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

Created
Status
Ongoing
Watchers
210
Recent readers
0
Threadmarks
83
During a Crisis, many will see you as a Hero
Many will see you as nothing more than an ambitious conquerer
A Destroyer of the Republic, or its Savior.
It Matters little.
In the end, all that matters, perhaps the only thing that matters...
Is the Choices you Make.
The Republic and its institutions will die.
What replaces them, however, is entirely up to you.
If you Survive of Course.​
Threadmarks Sidestory Apocrypha Informational Voting
View content
0.0: In the World, Sits Rome.
  • View content
    • Magoose

    Magoose

    SV's Questing Fanatic
    Location
    California USA
    Pronouns
    He
    100 B.C.E

    Rome, once an insignificant city-state on the Italian peninsula, a place insignificant in historical records, has clawed, through the will of its leaders, its senate, its people, to the height of its grandeur, its power, and its international influence. It stands, in the eyes of its leaders, and to many of its enemies uncontested in the West. For nearly a century since the defeat of her archenemy Carthage, and her greatest leader, Hannibal, the might of Rome has been unquestioned on land or sea, as city-state after city-state crumbles before the legions' unrelenting tide.

    Her reach stretches from the shores of Greece to the deserts of the Levant, and there is no power in the West that might hope to stand against The Republic.

    But not all is well within Rome. But like all great civilizations, the Republics' greatest threats are not from without, but from within. Greed, lust, and power poison the hearts of its citizens, its leaders forget their oaths. Blood waters not the crops but the Streets of Rome with the iron of the fanatics, the foolhardy and the Ambitious.

    It was said of old that the house divided cannot stand, and yet again it is proved true.

    Italia burns.

    You are a child of Rome, raised in the looming shadow of the city now at war with itself. Your tutors, skilled men all, say you have the potential to be a Roman of no small worth, a figure who will shape the very history of the Republic itself.

    But to be a powerbroker of note in the Republic is no small task. To simply survive in Rome, you must discard what you think is good and virtuous, you need to not have the skill, but cunning, brains yet brawn. You need to become something more than a person in this city. You must become a Legend.

    Trust is a commodity you cannot have, for your back will just be as exposed as any other. Friends can become enemies and an enemy can become the most steadfast of allies like a flicker of a candle, with the right words, the right promises, the right will.

    The Senators have long memories, and they will remember your trials and tribulations… and to the Masses of Rome, their minds are fickle and easy to be brought to the highest of heights or depths of hell itself!

    You must be as skilled on the podium as on the battlefield, you must balance love and hate in equal measure, you must watch your foes closely and your friends closer still.

    To misstep, to err, to fail is death. You will lose your wealth, your love, and your life. Your name will be ground into the dust by your enemies, and the crows will feast on your flesh just as others feat on your wealth. You will join countless thousands in the gutters of history, lost to time and memory in the growing shadow of Rome.

    To succeed is to rise above just the footnote of history, to tread the world beneath your feet as if you were Jupiter himself. It is to rub shoulders with titans and decide the fate of untold millions alive, and millions more yet to be born. It is to make your name a legend to outlast the very gods themselves. It is to become immortal, remembered in tongue and song for as long as men walk the earth.

    To Become a God, in a sense, for all of Mankind.

    In This Tale, This is How A Republic Dies.


    It Will be Up to You, To Mold What Replaces It.​
    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Alrighty everyone, let's talk about the brass tacts that seem to always come from me starting another quest.

    This quest was inspired and heavily influenced by, Res Publica, By @Telamon, if that wasn't obvious already. Just Like La Chanson. Along with @Teen Spirit's playthrough of Expeditions Rome, along with my own playthrough of the game, along with Battle Brothers.

    This is a quest, where you traverse one of the most dangerous and interesting periods in Western History, that being the Decline and Fall, and replacement, of the Roman Republic, and its transition into an Empire.

    Unfortunately, the Damage is done by the Merian and the Sulla's civil war, and the mounting problems that the Roman Government has not been able to address. With mounting corruption, military reforms, wealth and income inequality, and the degradation of Rome's Republican traditions due to the increasing autocratic tendencies and power brokers that are moving through the Republic.

    You are not the only person who has the dream of becoming a leader and a survivor of Rome's political machinations, and you will meet many of history's luckiest and unluckiest politicians, soldiers, and entertainers who have ever graced this cruel and unusual time period of change and chaos.

    Make no mistake, you are in a time where one mistake can possibly lead to your death, or loss of personal wealth and political power.

    But remember this one statement:

    In The End, There is Only You, and What You want. Will you save the Republic, or Damn It to becoming an Empire?​
     
  • View discussion
    • the MC/ And retinue.
  • View content
    • Claudia Nerva

    Titles: None

    Age: 17

    Height: 5'6

    Hometown: The Nerva Domus/ Estate, Outside of Rome

    Birthday: 15 March

    Religion: Roman Pantheon. Patron God: Mars, Venus

    Nicknames: None

    Allies: Sulla, Your Slaves, and Friends. There are many allies that see you as an asset, as well.

    Enemies: Gaius Marius, Many others who do not like you, that you know not?

    Public Reputation: 0 (A Woman of Virgin stock, of a Great legacy. What will life lead you down, to grace Rome, and her People?)

    Stats
    Composure: 18 (Life is full of suffering. That does not mean you have to let it define you. Let it make you stronger)
    Military: 25 (I know what makes people believe in the strength of Rome. The Legion is Immortal, and if you had the chance… would make it.)
    Charisma: 25 (Grasping, captivating, brilliant, clever, the words describe you as if you were a Goddess. They are wrong of course, you are mortal. But they don't know that)
    Decorum: 9 (Your Grasp at Decorum is sketchy at best)
    Stewardship: 7 (Like your father before you, you can't run a household worth a damn.)
    Intelligence: 25 (Minerva made flesh, that's what others call you, to your face, and your back)
    Subterfuge: 7 (Skullduggery never interested you, nor did you find it useful)

    Command Skills
    Command: 14 (The God's command that you lead, and you shall with vigor)
    Calvary Command: 17 (When the Cavalry come, it will bring cheers from the Men, and Terror from the Enemies)
    Infantry Command: 14 (When the Infantry hold, there will be victory. There will be greatness)
    Artillery Command: 6 (What the fuck is a Catapult?)
    Grand Strategy: 22 (No one is denied greatness, they merely lack the imagination to achieve it)

    Civil Skills:
    Engineering: 19 (You look at a city, and see not the people but the buildings, fire hazards… possibilities for only the imagination.)
    Education: 22 (Your Father believed illiteracy and Ignorance was a gross sin, worthy of the deepest pits of the Underworld. You believed in it.)
    Logistic: 11 (The Men can feed themselves right?)
    Manual Labor: 5 (You are a noble lady. Why the hell should you care about doing work yourself.)
    Law: 15 (The Law of Rome is a complicated beast, one that is entirely… understandable to you.)
    Administration: 6 (You are utterly hopeless at doing anything remotely good at governing a region)
    Ortation: 17 (You can captivate a crowd with words, and actions, and you know how to speak in the Official, roman manner)


    Combat Skills:
    Marksmanship: 10 (You were never that good with a javelin, but you are semi-competent with it)
    Swordsmanship: 25 (You are a demon with a blade, a lady of death that can cut down enemies with just a single swipe of the blade. Everyone in Rome, fears your reputation as a Bladeswoman)
    Athletics: 23 (Your father could not get a strong son, so instead, he got a strong daughter, one with little equal)
    Hand to Hand: 9 (You can't wrestle or fight to save your life.)
    Equestrian: 21 (In another life, you would have been born in the saddle. In this life you merely adopted it)

    Traits:

    War Born: Your Father taught you, despite your gender, to be a warrior and leader without peers. He wanted you to be strong, agile, and able to pass anything that comes to you, and you passed many of the Roman Legion's basic training when you were only a child of 9. As you grew older, with your formal education, you went marching and running with full gear of a legionary, ill-fitting as it was, and enjoyed the life that would never be given you.(You have an in-depth understanding of the Roman Legion, its military culture, and its structure. You have passed Roman Basic Training as a child, and as a teenager, you could be commanding a legion or more.)

    Silvertounged: You have been trained since birth that choosing the right words can defuse any situation, can bring people together, or tear them apart. You understand things that many people don't when you use words (You are a master at talking to people, and getting what you want. People in Rome know about that, and are thrilled to challenge you to a battle of wits)

    The Gift of Mars (Greater Blessing): 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. (Gain access to special tactics when leading battles. Certain actions will gain +10 to their rolls. When commanding an Army, can see a potential path to victory, that may come at a great personal cost.)

    The Gift of Venus (Average Blessing): 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. (Special actions are available for you to choose from. Certain actions will gain a +10 to rolls.)

    The Word Weaver (Myths): The Words of the world are woven by your careful hand. You write down many of the myths, the stories of your father and his fathers, into a tapestry not only of the Gods but on Man's Place within the many grateful worlds that it is lived by. The Stories and their author may last forever. (Can choose special actions when on adventures and in Rome. Learning about the myths on your travels, or telling the stories may lead to many good things happening. But beware, the Priests of Rome see your writing and telling of the stories... problematic, if you are too loud.)

    Retinue:
    Cossus Tettius Gallio.
    One of your Fathers eldest and most trusted comrades in the Legion, Both men have served together for nearly twenty years before your father retired, first to the Senate, then to his family.

    Cossus instead found luck and prominence, not as a politician, or in the Senate, as he despised politics and all who sought power in it, but as a lawyer and writer. He is considered one of the greatest in living memory and has spent much of his time, when not composing many of the contemporary histories about his own personal campaigns, he instead focused on your father, who was the subject of many stories and histories, with his missions and memories being popular tales among the elite and the roman plebians alike.

    Your father's reputation was secured by way of legacy and lies.

    But then again, Cossus believes that history is just lies agreed upon.

    A man of 45, he is a bachelor and unmarried and prefers to remain that way until he meets a woman that can match his wits with tact and grace.

    He currently lives in your villa, as an honored guest, and spends much of his days writing. Sometimes he can write three hundred scrolls in a month.

    He is so prolific in his writing, that there are men trying to get commissioners for their own stories.

    And there are many who wish for him to be killed for his truth does not fit the narrative.
    -----------------------------
    Fabia Ecdicia

    A teenager that ran away from her home to work for your father, from a Senatorial house no less. There was nothing about her that was amazing or important.

    Save for the simple fact she was pregnant, and that child was evidence to a grand conspiracy between her father, and his brothers, not only to murder each other, but to blame it on her, and the father of her unborn child.

    However, she escaped with the evidence of foul play and hid in your home. Offered herself as payment in exchange for her sons life. Your father did not use her as such, and she remains a free woman, working for your family as a hostess, and a highly skilled agent and spy.

    A woman of 18, she is a mother of one child, from a man she does not wish to reveal the identity of, for both his own safety and her honor, as she believes he will return to her soon.
    -----------------------------------------------
    Mettius Servilius Metellus

    A Centurian of the Roman Legions, and one of the more, colorful men your father made friends with his life. A born soldier, he is nevertheless obsessed with prophecy and fate and is deeply religious not only to Jupiter, but to many other foreign war gods he has come into contact with over his career.

    A Silly man perhaps, but there is nothing that this man would not do on the battlefield. Kill, destroy, and lead men with such conviction and grit that he could turn one hundred men into a thousand, and turn a thousand men, into, in the eyes of the enemy, a million.

    Currently, he is on leave, his legion having allowed him to return home to his family in Rome, but there is one thing he always, and always does when he is in Rome.

    He comes to visit his oldest friend and his family.

    A man of 30, he is the Prime Preaitorian of his legion and the highest-ranking and longest-serving centurion of his legion. There are many in Rome that want to make him a Legate, both to see support from the Marians wain and so that Sulla can have another key ally in the army.

    He is the father of 4 children, three sons, and one girl.
    ------------------------------------------------------
    Caius Spurius Polybius

    A Priest of Jupiter, and a man who has, for his entire life, been obsessed with the future, both of himself, and those around him. An Auger of great skill, he is known to, at least on reputation and his claims, see a potential for the future, and his prophecy has always been seen as good ordered, and accurate.

    As a priest, he dedicated his life to the Gods, and while he is no true roman soldier, he is known to travel far and wide to the legions, when called upon, to give council and see the signs of the gods.

    However, he has become friends and allies with your father, for numerous positions, and many think he wishes to become Pontifex Maximus, by any means nesseicery.

    But considering his religious duties, and the love that the troops and the People give him.

    However, Sulla considers him a threat, as he is an outspoken, and loud critic of his power grab, and he needs to retire from public life, him and Marius, if there will ever be peace in rome.

    A man of 36, he is childless, and has devoted his entire life to the gods, but if asked, he will help you out of a promise he made to your father.
    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Caepasia Furia

    A Plebian Woman and widower to a soldier and equitii that was under your father's command, and also, curiously enough, a blacksmith of some note.

    She was not a brilliant woman by any means, at least when you first met her, but she had an understanding of metalworking that few smiths ever had, and even with her sons taking over the business, or going off to join the army, to become equitii, and to become senators, or to survive long enough to get land for their retirement, and move her out so she can work without the busy hustle and bustle in Rome, or the insane work orders that she makes for Roman nobles and the legions themselves.

    She primarily is an armorer, with her sons being skilled swordsmiths.

    Your father was one of the earliest investors in her business, and now, her swords populate the legion and private buyers alike.

    She owes you much and is willing to work many favors to see her debt paid.

    A woman of 40, and the mother of 5 children. She is a smith of great renown, and wealthy enough to leave her home to commission, and to help you, if you help protect her sons.
     
    Last edited:
  • View discussion
    • 0.1: In the World, Sits A Child of Destiny
  • View content
    • When you were born, the night was filled with the death of stars and light, a moon that was full of the unbridled majesty of the great world and the heavens beyond, as if the Gods themselves were witnesses to your arrival onto this mortal plane.


    You are a Child of Middling status, hailing from the rolling Southern Peninsular countryside, a child from just beyond the old Magna Gracea Frontiers, the lands of your mothers family, prior to being of Roman countryside proper, our father, who hailed from these same hills, served in the legions in years long gone by, and, before his retirement to the hills of Italy, rose to the most august rank of Legate, commander of his own legion. Your Grandfather, according to the many stories, was an aide of Scipio Africanus, though the rumors are unfounded and hearsay. No man ever spoke of your family highly within the same breath as Scipio.


    In his youth, he won great wealth and glory in the distant fields of Greece, wealth with which he built a respectable estate for himself and his family. For years, he eked out a comfortable life amidst the hills of his childhood ---And then you were born, a child that would have the stars themselves.


    Who are you? The One whom Destiny calls?
    []Write in

    What will you Look Like, in the Future?:
    []Place image here

    And you Were His noble and True:
    []Son: Ah, a Gift from the Gods themselves, a man to carry on your Family's name and Legacy.

    []Daughter: The Gods cursed him for a time, with an only child being a daughter. But soon he forgot such majesties and treated you not as a girl, but as his heir.


    Were you an Only Child, or did you have siblings?:
    []You are an only child. The Gods cursed your Father, and thus, made you alone in your family name.
    []You have siblings: Your Mother survived your birth and gave your father more children (Will roll a d8 for the number of siblings that you have.)


    But Roman though you may be, not all are equal in Rome -- or rather, some are more equal than others. Rome is divided into the upper aristocratic class, the patricians, and the common class, the plebians. They are split like night and day, but the single similarity they share is that neither may serve on the Senate unless they are nobilis, descended from one who has previously sat on the Senate, or unless they have earned their way onto the Senate through sheer skill and prestige. In Rome, your class decides your name, your marriage, your duty -- your very life.


    []The Patrician You are a patrician, the true nobility of Rome, the upper class of the Republic. Yours is an ancient family, hailing back to the very founding of Rome itself, and some would say even older than that, following Aeneas, all the way from Troy. Once, your family had numerous branches across the Republic, and were respected and held in high regard by the people and the Senate of Rome alike. But one by one, your line died out and your name fell into disrepute, from the plague, from war to Hannibal's butchery of Canne massacring several lines all at once. The name you have quickly devolved from respect to something of the dredges of society becoming associated with flesh merchants and slavers. A member of your family has not held the Consulate, or even sat in the Senate, for well over a century. Your father, through his actions, has started well on the path to restoring the long-lost honor of your name, but with him dead, the legacy of your family rests upon your shoulders.

    []The Plebian You are a plebian, one of the common folk. Your family is a family of soldiers and has been for as far back as memory can reach. The most famous of your family, a respected hero Flavius, won laurels for his service in the Punic Wars against Carthage over a hundred years ago, and even rose to sit on the Senate. He rose through glory from his actions and deeds in service to the Republic, a soldier to the bone, and that legacy still runs in your family. His achievements were the very apex of your family name, and are the reason you can count yourselves among the nobilis of Rome, those authorized to sit on the Senate. His glory was a height your father strove to reach but could never match. As a soldier and a plebian alike, you will have more support among both the army and the people, facilitating a rise through the ranks of Roman government, but you will be looked down upon by the largely patrician Senatorial class -- the very class you seek to join.

    []The New Man Your father was the first of his name, gaining enough prestige and renown that his once plebian family has become part of the equitii, the aristocratic class of officers and cavalrymen. However, as no member of your family has ever sat in the Roman Senate, you are not considered nobilis, and as such, are looked down upon by both patricians and nobilis plebians. Yet Rome in her heart has always admired men of ambition and talent, as she always needed new Blood to weed out the week and the desperate. And those who come from nothing noble and yet manage to gain the prestige of the Senate are thus known as novus homo, or 'new men', and their families are automatically added to the ranks of the nobilis. Your path will be the hardest yet, but your rewards many -- for the new man, once he has risen, is held in higher esteem in Rome than the patrician and the plebian alike.

    AN: Enjoy, and Vote in Plan Format.
     
  • View discussion
    • Vote closed
  • View content
    • Scheduled vote count started by Magoose on Apr 6, 2022 at 9:46 AM, finished with 358 posts and 74 votes.
    • [X]Plan: Lone Wolf
      -[X] Claudia Nerva
      -[X]
      -[X]Daughter: The Gods cursed him for a time, with an only child being a daughter. But soon he forgot such majesties and treated you not as a girl, but as his heir.
      -[X]You are an only child. The Gods cursed your Father, and thus, made you alone in your family name.
      -[X]The Patrician You are a patrician, the true nobility of Rome, the upper class of the Republic. Yours is an ancient family, hailing back to the very founding of Rome itself, and some would say even older than that, following Aeneas, all the way from Troy. Once, your family had numerous branches across the Republic, and were respected and held in high regard by the people and the Senate of Rome alike. But one by one, your line died out and your name fell into disrepute, from the plague, from war to Hannibal's butchery of Canne massacring several lines all at once. The name you have quickly devolved from respect to something of the dredges of society becoming associated with flesh merchants and slavers. A member of your family has not held the Consulate, or even sat in the Senate, for well over a century. Your father, through his actions, has started well on the path to restoring the long-lost honor of your name, but with him dead, the legacy of your family rests upon your shoulders.
      [X] Plan: A son earning a seat
      -[X] Felix Flavius
      -[X]
      -[X]Son: Ah, a Gift from the Gods themselves, a man to carry on your Family's name and Legacy
      -[X]You have siblings: Your Mother survived your birth and gave your father more children (Will roll a d8 for the number of siblings that you have.)
      -[X]The Plebian You are a plebian, one of the common folk. Your family is a family of soldiers and has been for as far back as memory can reach. The most famous of your family, a respected hero Flavius, won laurels for his service in the Punic Wars against Carthage over a hundred years ago, and even rose to sit on the Senate. He rose through glory from his actions and deeds in service to the Republic, a soldier to the bone, and that legacy still runs in your family. His achievements were the very apex of your family name, and are the reason you can count yourselves among the nobilis of Rome, those authorized to sit on the Senate. His glory was a height your father strove to reach but could never match. As a soldier and a plebian alike, you will have more support among both the army and the people, facilitating a rise through the ranks of Roman government, but you will be looked down upon by the largely patrician Senatorial class -- the very class you seek to join.
      [X]Plan For The Republic!
      -[X] Claudia Famia
      -[X]
      -[X]Daughter: The Gods cursed him for a time, with an only child being a daughter. But soon he forgot such majesties and treated you not as a girl, but as his heir.
      -[X]You have siblings: Your Mother survived your birth and gave your father more children (Will roll a d8 for the number of siblings that you have.)
      -[X]The Patrician You are a patrician, the true nobility of Rome, the upper class of the Republic. Yours is an ancient family, hailing back to the very founding of Rome itself, and some would say even older than that, following Aeneas, all the way from Troy. Once, your family had numerous branches across the Republic, and were respected and held in high regard by the people and the Senate of Rome alike. But one by one, your line died out and your name fell into disrepute, from the plague, from war to Hannibal's butchery of Canne massacring several lines all at once. The name you have quickly devolved from respect to something of the dredges of society becoming associated with flesh merchants and slavers. A member of your family has not held the Consulate, or even sat in the Senate, for well over a century. Your father, through his actions, has started well on the path to restoring the long-lost honor of your name, but with him dead, the legacy of your family rests upon your shoulders.
      [X] Light of the Scipio Asina
      [X] Light of the Scipio Asina
      -[X] Lucillia Scipio Asina
      -[X]
      -[X]Daughter: The Gods cursed him for a time, with an only child being a daughter. But soon he forgot such majesties and treated you not as a girl, but as his heir.
      -[X]You are an only child. The Gods cursed your Father, and thus, made you alone in your family name.
      -[X]The Patrician You are a patrician, the true nobility of Rome, the upper class of the Republic. Yours is an ancient family, hailing back to the very founding of Rome itself, and some would say even older than that, following Aeneas, all the way from Troy. Once, your family had numerous branches across the Republic, and were respected and held in high regard by the people and the Senate of Rome alike. But one by one, your line died out and your name fell into disrepute, from the plague, from war to Hannibal's butchery of Canne massacring several lines all at once. The name you have quickly devolved from respect to something of the dredges of society becoming associated with flesh merchants and slavers. A member of your family has not held the Consulate, or even sat in the Senate, for well over a century. Your father, through his actions, has started well on the path to restoring the long-lost honor of your name, but with him dead, the legacy of your family rests upon your shoulders.
      [X]Plan: Lone Wolf
      -[X] Claudia Nerva
      -[X]Daughter: The Gods cursed him for a time, with an only child being a daughter. But soon he forgot such majesties and treated you not as a girl, but as his heir.
      -[X]You are an only child. The Gods cursed your Father, and thus, made you alone in your family name.
      -[X]The Patrician You are a patrician, the true nobility of Rome, the upper class of the Republic. Yours is an ancient family, hailing back to the very founding of Rome itself, and some would say even older than that, following Aeneas, all the way from Troy. Once, your family had numerous branches across the Republic, and were respected and held in high regard by the people and the Senate of Rome alike. But one by one, your line died out and your name fell into disrepute, from the plague, from war to Hannibal's butchery of Canne massacring several lines all at once. The name you have quickly devolved from respect to something of the dredges of society becoming associated with flesh merchants and slavers. A member of your family has not held the Consulate, or even sat in the Senate, for well over a century. Your father, through his actions, has started well on the path to restoring the long-lost honor of your name, but with him dead, the legacy of your family rests upon your shoulders.
    Click to expand...
     
  • View discussion
    • 0.2: Your Father's Final Gift
  • View content
    • 0.2: Your Father's Final Gift.

    You looked out longingly to the Villa that has, for all your years been your home and hearth. Even now as you stood on the hill, and the olive tree granted you shade, you knew that the glory of this place was long behind it. The lands of the fields were suffering from blight and no priest or magic could save the land from the curse that the Gods have brought upon this place.

    Year after year for as long as you lived, your Father barely scraped even from the investments from Grain and olives he produced for the city, and the Grain Dole that he partook in, to earn favor from the Senate and the People, only left him with less money per year.

    The Land was still bare from the fires as well, a lightning storm a year ago, Jupiter's anger at your father, was naught but the last in a long line of tragedy that befell this place.

    But unlike so many others, your father's grit held, and he had no debts in which others were owed, though he was owed nothing either.

    He had left a home, an empty home for his family, but the land, despite the curses that seemed to be wrought upon it, still gave life. Still grew the Grain and fruit that you ate and survived on.

    You had no want. But you had never known plenty.

    You took a moment to look at your father's corpse, the last vestiges of his mortal remains now being carried to a pyre that he had laid out, knowing full well that he was dying.

    Your Father, for the longest time, was a supporter of Marius, and his reforms, and even a proponent in helping them take off, a big military hero, his support, at least among the people was seen as a gold seal among a priceless jeweled crown.

    But then when he had to choose between his General Sulla and Marius, he had but one choice to make.

    He chose his General, his Master, His Legate....the man that he served with distinction.

    That was what he chose.

    And the Marians never forgave, and never forget.
    --------------------------------------
    If there was ever a man popular in the Senate, it was your father. Even when he wasn't a member, tales of his gallantry and success, along with much of the booty he made when on the campaign. Your Father, ever the man of action made sure his friends and his allies told stories of his missions, of how many men he killed...

    When he was promoted from Socii, Evocati, To Centurion.

    News from him, perhaps more than his legate, was the talk of Rome. Even the great victories in Spain were only the highlights of a legendary career.

    The Awards he earned were also vast and numerous.

    You remembered all of them, as he told stories of each one of them.

    Three Gold Crowns, all earned in Spain, fighting from the front of his column and slaying ten men each time. He never spoke about the actions, or of the joy, he took in fighting, but he seemed to have shame whenever he spoke about them.

    One Mural Crown, when he stormed the Walls of some Barbarian City that he didn't even remember the name of. He was the first on the wall, and the first man who greeted the Legate, when the city was secured, covered in blood, entrails and wounds.

    And finally, Three Grass Crowns, many of them during the final battles of Spain. He never talked about those awards, not ever, save that he earned them by doing his duty.

    How he earned three in less than six months, many said it was a conspiracy, that he was a traitor who betrayed the Spanish. You never believed their lies.

    Had he been a Legate, he would have been awarded a Triumph. instead, he was discharged honorably and was able to go to his fields, and farm, as Cincinatius had.
    ------------------------------------------------------

    In the end, your Father was a frugal man, who shunned coin at every measure, purchasing large stores of wine grapes to ferment over the years, Purchasing horses, slaves, and seeds of the highest quality, and paying, above all else, for scrolls, a large untold quantity of scrolls that you used to read and to practice writing.

    Some of the earliest days you could remember were waking up, and being forced to read the scrolls that your father prepared for you for the day when you would be wed, as a way to not only keep you useful to your would-be husband but to also secure your own financial and communication independence.

    He saw illiteracy as a grave crime for any honest roman, and wished, above all else, that his child not suffer the same fate of illiteracy that he suffered for much of his life, and of your mother, who could never read at all, who loved it when you plopped onto her lap and read to her the stories written by your tutors and the transcriptions of the myths of your mother homeland.

    Your favorite is the Tales of Zagreus... at least on of them, the one where he fights through Hades itself to meet his mother in spring, only for him to die and return to the underworld. And the promise he made to her.

    To always meet her in the spring, so that they never have to suffer from loneliness, or be forgotten.

    And as you grew, more and more, you realized that he never wanted you to be lost or forgotten.

    But in his attempt to enrich yourself with knowledge, he left little in the way of the coin when he died.
    ---------------------------
    Your father loved Sulla like a father, and Sulla loved him as a Son and sees you as not only his child, and heir, but as a surrogate granddaughter.

    But in the end, you knew it was just a means to an end. He wanted to control you, to control your name, your wealth, and your reputation.

    It was all he wanted and all he cared about.

    Your father knew this but did not care.

    Despite your failings, and your misgivings, you loved your father, and in the end, you knew that he had spent his money wisely, and in a way where you could be the woman who was the envy of Rome itself.

    Now he was Dead, and you were now the last of his line.

    But you were not alone. You had his friends to call upon.

    The slaves that were now yours.

    And the gifts he left behind.

    You are Claudia Nerva, and your tale begins with the death of your Father.
    --------------------------

    Your Skills: What did your father train you in, as his one and only child.

    Due to Being an only child, your father focused all his energies on you, and that meant he trained you even more than was expected of you, or from you at all. This means you have an additional skill to choose from, and they will be higher than others.

    (Choose 2)

    [] 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.

    [] 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.

    [] 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.

    [] 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.

    []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.

    []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.

    The Gifts of the Gods: You are the only child of this venerable house. There is nothing more vulnerable, and fateful as a house near its ends.

    The gods, sensing your misfortune. or your fortune… Perhaps will grant you a greater boon, than not.

    And the gifts of your mother's homeland have not been lost to you either.

    Some of the Old Gods of Greece see you as one of their own and bless you as well if you accept it.
    -----------------------------------------
    Choose 2

    Roman Gifts: The Gifts of your Father's Homeland. The ones in which, all that matters.

    [] 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.

    [] 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.

    [] 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.

    [] 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.

    [] 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.

    The Greek Gifts: The Gifts of your Mother's Land. Those long-forgotten in power. (Note, If you chose any of these boons, there will be consequences)

    []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.

    []The Gift of Hestia: Home is where the Hearth is. And the Gods favor you as someone who knows where her home is. Hestia has blessed you with a home that will never be lost, no matter the tragedy. Your people may leave you, your plans may fall apart. But you will always have a home, no matter what and where it is. You will always have one place to be safe.

    []The Gift of Hades: Death will always be the end. It is only wise to smile and greet it openly and happily. Death does not fear you, as why should it, it is merely the end of a journey that lasts a lifetime. And Hades believes you are a wonderful student, and sometimes, you may see the end of it all for yourself, or rarer still, for another you care for. He also bestowed upon you a rather, strange gift, at least to you. Your eyesight is very good, good enough to tell a coin that is fake… or real. A useful trick.

    []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.

    AN: Enjoy, and vote in plan format.
     
  • View discussion
    • Stories of the Father: The First Days of Mars (I)
  • View content
    • Stories of the Father: The First Days of Mars (I)

    "There are as many stories as there are stars, and as many gods as there are stories," your father had once said, resting against the gnarled olive tree that was the centerpiece of your home, grown in such a way that it appeared to all as Sylvanus' Throne, "Do you know why that is Claudia?"

    "No tatta," you had said, peering up at him through the hazel nest that was your hair, dirty as it was from playing in the yard, "Do they grow like olives from a great tree?"

    He paused for a moment, before shaking his head, "Not exactly, but that's closer than most of the faithful would tell you. No, the reason there are so many stories is that unlike the gods, we, humanity that is, do not keep a perfect memory."

    He paused here, looking towards the young moon hanging in the twilight summer sky as, you know knew, your father became lost in his memories, those of family and friends long gone; for a moment more he remain still, before he turned his gaze once more upon you, and the eyes of Jupiter seemed reflected in his wizened eyes.

    "But that in itself is another story, and not the one I wish to impart to you tonight," his voice gently rumbled, as it had since his days training the youngest of his legion, "Tonight, my dear Claudia, I share with you the story of Mars Pater, the God of Rome and all its children, as shared by my father and all his fathers before him."

    "In ages long since past, when Terra had only had just begun to heal following the Titan War and the Gods of Olympus had divided her domains between themselves, Jupiter Tutator had come to learn of the treachery of his first wife, whom the Greeks call Metis and the mother of Bellona Minerva besides; shortly before their victory, she had conceived with him their firstborne children and learned that one of them was prophesized to overthrow him, mirroring the actions he himself had taken against his own father Saturn.

    Fearing the death of her child, she had turned to her father Oceanus, the Titan of the Sea, and through him struck a bargain to protect the life of their child, turning traitor to protect her own. It wasn't until the end of the war, and the Titans defeated and imprisoned in the deepest pits of the Underworld, that Jupiter learned of this deception, and despite nothing having ever been born of the ordeal, Jupiter was forced to choose between his duties to his family and the nation.

    Though it greatly pained him, his first decree as Deus Imperator, and God of Justice besides, was to put her on trial as a traitor to the gods and once found guilty, had her killed by transforming her into her favored flower, that of a lotus. And each day, and even when he would soon thereafter wed Juno, he would visit Metis' Lotus in the garden for a time before returning to his duties. This went on for such a time that it would eventually anger the newlywed Juno Moneta, attracting the attentions of Nemesis Fortuna and Discordia, whom sought to turn Jupiter's attentions back unto Juno.    "

    Pausing briefly, he grasped a chalice of nearby posca to slake his thirst, he said as an aside, "And my dear Claudia, what happened next is why one should always be attentive to the words of advice shared between friends, for they can often share just as much of a person's character as their actions."

    "Where was I, ah yes, and so they plotted to return those attentions back unto Juno, and after a fair few foiled plots, they stole away Metis' lotus and worked it into one of Olympus' great feasts. And it worked for a time, the disappearance enough to garner Jupiter's attentions...until the day came that a number of the pantheon that had attended the feast had fallen ill, among that number Ceres, Juno, Latona and, strangely, Jupiter himself.

    Besides themselves as the illness steadily worsened, it was Jupiter who succumbed to the pain as he struggled with a piercing headache the likes of which no man had ever before seen before or since; unable to cope with the mounting pains, he split his own skull open to relieve the pressure...and in the process learned why the pains had mounted, as the goddess Bellona Minerva sprang fully formed of his mind. And it was upon beholding his daughter's visage for the first time that he had learned of what had happened to the Lotus, equally bringing a great pain to his breast as it did enrage him.

    At that same time, however, Juno learned of her own folly as each of the goddesses plagued by the illness gave birth to a new generation of gods and goddesses, Juno herself carrying forth Mars Silvanus into this world.    "

    There was more to the story her father had shared with her that night, though of those she remembered very little, given that it was at that point her eyes had drifted closed after fighting them open for a time, tired as she was from the days activities, remembering more of her father's steady heartbeat he held her close to his heart in a protective embrace and the gentle way he had woken her for her bath before turning her in for the night.

    A/N: I don't know why, or even where the idea came from, but for some reason I have this image of Claudia's dad being this unholy/wholesome blend of R. Lee Ermey, Bob Ross and Steve Erwin. Don't know how far off the mark I'm at right now, but that's where my mind's at right now...tried to keep that impression out of the story, but who knows.
     
    Last edited:
  • View discussion
    • Stories of the Father: The First Days of Mars (II)
  • View content
    • Orion Ultor said:
    At that same time, however, Juno learned of her own folly as each of the goddesses plagued by the illness gave birth to a new generation of gods and goddesses, Juno herself carrying forth Mars Silvanus into this world.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Stories of the Father: The First Days of Mars (II)

    It was some time later that found the both of them hidden under their orchard's shade, the grove tucked away in a corner of their property away from prying eyes, baskets of their fruit almost filled to their brim near their luncheon spread as they took a brief pause to hide from worst of the midday sun.

    "Tata," she asked, nibbling on a piece of the bread "Why does Mars have so many names? How are we to know which one to pray to?"

    Her father, seated as he was across from her, pondered the question as he slowly sipped at his cup of posca.

    "Because he earned them," he said at last, placing the cup aside and reaching for some of the cured meats, "and each name carries with it a different deed, a different need. To call upon his name in of itself is only enough to give reverence to Mars in his entirety, to call upon him by his deeds is to ask of him to be your patronus and place yourself as his cliens.

    You remember some weeks past, when I told you the story of his birth? So named Mars     Silvanus at that time?"

    She did not, not in the fullness of truth, but not wanting to disappoint her father, she quickly nodded her assent.

    "So you did? I must have imagined your tired state then," he chuckled mirthfully as her ears burned crimson, "No matter then Claudia. He was so named for the forests that skirted Olympus, where he was born."

    "But how does one earn a name by being born in a place, Tata?" she asked, having abandoned the bread in favor for pear slices, tilting her head to the side as she pondered her father's words.

    "For much the same reason that a girl from Roma is called Claudia, when she could have just as easily been called Thaïs in Graecia," her father answered, not unkindly, as he affixed the meats atop a slice of bread and hummus, "Given a different life in another place and time, any given child has a different name by their origin.

    And it is not as if the young Mars did not deserve the name, given the many adventures he surely shared with his brothers and sisters in those forests, from the advent of music at the hands of Faunus Mercury as he tended to his herds to the onset of medicina professio under the workings of Apollo Arcitenens. But we are getting ahead of ourselves yet.    "

    He paused here, taking the time to dab his face clean with cloth, before continuing on and yet another cup of posca in hand.

    "Following Juno's handling of the Lotus, a number of Lotusborn were presented by their mothers, made notable by prominent features reminiscent of both Jupiter and Metis shared between them all; though many besides these were born into the world, in the days since, the most prominent prominent of their number have come to be known as: Bellona Minerva (eldest of the Lotusborn and firstborn of Jupiter), Triton Arion and Proserpina Puella (twins born to Ceres Salacia), Faunus Mercury (born to Cybele Maia), Apollo Acersecomes and Diana Trivia (twins born to Latona Asteria), and finally, Mars Silvanus (youngest of the Lotusborn and firstborn of Juno).

    It was in this generation of gods, born into the ashes of the old world, that marked the dawn of the Silver Age, as the skills that once been thought lost in the shadow of the preceding war were relearnt by necessity and honed into an honest craft. By the workings of Bellona, mankind was taught to build their shelter, and by the workings of Triton, we were taught to fish. By the workings of Proserpina, mankind was taught how to gather the resources of the land, and by the workings of Faunus, we were to taught how to survive best off of the land. By the workings of Diana, mankind was taught to hunt the beasts of the land, and by the workings of Apollo, we were taught how to heal one another. And though Mars had been born the seventh and least of their number, it was     he who taught us how to tend to the land, how to make the wild things grow into wheat and barley and how to tend to the most vicious of beasts and make them companions and sustenance."

    Here, her father took a breath, beginning to gather up what remained of their meals, and she quickly began to help, gathering a small, appreciative smile from him as she did so. As they stood to return to their work, him to the fields and her to her lessons, he tucked her by his side and ended the meal thusly.

    "Where the other gods toiled to hone an honest craft and were thus prideful teachers to an early mankind, Mars was the only one to toil alongside us, working as we did to not only better themselves but with an honest and grateful pride born in the companionship of aiding us.

    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.    "
    Magoose said:
    Their edgy fanfic might be replaced by our edgy fanfic at this point because none of the real shit survived.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    A/N: Hopefully I've made it far more tasteful than edgy, because I'm honestly trying to take these myths and trying to make them parables for a father to teach his daughter, as did his father and ad naseum. Like, I'm trying to take the approach that these stories are a combination of local tradition, a poor religious education, a lack of literacy, and snippets gathered from distant corners of the world, either from their travels, from friends in the Legion or marriage, and filtered through a lens of reconciliation between all those versions in order to teach important lessons, be of the day to day or utterly cultural. I'm also hoping to tie the Ages of Man and the story of the Zeus being "overthrown" by the other gods [the one with golden chains...can't remember the specific name for the event though] with the creation of the Republic as a parable of why the Romans detest monarchies during this specific era in history, in the way a child could understand it.

    And I'm not sure how open you are to this, but I want to end the series (whenever that may be) with Claudia having written down the overall vast majority of her mother and father's accounts of the myths, initially with the intent of preserving their memory with the surplus parchment provided by her lessons and sited as best she could in the stylings of Herodotus, given freely as a gift to her father some years before [quest-start]...and returned in his will.
     
    Last edited:
  • View discussion
    • Stories of the Father: The First Days of Mars (III)
  • View content
    • 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.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    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.
     
    Last edited:
  • View discussion
    • Stories of the Smith: The First Days of Vulcan (I)
  • View content
    • Stories of the Smith: The First Days of Vulcan (I)

    It was the morning following Cerelia that found her waiting on her father, as he slowly ate a meal of sheep's lungs and owl eggs, softly grumbling to himself as he did so.

    Draining a nearby cup of water, he softly asked, "I apologize child, one shouldn't see their pater in a such a sorry state, but should you not be with your tutors?"

    "It is fine pater," she sighed, popping a particularly tart slice of citrus into her mouth, experimenting with how it complimented with elderberry, "You held yourself admirably in comparison to your old friends, and as for my tutors...it appears as though old Hilarion thought himself to be a much younger man last night, and Timon is attempting to aid him in his recovery and let me know lessons would be postponed until much later in the day."

    "And the others are to enjoy the day with their families by my order," her father groaned, digging his palms into his eyes, pondering what to do with the information, "Right...give me a moment, I need to gather myself for a moment more, and then we'll see Furia to see what works are yet to be completed. You'll be with me until your tutors are in a better state."

    She smiled lightly, before gracefully extricating herself from the table to wait on her father.

    It was some time later that she found herself before Furia, the woman standing tall as she walked your father through the repairs to the equipment, even as he lightly winced from the powerful hammering of her sons some distance away, one attempting to complete a beautiful, if simple, gladius. For a moment, she tried to see what Clauda saw in the youngest, and it found that, other than the deceptive speed he possessed for his sheer size, she couldn't quite see what her friend saw in him, even as vague recollections of his gentleness with her friend flickered at the the periphery of her memories.

    She shook her head, for it ultimately did not matter much to her at the moment. Maybe it had something to do with being older, though that was not something her attendants discussed with her whenever she asked why they were acting silly, though she figured that was more that it was that Clauda and Flavia had much more time on their hands to worry about silly things than she did...at least she hoped so, for it wouldn't do for her to be quite so silly.

    "Claudia," her father called, catching her attention and noting that in the brief moments that she had not been focused on her father, he had seemed to come to an agreement with Furia, "It has been brought to my attention that I've been remiss in sharing with you the totality of Mars' story, and for that reason, you will spend the day with Furia and come to understand his works through the workings of Vulcan."

    Beside him, Furia rolled her eyes, and took her by her hand once her father's attentions turned to towards the smithy and led her into one of the back rooms, tossing a hand cloth onto a nearby work bench as she approached a small shrine to Vulcan.

    "As you very well know child, your familia have a much different understanding of the gods than most, especially that of his patron Mars, not at all helped by your relative youth," Furia rumbled, voice rough from the years of inhaling the fumes of the forge, "And as you are not one of mine, it is not my place to share with you the entirety of the gods' character, the sins surely committed in the pursuit of the prosperity and security of Olympus and any indulgences taken besides; that prerogative is your pater's alone, and as such I shall endear to continue down the path as I share with you the birth of mine patron Vulcan.

    Though some would tell you that Vulcan is the eldest of Jupiter's children, having been there to assist in Bellona's birth, they are wrong to do so. Vulcan is near the youngest of Jupiter's children, born some time after that particular disaster as the only product of Jupiter and Juno both, and it was upon seeing the form of her child that the goddess cast the babe from the heights of Olympus and into the sea, his form breaking upon the waves.    "

    Here the woman paused, conflict flitting as flickering shadows across her face before coming to a decision upon seeing the horror growing across her face.

    "There is a reason for this child, for among the many evils Pandora released unto the world, the one far cruelest to women is a sickness of the mind," shared Furia, a gentle tone entering her gravel filled voice, "one that steals a mother's love from her children, catching many unawares and filling them instead with apathy, sadness and rage. Most refuse to speak of the matter, on fear of inviting the sickness upon themselves and have such left the disease unnamed, but I am long since past the age where such a thing would matter, and as you are your parent's only child I felt the need to warn you of the matter."

    A terrible silence past between them, as the idea of such a thing even existed.

    "I- I greatly apologize, it must have been very difficult," even as she said it, her eyes widened in horror as the words past unbidden past her lips, as a grief-stricken smile cracked the strong woman's façade.

    "The matter has long since past child, but I take it in the spirit it was given nonetheless," the woman spoke softly, before clearing her voice and continuing a moment later, "As I was saying, it was for this reason that Juno had cast aside the only begotten child of her union, and if not for the quick actions of the goddess Salacia, wife and consort of Neptune, Vulcan would have been lost to the sea as many before and since have. The goddess welcomed the child into her own home and raised him happily as one of her own, until the day came when the truth of his origins was discovered when the family came before the court of Jupiter to enjoy the Saturnalia.

    For a time, Vulcan's form had grown increasingly misshapen in his dogged pursuit of being the first to heat and shape metal, but even his now monstrous form was still yet recognizable to Juno by the peculiar birthmarking. Seeing a chance for redemption, she brought the matter before Jupiter and begged to have Vulcan returned to them; enraged at the matter and yet wanting to preserve the peace, had Quinirius look into the matter before making his decree...and when it was found that Vulcan was in a far more hospitable placement than his own, Jupiter made his decision.

    From then on, he decreed, only the pater familia was determined to have the power to abandon a child, in an effort to prevent such acts from occurring again.    "

    Silence reigned between them for a moment, before she whispered "Nothing of that matter seems fair."

    "In a fair world child, Pandora would never have opened that box. And it is for that reason, above all, that I follow Vulcan, for it is by his hands that we have the tools to make the world just a little bit fairer."
     
    Last edited:
  • View discussion
    • View content
    You must login or register to reply here.
    Back
    Top