#ask-athreos

[drasthenes]

A aged voice enters your ears, chilling you to your core. "Playwright.. I shall give you the... Honor of going on a quest in my name.."

Filled with dread, Drasthenes utters a reply…

"What would you ask of me, lord of the last days?"

[drasthenes]

Hotel Athreos

Concierge: Welcome, darling. My, you're a beauty. (reaches out a skeletal hand) There, there, sweetheart, now, there's no need to cry . . .

Elspeth: (sniffing) Get your damn hands off me.

Concierge: (narrowing eyesockets) Oh, I see. Called before your time, were you? (checks clipboard) Yes, well, Erebos has a habit of pushing up reservation dates without notifying guests ahead of time . . .

Elspeth: Actually, it was I who notified him I'd be arriving early. So, can I get my key already?

Concierge: My dear, what's the rush? Here at Hotel Athreos, we have all the time in the Underworld! (chuckles) Oh, right. You're not in the mood for humor. Alright, my dear, this way. Let me get your things.

Elspeth: (growling) I don't have any things. The only thing I *did* have was lodged inside my living body by the almighty God of the Sun.

Concierge: . . . Well now, doesn't that sound unpleasant.

Elspeth: You could say that.

Concierge: (approaching desk) Miss Argentina, could you find the reservation for Miss Elspeth Tirel?

Receptionist: One moment please. (gesturing to counter) Help yourself to a cookie. They're complimentary.

Elspeth: No thanks.

Concierge: Well, if there's anything else you need, my darling, don't hesitate to ask. It will be my pleasure. You know where to find me! Ta-ta! (exits)

Elspeth: (to herself) What a dick. (to Receptionist) Could you do me a favor?

Receptionist: What's that, hon?

Elspeth: Could you look up the room number of a guest for me?

Receptionist: Sure. What's the name?

Elspeth: . . . Daxos . . .

Receptionist: One moment please. (flipping through papers) It looks like he checked out only yesterday. I'm sorry.

Elspeth: (sighing) Thank you.