Part 2: Life and Tragedies

A group of men has assembled in the Pnyx. The light of democracy shines upon the Athenians as they engage in a fierce discussion.
Archon I: Inconceivable! Not a single Drachma should be cut from the budget for the Theater of Dionysos! The tragedies we perform there are a matter of pride for the whole polis!
Archon I: O Dionysos! If only you could open your eyes and witness this calamity befalling us—no wine, not even your finest, could ease such agony!
Perikles: I do not dispute your words. Athens prides itself on our tragedies, especially during the Dionysia.
Archon II: Hmph, what nonsense, Hermippos! Don't you think we have greater issues at hand?
Archon II: If the fighting in Potidaia does not go in our favor, I fear it will be the Spartans that host our Dionysia.
Perikles: You counsel wisely; the money that would go to this festival will come at the expense of our ability to fight this war ...
Archon III: So, what do you suggest, Andrius? Are we to just throw every Drachma and fighting man we have left into this battle? All for a war that seems to have no end?
Archon III: The polis has been eagerly awaiting the Dionysia. This festival is not some mere indulgence or luxury—it brings hope to the people and the favor of the gods!
Perikles: Yes. Athens thrives because we honor our traditions ...
Archon III: Answer me, Andrius. Do we shatter our people's hope? Must we abandon our traditions and the gods for victory?
Archon II: I never said that! Hades take you!
Archon II: What good are some honeyed words on a stage against a spear? You want more tragedies, eh? Good, they'll be writing them about our hubris.
The Archons: ...
The words gain venom with each reply until the men are nearly at each other's throats.
Perikles: Theodoros. You just spat on my robe.
Perikles: Please, Andrius. Let go of his beard!
With calm and commanding presence, Perikles positions himself between the brawling Athenians.
Perikles: Herodotus wrote that whenever you hear an eagle cry—
"Clang—!"
A shadowy, winged figure sweeps over the crowd and hurls a metal tool along the ground.
It rolls a few times before coming to a stop—an ordinary file.
Archon I: Are we under attack? An assassin!?
Archon II: Did that eagle ... drop a blade from its mouth?
Archon III: Guards! Guards! Defend Perikles!
Kassandra: There's no need for all this drama; your assassin has already been captured.
Kassandra: He's ... in the bag.
Kassandra drops the bag in front of the gathered Archons, prompting a grunt of pain from inside.
Archon I: Huh ... W-Who are you ...
Perikles: Who else could it be ... Kassandra.
Perikles: I am pleased to see you again. I hope I didn't cause you any trouble. Though you seem to have taken care of it.
Kassandra: Hah. I'm a misthios, trouble follows in my wake. But this man intended to trouble you.
Kassandra: And there is something unusual about his weapon.
Perikles receives the file from Kassandra and examines it.
Perikles: Hmm. It's always something unusual, isn't it?
Perikles: This looks just like an ordinary file to me—fit for carving a statue or shaping wood perhaps; but a poor tool for an assassin.
Kassandra: And yet, it was his weapon of choice. There's something strange about all this, wouldn't you agree?
Perikles: That may be, but if all of my would-be assassins choose as he has, haha, I'm sure to live a long life.
Kassandra: There's more to this than meets the eye, Perikles. This man is not working alone.
She opens the bag, revealing the assassin's face.
The Rookie "Actor": Woe is me! This is not going according to plan ...
The Rookie "Actor": P-Please, forgive me! I'm just a poor fool not a murderer!
The Rookie "Actor": You see, there is a bounty on your head, Perikles ...
Perikles: A bounty set by the Cult of Kosmos, I presume? They've been after my head a long time.
The Rookie "Actor": K-Kosmos? No, I've never heard of them! I was just told that there was a bounty. I'm a poor man. Show mercy on me.
Kassandra: If what it says is true, the reward would be tantalizing indeed.
She produces a document and hands it to the Strategos.
Kassandra: You should see for yourself.
Perikles: A fortune like this would be enough to repair the wall from here to Piraeus.
Kassandra: A shame we'd have to trade the walls for your head.
Perikles: It may be better to keep your voice low. I'm afraid that there are some here that might be tempted to make that trade.
Perikles: Indeed, I'm starting to worry just how many would-be assassins could be surrounding me.
Kassandra: It's the Cult of Kosmos you should worry about—not these amateurs.
Kassandra: Most of all, we must keep a wary eye out for Alexios, my brother ... Though I suppose I should be calling him "Deimos" now.
Kassandra: He told me himself that he would take your head and he'll stop at nothing until he succeeds.
Perikles: You're not doing much to calm my nerves.
Kassandra: You're not the only one. Your colleagues look as stiff as scared goats.
Behind them the other Archons stand frozen in place, their faces grim.
Archon II: Malaka! The Spartans must be behind it! The Dionysia is a perfect opportunity. That must be why they hired that cult to kill our Strategos!
Archon II: That settles it! The Dionysia must be suspended, and the city placed on high alert!
Archon I: That's absolutely unacceptable!
Archon I: Athens must uphold her dignity, even in times of war. The Dionysia is not just about us Athenians indulging in revelry—it's about honoring Dionysos himself!
Perikles: ...
Archon III: And what of our Strategos's safety?
Archon III: Athens without Perikles is like the Dionysia without Dionysos!
The bickering begins again, until all turn to Perikles.
Perikles: You look to me, friends. But this is not our way. I am not your king. To host the Dionysia or not, that is a decision we must decide together as citizens.
Perikles walks toward the urn placed prominently near them.
Perikles: If you agree that the Dionysia should proceed as planned, cast your shard into the urn. If the urn is at least half-full then we hold the Dionysia as scheduled.
All: ...
Perikles: The glory of Athens demands that we not cower before those that dare to threaten us!
Archon I: Perikles ... you ...
Perikles: Athens—the birthplace of democracy, the Panathenaea, and home of the greatest dramas. Here, we worship the gods, and in return, we are blessed by them.
Perikles: We appreciate beauty without succumbing to excess. We pursue wisdom without becoming weak. While we may not love war as the Spartans do, we fight with courage more than their equal!
Perikles: And we must let neither war nor fear of death break our spirit or our love for freedom.
Perikles: Sacrifices must be made, and we understand that fully!
Archon II: On behalf of all Athenians, I thank you, Perikles.
Kassandra: Well spoken, Perikles.
Perikles: Oh, well, it was nothing; to wield rhetoric skillfully in this city is not just an art, but a matter of survival.
Perikles: I fear I may have spoken too well. The Dionysia is likely to go on as planned. So, if you don't mind, I would ask you to discover who this assassin ...
Kassandra: Spare me from another speech, I'm already happy to help.
Perikles: Don't be so quick to decide. I fear this will be no easy task.
Kassandra: A difficult task means a handsome payment.
Kassandra grabs a pottery shard and tosses it toward the urn.
Archon I: Stop! You have no right to vote here!
With a sharp, clear sound, the shard lands squarely in the urn.
Kassandra: Indulge me, call it a part of my payment. I've always wanted to know what it feels like.
All: ...
The mercenary pats the dust from her hands, tucks the file away, and strides off without response.
Her shard is soon made insignificant by the piling weight of those that follow.
One shard after another is tossed into the urn, like raindrops falling on a tile roof.