysus in your life, it is now.

You realize that Aristonax is speaking to you, leaning over the campfire, and you startle -

“- are like no Thessalian noblewoman I have ever met - perhaps more like a noblewoman of Lacedaemon? I have heard the women there are halfway to the Amazons. You contrive a raid against savages in the lands of your neighbor, in the general style of your brother, and yet for this service to Lyciboeus, you have asked for no payment.”

He pauses for a long while, and the gleam in his eyes unsettles you. Your mother's voice whispers to you - Perhaps he is hoping for a superior heir?

You make a mental note to post Pantaleon outside your tent tonight - what you really need is a guard hound, but the bearded Epirot hunter will have to suffice.

Rolled 7, 11 = 18 (2d20)

You realize that Aristonax is speaking to you, leaning over the campfire, and you startle -

“- are like no Thessalian noblewoman I have ever met - perhaps more like a noblewoman of Lacedaemon? I have heard the women there are halfway to the Amazons. You contrive a raid against savages in the lands of your neighbor, in the general style of your brother, and yet for this service to Lyciboeus, you have asked for no payment.”

He pauses for a long while, and the gleam in his eyes unsettles you. You make a mental note to post Pantaleon outside your tent tonight - what you really need is a guard hound, but the bearded Epirot hunter will have to suffice.

Aristonax continues, the grim lines in his craggy face softening –

“There is much that could be gained by coordination between our houses, Lady Deianira. I am a general, a shepherd of men – but I have been shut out of the court of Peleus, and Phthia is closed to me. I need men and soldiers. Worse yet, these taxes to Peleus and Agamemnon strangle the life of out of the nobility of Thessaly.” You immediately sense that Aristonax’s poor standing in Phthia is related to his objection to taxation, but out of ladylike reflex, you nod blithely to encourage him further, and buy you time to think.

“Fair-tressed Lady Deianira, we must consider bold action if we are strengthen our οἶκοι together – and Damachides, to the west…His motivations are unclear.” Aristonax shakes his head in mock dismay, but this expression is not mirrored in his eyes. The momentum in his tempo is building - you sense the diplomatic

>Aristonax is about to hit Deianira with his best sales pitch about a more formal "alliance" between the houses of Aristonax and Hippemedon. CHA is Aristonax's dump stat, btw :). Let's see if she has the WILL to stand-up for herself - this is just the opening leg of the discussion. This is more of a flat contest given that Deianira is still a bit shellshocked and Aristonax isn't as suave as he thinks he is.

>Players, I need TWO rolls of dice+1d20+2 to see how Deianira stands up under his pitch.

Rolled 5 + 2 (1d20 + 2)

>>5692578
Bad Aristonax!

Rolled 10 + 2 (1d20 + 2)

>>5692578

>>5692584
Close one. Nice, anon.

Aristonax does have a point, however I feel like his problem with the tax is less to do with it being unfair but rather with him being a lackluster statesman. He probably doesn't know much about the land and how to ensure it is properly cultivated enough to do more than feed a garrison or army. Of course, being a manly man he doesn't realize he could potentially be a loose strand in the rope.

If Aristonax is so worried about the tax, why doesn't he get his son plastered, hand him a table leg, and point him at Agamemnon? He could be father to the High King of all of Greece, but he instead chooses to be a minor noble in Thessaly. What a disappointing man!

I forgot his son's name but with the way that boy was rolling, he'd brain even fat-headed Achilles

>>5692584

>12 vs 11 - marginal success on Deianira’s part. It’s a heavy-handed pitch and Deianira is not swayed.

I’ll have an update out for tomorrow at 9pm!

Apologies again for the delay, I wasn’t sure how to wrap Deianira’s day until I realized that Aristonax wants something here too…

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>>5692617
Is this just the beginning of negotiations?

>>5692621

This will be a somewhat brief discussion, Deianira will have the option to reframe terms and/or counter-pitch with tomorrow’s update.

Then we”ll move immediately into her Deianira and Witch actions for Phase 3 (aka regular questing fare for TWQ:DS).

Thanks for everyone’s patience - I’m sure you are all noticing that I am still learning about pacing and tempo.

>>5692598
What I find most funny is that this man bare-faced said, "I am a general, a shepherd of men," when Argyos is literally greater in those fields than him. Now I am not saying we could directly point out that he's a jobber with both battle and his fight with his son, but it might be something that could help with coming negotiations as an argument point. It was our info, our strategy, and our own Pantyboy who killed the chieftain of the centaurs. Though, we'd have to balance it against the fine line of not insulting his pride.
>>5692626
>aka regular questing fare for TWQ:DS
I wonder if we'll meet another hooved friend when going out at night.
But I am most excited to see if we can figure out what the black silk and globe of vapors do. Maybe we can pull an Aganice of Thessaly and a blot of the moon but with magic instead of astronomy.

Side note, I find it interesting that Nikandros is somewhat similar to the name of the protagonist of Apotheon.

>>5692626
That's good. We need to start concocting something for make some fat stacks of cash.
For oikos actions and personal ones we need to wait for next season ? It's a priority to get that 2nd platoon up and running before the 1nd and Argyos leave.
It's a shame centaurs didn't provide anything from their demise, but their death is good enough. I can't imagine the damage they would cause in a raid and it would be a far different battle, less advantageous for us.

>>5692833
I won't say they provided nothing.
We've yet to see what they had in their camp and also with their demise the lands may be a little safer as a result.
Also we probably will get a boost of reputation as a beautiful badass who can stand in a battlefield and lead soldiers to victory.

I'm kind of worried for the low morale of the soldiers but that will fix itself when we come home as heroes

File: aristonax.png (316 KB, 512x512)

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>12 vs 11 - marginal success on Deianira’s part. It’s a heavy-handed pitch and Deianira is not swayed.

Aristonax squares his bulky shoulders, as deepening gloom settled about the pair of you, and he launches into a speech without much further preamble - a memorized one, you suspect. His words tumble out of his mouth too quickly and a bit awkwardly, and his delivery is overly loud for the more intimate campfire setting, speaking to an audience that only he can see. Meanwhile, his pale eyes are unnervingly locked onto your own, his gaze intense. You struggle to hide a smile, thinking:

Damachides may not be the only nobleman in the foothills of Olympus who imagines himself a king.

“Fair-tressed Lady, I have heard your winged words in your palace and have seen your beauty. My tongue, such as it is, has not been blessed by the gods of Olympus - my strengths lie in other pursuits, as you are no doubt aware. Still, I believe that you and your οἶκος are the key to a stronger Thessaly. With my eldest away on Agamemnon’s call to arms, my middle son being….unsuited…for leadership at the moment, and my youngest son barely more than a boy…” He trails off unexpectedly, seemingly lost in thought. You sigh inwardly, impatiently, your face a mask of polite interest, and wait for him to collect his thoughts. To a woman of your social graces, his overall affect is a bit boyish, despite his graying hair and craggy features - he’s delivering a speech that your brother might have given to you in practice at the age of twelve, at Iudas’ prompting.

Your legs and rear are still quite sore from your tumble down the hillside earlier this morning – difficult to hold still on the rocky earth while listening to such discourse, but you manage.

“King Peleus Aiakides cares nothing for our troubles, only that our wealth flows down the Peneus to Phthia; I doubt our names are even known to High King Agamemnon, and yet our meager supply of talents find their way into the house of Atreides all the same. We cannot scrounge out a living, with the barbaroi circling in the hills, if Damachides imposes a third tax on us, as he surely plans to…” You stifle a cackle - even Nikon could be subtler than this - and the man is almost seven feet tall! Nonetheless, you already see the glimmers of his (probably?) delusional plan - that the local nobility could band together as a block, and this way stymie the local aspirations of Damachides' minor kingship, and perhaps press for lighter taxes with King Peleus.

Here, you interject with a deft touch - “Lord Aristonax, please - has Damachides taken action to impose his own tax as of yet?” You easily strike the correct tone of “naive interest” here, and Aristonax puffs up eagerly to inform you -

>more coming

“No, no - but he has refused all communications with the local nobility for years, a decade or more, and has collected a rabble of slaves and spearmen. I have not seen the man personally since your mother returned to your palace, bearing your brother and with you in tow. Whatever ξενία was once shared between our houses is now withered and dead.” This matter-of-fact statement is mildly shocking to you - a casual rejection of Zeus’ mandate, and a bold one, with the glowing and charred hilltop above you both.

“My wife tells me that he is seeking heirs with his newest wife, with the rest having failed him previously over the years. But he is getting older, and time is running short for him. And this is the spearpoint, Lady Deianira - the pitiless edge of bronze of the matter - Damachides must die before he can produce an heir, or we will soon be ground to dust between two great Kings, and a small one. I ask you for your help in slaying Damachides, through whatever means you find best. Your nimble tongue may be more useful here than all my Hillguard together; even with the half-trained commoners that Lyciboeus calls his forces may not be enough to challenge him strength for strength.”

“For this service – the death of Damachides - I offer you the wealth of one hundred fifty gold talents, the protection of the house of Aristonax, and true partnership.”

Aristonax, satisfied with his attempt, and seemingly unable to read your neutral expression, awaits your response.

Your breath catches at first, hearing the sum – for rural nobility such as yourself, it is wealth enough to plant your οἶκος firmly into the strata of Thessaly. With such a gift of wealth basically, about 5 Timae or the wealth that your oikos would generate over 5-8 years of farming delivered in a lump sum, all at once there is MUCH that could be done to improve your lands, build required infrastructure, and surprise your brother Νίκων with a bustling estate when he returns from his wider travels (hopefully bringing your husband as well). And yet – one hundred fifty gold talents is perhaps only a smaller fraction of Damachides’ total wealth; and here is Aristonax, asking you to do the lion’s share of the work – plan and execute the murder of a powerful noble, while getting a pittance of the overall reward. As to the rest – protection of the house of Aristonax is not without value, but four hundred spears is more of an annoyance to Damachides, not a true threat – to Prince Achilles’, perhaps a few weeks of entertainment for himself and his Myrmidons. You aren’t precisely certain what Aristonax means when he says “true partnership”…and you suspect he doesn’t either.

It seems to you that some further negotiation must be made.

>please note that these conversational options do not lock Deianira into any particular choice later, but WILL be remembered by Aristonax himself. Your mutual discretion here is assumed. As a general rule, deception and betrayal are common in the world of Homeric Greece – even without the gods meddling.

>agree to kill Damachides as Aristonax suggests, for one hundred fifty gold talents, the protection of his οἶκος, and “true partnership”.

>agree to kill Damachides as Aristonax suggests,but renegotiate with Aristonax regarding your payment (this will be a CHA check on even footing). If you vote for this option, please select your plan accordingly and I’ll do my best to combine. If necessary, I’ll trigger a run-off:

• Ask for additional wealth in Damachides' gold (each 30 talents proposed will increase DC by 1 point)
• Ask for additional wealth in Damachides' slaves (each 30 slaves proposed will increase DC by 1 point)
• Ask for additional wealth in Damachides' livestock (each 50 heads of livestock will increase DC by 1 point)
• Ask that Aristonax “sells” you 50 of his Hillguard (this increases DC by 3 points, can only be taken once, and they will be loyal to you)
• Deianira may also ask for an advance of gold from Aristonax directly (each 5 talents requested increases DC by 1 point)
• Something else? Write-ins welcome.

>decline to kill Damachides and politely recuse yourself from such matters, learning about Damachides’ hunt for an heir is reward enough for this raid.

>Some other strategy that I haven't thought of yet?

Well, Aristonax is ambitious. That god's words at the feast seem to be downright prophetic now. Guess everyone is stuck to the wheel of overthrowing each other. Yet, Damachides is the one whose lands are suffering the brunt of barbarian raids, and if he is gone with his skills and well-trained men, everyone in this section would have to deal with those barbarians.

What does even footing mean in this context?

Though learning that not only Damachides seeks to make an heir and we got the special juice is also a huge opportunity. Maybe we can get him to swear an oath to Zeus or the river Styx for some special deals. There's also still Seisames who has no kids as well.

>>5693323
>agree to kill Damachides as Aristonax suggests,but renegotiate with Aristonax regarding your payment (this will be a CHA check on even footing). If you vote for this option, please select your plan accordingly and I’ll do my best to combine. If necessary, I’ll trigger a run-off:
>• Ask for additional wealth in Damachides' slaves (each 30 slaves proposed will increase DC by 1 point) (90)
Fuck it.

>>5693323
>agree to kill Damachides as Aristonax suggests,but renegotiate with Aristonax regarding your payment (this will be a CHA check on even footing). If you vote for this option, please select your plan accordingly and I’ll do my best to combine. If necessary, I’ll trigger a run-off:
• Ask that Aristonax “sells” you 50 of his Hillguard (this increases DC by 3 points, can only be taken once, and they will be loyal to you)

>>5693323
Honestly, getting word to Damachides we can help him with an heir, then telling him Aristonax wants to kill him before he does so is such a fucking ballbusting move. But forcing Damachides to swear a proper oath before the gods - specifically in a place of worship or power to them - to ensure it is heard and upheld is mad good.

We'd still have to contend with him or his child later, but until then we could probably wring him for all sorts of assistance.

Naturally I'd rather Damachides dead, but Aristonax is bound to get us into trouble at some point later because he is kind of a goober. Picking which one to try and cozy up with is a doozy. None of Aristonax' children would appreciate us getting their dad killed, though. Even though Gerasimos beat the shit out of his pops, he wasn't doing it because he hates his father, he wants to prove himself to his father. They're just both morons.

We need to get more of the fuck-juice pinecones though, that's for sure.

>>5693394
The only issue I can think of about getting Damachides to swear upon the gods is that he does not care much for them, but considering the display we witnessed, the gods are certainly watching insults upon their honor.

The blind ambition in me wants us to agree with Aristonax here and try to get as much advanced gold out of him as possible, then turn around and tell Damachides alongside selling him the juice. Then perhaps either forming a permanent alliance or killing him and taking over as regent somehow for the kid. Though, that's assuming the kid is a boy.

If we do kill Damachides, we lack a successor who would be skilled enough to manage his estate against the barbarians and loyal enough not to attack us. Unless we somehow take over everything personally, but that's kind of insanely ambitious.

What seems strange to me is how aristonax imagines we're going to kill damachides, say a speech so awkward and with obscure citations he dies trying to understand it?
He shouldn't know of our witchyness yet as deianira only used her talents as healer.
I'm all for renegotiating the deal but maybe delaying the conspiration until we have time to gather more info would be best.
We can say we are spent from the battle and need time to recover emotionally before launching into such an endeavour.
>>5693323
>say you are receptive to such an idea but you need time to consider the deal to see if you can actually do anything about helping damachides meet his ancestors earlier than he ought to.

>>5693323
>>decline to kill Damachides and politely recuse yourself from such matters, learning about Damachides’ hunt for an heir is reward enough for this raid.

>>5693492
>What seems strange to me is how aristonax imagines we're going to kill damachides
Aristonax is kind of an idiot. He probably thinks Nira can just walk into Damachides' home, ask if he wants to fuck and then stab him in his bed or something. I sincerely doubt Aristo has put any REAL thought into this.

>>5693323
i am going full gamble, it's probably crazy. But we are in dire needs of many things and i suspect we cannot allow ourselves to be a small fish in this pond for much longer.
>agree to kill Damachides as Aristonax suggests,but renegotiate with Aristonax regarding your payment (this will be a CHA check on even footing).
• Ask for additional wealth in Damachides' slaves (each 30 slaves proposed will increase DC by 1 point) (90)
• Ask that Aristonax “sells” you 50 of his Hillguard (this increases DC by 3 points, can only be taken once, and they will be loyal to you)
• Deianira may also ask for an advance of gold from Aristonax directly (each 5 talents requested increases DC by 1 point) (30)
For a total increase of 12 DC. And hopefully gaining a much needed larger work force, military strength and some fresh cash

>Write in
Offer to sell him an old potion of strength of our household, that would provide him quite the boon in battle (Embellish this for gain as much cash has possible, he is not an expert in potions and wouldn't connect this is something we can made). This should lower the DC a bit probably. We are going for a range from 30 to 60 talents, it depends how much he likes the story.
- One philter of Hippomedon’s Essence
and
Note that Gerasimos seems to like us a lot and after briefly explaining this innocent observation we did at the feast, suggest perhaps that we could gently aid Aristonax to reconcile with his son. Gerasimos could patrol our lands for protect them from other small raids of barbarians and monsters, it would be relatively safe with the centaurs gone and he can gain some experience while completing a minor task. Aristonax can decide how long his son will patrol our lands (we will totally not use this for influence Gerasimos at our discretion).
Essentially here we instead are offering Aristonax an help for fix family relations and a minor safe task for his son, were he can prove himself. It should decrease the DC if he thinks it's a generous and genuine offer.

>>5693092
In that light i suppose is still something. I dont expect to find much in the centaur camp beside the bones and corpses of their victims, that will need tombs. The centaurs weapons might be solid enough if they can be used by them.
In regard to being a badass showing off at home with some solid proof would be quite cool. War trophies.
We can place them around the house for decorate it too.

For restore morale a small triumph/feast for the soldiers could be done, with a few gifts and honors being given has well a speech for thank them and underline that what they did saved many from possible future predations. And we can drink to the honorable and courageous fallen men of course. They should appreciate it.

>>5693344

>”even footing”

Basically that it’s a Nira CHA versus Aristonax WILL context, Bo2 for each. All relevant modifiers will apply.

Great discussion all around, anons. I must be doing a better job than I thought since you all seem to be grasping the dilemma appropriately.

I’ll track the discussion through today and I’ll hope that a mostly clear consensus emerges by 9pm EST.

I’ve come up with a cool mechanical solution for aristeias for melee combatants. Now I just need to complete character sheets for the Atreides and Ajax the Lesser…

>>5693323
>agree to kill Damachides as Aristonax suggests,but renegotiate with Aristonax regarding your payment (this will be a CHA check on even footing). If you vote for this option, please select your plan accordingly and I’ll do my best to combine. If necessary, I’ll trigger a run-off:

• Ask for additional wealth in Damachides' slaves (each 30 slaves proposed will increase DC by 1 point) (90)
• Ask that Aristonax “sells” you 50 of his Hillguard (this increases DC by 3 points, can only be taken once, and they will be loyal to you)

>>5693621
My favorite dichotomy in the Iliad is between the two Ajax'. They're literally the "I am sure to win because my speed is superior" meme. Granted, Locrian Ajax actually was really fast and still decently strong besides.

>>5693591
+1, Nira the snake oil salesman

No update tonight lads, no internet on my block due to infrastructure work. Apologies for the inconvenience, we will resume tomorrow!

Rolled 17, 10 = 27 (2d20)

Kill Damachides and renegotiate
>>5693360
>>5693384
>>5693591
>>5693746
>>5693869


Let me think on it
>>5693492

Decline to kill Damachides
>>5693522


—-

Okay, clear consensus on killing Damachides and renegotiating aggressively. I’m assembling a consensus terms list:

90 Damachides slaves (+3 DC)
50 hillguard (+3 DC)
Advance of 30 talents (+6 DC)

Sell him your magic potion (-3 DC)
“I’ll keep Gerasimos out of your hair” (-2 DC)

Total negotiation DC: -7 DC
Nira full CHA bonus: +9 DC (in the campfire 1v1 setting, she is free to apply her full witchy charms.)
Final Nira roll bonus: +2

Aristonax WILL to resist: +0

So I need TWO rolls of dice+1d20+2 to beat Aristonax’s rolls

Rolled 14 + 2 (1d20 + 2)

>>5694392
Ok, so we need a 16

>>5694407

>the gods want Deianira to succeed, but not without suffering

How appropriate for Homeric Greece…

I’ll wait for another roll to see if Deianira marginally succeeds or truly convinces Aristonax that she’s offering a good deal.

>>5694445
Perhaps we can cut back on the talent advance

Rolled 11 + 2 (1d20 + 2)

>>5694392
Rolling.

Rolled 13 + 2 (1d20 + 2)

>>5694392

>>5694445
So close
Need to think of a trick for get this win at home

Rolled 1 (1d20)

>>5694392
>>5694445

>16 vs 17 - marginal failure

>i misread Aristonax’s rolls earlier (I thought he rolled a 15), so Nira fails marginally in her aggressive negotiations.
>Aristonax haggles Nira down from her counter-offer, and she loses the talent advances, and 30 Damachidean slaves, keeps the rest of her offer.
>he is now irritated that Nira has the gumption to haggle in the first place.

I’m rolling a 1d20 for INT to see if Aristonax has a moment of inspiration here, 1-10, he doesn’t and 11-20, he does.

>>5694597

No crits for mortals but Aristonax is definitely not using his brain here.

>>5694597
Monkey brain think no good

>>5694597
>is she trying to fleece me?
>no she's just a dumb woman, she could never

Well we didn't get the advance or the slaves, but we did get the 50 men, which I think is the most important.

Internet has been fixed at my place, lads, expect a chunky update tonight!

>>5694751
We will get the soldiers, but we first need to kill damachides
Let's not sell the bear pelt before we kill it.

If we really feel bold we can always try to renegotiate the thing later, or insist we may need an advance after all.

As for killing damachides..
First we sell the fertility potion to the other geezer, he will probably brag about it to damachides who will come to us himself, we give him the potion to get close and get somebody else in his court riled up enough to kill him.
Bonus if we find somebody else to pay us for it, certainly he doesn't lack enemies.

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Aristonax, still leaning forwards expectantly and with a confident smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, is clearly expecting an affirmative answer immediately. You inwardly groan, your face a mask of contemplation - the more you speak with the man, the more you find deficits in his reasoning. His battle plan against the savages was rashly formed; his plan to murder a powerful nobleman of Thessaly, said to be a friend of King Peleus, seems to be just as poorly considered. It occurs to you that your speech at the Summons last week did not draw any local nobleman famed for their intellect to your side…

You cannot help but think of the contrast with your brother – a deep thinker, often terse and sparing with his words, a cunning tactician hiding behind the intimidating face of a musclebound giant. In Aristonax, you seem to have the opposite - a graying, stonefaced disciplinarian who presents with the veneer of battle-tempered wisdom, won in the awful grind of Βροτολοιγος Ares…but who ineptly flounders his way forwards, scarcely thinking beyond what he can see before him.

And yet, you think, your services here could be worth far more than the talents offered. Damachides represents the sturdy post of military strength that links Cyphus, away to the northwest, with Phthia and King Peleus, off the southeast. In the chaos of his death, your house could profit greatly by collecting a portion of the wreckage – if you and the other οἶκοι move quickly, the barbaroi may not even learn of the disruption. The potential rewards here stiffen your resolve and give you serious thought to Aristonax’s offer – and so, you decide to accept.

As for the murder itself… perhaps your first taste of battle has already hardened your heart, but you find the thought of killing an old man does not make you squeamish. You love your οἶκος staff, your mother and brother - and you will not hesitate to kill for them if it stands to profit you all. Of course, you are not so foolish as to imagine that you will actually be plunging a dagger into his heart yourself – you can imagine several means by which you could organize his death…

The moment has passed on too long as you have weighed and measured the possibilities - Aristonax’s eagerness has faded somewhat into confusion at your delay in reply.

“I accept, Lord Aristonax. But we must more clearly negotiate the terms. I have some -“Aristonax makes a cutting motion with his hand, incredulous look upon his face, tongue lashing out -

“Do you mean to haggle with me on payment, Lady Deianira? I took you for a noblewoman, not one of those scheming rats from Mycenae!” His face darkens as he speaks, but you interject before his temper can build further.

“Please, Lord Aristonax - you must let me speak! I am no common merchant or peddler…” You gently chastise him, as you pull out your philter of Hippomedon’s Essence from your leather pack. The small, stoppered ἀλάβαστρον glows faintly, reddish through the waxen seal, the radiance fluttering in time with your heartbeat - Aristonax peers at the small philter suspiciously, eyes flickering between you and it rapidly.

“So it is true then - you deal with daimons and the spirits of the dead?” A scowl settles over his rough features, and he shifts restlessly on his heels. You laugh gently, notes of bitter amusement hanging in the twilight air, and you say nothing at all to him. Instead, you calmly meet his gaze and wait for him.

When the haggling begins (for you each recognize it as such), you find that Aristonax is stubborn to the point of irrationality, and you must sacrifice elements of your proposal, dropping your request for an advance of gold and some of your requested slaves – in the end, you find common ground, and mostly only due to your offer of hosting Gerasimos for several weeks. He stares at you flatly before asking you to keep him out of the wine stores, which you agree to. Both of you are weary of the other’s presence, at the end – a frustrating conclusion. He surprises you not with an appeal to Zeus of the counsels or to Hermes Πονεομενος, but instead by spitting into the palm of his right hand, and offering it to you. You stare at it in confusion before you realize that he expects you to do the same…

>Deianira has come to an arrangement with Aristonax! For the murder of Damachides, Deianira and her οἶκος will gain:

Sixty Damachides slaves (+3 DC)
Fifty Aristonaxian Hillguard (+3 DC)
One hundred fifty gold talents from the Damachidean vaults (I’m going to say that this is about 3 Timae, FYI)

>Deianira gives her potion of Hippomedon’s Essence to Aristonax!
>Deianira will host Gerasimos for the next month at the Palace of Hippomedon.

As you leave your tent the next morning, you find Argyros and Pantaleon chatting amiably amongst themselves – and by that, you mean that they are staring at each other wordlessly, apparently comfortable with the silence. Sometimes, men astound you.

You’re surprised to learn that Aristonax has already left his home estates, turning over command of his Hillguard to Argyros directly.

“They are not bad troops, Lady – hardy and strong like all Thessalian men, but basic elements of discipline have been neglected, you see…” You let Argyros chatter away as yellow-robed Eos heralds her brother’s imminent rise from his golden palace in the east, as you eat a modest breakfast of grains and dried goat. Argyros is nearly as terse as your brother, except when it comes to training and preparations of spearmen...

Your anxiety is somewhat lifted with the addition of the Aristonaxian Hillguard to your forces – Argyros explains that finding additional men from about your lands to replace the dead will be relatively straightforward, the losses sustained by both platoons not being sufficient to truly change their character. He assures you that within the month, the platoons will be at full strength. Neither of you know for certain when Νίκων may send for Argyros and the First Platoon, but best to be well-prepared when the time comes.

You breath deeply in the morning air, and consider your next action:

>At long last, it’s time for a Deianira action! Deianira will have a Witch Action once this is complete. This vote will probably close at 9pm tomorrow night EST.

>Return home to the Hippomedon Estates to confer with Iudas as soon as possible – perhaps he knows of a clever means by which to approach Damachides?

>Stay here amongst the troops to treat the wounded? Your continued presence here may do much to improve morale and demonstrate your concern for the men under your command.

>Spend the day searching the rubble of the centaur’s camp with Pantaleon? Much of the camp now lies under a field of small rocks and boulders, but with Pantaleon’s help, you may uncover something of worth.

>With the help of your unwounded troops, construct a modest shine to almighty Zeus Αστραπαιος upon the hilltop, andhonor him as best as you can with the meagre resources at your disposal?

>Something else?

>>5694969
>Stay here amongst the troops to treat the wounded? Your continued presence here may do much to improve morale and demonstrate your concern for the men under your command.
Hm, tough choice.

>>5694969
>Stay here amongst the troops to treat the wounded? Your continued presence here may do much to improve morale and demonstrate your concern for the men under your command.

>>5694969
>Spend the day searching the rubble of the centaur’s camp with Pantaleon? Much of the camp now lies under a field of small rocks and boulders, but with Pantaleon’s help, you may uncover something of worth.
Surely the sons' of Ixion have a treasure to their name.

Also hot damn we just doubled our troop count.

>>5694969
>>Return home to the Hippomedon Estates to confer with Iudas as soon as possible – perhaps he knows of a clever means by which to approach Damachides?
I would love to make a shrine to Zeus. Putting a little fence and some pots around a spot that got absolutely fucking SMOTE is very in vogue. But I also don't want him to notice us any more than he has just by being near that fucking horsefucker. So brainstorming with Iudas is a good idea to me.

Though I won't begrude the anons wanting to stick around and play nurse. Good rep is good rep. After all, who doesn't want to fight for the hottie who'll heal you after a scrap?

>>5694969
>Stay here amongst the troops to treat the wounded? Your continued presence here may do much to improve morale and demonstrate your concern for the men under your command.

This may do well to ingratiate ourselves to the new hillguards we got.
Which by the way it was presented didn't seem to be an advance, do we also get the slaves immediately?

I would also like to send pantaleon and give some men rights to loot the camp.
I don't hold much hope of finding things we need but the soldiers will like it.

>>5695233

>do we get the slaves immediately?

No, and that’s probably my fault for not being clear. Aristonax signed over 50 spearmen to you immediately, and then the rest of the rewards (slaves, gold) are pending Damachides’ death - the implication being that Aristonax will raid the household of Damachides in the confusion and then turn over these rewards to you after he’s taken as much of the wealth as he can.

For additional context, Damachides has about 2,000 spearmen at his command, huge tracts of farmland (you do as well, but you have only the small fraction of people needed to actually farm what you have), and reportedly thousands of both Greek and barbaroi slaves as well. Also, he’s a first cousin to Guneus of Cyphus, and Guneus commands the most troops on the northern Thessalian border (I’m imagining Cyphus to be one of the last outposts of the Peleus and Atreides-aligned Greeks before the endless realms of the barbaroi begin). If you look at my map here, I’m imagining that Cyphus is on the western slopes of Mt. Olympus, perhaps just north of Pythium and therefore located just outside one of the only valley passes between Macedon and Thessaly. Interestingly, Cyphus doesn’t seem to appear on many ancient maps, although Strabo reported that it was located in the foothills of Mount Olympus.

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>>5695240

Oops, forgot my picture

>>5694969
>>Spend the day searching the rubble of the centaur’s camp with Pantaleon? Much of the camp now lies under a field of small rocks and boulders, but with Pantaleon’s help, you may uncover something of worth.

>>5694969
>Stay here amongst the troops to treat the wounded? Your continued presence here may do much to improve morale and demonstrate your concern for the men under your command.

Let s make sure none get a disease. After that we can see about checking for loot and maybe a small shrine too.

>>5694969
>>Stay here amongst the troops to treat the wounded? Your continued presence here may do much to improve morale and demonstrate your concern for the men under your command.

treat the wounded

>>5694990
>>5695000
>>5695233
>>5695273
>>5695399

search through rubble

>>5695083
>>5695251

go home

>>5695122

---

there's been no votes for a while, so let's lock in "treat the wounded".

I'll need a TWO rolls of dice+1d20+6 to see how adeptly Deianira treats the collective wounds of the men:

I'm setting DCs at 13, 17, 20 to determine how well she does here (since I'm too lazy to calculate individual malii for each wounded spearmen).

Rolled 3 + 6 (1d20 + 6)

>>5695573

Rolled 14 + 6 (1d20 + 6)

>>5695573

>>5695575
>>5695581

>20 vs 20 - three degrees of success!
>all wounded troops make a full recovery, no infections, no amputations.

>Morale is high for the journey back home

>please note that Deianira can always return to the hilltop and valley if she would like to build the shrine to Zeus or excavate the centaur camp
>hanging around the site of the battle for too much longer is inadvisable, Deianira needs a WITCH turn to prepare for the Damachides assassination.

>>5695591
Do we need to prepare to kill the guy immediately?
I think it best if this witch turn is dedicated to investigate the godly gifts since they may come handy.

>>5695676

>does Nira need to kill him immediately?

No, no - while there was no formal timeline set, the agreement carries an implicit “ASAP”, which means that Deianira will be moving towards this goal steadily. Within a month’s time would be an acceptable timeframe, otherwise Aristonax (not a terribly patient guy) will likely become angry and renege on the deal, retracting his Hillguard and causing all kinds of bad things to happen.

Anyways, update will be out around 10ish EST

File: Z23.1Asklepios.jpg (48 KB, 516x348)

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Building a shrine to Zeus tempts you – it would have a clear line of sight to Mount Olympus, and those mortals who might use the shrine would be easily seen by the most supreme of the Olympians. As you gaze over the hilltop for potential sites to build, you notice that, unbelievably, the cratered hilltop is still smoldering with the residual heat of Zeus’ thunderbolt - you suspect that this might be the permanent state of the hillside, a unchanging reminder of Zeus’ wrath for the people of Thessaly. You make a mental note to name the hill Labostas’ Folly. You don’t know the men well enough to judge their faith, but over the course of your breakfast, you see more than one of the spearmen casting an anxious glance up to the clouded peak of Mt. Olympus, shoulders hunching subconsciously.

You cast a glance over the scattered tents of your men about the mouth of the Κενταυροι’s valley, dotted with morning campfires, and you note that a good number of the troops are walking about with yesterday’s wounds, some of these being loosely bandaged, while others leave their wounds exposed to the open air. Fools!, you think, shaking your head - leaving these wounds untended risks the local imbalances of the humors. Hardy and rugged as these men are, you doubt that the spears that delivered the wounds were cleanly maintained or well-cared for, such filth entering the body has a tendency to plug up the natural channels and courses of the flesh. Unfortunately, you have every reason to believe that the wounds of your men may fester, if left as they are.

This will not do, of course.

You stride gracefully among them, and most of the men nod respectfully in your direction… although you catch a sullen glare here and there, most of these coming from the Hillguard - always quickly hidden when noticed, but there, nonetheless. You’ll have to make do without the benefit of medicinal hounds and your full complement of witch’s herbs and salves, but even so, you are confident that your healing touch will spare these wounded of untimely deaths or amputations.

You assemble what you need from the men - boiling water in a large urn, strips of white linens from several chitons that you dissect with your father’s bronze knife. From your pack, you produce your bronze needle and thread. Finally, you carefully wash your hands with hot water, and then with heated olive oil from your personal supplies.

>more coming

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Without any announcement, you wend your way through the tents, locating the wounded without drawing attention to yourself. At first, the men continue with their respectful nods - keeping you at a distance, but as you treat the first man, and then the second, you sense a change in atmosphere - the slight tension in the air dissolving. Along with your healing touch, skillful bandaging and sewing of flesh, you offer bits of humor to a man of grim disposition, a confident word to an anxious man with a side wound, and reassurance to a youthful man, hardly more than a boy, with a split scalp. In each case, you are rewarded with an honest grin or genuine word of thanks, and you learn their names – thin Dexicos, who surprises you with a snatch of poetry, and Moschion, a great, black-bearded bear of a man who acts more like a bashful child, stand out in your memory. You sternly admonish them to eat well for their next several meals, and in the next breath, congratulate them as scions of Ares, brave fathers who have cleansed this patch of Thessaly of monsters. It is the work of the entire day, to treat your patients, learn a little of them and their stories, but it is joyful work, and you feel that you have made a connection with the men as a whole. They know you now, not just as a willowy figure of divine blood, but as the Lady of the House – not bad with a battle plan, a better shot with a bow than some, and with a deft sewing hand as well…and you hear it remarked upon that witch or not, you stood on the hilltop like the rest of them, and put down one of the savages yourself.

>Deianira’s natural CHA bonuses cause her to autosucceed on the social component of this action!
>overall Troop Morale: GRUMBLING -> CONTENTED
>overall οἶκος Morale: unchanged

---

The long march back to the Hippomedon palace is a slow one, but you’re pleased to see that your wounded troops do well. Between your physician’s treatment, your advice, and your insistence on a leisurely pace, none of the wounded are pushed too hard. On the contrary, the exertion of hiking through the wilds of your estates seems to bring color back to their cheeks and vitality to their limbs. Here and there, the men break out spontaneously in a chant or song, and already, you catch a few of them composing poetry and song to commemorate the Hilltop Raid and the sheer madness of Labostas, the blasphemer. You suspect that these compositions will be make their way through Thessaly, but you doubt that these might travel across the Peneus or to Phthia itself – not with High King Agamemnon’s summons of men from all corners of Hellas stirring up all kinds of wild rumors.

>more coming

You make arrangements for a warm bath, a healthy dose of your house’s best wine (which is sadly mediocre, but nothing to be done about it for now), and before long, you are napping through the afternoon, into the evening.

When night falls, you rise. It is time for you to begin your preparations for the month’s activities, and in this month, you plan to kill a man, upset the balance of power in Thessaly, and vault your οἶκος into the realms of wealth and prestige…

>Time for a Witch Action, /qst/! I’ll list available reagents and therefore the rituals/spells that Deianira can actually utilize for reference.

Current Potion Inventory:

Two charges of Dionysian Frankencense.

Current Reagent Inventory:
- Deianira’s blood (always available).
- One bundle of Aconite flowers.
- One bundle of Nightshade.
- One Oak acorn.
- Two black lambs in the fields of Hippomedon.

Available Spells:

- Criminal’s Fate: Through this ritual, Deianira summons the attention of one of the Erinyes of Erebus – awful harpies of the underworld and sets them upon a criminal. Requires a black lamb.

> more coming

Available Potions:

Hippomedon Essence

Through this ritual, Deianira collects, purifies, and concentrates her own blood, mixing with it with oils of oregano and thyme, producing a potent philter of divinity. A person who imbibes this potion will temporarily gain the stat boost and healing effects of Deianira’s Fresh Olympian Blood trait for approximately 24 hours; an injured or diseased person can recover at fairly rapid speed with the divine essence of Deianira washing through their veins, although chronic diseases will return in time. Deianira herself will temporarily lose the benefits of her FOB trait for approximately 72 hours as her divine essence rebuilds, after successful philter creation. Commoners (or even noblemen) with low WILL who imbibe this potion may become delusional with their newfound strength and vitality; a nobleman with significant divine heritage may have their strength and power even further boosted, although the duration of this boost may be significantly shorter.

Reagents required: Deianira’s blood, typical herbs of healing. DC failures may lead to undesirable outcomes. Divinities may not look kindly upon those who utilize such sorcery to interfere with their plans.

Lethes’ Draft

Through this ritual, Deianira uses a preparation of nightshade, to create a magical potion which temporarily dissolves the memories of the imbiber. Despite the name of this solution, no waters from the underworld are required for its creation. The effect may last for years on a commoner, months on a nobleman, and perhaps only days or hours for those with very strong divine heritage. A daemon or lesser divinity may roll to directly resist the effects of this potion, if failed, they may suffer the effects for only some minutes or hours. Greater divinities are highly unlikely to be affected by such a concoction.

Reagents required: Nightshade, which grows rarely in the foothills of Thessaly.

Kerberos’ Slaverings

Through this ritual, Deianira creates an incredibly deadly toxin, purified from the dark purple flowers of aconite. When consumed by a mortal, it brings a swift and painful death, and possibly even to those of significant divine heritage. While very dangerous, those with resistance to poison or divine constitution may possibly weather a full dose unaided. Prior or timely application of an antidote could reverse the effects – although Deianira does not currently know of such a preparation. Lesser daemons may be afflicted with incredible torment; unknown impact on a higher divinity.

Reagents: Aconite, which rarely grows in the foothills of Thessaly.

You'll notice that while Deainira actually has unlocked Pan's Philter, the fertility potion, during her encounter with Tropanus, she does NOT currently possess any Corsican pinecone with which to brew some. She'll have to risk another journey to Tropanus' part of the estates to collect more if she wishes to make Pan's Philter in a future turn.

>So /qst/, what will 'Nira do with her Witch Action this turn?

>Cast Criminal's Fate on someone? If so, who?
>Brew Hippomedon's Essence
>Brew Lethes' Draft
>Brew Kerberos' Slaverings?
>Collect reagents (you can specify Corsican pinecone, now that 'Nira knows where it is)
>Investigate Abercion's Globe of Vapours
>Investigate Abercion's Black Silk

I'll likely leave this vote open for longer than normal, if there's not a clear consensus emerging right away.

>>5695755
>Investigate Abercion's Globe of Vapours

>>5695755
>>Investigate Abercion's Globe of Vapours
The silk is unlikely to be immediately useful, as it is a material in form. The ball o dank though could be just about anything. I am however tempted to make either the kill-drool or the alzheimer's soup. Both would be very useful in different ways for a murder mystery.

>>5695755
>Investigate Abercion's Black Silk
Tough choice between the orb and the silk. I can't resist the hunch of a possible shadowy cloak. Especially as Nira's outings to gather materials occur at night.

Is colored silk a really luxurious item at this time? Because if so, we might want to wear this to further enhance our image.

Aristonax and Nira don't waste time, killing a very important man in the area in a month. I would've thought an endeavor like this would have been given at least a couple months to execute. The silver lining is it could be considered a vote of confidence in Nira's abilities.

>>5695755
>>Investigate Abercion's Black Silk

>>5695755
>Investigate Abercion's Black Silk

>>5695791
Unlikely to be immediately useful?
All the more important to have it inspected now so it can be put to use.

>>5695809
If the shadowy silk lends itself to the idea of an invisibility cloak then is the globe a palantir?
I hope so, a spy crystal ball is going to be amazingly useful to learn secrets

>>5695755
>>Investigate Abercion's Globe of Vapours

>>5695809
Greece is probably as far as silk can possibly get out of the east at this point in time, though probably won't even make it to or out of Anatolia. The silk road won't really exist for a long time. A provincial lady of little means such as Nira having it would probably be genuinely baffling to people.

>>5695846
There's probably only a couple things it -could- do that might be useful in the near future. And those rely on it being able to do so as it is. Try wearing a blanket as a cloak or shawl. It doesn't fit right and is prone to falling off. Same problem with the silk.

>>5695755
>>Investigate Abercion's Black Silk

>>5695878
So I looked it up, turns out there was a thing called Coan Silk which was made on Kos by Pachypasa otus a Mediterranean moth. Wasn’t as good as the silk from China apparently but what we have is gold clothing so it’s probably comparable if not better. Wonder how hard it would be to tear.

I curious about how much talons it would cost to outfit the first platoon with proper gear.

>>5695895

Unfortunately I don’t have any great frames of reference for this, but from what I’ve read about availability of bronze in the LBA, it would be prohibitively expensive to armor the whole First Platoon with bronze panoplia like Nikon’s armor. Even Kings don’t have an honor guard of dudes running around in full bronze.

But you can imagine that maybe highest quality mortal troop arms and armor would include elements of bronze - a layer within a leather shield for strength, or just the helm and frontal armor in otherwise a hide armor. I could imagine a “halfway” measure here being possible but still pretty expensive and time consuming to produce and then custom fit to each man - maybe like 3 talents per soldier? I haven’t looked too far into it.

Basically, it was my intent to provide Deianira with adequate Timae to better outfit the First Platoon or to improve the home estates, but probably not both. Also, the first platoon would have to be physically present in Phthia or another major city for the customization piece, but that would be a fraction of the overall construction timeline.

>>5695892
Neato. Man, the Greeks really did have everything.

Six hour warning, y’all.

Seems like a close vote between the Silk and the Globe, so lurkers, feel free to jump in!

>>5695755
>>Investigate Abercion's Black Silk

>>5695755
>Investigate Abercion's Globe of Vapours

>>5695895

Some follow up on this - Homeric talents of gold were pretty small and probably about 8.5 grams in weight, basically the size of a small coin.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Talent_(measurement)

There’s a good quote from Book 23 of the Iliad where Achilles is setting prizes for Patroklos’ funerary games:

“For the second again he set an ox great and rich with fat; and a half-talent in gold he appointed for the last.”

So the implication is that a high-quality ox is worth one gold talent. So all this to say - Aristonax’s offer of 150 gold talents is probably within range of reasonableness given that Damachides has very large herds and is probably sitting on a significant vault of liquid cash after decades of accumulating money and power.

Globe of Vapors
>>5695756
>>5695791
>>5695871
>>5696216

Black Silk
>>5695809
>>5695831
>>5695846
>>5695887
>>5696143

>Black Silk wins!

Now I need TWO rolls of dice+1d20+5. In this case, the modifiers are INT+WITCH bonus (so +3 and +2), given that Deianira is not attempting to work her WILL, so much as apply her witchy INTELLECT towards understanding the properties of the Black Silk.

Rolled 14 + 5 (1d20 + 5)

>>5696310
Frogs

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Rolled 9 + 5 (1d20 + 5)

>>5696310
May I suggest this image as an OP?

>>5696319
>>5696323

>19 vs ???
>??? degrees of success!

Well done, anons. will have an update out before 10pm EST I hope.

>>5696323

Accepted, anon. although it may be a long time before the next TWQ:DS thread, if I take over/hijack TWQ like I am increasingly feeling that I will. Still no word from Homer - perhaps his silence gives his assent?

>>5696328
Fraid he's dead dead

Striding into your witch’s hut – you feel that it is your true homecoming from the raid. The musty scents of herbs, plants, spices from abroad, and the coppery scent of old blood put you at ease. As is your custom, you commit a small offering to Hekate Τριμορφις; the night-wanderer, the tender of children, the goddess of crossroads – six eyes seem to watch you under the flickering candlelight, but where another might be unsettled, you imagine you feel the distant approval of the goddess. Only after long minutes of silence in the night, with your heartbeat slowed to a leisurely pace and your blood cooled, do you begin your witchy work.

Damachides must die – this is the goal of the crude oath you have sworn with Aristonax, palm to palm. But before you can bring this to pass, you must better understand what tools you have. You leave aside your philters and tinctures for another night, and instead, you lay Abercion’s gifts before you upon Hecate’s altar. It is time to confront them. You stare at them with deep suspicion; you have every reason to believe that they are of divine origin, and therefore must be handled with extreme care. The small bundle of black silk you place on the left hand-side, and the globe of vapors, you place on the right – the soft ring of glass sounds as you place it gently upon your workbench’s surface.

Between the two, the small bundle of black silk catches your eye – although perhaps, this is the wrong turn of phrase. As you carefully inspect the fabric, the depth of its darkness seems limitless, bottomless. Its’ true nature eludes you – as you touch it with a fingertip, the sensation is unlike any textile or cloth you have ever felt. Given your place as rural nobility, you own no silk garments of your own – the cloth is said to be worth more than gold by weight, and therefore far outside of your ability to obtain. You suppose that the nobility of Mycenae or Knossos might have access to such materials, and clearly, the divines of Mount Olympus must have access as well if this is the case. All this to say – you simply don’t know what it is. For lack of a better option, you resolve to call it silk. As you caress the silk packet, you barely feel anything at all – so soft and refined the texture, you cannot feel the threads. Even under close inspection by candlelight, the silk is so dark and finely composed, you cannot make out any distinguishing characteristics at all. It’s like a patch of darkness, sitting on your workbench. Your right arm freezes, and you absentminded rub at Abercion’s fingerprints upon your white skin.

>more coming

But when the moment comes, no monster or dragon or angry daimon flies forth from the silk garment as it unspools. You spend nearly an hour gently exploring the length of fabric with your fingertips, and slowly conclude that it is the general dimensions of a sash or a belt. You take nearly as much time working up the courage to bind the sash around yourself, but when you do so – no curse is heaped upon your shoulders, and no Erinyes or shade storms through your hut door. Your hands travel about your person and can find no obvious changes to your body.

You realize that your eyes have been tightly shut in anticipation of your demise, and you find the courage to open them, dark and flecked with gold. As you gaze at yourself, at first you have difficulty processing what you see – or what you don’t. It’s as if your body has been plunged into shadow, into darkness; under the flicking candlelight, the edges of your frame has been dimmed almost to nothing. You curse the fact that a mirror will not help you – you’re desperate to know how you look to another.
So instead, you leave your witch’s hut, and glide silently over the rocky ground to the palace – you steal inside the halls of your father, and find that in the corners of the courtyard, the shadows seem to hew closely to your strides, pulling away from the dimly-lit corners to wreathe you in darkness. Several times you stand breathlessly in one such corner as one member of your οἶκος staff or another steals down the halls – frowning, you follow one such young man to find that he is indulging a midnight meal of bread and barley. You make an effort to remember his face for punishment later.

You spend another hour or two experimenting with this ability, learning to ignore the icy sensation along your right arm – in broad torchlight, the effect seems to fade significantly – in half-light, you suspect that you are much harder to see, and in darkness, under the light of bright-tressed Selene, you believe that you would be nearly invisible.

Did Abercion know that I would form a compact with Aristonax? Is the death of Damachides foretold by the gods?
You don’t know the answer – but you now have a powerful tool, and suddenly the death of Damachides seems immediate, palpable. You may achieve through subterfuge and a single knife’s point what two thousand spears cannot. Satisfied with the night’s work, you return to your dormitory, carefully placing the sash among your other cloaks and garments. Sleep comes easily to you…

>Deianira’s investigation of Abercion’s Black Silk has succeeded…or has it?

>Abercion’s Black Silk has been determined to be Abercion’s Shadow Sash!

>While wearing the Shadow Sash under low-light conditions, Deianira receives a significant bonus to opposed stealth rolls (+5). When in darkness, this bonus is even larger (+8). In full illumination or broad sunlight, the Shadow Sash has no discernable effect.

>>5696365
Definitely useful
Maybe it has other hidden proprieties but this is plenty for now to know it doesn't need to be reworked to function.

Is damachides land reasonably close enough to reach in a single night?
I dislike the idea of bestowing the sash to an assassin lest they just escape with it but it would look weird if deianira goes missing a few days and an important dude dies in the meantime.

A different idea is if the globe really is a palantir and we learn a horrible secret justifying us sending the Erinyes after him thus making it almost divine punishment.

>>5696365
>+5 or +8 to stealth
So this is godly equipment. Very nice. Slap that on Pantaleon and send him to do a hit job on Damachides.

Curious to figure out what the orb does. I know that supernatural stuff can't be seen without the aid of the gods or FOB so is the orb invisible?

>>5696491
I think it's more that the divine may choose to hide themselves from mortal eyes. But those with sufficient divine blood can see even when they do not wish to be. Unless they are hidden by other means than by way of simple divine providence (so Artemis just plain hiding in a bush or Hades with his helm of invisibility for instance). The gods can and do manifest in front of mortals as they wish. Though often they do so transmogrified in some way. So it must be some quirk of godly or spiritual magic that is intuitive to them which lets them do so.

>>5696365
Man I really do want to know who is our divine ancestor. Things continue to get more complex

With how useful this artifact seems for sneaking around, I can't help but wonder what we might want to send off to Nikon when we see off the first platoon. Maybe even one of the godly gifts if we deem Nira's situation safe enough that they aren't desperately needed. We might not have to equip the troops ourselves as that payment is still coming in from Menelaus alongside the deal with Electra.
>>5696500
Wasn't the naiad met at the beginning of Nikon's journey unable to be seen by his chariot driver?

>>5696328
i still hope he returns.
If you take over the quest, you could go and try taking Nikandros ? In that case we would have two protagonists to switch inbetween, which could be quite cool and definetly more of a challenge. Or nikandros remains in background and it remains unknown what he does.
If it s both the quest image should be Deianira and Nikandros, an hoplite on one side and a woman in the other.

>>5696491
It is very useful, it will certainly help avoid dangerous individuals in our little trips for collect herbs

>>5696517
Plus the petteia games we planned for make money from overeager nobles, Nikandros financial situation will be secure quite soon

>>5696517
Yeah. The spirit world, divine world, whatever you want to call it, normies can't see it unless the thing in question specifically wants to be seen. But to people who have divine blood it has to actively hide.

Think of it like a stealth plane, right? It won't show up on radar but if you're flying next to it you can very clearly see it. Or if it's doing a vanity pass low and slow.

>>5696568
>Or if it's doing a vanity pass low and slow.
I could totally see gods and daimons doing this. The real fear of being unable to hide from FOB is that they can catch the gods while they're not looking their best and are picking their nose or something.

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>PHASE 4 BEGIN

…But your sleep is not restful.

You seem to pass the night tossing and turning, sweating through your nightdress; in your dreams, you are a shade, unable to be seen or produce sound, no matter how hard you try. You fruitlessly approach your household staff, begging them for help, but in the dream, you are as invisible as your reflection, and your hands are insubstantial. They cannot grasp the shoulders or hands of your passing staff; they cannot hear your silent cries. In your dream, you despair, and cast aside the house of the living - the οἶκος of Hippomedon.

In the way of dreams, you are suddenly wandering aimlessly across a sandy wasteland, shrouded in mist and fog. You hear the cries of gulls and crashing of waves, and your ethereal feet leave no marks under the sand. From the nearby shore, occluded by deep-swirling Oceanus’ cool breath, you hear the distorted clash of bronze on bronze, the muted shouts of men and screams of horses. In the dream, you have the piercing anxiety that your brother is in danger, that he is in the grind of the war god, that he risks his death in the service of Zeus Hypatus and you are staggering to the water, and it is icy cold, your ghostly form suddenly soaked with water as your legs and hips disappear under the waves, and distantly, you hear your brother thundering,

SHIELDS HIGH! SHIELDS HIGH!. His voice echoes further down the beachside, mingling with the sound of the crashing waves. Above you, Helios is not visible at all. With the water crashing about your face and neck, you desperately call out to him,

I am coming! It is not too -

Iudas is kneeling beside you, shaking Επιαλης, daimon of nightmares, off of your chest, and he says gently to you,

“You will never see Nikandros again, Lady.”

Your mouth flops upon in surprise and horror, but Iudas calmly repeats himself, “You were shouting in your sleep, Lady - calling for Nikandros.” You collect yourself, gulping for air, and you realize that he is right - you had misheard him in your daze. Your radiant hair…is currently matted with sweat, plastered across your face and mouth. Your heart is still galloping in your chest, the scent of salt still in your nose.

“The first nights after a battle can be…difficult.” In the dark, you cannot see Iudas’ expression, but his words are said kindly. Again, you wonder at Iudas’ past and of his time in the East. He continues, "But the best medicine for such things is light and laughter. Come, let us awake the kitchen staff. I will tell you what I heard of Cnotheos the bumbler this past week. Before long, you are cracking jokes yourself - grateful for Iudas' gentle words and consideration. The nightmare is quickly forgotten.

>more coming

---

As you finish your breakfast, Iudas mentions that Molpagorus, the thin and bearded man who often represents the commoners under your care, has been requesting a meeting with you - apparently, he has tried several times over the past month, but in each case, you had been occupied with other matters; tracking down Labostas, organizing the Summons, the Hilltop Raid itself. You haven't seen him since that first awkward morning a month ago, where you assumed command of the household. Iudas has surmised that he wishes to propose an estate infrastructure project of one kind or another friendly reminder that Deianira is sitting on TWO οἶκος points, which can be spent to improve the palace, grounds, and facilities of the Hippomedon οἶκος. Perhaps you would do well to meet with him?

Iudas, though, has mentioned several other matters that relate to the οἶκος, and each of these need to be addressed at one point or another. In particular, he reports that the stream at the foot of your palace has uncharacteristically become muddy and foul-smelling - the women of your οἶκος are displeased that they have to walk much further for their laundry and to draw fresh water for the household. This concern you take seriously - easy access to clean water from the stream was one of the primary advantages of this hilltop. You consider carefully, as you pray to Demeter Πολυφορβος, the all-nourishing, for your breakfast of vegetables and grains.

>Time for a Deianira Action, /qst/! As a friendly reminder, this action represents the personal deeds of Deianira during this part of the month; she'll have a Witch Action and an Oikos Action before Phase 4 is complete. It is currently in the early Summer - Nikon is probably getting ready to sail to Salamis at about this time, if you assume that he's been at sea for about a month when he is accosted by pirates. Each phase is approximately 10 days, and Damachides must die before the end of Phase 6, or else you risk the wrath of Aristonax (bumbler that he is).

Here are some likely options for Deianira:

>Meet with the men of the First Platoon and the Aristonaxian Hillguard. Perhaps best to solidify your relations with the men after the successful Hilltop Raid and your deft treatment of their wounds?

>Meet with Iudas and learn of his Shasu origins; his motivations to staying within the οἶκος?

>Meet with Argyros to learn of his actions in the Theban War, and of the wartime exploits of your father?

>Meet with Pantaleon to inquire his own background or motivations? Alternately, perhaps he might assist you in scouting the estates and palace of Damachides, expert tracker and man of the wilds that he is?

>Meet with Molpagorus as Iudas suggested? You suspect that he has many projects to improve your palace and estates to suggest to you?

>Investigate the stream at the base of the hill, determine the cause of its changed appearance?

>Something else?

>>5697078
>Meet with Pantaleon to inquire his own background or motivations? Alternately, perhaps he might assist you in scouting the estates and palace of Damachides, expert tracker and man of the wilds that he is?
Best to get a move on in offing Damachides.

>>5697078
>Meet with Pantaleon to inquire his own background or motivations? Alternately, perhaps he might assist you in scouting the estates and palace of Damachides, expert tracker and man of the wilds that he is?
It’s simply too important

>>5697078
>Meet with Pantaleon to inquire his own background or motivations? Alternately, perhaps he might assist you in scouting the estates and palace of Damachides, expert tracker and man of the wilds that he is?
Panthaleon the Chad

>>5697078
>Investigate the stream at the base of the hill, determine the cause of its changed appearance?

Fixing the stream seems so urgent even if being sidetracked every turn while making molpargus wait seems rude.

Either would also help direct the oikos action this turn i feel but being locked into a project while maintenance is needed on the stream would be bad.

I wonder if being a witch and staying up late for spells is denying us a second turn of management since it seems the backlog would never get done.

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>>5697078
>>Meet with the men of the First Platoon and the Aristonaxian Hillguard. Perhaps best to solidify your relations with the men after the successful Hilltop Raid and your deft treatment of their wounds?

>>5697078
>>Meet with Molpagorus as Iudas suggested? You suspect that he has many projects to improve your palace and estates to suggest to you?

>>5697078
>>Investigate the stream at the base of the hill, determine the cause of its changed appearance?
should talk with old argyros before he goes away remember, also molpargus

>>5697112
I change my mind, switching to this
>Investigate the stream at the base of the hill, determine the cause of its changed appearance?
Wear the silk. When is G-boy coming?

>>5697078
I swear if the dirtied stream is because tropanus decided to take a bath were going to strangle him, useful secret rituals or not.

I can already imagine the scene with his satyr body leaving a trail of brown muck downriver and the traumatized water nimph of the stream trying to dry scrub herself clean on the shore lamenting how she will never feel clean again.

>>5697375

You’re not too far off the mark, anon… update tonight.

>>5697078
>Meet with Molpagorus as Iudas suggested? You suspect that he has many projects to improve your palace and estates to suggest to you?

>>5697378
Time to arm ourselves with soap then to chase away stinky satyrs

>>5697078
>Meet with Molpagorus as Iudas suggested? You suspect that he has many projects to improve your palace and estates to suggest to you?
It's too early to deal with satyrs again

>>5697378
Panty and some men can come with us

Rolled 1 (1d2)

Scout things out with Pantyboy

>>5697109
>>5697130

Investigate the stream

>>5697151
>>5697232
>>5697274

See what the spearmen are up to

>>5697155

Endure Molpagorus' whining about civil engineering

>>5697230
>>5697407
>>5697543

---

Surprisingly, we have a tie between investigating the stream and checking out Molpagorus' Home Improvements slidedeck. I'm rolling a 1d2 to determine 'Nira's course of action. 1 = Check out the stream, and 2 = Find Molpagorus.


>>5697274

'Nira will bring the silk for whatever activity she engages in, but will realize IC what we already know as players - the Black Sash doesn't seem to do anything in broad daylight.

>>5697151

You raise an important point - Deianira has had lots of things to do in her Witch Action over the last several phases but in future turns, I'll allow players to convert 'Nira's Witch Action into a Deianira Action and vice versa.

>>5697746

Stream, it is.

Unfortunately, tonight's update with be delayed - my sincere apologies all. Lost control of my day at around 8am and I never really recovered.

Also, I would like to announce that I'll be traveling from 06/30 through 07/04, so it TWQ:DS will be on a brief hiatus starting this Friday - I'm hoping to get at least two more updates out before I leave.

Some general questions for /qst/ to discuss if there's interest:

>What would you like to see more of in Deianira's Quest? Any critiques or complaints? Suggestions for a better quest?

As you think further, the stream’s condition is an urgent matter – easy access to cleanly water is critical to the ongoing functioning of the οἶκος, not to mention that asking your staff to hike across the hilly countryside in all weather conditions is a recipe for discontent. One of Νίκων’s better qualities was that he worked to solve minor issues with the same speed and earnestness as the larger ones; his solutions were always effective, even if he did not always handle social disputes with grace. You decide to emulate his work ethic and set about collecting Pantaleon expeditiously – to your good fortune, he had already assembled his three best trackers for hunting; you nod in recognition as you meet with them – these were the same three men who had helped locate Labostas’ camp for the Hilltop Raid. They mutter various polite pleasantries in their rural accents, and you acknowledge them gracefully as is your custom.

Pantaleon, as usual, is silent as you request him and his men follow you down to the stream at the base of the estate’s hill. Normally, he might offer you a glare, or perhaps a half-hidden scowl of irritation – but this morning, he seems tense, his shoulders set awkwardly. His conduct reminds you of the first morning of your leadership of the οἶκος, when he had refused to meet your eyes. A mystery to be solved later, you think.

As you approach the stream itself, you at once notice the problem – the stream itself is not very broad, perhaps only two strides across, and less than a stride deep. The water has been typically clear and cold, a small trickle of run-off from Mount Olympus that meanders through the hills, stopping here and there in small ponds, and eventually joins with the mighty Peneus as it travels south. You spent your childhood roaming the estate grounds and had splashed through this very spot uncountable times in play. Occasionally, you had seen a local daimon lounging about on the banks, or submerged in the water itself; bathing in the waters. In your youth, you and your brother had not realized at first that you were the only two who could see the “water woman” – once this was reported to your mother, still possessing her wits at that time, she sharply demanded that you keep your distance upon pain of beating.

>more coming

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Pantaleon clears his throat expectantly, startling you - you had been lost in your recollections. You quickly scan the stream and banks but see no nymph or naiad present. Without much else to go on, you simply elect to continue up the banks of the stream, to see if you might discover the source of the water’s filth.
In ten minutes time, you come across a small wooden shrine, perhaps only as high as your thighs – festooned with leafy vegetations and fronds of the river, as well as various lilies and flowers. You haven’t seen it before, but clearly, some of your staff have placed offerings here – the faint scent of roasted barley and fish seems to linger about the place. You know your brother well enough to know that such a shrine was not his doing – he was quick to whittle away his boyhood, but could not part with his childish oath against all the sons of Tethys and their kin.

Again, you crane your neck, but see no signs of daimons in any direction – the muddy stream continues out of sight, and around a bend. Pantaleon and his men try their best to look disinterested in your wanderings, patiently shadowing your steps, but you suspect that they know that you are hunting a daimon - they are eager to see one of the divines, you are sure. You sigh deeply. What do you know so far? You have reason to believe that your staff have made offerings to the daimon of the stream in the past, and you can reasonably surmise that some aspect of these relations has gone astray, but not much else to go on.

>How will Deianira solve this dilemma?

>Inspect the shrine more carefully?

>Have Pantaleon and the hunters scour the area for informative tracks, and other such clues?

>Return to the oikos and inquire among the commoners who built the shrine and who uses it frequently?

>Deianira continues to march alongside the riverside in the hopes of finding the daimon who resides with the stream?

>Something else?

>>5698504
>Deianira continues to march alongside the riverside in the hopes of finding the daimon who resides with the stream?
Try to look upstream.
>inb4 Nikon tried to damn the river before leaving

>>5698504
>Inspect the shrine more carefully?

>>5698504
>>Inspect the shrine more carefully?

>>5698504
>>Have Pantaleon and the hunters scour the area for informative tracks, and other such clues?

>>5698504
>>Deianira continues to march alongside the riverside in the hopes of finding the daimon who resides with the stream?

>>5698504
>Inspect the shrine more carefully?

Looking upstream is likely to show us the problem directly, but by inspecting the shrine we might get some info about the river's guardian or even catch their attention to get the problem explained before bumbling into a possibly dangerous situation.
Likewise without knowing if the shrine has been messed with there seems no need to look for tracks downstream of the problem unless the daemon was so upset they forgot to keep their anti-normies wards up.

>>5698504
>Deianira continues to march alongside the riverside in the hopes of finding the daimon who resides with the stream?

Rolled 2 (1d2)

keep marching

>>5698514
>>5698726
>>5698902

shrinevestigation

>>5698538
>>5698547
>>5698848

Pantaleon and his boys get at it

>>5698701

---

Hmm, another tie. Rolling a 1d2 to break. 1 = Deianira keeps marching, 2 = she investigates the shrine.

Kneeling, you investigate the wooden shrine more thoroughly. Crudely hewn and assembled, it is clearly the work of commoners, and likewise, the offerings upon the small altar of the shrine have clearly been gathered from the countryside. Some of the offerings of flowers are old and wilted, and others clearly quite recent additions - the bundling of these flowers was expertly done with a thread of fabric - the knots on these still quite firm, as you tug on them gently. Your intuition suggests that it was a woman who left these offerings to the river daimon - it is mostly women who approach the banks of the stream for their washing, and you find it hard to imagine that one of the clumsy-fingered commoner men might be responsible for the offerings of wild-flowers.

Brushing aside some of the leafy fronds upon the altar surface, you see faint markings in a roughly round pattern - rubbing them, they are a bit sticky. You bring your fingers to your nose and are rewarded with the very faint scent of honey – together, you surmise that the woman had left an extravagant offering of honeyed bread. The honey was no doubt stolen from your very limited reserves. Frowning, you put aside the fact of the thievery to continue your investigation.

As you search the base of the altar - you see a smaller sandalprint - the mark of a large child or young adult's step, perhaps. A story is coming together now - the offerings, made routinely, left to the river daimon, and this last one of honeyed bread – pilfered by a hungry child? This might explain the muddy river - a daimon could certainly be angered by the theft of their due.

You quickly summon Pantaleon and his trackers, and they take only a few seconds to investigate the sandalprint.

“Children are sometimes easier to track, sometimes harder. Light feet, but less caution in the stride. But this one is older – probably thirteen or fourteen, by the depth of the depressions in the soil.” Pantaleon offers, still refusing to meet your gaze. Within a few moments, they have scoured the area, and before long, you are striding back down to the stream banks. The trail is invisible to you, and even Pantaleon seems to lose the tracks once or twice, doubling back over the leafy brush and reeds along the banks.

Only a few minutes more minutes pass before Pantaleon is hailed by one of his proteges yelling loudly for assistance – marching swiftly, you meet the men by the water and gasp in surprise.

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The girl, a dark-haired young woman of thirteen or fourteen summers, lies half-covered amongst a thatch of reeds and brush. She lies upon the earth, her face hidden by the vegetation, motionless, her small chiton filthy with mud and dirt. You see dried blood upon her scalp, beneath her wet hair, and more of it flaking on the back of her neck – an ugly wound parts her hair above the left temple. Your instincts as a healer take over, and with extreme delicacy, your fingertips trace the neck and back of the girl. The skull is unbroken, which is both a blessing and a curse, but the wound was almost certainly a mortal wound. In desperation, you lay your head upon the child’s back, pressing your ear against the wet clothing.

She lives.

You hear the unmistakable sound of a heartbeat – weak, fluttering irregularly at a rapid pace, but beating all the same. Rising, you belt out a series of commands to Pantaleon and his team. She is too weak to be moved, you think. Instead, you move expeditiously to make a soft bed of reeds and brush, and with extreme caution, roll the child onto your makeshift cot with Pantaleon’s help. You’re careful to keep the child’s head stable – any sudden movement may dislodge the blocked humors of the head to disastrous effect. A quick investigation of the child’s face and eyes reveals tremendous swelling on the left side of her head and face - she is unconscious and unresponsive. You are late to find her – she must have been lying here for a day or more, but there is still a chance.

You hear Spathion’s acid voice in your mind – “You must relieve the pressure, idiot girl. Quickly!”. With dread, you send Pantaleon and his men to gather your tools, and within an anxious few minutes, you are armed with a pot of boiling water, bandages – and Pantaleon’s flint. You gulp nervously, but with the girl’s life in the balance, you are forced to act. You must open the skull, and relieve the pressure upon the brains of the girl. The increased pressure has blocked her humors - only by opening her skullcase can you relieve said pressure and allow her humors to drain naturally into the body. Even if this is done, it is a desperate procedure and a dangerous one. She may very well perish in your attempt - but you must try.

The cutting of the scalp fold is easy enough, with a hot knife - and with the flint in hand, you begin scraping against the bone of the skull directly above the wound...

>Players, I need TWO rolls of dice+1d20+6 to determine if the girl survives 'Nira's trepanation attempt.
>DCs are high - 18, 22, 24. Best of luck.

Rolled 11 + 6 (1d20 + 6)

>>5699309
This ain't going to be pretty.

Rolled 9 + 6 (1d20 + 6)

>>5699309

>>5699311
>>5699314
Rip

>>5699311
>>5699314

>17 vs 18 - marginal failure.

A sad moment for Deianira; this one is not saved. Asclepius’s shade in the Elysian Fields sheds a tear on your behalf, anons…

The next update likely won’t be until 07/05 or so, but I’ll be around for discussion or questions.

One question I’ve been wrestling with: Fresh Olympian Blood’s 2 wound regen happens every round of combat, but what constitutes a round? Presumably a round is just one set of to-hit vs dodge, wound vs block rolls, but the regen seems quite fast if that’s the case. Also, Nik’s jobbing to Diomedes makes me think that the regen kicks in the round AFTER damage is dealt. Not sure if anons have other thoughts

Rolled 12 (1d20)

>>5699311
>>5699314
Y'all should have rolled like this. Pour one out for the dead lil homie.

>>5699416
rip

>>5699317

>I’m phone-posting in shoddy connectivity so no thematic picture with tonight’s update.

The sound of your scraping against the girl’s skull is harsh on your ears, and the sensation jolts your wrists and hands unpleasantly. It is surprisingly bloodless, once you begin working on the bone proper - as you work, you hear Pantaleon and his men muttering to one another. Pantaleon is assuring them that such trepanation is the girl’s only chance of survival, but even as you work, you know the chance is a slim one.

You have never trepanned a person before - Spathion once allowed you to do so on a heifer slated for butchery in the oikos kitchen, and scoffed at the idea that you might ever need to do so on a man.

“Let us pray to the divines that you are never lowered to such barbarities.” Her acidic remarks hadn’t dimmed your enthusiasm though, and to your surprise, she had assisted you in the attempt. The heifer had survived your amateur procedure - although only for several hours before it was brought to the kitchen for slaughter anyways.

And this is how you made your mistake - thinking of the heifer, with its thicker skull plate and tougher tissue. After several minutes of careful scraping, you inadvertently break through the girl’s weakened skull, as you push the flint, and with dread, see that you have torn the dull gray lining beneath. To rend the lining is fatal; always this is the case. Even if she survived the head blow itself, her death by fever and vomiting is now assured - a drawn-out affair that could last up to a week, but more likely to be four or five days of spine-breaking writhing and delirium. Such a death is a cruelty and an affront to gentle Ελεος, goddess of mercy. As the certainty of her death comes to rest upon your shoulders, you lose your composure, the color draining from your sight. You weep as you slash the girl’s throat with your father’s bronze blade, sending her to the realm of Hades Νεκροδεγμων, the receiver of the dead, and sparing her torment of a fevered death.

Under your tears and prayers for the girl’s shade, your blood begins to roar.

This girl was [red][i]MURDERED[/i][/red]. She was under your protection at the οἶκος, a servant of the house, and her death is an insult to your authority. You may have drawn the knife against her flesh, but you are only her second killer - the first wielded a rock or stone against her skull, beating her down upon the grounds of your estate. Your heart thunders in your breast, your muscles tense painfully; your right arm freezes in the memory of Abercion’s grasp. You only barely manage to keep an earsplitting shriek of rage from erupting from your throat; instead, you merely hyperventilate.

Rising to your feet, you see that Pantaleon and his men have taken many steps back from you - giving you the same wide berth as they might a hissing lion. The issue of the muddy river cast aside for now - you give your orders quickly.

>>5700215

The girl is laid carefully upon a hastily-arranged cot in the courtyard of the palace - the warmth of the late afternoon has brought a semblance of life to her cheeks. There is a pleasant breeze, as you summon for water and oils to wash the girl; incongruous given the dreadfulness of the task. These orders are heeded swiftly and you set about the task of washing the body without delay. You inspect her more carefully as the οἶκος assembles - and as you wash her hands, you notice that there is dried blood beneath her fingernails. At once, you intuit that this blood must be from the attacker - the head wound was so significant that she no doubt lost her senses immediately; she must have slashed at him prior to the blow being struck. Carefully, you extract these flakes of reddish material and place them within a small ampoule from your purse, along with warm water. You learn that the name of the girl is Meurestes, and that she was the second eldest daughter of your kitchen’s cook. As the household staff are wailing in their dismay, and the parents of the girl are being summoned, you enact your witch’s will.

>Deianira uses Witch’s Sense!
>this is a free action that can be taken to gain the rough location of a person, provided that ‘Nira has a sample of their bodily fluids.

Not a true ritual, Spathion explained that this trick of [i]finding[/i] was more of a curiosity; a side effect of witching blood rather than any true φύσις born of herbs or wand. With your face held high, warm light of Helios Ὑπεριονιδες, son of Hyperion, upon your skin, you dab the bloody solution in your left eye, on your tongue, and upon the rising flesh of your bosom, directly above your heart. The pulling sensation that develops is slow to build over several minutes, vague, but it tells you what you need to know.

The attacker is close. Within the palace.

But how to draw them out?

>Assemble the staff of the household for the digging of a burial pit, and funeral procession. This might give you a chance to investigate each person of the staff in turn for scratches and wounds? However, this approach might spook the guilty party.

>Post Pantaleon and his hunters on the doors of the courtyard for someone fleeing the grounds, and adopt a more subtle approach? Lead a small ceremony for Meurestes’ funeral and then investigate the οἶκος staff tonight?

>Complete the funerary rites for Meurestes and then return to the stream shrine with a goat for an offering? Perhaps you will draw the attention of the river daimon this way? It occurs to you that they may have observed the murder. However, you may have to hunt down the culprit a second time using your Witch’s Sense, and they may have time to flee.

>Something else that I haven’t thought of?