In Fine, Solum Est Tibi (A Quest in Rome, During The Fall of the Republic)

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The Wealth and Power of the Nerva Domos:

Wealth: 26 Talents

Income from the Villa: 256 Denarii

Buildings of the Villa: The Domus (Main Domicile, Worth 260 Talents), Slave Quarters (Worth 200 Talents), Wine Vineyards (Worth 147 Talents on a bad year, 452 On a Bountiful Harvests), Wheat/Grain Fields(Various Wealth Status), Stables (Worth 100 Talents)

Land Held: 200 Acres (Worth 100 Talents, due to the Curse)

Slaves Owned: 103

Family/ Villa Debts: 1 Talent (The Last of the Payments for the Stables needs to be paid off)

Debts Owed to you: 0
 
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We could just turn our villa from agriculture to industry. We have a master blacksmith, get her a few apprentices to cope with her empty nest syndrome, hop onto the metal industry to fuel the Roman Military's ever hungry supply chain, or alternatively pop up a few windmills here and there and grind grain into dust to make the best god damn bread the romans have ever seen, they love that stuff, that and games.
 
WillfulTimes said:
We could just turn our villa from agriculture to industry. We have a master blacksmith, get her a few apprentices to cope with her empty nest syndrome, hop onto the metal industry to fuel the Roman Military's ever hungry supply chain, or alternatively pop up a few windmills here and there and grind grain into dust to make the best god damn bread the romans have ever seen, they love that stuff, that and games.
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Here is something to know:

You need money to build all that stuff, you need access to metal deposits, and need to make deals with people all over the place to make things happen...

Do you want to do something about it to make money and profit?

You're going to have to work for it.

Also, speaking of bread, the Millers brothers from Rome may have their start here, and soon, in a few years time, when things go well, you will have good roman bread, for True Romans.:V
 
Stories of the Father: The First Days of Mars (III)
  • Sidestory
    • Orion Ultor said:
    But, as it ever is with the gods as it is with mankind, this peace did not last, for neither were only made to toil this world alone.
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    Stories of the Father: The First Days of Mars (III)

    It is the first days of fall, and already she grumbles as she wraps her shawl that much tighter to herself to keep safe from the bite of aquilo, making her way towards the front of the wagon train. There, she finds her father bent over the architect's plans for the expanded vineyard and its cellar, clearly unhappy with something or other as he mutters dangerously under his breath.

    And that's before he takes a good look at her, and whereas his expression was merely overcast, there appears a full blown storm growing across his visage.

    "Tell me nothing but truth," his voice is calm but by the barest of margins, "Who?"

    "Does it matter pater?" you say stiffly, the taste of iron still yet pungent upon your lips, "They are certainly worse off than I?"

    His silence, however brief, is the only thing that warns her of her mistake, before he barks an order to one of the nearby servii- Brennus, she faintly recalled- to have a boulder removed by twilight and takes her by her arm, firmly yet gently. As they walk back to the villa, he stops by a copse of trees that are some fifteen paces from the eastern wall, and sits her on one of the stone seats that were littered throughout.

    "What does it matter daughter," he rumbles, silhouetted as he is against the hidden sun making him appear to her as a shadow of his more genial self, "when I am the one who must right your wrongs. Again I ask, who?"

    "Pater, I-" she attempts, stopping as she sees (difficult as it is with the sun behind him) his eyes narrow.

    "Thrice I ask daughter, and not once more. Who?"

    "Floriana and her friends," she whispers, looking away.

    "...the Marian girl?" He says in askance, and it's all she can do to nod without trembling.

    Silence hangs between them as a heavy blanket, before he turns from her a moment, then kneeling besides her takes her face gently in his hands as he begins wiping the blood and grime from her face.

    "Claudia, the words of one little girl, no matter her familia, mean nothing to me," he says in that voice that cuts her sharply, the disappointment palpable, "but the words of my own daughter mean everything, so why must you lie to me? Have I been a bad pat-"

    "No!" you cry, stricken to your heart as the tears that had once threatened to fall roll down your cheeks, "I did not mean to lie, I am the one who did you a disservice. I know you don't care, but I do. You are nothing if not kind and wise, and I am reckless and-"

    There was more that passed from your lips, but your ramblings were unceremonially silenced as your father brought you into his breast and just...held you a moment in a tight embrace; you remember not the duration, but it was once he pulls you away that you are relaxed.

    He sits beside you, a comforting presence as he unravels your hair from its untidy binds and begins to cleanse the wound upon your right temple and begins to once more recount the story of Mars.

    "It is in the midst of the Silver Age that Mars, then the least of the gods, learns and plys the trade of a farmer, growing all the crops needed to sustain Olympus. Of his siblings, it is he who works the hardest to ensure the prosperity of the realm, and the one to become their mediator in times of strife, most notably when he returns to his home and finds it covered in exquisite tapestries. Pondering their meaning, he takes them to his sister Bellona in askance and learns that, in his absence, she had challenged a slip of a girl, called Arachne, for daring to approach her in skill and had cursed her for her efforts.

    Mars was horrified to learn this, some having said he had been sweet on the girl before this and others that it was his strength of character, and took to learning the truth of the matter, taking the time to gather the various accounts of the many spectators to slowly unravel the heart of the matter.

    At first, all seems well until it is revealed that Arachne had surpassed Bellona Minerva in skill and woven tapestries of far greater quality and meaning than her own efforts,     despite having been the one to have mentored her in the craft; enraged, Bellona had taken it upon herself to punish Arachne for the crime of hubris and had turned her into the first spider...despite that doing so had been in clear violation of Bellona's own rules. Presenting the matter to his pater familias, Jupiter O. M., Bellona's guilt in the matter was swiftly determined but when the time came to unravel the curse placed upon Arachne, it was found that the curse's strength had long since cost the girl her life, having past on sometime prior to give birth to the first generation of spiders."

    It was then he pulled away, having looked over his work and found it satisfactory, standing to the fullness of his height and twisting his back this way, grunting as it cracked loudly. He turned to her and before he could even ask-

    "It is for this reason, and many others besides, that he earned the name Quirinus," she recited distantly, "And though other gods have lain claim to the title, it was by his action that had brought peace to not only his household but that of Arachne's, though it did little to help prevent the building tensions that led to the end of the Silver Age. If there was a lesson to depart, it is to beware the consequences of our actions, which for there are those that we cannot take back, and therefore act with forethought and justice in heart and mind."

    "Not quite in those words, but the sentiment is there," her father nodded somewhat sharply, his expression stony for a moment more, before a slow smile graced his lips, "So...they were worse off?"

    Her smirk was all the response she gave, resulting a boisterous chuckle from her father.
     
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  • Sidestory
    • Adhoc vote count started by Magoose on Apr 12, 2022 at 10:20 AM, finished with 217 posts and 51 votes.
    • 55
      [X] Plan: Roman Swords, Roman Gifts
      -[X] War: Your Father, despite his lack of a male heir, did not decide to put you down into the hallowed halls of womanly virtue as was expected of you. You were not one to stand at the feasts, and be a pretty face for those to ogle and gawk at. Instead, he trained you in the art of war, and War, as it turns out, as it had for him, went well with you. You learned how to shout above men in battle when your voice was nearly gone. You learned to ride a horse and lead men to die for you. It was not something you expected to be any good at, but you became a master at it.
      -[X] Speech: Words are Wind. That was what your father said when you were a child after you lied to him about stealing a sweet treat. That was when you learned the power of words, how they can shape perspective, they can shape everything from opinion to the will of men. You may not ever set foot in the Senate, but nothing matters. Words… Oratory is the most valuable skill that any man, any person can have in Rome. A speech said to the right people, given the right motivation, can shape a nation. Even a nation as rigid as Rome.
      -[X] The Gift of Mars: It is said that those who take to the art of war from a young age were blessed in the womb by Mars himself, as a gift for your Father's loyal duty to Him. You are one such, a prodigy of battle, capable of learning and absorbing new strategies and tactics, and quickly adapting them to match the actions of your foes.
      -[X] The Gift of Venus: You are beautiful, a thing sculpted as if from massy stone. Your skin is as pale and alluring as marble, free from all crack or blemish, like the very flesh of Venus herself. Your nose is as aquiline as the eagle's beak, your lips as wide and fair as his wings, and your eyes as proud and mighty as his own. Men and women alike look upon you with lust and envy, and your striking features have won you the hearts of many throughout the Roman countryside, and will surely do the same in Rome itself.
      [X] Plan Orator Oblitus [Speaker of the Forgotten]
      -[X] War: Your Father, despite his lack of a male heir, did not decide to put you down into the hallowed halls of womanly virtue as was expected of you. You were not one to stand at the feasts, and be a pretty face for those to ogle and gawk at. Instead, he trained you in the art of war, and War, as it turns out, as it had for him, went well with you. You learned how to shout above men in battle when your voice was nearly gone. You learned to ride a horse and lead men to die for you. It was not something you expected to be any good at, but you became a master at it.
      -[X] Law: Roman law is a complicated, tangled morass of bylaws and codas, less a legal system and more an inscrutable maze, the byproduct of three hundred years of plodding bureaucracy. Ever since you could walk, and talk, you found yourself in front of Roman Law books, looking through the loopholes and intricacies that are commonplace. How to find strengths and weaknesses in any argument involving the laws, including the peculiar situation that you find yourself in. The noblii see knowledge of the law as nothing short of essential, and the right case in the eyes of the Common man can make or break a political career.
      -[X] The Gift of Apollo: Words are like a hurricane, they can destroy you, or save you. That is what your father said to you before he died. To speak and to listen is something that you do obsessively. You are nothing short of a rabble-rouser, a loose cannon a fire that will light the great fire that is within Rome and cause it to burn to the ground, where you will be the master of it's ashes. The Senate views you, not only as a threat but as a truly dangerous voice to tradition and Roman Virtue. The Downtrodden, the Plebeians who have been lost and forgotten, even the slaves, who view you as the greatest master one could have. You are the future, some say. And everyone takes notice of the future.
      -[X]The Gift of Zagreus: You Will Fail. You will break down and be defeated. But that is not the end, merely another beginning to start again. In one story your mother told you, Zagreus wanted to meet his mother and had to fight through all of the Underworld to reach the surface, before being dragged back to the underworld. You Will Fail. But that does not mean you will fail forever.
      [X] Plan Words are Wind and we are the Storm
      -[X] Law: Roman law is a complicated, tangled morass of bylaws and codas, less a legal system and more an inscrutable maze, the byproduct of three hundred years of plodding bureaucracy. Ever since you could walk, and talk, you found yourself in front of Roman Law books, looking through the loopholes and intricacies that are commonplace. How to find strengths and weaknesses in any argument involving the laws, including the peculiar situation that you find yourself in. The noblii see knowledge of the law as nothing short of essential, and the right case in the eyes of the Common man can make or break a political career.
      -[X] Speech: Words are Wind. That was what your father said when you were a child after you lied to him about stealing a sweet treat. That was when you learned the power of words, how they can shape perspective, they can shape everything from opinion to the will of men. You may not ever set foot in the Senate, but nothing matters. Words… Oratory is the most valuable skill that any man, any person can have in Rome. A speech said to the right people, given the right motivation, can shape a nation. Even a nation as rigid as Rome.
      -[X] The Gift of Venus: You are beautiful, a thing sculpted as if from massy stone. Your skin is as pale and alluring as marble, free from all crack or blemish, like the very flesh of Venus herself. Your nose is as aquiline as the eagle's beak, your lips as wide and fair as his wings, and your eyes as proud and mighty as his own. Men and women alike look upon you with lust and envy, and your striking features have won you the hearts of many throughout the Roman countryside, and will surely do the same in Rome itself.
      -[X] The Gift of Apollo: Words are like a hurricane, they can destroy you, or save you. That is what your father said to you before he died. To speak and to listen is something that you do obsessively. You are nothing short of a rabble-rouser, a loose cannon a fire that will light the great fire that is within Rome and cause it to burn to the ground, where you will be the master of it's ashes. The Senate views you, not only as a threat but as a truly dangerous voice to tradition and Roman Virtue. The Downtrodden, the Plebeians who have been lost and forgotten, even the slaves, who view you as the greatest master one could have. You are the future, some say. And everyone takes notice of the future.
      [X] The Designated Protagonist
      [X] Minerva's Disciple
      [X] Plan: Roman Matron
      -[X] Speech: Words are Wind. That was what your father said when you were a child after you lied to him about stealing a sweet treat. That was when you learned the power of words, how they can shape perspective, they can shape everything from opinion to the will of men. You may not ever set foot in the Senate, but nothing matters. Words… Oratory is the most valuable skill that any man, any person can have in Rome. A speech said to the right people, given the right motivation, can shape a nation. Even a nation as rigid as Rome.
      -[X] Trade: Your Father's vineyards and wine production were never one to write home about, as many a year the wine barely paid for itself, with all that went into it, and Grain and Barely were seen as far more favorable investment. But on the rare year where he tried his hand at such investments and production, you were the one who led it into the city, and sold it to the wine merchants for profit. The merchant's life is not often sung in the tales, but it is one to which you are most suited, both in terms of practicality and just sheer competence. A coin can buy many things in Rome. It might not be glamorous as War or Law. But Gold Talks in ways that even honor cannot.
      -[X] The Gift of Apollo: Words are like a hurricane, they can destroy you, or save you. That is what your father said to you before he died. To speak and to listen is something that you do obsessively. You are nothing short of a rabble-rouser, a loose cannon a fire that will light the great fire that is within Rome and cause it to burn to the ground, where you will be the master of it's ashes. The Senate views you, not only as a threat but as a truly dangerous voice to tradition and Roman Virtue. The Downtrodden, the Plebeians who have been lost and forgotten, even the slaves, who view you as the greatest master one could have. You are the future, some say. And everyone takes notice of the future.
      -[X] The Gift of Venus: You are beautiful, a thing sculpted as if from massy stone. Your skin is as pale and alluring as marble, free from all crack or blemish, like the very flesh of Venus herself. Your nose is as aquiline as the eagle's beak, your lips as wide and fair as his wings, and your eyes as proud and mighty as his own. Men and women alike look upon you with lust and envy, and your striking features have won you the hearts of many throughout the Roman countryside, and will surely do the same in Rome itself.
      [X]Plan: Greek Heritage, Roman Heart
      -[X] War: Your Father, despite his lack of a male heir, did not decide to put you down into the hallowed halls of womanly virtue as was expected of you. You were not one to stand at the feasts, and be a pretty face for those to ogle and gawk at. Instead, he trained you in the art of war, and War, as it turns out, as it had for him, went well with you. You learned how to shout above men in battle when your voice was nearly gone. You learned to ride a horse and lead men to die for you. It was not something you expected to be any good at, but you became a master at it.
      -[X] Speech: Words are Wind. That was what your father said when you were a child after you lied to him about stealing a sweet treat. That was when you learned the power of words, how they can shape perspective, they can shape everything from opinion to the will of men. You may not ever set foot in the Senate, but nothing matters. Words… Oratory is the most valuable skill that any man, any person can have in Rome. A speech said to the right people, given the right motivation, can shape a nation. Even a nation as rigid as Rome.
      -[X] The Gift of Mars: It is said that those who take to the art of war from a young age were blessed in the womb by Mars himself, as a gift for your Father's loyal duty to Him. You are one such, a prodigy of battle, capable of learning and absorbing new strategies and tactics, and quickly adapting them to match the actions of your foes.
      -[X]The Gift of Zagreus: You Will Fail. You will break down and be defeated. But that is not the end, merely another beginning to start again. In one story your mother told you, Zagreus wanted to meet his mother and had to fight through all of the Underworld to reach the surface, before being dragged back to the underworld. You Will Fail. But that does not mean you will fail forever.
      [X] Aphrodite Areia
      [X] Plan Rome Reborn
      -[X] Law: Roman law is a complicated, tangled morass of bylaws and codas, less a legal system and more an inscrutable maze, the byproduct of three hundred years of plodding bureaucracy. Ever since you could walk, and talk, you found yourself in front of Roman Law books, looking through the loopholes and intricacies that are commonplace. How to find strengths and weaknesses in any argument involving the laws, including the peculiar situation that you find yourself in. The noblii see knowledge of the law as nothing short of essential, and the right case in the eyes of the Common man can make or break a political career.
      -[X]Architecture: You came to Rome a city as a city of Brick, and you will leave it a city of Marble. You have only one desire for your life. To build something, to see it conducted, and see it last a thousand years. That is what it meanest to give life to Rome.
      -[X] The Gift of Apollo: Words are like a hurricane, they can destroy you, or save you. That is what your father said to you before he died. To speak and to listen is something that you do obsessively. You are nothing short of a rabble-rouser, a loose cannon a fire that will light the great fire that is within Rome and cause it to burn to the ground, where you will be the master of it's ashes. The Senate views you, not only as a threat but as a truly dangerous voice to tradition and Roman Virtue. The Downtrodden, the Plebeians who have been lost and forgotten, even the slaves, who view you as the greatest master one could have. You are the future, some say. And everyone takes notice of the future.
      -[X]The Gift Of Hera: If there is one thing your mother gave you, it was her grace, her beauty, and above all else her patience. She reminded you that her homeland's gods were not. Hera was a cruel goddess, whose marriage was loveless and heartbroken. But it seems her curse would not follow you, as it seems in all your relations, you will find happiness. Bonds with the Family you chose to have around you.
      [X] Aphrodite Areia
      -[X] Speech: Words are Wind. That was what your father said when you were a child after you lied to him about stealing a sweet treat. That was when you learned the power of words, how they can shape perspective, they can shape everything from opinion to the will of men. You may not ever set foot in the Senate, but nothing matters. Words… Oratory is the most valuable skill that any man, any person can have in Rome. A speech said to the right people, given the right motivation, can shape a nation. Even a nation as rigid as Rome.
      -[X]Combat: War did not suit you. But in the end, you did prefer one thing that suited you in a way that would make the Gods themselves be thinking of their combative Sisters. With a Bow, a Javelin, a sword, a shield. You may not be a man, nor a gladiator, but what you desire, what you wish to do, is kill. And as much as you hate to admit it to anyone, most especially to yourself, you enjoy it a little.
      -[X] The Gift of Mars: It is said that those who take to the art of war from a young age were blessed in the womb by Mars himself, as a gift for your Father's loyal duty to Him. You are one such, a prodigy of battle, capable of learning and absorbing new strategies and tactics, and quickly adapting them to match the actions of your foes.
      -[X] The Gift of Venus: You are beautiful, a thing sculpted as if from massy stone. Your skin is as pale and alluring as marble, free from all crack or blemish, like the very flesh of Venus herself. Your nose is as aquiline as the eagle's beak, your lips as wide and fair as his wings, and your eyes as proud and mighty as his own. Men and women alike look upon you with lust and envy, and your striking features have won you the hearts of many throughout the Roman countryside, and will surely do the same in Rome itself.
      [X] The Designated Protagonist
      -[X] War: Your Father, despite his lack of a male heir, did not decide to put you down into the hallowed halls of womanly virtue as was expected of you. You were not one to stand at the feasts, and be a pretty face for those to ogle and gawk at. Instead, he trained you in the art of war, and War, as it turns out, as it had for him, went well with you. You learned how to shout above men in battle when your voice was nearly gone. You learned to ride a horse and lead men to die for you. It was not something you expected to be any good at, but you became a master at it.
      -[X] Speech: Words are Wind. That was what your father said when you were a child after you lied to him about stealing a sweet treat. That was when you learned the power of words, how they can shape perspective, they can shape everything from opinion to the will of men. You may not ever set foot in the Senate, but nothing matters. Words… Oratory is the most valuable skill that any man, any person can have in Rome. A speech said to the right people, given the right motivation, can shape a nation. Even a nation as rigid as Rome.
      -[X] The Gift of Fortuna: You are lucky. The Will of the world, fortune itself seems to fall upon you like tumblers in a lock, being opened by a key. Men who have tried to kill you fall in misfortune. Or treachery, turning on themselves before dying to your guards. Snakes that should have bitten you miss, or hit your clothes or sandals, their venomous bites. Games of Chance or merely games to win money. The Bets at the colosseum and the Circus Maximus are merely ways to get money to invest. And even the debts you owe, what little you do owe to your slaves and comrades, are nothing. It is as if a force you cannot control, but you feel as if you are a plaything, a whim to a much higher power.
      -[X]The Gift of Zagreus: You Will Fail. You will break down and be defeated. But that is not the end, merely another beginning to start again. In one story your mother told you, Zagreus wanted to meet his mother and had to fight through all of the Underworld to reach the surface, before being dragged back to the underworld. You Will Fail. But that does not mean you will fail forever.
      [X] To Build A New State
      -[X] Law: Roman law is a complicated, tangled morass of bylaws and codas, less a legal system and more an inscrutable maze, the byproduct of three hundred years of plodding bureaucracy. Ever since you could walk, and talk, you found yourself in front of Roman Law books, looking through the loopholes and intricacies that are commonplace. How to find strengths and weaknesses in any argument involving the laws, including the peculiar situation that you find yourself in. The noblii see knowledge of the law as nothing short of essential, and the right case in the eyes of the Common man can make or break a political career.
      -[X] Speech: Words are Wind. That was what your father said when you were a child after you lied to him about stealing a sweet treat. That was when you learned the power of words, how they can shape perspective, they can shape everything from opinion to the will of men. You may not ever set foot in the Senate, but nothing matters. Words… Oratory is the most valuable skill that any man, any person can have in Rome. A speech said to the right people, given the right motivation, can shape a nation. Even a nation as rigid as Rome.
      -[X] The Gift of Apollo: Words are like a hurricane, they can destroy you, or save you. That is what your father said to you before he died. To speak and to listen is something that you do obsessively. You are nothing short of a rabble-rouser, a loose cannon a fire that will light the great fire that is within Rome and cause it to burn to the ground, where you will be the master of it's ashes. The Senate views you, not only as a threat but as a truly dangerous voice to tradition and Roman Virtue. The Downtrodden, the Plebeians who have been lost and forgotten, even the slaves, who view you as the greatest master one could have. You are the future, some say. And everyone takes notice of the future.
      -[X] The Gift of Fortuna: You are lucky. The Will of the world, fortune itself seems to fall upon you like tumblers in a lock, being opened by a key. Men who have tried to kill you fall in misfortune. Or treachery, turning on themselves before dying to your guards. Snakes that should have bitten you miss, or hit your clothes or sandals, their venomous bites. Games of Chance or merely games to win money. The Bets at the colosseum and the Circus Maximus are merely ways to get money to invest. And even the debts you owe, what little you do owe to your slaves and comrades, are nothing. It is as if a force you cannot control, but you feel as if you are a plaything, a whim to a much higher power.
      [X] To Build A New State
      [X] Hot girl Shit
      [X] Hot girl Shit
      -[X]Combat: War did not suit you. But in the end, you did prefer one thing that suited you in a way that would make the Gods themselves be thinking of their combative Sisters. With a Bow, a Javelin, a sword, a shield. You may not be a man, nor a gladiator, but what you desire, what you wish to do, is kill. And as much as you hate to admit it to anyone, most especially to yourself, you enjoy it a little.
      -[X] Speech: Words are Wind. That was what your father said when you were a child after you lied to him about stealing a sweet treat. That was when you learned the power of words, how they can shape perspective, they can shape everything from opinion to the will of men. You may not ever set foot in the Senate, but nothing matters. Words… Oratory is the most valuable skill that any man, any person can have in Rome. A speech said to the right people, given the right motivation, can shape a nation. Even a nation as rigid as Rome.
      -[X] The Gift of Venus: You are beautiful, a thing sculpted as if from massy stone. Your skin is as pale and alluring as marble, free from all crack or blemish, like the very flesh of Venus herself. Your nose is as aquiline as the eagle's beak, your lips as wide and fair as his wings, and your eyes as proud and mighty as his own. Men and women alike look upon you with lust and envy, and your striking features have won you the hearts of many throughout the Roman countryside, and will surely do the same in Rome itself.
      -[X] The Gift of Fortuna: You are lucky. The Will of the world, fortune itself seems to fall upon you like tumblers in a lock, being opened by a key. Men who have tried to kill you fall in misfortune. Or treachery, turning on themselves before dying to your guards. Snakes that should have bitten you miss, or hit your clothes or sandals, their venomous bites. Games of Chance or merely games to win money. The Bets at the colosseum and the Circus Maximus are merely ways to get money to invest. And even the debts you owe, what little you do owe to your slaves and comrades, are nothing. It is as if a force you cannot control, but you feel as if you are a plaything, a whim to a much higher power.
      [x] Plan A Greater Egeria (War and Apollo)
      -[X] War: Your Father, despite his lack of a male heir, did not decide to put you down into the hallowed halls of womanly virtue as was expected of you. You were not one to stand at the feasts, and be a pretty face for those to ogle and gawk at. Instead, he trained you in the art of war, and War, as it turns out, as it had for him, went well with you. You learned how to shout above men in battle when your voice was nearly gone. You learned to ride a horse and lead men to die for you. It was not something you expected to be any good at, but you became a master at it.
      -[X] Law: Roman law is a complicated, tangled morass of bylaws and codas, less a legal system and more an inscrutable maze, the byproduct of three hundred years of plodding bureaucracy. Ever since you could walk, and talk, you found yourself in front of Roman Law books, looking through the loopholes and intricacies that are commonplace. How to find strengths and weaknesses in any argument involving the laws, including the peculiar situation that you find yourself in. The noblii see knowledge of the law as nothing short of essential, and the right case in the eyes of the Common man can make or break a political career.
      -[X] The Gift of Apollo: Words are like a hurricane, they can destroy you, or save you. That is what your father said to you before he died. To speak and to listen is something that you do obsessively. You are nothing short of a rabble-rouser, a loose cannon a fire that will light the great fire that is within Rome and cause it to burn to the ground, where you will be the master of it's ashes. The Senate views you, not only as a threat but as a truly dangerous voice to tradition and Roman Virtue. The Downtrodden, the Plebeians who have been lost and forgotten, even the slaves, who view you as the greatest master one could have. You are the future, some say. And everyone takes notice of the future.
      -[X] The Gift of Fortuna: You are lucky. The Will of the world, fortune itself seems to fall upon you like tumblers in a lock, being opened by a key. Men who have tried to kill you fall in misfortune. Or treachery, turning on themselves before dying to your guards. Snakes that should have bitten you miss, or hit your clothes or sandals, their venomous bites. Games of Chance or merely games to win money. The Bets at the colosseum and the Circus Maximus are merely ways to get money to invest. And even the debts you owe, what little you do owe to your slaves and comrades, are nothing. It is as if a force you cannot control, but you feel as if you are a plaything, a whim to a much higher power.
      [x] Plan A Greater Egeria (Speech and Mars)
      -[X] Law: Roman law is a complicated, tangled morass of bylaws and codas, less a legal system and more an inscrutable maze, the byproduct of three hundred years of plodding bureaucracy. Ever since you could walk, and talk, you found yourself in front of Roman Law books, looking through the loopholes and intricacies that are commonplace. How to find strengths and weaknesses in any argument involving the laws, including the peculiar situation that you find yourself in. The noblii see knowledge of the law as nothing short of essential, and the right case in the eyes of the Common man can make or break a political career.
      -[X] Speech: Words are Wind. That was what your father said when you were a child after you lied to him about stealing a sweet treat. That was when you learned the power of words, how they can shape perspective, they can shape everything from opinion to the will of men. You may not ever set foot in the Senate, but nothing matters. Words… Oratory is the most valuable skill that any man, any person can have in Rome. A speech said to the right people, given the right motivation, can shape a nation. Even a nation as rigid as Rome.
      -[X] The Gift of Mars: It is said that those who take to the art of war from a young age were blessed in the womb by Mars himself, as a gift for your Father's loyal duty to Him. You are one such, a prodigy of battle, capable of learning and absorbing new strategies and tactics, and quickly adapting them to match the actions of your foes.
      -[X] The Gift of Fortuna: You are lucky. The Will of the world, fortune itself seems to fall upon you like tumblers in a lock, being opened by a key. Men who have tried to kill you fall in misfortune. Or treachery, turning on themselves before dying to your guards. Snakes that should have bitten you miss, or hit your clothes or sandals, their venomous bites. Games of Chance or merely games to win money. The Bets at the colosseum and the Circus Maximus are merely ways to get money to invest. And even the debts you owe, what little you do owe to your slaves and comrades, are nothing. It is as if a force you cannot control, but you feel as if you are a plaything, a whim to a much higher power.
      [X] Minerva's Disciple
      -[X] War: Your Father, despite his lack of a male heir, did not decide to put you down into the hallowed halls of womanly virtue as was expected of you. You were not one to stand at the feasts, and be a pretty face for those to ogle and gawk at. Instead, he trained you in the art of war, and War, as it turns out, as it had for him, went well with you. You learned how to shout above men in battle when your voice was nearly gone. You learned to ride a horse and lead men to die for you. It was not something you expected to be any good at, but you became a master at it.
      -[X] Speech: Words are Wind. That was what your father said when you were a child after you lied to him about stealing a sweet treat. That was when you learned the power of words, how they can shape perspective, they can shape everything from opinion to the will of men. You may not ever set foot in the Senate, but nothing matters. Words… Oratory is the most valuable skill that any man, any person can have in Rome. A speech said to the right people, given the right motivation, can shape a nation. Even a nation as rigid as Rome.
      -[X] The Gift of Mars: It is said that those who take to the art of war from a young age were blessed in the womb by Mars himself, as a gift for your Father's loyal duty to Him. You are one such, a prodigy of battle, capable of learning and absorbing new strategies and tactics, and quickly adapting them to match the actions of your foes.
      -[X] The Gift of Bellona: Battle is what you live for. The battle is what you will die for. You are a master of fortune in fighting. Those who have seen you rip through a battlefield, be it a street or a war, say that it was like looking upon Bellona herself, the ancient goddess of war and destruction, come to earth in mortal flesh. While you draw breath with a blade in your hand, there is no man living that can face you alone.
      [X] Plan: Divinum Pulchritudo Sanguinis et Lapidis.
      -[X] Trade: Your Father's vineyards and wine production were never one to write home about, as many a year the wine barely paid for itself, with all that went into it, and Grain and Barely were seen as far more favorable investment. But on the rare year where he tried his hand at such investments and production, you were the one who led it into the city, and sold it to the wine merchants for profit. The merchant's life is not often sung in the tales, but it is one to which you are most suited, both in terms of practicality and just sheer competence. A coin can buy many things in Rome. It might not be glamorous as War or Law. But Gold Talks in ways that even honor cannot.
      -[X]Architecture: You came to Rome a city as a city of Brick, and you will leave it a city of Marble. You have only one desire for your life. To build something, to see it conducted, and see it last a thousand years. That is what it meanest to give life to Rome.
      -[X] The Gift of Venus: You are beautiful, a thing sculpted as if from massy stone. Your skin is as pale and alluring as marble, free from all crack or blemish, like the very flesh of Venus herself. Your nose is as aquiline as the eagle's beak, your lips as wide and fair as his wings, and your eyes as proud and mighty as his own. Men and women alike look upon you with lust and envy, and your striking features have won you the hearts of many throughout the Roman countryside, and will surely do the same in Rome itself.
      -[X] The Gift of Fortuna: You are lucky. The Will of the world, fortune itself seems to fall upon you like tumblers in a lock, being opened by a key. Men who have tried to kill you fall in misfortune. Or treachery, turning on themselves before dying to your guards. Snakes that should have bitten you miss, or hit your clothes or sandals, their venomous bites. Games of Chance or merely games to win money. The Bets at the colosseum and the Circus Maximus are merely ways to get money to invest. And even the debts you owe, what little you do owe to your slaves and comrades, are nothing. It is as if a force you cannot control, but you feel as if you are a plaything, a whim to a much higher power.
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    [X] Plan Orator Oblitus

    The day swiftly comes where the only laws that will matter are the ones we can make matter. For all that, I would like to champion the law. Hopefully we can do better than Sulla, and not merely delay the transition for a time. Also, hopefully we don't need to shatter the law to save it. Or butcher our opponents. SPQR!
     


    Let it be known that my dice are bipolar and batshit insane.

    And you are all at its mercy because dammit it is hilarious!
     
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    Immortal Lurker said:
    Meme prediction: This was a Carthage religion roll. Zombie Hannibal has come back for round three of the Punic wars.
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    No unfortunately it was for Mithridties somehow getting a little more strong and wiser and ingesting poisons.

    Hint, he's been smoking some of that burning bush and it makes him not only really calm to process his situation and make good decisions, but high. Really high.

    Yeah he's hooked on being stoned out of his mind but it somehow makes him less… crazy.

    Just a little bit. He is still a wee bit mad.
    Alexander Sturnn said:
    Round Four, you mean. Round Three already happened, and it left Carthage more then a little salty. :p
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    No Hannibal is not coming back for round 4.

    As much as he wants to.
     
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