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It was becoming increasingly obvious that they would not catch up to the front of the animals before they were able to do some sort of damage, and with the risk of them knocking some of the pyres over and setting the city ablaze, they needed to do something fast. Maleos was never great with a bow, but in that moment he wished he had one. Perhaps taking out the leader of the animals would cause the others to halt in their rampage.
Pulled out of his own thoughts by his name being shouted, he looked over at the Crown Prince, just in time to spot the rope that was being tossed over to him. In a split second he managed to grab it out of the air, and without a moment to think, he spurred his horse on a little faster. They just needed to get close enough to the front animals...
“NOW!” He shouted, not even entirely sure that the Crown Prince knew what he was planning, but Maleos hoped they had a mutual understanding as he tossed the rope forward, having wrapped a bit of it tightly around his hand to keep it from slipping from his grip. They were successful in tossing the rope in front of the front donkeys, and with a tug the rope tightened and cause the donkeys to immediately begin tripping. The lead animal tripped and slid along the ground for a short distance, and the crowd of animals began to slow as they realized there was something stopping them. The first animal stood and shook itself a bit, and then stood there, looking a bit anxious but not seeming to want to flee again, yet.
He knew they needed to wrangle the animals quickly and take control before they panicked again.
The pressure of the animals hitting the rope had caused it to cut into his hand, blood now streaming down where the material had cut into his flesh, he ignored it and unwrapped the ropes, tossing it to the ground for now.
Two men came running out from the crowd, out of breath and looking panicked. Likely the owners of the animals.
“Get them out of here and secured.” He snapped at them, and quickly the men began to attempt to do exactly that.
Still ignoring the sting of his bleeding hand, Maleos turned his horse to try and survey the damage. He wanted to know if anyone had been hurt during all of this, and if there was anyone who could provide any sort of medical attention if they were.
He spotted two of the men from his unit in the crowd and he motioned them over, sliding down off his horse to speak with them.
“You’re on damage control. See if anyone was hurt, ignore bumps and scratches, if anyone is hurt beyond that, see them to what ever medical attention you can find among the crowds. Ensure that people know the animals have been stopped and they may resume their celebrations.” He stated, and the two men saluted their Lieutenant before going to do as they were told.
Maleos looked around then, unsure of where the Crown Prince had gone, or if he had wished to speak with him in the aftermath of the situation.
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It was becoming increasingly obvious that they would not catch up to the front of the animals before they were able to do some sort of damage, and with the risk of them knocking some of the pyres over and setting the city ablaze, they needed to do something fast. Maleos was never great with a bow, but in that moment he wished he had one. Perhaps taking out the leader of the animals would cause the others to halt in their rampage.
Pulled out of his own thoughts by his name being shouted, he looked over at the Crown Prince, just in time to spot the rope that was being tossed over to him. In a split second he managed to grab it out of the air, and without a moment to think, he spurred his horse on a little faster. They just needed to get close enough to the front animals...
“NOW!” He shouted, not even entirely sure that the Crown Prince knew what he was planning, but Maleos hoped they had a mutual understanding as he tossed the rope forward, having wrapped a bit of it tightly around his hand to keep it from slipping from his grip. They were successful in tossing the rope in front of the front donkeys, and with a tug the rope tightened and cause the donkeys to immediately begin tripping. The lead animal tripped and slid along the ground for a short distance, and the crowd of animals began to slow as they realized there was something stopping them. The first animal stood and shook itself a bit, and then stood there, looking a bit anxious but not seeming to want to flee again, yet.
He knew they needed to wrangle the animals quickly and take control before they panicked again.
The pressure of the animals hitting the rope had caused it to cut into his hand, blood now streaming down where the material had cut into his flesh, he ignored it and unwrapped the ropes, tossing it to the ground for now.
Two men came running out from the crowd, out of breath and looking panicked. Likely the owners of the animals.
“Get them out of here and secured.” He snapped at them, and quickly the men began to attempt to do exactly that.
Still ignoring the sting of his bleeding hand, Maleos turned his horse to try and survey the damage. He wanted to know if anyone had been hurt during all of this, and if there was anyone who could provide any sort of medical attention if they were.
He spotted two of the men from his unit in the crowd and he motioned them over, sliding down off his horse to speak with them.
“You’re on damage control. See if anyone was hurt, ignore bumps and scratches, if anyone is hurt beyond that, see them to what ever medical attention you can find among the crowds. Ensure that people know the animals have been stopped and they may resume their celebrations.” He stated, and the two men saluted their Lieutenant before going to do as they were told.
Maleos looked around then, unsure of where the Crown Prince had gone, or if he had wished to speak with him in the aftermath of the situation.
It was becoming increasingly obvious that they would not catch up to the front of the animals before they were able to do some sort of damage, and with the risk of them knocking some of the pyres over and setting the city ablaze, they needed to do something fast. Maleos was never great with a bow, but in that moment he wished he had one. Perhaps taking out the leader of the animals would cause the others to halt in their rampage.
Pulled out of his own thoughts by his name being shouted, he looked over at the Crown Prince, just in time to spot the rope that was being tossed over to him. In a split second he managed to grab it out of the air, and without a moment to think, he spurred his horse on a little faster. They just needed to get close enough to the front animals...
“NOW!” He shouted, not even entirely sure that the Crown Prince knew what he was planning, but Maleos hoped they had a mutual understanding as he tossed the rope forward, having wrapped a bit of it tightly around his hand to keep it from slipping from his grip. They were successful in tossing the rope in front of the front donkeys, and with a tug the rope tightened and cause the donkeys to immediately begin tripping. The lead animal tripped and slid along the ground for a short distance, and the crowd of animals began to slow as they realized there was something stopping them. The first animal stood and shook itself a bit, and then stood there, looking a bit anxious but not seeming to want to flee again, yet.
He knew they needed to wrangle the animals quickly and take control before they panicked again.
The pressure of the animals hitting the rope had caused it to cut into his hand, blood now streaming down where the material had cut into his flesh, he ignored it and unwrapped the ropes, tossing it to the ground for now.
Two men came running out from the crowd, out of breath and looking panicked. Likely the owners of the animals.
“Get them out of here and secured.” He snapped at them, and quickly the men began to attempt to do exactly that.
Still ignoring the sting of his bleeding hand, Maleos turned his horse to try and survey the damage. He wanted to know if anyone had been hurt during all of this, and if there was anyone who could provide any sort of medical attention if they were.
He spotted two of the men from his unit in the crowd and he motioned them over, sliding down off his horse to speak with them.
“You’re on damage control. See if anyone was hurt, ignore bumps and scratches, if anyone is hurt beyond that, see them to what ever medical attention you can find among the crowds. Ensure that people know the animals have been stopped and they may resume their celebrations.” He stated, and the two men saluted their Lieutenant before going to do as they were told.
Maleos looked around then, unsure of where the Crown Prince had gone, or if he had wished to speak with him in the aftermath of the situation.
It seemed another had noticed their peril as a man approached, instructing them to stay close. There was no time for hesitation. Perhaps in better circumstances, she might have wondered who this stranger was before following. But caught between the chaos of the crowd and the hoard of hooves rampaging towards them, there was no such luxuries.
She followed, but even with Magnus behind her, she found her small size a disadvantage. As she caught someone’s elbow on her chin, she stumbled slightly, reaching out in front of her to find something - anything - to grip. Her hand caught at the helpful stranger’s belt, holding tightly as he pushed through the crowd. She might come out of this a little bruised, but that was far better than crushed.
It wasn’t until they broke out the other side of the crowd that she dared to release the man in front of her. She was gasping for breath, shivering slightly as she felt the air on her sweat covered skin. She straightened to look at both men. Her eyes went first to Magnus who seemed unscathed. It wasn’t until she finally got the opportunity to study the other man that she realized he wasn’t the stranger she had once thought.
“Thras? Is that really you?” she asked, a wide grin slowly spreading across her lips.
It was that action that called attention to the sting of her lip and a metallic taste in her mouth. It seemed that stray elbow had split her lip. She hadn’t noticed it in the frenzied panic of it all. Still, all things considered, it was really a rather minor thing. Her hand shifted to cover her mouth, wincing slightly. “I’m fine,” she assured them both, knowing full well her assurances were not likely to be enough for either man.
She turned her attention back to her friend. “I had no idea you were going to be here! You couldn’t have shown up at a better time though.” She gave a tight-lipped smile. “Truly, thank you. I hate to think what might have happened had you not been there to help.”
Myrrine turned back towards her best friend’s brother then. “And thank you as well, Magnus. Thank the Gods it was you I was shoved into. This could have all been so much worse...”
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It seemed another had noticed their peril as a man approached, instructing them to stay close. There was no time for hesitation. Perhaps in better circumstances, she might have wondered who this stranger was before following. But caught between the chaos of the crowd and the hoard of hooves rampaging towards them, there was no such luxuries.
She followed, but even with Magnus behind her, she found her small size a disadvantage. As she caught someone’s elbow on her chin, she stumbled slightly, reaching out in front of her to find something - anything - to grip. Her hand caught at the helpful stranger’s belt, holding tightly as he pushed through the crowd. She might come out of this a little bruised, but that was far better than crushed.
It wasn’t until they broke out the other side of the crowd that she dared to release the man in front of her. She was gasping for breath, shivering slightly as she felt the air on her sweat covered skin. She straightened to look at both men. Her eyes went first to Magnus who seemed unscathed. It wasn’t until she finally got the opportunity to study the other man that she realized he wasn’t the stranger she had once thought.
“Thras? Is that really you?” she asked, a wide grin slowly spreading across her lips.
It was that action that called attention to the sting of her lip and a metallic taste in her mouth. It seemed that stray elbow had split her lip. She hadn’t noticed it in the frenzied panic of it all. Still, all things considered, it was really a rather minor thing. Her hand shifted to cover her mouth, wincing slightly. “I’m fine,” she assured them both, knowing full well her assurances were not likely to be enough for either man.
She turned her attention back to her friend. “I had no idea you were going to be here! You couldn’t have shown up at a better time though.” She gave a tight-lipped smile. “Truly, thank you. I hate to think what might have happened had you not been there to help.”
Myrrine turned back towards her best friend’s brother then. “And thank you as well, Magnus. Thank the Gods it was you I was shoved into. This could have all been so much worse...”
It seemed another had noticed their peril as a man approached, instructing them to stay close. There was no time for hesitation. Perhaps in better circumstances, she might have wondered who this stranger was before following. But caught between the chaos of the crowd and the hoard of hooves rampaging towards them, there was no such luxuries.
She followed, but even with Magnus behind her, she found her small size a disadvantage. As she caught someone’s elbow on her chin, she stumbled slightly, reaching out in front of her to find something - anything - to grip. Her hand caught at the helpful stranger’s belt, holding tightly as he pushed through the crowd. She might come out of this a little bruised, but that was far better than crushed.
It wasn’t until they broke out the other side of the crowd that she dared to release the man in front of her. She was gasping for breath, shivering slightly as she felt the air on her sweat covered skin. She straightened to look at both men. Her eyes went first to Magnus who seemed unscathed. It wasn’t until she finally got the opportunity to study the other man that she realized he wasn’t the stranger she had once thought.
“Thras? Is that really you?” she asked, a wide grin slowly spreading across her lips.
It was that action that called attention to the sting of her lip and a metallic taste in her mouth. It seemed that stray elbow had split her lip. She hadn’t noticed it in the frenzied panic of it all. Still, all things considered, it was really a rather minor thing. Her hand shifted to cover her mouth, wincing slightly. “I’m fine,” she assured them both, knowing full well her assurances were not likely to be enough for either man.
She turned her attention back to her friend. “I had no idea you were going to be here! You couldn’t have shown up at a better time though.” She gave a tight-lipped smile. “Truly, thank you. I hate to think what might have happened had you not been there to help.”
Myrrine turned back towards her best friend’s brother then. “And thank you as well, Magnus. Thank the Gods it was you I was shoved into. This could have all been so much worse...”
Thrasius was glad when they made it out of the crowds as the worst of the panic really started to set in, they were off to the side, tucked away where no one was really gathered and no one seemed to really notice them. The space was nice, as much as Thrasius liked people and being out, it started getting a bit overwhelming when they were pushing and shoving. Especially for a man with an injured leg who likely could be shoved over if the crowds got a bit too rowdy. The other two seemed thankful as well, and he opened his mouth to start introducing himself when he recognized the woman, at about the same time that she recognized him.
A grin broke out across his face at the recognition, despite the slight injury she seemed to have sustained. It could have been worse.
“Myrrine!” he declared excitedly, truly happy to see her again. He stepped forward and pulled her into a big bear hug, lifting her off the ground for a moment before setting her down. He reached into one of the small pouches at his belt and handed her a clean piece of cloth so that she could use it to clean the blood up off her lip.
“It is of no trouble. I very well could not leave you both in there to get trampled.” He said with a little shrug, the grin never leaving his face as he turned then to greet the other man that was with them, his greetings to his friend done and over with.
“I apologize, how rude of me.” He said, realizing he had sort of ignored the other man when he had realized it was Myrrine that stood in front of him.
“Thrasius of Aetaea.” He introduced himself, giving a little bow. He had no idea who this man was, if he was a noble or not. He seemed a bit too well dressed for most commoners, but he couldn’t be quite sure. He assumed the man would present him with a title when he introduced himself in turn.
“It looks like those men have the animals dealt with.” He said, peering over the heads of the crowd as best as he could to see that things were starting to settle, and two men on horseback seemed to have stopped the rampage of the donkeys before they were able to light the city on fire.
“What do you suppose happened? It is not normal for a group of donkeys to go running through the city streets, is it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. Perhaps it had been part of the ceremony that had gone wrong or something. Maybe they had some unique way of worshipping their gods. He wasn’t one to judge, he was just glad that it didn’t seem like anyone sustained any major injuries during the incident, as the crowds started settling it seemed like mostly people had sustained a few small bumps and bruises.
He turned his attention from the crowds and back to the two people with him
“And here I thought I would be enjoying a calm day with some good food.” He said with a little laugh, finding the humour in the whole situation.
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Thrasius was glad when they made it out of the crowds as the worst of the panic really started to set in, they were off to the side, tucked away where no one was really gathered and no one seemed to really notice them. The space was nice, as much as Thrasius liked people and being out, it started getting a bit overwhelming when they were pushing and shoving. Especially for a man with an injured leg who likely could be shoved over if the crowds got a bit too rowdy. The other two seemed thankful as well, and he opened his mouth to start introducing himself when he recognized the woman, at about the same time that she recognized him.
A grin broke out across his face at the recognition, despite the slight injury she seemed to have sustained. It could have been worse.
“Myrrine!” he declared excitedly, truly happy to see her again. He stepped forward and pulled her into a big bear hug, lifting her off the ground for a moment before setting her down. He reached into one of the small pouches at his belt and handed her a clean piece of cloth so that she could use it to clean the blood up off her lip.
“It is of no trouble. I very well could not leave you both in there to get trampled.” He said with a little shrug, the grin never leaving his face as he turned then to greet the other man that was with them, his greetings to his friend done and over with.
“I apologize, how rude of me.” He said, realizing he had sort of ignored the other man when he had realized it was Myrrine that stood in front of him.
“Thrasius of Aetaea.” He introduced himself, giving a little bow. He had no idea who this man was, if he was a noble or not. He seemed a bit too well dressed for most commoners, but he couldn’t be quite sure. He assumed the man would present him with a title when he introduced himself in turn.
“It looks like those men have the animals dealt with.” He said, peering over the heads of the crowd as best as he could to see that things were starting to settle, and two men on horseback seemed to have stopped the rampage of the donkeys before they were able to light the city on fire.
“What do you suppose happened? It is not normal for a group of donkeys to go running through the city streets, is it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. Perhaps it had been part of the ceremony that had gone wrong or something. Maybe they had some unique way of worshipping their gods. He wasn’t one to judge, he was just glad that it didn’t seem like anyone sustained any major injuries during the incident, as the crowds started settling it seemed like mostly people had sustained a few small bumps and bruises.
He turned his attention from the crowds and back to the two people with him
“And here I thought I would be enjoying a calm day with some good food.” He said with a little laugh, finding the humour in the whole situation.
Thrasius was glad when they made it out of the crowds as the worst of the panic really started to set in, they were off to the side, tucked away where no one was really gathered and no one seemed to really notice them. The space was nice, as much as Thrasius liked people and being out, it started getting a bit overwhelming when they were pushing and shoving. Especially for a man with an injured leg who likely could be shoved over if the crowds got a bit too rowdy. The other two seemed thankful as well, and he opened his mouth to start introducing himself when he recognized the woman, at about the same time that she recognized him.
A grin broke out across his face at the recognition, despite the slight injury she seemed to have sustained. It could have been worse.
“Myrrine!” he declared excitedly, truly happy to see her again. He stepped forward and pulled her into a big bear hug, lifting her off the ground for a moment before setting her down. He reached into one of the small pouches at his belt and handed her a clean piece of cloth so that she could use it to clean the blood up off her lip.
“It is of no trouble. I very well could not leave you both in there to get trampled.” He said with a little shrug, the grin never leaving his face as he turned then to greet the other man that was with them, his greetings to his friend done and over with.
“I apologize, how rude of me.” He said, realizing he had sort of ignored the other man when he had realized it was Myrrine that stood in front of him.
“Thrasius of Aetaea.” He introduced himself, giving a little bow. He had no idea who this man was, if he was a noble or not. He seemed a bit too well dressed for most commoners, but he couldn’t be quite sure. He assumed the man would present him with a title when he introduced himself in turn.
“It looks like those men have the animals dealt with.” He said, peering over the heads of the crowd as best as he could to see that things were starting to settle, and two men on horseback seemed to have stopped the rampage of the donkeys before they were able to light the city on fire.
“What do you suppose happened? It is not normal for a group of donkeys to go running through the city streets, is it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. Perhaps it had been part of the ceremony that had gone wrong or something. Maybe they had some unique way of worshipping their gods. He wasn’t one to judge, he was just glad that it didn’t seem like anyone sustained any major injuries during the incident, as the crowds started settling it seemed like mostly people had sustained a few small bumps and bruises.
He turned his attention from the crowds and back to the two people with him
“And here I thought I would be enjoying a calm day with some good food.” He said with a little laugh, finding the humour in the whole situation.
Despite the din created by a combination of both galloping asses in a frenzy, people celebrating a God, and the general chaos of people finally realizing they were about to be trampled by donkeys, Nike still did a victory punch in the air when Vangelis caught on to her unsaid and unspoken plan, and caught the lassoed end of the rope she had managed to knot, however messy it had been. In this situation, it would be whatever works, at this rate.
Dropping the remaining length of the rope as Vangelis wound it around his hands, the woman's steps began to slow down - she couldn't keep running to catch up with the donkeys as well as the men on horseback now could she? She afterall had only two legs to the animal's four - the woman Commander could only watch as her General caught the attention of Maleos on the other side of the crush of animal and human alike.
As slowed her steps, the woman winced as she saw the first flank of donkeys trip over the rope that had been pulled taut by Maleos and Vangelis, enough for the remaining galloping hord of frenzied asses to slow down and stop once they realized if they continued they would be tripping over their own brethren. The loud braying had first went up, wrenching through the air, but as the donkeys slowed to an eventual stop, what was left was the loud stamping of the harassed animals, and it was at this point that Nike finally could run up, giving Maleos a wry grin before turning to watch as he addressed the two men to get the donkeys in control.
Turning her gaze to look at how close the animals had come to the pyre's, the woman raised a brow, and then commented wryly, "Who decided to let their asses out for a run on a night like this?" Midas was built on rock and the mountainous region, but many houses within the city was roofed with dried thatches, not to mention the many barrels and crates made of wood on the harbor side. Should a fire start, it would surely be difficult to stop, and the damage done to the mines that was the source of Colchis's wealth would be insurmountable.
"I don't think the celebrations should be continued to be honest." Nike murmured finally, with a sideways look of caution at Maleos, turning her eyes to the unhappy eyes of the Hephaestus priests, who had now gathered again once the donkeys had been subdued. "They don't look too happy." The priests and followers of Ares had never been on great terms with the devout priests of the lame God, and Nike had a suspicion that was about to come to head, with her muscles tense and her hands already reaching for the dagger in her boot.
As if on cue, the one standing at the head punched a fist in the air, with a loud proclamation. "The followers of Ares are stealing our night - and now they wish to set fire to our celebrations. I say revenge must be taken!"
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Despite the din created by a combination of both galloping asses in a frenzy, people celebrating a God, and the general chaos of people finally realizing they were about to be trampled by donkeys, Nike still did a victory punch in the air when Vangelis caught on to her unsaid and unspoken plan, and caught the lassoed end of the rope she had managed to knot, however messy it had been. In this situation, it would be whatever works, at this rate.
Dropping the remaining length of the rope as Vangelis wound it around his hands, the woman's steps began to slow down - she couldn't keep running to catch up with the donkeys as well as the men on horseback now could she? She afterall had only two legs to the animal's four - the woman Commander could only watch as her General caught the attention of Maleos on the other side of the crush of animal and human alike.
As slowed her steps, the woman winced as she saw the first flank of donkeys trip over the rope that had been pulled taut by Maleos and Vangelis, enough for the remaining galloping hord of frenzied asses to slow down and stop once they realized if they continued they would be tripping over their own brethren. The loud braying had first went up, wrenching through the air, but as the donkeys slowed to an eventual stop, what was left was the loud stamping of the harassed animals, and it was at this point that Nike finally could run up, giving Maleos a wry grin before turning to watch as he addressed the two men to get the donkeys in control.
Turning her gaze to look at how close the animals had come to the pyre's, the woman raised a brow, and then commented wryly, "Who decided to let their asses out for a run on a night like this?" Midas was built on rock and the mountainous region, but many houses within the city was roofed with dried thatches, not to mention the many barrels and crates made of wood on the harbor side. Should a fire start, it would surely be difficult to stop, and the damage done to the mines that was the source of Colchis's wealth would be insurmountable.
"I don't think the celebrations should be continued to be honest." Nike murmured finally, with a sideways look of caution at Maleos, turning her eyes to the unhappy eyes of the Hephaestus priests, who had now gathered again once the donkeys had been subdued. "They don't look too happy." The priests and followers of Ares had never been on great terms with the devout priests of the lame God, and Nike had a suspicion that was about to come to head, with her muscles tense and her hands already reaching for the dagger in her boot.
As if on cue, the one standing at the head punched a fist in the air, with a loud proclamation. "The followers of Ares are stealing our night - and now they wish to set fire to our celebrations. I say revenge must be taken!"
Despite the din created by a combination of both galloping asses in a frenzy, people celebrating a God, and the general chaos of people finally realizing they were about to be trampled by donkeys, Nike still did a victory punch in the air when Vangelis caught on to her unsaid and unspoken plan, and caught the lassoed end of the rope she had managed to knot, however messy it had been. In this situation, it would be whatever works, at this rate.
Dropping the remaining length of the rope as Vangelis wound it around his hands, the woman's steps began to slow down - she couldn't keep running to catch up with the donkeys as well as the men on horseback now could she? She afterall had only two legs to the animal's four - the woman Commander could only watch as her General caught the attention of Maleos on the other side of the crush of animal and human alike.
As slowed her steps, the woman winced as she saw the first flank of donkeys trip over the rope that had been pulled taut by Maleos and Vangelis, enough for the remaining galloping hord of frenzied asses to slow down and stop once they realized if they continued they would be tripping over their own brethren. The loud braying had first went up, wrenching through the air, but as the donkeys slowed to an eventual stop, what was left was the loud stamping of the harassed animals, and it was at this point that Nike finally could run up, giving Maleos a wry grin before turning to watch as he addressed the two men to get the donkeys in control.
Turning her gaze to look at how close the animals had come to the pyre's, the woman raised a brow, and then commented wryly, "Who decided to let their asses out for a run on a night like this?" Midas was built on rock and the mountainous region, but many houses within the city was roofed with dried thatches, not to mention the many barrels and crates made of wood on the harbor side. Should a fire start, it would surely be difficult to stop, and the damage done to the mines that was the source of Colchis's wealth would be insurmountable.
"I don't think the celebrations should be continued to be honest." Nike murmured finally, with a sideways look of caution at Maleos, turning her eyes to the unhappy eyes of the Hephaestus priests, who had now gathered again once the donkeys had been subdued. "They don't look too happy." The priests and followers of Ares had never been on great terms with the devout priests of the lame God, and Nike had a suspicion that was about to come to head, with her muscles tense and her hands already reaching for the dagger in her boot.
As if on cue, the one standing at the head punched a fist in the air, with a loud proclamation. "The followers of Ares are stealing our night - and now they wish to set fire to our celebrations. I say revenge must be taken!"
A man whose career thrived on getting to know more people, Magnus was not at all aversed to getting to know someone knew, and smiled when he saw Myrrine apparently already was acquainted with this new man who had somehow waded to them in the midst of all the mess between the celebrations of Hephaestus and Ares all in one night. However, the gentleman that he was, the man merely allowed their long lost greetings to be exchanged first, before finally giving a respectful nod when the newcomer introduced himself.
"You're a tad far from home aren't you." Magnus noted with amusement, automatically curious. It was part of his nature, and why he had gone so far in his career, but the man went on autopilot to find out the reasons behind everyone's life as it was in that point, and while Thrasius wasn't exactly someone suspected to have done wrong, Magnus just naturally wanted to know more - although, since they had just met, he knew to rein it in for now, and merely masked it as friendly pleasantries.
"Magnus of Chaossis." he returned finally, turning to Myrrine with a wave of his hand. The thanks was unnecessary, as he had a feeling Leto would have his head had he not extended the help to her friend. Besides, what Master Informer would he be, if he left a damsel just stuck in trouble? "Just don't wander out alone next time - at least bring a friend. Although, it seems as if you've met one here already."
Looking up when Thrasius mentioned the men handling the donkeys, Magnus quickly recognized the crown prince and his bodyguard, two figures he often saw in his business dealings with the royal family, along with another military man he knew to be called Maleos, of Eubocris origin, but still retaining the title of Captain, although he had a feeling that would change in a few years. The man had a good reputation, and was a hard worker to boot, so Magnus wouldn't be surprise if Vangelis would see good favor upon him soon.
"A loose bolt, a farmer who forgot the celebrations taking place tonight.... any number of reasons, really. It's what tends to happen occasionally in a city so large, I would think." Magnus mused, but even as he did, he couldn't help but remember how his informers had told him the priests of Ares had deliberately planned their celebrations on a night that coincided with the ones planned by Hephaestus. It had been no secret that the priests of Hephaestus had planned to erect the fire pyre right in the middle of the Agora Plateia, and Magnus wouldn't be at all surprised if that had been the intention of the donkeys.
And true enough to his suspicions, almost in the next second, the Hephaestus priests started a rowdy call for revenge after being led by their head priest, all trying to wade their way through the crowd to head to the temple of Ares where the rest of the Ares followers and priests would be. "Things are likely going to get ugly. Sir Thrasius, would you mind escorting young Myrrine to safer grounds? Perhaps home, would be a good choice." he murmured, and with another respectful smile, Magnus quickly weaved his way through the crowd to seek the crown prince, and tell him the plans of the Ares followers he's heard of, earlier in the day.
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A man whose career thrived on getting to know more people, Magnus was not at all aversed to getting to know someone knew, and smiled when he saw Myrrine apparently already was acquainted with this new man who had somehow waded to them in the midst of all the mess between the celebrations of Hephaestus and Ares all in one night. However, the gentleman that he was, the man merely allowed their long lost greetings to be exchanged first, before finally giving a respectful nod when the newcomer introduced himself.
"You're a tad far from home aren't you." Magnus noted with amusement, automatically curious. It was part of his nature, and why he had gone so far in his career, but the man went on autopilot to find out the reasons behind everyone's life as it was in that point, and while Thrasius wasn't exactly someone suspected to have done wrong, Magnus just naturally wanted to know more - although, since they had just met, he knew to rein it in for now, and merely masked it as friendly pleasantries.
"Magnus of Chaossis." he returned finally, turning to Myrrine with a wave of his hand. The thanks was unnecessary, as he had a feeling Leto would have his head had he not extended the help to her friend. Besides, what Master Informer would he be, if he left a damsel just stuck in trouble? "Just don't wander out alone next time - at least bring a friend. Although, it seems as if you've met one here already."
Looking up when Thrasius mentioned the men handling the donkeys, Magnus quickly recognized the crown prince and his bodyguard, two figures he often saw in his business dealings with the royal family, along with another military man he knew to be called Maleos, of Eubocris origin, but still retaining the title of Captain, although he had a feeling that would change in a few years. The man had a good reputation, and was a hard worker to boot, so Magnus wouldn't be surprise if Vangelis would see good favor upon him soon.
"A loose bolt, a farmer who forgot the celebrations taking place tonight.... any number of reasons, really. It's what tends to happen occasionally in a city so large, I would think." Magnus mused, but even as he did, he couldn't help but remember how his informers had told him the priests of Ares had deliberately planned their celebrations on a night that coincided with the ones planned by Hephaestus. It had been no secret that the priests of Hephaestus had planned to erect the fire pyre right in the middle of the Agora Plateia, and Magnus wouldn't be at all surprised if that had been the intention of the donkeys.
And true enough to his suspicions, almost in the next second, the Hephaestus priests started a rowdy call for revenge after being led by their head priest, all trying to wade their way through the crowd to head to the temple of Ares where the rest of the Ares followers and priests would be. "Things are likely going to get ugly. Sir Thrasius, would you mind escorting young Myrrine to safer grounds? Perhaps home, would be a good choice." he murmured, and with another respectful smile, Magnus quickly weaved his way through the crowd to seek the crown prince, and tell him the plans of the Ares followers he's heard of, earlier in the day.
A man whose career thrived on getting to know more people, Magnus was not at all aversed to getting to know someone knew, and smiled when he saw Myrrine apparently already was acquainted with this new man who had somehow waded to them in the midst of all the mess between the celebrations of Hephaestus and Ares all in one night. However, the gentleman that he was, the man merely allowed their long lost greetings to be exchanged first, before finally giving a respectful nod when the newcomer introduced himself.
"You're a tad far from home aren't you." Magnus noted with amusement, automatically curious. It was part of his nature, and why he had gone so far in his career, but the man went on autopilot to find out the reasons behind everyone's life as it was in that point, and while Thrasius wasn't exactly someone suspected to have done wrong, Magnus just naturally wanted to know more - although, since they had just met, he knew to rein it in for now, and merely masked it as friendly pleasantries.
"Magnus of Chaossis." he returned finally, turning to Myrrine with a wave of his hand. The thanks was unnecessary, as he had a feeling Leto would have his head had he not extended the help to her friend. Besides, what Master Informer would he be, if he left a damsel just stuck in trouble? "Just don't wander out alone next time - at least bring a friend. Although, it seems as if you've met one here already."
Looking up when Thrasius mentioned the men handling the donkeys, Magnus quickly recognized the crown prince and his bodyguard, two figures he often saw in his business dealings with the royal family, along with another military man he knew to be called Maleos, of Eubocris origin, but still retaining the title of Captain, although he had a feeling that would change in a few years. The man had a good reputation, and was a hard worker to boot, so Magnus wouldn't be surprise if Vangelis would see good favor upon him soon.
"A loose bolt, a farmer who forgot the celebrations taking place tonight.... any number of reasons, really. It's what tends to happen occasionally in a city so large, I would think." Magnus mused, but even as he did, he couldn't help but remember how his informers had told him the priests of Ares had deliberately planned their celebrations on a night that coincided with the ones planned by Hephaestus. It had been no secret that the priests of Hephaestus had planned to erect the fire pyre right in the middle of the Agora Plateia, and Magnus wouldn't be at all surprised if that had been the intention of the donkeys.
And true enough to his suspicions, almost in the next second, the Hephaestus priests started a rowdy call for revenge after being led by their head priest, all trying to wade their way through the crowd to head to the temple of Ares where the rest of the Ares followers and priests would be. "Things are likely going to get ugly. Sir Thrasius, would you mind escorting young Myrrine to safer grounds? Perhaps home, would be a good choice." he murmured, and with another respectful smile, Magnus quickly weaved his way through the crowd to seek the crown prince, and tell him the plans of the Ares followers he's heard of, earlier in the day.
It was testament to the military training of Colchis that Vangelis and Maleos played their parts with a unified image of how they should ensure the safety of the people. Whilst some might have claimed strange psychic affinity or the divine intervention of the Gods, in truth, the reasons behind such actions were probably far less spectacular than rumours over the next weeks were likely to declare. Vangelis had been trained by his father and had in turn learned and worked alongside Timaeus of Valaoritis. Timaeus was the baron and leader of his people in Eubocris and it was to him that Maleos deferred. When a kingdom was divided provincially and the leaders of each held an independent military leader there were natural clashes in training and tactical preparation. But when the monarch of a kingdom was also the head of all militia - a fighter in and of himself and the nucleus from which all other advanced skill and expectations of bravery originated... It ensured that the men that followed beneath were taught to think and behave in similar manners. Perhaps this was the secret to why the Colchian military forces were always well organised and well structured. Why they could fight and act as a single force regardless of which provincial units have been summoned to work in tandem, shoulder to shoulder. Regardless, it was perhaps the reason now why two men who had only fought together on a few battlefields came to the same conclusions as to how to slow the animals that ran a rampage down the streets of the capitol.
As a singular unit, the two of them, with an end of the long rope in either hand, were able to throw the piece forward and secure it around the necks and chests of that first row of donkeys that led the herd mentality of the creatures. Several were pulled up short, but one was taller and the rope caught upon his upturned front leg, sending him down to the ground. The stumble and yank upon the rope, pulled tight by its weight had the strand pulled through the hands of both prince and soldier. Where it tore open the hand of Maleos, Vangelis had ridden with free reins. Both his hands upon the rope - the length wrapped around the palm of one as an anchor and then held on the other - the tug was eased across the two. It didn't draw blood, but the friction was hot and he suspected he would have welts across the back of one hand the palms of both. It also forced him to almost lose his seat upon Windrunner, but the animal stayed true and Vangelis held on with his thighs. Pulled to an angle, his grip wasn't so good but he remained in his saddle just enough to turn the creature and begin to ride in the opposite direction, looping the rope out and around the herd.
Losing side of Maleos but knowing he still held the other end of the rope as it had not fallen loose, Vangelis tried to tie off the creatures but several of the animals, bucked and reared in fright and confusion over what was happening. Some of their brethren had fallen, others had scraped their hooves upon the ground and been wounded in the chest with a heavy tug of rope. Others were braying with fear. Whilst none of them were able to alter their course properly and they came to a grinding halt in a little group, it didn't stop them from shifting and undulating in aggressive kicks, their ears back and their eyes wide with confusion.
It took several minutes for them to calm down, by which point, one of the asses had already launched a back kick at Windrunner and sent the gelding rearing on its hind legs.
Normally a rider that could cope with the bucking and rearing of an animal, this situation was less clear. And with his hands no longer holding onto the reins and his seat unsettled and at the wrong angle on his ride's back, Vangelis lost his balance all together, fell from Windrunner's back and was lost in the crowd.
Having attempted to hold onto the rope and keep the creatures detained, avoid the hooves of his own horse and that of donkeys and protect his own fall, Vangelis missed the latter and lost the rest as his back hit one of the buildings at the side of the street and his head collided with the jagged step of its front door. One of his hands bent painfully at the wrist as he tried to break his fall whilst holding onto the rope, and as his temple hit that step everything went black and he loosed his fingers on the piece anyway.
He was out cold on the steps of a poor resident home, a trickle of blood working its way down his temple and his hands rubbed raw, before the priests even started calling for more violence...
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It was testament to the military training of Colchis that Vangelis and Maleos played their parts with a unified image of how they should ensure the safety of the people. Whilst some might have claimed strange psychic affinity or the divine intervention of the Gods, in truth, the reasons behind such actions were probably far less spectacular than rumours over the next weeks were likely to declare. Vangelis had been trained by his father and had in turn learned and worked alongside Timaeus of Valaoritis. Timaeus was the baron and leader of his people in Eubocris and it was to him that Maleos deferred. When a kingdom was divided provincially and the leaders of each held an independent military leader there were natural clashes in training and tactical preparation. But when the monarch of a kingdom was also the head of all militia - a fighter in and of himself and the nucleus from which all other advanced skill and expectations of bravery originated... It ensured that the men that followed beneath were taught to think and behave in similar manners. Perhaps this was the secret to why the Colchian military forces were always well organised and well structured. Why they could fight and act as a single force regardless of which provincial units have been summoned to work in tandem, shoulder to shoulder. Regardless, it was perhaps the reason now why two men who had only fought together on a few battlefields came to the same conclusions as to how to slow the animals that ran a rampage down the streets of the capitol.
As a singular unit, the two of them, with an end of the long rope in either hand, were able to throw the piece forward and secure it around the necks and chests of that first row of donkeys that led the herd mentality of the creatures. Several were pulled up short, but one was taller and the rope caught upon his upturned front leg, sending him down to the ground. The stumble and yank upon the rope, pulled tight by its weight had the strand pulled through the hands of both prince and soldier. Where it tore open the hand of Maleos, Vangelis had ridden with free reins. Both his hands upon the rope - the length wrapped around the palm of one as an anchor and then held on the other - the tug was eased across the two. It didn't draw blood, but the friction was hot and he suspected he would have welts across the back of one hand the palms of both. It also forced him to almost lose his seat upon Windrunner, but the animal stayed true and Vangelis held on with his thighs. Pulled to an angle, his grip wasn't so good but he remained in his saddle just enough to turn the creature and begin to ride in the opposite direction, looping the rope out and around the herd.
Losing side of Maleos but knowing he still held the other end of the rope as it had not fallen loose, Vangelis tried to tie off the creatures but several of the animals, bucked and reared in fright and confusion over what was happening. Some of their brethren had fallen, others had scraped their hooves upon the ground and been wounded in the chest with a heavy tug of rope. Others were braying with fear. Whilst none of them were able to alter their course properly and they came to a grinding halt in a little group, it didn't stop them from shifting and undulating in aggressive kicks, their ears back and their eyes wide with confusion.
It took several minutes for them to calm down, by which point, one of the asses had already launched a back kick at Windrunner and sent the gelding rearing on its hind legs.
Normally a rider that could cope with the bucking and rearing of an animal, this situation was less clear. And with his hands no longer holding onto the reins and his seat unsettled and at the wrong angle on his ride's back, Vangelis lost his balance all together, fell from Windrunner's back and was lost in the crowd.
Having attempted to hold onto the rope and keep the creatures detained, avoid the hooves of his own horse and that of donkeys and protect his own fall, Vangelis missed the latter and lost the rest as his back hit one of the buildings at the side of the street and his head collided with the jagged step of its front door. One of his hands bent painfully at the wrist as he tried to break his fall whilst holding onto the rope, and as his temple hit that step everything went black and he loosed his fingers on the piece anyway.
He was out cold on the steps of a poor resident home, a trickle of blood working its way down his temple and his hands rubbed raw, before the priests even started calling for more violence...
It was testament to the military training of Colchis that Vangelis and Maleos played their parts with a unified image of how they should ensure the safety of the people. Whilst some might have claimed strange psychic affinity or the divine intervention of the Gods, in truth, the reasons behind such actions were probably far less spectacular than rumours over the next weeks were likely to declare. Vangelis had been trained by his father and had in turn learned and worked alongside Timaeus of Valaoritis. Timaeus was the baron and leader of his people in Eubocris and it was to him that Maleos deferred. When a kingdom was divided provincially and the leaders of each held an independent military leader there were natural clashes in training and tactical preparation. But when the monarch of a kingdom was also the head of all militia - a fighter in and of himself and the nucleus from which all other advanced skill and expectations of bravery originated... It ensured that the men that followed beneath were taught to think and behave in similar manners. Perhaps this was the secret to why the Colchian military forces were always well organised and well structured. Why they could fight and act as a single force regardless of which provincial units have been summoned to work in tandem, shoulder to shoulder. Regardless, it was perhaps the reason now why two men who had only fought together on a few battlefields came to the same conclusions as to how to slow the animals that ran a rampage down the streets of the capitol.
As a singular unit, the two of them, with an end of the long rope in either hand, were able to throw the piece forward and secure it around the necks and chests of that first row of donkeys that led the herd mentality of the creatures. Several were pulled up short, but one was taller and the rope caught upon his upturned front leg, sending him down to the ground. The stumble and yank upon the rope, pulled tight by its weight had the strand pulled through the hands of both prince and soldier. Where it tore open the hand of Maleos, Vangelis had ridden with free reins. Both his hands upon the rope - the length wrapped around the palm of one as an anchor and then held on the other - the tug was eased across the two. It didn't draw blood, but the friction was hot and he suspected he would have welts across the back of one hand the palms of both. It also forced him to almost lose his seat upon Windrunner, but the animal stayed true and Vangelis held on with his thighs. Pulled to an angle, his grip wasn't so good but he remained in his saddle just enough to turn the creature and begin to ride in the opposite direction, looping the rope out and around the herd.
Losing side of Maleos but knowing he still held the other end of the rope as it had not fallen loose, Vangelis tried to tie off the creatures but several of the animals, bucked and reared in fright and confusion over what was happening. Some of their brethren had fallen, others had scraped their hooves upon the ground and been wounded in the chest with a heavy tug of rope. Others were braying with fear. Whilst none of them were able to alter their course properly and they came to a grinding halt in a little group, it didn't stop them from shifting and undulating in aggressive kicks, their ears back and their eyes wide with confusion.
It took several minutes for them to calm down, by which point, one of the asses had already launched a back kick at Windrunner and sent the gelding rearing on its hind legs.
Normally a rider that could cope with the bucking and rearing of an animal, this situation was less clear. And with his hands no longer holding onto the reins and his seat unsettled and at the wrong angle on his ride's back, Vangelis lost his balance all together, fell from Windrunner's back and was lost in the crowd.
Having attempted to hold onto the rope and keep the creatures detained, avoid the hooves of his own horse and that of donkeys and protect his own fall, Vangelis missed the latter and lost the rest as his back hit one of the buildings at the side of the street and his head collided with the jagged step of its front door. One of his hands bent painfully at the wrist as he tried to break his fall whilst holding onto the rope, and as his temple hit that step everything went black and he loosed his fingers on the piece anyway.
He was out cold on the steps of a poor resident home, a trickle of blood working its way down his temple and his hands rubbed raw, before the priests even started calling for more violence...
Amongst all the furor of the people again entirely unhappy about the situation, Nike huffed in frustration as the followers of Hephaestus tried to march forward. Their anger and unrest could be felt by the asses, who already subdued, now started shifting uneasily again, bucking and going against the rope which held them as it suddenly went slack. Nike frowned, and then instinctively looked up to find what the hell Vangelis was doing with his end of the rope - only to widened her eyes when she saw the empty rider seat of Windrunner, as the steed she had always known to be Vangelis's running in the crowd.
"What in Hades hell... Maleos, get those people calm or the donkey's are going to have a field day!"
Her voice was short and snippy, although not rude. It was just the tone she always wore once she switched full on as a Commander, a woman entirely task oriented she really didn't care who she may or may not have accidentally insulted, as long as she got the task done and her point across.
Grabbing the rope from his hands, she tossed it a few of his subordinates from Maleos's unit, before swimming through the throngs of people to find where the hell had Vangelis went. Knowing her general, she knew he wasn't the type to just up and leave, so Nike knew by instinct that something had happened, or his gelding wouldn't just be prancing around for no reason.
With brute force (or as much as she could muster), the woman shoved her way across panicking commoners, rioting Hephaestus followers, and her facial features hardened when she saw the slack hands of a general she knew far too well with a rope slipping out of the gripless palms - just as Magnus came walking up. She's seen the Master Informer a few times, but they have never had any capacity to be working closely with each other, save for a few times Vangelis had had meetings with the man and she had been present as his bodyguard. But be that as it may, the two knew each other at least, and as she managed to grab the rope as it was being flayed by the donkeys, and tossed it at him.
Magnus may not be known for his body strength, but she had more important matters to tend to.
With a quick and curt word for him to hold it until more help arrived (because Magnus would likely lose his hold on it very soon), the woman rushed to Vangelis's prone form, grumbling as she ripped off the bottom part of her shirt and got her hands bloody as she ran her hands around his head until she found the source of the blood. Pressing the fisted up piece of cloth against where the blood trickled, the woman did a quick study of his hulking body - and then quickly decided there was no way she could even carry him.
So instead, Nike grabbed the edge of his outfit, half-dragging him across the streets as she loudly yelled at everyone to get out of the way. She needed to go back and help Maleos and the rest of the City Guards to quiet down the rioters, but the least she could do now was get the crown prince away from the imminent danger of being trampled, right?
With much effort, the woman was sweating by the time she got the heavy and unconcious body of Vangelis leaning against the home of the poor resident whose step he had stained with blood, still pressing the cloth against his temple as she grabbed a nearby scoop from a barrel of rainwater, splashing it against his face. "Wake up or you're going to turn into flatbread, Vangelis. Now isn't the time to be sleeping!" she more or less growled in his face, her eyes turning wildly around and yelling at the nearest able-looking man she could find. "You! Get that gelding!"
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Amongst all the furor of the people again entirely unhappy about the situation, Nike huffed in frustration as the followers of Hephaestus tried to march forward. Their anger and unrest could be felt by the asses, who already subdued, now started shifting uneasily again, bucking and going against the rope which held them as it suddenly went slack. Nike frowned, and then instinctively looked up to find what the hell Vangelis was doing with his end of the rope - only to widened her eyes when she saw the empty rider seat of Windrunner, as the steed she had always known to be Vangelis's running in the crowd.
"What in Hades hell... Maleos, get those people calm or the donkey's are going to have a field day!"
Her voice was short and snippy, although not rude. It was just the tone she always wore once she switched full on as a Commander, a woman entirely task oriented she really didn't care who she may or may not have accidentally insulted, as long as she got the task done and her point across.
Grabbing the rope from his hands, she tossed it a few of his subordinates from Maleos's unit, before swimming through the throngs of people to find where the hell had Vangelis went. Knowing her general, she knew he wasn't the type to just up and leave, so Nike knew by instinct that something had happened, or his gelding wouldn't just be prancing around for no reason.
With brute force (or as much as she could muster), the woman shoved her way across panicking commoners, rioting Hephaestus followers, and her facial features hardened when she saw the slack hands of a general she knew far too well with a rope slipping out of the gripless palms - just as Magnus came walking up. She's seen the Master Informer a few times, but they have never had any capacity to be working closely with each other, save for a few times Vangelis had had meetings with the man and she had been present as his bodyguard. But be that as it may, the two knew each other at least, and as she managed to grab the rope as it was being flayed by the donkeys, and tossed it at him.
Magnus may not be known for his body strength, but she had more important matters to tend to.
With a quick and curt word for him to hold it until more help arrived (because Magnus would likely lose his hold on it very soon), the woman rushed to Vangelis's prone form, grumbling as she ripped off the bottom part of her shirt and got her hands bloody as she ran her hands around his head until she found the source of the blood. Pressing the fisted up piece of cloth against where the blood trickled, the woman did a quick study of his hulking body - and then quickly decided there was no way she could even carry him.
So instead, Nike grabbed the edge of his outfit, half-dragging him across the streets as she loudly yelled at everyone to get out of the way. She needed to go back and help Maleos and the rest of the City Guards to quiet down the rioters, but the least she could do now was get the crown prince away from the imminent danger of being trampled, right?
With much effort, the woman was sweating by the time she got the heavy and unconcious body of Vangelis leaning against the home of the poor resident whose step he had stained with blood, still pressing the cloth against his temple as she grabbed a nearby scoop from a barrel of rainwater, splashing it against his face. "Wake up or you're going to turn into flatbread, Vangelis. Now isn't the time to be sleeping!" she more or less growled in his face, her eyes turning wildly around and yelling at the nearest able-looking man she could find. "You! Get that gelding!"
Amongst all the furor of the people again entirely unhappy about the situation, Nike huffed in frustration as the followers of Hephaestus tried to march forward. Their anger and unrest could be felt by the asses, who already subdued, now started shifting uneasily again, bucking and going against the rope which held them as it suddenly went slack. Nike frowned, and then instinctively looked up to find what the hell Vangelis was doing with his end of the rope - only to widened her eyes when she saw the empty rider seat of Windrunner, as the steed she had always known to be Vangelis's running in the crowd.
"What in Hades hell... Maleos, get those people calm or the donkey's are going to have a field day!"
Her voice was short and snippy, although not rude. It was just the tone she always wore once she switched full on as a Commander, a woman entirely task oriented she really didn't care who she may or may not have accidentally insulted, as long as she got the task done and her point across.
Grabbing the rope from his hands, she tossed it a few of his subordinates from Maleos's unit, before swimming through the throngs of people to find where the hell had Vangelis went. Knowing her general, she knew he wasn't the type to just up and leave, so Nike knew by instinct that something had happened, or his gelding wouldn't just be prancing around for no reason.
With brute force (or as much as she could muster), the woman shoved her way across panicking commoners, rioting Hephaestus followers, and her facial features hardened when she saw the slack hands of a general she knew far too well with a rope slipping out of the gripless palms - just as Magnus came walking up. She's seen the Master Informer a few times, but they have never had any capacity to be working closely with each other, save for a few times Vangelis had had meetings with the man and she had been present as his bodyguard. But be that as it may, the two knew each other at least, and as she managed to grab the rope as it was being flayed by the donkeys, and tossed it at him.
Magnus may not be known for his body strength, but she had more important matters to tend to.
With a quick and curt word for him to hold it until more help arrived (because Magnus would likely lose his hold on it very soon), the woman rushed to Vangelis's prone form, grumbling as she ripped off the bottom part of her shirt and got her hands bloody as she ran her hands around his head until she found the source of the blood. Pressing the fisted up piece of cloth against where the blood trickled, the woman did a quick study of his hulking body - and then quickly decided there was no way she could even carry him.
So instead, Nike grabbed the edge of his outfit, half-dragging him across the streets as she loudly yelled at everyone to get out of the way. She needed to go back and help Maleos and the rest of the City Guards to quiet down the rioters, but the least she could do now was get the crown prince away from the imminent danger of being trampled, right?
With much effort, the woman was sweating by the time she got the heavy and unconcious body of Vangelis leaning against the home of the poor resident whose step he had stained with blood, still pressing the cloth against his temple as she grabbed a nearby scoop from a barrel of rainwater, splashing it against his face. "Wake up or you're going to turn into flatbread, Vangelis. Now isn't the time to be sleeping!" she more or less growled in his face, her eyes turning wildly around and yelling at the nearest able-looking man she could find. "You! Get that gelding!"
With the commotion of everything, Thras wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but he could feel the energy of the crowd shift as people started getting angry over the events, blaming each other for the stampeding donkeys without any proof of anyone being involved. For all they knew, this was a simple accident or a case of the donkeys getting spooked and just taking off, with no fault from anyone. But the tensions of the day had already been high, and this just caused that divide to pull apart further.
He had a thought to get Myrrine out of there, and Magnus too if the man wished to leave, but before he could voice such things, he was being yelled at by some guy to grab a horse. He had no idea what horse he was supposed to be grabbing, but he saw a horse not tended by anyone and lead the animal over towards the two men, one of whom seemed to be knocked out currently.
“Is he okay?” He asked as he approached, figuring there wasn’t really a point in introducing himself quite yet, the blood coming from the others head seemed more important than his name in the moment. He wasn’t sure what exactly he could do in order to help, his medical knowledge was limited, and beyond what the man who had yelled was already doing, he had no idea how to help out.
He had brought the horse, and wasn’t sure what else was expected of him. So he shifted a little and turned his attention back to Myrrine. He wasn’t sure if he was still needed here, or if he could go and get Myrrine out before the crowds and violence got worse. The last thing he wanted was for his friend to get hurt if the crowds truly got rowdy.
“Is there anything further needed of me? I have a friend who is far too fragile to be involved in any of this, I need to escort her safely away from this. I fear violence is about to start, and women should not be in such a place if it does.” He said, worried for his friend, but not a mean enough person to just leave these two here. What if the man who had called for the horse needed assistance in hauling the unconscious man onto the horse?
He had a solution.
He hurried back to Myrrine quickly.
“Come, stay close to me and I will make sure to see you safely from here.” He said, taking her hand to lead her back over to the two men.
“Let us get him upon the horse, he should be taken from here as well, and to safety and calm where his wounds can be tended and he can rest.” He said, letting go of Myrrine’s hand but making sure to stick close in case something happened. He shifted forward, intending on helping to get the unconscious man up onto the horse so that they might all make their way from the situation.
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With the commotion of everything, Thras wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but he could feel the energy of the crowd shift as people started getting angry over the events, blaming each other for the stampeding donkeys without any proof of anyone being involved. For all they knew, this was a simple accident or a case of the donkeys getting spooked and just taking off, with no fault from anyone. But the tensions of the day had already been high, and this just caused that divide to pull apart further.
He had a thought to get Myrrine out of there, and Magnus too if the man wished to leave, but before he could voice such things, he was being yelled at by some guy to grab a horse. He had no idea what horse he was supposed to be grabbing, but he saw a horse not tended by anyone and lead the animal over towards the two men, one of whom seemed to be knocked out currently.
“Is he okay?” He asked as he approached, figuring there wasn’t really a point in introducing himself quite yet, the blood coming from the others head seemed more important than his name in the moment. He wasn’t sure what exactly he could do in order to help, his medical knowledge was limited, and beyond what the man who had yelled was already doing, he had no idea how to help out.
He had brought the horse, and wasn’t sure what else was expected of him. So he shifted a little and turned his attention back to Myrrine. He wasn’t sure if he was still needed here, or if he could go and get Myrrine out before the crowds and violence got worse. The last thing he wanted was for his friend to get hurt if the crowds truly got rowdy.
“Is there anything further needed of me? I have a friend who is far too fragile to be involved in any of this, I need to escort her safely away from this. I fear violence is about to start, and women should not be in such a place if it does.” He said, worried for his friend, but not a mean enough person to just leave these two here. What if the man who had called for the horse needed assistance in hauling the unconscious man onto the horse?
He had a solution.
He hurried back to Myrrine quickly.
“Come, stay close to me and I will make sure to see you safely from here.” He said, taking her hand to lead her back over to the two men.
“Let us get him upon the horse, he should be taken from here as well, and to safety and calm where his wounds can be tended and he can rest.” He said, letting go of Myrrine’s hand but making sure to stick close in case something happened. He shifted forward, intending on helping to get the unconscious man up onto the horse so that they might all make their way from the situation.
With the commotion of everything, Thras wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but he could feel the energy of the crowd shift as people started getting angry over the events, blaming each other for the stampeding donkeys without any proof of anyone being involved. For all they knew, this was a simple accident or a case of the donkeys getting spooked and just taking off, with no fault from anyone. But the tensions of the day had already been high, and this just caused that divide to pull apart further.
He had a thought to get Myrrine out of there, and Magnus too if the man wished to leave, but before he could voice such things, he was being yelled at by some guy to grab a horse. He had no idea what horse he was supposed to be grabbing, but he saw a horse not tended by anyone and lead the animal over towards the two men, one of whom seemed to be knocked out currently.
“Is he okay?” He asked as he approached, figuring there wasn’t really a point in introducing himself quite yet, the blood coming from the others head seemed more important than his name in the moment. He wasn’t sure what exactly he could do in order to help, his medical knowledge was limited, and beyond what the man who had yelled was already doing, he had no idea how to help out.
He had brought the horse, and wasn’t sure what else was expected of him. So he shifted a little and turned his attention back to Myrrine. He wasn’t sure if he was still needed here, or if he could go and get Myrrine out before the crowds and violence got worse. The last thing he wanted was for his friend to get hurt if the crowds truly got rowdy.
“Is there anything further needed of me? I have a friend who is far too fragile to be involved in any of this, I need to escort her safely away from this. I fear violence is about to start, and women should not be in such a place if it does.” He said, worried for his friend, but not a mean enough person to just leave these two here. What if the man who had called for the horse needed assistance in hauling the unconscious man onto the horse?
He had a solution.
He hurried back to Myrrine quickly.
“Come, stay close to me and I will make sure to see you safely from here.” He said, taking her hand to lead her back over to the two men.
“Let us get him upon the horse, he should be taken from here as well, and to safety and calm where his wounds can be tended and he can rest.” He said, letting go of Myrrine’s hand but making sure to stick close in case something happened. He shifted forward, intending on helping to get the unconscious man up onto the horse so that they might all make their way from the situation.
Maleos knew what Nike meant when she said that she didn’t think it should be continued, the two groups were tense as is, but he also didn’t think it was a good idea to try and stop them.
“If you think they are angry now, try telling them that they must stop the worship of their gods.” He said quietly to Nike. It was true, he knew how devout most of those in attendance could be, and if they fully tried to stop the celebrations, the crowds would be even angrier than they were now. They simply needed to find a way to calm everyone, to get them to finish their celebrations quickly and without further incident. Maleos had no idea how.
Maleos was too distracted with thoughts on how to calm the crowds that he didn’t even notice the Prince fall off his horse and hit his head, or he would have been rushing over to try and help. But as he was trying to think of ideas to calm things, he missed the entire thing happening.
This was not his forte, he did not know people well and he did not know what to say to them that might get them to return to their celebrations instead of causing a riot right then and there. He looked around, hoping that perhaps there would be someone around that could assist him in this. There had to be someone with some sort of authority around that could assist in calming the crowds. There was no way that this was something he could be expected to deal with on his own. Besides, most commoners had no idea who he was, they cared little for military Captains. He needed someone noble or royal, someone who would be recognized and listened to. And hopefully that person would have a plan of their own.
There was no one around, not that he could see at least. So he sighed and instead joined his lieutenants on damage control, seeking out each of the priests that were in charge of these celebrations and attempting to reason with them as to why it was their best bet to move back to their own temples and continue their celebrations from there. They were reasonable people he assumed, clearly they should be able to see that having a rioting crowd would be bad in so many ways.
Maleos just hoped that he had the words to convince them of such things. Words were his weak point, but he knew that he had to try. There didn’t seem to be anyone else that was going to. He vaguely wondered where the Prince had gone, if anyone should be trying to command and control the people, it should be him. But he did not have time to go and search and hope that he was going to be able to calm them. He needed to take action now, and so he began to make his way through the crowds to seek out the men that he needed to speak with from each temple.
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Maleos knew what Nike meant when she said that she didn’t think it should be continued, the two groups were tense as is, but he also didn’t think it was a good idea to try and stop them.
“If you think they are angry now, try telling them that they must stop the worship of their gods.” He said quietly to Nike. It was true, he knew how devout most of those in attendance could be, and if they fully tried to stop the celebrations, the crowds would be even angrier than they were now. They simply needed to find a way to calm everyone, to get them to finish their celebrations quickly and without further incident. Maleos had no idea how.
Maleos was too distracted with thoughts on how to calm the crowds that he didn’t even notice the Prince fall off his horse and hit his head, or he would have been rushing over to try and help. But as he was trying to think of ideas to calm things, he missed the entire thing happening.
This was not his forte, he did not know people well and he did not know what to say to them that might get them to return to their celebrations instead of causing a riot right then and there. He looked around, hoping that perhaps there would be someone around that could assist him in this. There had to be someone with some sort of authority around that could assist in calming the crowds. There was no way that this was something he could be expected to deal with on his own. Besides, most commoners had no idea who he was, they cared little for military Captains. He needed someone noble or royal, someone who would be recognized and listened to. And hopefully that person would have a plan of their own.
There was no one around, not that he could see at least. So he sighed and instead joined his lieutenants on damage control, seeking out each of the priests that were in charge of these celebrations and attempting to reason with them as to why it was their best bet to move back to their own temples and continue their celebrations from there. They were reasonable people he assumed, clearly they should be able to see that having a rioting crowd would be bad in so many ways.
Maleos just hoped that he had the words to convince them of such things. Words were his weak point, but he knew that he had to try. There didn’t seem to be anyone else that was going to. He vaguely wondered where the Prince had gone, if anyone should be trying to command and control the people, it should be him. But he did not have time to go and search and hope that he was going to be able to calm them. He needed to take action now, and so he began to make his way through the crowds to seek out the men that he needed to speak with from each temple.
Maleos knew what Nike meant when she said that she didn’t think it should be continued, the two groups were tense as is, but he also didn’t think it was a good idea to try and stop them.
“If you think they are angry now, try telling them that they must stop the worship of their gods.” He said quietly to Nike. It was true, he knew how devout most of those in attendance could be, and if they fully tried to stop the celebrations, the crowds would be even angrier than they were now. They simply needed to find a way to calm everyone, to get them to finish their celebrations quickly and without further incident. Maleos had no idea how.
Maleos was too distracted with thoughts on how to calm the crowds that he didn’t even notice the Prince fall off his horse and hit his head, or he would have been rushing over to try and help. But as he was trying to think of ideas to calm things, he missed the entire thing happening.
This was not his forte, he did not know people well and he did not know what to say to them that might get them to return to their celebrations instead of causing a riot right then and there. He looked around, hoping that perhaps there would be someone around that could assist him in this. There had to be someone with some sort of authority around that could assist in calming the crowds. There was no way that this was something he could be expected to deal with on his own. Besides, most commoners had no idea who he was, they cared little for military Captains. He needed someone noble or royal, someone who would be recognized and listened to. And hopefully that person would have a plan of their own.
There was no one around, not that he could see at least. So he sighed and instead joined his lieutenants on damage control, seeking out each of the priests that were in charge of these celebrations and attempting to reason with them as to why it was their best bet to move back to their own temples and continue their celebrations from there. They were reasonable people he assumed, clearly they should be able to see that having a rioting crowd would be bad in so many ways.
Maleos just hoped that he had the words to convince them of such things. Words were his weak point, but he knew that he had to try. There didn’t seem to be anyone else that was going to. He vaguely wondered where the Prince had gone, if anyone should be trying to command and control the people, it should be him. But he did not have time to go and search and hope that he was going to be able to calm them. He needed to take action now, and so he began to make his way through the crowds to seek out the men that he needed to speak with from each temple.
With the deadweight who was her general apparently too far gone to even be woken up when Nike half-drowned him by water on his face, the woman had little choice but to accept the help given to him by the foreign soldier. Afterall, should she let Vangelis remain like a lump of meat on the steps of an unknown household, well what sort of guard would she be then? She couldn't guarantee he wouldn't be trampled by the agitated donkey's, or the rowdy crowd that seemed ready to march up to the temple of Ares to attack the priests and worshippers there.
So the woman nodded at his suggestion, allowing Thrasius to grab the upper arm of Vangelis whilst she lugged at the other. Shifting the man's weight and trying to make it less obvious that she could handle far less weight then a regular, supposedly male militant, Nike grunted as Magnus came forward with the calmed gelding. The Master Informer looked a little worst for wear, obviously someone who did not handle uncontrolled animals much, but he nodded at Thrasius as he helped steady Vangelis's steed for the two militants to heave his body on it.
Briefly, Nike wondered if Magnus knew the other, but caught in the moment to ensure the general did not sleep in an undignified manner over the saddle on the ground again, she did her best to position him in a prone position over his horse, asking Magnus to hold the horse steady before she quickly flickered her gaze back to the situation at hand, assessing it swiftly.
While Maleos's words had been true, and she knew trying to stop either groups from proceeding with the worship of the Gods would be like trying to get the tide to stop, something had to be done with the increasingly tense situation between the two groups. Her frown was deep, biting her bottom lip with intense concentration as her gaze flicked from one end to the other - and then landed on the fire.
Of course! The fire was central to all of the worships for Hephaestus, with him being the God of the forge. Plus, the glow of the large flame was allowing the worshippers to see and take far more offense to the worshippers of Ares down the road, and the more they see, the more agitated they got. So what if she took away their vision entirely? The large bonfire in the middle took a few hours to get to that size, and it would take longer still if the source of the fire was wet.
"Maleos!" she tried to yell over the crowds of liutenants and City Guards jostling to try and settle the growing riot that was seemingly going to happen at any minute. Knowing her voice was unlikely to carry for much further should she try and scream more instructions, she basically pushed the care of the unconscious general to Thrasius and Magnus, before grabbing the large pail she had, filling it up and holding it over her head in a desperate hope that Maleos would see, before tossing the liquid at the nearest lit torch someone else held near her, putting the small flame out.
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With the deadweight who was her general apparently too far gone to even be woken up when Nike half-drowned him by water on his face, the woman had little choice but to accept the help given to him by the foreign soldier. Afterall, should she let Vangelis remain like a lump of meat on the steps of an unknown household, well what sort of guard would she be then? She couldn't guarantee he wouldn't be trampled by the agitated donkey's, or the rowdy crowd that seemed ready to march up to the temple of Ares to attack the priests and worshippers there.
So the woman nodded at his suggestion, allowing Thrasius to grab the upper arm of Vangelis whilst she lugged at the other. Shifting the man's weight and trying to make it less obvious that she could handle far less weight then a regular, supposedly male militant, Nike grunted as Magnus came forward with the calmed gelding. The Master Informer looked a little worst for wear, obviously someone who did not handle uncontrolled animals much, but he nodded at Thrasius as he helped steady Vangelis's steed for the two militants to heave his body on it.
Briefly, Nike wondered if Magnus knew the other, but caught in the moment to ensure the general did not sleep in an undignified manner over the saddle on the ground again, she did her best to position him in a prone position over his horse, asking Magnus to hold the horse steady before she quickly flickered her gaze back to the situation at hand, assessing it swiftly.
While Maleos's words had been true, and she knew trying to stop either groups from proceeding with the worship of the Gods would be like trying to get the tide to stop, something had to be done with the increasingly tense situation between the two groups. Her frown was deep, biting her bottom lip with intense concentration as her gaze flicked from one end to the other - and then landed on the fire.
Of course! The fire was central to all of the worships for Hephaestus, with him being the God of the forge. Plus, the glow of the large flame was allowing the worshippers to see and take far more offense to the worshippers of Ares down the road, and the more they see, the more agitated they got. So what if she took away their vision entirely? The large bonfire in the middle took a few hours to get to that size, and it would take longer still if the source of the fire was wet.
"Maleos!" she tried to yell over the crowds of liutenants and City Guards jostling to try and settle the growing riot that was seemingly going to happen at any minute. Knowing her voice was unlikely to carry for much further should she try and scream more instructions, she basically pushed the care of the unconscious general to Thrasius and Magnus, before grabbing the large pail she had, filling it up and holding it over her head in a desperate hope that Maleos would see, before tossing the liquid at the nearest lit torch someone else held near her, putting the small flame out.
With the deadweight who was her general apparently too far gone to even be woken up when Nike half-drowned him by water on his face, the woman had little choice but to accept the help given to him by the foreign soldier. Afterall, should she let Vangelis remain like a lump of meat on the steps of an unknown household, well what sort of guard would she be then? She couldn't guarantee he wouldn't be trampled by the agitated donkey's, or the rowdy crowd that seemed ready to march up to the temple of Ares to attack the priests and worshippers there.
So the woman nodded at his suggestion, allowing Thrasius to grab the upper arm of Vangelis whilst she lugged at the other. Shifting the man's weight and trying to make it less obvious that she could handle far less weight then a regular, supposedly male militant, Nike grunted as Magnus came forward with the calmed gelding. The Master Informer looked a little worst for wear, obviously someone who did not handle uncontrolled animals much, but he nodded at Thrasius as he helped steady Vangelis's steed for the two militants to heave his body on it.
Briefly, Nike wondered if Magnus knew the other, but caught in the moment to ensure the general did not sleep in an undignified manner over the saddle on the ground again, she did her best to position him in a prone position over his horse, asking Magnus to hold the horse steady before she quickly flickered her gaze back to the situation at hand, assessing it swiftly.
While Maleos's words had been true, and she knew trying to stop either groups from proceeding with the worship of the Gods would be like trying to get the tide to stop, something had to be done with the increasingly tense situation between the two groups. Her frown was deep, biting her bottom lip with intense concentration as her gaze flicked from one end to the other - and then landed on the fire.
Of course! The fire was central to all of the worships for Hephaestus, with him being the God of the forge. Plus, the glow of the large flame was allowing the worshippers to see and take far more offense to the worshippers of Ares down the road, and the more they see, the more agitated they got. So what if she took away their vision entirely? The large bonfire in the middle took a few hours to get to that size, and it would take longer still if the source of the fire was wet.
"Maleos!" she tried to yell over the crowds of liutenants and City Guards jostling to try and settle the growing riot that was seemingly going to happen at any minute. Knowing her voice was unlikely to carry for much further should she try and scream more instructions, she basically pushed the care of the unconscious general to Thrasius and Magnus, before grabbing the large pail she had, filling it up and holding it over her head in a desperate hope that Maleos would see, before tossing the liquid at the nearest lit torch someone else held near her, putting the small flame out.
Skylla had been full-on ready to launch into some sort of conversation with the kind man that had given both her and her companion his plates. Because Lukos had been rude and loud about having to wait. Snorting to herself she watched the man suddenly give an excuse and then make his exit, leaving Skylla standing there with a few plates laden with the food that they had been waiting for. That was a little rude, Skylla thought, but who was she to judge. She was an absolute bitch when she wanted to be.
Looking about, she glanced toward the Captain, giving him a coy smile and motioning with her head toward the exit of the line. It would be easier to eat if she wasn't holding two plates and standing in a line to get more food they really didn't need or probably want to carry.
"Let’s find somewhere better to eat. Too many people and someone has not bathed in a while," she made a comment and a face, throwing a look over her shoulder at a woman that was in front of them in line, using the plates of food to lure the captain away from the line and out of the area before the true chaos of the night began. While it would have been utterly delightful to be part of whatever was happening that was causing such intense chaos in Midas, Skylla's mind was more concerned with her hunger and lingering interest in whatever it was Lukos had been doing for the last few years without her hot on his heels.
Granted, Lukos probably wouldn't want to talk, and that was fine, but it wasn't like she had anywhere to be. She just wanted to be anywhere but here, finding herself utterly disinterested in anything else that was happening between the two festivals now that she had food in her hand. Had it been a festival for Hades, she would have stayed and celebrated just like everyone else. As it stood, she had no real interest in war, nor fire... or... donkeys? Yeah, she was more inclined to walk quickly in the safest direction possible until they were well away from the chaos, glancing toward her companion from time to time as they went.
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Skylla had been full-on ready to launch into some sort of conversation with the kind man that had given both her and her companion his plates. Because Lukos had been rude and loud about having to wait. Snorting to herself she watched the man suddenly give an excuse and then make his exit, leaving Skylla standing there with a few plates laden with the food that they had been waiting for. That was a little rude, Skylla thought, but who was she to judge. She was an absolute bitch when she wanted to be.
Looking about, she glanced toward the Captain, giving him a coy smile and motioning with her head toward the exit of the line. It would be easier to eat if she wasn't holding two plates and standing in a line to get more food they really didn't need or probably want to carry.
"Let’s find somewhere better to eat. Too many people and someone has not bathed in a while," she made a comment and a face, throwing a look over her shoulder at a woman that was in front of them in line, using the plates of food to lure the captain away from the line and out of the area before the true chaos of the night began. While it would have been utterly delightful to be part of whatever was happening that was causing such intense chaos in Midas, Skylla's mind was more concerned with her hunger and lingering interest in whatever it was Lukos had been doing for the last few years without her hot on his heels.
Granted, Lukos probably wouldn't want to talk, and that was fine, but it wasn't like she had anywhere to be. She just wanted to be anywhere but here, finding herself utterly disinterested in anything else that was happening between the two festivals now that she had food in her hand. Had it been a festival for Hades, she would have stayed and celebrated just like everyone else. As it stood, she had no real interest in war, nor fire... or... donkeys? Yeah, she was more inclined to walk quickly in the safest direction possible until they were well away from the chaos, glancing toward her companion from time to time as they went.
Skylla had been full-on ready to launch into some sort of conversation with the kind man that had given both her and her companion his plates. Because Lukos had been rude and loud about having to wait. Snorting to herself she watched the man suddenly give an excuse and then make his exit, leaving Skylla standing there with a few plates laden with the food that they had been waiting for. That was a little rude, Skylla thought, but who was she to judge. She was an absolute bitch when she wanted to be.
Looking about, she glanced toward the Captain, giving him a coy smile and motioning with her head toward the exit of the line. It would be easier to eat if she wasn't holding two plates and standing in a line to get more food they really didn't need or probably want to carry.
"Let’s find somewhere better to eat. Too many people and someone has not bathed in a while," she made a comment and a face, throwing a look over her shoulder at a woman that was in front of them in line, using the plates of food to lure the captain away from the line and out of the area before the true chaos of the night began. While it would have been utterly delightful to be part of whatever was happening that was causing such intense chaos in Midas, Skylla's mind was more concerned with her hunger and lingering interest in whatever it was Lukos had been doing for the last few years without her hot on his heels.
Granted, Lukos probably wouldn't want to talk, and that was fine, but it wasn't like she had anywhere to be. She just wanted to be anywhere but here, finding herself utterly disinterested in anything else that was happening between the two festivals now that she had food in her hand. Had it been a festival for Hades, she would have stayed and celebrated just like everyone else. As it stood, she had no real interest in war, nor fire... or... donkeys? Yeah, she was more inclined to walk quickly in the safest direction possible until they were well away from the chaos, glancing toward her companion from time to time as they went.
It had all gone to shit
What had once started as a day of peaceful festivities now turned to chaos and stupidity, the same chaos and stupidity that made fools burn down the fields and tear down their houses. Naturally, there was little point in trying to make much sense of the chaos, but that did not stop Damocles, who had been accompanied on that day with a retinue of his closest friends in the military, to try and restore a bit of order to the madness.
Whereas others had tried to push back the stampede of donkeys and beasts that flailed out in all directions, Damocles had set himself to the task of trying to moderate the people, instructing those of his command to attempt to break-up blossoming fights before they devolved to further escalations of heated confrontation and unsightly bickering. It had not been difficult to find some modicum of success in this endeavor, seeing as he and his officers has been known for their size and height, with the Captain of the Damned himself ranking amongst the tallest men of the Kingdom. He tried to settle things with peace and calmness, for in this moment of blistering tensions only steely heads would prevail.
And yet, any success he found was quickly countered by an even stronger tide of whiplashed anger. It was true to course that the event had been made in Honor of Hephaestus and Ares, but that had very little bearing now on the horrors that were beginning to form in the simmering bedlam that was blossoming. He desperately pushed against the crowds, trying his best to repel the opposing crowds and rousing clergymen from reaching each other's grasp...alas, even with his Herculean strength, there was so much he could do.
Amidst all the chaos, Damocles knew one thing, this had been instigated by extremists and loons, religious zealots from both orders of priesthoods that saw each other as better than the other. What lunacy had compelled these men to place one God over the other in matters of prayer? Had these so-called men of prayers not remembered that they were all made and formed in image and semblance to all the Gods of Olympus, not just a select few? Surely, this unbearable stupidity was an insult to the Divine Ones themselves. These were not the ways of devoted religion, these was the way of fanatical fundamentalism, and it had to stop!
Meanwhile, more than trying to put balance to the unending sea of people, with a turn of his silver gaze, Damocles turned his attention towards a a roaring pillar of flames, one that had threatened to grow wider and bigger than anything that a rationally devoted person would allow. It seemed that those priests had lost control of their religious embers and now threatened to unleash inferno over their own petty differences! Blasted morons! Those searing flames meant danger, and if left unchecked, could spell doom. The flames had spread into the steps of the temple itself, and with the added winds of the time, flickered and flashed upwards and onwards into a growing conflagration that fundamentally represented the madness of the whole festival!
This was no longer a matter of faith, this was a matter of security and stability. Truthfully, neither Ares nor Hephaestus would want their blessed Kingdom of Colchis, by which they both were patrons of, to burn down to nothing but cinders! With a whip of his head and a jerk of his movements the haggardly featured man turned around and shot his frightening stare at the multitude of city guards and lower-ranked militants that had tried to restore order to the rioting people, raising his voice before lifting his hand pointedly at the growing pillar of flames.
Midas was a city of stone and wood, poor materials to add with flames and heat. If that zealously grown rounds of flames were not contained to manageable levels, or better yet, put out entirely, not only would the plaetia be in danger, but potentially the city could be jeopardized. It would all result in one big, fucking, oven that would reduce all to cinders and leave nothing behind. He could not stand idle and let that happen. May Hephaestus and Ares have mercy on him, for deep down, Damocles knew that what he was doing would be denounced immediately by the fanatics and the zealots as heretical. He was a man of faith, and he prayed to all the Gods equally, but he was also a man of reason and logic.
"The fire! Put out the fire! We need to prevent its spread! Move you fucking sons of whores and put out the fire!" He shouted, ignoring whether or not the men he had instructed were under his command or not. This was not the time for stuffy titles or pristine positions of authority. Fuck ranks and titles! What was needed was leadership and whether or not people would like it, he would provide said leadership.
After his voice rose in a stentorian bellow that would have made most men spring into action without a second thought, Damocles turned to a man besides him and instructed him to keep help find water for the fires to be put out. He was not a coward. If the priestly orders were out to condemn him for his actions in trying to save people from the flames, so be it. He would take responsibility for his own actions, whether they were popular or not. "I said move you stupid bastards! Do you want the plateia to burn? No? Then move you half-brained eunuchs! Move!" he roared once more, directing some of the men that he recognized as soldiers to help him try to tame the flames.
"Water! We need water!" He observed, jerking his head around to the sides in a rushed attempt to see whether or not he could spot any of that sparkling liquid to try and tame the flames. It seemed that the Gods still smiled upon him, if only it was Poseidon for now, for as he turned, he saw it, two full buckets of water that lad laid on the side of the place. He didn't know what their intended use was for, nor did he particularly care to do so. He had more important things to worry about for now. Thus, with wide strides that denoted his intentions, the towering militant seized the buckets and noted the crowds again.
They had grown rowdier and more intense, forming an impassible sea of weltering shouts and thrown fists that he knew were a waste of time in comparison to the threat of the fires. So, he took a shortcut, slicing through the peoples by pushing through the left of the crowd. His hands did not let go of the buckets at any moment, and his brow spiked with sweat and deeply-formed furrows. He was of a single-purpose met for now, and would not stop until his job was done.
In time, he made himself towards the steps of the flames, covering himself with a raised hand as he saw the growing pillar threaten to spread and grow. An old, hooded man had been close to the flames, prostrating himself as if he were worshipping Hephaestus himself. The fucking moron! Hephaestus was the god of creation, not destruction. It was most likely the case that the Smith God would not look kindly on the flames that threatened and grew. Nevertheless, when he recovered himself from the heat and regained his composure, the Captain of the Damned poised himself and readied to throw water at the flames in an effort to douse them.
"No! Stop!" cried out the old man, latching himself unto Damocles's feet as he tried to prevent him from putting out the flames. "The flames of Lord Hephaestus must not be put out! It is his Divine Right to see the flames grow!" cried out the mad priest. With a snarl on his bearded face, the Silver-Eyed man scoffed at the devout's request. "Get the fuck out of my way you senile old woman!" he shouted, kicking the man right in the face as he threw him aside so as to make for the threatening flames and threw the two bucket's content unto the fire.
"More! I need more water! Help me!"
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It had all gone to shit
What had once started as a day of peaceful festivities now turned to chaos and stupidity, the same chaos and stupidity that made fools burn down the fields and tear down their houses. Naturally, there was little point in trying to make much sense of the chaos, but that did not stop Damocles, who had been accompanied on that day with a retinue of his closest friends in the military, to try and restore a bit of order to the madness.
Whereas others had tried to push back the stampede of donkeys and beasts that flailed out in all directions, Damocles had set himself to the task of trying to moderate the people, instructing those of his command to attempt to break-up blossoming fights before they devolved to further escalations of heated confrontation and unsightly bickering. It had not been difficult to find some modicum of success in this endeavor, seeing as he and his officers has been known for their size and height, with the Captain of the Damned himself ranking amongst the tallest men of the Kingdom. He tried to settle things with peace and calmness, for in this moment of blistering tensions only steely heads would prevail.
And yet, any success he found was quickly countered by an even stronger tide of whiplashed anger. It was true to course that the event had been made in Honor of Hephaestus and Ares, but that had very little bearing now on the horrors that were beginning to form in the simmering bedlam that was blossoming. He desperately pushed against the crowds, trying his best to repel the opposing crowds and rousing clergymen from reaching each other's grasp...alas, even with his Herculean strength, there was so much he could do.
Amidst all the chaos, Damocles knew one thing, this had been instigated by extremists and loons, religious zealots from both orders of priesthoods that saw each other as better than the other. What lunacy had compelled these men to place one God over the other in matters of prayer? Had these so-called men of prayers not remembered that they were all made and formed in image and semblance to all the Gods of Olympus, not just a select few? Surely, this unbearable stupidity was an insult to the Divine Ones themselves. These were not the ways of devoted religion, these was the way of fanatical fundamentalism, and it had to stop!
Meanwhile, more than trying to put balance to the unending sea of people, with a turn of his silver gaze, Damocles turned his attention towards a a roaring pillar of flames, one that had threatened to grow wider and bigger than anything that a rationally devoted person would allow. It seemed that those priests had lost control of their religious embers and now threatened to unleash inferno over their own petty differences! Blasted morons! Those searing flames meant danger, and if left unchecked, could spell doom. The flames had spread into the steps of the temple itself, and with the added winds of the time, flickered and flashed upwards and onwards into a growing conflagration that fundamentally represented the madness of the whole festival!
This was no longer a matter of faith, this was a matter of security and stability. Truthfully, neither Ares nor Hephaestus would want their blessed Kingdom of Colchis, by which they both were patrons of, to burn down to nothing but cinders! With a whip of his head and a jerk of his movements the haggardly featured man turned around and shot his frightening stare at the multitude of city guards and lower-ranked militants that had tried to restore order to the rioting people, raising his voice before lifting his hand pointedly at the growing pillar of flames.
Midas was a city of stone and wood, poor materials to add with flames and heat. If that zealously grown rounds of flames were not contained to manageable levels, or better yet, put out entirely, not only would the plaetia be in danger, but potentially the city could be jeopardized. It would all result in one big, fucking, oven that would reduce all to cinders and leave nothing behind. He could not stand idle and let that happen. May Hephaestus and Ares have mercy on him, for deep down, Damocles knew that what he was doing would be denounced immediately by the fanatics and the zealots as heretical. He was a man of faith, and he prayed to all the Gods equally, but he was also a man of reason and logic.
"The fire! Put out the fire! We need to prevent its spread! Move you fucking sons of whores and put out the fire!" He shouted, ignoring whether or not the men he had instructed were under his command or not. This was not the time for stuffy titles or pristine positions of authority. Fuck ranks and titles! What was needed was leadership and whether or not people would like it, he would provide said leadership.
After his voice rose in a stentorian bellow that would have made most men spring into action without a second thought, Damocles turned to a man besides him and instructed him to keep help find water for the fires to be put out. He was not a coward. If the priestly orders were out to condemn him for his actions in trying to save people from the flames, so be it. He would take responsibility for his own actions, whether they were popular or not. "I said move you stupid bastards! Do you want the plateia to burn? No? Then move you half-brained eunuchs! Move!" he roared once more, directing some of the men that he recognized as soldiers to help him try to tame the flames.
"Water! We need water!" He observed, jerking his head around to the sides in a rushed attempt to see whether or not he could spot any of that sparkling liquid to try and tame the flames. It seemed that the Gods still smiled upon him, if only it was Poseidon for now, for as he turned, he saw it, two full buckets of water that lad laid on the side of the place. He didn't know what their intended use was for, nor did he particularly care to do so. He had more important things to worry about for now. Thus, with wide strides that denoted his intentions, the towering militant seized the buckets and noted the crowds again.
They had grown rowdier and more intense, forming an impassible sea of weltering shouts and thrown fists that he knew were a waste of time in comparison to the threat of the fires. So, he took a shortcut, slicing through the peoples by pushing through the left of the crowd. His hands did not let go of the buckets at any moment, and his brow spiked with sweat and deeply-formed furrows. He was of a single-purpose met for now, and would not stop until his job was done.
In time, he made himself towards the steps of the flames, covering himself with a raised hand as he saw the growing pillar threaten to spread and grow. An old, hooded man had been close to the flames, prostrating himself as if he were worshipping Hephaestus himself. The fucking moron! Hephaestus was the god of creation, not destruction. It was most likely the case that the Smith God would not look kindly on the flames that threatened and grew. Nevertheless, when he recovered himself from the heat and regained his composure, the Captain of the Damned poised himself and readied to throw water at the flames in an effort to douse them.
"No! Stop!" cried out the old man, latching himself unto Damocles's feet as he tried to prevent him from putting out the flames. "The flames of Lord Hephaestus must not be put out! It is his Divine Right to see the flames grow!" cried out the mad priest. With a snarl on his bearded face, the Silver-Eyed man scoffed at the devout's request. "Get the fuck out of my way you senile old woman!" he shouted, kicking the man right in the face as he threw him aside so as to make for the threatening flames and threw the two bucket's content unto the fire.
"More! I need more water! Help me!"
It had all gone to shit
What had once started as a day of peaceful festivities now turned to chaos and stupidity, the same chaos and stupidity that made fools burn down the fields and tear down their houses. Naturally, there was little point in trying to make much sense of the chaos, but that did not stop Damocles, who had been accompanied on that day with a retinue of his closest friends in the military, to try and restore a bit of order to the madness.
Whereas others had tried to push back the stampede of donkeys and beasts that flailed out in all directions, Damocles had set himself to the task of trying to moderate the people, instructing those of his command to attempt to break-up blossoming fights before they devolved to further escalations of heated confrontation and unsightly bickering. It had not been difficult to find some modicum of success in this endeavor, seeing as he and his officers has been known for their size and height, with the Captain of the Damned himself ranking amongst the tallest men of the Kingdom. He tried to settle things with peace and calmness, for in this moment of blistering tensions only steely heads would prevail.
And yet, any success he found was quickly countered by an even stronger tide of whiplashed anger. It was true to course that the event had been made in Honor of Hephaestus and Ares, but that had very little bearing now on the horrors that were beginning to form in the simmering bedlam that was blossoming. He desperately pushed against the crowds, trying his best to repel the opposing crowds and rousing clergymen from reaching each other's grasp...alas, even with his Herculean strength, there was so much he could do.
Amidst all the chaos, Damocles knew one thing, this had been instigated by extremists and loons, religious zealots from both orders of priesthoods that saw each other as better than the other. What lunacy had compelled these men to place one God over the other in matters of prayer? Had these so-called men of prayers not remembered that they were all made and formed in image and semblance to all the Gods of Olympus, not just a select few? Surely, this unbearable stupidity was an insult to the Divine Ones themselves. These were not the ways of devoted religion, these was the way of fanatical fundamentalism, and it had to stop!
Meanwhile, more than trying to put balance to the unending sea of people, with a turn of his silver gaze, Damocles turned his attention towards a a roaring pillar of flames, one that had threatened to grow wider and bigger than anything that a rationally devoted person would allow. It seemed that those priests had lost control of their religious embers and now threatened to unleash inferno over their own petty differences! Blasted morons! Those searing flames meant danger, and if left unchecked, could spell doom. The flames had spread into the steps of the temple itself, and with the added winds of the time, flickered and flashed upwards and onwards into a growing conflagration that fundamentally represented the madness of the whole festival!
This was no longer a matter of faith, this was a matter of security and stability. Truthfully, neither Ares nor Hephaestus would want their blessed Kingdom of Colchis, by which they both were patrons of, to burn down to nothing but cinders! With a whip of his head and a jerk of his movements the haggardly featured man turned around and shot his frightening stare at the multitude of city guards and lower-ranked militants that had tried to restore order to the rioting people, raising his voice before lifting his hand pointedly at the growing pillar of flames.
Midas was a city of stone and wood, poor materials to add with flames and heat. If that zealously grown rounds of flames were not contained to manageable levels, or better yet, put out entirely, not only would the plaetia be in danger, but potentially the city could be jeopardized. It would all result in one big, fucking, oven that would reduce all to cinders and leave nothing behind. He could not stand idle and let that happen. May Hephaestus and Ares have mercy on him, for deep down, Damocles knew that what he was doing would be denounced immediately by the fanatics and the zealots as heretical. He was a man of faith, and he prayed to all the Gods equally, but he was also a man of reason and logic.
"The fire! Put out the fire! We need to prevent its spread! Move you fucking sons of whores and put out the fire!" He shouted, ignoring whether or not the men he had instructed were under his command or not. This was not the time for stuffy titles or pristine positions of authority. Fuck ranks and titles! What was needed was leadership and whether or not people would like it, he would provide said leadership.
After his voice rose in a stentorian bellow that would have made most men spring into action without a second thought, Damocles turned to a man besides him and instructed him to keep help find water for the fires to be put out. He was not a coward. If the priestly orders were out to condemn him for his actions in trying to save people from the flames, so be it. He would take responsibility for his own actions, whether they were popular or not. "I said move you stupid bastards! Do you want the plateia to burn? No? Then move you half-brained eunuchs! Move!" he roared once more, directing some of the men that he recognized as soldiers to help him try to tame the flames.
"Water! We need water!" He observed, jerking his head around to the sides in a rushed attempt to see whether or not he could spot any of that sparkling liquid to try and tame the flames. It seemed that the Gods still smiled upon him, if only it was Poseidon for now, for as he turned, he saw it, two full buckets of water that lad laid on the side of the place. He didn't know what their intended use was for, nor did he particularly care to do so. He had more important things to worry about for now. Thus, with wide strides that denoted his intentions, the towering militant seized the buckets and noted the crowds again.
They had grown rowdier and more intense, forming an impassible sea of weltering shouts and thrown fists that he knew were a waste of time in comparison to the threat of the fires. So, he took a shortcut, slicing through the peoples by pushing through the left of the crowd. His hands did not let go of the buckets at any moment, and his brow spiked with sweat and deeply-formed furrows. He was of a single-purpose met for now, and would not stop until his job was done.
In time, he made himself towards the steps of the flames, covering himself with a raised hand as he saw the growing pillar threaten to spread and grow. An old, hooded man had been close to the flames, prostrating himself as if he were worshipping Hephaestus himself. The fucking moron! Hephaestus was the god of creation, not destruction. It was most likely the case that the Smith God would not look kindly on the flames that threatened and grew. Nevertheless, when he recovered himself from the heat and regained his composure, the Captain of the Damned poised himself and readied to throw water at the flames in an effort to douse them.
"No! Stop!" cried out the old man, latching himself unto Damocles's feet as he tried to prevent him from putting out the flames. "The flames of Lord Hephaestus must not be put out! It is his Divine Right to see the flames grow!" cried out the mad priest. With a snarl on his bearded face, the Silver-Eyed man scoffed at the devout's request. "Get the fuck out of my way you senile old woman!" he shouted, kicking the man right in the face as he threw him aside so as to make for the threatening flames and threw the two bucket's content unto the fire.
"More! I need more water! Help me!"
Vangelis had no idea what was going on. Which was rare for him. A man of dependency, determination, responsibility and a workaholic nature that ensured he was always aware of everything that happened within his military unit, his province and his kingdom, it was rare for Vangelis to be so decided out of the loop on what was happening around him. Whilst social cues and personal notices were beyond him, his reflexes were good and his stills of observation when it came to dangers or potential issues in his near vicinity were strong. To be groggy in the head, shifting about uncomfortably and wondering what the hell that noise was, was a fairly new experience for him.
The closest he had gotten to feeling like this before was when he had been fighting in the North and been knocked to the ground by an opponent. He had fallen under the hooves of a horse and been lucky not to lose his life. He had been knocked out and came to later in the physicians tent in the encampment. Nike had brought him back to the safety of their camp after the fighting had ended and he had been found still alive in the mud.
Now, it felt like a decidedly similar experience. His vision black and his head pounding, Vangelis was forced to blink multiple times until the world became clearer. Just swirling paints in water, his vision shifted back into place, blurry at first and then clearer. The noises about his head stopped sounding as if they were coming from the end of a tunnel and the movement of his body was clearly in a pattern. Was he... on a horse?
Squeezing his eyes shut and trying to clear his head, Vangelis turned his eyes and found his head start to hammer. A soft groan seeped from between his lips. Was one of those voices Nike? Was that who he was hearing? What about the shouts and the calls? Gods, it sounded like chaos. What had happened that had caused such-?
Wait. He remembered donkeys. Of all things. Why was he remembering donkeys?
In a momentary rush that only stung his head, Vangelis recalled his and Maleos of Eubocris' theatrics in ensuring the little stampede of asses hadn't run everyone down. And then little else afterwards. Had he been unseated? It would make sense given he had not been holding onto Windrunner's reins at the time.
Trying to look around again, Vangelis felt about his body and could sense that all his limbs worked and his fingers and toes could all wriggle. There was a pressure in his middle and a heaviness in his head and hands that suggested he was flopped over the back of a horse on his belly, his legs down one side and his arms hanging over the other.
"Nike?" His voice was barely a crackle as he looked around and then cleared his throat. He sounded much more like himself when he tried again. "Nike, what's going on?"
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Vangelis had no idea what was going on. Which was rare for him. A man of dependency, determination, responsibility and a workaholic nature that ensured he was always aware of everything that happened within his military unit, his province and his kingdom, it was rare for Vangelis to be so decided out of the loop on what was happening around him. Whilst social cues and personal notices were beyond him, his reflexes were good and his stills of observation when it came to dangers or potential issues in his near vicinity were strong. To be groggy in the head, shifting about uncomfortably and wondering what the hell that noise was, was a fairly new experience for him.
The closest he had gotten to feeling like this before was when he had been fighting in the North and been knocked to the ground by an opponent. He had fallen under the hooves of a horse and been lucky not to lose his life. He had been knocked out and came to later in the physicians tent in the encampment. Nike had brought him back to the safety of their camp after the fighting had ended and he had been found still alive in the mud.
Now, it felt like a decidedly similar experience. His vision black and his head pounding, Vangelis was forced to blink multiple times until the world became clearer. Just swirling paints in water, his vision shifted back into place, blurry at first and then clearer. The noises about his head stopped sounding as if they were coming from the end of a tunnel and the movement of his body was clearly in a pattern. Was he... on a horse?
Squeezing his eyes shut and trying to clear his head, Vangelis turned his eyes and found his head start to hammer. A soft groan seeped from between his lips. Was one of those voices Nike? Was that who he was hearing? What about the shouts and the calls? Gods, it sounded like chaos. What had happened that had caused such-?
Wait. He remembered donkeys. Of all things. Why was he remembering donkeys?
In a momentary rush that only stung his head, Vangelis recalled his and Maleos of Eubocris' theatrics in ensuring the little stampede of asses hadn't run everyone down. And then little else afterwards. Had he been unseated? It would make sense given he had not been holding onto Windrunner's reins at the time.
Trying to look around again, Vangelis felt about his body and could sense that all his limbs worked and his fingers and toes could all wriggle. There was a pressure in his middle and a heaviness in his head and hands that suggested he was flopped over the back of a horse on his belly, his legs down one side and his arms hanging over the other.
"Nike?" His voice was barely a crackle as he looked around and then cleared his throat. He sounded much more like himself when he tried again. "Nike, what's going on?"
Vangelis had no idea what was going on. Which was rare for him. A man of dependency, determination, responsibility and a workaholic nature that ensured he was always aware of everything that happened within his military unit, his province and his kingdom, it was rare for Vangelis to be so decided out of the loop on what was happening around him. Whilst social cues and personal notices were beyond him, his reflexes were good and his stills of observation when it came to dangers or potential issues in his near vicinity were strong. To be groggy in the head, shifting about uncomfortably and wondering what the hell that noise was, was a fairly new experience for him.
The closest he had gotten to feeling like this before was when he had been fighting in the North and been knocked to the ground by an opponent. He had fallen under the hooves of a horse and been lucky not to lose his life. He had been knocked out and came to later in the physicians tent in the encampment. Nike had brought him back to the safety of their camp after the fighting had ended and he had been found still alive in the mud.
Now, it felt like a decidedly similar experience. His vision black and his head pounding, Vangelis was forced to blink multiple times until the world became clearer. Just swirling paints in water, his vision shifted back into place, blurry at first and then clearer. The noises about his head stopped sounding as if they were coming from the end of a tunnel and the movement of his body was clearly in a pattern. Was he... on a horse?
Squeezing his eyes shut and trying to clear his head, Vangelis turned his eyes and found his head start to hammer. A soft groan seeped from between his lips. Was one of those voices Nike? Was that who he was hearing? What about the shouts and the calls? Gods, it sounded like chaos. What had happened that had caused such-?
Wait. He remembered donkeys. Of all things. Why was he remembering donkeys?
In a momentary rush that only stung his head, Vangelis recalled his and Maleos of Eubocris' theatrics in ensuring the little stampede of asses hadn't run everyone down. And then little else afterwards. Had he been unseated? It would make sense given he had not been holding onto Windrunner's reins at the time.
Trying to look around again, Vangelis felt about his body and could sense that all his limbs worked and his fingers and toes could all wriggle. There was a pressure in his middle and a heaviness in his head and hands that suggested he was flopped over the back of a horse on his belly, his legs down one side and his arms hanging over the other.
"Nike?" His voice was barely a crackle as he looked around and then cleared his throat. He sounded much more like himself when he tried again. "Nike, what's going on?"
Maleos did not hear Nike shouting for him over the shouts and cries of the restless crowd, so he had no idea that she was asking for assistance putting out fires. The crowds grew more and more rowdy as time passed, and he knew that he needed to find a way to get them to calm down, or fire would not be their only worry. Fire could be put out with water, rioting people could not be so easily quelled. He thought to speak with the leaders of the temples, to get each of them to speak to their crowds and help assure their people that there was no need to resort to violence.
That was until he saw Damocles kicking one of them square in the face.
“Idiot.” He muttered to himself, there was no hope now, of peacefully ending the anger of the crowds, not when a military man, a follower of Ares, made such an assault against a priest of Hephaestus. The crowds angered at that sight even more, and the violence began. Friends and neighbours turning on each other in the name of their Gods. Pure and total chaos, making putting out the fires and trying to make sure no flames were knocked out even harder.
Maleos had no idea what to do now, his plan of negotiation thrown out the window by someone else. He could not just leave the crowds here though, could not leave while innocent people were at risk of being hurt, and another fire threatened to ravage Midas. They had barely recovered from the last one.
He continued to make his way through the crowds, breaking up fights as best as he could as he went. And then it donned on him. Perhaps the anger of these people could be put out as easily as the fires.
He was lucky as he ran into four men from his unit that had been attending the festivities.
“Grab buckets of water. You three, use your buckets to put the fires out. Ignore any protests, we can deal with upset people later, once we make sure that they aren’t about to burn to death.” He said, and the three he had motioned at went off to do as they were ordered. The last remaining soldier stood with Maleos still.
“We will throw water on the people. It should disrupt their activities and with any luck, they will end their fights and go home to deal with the fact that they are wet.” He stated. He had no clue if the plan was going to work, but he hoped people would dislike the fact that they are covered in water and instead return to their homes to dry off and think rationally about all of this. They were really getting upset over nothing if he was being honest.
He grabbed a bucket himself, filling it quickly from a nearby well, he threw it on the nearest group of squabbling people, and as he hoped, the people became more upset at the fact that they were now dripping with water than anything. And they slowly began to disperse.
“Keep it up!” He shouted to the man in his unit that was throwing water on people. Not everyone cared as much, but if they could get enough of them to leave, things would be much easier to deal with.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Maleos did not hear Nike shouting for him over the shouts and cries of the restless crowd, so he had no idea that she was asking for assistance putting out fires. The crowds grew more and more rowdy as time passed, and he knew that he needed to find a way to get them to calm down, or fire would not be their only worry. Fire could be put out with water, rioting people could not be so easily quelled. He thought to speak with the leaders of the temples, to get each of them to speak to their crowds and help assure their people that there was no need to resort to violence.
That was until he saw Damocles kicking one of them square in the face.
“Idiot.” He muttered to himself, there was no hope now, of peacefully ending the anger of the crowds, not when a military man, a follower of Ares, made such an assault against a priest of Hephaestus. The crowds angered at that sight even more, and the violence began. Friends and neighbours turning on each other in the name of their Gods. Pure and total chaos, making putting out the fires and trying to make sure no flames were knocked out even harder.
Maleos had no idea what to do now, his plan of negotiation thrown out the window by someone else. He could not just leave the crowds here though, could not leave while innocent people were at risk of being hurt, and another fire threatened to ravage Midas. They had barely recovered from the last one.
He continued to make his way through the crowds, breaking up fights as best as he could as he went. And then it donned on him. Perhaps the anger of these people could be put out as easily as the fires.
He was lucky as he ran into four men from his unit that had been attending the festivities.
“Grab buckets of water. You three, use your buckets to put the fires out. Ignore any protests, we can deal with upset people later, once we make sure that they aren’t about to burn to death.” He said, and the three he had motioned at went off to do as they were ordered. The last remaining soldier stood with Maleos still.
“We will throw water on the people. It should disrupt their activities and with any luck, they will end their fights and go home to deal with the fact that they are wet.” He stated. He had no clue if the plan was going to work, but he hoped people would dislike the fact that they are covered in water and instead return to their homes to dry off and think rationally about all of this. They were really getting upset over nothing if he was being honest.
He grabbed a bucket himself, filling it quickly from a nearby well, he threw it on the nearest group of squabbling people, and as he hoped, the people became more upset at the fact that they were now dripping with water than anything. And they slowly began to disperse.
“Keep it up!” He shouted to the man in his unit that was throwing water on people. Not everyone cared as much, but if they could get enough of them to leave, things would be much easier to deal with.
Maleos did not hear Nike shouting for him over the shouts and cries of the restless crowd, so he had no idea that she was asking for assistance putting out fires. The crowds grew more and more rowdy as time passed, and he knew that he needed to find a way to get them to calm down, or fire would not be their only worry. Fire could be put out with water, rioting people could not be so easily quelled. He thought to speak with the leaders of the temples, to get each of them to speak to their crowds and help assure their people that there was no need to resort to violence.
That was until he saw Damocles kicking one of them square in the face.
“Idiot.” He muttered to himself, there was no hope now, of peacefully ending the anger of the crowds, not when a military man, a follower of Ares, made such an assault against a priest of Hephaestus. The crowds angered at that sight even more, and the violence began. Friends and neighbours turning on each other in the name of their Gods. Pure and total chaos, making putting out the fires and trying to make sure no flames were knocked out even harder.
Maleos had no idea what to do now, his plan of negotiation thrown out the window by someone else. He could not just leave the crowds here though, could not leave while innocent people were at risk of being hurt, and another fire threatened to ravage Midas. They had barely recovered from the last one.
He continued to make his way through the crowds, breaking up fights as best as he could as he went. And then it donned on him. Perhaps the anger of these people could be put out as easily as the fires.
He was lucky as he ran into four men from his unit that had been attending the festivities.
“Grab buckets of water. You three, use your buckets to put the fires out. Ignore any protests, we can deal with upset people later, once we make sure that they aren’t about to burn to death.” He said, and the three he had motioned at went off to do as they were ordered. The last remaining soldier stood with Maleos still.
“We will throw water on the people. It should disrupt their activities and with any luck, they will end their fights and go home to deal with the fact that they are wet.” He stated. He had no clue if the plan was going to work, but he hoped people would dislike the fact that they are covered in water and instead return to their homes to dry off and think rationally about all of this. They were really getting upset over nothing if he was being honest.
He grabbed a bucket himself, filling it quickly from a nearby well, he threw it on the nearest group of squabbling people, and as he hoped, the people became more upset at the fact that they were now dripping with water than anything. And they slowly began to disperse.
“Keep it up!” He shouted to the man in his unit that was throwing water on people. Not everyone cared as much, but if they could get enough of them to leave, things would be much easier to deal with.
Partially, Nike had hoped that the general would've remained unconscious. Really, it would've been far easier to handle a dead weight perhaps? At least she wouldn't have to deal with a moving body on a moving horse while she was trying to manoevre so the bleary man wouldn't fall off whilst simultaneously trying to get water to put out the flames - and was that Damocles? What was he trying to do?
Nike frowned when she saw the brash, loud militant kick a man right in the face, and almost every part of her body balked at his actions. Despite being a militant who was quick and had no qualms on killing on the battlefield, Nike still did not condone unnecessary violence to civilians.
Filing that information away for now (because she really had no time to be reprimanding someone when more shit was going down), Nike almost groaned out loud when the followers of Ares and the remaining priests of Hephaestus began to take insult to the actions of Damocles against their priests. The angered crowds made their protests heard, and it was right about this time that Nike felt the growth of a pounding headache at the back of her head, from the mess they were in.
Grabbing the collar of Vangelis to ensure he didn't slide off the horse in his attempts to get a sense of what was going on, she reined in the horse they were on as she motioned in the drection of where thankfully, she saw Maleos trying to break up. "Damocles being an idiot again." she murmured, knowing Vangelis would get where she was coming from once he saw the unrest Damocles's actions had created. "At least Maleos is around."
Watching as the younger male quickly rallied the remaining military men around the area, once the woman has ensured Maleos had it well in hand, she threw her eyes to the way upwards to the temple of Ares. "Perhaps we should go in that direction to ensure they don't decide to come charging down insisting on a fight?" The priests of Hephaestus were protesting on the flames being put out of course, but with teh amount of men from Maleos's unit overpowering the amount of priests, it seemed to be well in hand for now.
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Partially, Nike had hoped that the general would've remained unconscious. Really, it would've been far easier to handle a dead weight perhaps? At least she wouldn't have to deal with a moving body on a moving horse while she was trying to manoevre so the bleary man wouldn't fall off whilst simultaneously trying to get water to put out the flames - and was that Damocles? What was he trying to do?
Nike frowned when she saw the brash, loud militant kick a man right in the face, and almost every part of her body balked at his actions. Despite being a militant who was quick and had no qualms on killing on the battlefield, Nike still did not condone unnecessary violence to civilians.
Filing that information away for now (because she really had no time to be reprimanding someone when more shit was going down), Nike almost groaned out loud when the followers of Ares and the remaining priests of Hephaestus began to take insult to the actions of Damocles against their priests. The angered crowds made their protests heard, and it was right about this time that Nike felt the growth of a pounding headache at the back of her head, from the mess they were in.
Grabbing the collar of Vangelis to ensure he didn't slide off the horse in his attempts to get a sense of what was going on, she reined in the horse they were on as she motioned in the drection of where thankfully, she saw Maleos trying to break up. "Damocles being an idiot again." she murmured, knowing Vangelis would get where she was coming from once he saw the unrest Damocles's actions had created. "At least Maleos is around."
Watching as the younger male quickly rallied the remaining military men around the area, once the woman has ensured Maleos had it well in hand, she threw her eyes to the way upwards to the temple of Ares. "Perhaps we should go in that direction to ensure they don't decide to come charging down insisting on a fight?" The priests of Hephaestus were protesting on the flames being put out of course, but with teh amount of men from Maleos's unit overpowering the amount of priests, it seemed to be well in hand for now.
Partially, Nike had hoped that the general would've remained unconscious. Really, it would've been far easier to handle a dead weight perhaps? At least she wouldn't have to deal with a moving body on a moving horse while she was trying to manoevre so the bleary man wouldn't fall off whilst simultaneously trying to get water to put out the flames - and was that Damocles? What was he trying to do?
Nike frowned when she saw the brash, loud militant kick a man right in the face, and almost every part of her body balked at his actions. Despite being a militant who was quick and had no qualms on killing on the battlefield, Nike still did not condone unnecessary violence to civilians.
Filing that information away for now (because she really had no time to be reprimanding someone when more shit was going down), Nike almost groaned out loud when the followers of Ares and the remaining priests of Hephaestus began to take insult to the actions of Damocles against their priests. The angered crowds made their protests heard, and it was right about this time that Nike felt the growth of a pounding headache at the back of her head, from the mess they were in.
Grabbing the collar of Vangelis to ensure he didn't slide off the horse in his attempts to get a sense of what was going on, she reined in the horse they were on as she motioned in the drection of where thankfully, she saw Maleos trying to break up. "Damocles being an idiot again." she murmured, knowing Vangelis would get where she was coming from once he saw the unrest Damocles's actions had created. "At least Maleos is around."
Watching as the younger male quickly rallied the remaining military men around the area, once the woman has ensured Maleos had it well in hand, she threw her eyes to the way upwards to the temple of Ares. "Perhaps we should go in that direction to ensure they don't decide to come charging down insisting on a fight?" The priests of Hephaestus were protesting on the flames being put out of course, but with teh amount of men from Maleos's unit overpowering the amount of priests, it seemed to be well in hand for now.