Well, fancy seeing you here. I’m Caerus, and this here is my scribe. I have been hiding out wherever illegal gambling and shady dealings are to be had. I revel in strife and the despair of mortals and immortals alike. However, lately there have been strange dealings in my neck of the woods. That, coupled with a letter from home, has led me down an interesting pathway that may lead to my return to Olympus. Who knows? I might get up to a fair bit of mischief along the way as well.
At last, I come to the black book with gold-embossed letters that spell out Myths and Monsters of the Ancient World. I open it up and peruse the pages. Gorgons, Minotaur, Sphinx, and all the other usual suspects littered the pages. “Which one of you is the cause of all this trouble?”
“Sorry, Davy Jones, but I don’t walk through strange portals at the behest of a servant of an ancient monster, that may or may not exist. Just give me the address and I can…” Before I can finish my thought, an immense force sucks me through the portal. I land face first on cold, hard cement.
I curse Morrigan for forcing my hand and slowly start pulling. The tube makes a squishing sound as I pull it out of her. Ichor splashes me and falls down my face as I repeat the process over and over again. By the tenth cable, I realize the ichor is dripping from my chin, and is mixed with a stream of liquid that appears to be coming from my eyes.
“It was three thousand years ago. I was naked, Dad pissed me off, so I sprinted across the sea to a place named Carthage. Ended up over tilting the scales of some guy named Hannibal, who went on to make something of a name for himself. After that, it’s been a blur of booze and booty.”