Bard: O Dionysos, the source of all joy,
Bard: From your sacred wine, we draw our strength.
Bard: From the earth you rise,
Bard: Scattering forth your sacred vine.
Bard: You taught us to sing with mirth sublime,
Bard: And set our spirits to dance in the endless skies.
A ceramic bowl sits before the bard, but the crowd seems to ignore it.
Until a pointed cough interrupts the bard's song.
Bard: By Zeus! Is that who I think it is?
Bard: If it isn't the rising star of the akropolis, Kassandra, the Eagle Bearer!
Kassandra: Stop, Euphonia.
Kassandra: I'm just a misthios for hire. I've no interest in politics. Save those grandiose words of yours for the Archons.
Bard: Ah, but I speak only the truth. The tales of your valorous exploits in Megaris precede you ...
Bard: They declare that you're a hero throughout Athens and praise you as a demigod ...
Kassandra shakes her head as she approaches to interrupt the bard.
Kassandra: I have a question for you, Euphonia. The crowd will just have to wait for your next performance.
Bard: What? You wound me, Kassandra! We bards display our art to please the gods not just the vulgar crowd, just as you mercenaries do.
Kassandra: Anything for a Drachma or two, right?
Kassandra grabs a shining Drachma from her pouch and tosses it into the bard's hand.
Bard: We all have our gifts to display, don't we? From the lowliest bard to the greatest of warriors, even those craftsmen are no different.
Bard: I suppose you've noticed them too.
In the distance, two figures crouch in a corner of the akropolis, chiseling the wall with their files.
Kassandra: It seems you take your maintenance a little too seriously here.
Bard: Oh, it's nothing really. Just a few loose bricks. Easily replaced in a matter of hours. Still, these particular artisans have attracted some rumors.
Bard: One of them claimed to be enlightened by Athena. He kept mumbling nonsense about "the statue of Athena," "gold leaves," and "unjust wars." And his companion seemed to be a real grouch.
Bard: I've seen a few people try to speak with them, invite them to pick berries outside the city, but they seemed to have no interest ...
Bard: Anyways, what does it matter? The Dionysia is drawing near; is it any wonder that eccentrics like them might show up?
Kassandra: I see.
Kassandra: Thanks, Euphonia.
She tosses a few more Drachmae into the bard's bowl as she strides away.
Bard: ...!
Kassandra stealthily approaches a dark corner of the street.
There, two figures have gathered together whispering, and casting vigilant looks around.
The Rookie "Actor": For the love of this land, I will not tolerate you raiding the coffers of our people to fund this war. Judgment has been passed, and I shall be its executioner. This is for Athena and for the bounty on Archon's head.
The Wise "Playwright": Excellent, Domitius. You've memorized your lines well.
The Wise "Playwright": Whether you succeed or not, rumors of your attempt will pass through every corner of the city. All that's left is for the others to receive their messages, then they will know our plans.
The Rookie "Actor": Haven't I told you it's in the bag, Isonia?
The Rookie "Actor": So, how are we supposed to read these messages when they come? The Sage explained nothing to us ...
The Wise "Playwright": ...
The Wise "Playwright": That's none of your concern, fool!
The Rookie "Actor": Seems like you don't know any more about the Sage's plans than I do.
The "playwright" scoffs dismissively.
The Wise "Playwright": You're always going on about the "Sage" this and the "Sage" that; I'm tired of it!
The Wise "Playwright": Do you think you're special just because you were chosen for this task? You're a veritable Narcissus!
The subject of her tirade shrinks under her words, causing the "playwright" to press the attack.
The Wise "Playwright": If you really think you deserve that praise, heh heh ...
The Wise "Playwright": You'd better not forget this.
The Wise "Playwright": The perfect tool for our trade ... and your mission.
The Wise "Playwright": We will only receive one file each—that was the Sage's own words. Keep it safe.
The Rookie "Actor": Oh, I will!
The Rookie "Actor": Huh? This thing is as dull as a weathered stone. How am I supposed to cut the Archon's throat with this?
The Wise "Playwright": Then sharpen it, fool!
The "playwright" turns from him with another scoff, leaving the "actor" still studying the file.
The Rookie "Actor": Where are you going, Isonia?
The Wise "Playwright": You really are deluded, aren't you? I've more work to do before the plan is ready.
The Rookie "Actor": Oh ... good luck then.
He waves goodbye to the "playwright," then clenches the file in his hand and moves to the wall.
The Rookie "Actor": Ah ... I should have enough time to put an edge on this before it gets dark.
The Rookie "Actor": There's no way I can take down that self-important windbag with brute force alone ... Not to mention there's only a small window for me to strike.
A broken spear is thrust into the brick next to him.
The Rookie "Actor": ...!
Kassandra: You were saying something?
Kassandra: You're a suspicious sort of character, aren't you? For the safety of this city—and the self-important windbags that run it—I keep an eye out for your type.
The Rookie "Actor": W-What? No!
Kassandra pounces on the still dumbfounded "actor."
COMBAT
The "actor" curls up his legs in fear, his hands bound up tight behind his back. Kassandra clasps her hands and leans over him.
Kassandra: So, whose throat were you sharpening this for again?
The Rookie "Actor": ...!
Kassandra: There are many figures I could imagine, from the Ecclesia or the Boule, perhaps? But how many of them would find their way here?
Kassandra: I've no particular desire to kill you. So, it's in your interest to speak, and to speak only the truth.
The Rookie "Actor": ...
The "actor" hesitates until he reads the woman's hard face and finally stammers out a name.
The Rookie "Actor": Perikles.
Kassandra: Ah, of course. It would be that troublemaking Strategos.
The Rookie "Actor": There's nothing else I can tell you!
Kassandra: Alright, if that's all you can say.
Kassandra moves closer with a nod.
*thwack*
The Rookie "Actor": Urgh ...
The sudden strike to his head renders the man limp.
Kassandra: But I won't let Perikles be taken out by the likes of you.
Kassandra: Besides, the last thing I want is more trouble here.
Kassandra: I'll hand this matter over to the man himself.
She stuffs the "actor" into a thick cloth bag.
As she ties up the bag with a knot, an eagle's cry pierces through the air.