Cursing, Cleon realises that he has a last chance to rescue his mother, as the slave seemingly did not go to meet the invaders. He runs through the corridor, hoping to catch up and deal with the kidnaper. If he does't catch her now, his only curse of action would be escape using secret corridors.
“At least it's not my insides showing. And some women say it's a nice ass.” Talpharos smirked, then grimaced as a jolt of pain shot through his body. “Healer first, I can get new clothes later. Which way?” He asked as he looked at Atalanta.
"Women with bad taste maybe. Kidding, I didn't look." Atalanta smirks. "Come on, lean on me - you'll be at my tender mercies." She ducks a little so he can put an arm around her neck, pulling him towards her lean body. She leads him to the edge of the city, to a shrine of Artemis. The structure is small - just four walls decorated with hunting motifs, a statue of the goddess, a table for offerings and a small space for worshippers to kneel in supplication. Gently, Atalanta moves the offerings off the table, and gestures for him to lie on it. Looking up at the statue of Artemis, Talpharos can feel the goddess' gaze hot on him, suspicious, but appraising.
(Sorry, I didn't write that properly - she went towards the soldiers.) Cleon sees as the armed hoplites and Egyptians part to let the slave through their ranks. There's only a few of them so far, so he can choose to pursue, or turn and head for the corridors.
(Happens) Cleon cursed. For a moment he considered cutting through the levies... but it would only delay him. Instead he made his way further down the corridors, to escape to the boat, his warriors had hopefully prepared and leave the city.
What few warriors remain loyal help cover Cleon on his way to a passage hidden behind a statue of his father, or at least the man he thought was his father. Feeling his way blindly through a dark stone corridor and nearly falling as he heads down a flight of stairs, he emerges in a small cave. Moving towards the mouth, he finds a beach on the opposite side of the island from the occupied dock, with a rowboat awaiting him.
Cleon after making sure that the people were his, he embarked on the boat and gave order to row to their ship - from there on... he would need to plan his return.
Being this close to Atalanta was nice and helped make the pain from his wounds a bit more bearable as the pair headed to their destination. Said destination turned out to be a shrine to Artemis, which was a small surprise – he had thought they were going to the shrine of Asclepius, like the group he had seen when he had first arrived in the city. Hopefully it was a good sign that they had come here instead... Talpharos took a look at the statue of the goddess, then lied down on the table as instructed and waited. He tried to relax and not to let the feeling of the goddess' gaze bother him.
A few servants accompany him, heaving as they row the boat away from Aigina and towards the nearest land in Attika. As the small craft makes its way through the water, unnoticed by the triremes that just conquered his home, Cleon looks into the waters. Despite the sun shining above, they're almost...black. Talpharos realises he's seeing the depths of Tartarus beneath the waves. Aigina is lost to you. But you can reclaim it. It will not be easy - more than one god aids your uncle, foreigners among them.
"You're a good shot." Atalanta praises him, as she rubs some cold salve on his ass that makes him shiver. "Oh, um..." She gulps as her hand slips towards his inner thigh. "S-Sorry about that. My lady taught me how to make this salve - it should have you up and running in a few hours. Itches like crazy, though."
Cleon frowned, but then he realised it wass god he was talking to. "Where should I go first?" He asked as he looked into the water's mirror, talking to his... father.
There was once a nymph on Aigina, who gave the island its name. Zeus took her for his pleasure, and left her on another island north of Attika as his prisoner before forgetting about her. You must find her - when she's on Aigina's soil, she will regain powers that will help you greatly. Afterwards, I will aid you in building your forces. The voice resounds in his head. Some of the men look in confusion at Cleon, but say nothing.
“Thanks.” Talpharos shivered from the unexpected cold before continuing. “It's alright, I can handle the itching. Just give me a moment to get used to the cold.” He told the huntress. Thankfully his earlier discussion with the queen had helped satisfy his lust for the most part, so it was easy to ignore Atalanta's touch – though if she took her time with the salve he would probably start getting aroused despite his attempts not to. “Let me know if you want to move my body in order to make it easier for you.”
"It's alright. I can manage." Atalanta says a little self consciously. "I think with you...we can actually take down that boar. Just with some planning first. Artemis willing." Talpharos feels said godess' gaze practically boring into his skull.
“I hope so.” Talpharos replied, while trying to ignore the goddess' gaze. Fortunately the feeling of Artemis watching him made it easier to focus and not let his mind wonder into... inappropriate ideas. “Last time I didn't really think about what I was doing, I was too focused on trying to save the woman. Having an actual plan for next time seems like a good idea.”
Cleon frowned... "Where... would I find this... Agina?" he paused. "And what would I need to free her?" He asked.
"Heh, so you're the hero type, huh? Or do you just save beautiful women?" Atalanta asks as she does her work, prying some wood splinters from his skin.
"The Isle of the Nymphs. It's a small isle, hidden by fog. Aigina cannot leave the island by choice, but your chains could pull her free. Beware, though..." The voice booms, as the boat glides through the dark waters. "The isle is guarded by satyrs, who take the nymphs as lovers and forbid them to leave. They're weak creatures, and not prone to violence, but they have many tricks, and some level of magic."
Celon frowned. As much as he wanted, sailing straight there without preparations was foolish. "Is there anyone who would aid me or advice me how to deal with satyrs... or a way to conunter their magics?"
"Satyrs, sire?" Oemachus, the oldest soldier in Cleon's retinue, asks. "Well, my cousin once had to deal with some satyrs in Boetia. He says they're prideful little bastards - one of 'em even challenged Apollo to a music match and got fried for it. Easiest way to trick 'em is to goad their ego into doing something they're not good at, like a fist fight. Their magic stops if you can hit 'em in the dick, too."
