[ID: A tweet thread vy Sean Kelly @/StorySlug that reads:
Something I think about a lot:
In Star Trek (2009) Spock Prime, who has accidentally traveled back in time 130 years into a parallel reality, hiding out in an ice cavern, accidentally runs into Jim Kirk and his first thought is, “How did you find me?”
Mind you, Spock hasn’t seen Jim in a hundred years.
In Spock’s reality, Jim died a hundred years ago during the christening of the Enterprise-B, and then again several decades later in events his acquaintance Jean-Luc Picard certainly told him about.
So in Spock’s life, Kirk is double-dead. And he knows he’s in a parallel universe, so reality isn’t progressing the way it did in his memories. The galaxy is branching out, becoming ever-more-different than the one he knew.
Spock is a man who values logic above all else, a man of science and intellect, and all of that combined and his first thought is still, in essence:
“I’m in my darkest hour, so of course Jim Kirk is here to save me. Or at least, to be with me:’
No entertaining “coincidence.”
The really interesting thing is, we have a second data point on this.
In “Relics,” the episode of TNG where they find Scotty trapped in a transporter buffer, Riker mentions he’s from the Enterprise.
Scotty responds, “I bet Jim Kirk got the ol’ girl out of mothballs to find me”
Scotty stood on the edge of a massive hole where the Enterprise-B’s hull used to be, staring into the void that claimed Jim Kirk. He was there the day he died. He knows that the Enterprise-A is a museum piece, that there have been other ships since then.
Now, in reality its because “Relics” aired long before “Star Trek: Generations,” and the writers didn’t yet know the fate of James T Kirk, or that Scotty would be there (most of his lines were originally intended for Spock, Chekov’s lines for McCoy).
But I like to think that, deep down, every crew member of the original Enterprise believed this, deep down. No matter where they went, what dangers they faced, how long they lived, in their darkest moments, they believed, “I bet Captain Kirk is going to show up to save me.”
Imagine how they held on, how they pushed themselves to be better, smarter, braver, because they believed that all they had to do to see another day was to hold out long enough for James T Kirk to find them.
That if they just kept moving, the Enterprise would warp in.
I don’t think this is unique to the original crew, either.
Worf once said to O'Brien that when he was aboard the Enterprise, he felt like they were the heroes of the old stories he learned as a boy, that there was no trial they could not face together.
A couple of years later, Worf is captaining the Defiant, getting ready to ram the thing into a Borg cube, when his helmsman says “Another ship is warping in… it’s the Enterprise!”
And the look on Worf’s face says it all: “Of course it is.”
To serve on the Enterprise - any Enterprise - is to believe in the Enterprise. To believe in the Captain. To believe in your friends.
Hang in there. Do your best. We’re coming to save you. End ID]
Under D&D rules, a dagger does 1d4 base damage. The average human has a Strength score of 10, adding no bonuses. Several of them, due to the military background of many, likely had strength or dexterity scores of 11-14. But only two or three, and quite a few would be frail with old age, sinking to 8-9 strength. All in all, we can only add a total of +1 damage per round from Brutus.
An estimate of sixty men were involved in Caesar’s actual murder. Not the wider conspiracy, but the stabbing.
Julius Caesar was a general, which is generally depicted as a 10th level fighter. Considering his above baseline constitution and dex, weakened by his probable history of malaria, epilepsy, and/or strokes (-1 dex modifier), and lack of armor at the time of the event, he would likely have something along the lines of AC 9 and 60 HP. The senators would likely hit him roughly 55% the time.
So the Roman senate had a damage-per-round of 66, more than enough to kill Caesar in one round even without factoring in surprise round advantage.
This is a great post, but unfortunately, its conclusion of 66 damage/round is slightly flawed – because this analysis doesn’t take positioning into account. Sixty men can’t all be within knife’s reach of Caesar at the same time; using a normal square grid, only eight Medium-sized combatants can fit in the 5-foot radius surrounding him (and a character can’t end their movement in another creature’s space). I’m sure you see the potential problem here:
5th Edition rules allow any character to break up movement on their turn, moving both before and after an attack. But even with this provision, moving through another character’s space still counts as
difficult terrain (requiring twice as much speed to traverse); if the whole Senate rushes in at once, it’s almost impossible for the innermost attackers to push their way back out after delivering their attack, and eventually the curia floor simply grows too clogged with people for everyone to take a stab at Caesar in one round.
It might be possible to deal all of that damage in a single round if the senators all gathered around Caesar in a tight semicircle formation first, attacking in waves from bottom to top. Assuming each senator delays his initiative in precisely the right order to execute a series of coordinated strikes, each row can dart in to stab the dictator and immediately dash out to make room for the row above, like so:
But given that this wasn’t a perfectly disciplined battalion of NINJA SENATORS, I expect that the murder instead involved a couple of sneak attacks followed by a confused stabby dogpile, and probably took quite a bit longer than one round.
y’all are forgetting the true meaning of the ides of march. today is not just about stabbing, it’s about the friendship, unity & coming together to stab in groups