The Patrician [] You are a patrican, 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. Once, the Cingulii 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, 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, the very first Atellus, 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, 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 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.

[] War: Almost from infancy, your father struggled to impart upon you all that he knew of the soldier's duty, of the sword held high, of the line that cannot break. He drove you like he drove the legionnares of his youth, molding you into a weapon of Rome. Physically, you are the equal of any man now serving in Rome's armies, and you have long studied the campaigns of the Republic's finest commanders and their foes, honing an understanding of strategy and tactics equal to the most promising cadet. Should you decide to take up arms in the name of Rome, you will have a most promising future under the sword.

[] 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. From a young age, you have studied and read the law, making yourself familiar with it's complicated intricacies and glaring loopholes, it's strengths and it's weaknesses. In the Senate, one who understands the byzantine codes of decorum and senatorial process can manipulate them to his cause, and in the streets of the city, one who can speak in favor of the people in the courts can easily win their hearts.

[] Speech: From a young age, you have had a gift for oratory, for choosing the right words for the right moment. You have nurtured this talent into the ability to hold a room full of men under your sway with nothing but your gift for speech. Oratory, perhaps above all other talents, is valued in the Senate, for it is the orator who is capable of winning the most selfish and fickle men in all of Rome to his side, of ending wars with a few choice sentences, of shaping the fate of Rome with impassioned speech and persuasive word.

[] Trade: Your father owned his own vineyards, and as a young man, it was your duty to manage and care for them, and see to their sale, in order to teach you a little of the duties of running an estate. Though you knew little of selling wines, you took to the task with aplomb, quickly learning the ropes of the wine trade. The merchant's life is not often sung in the tales, but it is one to which you are most suited -- by the age of sixteen you could haggle, barter, and deal with even the most seasoned merchants that paid a visit to your father's estate, and squeeze a few more coins from even the most tight-fisted miser. Coin may not be as glorious as the sword in Rome, but it will buy you respect and influence all the same.

[] The Arts: A general may win fame and love on the field of war, and the senator might win respect from his sweet words, but no man is as beloved in Rome as the poet who sets the world to paper. The lays and sonnets of the great writers of Rome are sung and chanted by the soldier on the field and the worker in his hovel alike, reaching down through every echelon of Roman society. He who writes of the past may well shape it, and it is many an artistic Roman who has turned a crippling defeat into a resounding triumph, or debased upon the page the name of a foe whom he could not dare touch in the flesh. Through the written word, one may well control more hearts than ever could the sword.

[] 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. 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. You read battlefields as other men read books, and direct armies as other men direct choirs. Given time enough to grow, you will surely equal --or even surpass-- the great generals of antiquity.

[] The Gift of Apollo: You are a demagogue, a firebrand, a bold populist with a brazen tongue. When you speak, the common man listens. Your words, both written and spoken, touch and inflame the hearts of the common people, raising them to follow and obey. Those who have so long been downtrodden seem to find a champion in you, from the plebian to the slave, and your rhetoric gives them hope that the world they know might someday change. *(NOTE: This trait permanently locks you into the Populares Faction)*

[] 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. There is no other word for it. Weapons that should have struck your skull sail inches wide, plans that should never have succeeded work against all odds, and the dice always seem to land in ways that favor you. The augurs say you are kissed by Fortuna, beloved of the Luck Goddess herself. Indeed, perhaps they are right, for fortune clings to you like a lover's shadow, guiding your hand and tilting events in your favor.

[] The Gift of Minerva: You are a man wise beyond your years, more intelligent and resourceful than most youths your age. Even in the height of danger, you are clear-sighted and quick-thinking, opening up more solutions to your problems than might be possible otherwise. Your plans and stratagems are well-thought out and do not often fail, and no man in Rome can best you in a match of wits. Such is the extent of your skill that at times it seems as if you are blessed by Minerva herself, the warlike goddess of knowledge. Where others rush headlong into danger, you have already seen it coming -- and worked out a plan to stop it.

[] The Gift of Bellona: In battle, you are untouchable. Your reflexes are like lightning and your limbs the thunder that follows after. Your muscles are like iron and your strength like something out of the very tales of Heracles. Those who have seen you rip through a battlefield 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 Gift of Mercury: No matter your status or station, men seem to find you inherently trustworthy and you seem to have a knack for making deals. Your deals are more likely to succeed, your agreements go unbroken, and even allies seem less likely to turn on you. In trade, diplomacy, and negotiation, you are simply more successful, capable of whiling the stingiest or staunchest of opponents around to a favorable compromise.