Thread: τςεασυςε οζ τθε δεμjηοδ (тreaѕυre oғ тнe deмιgod) +ḋɾ ¢υяισѕιту & тαℓιи+

j j j j j j. . j , . j , j . . j jj j j Translation we are in need of your help, my Kingdom is in dire straits. Please come as soon as you are able. We will reward you, money from the taxes collected each year. I also have a daughter, she is of age. Perhaps we can come to an agreement. King Binkentios Demetriados of the island of Zakynthos Nikostratos had done more for less reasoning. He needed not for sums of gold, or the temptation of wine and women. The promise of glorification alone was summoning enough for a man of his stature and reputation. Granted, the things sworn to him by document were added benefit that he would fully take advantage of. Though, this was a promise of battle, of glory. It was an ensurance that another son of Zeus could carve his name even deeper into the wall of history like his ancestors before him. No longer was he Niko, bastard son of a spartan queen, but Nikostratos, conqueroring her of the people of Greece. This poor island of Zakynthos had chosen wisely to seek his aid in their time of desperation. According to tales, it had once been a prospering kingdom, now diminished to the lesser powers of the world through war and defeat. What better way to rise from the ashes like a pheonix than to be led by a half-god. There was no better way, and clearly their king knew it. It was several days sail from the mainland to the spits of land in the Isles, but it was finally the last day. The skyline of the city and palave could be seen on the horizon as the spartan lord looked from the high mast of the ship. He had little over a hundred well-trained men on the three ships that he led. Each one of them equal to twenty men in ordinary combat, and each of them willing to give their life without hesitation for their leader. My lord! One of them called from below, attempting to gain the attention of Nikostratos. Your amor is prepared for you! With a simple nod, the manw as dismissed back into the ship, awaiting the captain's arrival, which was soon after. The ships that arrived on the docks that evening were gaunt, extravagant vessels made for speed, not luxury. The men who occupied them were warriors, without need of such pamperment, but when they departed, they were greeted like kings. They wore armor of gold and blue and white. The streets were filled with so many inhabitants that many were forced to watch from their windows to give their praise. It was obvious that the people know who had come to their land, if not his name. It was the man who would return their kigdom to it's former glory, and they treated him as such. Blessings and praise was thrown every which way as they paraded towards the palace, disciplined men feeling awash with flattery as women threw themselves at their feet, and mothers offered up their babies for a possible chance to have it kissed by a hero. Niko took delight in this, lived for it even. If love of a battle was the monopoly pass time of the young titan, than moments like this were the close second. From his adorned chariot he amplified their cheers with the thrust of his fist and the might of his roar. He truly knew how to please the masses. Upon arrival to the palace steps, most of the city was now behind them, trailing the small legion with open infatuation. Bringing his tame horses to a halt, the demi-god turned once more to look at his men, then to the people beyond them. This was right in his eyes. How the world should treat these gods amongst men. For that's what they were, and in his case, a more literal sense of the term. Ascending the stairs first and alone, Nikostratos finally got the chance to look upon the man who had called for his assistance, and be called savior by him. They embraced like brothers, clasping one another by the forearm before being pulled into a tight hug. When the hug released they turned to face the array of people with open arms, a showcase of who would coax this city back to a title of exaltation and prestige. Nikostratos was a man of appearance, and it showed on him. his face was strong, angular, the face of a leader. Pursed lips peeled back into a white-tooth grin. Medium-brown eyes sitting upon high, structured cheek bones, and his entire face pooled around by a brown mane that flowed like silk to the base of his neck. On his person he wore elaborate armor in colors of power and royalty. A silver Cuirass trimmed with gold and white and brilliant hues of blue, the symbol of Zeus engraved boldly in the center of the molded chest plate. Upon his feet he wore leather sandals of the most beautiful ivory color which wrapped up his muscular calves in securment. Upon his waist, a falcata of golden hilt and a blade of clear crystal, not unlike diamondA gift from the gods during his training. Taken together, this was a titan to behold, and behold him the crowd did. Shortly after, Nikostratos greeted the queen of the land in kind, lifting her hand up to his lips for a gentle kiss and a small exchange of words. Following her was the princess, who had in fact been promised to Niko should he so choose to take it up upon agreement with King Vincent. She was indeed an exquisite creature to behold. A beauty rivaling that of any delicate flower. Taking her hand, he kissed it lightly, his lips lingering a moment before pulling away. My lady. His smile was half and devious, showing know true meaning of intent, but implying thoughts thereof.