“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.”
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.
“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.
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?”