IC Story Thread: The Call of Apollo

Delphi, the Center of the World!

What a thought to muse upon, as you sit and look upon the Omphalos - Gaea's navel. What a thought that Man is even able to stand here, on these primordial grounds!!

But here you stand...

The city is even more magnificent then you could have imagined. Mount Parnassus towering up into the clouds, behind it - the very home of the Muses and the pegasus, Bollerophon, right there! Sacred grounds to Apollo, Dionysus, Athena, and other gods, and for so many reasons. The birth-place of poetry and music, a sanctuary for satyrs and nymphs. The fertile valleys below... And Delphi itself, of course, the temples, the home to the Pythian games - the celebration of Apollo's triumph over the serpentine dragon Python! None of this would be here without Apollo. Home to the legendary Oracle of Delphi, and many houses of thought and politics. This, the Center-of-Centers... of worship, and history, and heroes, and learning, and human triumph! ... And you are finally here...

Some traveled further than others perhaps, but for everyone it was a journey of some sort to get to Delphi. Physical, mental, spiritual. The reasons for coming to this hallowed place are as innumerable as it's wonders.

Now it is time to reflect upon why you have come.

It's a beautiful day as the four of you go about your lives in the city of Delphi. The air is warm, Helios is shining - only intermittently shaded by clouds - and when the cloud pass it is really just a passing, pleasant cooling... And it is on one such occasion, as clouds pass between the sun and the earth, that something peculiar happens.

As Capaneus stands pondering the wares of the food vendors... Pagoni marches beneath the arches of the Sanctuary of Apollo looking for opportunity... Charisteas stands before the Temple of Apollo itself... and Ageisdomas sits in the Hippodrome watching the events of the games... a strange wind - very out of place on this pleasant day - begins to whip around each of you! So fast is the breeze that it borders on violence, and as you twist about in the tiny tempest - untangling your clothes, sheltering your eyes from grit - that you end up oriented toward the Temple of Apollo at the heart of the Sanctuary... And it is there that something in the sky catches your eye...

There is a ray of light piercing the clouds - shimmering like the eyes of Aphrodite herself - and it looks as though it must certainly land upon the temple itself! Perhaps you glance about, wanting to share in the oddness and beauty of nature. But as you look about, not only do you find that no one else seems to have been disturbed by the wind, but no one else seems to notice the piercing light...

What a strange coincidence it must seem at first, but then something happens that can be no coincidence.

The voice you hear comes from nowhere... and yet everywhere... Come, hero... your People need you. Your Land needs you!

The terrace that the Temple sits upon is thronging with people. It is a main thoroughfare to the theatre, and the Hippodrome, a couple different markets, and from the east side of the city to the west, and of course to the many treasuries to the south. And although the clouds continue to move through the sky as you move toward the ray and the Temple, the ray of light itself seems to remain transfixed... until you reach the steps of the Temple and lose sight of it.



You arrive at the Temple via the pronaos - the portico - ooc: D. where there are people seated on the steps, and votives clustered around the columns, a temple-priest is greeting and speaking to people as they approach, and he smiles simply, nodding a small bow to each of you as you enter the cella - ooc: C. the main hall of worship. This grand room, in contrast to the crowding of the terrace outside, is very tranquil. There is a statue of Apollo set into the northern wall where a handful of people are gathered, waiting their turn to make an offering and to speak to the god. And there are also a few temple priests milling about the room, offering blessings, cleaning the floors and columns...



At first you're perhaps not sure what to do now that you are here, but soon you see - the ceiling of the temple has an opening to the sky above, and lo, the ray of light shines through it and lands at the darkened opening of a room, the adyton - the private chamber of the temple priests ooc: B., illuminating it in a strange glow...

As you stand before the illuminated passage, you notice there others standing before it... looking upon the piercing ray much as you are, this is the first time that you have seen anyone else who seemed to be able to see the divine signal.

Charisteas sees that indeed one of the protests has taken exception to Ageisdomas' presumption, and is heading this way, and about to speak up.

"Excuse me, sir! Stop! That is a private chamber!"

The Spartan proceeds, clearly completely unperturbed by the priest's warning, "I said...!", the man scrambles wildly, nearly falling down the short staircase in his haste to cut the group off, "...no one ... is allowed...", he pants in between words, his eyes showing something near panic.

But then the soft voice of a girl echoes from within the dark room, "Thassimus, it is alright."

The priest startles and spins, as if a pillar had collapsed behind him, and he peers into the darkness for just a moment. Then he looks back to the four, and their weapons, and he sputters, "B-b-buh... they are unbidden..."

"Thassimus... ...They were bidden."

The priest's mouth works soundlessly for a moment, as he continues to stare at you four, and then he just steps aside.

You enter into the room and the first thing you notice is that you are enveloped in both a humid steam and a cloyingly-sweet aroma, cut only slightly with wood-smoke and pine sap. And as your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can make out a couple of pedestals to your left and right of the door piled high with scrolls, in the back corners are a couple of smouldering braziers, and there is also a gold-inlaid wooden klinai - a lounging couch - off to one side. And in the center of it all is a young woman, shrouded in slate-dyed silk,



She is staring down into a silver bowl, and runs an index finger around it's rim delicately.