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but first, a brief interlude in the “present day” before Seven Against Thebes resumes properly

In the Palace of Peleus Aeacides, King of Phthia

You are Lady Deianira Hippomedion, and in the months since your dear brother Nikandros departed from Thessaly, you have learned many valuable things about yourself.

You have learned that you are a survivor – having crossed paths with nymphs, centaurs, satyrs and deities, you know better your strengths… and your mortal frailties. Your right forearm, now marked with the blackened, icy fingerprints of an unknown divinity is proof of the former, and your hobbled right ankle, is proof of the latter.

You have learned that you are a conniver, a traitor to your countrymen, and a murderer – and your peaceful sleep is untroubled by these revelations.

You have learned that you are a true witch – your mind and beguiling tongue more dangerous than any spear, your clever fingers able to heal or poison as you see fit.

You have learned that vengeance is your most fervent desire, narrowly eclipsing your love for your brother and the people of your oikos. A red-hot oath of revenge burns unfulfilled in your gut, twisting this way and that… The clammy hands of a nymph reach out of your memory to strangle you at odd moments and without warning, leaving you gasping for breath. You know that only her destruction will free you from these episodes and every day, you ache for that future moment.

Patience, ‘Nira, your brother’s youthful baritone whispers in your mind. You must have patience. You will find her in time.

And finally, you have found yourself to be Thessalian noblewoman, adroitly identifying the needs of your οἶκος and rectifying these in the service of greater wealth, prestige, safety and security. Having previously lost your dearest attendant, Iudas, through the black treachery of the same nymph who had nearly strangled you, and with the expectation that your family’s military lieutenant, gray-maned Argyros, will soon depart to join your brother in Aulis, you have come to Phthia to secure a capable commander for your household. A third steward of yours, the half-civilized Epirot Pantaleon, has either abandoned your service entirely, or instead prowls the Thessalian countryside, daring you to seek him out – you’re not sure which.

You have traveled from your country estate in the rolling foothills of Mount Olympus, into bustling Phthia, the fortress domain of your liege-lord, King Peleus Aeacides. Now, you stand before his chief steward, King Phoinix of the Dolopians, tutor of Achilles, in the austere environs of a small antechamber off Peleus’ main hall – his μέγαρον.

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You have found Phoinix to be trim, attentive, and professional, as you had explained your need of a new steward, and he shared a rejoinder, his brown eyes shining with polite interest:

“King Peleus has many men who might be of service to you, Deianira. But in what way may you serve Peleus? The appropriate gift will produce the appropriate man.” You respect Phoinix’s frankness – he cuts to the core question without delay.

You consider - King Peleus is wealthy beyond measure, so much so that any Timae you can produce is unlikely to impress him. You briefly consider selling yourself as a bride – an unmarried, beautiful noblewoman with a productive Thessalian estate would be a valuable prize to some young lord of the Phthian court, and therefore politically useful for Peleus – but you discard the possibility immediately. The idea that you would turn over your marriage prospects to an elderly tyrant is laughable – not to mention, your brother, loyal to a fault, has already sworn you an unbreakable vow to deliver your husband, and you fully expect him to do so.

Only your services as a witch and physician might prompt real interest from Peleus – famed and feared as Thessalian witches might be, you know them to be quite uncommon in practice. Very few women have the divine heritage (as you do, albeit indirect and of unclear provenance), the talent and will to weave spells and brew magic potions, and access to a talented mentor to shape the gift. Even to this day, you do not know how your mother, Euanippe, was able to secure the services of Spathion, your dry and humorless witching tutor – or for that matter, the true tale of how your mother managed to escape a crumbling Argos in the devastation of the failed war that killed your father. As an adult woman, you now see that it must have been a desperate flight through Hellas - a widow pregnant with one of the last true Argive heirs, and in her arms, a bawling daughter of three. You wonder -

You suddenly remember where you are - Phoinix still awaits your answer. Your words spill forth in the clear tones of a singing bird, and you state the truth simply:

“I am a witch, King Phoinix, and can provide King Peleus with all manner of spells and potions.”

Phoinix allows himself a raised eyebrow – appreciation for your own directness, you suspect, before he asks -

“And have you brought a selection of your wares to display for your King?”

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You answer by lifting your witch’s satchel and revealing the vials within – the deep purple of Kerberos’ Slaverings, clear Lethes’ Draft, aromatic Dionysian Frankencense, murky Pan’s Philter, and even several aliquots of Hippomedon’s Essence. This last glows faintly in the shaded antechamber – proof enough of your capabilities as a witch. Phoinix peers with interest, and finally says to you –

“Wait here until you are summoned by the King. You must speak loudly to him – he cannot hear the higher pitches as well as he once did.”

>well, /qst/ - a long-delayed meeting between ‘Nira and Peleus is at hand. Peleus is growing senile, and his moods are unpredictable, especially when confronted with the unexpected.

>I need a single brave anon to roll a dice+1d10 to determine Deianira’s random social bonus for this interaction. A 1 corresponds to a -5 malus, a 10 to a +5 bonus – this will be added ‘Nira’s typical (and substantial0 social bonii for the upcoming social encounter.

>For those anons who might be interested in the full accounting of 'Nira's tale (and much has happened in only a few months), please see below:

>Trojan War Quest: Deianira’s Sidestory #1: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2023/5644134/
>Trojan War Quest: Deianira's Sidestory #2: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2023/5687242/
>Trojan War Quest: Deianira's Sidestory #2.1: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2023/5725902/

Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>6180076
We all know the dice are cursed. May as well rip the bandaid. Peleus is a demented old fuck anyway.

>>6180106

You've spoken too soon!

An impressive +5 bonus to be applied to Deianira's already substantial social bonuses - it's been a while since I've looked at Deianira's stat sheet, but I'm pretty sure that the math is as follows:

>Nira's natural CHA bonus is +5
>She additionally obtains her full +4 witch bonus to social encounters - Peleus is a lecherous old bastard.
>And now, a mighty +5 social bonus as well - for a total of +14.
>will start writing now - post later tonight if all goes well.

Once again, Deianira is set to outperform expectations - she really has become the more successful of the two siblings...

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“Come, Lady Deianira – you’ve caught your King in a pleasant mood. He is in his private chambers – he will hear you better there.”

Phoinix makes no further comment as he leads you past the impressive megaron – you catch a brief glimpse of marvelous friezes, tapestries of Eastern manufacture, and an unyielding stone throne dominating the μέγαρον.
Entering Peleus’ private chambers, you find that it is quite bare – an empty armorstand in the far wall, with a set of brackets above it – no doubt that the famous spear and armor of Peleus has traveled with Achilles to Aulis. Peleus himself is lounging comfortably upon a richly-cushioned couch – in his hand, you notice a heavy, golden cup of wine, already mostly empty.

He is, without a doubt, the oldest man you have ever laid eyes upon – a gray mane of hair, surprisingly thick, cascades about his neck and shoulders, and his beard remains quite full. A heavy crown of gold, worked with jewels, sits upon his brow – likely, it’s worth more than your entire estate. His face is deeply wrinkled and marked with the spots that come with a long life, and his eyes are shot through with flecks of gold, like your own – alert, they quickly take you in. Despite his advanced age, he maneuvers himself to a stand with surprising agility. You find that he is taller than you, still broad of chest and shoulders, and unbent by his years. When he speaks, his aged voice is stronger than you would have guessed.

Today, at least, he is not a frail and confused old man – you speak to one of the mightiest kings of Hellas, and a grandson of Zeus Βασιλευς himself.

Wisely, you wait patiently for his address, demurely lowering your gaze as you settle to your knees in the customary supplication. He nods to Phoinix once, some message silently passing between them, before speaking to you – the rumbling sound of distant thunder on a pleasant summer’s night.

“Lady Deianira – your presence today is a rare and pleasant gift – unexpected visits from a beautiful woman are the best kind! Already, I see that you have the proper way with your elders… unlike your brother.” This remark catches you entirely off-guard – had Nikandros embarrassed himself in front of Peleus?! – but you manage to still your thoughts, and keep your face placid, as Peleus continues.

>cont

Rolled 17, 5, 12, 17 + 1 = 52 (4d20 + 1)

“Phoinix tells me that you are in need of a capable commander for your household – of these, I have very many in the Myrmidons, and a smaller handful of men with greater talents, that I may choose to gift your small estate with. Such is the generosity of Peleus! In return, you seek to provide a gift of sorcery and magic for this exchange. By this request, I see that you have a keen mind – anticipating the needs of both yourself and your king; such perceptive cooperation profits all.” He smiles magnanimously, tilting his head– you immediately sense that few people receive a compliment from King Peleus. Without missing a beat, you incline your head even further and spread your hands to the side – silently thanking him for the gift of his words. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a true grin bloom on the king’s face.

“So – enough of formality. Show me these potions that you have brought and tell me of their powers.”

You produce your witch’s satchel – Phoinix appears at your side with a folding table, and you quickly organize your vials for display. As you place each one upon the table, you launch into a brief explanation of these, keenly aware that the safety of your household likely depends on the next few minutes…

>okay, /qst/ - let’s see if Deianira can keep the good times rolling. I’ll be rolling for Peleus – he has a +1 WILL bonus, per Homer’s original thread, although I’m giving him an extra die, for four total – you are meeting with him in his private chambers, he has some preparation for the meeting, and he has his full mental faculties today.

>I need THREE rolls of dice+1d20+14 for Deianira’s sales pitch! Successes here will translate to superior candidates for her household. A victory of 4 successes or more may have additional benefits…

Rolled 19 + 14 (1d20 + 14)

>>6180159
Spooky, Peleus has six fingers on his right.

Rolled 8 + 14 (1d20 + 14)

>>6180109
>she really has become the more successful of the two siblings...
Well she is better min/maxed. So. Kind of expected.

>>6180159

>>6180165

IMHO, Nikon was built for mid/late quest utter dominance but never had the opportunity to display his full powers.

The level 2->3 power leap is also pretty significant, and Nikon had been pretty well-positioned to either vault into the top third of mortal fighters, become a paragon of athletic excellence, or become a sort of tactical mini-Odysseus. True social dominance was probably out of the question for him, given that he’d has to sacrifice quite a bit to become competent in that area…

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>>6180169
>The level 2->3 power leap is also pretty significant,
Maybe if he had gotten that level up upon entering Troy he wouldn't have died. I am just busting your balls.

>>6180184

Kek.

Personally, I still can’t get over the probability of a successful abduction of Paris, followed by Hector’s appearance in the Royal apartments (1/20), Pollux completely botching the social rolls (charitably, 1/3ish), Hector then going SSJ (1/40 or so, can’t recall), and finally, players choosing to end the quest. What a dramatic series of events, ye gods

Rolled 6 + 14 (1d20 + 14)

>>6180159

>>6180169
I hope one day you can rip the bandaid and do a "Deianira selects a suitor" quest.

Hail Noble Lesches!
I feared for your return.
In another Qst on the board, Ivan may yet have need of another ally...

>>6180200

I mean, that’s certainly a possibility, but given what we’ve seen from Deianira so far, I’m somewhat doubtful that if she later hears that Nikon is dead, she’ll simply move on and get married to some schmuck…

>>6180203

Ahem, I’ve been meaning to post over there and apologize to you guys, thanks for the prompting…

>>6180215
>she’ll simply move on and get married to some schmuck…
She isn't, because we'll be choosing

>>6180216
She'll revive him. Bet.

>>6180163
>>6180165
>>6180198

>33 vs 18 - >3 successes!
>Nira wins top access to Peleus Consulting Group… and a bonus offer!

Will get started on an update, should be posted by 10pm EST tomorrow (and perhaps 50% chance it’s done by tonight). This brief interlude sequence is basically setting Deianira’s agenda in the “present”, now that Nikon’s plotline has been addressed, and we should be able to delve into the past (Hippomedon’s present) in the next day or two.

>>6180215
>schmuck
teukie...

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MY DREAM IN THE /QTG/ HAS BEEN ANSWERED
THANK YOU LESCHES

“High King Peleus, if you please – examine the quality of this vial of Kerberos’ Slaverings – see how the concoction is quite viscous? This is seen when it is particularly lethal – this vial alone contains enough poison to kill many men; I can produce one dose per month in the summer, when the right flowers are in bloom…”

You waste no time in setting your trap - you are efficient and adopt a tone of breathless interest. A king at the height of his power, with the blood of Zeus in his veins, will assume that all women find him magnetic. At the same time, you must appear innocent, and proceed carefully, so that Peleus is not moved to… take matters into his own hands… and in the process, risking further punishment by a vengeful goddess. You know nothing of Thetis and therefore must assume that the goddess is a jealous wife. Therefore, you are impassioned, but you do not meet the gaze of the king for overly long. Your dazzling smiles flash quickly and vanish – the sun peeking behind clouds. A tantalizing brush against his wrist as you place a vial for his inspection, but nothing further.

As you recite the properties of the rest, you give natural pauses for Peleus to ask questions – most of these are quite reasonable, although a few are somewhat nonsensical. You note that Peleus’ kingly composure is subtly fractured at your description of Pan’s Philter – a gleam of lust entering his eye. At any rate, you take pains to congratulate him on his perceptive nature as you speak – praise that seems to win you further regard.

But as you hold aloft a vial of (the poorly named, you must admit...) Hippomedon’s Essence, the last potion to be presented, and begin to expound about the nature of its creation – Peleus interrupts you sharply:

”What did you say, girl?”

You freeze in alarm, holding the shimmering, ruddy potion in his view. Peleus suddenly steps closer, and his piercing gaze takes in your face and eyes once more – a war is being fought in his mind. But just as you perceive the internal conflict, the war is over – Peleus falls out of his reverie, his decision made.

Before you can respond to him, King Peleus hisses at Phoinix:

“Phoinix, a private moment with the young noblewoman is in order. Shut the door firmly and summon the players.”

>cont

Phoinix disappears thoroughly, and Peleus holds a finger against his lips – silence!. Bizarrely, he spins about and searches the room, taking in every corner, examining even under the couch. In a minute more, a team of musicians takes up their art just outside Peleus’ locked door, complete with loud brass and drums. When this occurs, Peleus hands you a slender dagger.

“Show me the color of your blood, Deianira Hippomedion,” he commands.

Your face is composed as you puncture the pad of your left thumb; a droplet of blood is quick to appear, as rich and dark as a fine wine. Peleus seizes your hand and jams your thumb into his own mouth; you are disgusted, but you allow your face to display only curiosity. Peleus is seemingly satisfied, and interrogates you further:

“Who was your teacher, Deianira – who tutored you in the art of witching?”

“I do not know her true name – Spathion is what she called herself, my liege – a prim and dry woman. I have not seen or spoken with her for many years,” you reply honestly. A confusing line of inquiry, to be sure – what is he driving at?

Peleus exhales in some relief - and interrogates you further in a whisper, only just audible over the musicians outside:

“Tell me again how the potion is made!”

“It is a process by which I collect, purify and concentrate my own blood over days, my liege. The solution is stepped with oils of oregano and thyme; spells are cast at appropriate intervals through the day and night. A person who imbibes the solution enjoys the benefits of my divine heritage for a time – a commoner might be affected for several days. For a man like yourself, perhaps only several hours…”

If Peleus’ composure was previously fractured, now it is shattered – he stares at the vial with open greed, his mouth moving absentmindedly. He is muttering something, just audible:

“Perhaps there is still time, after all – the secret path…”

He surprises you by popping the vial’s wax cap and dumping its contents into his throat. At once, color surges into his pallid cheeks – Peleus grins broadly as he extends his invigorated arms, testing his strength - his eyes are clouded, remembering old victories. He abruptly remembers your presence – a wolf catching sight of a hare, his gold-flecked eyes locked onto your own.

“Deianira, tell no one of this potion or the method of its creation. A courier will be sent to your estate monthly to collect one potion of each type. If I summon you to Phthia – do not delay. Agree to the pact, and you will return home with two hundred Myrmidons and their attendants, to join your estate, in addition to one of my finest lieutenants.”

>well, /qst/? Take it or leave it - vote closes in 24 hours. Myrmidons are Rank 3 troops, with great gear - these troops are sorely needed and very valuable. But does Deianira want to spend all of her time brewing potions for this secretive pact?

>YES

>NO

>>6180384
>YES
Drug dealer Nira.
200 men and a fine lieutenant. Maybe even kingly favor.
>secret path
stealing divinity? Nira's? Whatever it is cannot be good. Maybe weasel more benefits out of the pact.

>two hundred Myrmidons and their attendants
>and their attendants
Wait 2 attendant: 1 myrmidon? Would Nira be bringing back 600 people (400 attendants: 200 myrmidons.)

>YES
Although we should make clear that if we have cause to travel, we shall prepare enough in advance to cover the time we shall be away, & if we should have a shortage of necessary components, we would call upon him to aide us.

>>6180384
>NO

>>6180402
+1

>>6180384
Welcome back, QM. Been missing this quest.

>>6180396

Nira actually is not sure of the ratio here, since she has only passing familiarity with warfare. But Peleus is clearly making the point that he’ll be sending laborers along with the soldiers so that she can sustain their presence.

With Nira’s new Damachidean Timae, she had the funds needed to build some new housing, if it comes to it.

>>6180425
lot of mouths to feed nonetheless. I don't know if the oikos can even support the influx. Lot of extra hands though. Maybe even enough to beat up the neighbors and take their cattle or build housing.

>>6180384
>>YES
Fortune favours the bold.

>>6180473
Up until it kills you at least.

>>6180481
Nikon was an example of an improper use of caution and boldness. Hence why he died.

>>6180485
Nira was a half second away from dying to a creek with legs.

>>6180502
the 1 and 20 wrestling roll will never cease to impress me.

>>6180504
I truly loathe crits.