#daric

A bunch of rpf ships for u bc love is in the air!!

Honorable mentions that aren’t in the edit but I love them too:

Sardes, Darios I To Xerxes II, 485 To 420 BCE Silver Siglos Coin, Achaemenid Empire, Currency Daric, Numismatics, Antiquities, Collectibles

Here: https://www.etsy.com/AllureAuctioneers/listing/4411729360

Sardes, Darios I To Xerxes II, 485 To 420 BCE Silver Siglos Coin Type IIIb, Achaemenid Empire, Currency Daric. Coin Has Punching. Carradice Type IIIb, A/B Dimensions Diameter 19mm, Weight 5.46 Grams. All measurements are approximate. Obverse Persian king or hero right in kneeling position with quiver, holding a spear in his right hand and the bow with his left.

Reverse Incuse punch. Countermarks.

Daric vs Jalim

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Dar listened as Balathu and Kurum made their reports. It sounded like they both did well in scattering the Americans. Balathu lost track of one, though he did succeed in injuring the soldier first. Dar wasn't concerned as long as that missing soldier wasn't the leader. He would soon find out: according to the Ancient Ones, all the other Americans were accounted for. The two women were at the communication tower, two others were enjoying the cooler of beer Dar left in the woods, and two more were wandering around.

[Good work,] Dar praised them. He paused as he could hear the crashing of a body through the trees. [One of them is coming. Go, I'll take care of this.] The two Ancient Ones bowed to him and disappeared into the shadows.

Not a moment too soon: a male emerged from the woods, gasping for breath. His blond hair was disheveled and his fair cheeks flushed from exertion. He didn't look like a soldier which made Dar wonder if the Americans brought civilians with them. That wasn't in the plan, but then neither were the women. The American had his hand pressed against his right hip as he caught his breath. He noticed Dar and gave a relieved smile.

“Finally! Another human being.” Dar made a mental note to thank Salim for the English lessons later. “Please,” the American was saying, “do you know where there's shelter around here? There's someone chasing me.”

“Yes, there is shelter,” Dar nodded. “Come.” He led the American to the camp he set up for this purpose. The American looked relieved to see the tent and invited himself inside. Dar followed after him. “I am Dar,” he introduced. He didn't expect the name to be recognized on its own.

“Eric,” the other man returned. “Thanks for the help.” He sat down and rolled up his right pant leg. Dar watched in surprise as a metal prosthetic was exposed. “This damn thing,” Eric complained, pulling up the pant leg even more.

“What happened?” Dar asked.

“Pretty sure I fell or caught my foot on something one too many times.” That wasn't what Dar meant, but he didn't clarify. Eric unclasped the prosthetic with a sigh of relief. He slid the backpack he wore off his shoulders and dug around until he pulled out some wrappings.

Dar opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. The way Eric worked, he clearly lived with this limb for a while. He finished cleaning and rewrapping his limb, then started cleaning out the hollow space in the prosthetic.

“You are a long way from America,” Dar observed.

“Yeah.” Eric let out a weak laugh. “I haven't been home in about two years.”

“Me neither,” Dar agreed. “Longer.”

“You mean you've been surviving in this place with that creature for years?” Eric awed. Dar couldn't help the smug smile that crossed his lips. There was no need to explain he had some level of control over the Ancient Ones. “You must be tough.”

“Very.”

“Humble, too,” Eric teased. Dar's smile softened despite himself. He shook it off. Civilian or not, he couldn't let himself get friendly with this American.

– – –

There still wasn't any sign of that armored zombie, or whatever the hell that thing was. Salim must have thought them safe enough because he insisted on looking at Jason's wound. Jason didn't protest; his shoulder was throbbing and he could feel the blood had soaked through his shirt.

“May I?” Salim asked, nodding to the wound. Jason shrugged and held still as Salim examined the spot. “It doesn't look too bad,” he judged, “but we should still clean and bandage it.”

“Think I got some shit in my bag,” Jason mused. He dug around until he found some wrappings. It wasn't Joey's medical kit, but it would do. He hesitated for a moment, feeling his face get hot. It was stupid-- modesty went out the window in the army-- but he hadn't called any of the other guys “pretty”.

“I'll stand guard,” Salim offered. His eyes flicked over Jason almost shyly before turning away. That only made the blush on Jason's face worse. He quickly pulled off his shirt and dabbed at the wound.

“So...” Jason kept his eyes on the wound. “My face is pretty, huh?”

“I don't recall saying that,” Salim commented, glancing over his shoulder to smile at Jason. Their eyes met and Jason's insides did a giddy flip. Salim's eyes drifted down a little and then back up to Jason's face. “But if I did,” he resumed, “I don't know if I'd confine the description to just your face.”

“Bet you say that to all the stranded American soldiers,” Jason teased. Salim responded with a smile that warmed Jason down to his toes. He finished bandaging his wound and tugged his shirt back on. “I guess I wouldn't confine 'pretty' to just your face, either,” he admitted. That got Salim to smile a bit wider. The smile faded a bit after a moment.

“I hear you thinkin',” Jason prompted him.

“It's been a long time since I had anyone to talk to other than Dar,” Salim confessed with a sigh. “And I worry that you'll realize we're supposed to be enemies.”

“Think we got bigger things to worry about,” Jason pointed out. “Like that armored zombie thing.”

“Balathu,” Salim corrected, and Jason's eyebrows shot up. “His name is Balathu,” Salim went on. “There's another one, Kurum, running around terrorizing your companions. Dar found them when he was banished here. He sent them to torment you all after bringing down your helicopter.”

Jason didn't know what to say. Why did he feel so hurt and confused? He and Salim just met; they were strangers to each other. And yet flirting with him had come so naturally. He took his hat off and ran his fingers through his hair trying to sort out his thoughts and emotions.

“You see?” Salim gave him a sad smile. “We're enemies, Jason.”

– – –

Where the hell was he? Nick would swear he pointed himself in the direction Rachel should be, but he'd been walking around for hours since and hadn't come across anyone. He looked around hoping to see the tower and regain his bearings, but he couldn't even make that out anymore. On a whim he tried hailing someone over his radio. All he got was static.

“Shit,” he cursed. He was well and truly lost. The best thing he could do was find some sort of shelter and bunker down for the night. Nick walked on for a while longer. Then he started to hear... singing? He frowned and moved closer to the noise.

Joey and Merwin were sprawled against each other, crooning something with beers clasped in their hands. Nick wanted to be relieved to see they were both alive and unhurt, but he was too stunned by the presence of beer. Where the hell had they gotten it? There was a large cooler full of alcohol next to them. Nick didn't remember them taking any on the helicopter, so where did it come from?

“Joey, Merwin,” he spoke up. “What the hell?”

“Hey~ sergeant,” Merwin slurred. “C'mon and join the party.”

“Yeah, c'mon,” Joey agreed. “There's plenty to go 'round.” He emphasized this with another swig of his beer.

“No, thanks, man,” Nick answered with a shake of his head. “The others are waiting for us at the rendezvous point. Remember?” The two men thought about this for a moment and then went back to their drunken singing. They were too plastered to do much of anything, that was obvious enough.

Nick had to admit that sitting and drinking looked pretty damn good right about now. He'd been on his feet all day searching for Rachel and that tower. Taking a break for a few minutes wouldn't hurt. Joey and Merwin cheered for him when he sat down.

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed. “I'm just sitting down for a minute. Then you two are sobering up and we're moving the hell on.”