The handsome stranger in the crowd was not only beautiful and alluring but incredibly well spoken, too. A grin lingered on Maximus' face, visible beneath the thick bright red beard that decorated his sun-kissed features long after the man was finished speaking. "Lovely," Maximus whispered in reply, his deep steel gray eyes holding the man's gaze for a moment longer before he continued, using the man's opinions as a springboard to launch himself into a lecture about the gods, their wills, and how human beings could never begin to understand anything the gods did regardless of what the old myths said. The gods were unknowable, their minds beyond anything human beings were capable of comprehending, and our efforts to grasp at meaning were futile. More murmurs, more occasional nods, more mutterings. It seemed everyone in the crowd had an opinion, something to say about the wanderer Maximus and his ideas. The crowd was used to strangers passing through the agora and making speeches on the steps, but Maximus was an odd one, overly passionate and filled to the brim with ideas that challenged the status quo. Nothing too alarming. Yet.<br/><br/>Eventually, the crowds thinned, and by the time Maximus had finished, only a handful of individuals were left. The sun was setting on the market and the wanderer sighed, kneeling down on the stone steps and swinging his animal skins around. The bread in his pack was stale, but it was all he had and better than nothing. A few coins jingled as he dug through his pack. Enough to purchase some more crumbs before moving on. He took a long drink of water from his skin, noting how light it was beginning to feel. Surely there was a well somewhere close he could use to refill.<br/><br/>The rain was drizzling down on him now, already beginning to soak through his dirty clothes. His travels had been extensive, many miles had been walked and though the bottoms of his feet were tough and strong, he was tired, and the soles of his sandals were beginning to wear out. He was used to the constant moving. He even enjoyed it for the most part, but there were times when he simply wanted to rest, to lie has weary head down upon a soft bit of cloth and sleep without worry of where his next meal was going to come from. But today had gone well, so he had no reason to complain.<br/><br/>Maximus hadn't noticed Ajax approaching him on the steps and wore a surprised but interested look on his face as he turned and stood to meet the stranger. It was the same beauty from earlier; he had stayed throughout the entirety of Maximus' speeches, looking upon him with dark, soulful eyes. He was even lovelier up close. Maximus reached out to touch his hand with his own. The wanderer's palms were rough, covered with callouses and more callouses, as though he had been worked hard his entire life. Where the damp fabric draped off of his body and revealed his slightly burnt skin, scars could be seen, lining the entirety of his exposed flesh. Line on top of line on top of line, as if he had been sliced repeatedly, unforgivingly. They scars were pale, obviously old.<br/><br/>"Ajax..." Maximus said softly, the name sizzling off of his tongue. "What a joy. You may call me Maximus." The wanderer didn't offer Ajax a surname. He didn't have one. Or, if he did, he had forgotten it long ago.<br/><br/>"I'm afraid I'm unworthy of such generosity, though your offer of bread and wine is a difficult one to resist." His eyes looked Ajax up and down. He looked clean, well-fed, but not overly dressed. A merchant, perhaps? Well off, but not extravagantly wealthy. "I admit, I have traveled many miles, and my legs are tired from the trek. The opportunity to drink and indulge in good company... Dionysus would never forgive me if I were to refuse." Maximus smiled at Ajax, his gaze lingering on the young man a moment longer before gathering up his few belongings.<br/><br/>"Please, friend, lead me to this wine, bread, and bath you speak of. I will follow you eagerly."