The Third Life: Jake's Odyssey: Pt. 3

This story has hit quadruple digits in all categories, making it my overall most popular.

Backup Plan is still my favorite, though. Speaking of, I am feeling a little bit of fatigue with this fic. Undertaking Black Flag, leading into ACIII, while also dabbling in Odyssey was more than I thought it would be.

Anyway, I'm out of college now with a 4.0, and don't go back till the 22 of January 2019.

Hopefully, that means more updates.

Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or AC

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Inspired by historical events and an over-active imagination, this work of fiction was designed, developed and produced by a single-cultural team of one religious faith and belief, sexual orientation, and gender identity.

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Athens

Night

Kassandra finished her tasks, and remembered Jake's words: Find me when you're done. Use your eagle's vision.

"Well, Ikaros," the misthios said to herself, "let's see if we can find Jake of the West Indies."

The eagle screeched and took flight, gaining altitude by the second. Ikaros soared high above the city and started hovering, his eyes seeing things no two-legged stink-sack would ever see. With five times better vision than a human, the second fovea in his ocular structure, his eyesight was second only to the likes of Asteria. As such, and his innate nature of finding whatever the Hades it was that he was looking for, Ikaros located the strange two-legs that his master wanted.

The eagle shot back down to Kassandra, and screeched. He wasn't entirely sure himself how their bond worked, but it worked, and he got his neck stroked for his troubles.

"Thank you, Ikaros," Kassandra smiled.

SCREE

The eagle took flight once more.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jake was midway to the symposium, whistling "Running Down to Cuba," attracting many strange looks as the tune was unfamiliar to all that heard it. He doubted the body would be found any time soon, especially because he hid it, but he was certain that the body would eventually be found. It couldn't be helped, really, and there was nothing that could link him to the deed, anyway.

Perhaps with technological advancements in the 21st century, but not in the 4th century BCE.

Besides, even if they did link him to the murder, they'd have to come after him and subsequently subdue him, something that a small fleet of pirate hunters couldn't do, even with two man-o'-wars, three frigates, five brigs, and ten gunboats—the Running Frenchman was a bad son of a bitch—and even if they did subdue him, they'd have to haul him all the way back to Athens, keep in prisoner for trial, keep him under lock and key during the trial, and then make sure the execution or whatever sentence it may be was carried out without a hitch.

Not an easy task when one was supremely capable and competent, and had an entire devoted crew that was also capable and competent.

In short, Jake had no worries about murdering Kleon the Everyman.

His real concerns were about the leads he had gathered from Kleon the Everyman.

The Writhing Dread on the Island of Lesbos, a place with minotaur statues in Messara, and an island off the coast of Boeotia with loud sounds coming from it. The first place sounded like Medusa, or gorgons, or any snake-related thing from Greek mythology, and the second was clearly the Minotaur, and the third could literally be anything. Lots of things made loud sounds. There was also the object of distance, and location. Jake had not a clue as to where any of these places were, and so would need a map.

There was also his developing relationship was Kassandra.

She was a good woman, strong, smart, capable, a good head on her shoulders, a better eagle also on her shoulders, and she knew how to fight and how to navigate society. She had a good heart, going out of her way to help random people, for a price, of course, but still helping out, and she was devoted to eradicating a threat to the Greek world, this Cult of Kosmos.

Obviously a Templar precursor, if the ideals and artifacts were anything to go by, which made Jake wonder if that meant he and Kassandra were then precursor Assassins, as they had killed the precursor Templars.

That thought caused Jake to come to a complete halt in the middle of the street, whistle dying immediately. Suddenly, the massive ramifications of his actions in the past and what they could do to the future—his present—were brought to the forefront of his mind, and his thoughts became a whirlwind.

What if the future was the way it was because Jake had stayed his hand in most conflicts?

What if the future was the way it was because he had directly interfered with everything that he could?

What if by killing the Cult he set things in motion for the Templars and the Assassins to exist?

What if by killing Kassandra, he put an end to the Assassins?

Did any of this actually matter? Would the two sides still be born regardless of who died and who lived?

Would the future be any different based on what actions he took, and what actions he didn't take?

Or was the future already created, and would sort itself out on its own?

So many more questions floated through Jake's head at the speed of a cannon ball, and the possibilities brought forth with each possible answer made him experience vertigo. He almost fell where he stood, but he was caught from behind and saved from the public embarrassment.

"Jake!" Kassandra asked, concerned. "Jake, are you alright?"

"Oh good," the pirate muttered, "a distraction." He stood upright and dusted off his chest plate. "I am perfectly fine. A memory just went through my head about this time I watched a man get fucked in the ass by a goat walking on two legs. Very disturbing stuff."

Kassandra blinked. "Very disturbing indeed. Did this goat at least use olive oil?"

"No."

Jake wondered what the hell olive oil had to do with anything, but refrained from asking.

"So, Perikles' symposium, yes?"

"Yes," the mercenary nodded.

Not convinced at all with Jake's story about the two-legged goat, Kassandra lead the way to the symposium.

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When they got there, there was this person.

"Phoibe!" Kassandra exclaimed.

The girl's eyes lit up. "Kassandra! It's you!" Then she blinked. "Who's this guy?"

"This is Jake of the West Indies."

"The where?"

"Unimportant," the pirate said. "What is important is getting inside of this symposium thingy, and talking to Perikles about adult stuff. So, shoo."

Phoibe frowned at being treated as if she was nothing by the teen, and she looked to Kassandra for support.

The mercenary found herself at a crossroads, with two clear options before her:

[Side with Jake]

[Side with Phoibe]

Considering the nature of this event against the surprise reunion with her little friend, Kassandra broke for a middle ground.

"Jake's right, Phoibe. We have important things we need to take care of. After we're done though, you and I can catch up."

Phoibe brightened. "Okay!" she chirped, "but if you both are going inside, you need to change clothes, and leave your weapons."

The response was immediate and in perfect synch.

"Are you out of your little mind? No!"

An awkward silence broke out, with Kassandra and Jake sharing a look, and Phoibe's eyes darting between the two.

"Are you two…together?" she asked with a hint of suggestion.

"No," Kassandra said instantly. "I mean—yes, we're together, but not that kind of together. We're together—as in we're here, together, as in we're both here, side by side—but not like-"

Jake hit the back of her helmet. "Shut up before your mouth falls off." He turned to Phoibe. "Kassandra will be disrobing and giving up her weapons. I will not, and that is final." He turned to the mercenrary. "See you inside."

Jake vanished around the corner and out of sight.

"I think you made him mad," Phoibe said.

"No," Kassandra said distantly. "There's something on his mind that he won't tell me."

"Have you two…you know…" Phoibe made a hole with her pointer and thumb, and began moving her other finger in and out of that hole.

It was a testament to how comfortable Kassandra was with the topic of sex, because she did not blush or become embarrassed at the question, only shook her head. "Not yet," she said.

"Well you better hurry," Phoibe grinned. "I'm going to go after that myself."

Kassandra whacked the girl very hard upside the head.

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Jake was approached by Herodotus in the shadows of an overhang.

"Ah, Jake. You made it."

"Ah, Herodotus. I see you made it too."

The man shifted. "You are still bearing weapons and armor. This may make things more difficult."

"Hardly," Jake waved aside the concerns. "I don't know these people and they don't know me. In all honesty, this is going to be the only night we ever have contact, so making a lasting impression is pointless. Truth be told, I don't even know why I'm here. There's some other things I need to be doing."

"I see. Well, try not to make a scene, then. We don't need the guard performing any arrests with tensions in Athens so high."

"I'll do my best to play nice."

Herodotus nodded. He made to walk away, but he stopped as a thought struck him. "You seem like an educated man, Jake. How do you fair in the arena of philosophy?"

Jake had flashbacks to his conversations with Edward, Adéwalé, and Mary regarding the Assassins, Templars, and the intricate relationship between them. "Quite well, I think."

"I see. You see that man over there? That is Sokrates. He's-"

"I know damn well who he is. Herodotus, you have a wonderful evening."

As Jake walked off to engage in conversation with one of the most intellectual men in all of recorded history, Herodotus Was left grumbling.

"That is not how you pronounce my name."

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Jake interrupted the debate between Sokrates and whoever the hell this other guy was, just as it looked like a fist was about to fly.

"Greetings, gentlemen. I heard Sokrates was here, and I couldn't help but get some insight into his mind."

"And you are?" the guy that was not Sokrates asked, turning his nose up.

"The one with the swords and the knowledge of how to use them. Now scamper away and get drunk, before you embarrass yourself."

The guy humphed and left.

"Jake of the West Indies," the pirate introduced, hand outstretched.

The philosopher reached out and grasped the offered hand. "Sokrates. You wanted insight into my mind, yet you come from a land I've never heard of."

"There are lots of lands you've never heard of, and lots I haven't, either. However, even in the West Indies, the great philosopher Sokrates is a known name."

"How known?"

"Known enough that mentioning you is enough to start arguments that end with someone getting killed."

"Ah. Is it not interesting how people are so willing to kill others in their belief of what is and what is not right?"

"That is the essence of conflict," Jake answered. "Two or more parties willing to fight to the death for the right to claim correctness and validity."

"Then what of the conflict between a group of bandits on the side of the road attacking a passing troop of nobles?" Sokrates asked curiously.

"A different kind of conflict. Real conflict is of heated emotion and passion. A bandit attack is a bunch of people satisfying their personal interests."

"I see. Does that make the bandits more noble than the nobles, as where the nobles often engage in conversations of lies and boasts, and mince their words and check their language so as to keep up the image of dignity, all of them effective liars and deceivers, as opposed to a bandit who is true to himself in that he commits acts of violence against others for no higher purpose than drachmae and love of carnage?"

"Now that is a question that is answered based on perspective," Jake said. "One could argue that yes, a bandit is truly more noble because a bandit is simple, clear, to the point, and won't lie to you. A bandit operates on base motivation. On the other hand, one could just as easily argue that a noble is purer, because of blood, wealth, social status, deeds that have been performed, etcetera. It's all a matter of perspective, really."

"I see," Sokrates said. Truthfully, the man in the blue toga was impressed to meet a mind that could keep up with his own. "Then, as it's a matter of perspective, does that not mean that all matters and people, regardless of their good deeds and bad, are evil or just based on perspective?"

"Of course," Jake said. "Look at this war, for example. How many Spartan children curse Athenian names because it was Athenian soldiers that killed their fathers, brothers, and sons? How many Athenian children curse Spartan names for the same reason? So really, if the Spartans see the Athenians as evil for their deeds, and the Athenians see the Spartans as evil for their deeds, does that not mean that both sides are evil?"

"And does that not mean that both sides are heroes?" Sokrates asked. "If the children on the opposite side view the others as evil, then the children on the same side view theirs as heroes, no?"

"Agreed," Jake said. "War is an ugly thing, destroying families on all sides."

Sokrates nodded, eyes downcast and sullen at the reality of the world. But the philosopher perked up quickly. "Perhaps you can answer another question: would you agree that the act of ruling is an art?"

Jake hummed and tilted his head upward, the feather in his hat swaying.

"Is the act of ruling an art…well, that depends on you define art. If art is defined as the expression of one's inner feelings regarding anything, then no, ruling is not an art, for if a ruler rules by expressing their inner feelings, they are not truly ruling, as a real ruler sacrifices their feelings on a matter for the betterment of the people they rule, lest they find themselves in deep shit if they piss off the masses.

"If you define art as something intellectual, as a physical example of ability and prowess, then all things become art. A carpenter's creations are art, a painter's creations are art, a doctor's techniques and practices are art, soldier's ability with the sword and shield are art, an archer with the bow is an artist, a captain of a ship expresses art in commanding his sailors, and a ruler with their tongue and decrees is an artist."

"It's a matter of perspective, then?" Sokrates asked with a grin.

"All things are," Jake said.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kassandra talking with a woman, and his breath hitched in his throat at how absolutely stunning the mercenary was in that dress. Sokrates followed Jake's gaze.

"Ah. That is Aspasia. The woman speaking with her is a mercenary I met earlier this evening."

"Kassandra is her name…" Jake said distantly.

"I see you fancy her," Sokrates said with a tease in his voice.

Jake looked at him. "She's pretty, but not my type. Besides, I have commitments elsewhere, and a relationship between her and I would fuck a lot of things up."

Sokrates hummed. "I often say life's one true happiness is knowing yourself, but sometimes I wonder if knowing oneself brings happiness. I have enjoyed this conversation, Jake of the West Indies. I bid thee a good evening, and greater luck."

"Thanks."

Sokrates made his way over to join another circle of conversation, and Jake was left alone, staring at Kassandra. He sighed to himself.

Oh, sure, the misthios was a beautiful specimen, only a fool would deny that. Her looks alone were enough to garner the interest and attention of any sane man, and if you could handle her personality and job—which Jake could, since his spiritual big sister was James Kidd, ten times the devil his father, William Kidd, ever was—then you had a match to yourself made by God. The problem was that Jake belonged to the 18th century, with responsibilities and duties to the people of Nassau and the Pirate Confederacy, and Kassandra belonged to the 4th century BCE, as a misthios with no higher obligation than money, who had decided to take on a shadow organization for the betterment of the world at large.

However, like his conversation with Sokrates had pointed out, what was good and evil was determined by perspective, so who could really say if the Cult of Kosmos was really evil, since, after all, their end goal was an end to the Peloponnesian War and peace throughout Greece.

But like Al Mualim had said long ago…far into the future, regarding the Templars: "I do not despise their goal, I share it. I take issue with the means."

The subjugation of mankind, and the restriction of free will.

Granted, The Cult appeared to not have any knowledge regarding Pieces of Eden beyond those triangles, and Jake was kicking himself for not asking further about those triangles during his conversation with Kleon.

Hindsight was 20/20, after all.

So, in essence, the Cult of Kosmos was just your average, stereotypical, controls from the shadows, people in high and low places, evil organization. When Jake thought of them like that, suddenly the gravity of the Cult lessened to almost nonexistence, and they became something more of a nuisance.

Speaking of the Cult…

"Are there any members here…?" Jake muttered.

Eagle Vision activated, and only one person in the whole of the congregation glowed bright gold.

Jake shut off his sixth sense. "Well, that's just unfortunate. And Kassandra seems to be making friends with her."

The pirate approached the two women, and he was figuring out whether to crash the party or play it cool.

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Kassandra felt a level of gratitude she hadn't felt since Markos, not that she would ever tell the man she was grateful to him for anything given his nature of lording things over people in exchange for favors and services.

Aspasia had proven to be a trove of knowledge and helpfulness, confirming Kassandra's investigation into the whereabouts of her mother, Myrrine, by confirming Hippokrates in Argos and Alkibiades' information regarding a woman in Korinth named Anthousa. Not only that, but Aspasia had offered her own lead, a woman named Xenia in Keos.

"When you're done, return here," Aspasia said. "Together, we'll find who you're looking for. Now do me a favor and get Perikles to come down here and greet his quests."

"Oh, why not let the man alone," a voice cut in.

Both women turned to the speaker, and Kassandra's face lit up. "Ah, Jake! Aspasia, this is my friend, Jake of the West Indies."

Aspasia nodded. "I have heard of the strange young man roaming the streets of Athens. Pleased to meet you, Jake of the West Indies."

"I'd say the same, but I don't know you."

"Jake," Kassandra said, "this is Aspasia."

Silence hung in the air between the three of them.

"…and?" Jake prompted. "You say that like it's supposed to make mud into water." Kassandra opened her mouth to elaborate, but Jake cut her off. "Actually, how about you go and get Perikles, and Aspasia can introduce herself."

The misthios looked like she had been slapped with someone's intestinal tract, and considering the nature of the misthios, her being struck in such a manner was grounds for a lethal retaliation. Yeah, Kassandra didn't look happy about being shooed away, and there seemed to be an underlying feeling as well.

Jake couldn't tell if it was jealousy or hurt, but it twisted his insides at being looked upon like that.

"Kassandra," Aspasia said lightly. The misthios looked at her, and the Athenian woman made a movement with her head. Kassandra gave Jake one last withering look, and left.

"That was not a very nice-"

"Shut the fuck up before I run you through like I did the Hydra," Jake said seriously, not a hint of humor anywhere.

Aspasia visibly gulped.

"I know who you are, Ghost of Kosmos. I know you lead the Cult, and have managed to get a lot of people in a lot of influential places, effectively controlling the war and manipulating it to your end. What I don't know is your motives and I don't care, so don't bother telling me. I also don't know what you're trying to do with Kassandra.

"Either you're trying to get into her head, laying the groundwork for convincing her to join the Cult along with her brother Deimos, leading up to the big reveal and hoping you've got enough standing with her that she won't immediately remove your head, or you're trying to lead her into a trap that'll result either in her capture and subsequent brainwashing or death, or you're just trying to get your hands into her pants…under her skirt. You Greeks are weird like that. Whatever the fuck you're trying to do, if it's going to hurt Kassandra, I will personally come after you, and keelhaul you."

Aspasia did not know what keelhauling was, but the severity by which Jake said it belayed a terrible fate.

For those that don't know what keelhauling is, it's the practice of tying someone up and dragging them under a boat, and in the time that it was used, the bottoms of ships were covered in very sharp, very unforgiving creatures called barnacles. So, if you didn't drown, you were sliced to ribbons.

"Personally, I've never keelhauled someone before, and I've never seen it done, but…" Jake trailed off. The pirate's eyes gleamed maniacally, and he began chuckling in a way that had Aspasia's skin crawling.

As the Ghost of Kosmos slowly walked away, Jake's laughter seemed to echo throughout all of Athens.

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After the symposium more or less ended, at least for Kassandra's worries, the misthios made her quiet exit back in full regalia. She found Jake waiting outside in a private setting, and immediately she scowled, still very displeased at being dismissed like a common servant. She stormed over to the pirate, intent on letting him know her mind, but the air around him took the wind from her sails.

He seemed melancholy, and it was hard to be mad at someone when they were vulnerable in such a way.

Still, the fires might have been cooled, but they were not extinguished.

"What are you on about?" Kassandra asked, an edge to her tone.

Jake exhaled and looked at her. "I'm sorry for what I did to you."

"Oh, so just because you're sorry for something that means forgiveness is yours?"

Jake looked back to the horizon. "You misunderstand what I'm sorry for. Stay away from Aspasia. Getting closer to her is going to hurt down the line."

Kassandra's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you're probably going to kill her."

"Why? Because she's an Athenian politician and someone will put a reward out for her head?"

Instead of sounding heated, Kassandra actually was curious as to whether someone would do that.

"Well, that is a possibility," Jake conceded, "but not what I'm hinting at. Think about this: other than for a sack of coins, why would you deliberately kill someone, given your profession?"

Kassandra thought about all the reasons she would kill someone for a cause beyond drachmae. "If they're a mercenary trying to kill me, a soldier of Athens or Sparta on the battlefield, a soldier of either if I get spotted in any of their camps or forts and a skirmish breaks out, bandits attacking me, Followers of Ares, the Daughters of Artemis don't like it when I'm in their camps, uh…"

Kassandra looked up in thought, and therefore missed the flabbergasted look on Jake's face.

"Oh! And if they're members of the Cult of Kosmos," the misthios finished proudly.

"And of all the above, which ones do Aspasia clearly not fall under?"

Kassandra thought about it. The politician obviously wasn't a soldier, nor was she a bandit or a mercenary, and she seemingly lacked the bloodthirstiness of a Follower of Ares and the desire for wilderness that was found in the Daughters of Artemis…all of that checked off the majority of the list, leaving only one option, but there was just no way.

"Are you saying Aspasia is a member of the Cult?"

"If I said yes, would you believe me?"

"I would demand proof!" Kassandra said loudly.

Aspasia had a way with words, and her way had gotten into the eagle-bearer's head. The woman's standing with Phoibe also earned her several large brownie points, along with additional brownie points for being so helpful and friendly in the search for Myrrine.

Jake snorted. "In our line of work, we don't need proof, but hey," the pirate shrugged, "believe me, don't believe me, it really doesn't matter in the long run. What does matter is what we do now."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you have leads you need to follow in regards to your mother, and I have leads to follow in regards to finding what I'm looking for."

Kassandra raised a brow. "The thing you're looking for as in the thing you're looking for that the Cult might have knowledge about?"

"Yes."

"Oh, and I guess you interrogated Aspasia and she gave you these leads, yes?"

"No. Kleon."

"Oh, Kle—wait, Kleon is a Cultist?"

"Was a Cultist. Like I told you, organizations like the one we're dealing with want people in high places."

Kassandra blinked. "Was?"

"What else could that possibly mean, Kassandra?"

"…you killed Kleon, one of the most prolific men in all of Athens…without anyone knowing about it…"

"I have skills," Jake boasted.

Kassandra bobbed her head from side to side in that "Yeah, you do and I can't really argue that" kind of way. "So, Kleon was a Cultist, and he gave you information about what you're seeking."

"Mm-hm, and you got information on what you're seeking."

"Well, where do you need to go?" Kassandra asked.

She didn't sound too happy about them going separate ways.

"The Isle of Thisvi, off the coast of Boeotia-"

"I've been there!" Kassandra said. "Strange stone, a loud grunt coming from the other side. I can take you."

Jake gave her a sideways glance. "Thanks. There's also something going on in Lesbos and Messara."

"There are Cultists in both places. We can go there together, and help each other out."

"And I suppose this is before or after you go looking for your mother?"

Kassandra waivered, and then a question popped into her head. "Why are you in such a hurry to find whatever it is you're looking for?"

"Because, I-"

Jake stopped.

Why was he in such a hurry? Was time in even moving parallel? Was a day here a day in the future? If he spent a year here in the past, and then went back to the future, would he arrive a year ahead of when he left? Hell, if he did go back to the future, would he even be back during the 1700s, or would he get dropped off somewhere further, or somewhere before?

All this time, Jake was in the firm mind that time was moving as fast then as it was now. A day that passed here was a day that passed in the future, and finding an Apple and getting it to work would drop him back off at the same place he and his crew vanished, just however long it was that they had spent in the past, forward.

However, if none of that was the case, as this was 430 BCE, meaning the events of the 1700s were very far away, then all of that time was frozen as it hadn't happened yet, and there were no worries about popping back up in the future to find so much time had passed.

Still, there was the concern of an Apple not putting Jake back in 1716, and what of the crew? Some of them had families in the West Indies, some had families back in England and Spain that they wanted to see again, and bring money too. How selfish would it be of Jake to not hurry and accommodate the homesickness of his crew, to completely screw them over and make them wait indefinitely until he decided he was done gallivanting through Greece?

"Because, Kassandra, I have a duty to my crew. A duty to make sure their needs are met at all times, and their wants are catered to within reason. Finding what I'm looking for as soon as I can is the responsible thing to do."

"I…I see…" Kassandra said.

On the inside, she was impressed, her respect for Jake climbing at the declaration of his devotion to his crew. Also on the inside, she was hurting just a little.

"Is this goodbye, then?"

"Not forever," Jake said, though even as he said it, he wasn't sure if that was the truth. "It's a small world, and we're clearly going to be travelling a lot. We're bound to cross paths again."

Silence fell between them.

"Why does this hurt?" Kassandra asked. "We've spent less than a day together and I feel like I've known you all my life."

Jake felt the same. Kassandra reminded him so much of Mary that it made his heart twist, which was really bad because Mary was his big sister.

The pirate looked down when the nerves in his hand fired, and he saw Kassandra slipping her hand into his. "This feels too fast," he said.

The misthios gave a sideways grin. "I've gone faster, but I can go slower if you like."

Jake's heart started hammering against his chest, the mounting prospect of what was before him bringing out anticipation and nervousness. "Is this really…are we really…are you seriously…do you really…"

Kassandra kissed him full on the mouth, and broke away after a few moments. "Something to remember me by if we never meet again."

She kissed him again, and Jake kissed back.

That night, as the moon became hidden behind dark clouds, the reincarnation of Faris Ibn-La'Ahad and Vergil Cavaliere took his place among men.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Yes, they had sex. Was it rushed? Maybe, but how fast were all the other romance options? Like, you meet someone, a few flirtatious lines—sometimes just one—and boom. In their pants.

Or up their skirt.

Anyway, does anyone know anything about the Olouros Fortress thing not completing? Anyone?

Jake will be doing the Pythagoras questline, obviously, so more combat, and more epic battles ahead. I'm going to have fun with this.

Fav, Follow, and Review!