To every man upon this earth, death cometh soon or late; And how can man die better than facing fearful odds, For the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods? For Romans in Rome's quarrel spared neither land nor gold, Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life, in the brave days of old.
SENATVS • POPVLVS • ROMANVS Thine, Roman, is the pilum: Roman, the sword is thine, The even trench, the bristling mound, The legion's ordered line. This quest is made to be read in FlexSpace or another dark theme. The Res Publica Discord is open for business
86 B.C.
It is the final century of the Roman Republic.
Rome, once a fledgling city-state on the banks of the Tiber, has spread its dominion from the verdant foothills of Italy to the rolling plains of Hispania and beyond. For nearly a century since the defeat of her archenemy 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 which might hope to stand against the Republic.
It is the blackest of ironies, then, that Rome's greatest threat comes not from without, but within. Emboldened by the glory won in their many wars, Rome's most beloved generals have turned upon one another in the name of base ambition, dividing the Roman army against itself. Theirs is struggle which has already watered the streets of Rome with blood, and now threatens to spill out across the domains of the Republic. Brother turns blade against brother, and Roman takes up arms against Roman. It was said of old that the house divided cannot stand, and yet again it is proved true.
Italia burns.
In times such as these, men of ambition and vision might forge a future for themselves amidst the turmoil and toil of war. It was said by the Greeks of yore that crisis breeds greatness -- and if it is so, then this crisis must breed the greatest men of our time.
You are a citizen of Rome, raised in the looming shadow of the city now at war with itself. As a landowning citizen of status, you are entitled to a seat in the Senate should you prove yourself worthy. 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 man of note in the Republic is no small task. To simply survive in Rome, you must be more cunning, more vicious, and more brutal than all around you. You must trust nothing and no one, for even the fastest of friends may turn foe, and the love of the people is fickle and fleeting. 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 and your enemies will play dice with your bones. You will join countless thousands in the gutters of history, lost to time and memory in the growing shadow of Rome.
But to succeed is to rise above, to tread the world beneath your feet. It is to rub shoulders with titans and decide the fate of untold millions. 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.
May the goddess of Victory smile upon you, Roman.
Welcome to Res Publica, a quest set in the waning days of the Roman Republic. You will play as Quintus Cingulatus Atellus, a young Roman citizen of the aristocratic class who aspires to a seat in the Senate. Over the course of the game, you will make your way up the ranks of Roman society, ascending from elected position to elected position. You must be a soldier and a politician alike, an orator and a conqueror in equal measure, if you hope to rise above your peers and ascend to the highest civic glory of all: the Consul, the first citizen, supreme political and military ruler of the entire Republic.
In Rome, your status in the eyes of the people is everything -- life and death itself. Win the love of Rome, and you will be able to defy the Senate itself, to perform acts others would call treasonous and emerge unscathed. Earn their displeasure, on the other hand, and you will find yourself with enemies beyond count, disgraced and disfigured. The Roman people are a fickle lot, and even one who is secure in their love must be careful, for it might swing at any moment from him to another.
Of course, you will have ample opportunities to earn adoration from Rome. Quintus, as an aspiring Roman politican, must follow the cursus honorum, the unofficial yet socially enforced sequence of elected positions, both civic and military, which serve as a stepping-stone to the Senate. A politician who successfully navigates the cursus honorum will emerge a skilled military and political mind, capable of navigating the Roman people through war and peace alike, and ready to assume his place at the helm of the Republic.
At least, that is the intent.
In reality, however, you will compete with hundreds of other young men, each just as ambitious and aspiring as yourself, each jockeying for power and favor in the eyes of influential senators and patricians, each seeking his own path to the halls of power. It is an achievement of no small merit simply to survive in such an environment, much less prosper.
For make no mistake -- Rome is a cruel mistress. It is a city consumed by it's own legend, a brutal, byzantine web of intrigue, lust, betrayal, and vice, navigated only by the most ambitious and ruthless of minds. Greater men than you have tried and failed to climb her towering heights. Shall you follow in their doomed footsteps, or will your name burn through Rome?
And thine the wheels of triumph, Which with their laurelled train Move slowly up the shouting streets To Jove's eternal flame.
Name: Quintus Cingulatus Atellus Age: 19 (Born 103 B.C) Family: Gens Cingulata Class: Patrician Profession: Tribunus Laticlavus Public Party: Optimates Private Party: Idealist Populares Patron(s): Quintus Mucius Scaevola Pontifex Clients: Marius Himatus Censer Imperium: N/A Philosophy: Eclecticism Reputation: (Rank 9) Recognized -- You have marched in Triumph before the city of Rome, and there are many who know your face.
Economic Status
Wealth: 102 talents Monthly Income: 580 denarii Buildings Owned: The Domus of the Cingulii (net worth: 906 talents) Land Held: 25 acres (net worth: 40 talents) Slaves Owned: 31 Debts Owed: 0 Debts Held: 0
Titles and Honors
Cognomina: Atellus (lit. 'Dark-of-hair') Honors and Decorations: N/A Offices Held: Military Tribune Past Offices Held: N/A Triumphs Held: 0 Cases Won: 0 Campaigns Led: 0 Consulates Held: 0
Stats
Military: Accomplished (13) -- You have a good grasp of strategy and tactics, equal to that of a skilled military tribune. Charisma: Accomplished (11) -- You are charismatic and well-spoken, capable of handling yourself ably in Roman society. Stewardship: Poor (4) -- You couldn't manage a wine stand. Intelligence: Renowned (15) -- You are quick, thoughtful, and difficult to fool, with a strength of wit that has made you famous. Education: Accomplished (10) -- You have learned from the finest tutors your father could afford, but there are still gaps in your knowledge. Subterfuge: Average (7) -- You can lie and cheat as well as any Roman, but you have no special skill for deceit.
Skills
Combat: Accomplished (10) -- Your talent with the blade is well-honed, and you are a formidable opponent for any man. Oratory: Accomplished (11) -- Your words are mesmerizing, and your arguments well-constructed. Command: Proficient (8) -- Men have died for you. Men will die for you again. Engineering: Abysmal (1) -- Rocks go on top of other rocks. Probably. Seafaring: Very Poor (2) -- The boat goes on the water, this much you know. Probably. Logistics: Very Poor (2) -- They can feed themselves, right? Law: Proficient (9) -- You are beloved of Themis herself, the goddess of Justice. Philosophy: Average (5) -- I think, therefore I am. Administration: Average (5) -- You can run a house decently -- but probably not a city. Diplomacy: Accomplished (10) -- You are a skilled speaker, capable of negotiating fairly and equitably.
Auguries and Foretellings
The Sign of the Aquila [EPIC]: Before you came to Rome, it was foretold you would meet death and glory in equal measure, along with other portents that seemed at the time inscrutable, but may well prove deathly important in the days and months to come.
The Mother's Mercy [EPIC]: The Mother's Mercy: In ancient times, the Romans adopted the Phyrgian goddess Cybele to help defend them against Hannibal. One of her priestesses spoke a foreboding and dark prophecy to you in the hills of Bithynia. It warned of things done in darker times and blacker days yet to come.
•TRAITS•
Old Blood
You are a patrician of the House of Cingulatus, an ancient and noble gens dating back to the foundation of the Roman kingdom itself. History and myth say that in the dawn of Rome, your ancestor, the first Atellus, was the bodyguard of Romulus himself, and helped lay the very foundations of Rome. This illustrious lineage has kept your family well-regarded for centuries, and even now that your name has slid into decline, the name Cingulatus is still spoken with some respect in the city. (Bonus to interactions with patrician families, gain automatic +3 bonus to interaction with Optimates)
The Gift of Minerva
Wisdom herself has blessed you, or so it seems. You are wise beyond your years, with sharp wits and a mind capable of adapting and changing to any situation. You soak up knowledge like a sponge, and your capability for tactical thinking rivals some of Rome's finest commanders. Yours is a mind like few others in Rome. (+6 Intelligence, +3 command, +2 Law, increased XP Gain)
Orator, Rank I
You are one of the most noted young speakers of your day. Though you are no legend yet, when inspiration strikes, you can speak as if blessed by Apollo himself. When you ascend the podium, men listen with rapt attention, their eyes and ears fixed upon your moving form. Scaevola Pontifex himself champions you as one of his most notable students, and the great orators and speakers of Rome look to you as a potential peer in the years to come. (+1 to Oratory and Oratorical actions, +1 to diplomacy/conversation rolls with Orators, Speakers, and Philosophers)(This skill is a Ranked Skill, which can be leveled up, and it's effects improved, through in-game actions)
•CAMPAIGNS•
The Fourth Samnite War (85 BC)
Your first ever campaign, you were assigned as military tribune to the VI Legion under one Quintus Sertorius, a famed general and the Legate of Italia. The legion was dispatched by the Proconsul Cinna to defeat the Samnite tribes once and for all, and win a resounding Roman victory close to home.
Legion: LEGIO VI GRADIVIUS (Sixth Legion, Blessed By Mars) Position: Tribunus Laticlavus (Broad-Striped Tribune) Commanding Officer: Quintus Sertorius Location: Apennine Italy Outcome: Total Roman victory, and the destruction of the Samnite cities of Aequum Tuticum and Nola.
•FEATS•
A Speech to the Gathered Elders of the Pentri
Lesser Feat, 85 BC --
First attested to by Plutarch in his Roman Lives, then mentioned again by Cassius Dio, the Speech to the Elders of the Pentri was a famous speech, now lost, given by the then-Tribune of the Sixth Legion, Quintus Cingulatus Atellus, to the tribal assembly of the Pentri tribe of the Samnites during the fourth and final Samnite war. This speech, long since lost, apparently convinced the famously stubborn Pentri to almost wholly submit to Roman rule. It was recorded by several present, and it's unlikely and overwhelming success despite the famed Samnite hostility to Rome -- and to Atellus himself in particular -- made it remarkable in its' own time. Fragments of it appear to have survived until at least the 160s, as the Emperor Marcus Aurelius apparently quoted it in a speech given in late 165 to a rebelling tribe in Moesia.
The Sack of Nola
Lesser Feat, 85 BC --
Nola, history says, was once a city of the Samnites in southern Campania, from which hailed the family of the Emperor Augustus. It was razed to the ground in 85 BC during the Last Samnite War, in an act which Livy called "The most barbarous of barbarous acts", stating that there was not a stone left sitting atop a stone. The starving Sixth Legion stormed the walls of the city after a two-month siege, and, led by the Legionary Tribune Quintus Cingulatus Atellus, slaughtered the Samnites inside and razed the city to the ground.
•DRAMATIS PERSONAE•
The Cingulii
Your family, and it's loyal servants.
Quintus Cingulatus Atellus: You. A Roman noble of a mighty family fallen on bitter times. Skilled in war and words, and possessed of a generational intellect. Pater Familias of the Cingulli. Cingulla Major: Your elder sister. Betrothed to Curtilius of the Curtilii. Cingulla Minor: Your younger sister, aged six. Tercerus: Once a Celtiberian slave and auxiliary in Spain, he fought alongside your father, and is practically a second father to you himself. Proserpina: A quiet, unassuming cook with a sharp mind and clever eyes, she has served your family since Spain. Your current chief of staff. Glaber: An African mercenary turned Roman bodyguard, he is another of your father's old servants. Theo: A Greek gladiator of middling skill, your father recruited him because of his unnatural charm and wit. Mancina: Cold, calculating, and a master of coin, Mancina is the steward of your estate.
Acquaintances
Those you have made bonds with in your time in Rome who do not hew strongly to any extant political party.
Marcus Tullius Cicero: A former student of Scaevola and a brilliant jurist and writer. His mind is a mind that may last ages. Your friend. Titus Pomponius Atticus: A student of Scaevola, a friend of Cicero, and a famed Philhellene. His Greek is better than any Roman you know. Your friend. Lucius Cornelius Scipio Cassianus: Born Opiter Cassius, this ambitious young man has risen from the dregs of Rome to be adopted into the powerful and famed gens Cornelia. Servius Sulpcius Rufus: Another student of Scaevola and your close friend. A talented jurist and lawyer, he currently serves as one of the tribunes of the VI legion. Volero: A bold young soldier in the service of Pompey. Lucius Proculus Mercator: The bold and experienced first centurion of the VI legion. Your friend. Pompolussa: Centurion of the third cohort of the VI legion. An old soldier, but tough as nails. Carcellus: Camp prefect of the VI legion. Big, tough, and a father to his men.
The Marians
The staunch populare followers of Gaius Marius, the Marians have reached their ascendancy in Rome. Violent, populist, and given to demagoguery, they are the mightiest faction in Rome at the moment.
Gaius Marius: Seven times consul of Rome, hero of the Jugurthine war and the Cimbrian invasions, beloved in Rome. He has recently seized Rome in a bloody coup from the Sullans. Quintus Sertorius: Hero of the Celtiberian wars, Sertorius is a novus homo and one of Rome's best generals. Lucius Cornelius Cinna: A self-serving and treacherous man, Cinna helped Marius seize Rome and has ruled with an iron fist ever since. Currently a consul of Rome. Gnaeus Papirus Carbo: Called the backbone of the Marians, Carbo is a lifelong soldier and supporter of Marius. Once Tribune of the Plebs, he is often spoken of as a potential consul. Currently Legate of the Seventh Legion under Marius. Gaius Valerius Flaccus: Once described as more 'slave than man', he initially resisted the Marians before being made co-consul with Cinna in 85 BC. Marius the Younger: Marius' son, a brash young man with little of his father's greatness in him. Illegally made consul in 85 BC. Scipio Asiaticus: Last descendant of a famous bloodline, Scipio Asiaticus is a skilled orator and speaker who is loyal to Marius. Consul of Rome. Marcus Marius Gratidianus: A praetor whose brilliant reforms saved Rome from a financial crisis, and is hailed in the streets as a god for it. Gaius Julius Caesar: Marius' nephew, a young boy of sixteen. Appointed by Marius as high priest of Jupiter.
The Marians regard you as potentially useful, though with troubling associations.
The Sullans
The largely optimate partisans of Lucius Cornelius Sulla, most of the Sullans have fled Rome to escape Marian persecution. Those still residing in Rome are too powerful or too influential to be touched...for now.
Lucius Cornelius Sulla Felix: The real hero of the Jugurthine war, a staunch optimate, and a bloodthirsty general, Sulla is the unofficial head of Rome's aristocrats and noble families. Currently overseas battling Mithridates. Lucius Licinus Lucullus: Sulla's second-in-command, Rome's most capable admiral, and a skilled general in his own right. Currently legate to Sulla. Gaius Antonius Hybrida: An infamously violent and cruel man, wholly lacking in scruples, morals, or reservations. Better described as a beast than as a man. Currently Sulla's master of horse. Marcus Licinius Crassus: A young man of aristocratic family whose father was slaughtered by Marius. Currently in Africa, leading the Sullan exiles there. Quintus Mucius Scaevola Pontifex: Your mentor, one of the most celebrated jurists in Rome. Currently the pontifex maximus, the voice of the gods. Mamercus Livianus: Sulla's son-in law, and head of the Sullans still remaining in Rome. Currently keeping his head down in Rome. Quintus Lutiatus Catulus: Son of one of Marius' old enemies, with a longstanding grudge against the Marians. Currently keeping his head down in Rome. Pompey: The son of the famed general Pompeius Strabo, this brash young general controls three legions in Italy. Though officially undeclared, many suspect his sympathies lie with Sulla. Has a deep grudge against you.
The Sullans regard you as useful.
Barbarians
To not be Roman is to be barbarian.
Mithridates the Great: The famed king of Pontus and archenemy of Rome, hailed by the Greeks as a second Alexander. Archelaus: Mithridates' most trusted general. Philo of Larissa: A Greek orator and philosopher who fled to Rome from Athens when it was sacked by Sulla. Visella Tertia: Last of the Samnite holy priestesses whom you destroyed at Ampscantus. Has sworn an oath of vengeance against Rome, and the house of Atellus. Marius Himatus: A Samnite noble, now a Roman citizen and your client. In exchange for your protection, he helped sway the Pentri tribe of the Samnites to Rome. Veniximaeus: Veniximaeus of the Medulli is a Gallic warchief and Roman auxiliary. Brash, rude, and bold, he has taken a liking to you.
In Memoriam
Time hath it's revolutions; there must be an end to all things, an end of names and titles and whatsoever is terrene. These here have ended. Ubi sunt qui ante nos fuerunt -- where are they now?
Lucius Cingulatus Atellus: Your father. In his youth, legatus of the Unconquered Tenth Legion of Spain, and won many glories in war against the Celtiberians. Died peacefully in old age, surrounded by friends and family. Gemino of the Pentri: A Samnite bandit turned rebel and warlord, Gemino of the Pentri led a steadfast and doomed resistance against the growing power of Rome in the Italian heartlands. Committed suicide after his defeat by Quintus Atellus in the Battle of the Tabelline Pass. Lycidas: A Greek general who served under Mithridates in the Mithridatic Wars. He fell fighting the Romans under Marius at the city of Sardis, and his defiant last stand has since passed into legend.
•MECHANICS•
Skills, Stats, and Reputation
Skills and Stats control your mental faculties and knowledge/expertise, as well as your ability to effectively exercise such things. Your Charisma stat governs your day-to-day interactions, while your Diplomacy skill governs your tact and ability to talk to people, well...diplomatically. Each Rank of a skill or stat increases the modifier applied to such actions, with things getting easier the more you do them (as in real life).
Stats are your mental capabilities, while skills are things you pick up and learn. You can't advance skills beyond a certain point without practical experience, but you can advance stats near-infinitely through study and research in your comfy villa in Rome. You can be a master of Military theory and strategic understanding, but have a 3 in Command because you've never actually led men into battle.
Skill/Stat Ranks:
I. Abysmal: You have no skill with this whatsoever, and are actively terrible at it. Any attempt by yourself to do this will be met with abject failure unless the gods are truly smiling on you. (Levels 0-1) (-6 Modifier)
II. Very Poor: You are incredibly poor at this, one of the worst currently in Rome. You may succeed in using it if you blunder into success using what little you do know. (Levels 2-3) (-4 Modifier)
III. Poor: This...is not your strength. Find some other way of solving your problems, if at all possible. (Level 4) (-2 Modifier)
IV. Average: You are markedly average at this. Not amazing, not terrible, just...good. Depending on what occurs, your performance could be remarkable or awful, but you have a fair chance of either. (Levels 5-7) (No Modifier)
V. Proficient: You're okay at this, showing some small skill in your attempts. Your performance is slightly above average. (Levels 8-9) (+1 Modifier)
VI. Accomplished: You are quite skilled at this, proving to be significantly better than most. (Levels 10-14) (+2 Modifier)
VII. Renowned: You are famed for your skill in this, and it is likely your strongest and most adept trait. Most Romans of note which you encounter will have at least one renowned stat or skill -- it's necessary to rise high, after all. (Levels 15-17) (+4 Modifier)
VIII. Epic: You are one of the greatest in Rome at this, and your exceptional talent for it is spoken of from Italia to Aegyptus. Actions you take with this are incredibly likely to succeed. (Level 18) (+6 Modifier)
IX. Legendary: You are legendary, a generational talent whose renown and legend will long outlive you. It is almost impossible for you to fail at any task involving this. (Level 19) (+8 Modifier)
X. Mythical: You are on the level of the gods, a talent that has never been seen before and will never be seen again. Plato, Alexander, Heracles -- these are the myths of our time, and you can count your name alongside theirs. For you, failure at this is laughable. (Level 20) (+10 Modifier)
Your Reputation is how you are seen in Rome. Reputation Ranks go from 1-20, and Reputation can be negative or positive. For example, someone with Rank 8 Reputation could be Recognized and beloved by the people -- or they could be widely disliked, their name spat upon by the masses. You can work to flip your reputation from good to bad, or vice versa, but doing so will normally knock you down a rank or two -- you're no longer doing the thing you were famous for after all.
You are the son of a family of some small status, hailing from the rolling Roman countryside. Your 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. In his youth, he won great wealth and glory in the distant fields of Spain, 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 --- until your mother died in childbirth. The servants say his heart went with her, but that, like a true soldier, he stayed in this world to do his duty and see you and your sisters to adulthood. Now, mere months after you have reached your age of majority, his long service is finally over. Lucius Cingulatus Atellus has finally passed into the arms of the gods -- leaving you, his only son, as the new head of the family.
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 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.
During your youth, your father struggled to instill in you the values and morals of a true Roman citizen, teaching you all that he believed you needed to know to make your way in Roman society. Of all the skills he taught you, however, you took to a few like a fish to water or a bird to wing. These skills, above all others, you have continued to hone for your entire life, refining and practicing them day in and day out.
Pick Two.
[] 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.
You are not defined only by your skills, however. You have a defining trait, a trait which not only gives you an advantage over the many other men seeking to make their fortunes in Rome, but is so striking and memorable that it comes to mind whenever men think of you. Should you gain the fame and glory you seek, it will be as inexorably tied to your name as your very flesh.
[] 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.
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
Please create a plan and spoiler it. Votes not in plan format WILL NOT be accepted.
As well, discussion and explanation of votes and choices is encouraged and rewarded.
[X] Plan Far-Seeing Legate
-[X] The Patrician
-[x] War -[X] Speech
-[x] The Gift of Minerva
January 4th, 86 BC
668 Years After The Founding of Rome
The Year of Cinna and Marius
As you watch, the augur holds up the raven's corpse high over the brazier, allowing the blood softly spurting from it's neck to drip down into the open flames, where it meets the fire with an acrid sizzle. The heady smell of burning blood rises into the morning air, mixing with the heavy scent of smoke rising from the braziers.
You stand on a low hillside half a mile from your family estate, accompanied only by your sister and a few of your retainers. It is a humid morning, and the damp, hot air seems to cling to your very bones, pasting the inner robes of your toga to your skin with sweat. Most of your slaves came back with your father from Hispania and handle the humidity with ease, but all the Romans on the hill are covered in a thin film of perspiration — with the notable exception of the augur. An old, hairless man with a wrinkled face and dripping eyelids, he stands almost entranced over the tall iron brazier, his face lit by the dancing flames, intensely watching each drop of blood spatter into the fire. Long after the bird must have bled dry, he keeps his eyes fixed on the flame, reading the flickering lights for some inscrutable sign.
Finally, after some minutes, he sets the bird aside and reaches for a bowl of mixed herbs and spices. You recognize some, like juniper and holly, but mixed in with them are strange plants you have never seen. As you look on, the augur chants something you cannot quite make out under his breath, then slowly upends the bowl into the fire. Instantly, the flames shoot higher, roaring up with a flare of sparks and filling the air with a sickly sweet smell, like that of rotting roses. After a moment, the flames settle, but the new smell joins the blood and the smoke mixing in the air. You do not know if it is the disorienting smell or the heat playing tricks with your mind, but you would swear the sky grows darker as well.
The old augur raises his hands over the flame, then casts his eyes to the heavens, speaking aloud in a voice cracked with age.
"Jupiter Rex, I beseech thee, grant me a sign. This man, a fatherless son, seeks the the favor of the gods before sets out for Rome. He wishes to know what his future holds. O Jove, lord of the skies, grant him your favor, I implore thee."
His words said, the augur leans in, closes his eyes and takes a deep whiff of the smoke. For a long moment he is still, then his face contorts strangely. His eyes flicker open, but where before they were cloudy and tinged with white, through the smoke of the brazier they seem clear and bright, shining —no, burning— with otherworldly furor. They gaze beyond you, beyond the hill, to someplace not of earth.
His eyes flicker and move across the landscape as you watch, studiously observing every hill, every cloud, every blade of grass and every speck dust for a sign from the gods. This, you know, is the job of the augurs. They watch wind blow and grass grow for hours, and then, from a thousand inscrutable signs, they proclaim the word of the gods.
Suddenly, the old man's gaze flickers to your right, and you hear a sharp intake of breath as his eyes grow wide. You turn your head in the direction where he now looks, and what you see gives you pause. There, amidst the dead branches of a tree hunched at the hill's edge, framed with the light of the rising sun, sits perched a great eagle. His feathers shine lustrously even in the pale grey of the morning, and his sinewy muscles are visible under his coat as he preens himself. His coat and talons are slick with blood, and his golden coat is flecked with the gore of his last meal. He is a sight to behold, as fierce and mighty as Jove himself, a winged lord of the heavens. In that still moment, you look upon death itself given wings, and you understand why the aquila is the symbol of Rome.
The king of the skies turns a golden eye towards the Romans below him, regarding your group with a gaze as proud as any king who ever ruled over men. He sniffs at the air for a long moment, as if scenting for more worthy prey, and then, with a final look of disdain, he takes to golden wing. In mere moments, he is a vanishing speck in the grey sky.
"You are blessed beyond measure, boy. Jupiter Rex has sent you a sign, the greatest sign of all, one of his own emissaries."
The augur's voice seems to shake you as if from a dream, and you turn around to face the old man. He hobbles slowly towards you, and whatever sorcery made his eyes young again is gone. His near-blind orbs are fixed upon you, and spittle flies from his lips as he speaks, his creaking voice raised into a pitch.
"Know this, then: The gods have blessed thy journey, and more. Death and glory both lie before you in equal measure, one hand-in-hand with the other, as inescapable as the dawn itself. You will go to Rome, child of the Cinguilii. You will walk the streets of your father's fathers and they will burn before you. Rome knows your faces, for they are her own. Wolves shall take flight by your hand, and eagles find their wings under your gaze, but trust in no man, save the man whom no man trusts. You will walk side-by-side with the sun, but never eclipse him, or he will blind you until the three are one. Last and greatest of all, fear and love wait before you, two sides of the same coin, twinned like life and death."
He pauses a long moment, and reaches out a weathered hand in the direction where the eagle flew, as if to shout a too-late warning.
"Take care in thy choice, for one shall win you endless fame, while the other must bring only an end to your name."
Epic Augury Recieved: The Sign of the Aquila: Before you came to Rome, it was foretold you would meet death and glory in equal measure, along with other portents that seemed at the time inscrutable, but may well prove deathly important in the days and months to come.
In Rome, the will of the gods was everything, and the augurs read the will of the gods. By discerning and reading signs and portents in the earth and upon the heavens, the augurs of Rome could interpret the words of the gods themselves, and speak of the future. No war would be declared, no army march to battle, no vote undertaken, unless the augurs were first consulted. The augurs could not err, not ever -- but men might err in how they interpreted the prophecies themselves.
In your time in Rome, you will have to consult the augurs yourself on many occasions. You can receive Lesser, Higher, and Greater Auguries, which give positive or negative modifiers for almost any action you are about to undertake. An Epic Augury, like the one you have just received, can have effects on the very fate of Rome itself, and can aid you in shaping it. Aside from their mechanical effects, auguries can provide important clues and hints to future game events, or the outline of a particular storyline or plot.
In a word -- beware the Ides of March.
"You simply cannot! I refuse!"
The clay jar shatters into pieces beside your head, and you have to narrowly duck to avoid the next.
Your sister, Cingulla, scowls as she grasps for another winejar to hurl at your person. Proserpina, your cook, stands in the corner of the room, trying to make herself invisible even as the kitchen she has spent most of the morning cleaning is forcefully repainted with wine.
It is a week after the augury on the hill, and two days before the scheduled marriage between your sister and a neighbor of yours, one Sergius Curtilius. Curtilius, for his part, is an altogether disagreeable and rash young man. In fact, you have quarreled with before on several occasions, when his hunts strayed into your family's land irregardless of boundary. Were it up to you, you would have nothing to do with the man. However, his father, Curtilius the Elder, is a man of some small name in the Senate, and one of the final acts of your father's life was the careful negotiation of a marriage between his son and your sister, through which your family would gain a friend with power in Rome. After your father's death, however, it was your sister's hope that you might renegotiate (or outright cancel) the marriage. That you have not is the reason that you have to duck to avoid yet another winejar.
"Sister! Get ahold of yourself!" Your words are ill-chosen, and merely prompt a furious search for another projectile.
"Ahold of myself? Ahold of myself? I am not a whore for you to marry off to that pig-faced oyster sucker Curtilius!" Your sister's face is literally red with sheer rage, her hair a black halo in the air as she curses and spits at you.
You try again. "He is wealthy enough, and--"
"I don't care if he's the richest man in Rome, he's still a rotten fool!"
Seeing that this will get you nowhere, you beat a quick retreat to an adjoining room, chased by flying clayware. You know full well that when your sister gets into one of her rages, there are few men that can calm her.
Of course, were it up to you alone, you would certainly cancel the marriage. But Curtilius' father is of some influence in Rome, and does not like being snubbed. What's more, tradition holds that cancelling a marriage so close to it's date is simply not done. Of course, the Curtiliuses might be swayed with words or coin, but even then, you would be left without allies of note in Rome when you set off for the city tomorrow. It is a choice you will have to mull on -- or, of course, you could simply force your sister into the marriage, though she would doubtless resent both you and her new husband.
Tercerus, your oldest mentor, regards you closely, his weathered brown face peering into your own. Once a slave, your father freed the old man when he saved his life in Spain, and he has served the Cingulii faithfully forever since. He has been like a second father to you since your youth, and it was Tercerus who taught you how to hunt and swim, and later, how to fight. You love him more than any man now living.
"You are a fool and an idiot, Quintus."
His voice is soft and harsh, and his words bring a hushed quiet from the gathered slaves and servants around the two of you. You stand in the courtyard of your estate on the morning of your long-awaited journey to Rome. The horses are loaded and packed, and your carts have been filled with all you will need. The only obstacle now stands before you, as ageless and brown as the day he came back with your father from far-off Hispania.
"Rome has ruined greater men than thee. What is to stop it from doing so again? I tell you again, Roman prophesy or no Roman prophesy, stay far from that cursed place."
You hold back a heavy sigh. This is the third time in as many days the old man has given you a speech warning you against your planned trip to Rome to begin your hopeful political career. It was foreboding at first, but now you simply find it rote. If he was any other servant, he might be whipped for such words, but Tercerus is like family to you -- more, even -- and so you simply bite your tongue and let him speak.
"Persist in this foolishness if you want, but I will not be returning. I swore long ago on your gods and mine that I would never return to that blasted city, and not even Lucius' son can compel me to break such an oath."
This catches your attention. Tercerus is the head of your household, the overseer of your domicile and the chief of your servants. He organizes events, sees to it that your messages are sent, and ensures that your will is done within the walls of your home. It is to him you turn if you need something --anything-- done, and done well. His loss would be a devastating blow before you have even begun.
You open your mouth to speak, but the old servant has turned his back and is already striding away. His last words echo over his back, foreboding and chilling all at once.
"Rome will be the end of you, Quintus. The end of us all."
Voting
The Servant
With Tercerus refusing to go, you will need a new head of household, against all your wishes. You have your pick from the servants in your home, but none of them are as able and capable as him you now leave behind -- or are they? Out of necessity, and for the stable maintenance of your estate while you are away, you must leave the ones you do not select behind.
[] Proserpina: Your cook, Proserpina. A small Roman woman who served as your youngest sister's wet nurse before becoming the family cook, she is unassuming and quiet. However, this initial timidity hides a dagger-sharp wit and one of the craftiest minds you have ever met. Whenever a sweet or snack was stolen from her kitchen, she could track down the offending party without fail, and near everything that occurs on the estate reaches her ears in some way or the other. It is only recently you have learned that when your father was in Spain, she acted as his go-between for all activities he needed performed sub rosa, or in great secret.
[] Glaber: Nicknamed Glaber, or 'the bald', for his lack of hair, this tall, dark-skinned Carthaginian was a mercenary from Africa who fought for Rome in Spain. He performed so well as your father's bodyguard that he brought him back with him to Rome, where he saved his life on more than one occasion. His ebony skin and bald pate draw many eyes, and, it seems, blades. His lanky body is riddled with faded scars, a testament to his ability as a fighter, and as a bodyguard. He has no great skill in subtlety, but, one might argue, he has no need of it, for you have never met a man who could best Glaber in a fight and walk away on both legs.
[] Mancina: Mancina is a Roman citizen, not a slave or a servant, but he has long served as the steward of your father's estate. With a whiplike tongue and unnervingly steely gaze, the slender, pale man sees to it that the slaves are asleep in their beds at the correct time, that the gates are shut and opened at the appointed moments, that the meals are served exactly on time, every time -- that your estate runs like the sun, precise and unerring. He is a man of schedule and order, rigid in his ways and frighteningly harsh in correcting all deviations from said schedule.
[] Theo: A young Greek with happy eyes, Theo was a slave, then a gladiator until he lost use of his right arm. Useless as a fighter or a worker, he was tossed aside to die, but instead came to your father's attention due to his particular skill with people. To put it simply, one cannot help but be charmed by him, from the shine of his teeth to the twinkle in his eye. Your father would send him to the markets to buy a cartful of grain, and the Greek would return grinning with ten for the same price. The servants skip to do his word, if only because disappointing him would be like pissing in the eye of the sun itself.
[] Tercerus: Force Tercerus to go. He must, and he knows it. The old man may go on about oaths all he likes, but he is the ablest diplomat, warrior, and leader on your staff. He rose to the rank of centurion under your father, and saw blood and dust on the fields of Spain. You need him by your side in the far deadlier streets of Rome, no matter what he says. He may resent you deeply for it, but he would not betray you, now or ever, -- he loved your father too much for that, and loves you even more still, as a son.
The Curtiline Marriage
Your sister adamantly refuses her marriage to Sergius Curtilinus, but tradition demands it. To turn it aside now would not only cost much in wealth and respect, but risk incurring the wrath of Curtilinus the Elder, a Senator with friends throughout the Republic. However, you feel your sister's grievance, and can you truly send your eldest sibling into the arms of a man you know to be abhorrent?
[] Marriage: It will go through, your sister's objections aside. She cannot stand in the way of something that might improve the fortunes of your entire house, and save an ancient family from ignominy.
[] Negotiation: Your father may have set up this marriage, but you are the head of your family now. You will sit down with Curtilinus the Elder and negotiate an end to this. Your sister does not want to get married, and you will not force her, but perhaps something can still be gained from this.
[] Trickery: You cannot cancel the marriage, but you cannot afford to make a new enemy in Rome. You hatch a plot: you will implicate the younger Curtilinus in a vicious crime on your land, great enough to cause some minor scandal at the very least, and enough perhaps to even bring charges against him. Something of this level will be more than enough to have the marriage canceled, and will drag down Curtilinus the Elder's name in Rome while leaving your own untouched. If caught, however, it will be positively disastrous to your reputation.
[] Annulment: To the hells with this. You are the head of your family and your estate. Curtilinus is a fool and a braggard, and he shall never be counted as your brother. You cancel the marriage without fanfare or ceremony, and set about finding new matches for your sister in Rome.
[] Write-In: You will deal with this matter in your own time.
Patron
In Rome, every great man needs a patron, someone to support him and give him aid. The patronage of one beloved by the people might catapult a Roman to glory, but should the opinions of the mob or the Senate turn against your patron, you might fall with him. Many an aspiring politician has found himself doomed when targeted by his patron's enemies. Of course, choose a patron who is too weak, or 'safe', and his weakness might become permanently associated with your name. Lastly, of course, every man in Rome has chosen a side in this brutal civil war, and by taking on a patron, you take on his allegiances -- allegiances that may prove deadly in the years to come. You have written to a great man of Rome, who once knew your father in his days as a Legate, seeking his patronage.
[] Scaevola: Quintus Mucius Scaevola, known better as Scaevola Pontifex, is the Pontifex Maximus, the chief priest of Rome and arguably one of the most powerful men in the Republic. Soldier, senator, plebian or patrician, all men must bow their heads before the spokesman of the gods on earth. A supporter and friend of the rebel general Sulla, he is widely disliked by the Marians, the followers of Sulla's archrival Marius, who even now controls Rome. However, the power and dignity of the Pontifex Maximus is far too great for the Marians to act against him. Taking on Scaevola's patronage would be tantamount to allying yourself with Sulla -- who even now returns to Rome with an army at his back. Depending on who wins the civil war, this could be a wise choice -- or a foolish one.
[] Gratidianus: The praetor Gratidianus is one of the most powerful and beloved of the populares, those Senators in Rome who ally themselves with the plebians and the common folk. His currency reforms as a praetor have made him so wildly beloved by the people of Rome that he is worshiped on street corners, and a veritable cult has sprung up around his person. This living cult of personality has enhanced and magnified his reputation in the Republic, making him one of the most popular men in Rome. His meteoric rise through the Marian ranks, as well as the overwhelming support of the plebs, means that a consular seat is not far off in his future. If, indeed, you made a friend of a future consul, your own rise would be all but assured.
[] Cinna: The powerful consul Lucius Cornelius Cinna. An advantageous powermonger, described by your father as a roach with no allegiance, he has tied his fate to that of Marius, to great result, becoming elected Consul this very year alongside Marius. He is thus second-in-command of the Marian faction of the civil war, which even now controls Rome. Though he and your father served together for a time, your father was left with a poor impression of the man, and in his dying days, upon learning of his rise to the consulate, said that such times bid ill tidings for Rome herself. Regardless of his personal qualities, Cinna is one of the most powerful men in the Republic at the moment, and has responded positively to your initial overtures for patronage.
[] Sertorius: The general Sertorius is perhaps one of Rome's greatest generals. Your father served under him for a time in Hispania, and spoke of him often as one of the most brilliant, dedicated, and gifted men that the Republic had ever produced, a fast friend and a loyal ally. A New Man, he was a public speaker and lawyer before becoming a soldier. While serving in Hispania, he won the Grass Crown, the Republic's most celebrated military order, earning him automatic entry into the Senate, and catapulting him into mythic status in the eyes of the Roman people. A noted populares, Sertorius is nevertheless only a tentative ally of Marius and the Marians, but should Sulla ever win the war, his head would be the first on the chopping block.
[] No One: You need no sponsor to prove yourself to the Roman people. You have a good tongue and good wits, and you can win elections without the support of any man. Of course, you will have to find a place to stay. And procure your own food. And run your own campaign. And...
Cursus Honorum
To begin upon the Cursus Honorum, you must first be elected to a position by the Roman people -- or be appointed. What position would you like to seek?
[] Military Tribune: The post of military tribune, or commander, has long been the first stepping-stone on the path to recognition for any Roman man. The people of Rome are allowed to elect sixteen tribunes to the post each year, and the candidates are all young men of good standing around the age of 20 -- in a word, yourself. It will require all your skill and charisma to get elected over men with more beloved names, but it is a feat you are confident you can manage.
[] Broad-Striped Tribune: Five out of the six tribunes assigned to a legion are elected by the people, but the sixth, or broad-striped tribune, is assigned by the Senate. A young man of Senatorial or Patrician rank, he is afforded more respect and dignity than a normal tribune. You would have to appeal to your patron, whoever he might be, to speak on your behalf in the Senate. (Unavailable if you select No Patron)
[] Staff Tribune: You could seek out a position in the staff of a legate or powerful commander. If you could win over such a commander (perhaps through the aid of your sponsor) you would become the aide to this commander, personally selected by him to aid him on and off the battlefield. Such firsthand experience of command could shape you into a true leader.
[] No Position: You could always take a year to build up your name and position in Rome, and perhaps see if next year's elections might offer you a stronger position from which to start up the cursus honorum. As you are still young, such a break would not harm your career -- and depending on the events of the intervening year, might actually help it significantly.
There is now a TWELVE-HOUR MORATORIUM on all votes.
Use this time to discuss the choices available and create different Plans. As previously discussed, any votes not in plan form, or submitted before the moratorium is up, will not be counted.
As always, discussion is rewarded.
Roman politics were a confusing, brutal, and byzantine (heh) mess. I'll provide a few quick pointers for those of you not in the know or just a little rusty on your 2000-year-old political intricacies.
First off, the core of Roman politics in the late Republic: the Roman Senate, and it's divisions, the populares and the optimates.
The Roman Senate was the core of the Republic. Headed by two consuls who were elected every year, the Senate was composed of land-owning nobilis, Romans descended from Romans who had already sat on the Senate, or who had earned inclusion into the Senate through bravery or prestige. The populares and optimates were largely unofficial factions in the Roman Senate, organized along political lines.
The populares, as the name implies, were of the people. They courted the plebians and the lower classes, promising to fix their problems, inequalities of wealth, and provide them with jobs, food, and security -- the same things the poor have always wanted. The populares was often the party of demagogues and rabble-rousers, senators who rose to power by giving long speeches about making Rome great again. It was notably also the party of soldiers such as Gaius Marius, Mark Antony, and Julius Caesar, all of whom won glory on the battlefield and harnessed it into popular support at home. The populares were defined by their willingness to appeal to the people and use their popular support to defy the traditions and rules of the Republic, ultimately circumventing the democratic ideal of Rome.
As the game starts, the populares are the party of Gaius Marius, Rome's most famous general, who, with popular support, has seized the city of Rome from his enemy Sulla and the rival optimates.
The optimates were the polar opposite of the populares. Anchored in four centuries of tradition, they were the party of the aristocracy and the patricians, devoted to reducing the power of the plebians and the common folk and increasing the power of the Senate itself. By their nature conservative, they sought to keep the status quo of the Republic and prevent opportunistic generals like Caesar from becoming dictators.
Now, however, they are the party of Lucius Cornelius Sulla, a general almost as famed as Marius, who opposes the progressive reforms of Marius and his populares. Overseas defeating a rebellion in Greece when Marius seized power, Sulla is returning to Rome with a legion at his back as the game begins, and is supported by many old and powerful noble families in Rome herself.
These were not hard parties as we think of them today, but rather described the way a Senator chose to act. A Senator could, at different times through his life, court the people and support hardline legislation that curbed their rights. The populares and optimates were used to group senators who, at that moment in time, chose to consistently appeal to either the people or the aristocracy for support. They did not always work together as a unified party, and some often switched allegiances as convenient.
Now, one wonders, how can this be a democracy if the aristocrats control everything?
Well, to put it simply, they don't.
The People's Assembly, composed of all the plebians, or common people, of Rome, elects a Plebian Tribune each year. These tribunes represent the common people to the largely patrician Senate, and can convene the Senate, propose legislation, and act for the people in legal matters. Their most important power, however, is the veto, which gives the people a measure of control over the largely patrician Senate. Any assault on the person of a tribune is against the law -- a fact many tribunes have used to their advantage to physically stop the Senate from voting on a bill.
The plebs, optimates, and populares will all come into conflict in the waning years of the Republic, and Roman politics still hide a ocean's worth of complexity and mazelike contradictions, but this starter should get you brushed up on the terms that will be used frequently in this Quest.
[X]Plan Education
-[X] Proserpina
-[X] Negotiation
-[X] Scaevola
-[X] No Position
January 12th, 86 BC
668 Years After the Founding of Rome
The Year of Cinna and Marius
The sun beats down on you as you push through the thronging crowds, but you are almost heedless of it. Your country-raised eyes flicker from sight to sight as you walk through the crowded streets, alighting on one thing after the next. Strange smells waft through the air, accompanied by a cacophony of sounds that you cannot even begin to place, and sights stranger still. Here, a slaver sells men with skin the color of chalk and hair the color of gold, and there a rotund man in a flamboyantly striped toga makes his way through the crowded streets, flanked by a veritable army of servants. Buildings of stone and marble tower around you, carved with the history of your people in living stone, and the calls of the priests echo like bells through their winding alleys.
This is the city of four hundred years, the city of your fathers, the city of Romulus and his heirs. This is Rome, the caput mundi, capital of all the Roman world -- and you stand in the Great Forum, it's beating heart.
"You love it, don't you?"
The softly-spoken words draw your attention to the waifish woman trailing at your side. Dressed in a modest shift, with her stringy hair tied back in a bun, Proserpina looks the very model of an unassuming Roman woman -- even though she is anything but. Your newest chief servant gives you a small smile as she gestures to the Forum around you.
"I can see the wonder in your gaze, dominus. It reminds me of your father. There was nothing he loved more than to come back from a campaign and soak in the city with his eyes."
"It is awe-inspiring, truly." You say, with utmost truthfulness. You can honestly say you have never gazed upon anything quite like Rome before in your life.
Proserpina looks as if she is about to say something, but her lips twist shut as a tall man with firey red hair strides up out of the crowd, flanked by dark-eyed servants armed with knives and cudgels. His eyes light up upon seeing you, and he lowers into a bow -- though perhaps not as low a bow as he might have given. At his side, the servants merely incline their heads while keeping their eyes fixed on the crowd, as if watching for some unseen threat.
"You are the young Cingulatus, I assume?"
Warily, you answer in the positive, and a great smile breaks his face.
"I am Rufus, a servant of the Pontifex. He regrets he cannot make an appearance himself, but he has sent me to escort you to his estate."
"And the armed guards?" Proserpina's voice is deceptively soft, as if asking about the price of fish.
Rufus' cheerful expression doesn't change, but you see one of his hands fidget nervously. "A necessity, my lady, of the unfortunate...ah...climate in the city. My master and I are protected from the rigors of political life by his status as Pontifex Maximus, but you and your own master are afforded no such considerations by his enemies."
Not for the first time, you wonder if you have chosen the right side in this conflict. You nod in understanding, and Rufus inclines his head in apology.
"Please, follow me." With that, he turns and strides away. As you begin to follow him, you cast a final look around the Forum, your wonder now tempered with the stark reality of your political situation. To speak with enemies of Marius in such a time is to invite death upon yourself -- a fact all too heavy in your mind as you gather yourself and follow after Rufus.
As Pontifex Maximus, Scaevola officially lives in the Domus Publica, or State House, and has abandoned all material trappings of his past life to fully serve as the spokesman of the Gods on earth.
Unofficially, however, he is still the head of the gens Mucia, and so is entitled to their ancestral holdings -- namely, the palatial Domus Mucia, a great and mighty residence built first by Scaevola's grandfather, who was himself Pontifex Maximus in his day. It has been built upon and added to by successive generations of Mucians, and now stands atop the Caelian Hill, where the well-to-do of Rome make their seats, as one of the grandest residences held by any Roman.
As Rufus leads you up the winding hill through the homes of the elite and powerful, he quickly explains that though Scaevola cannot officially live in the Domus Mucia, there is no law preventing him from using it as an emergency residence if the Domus Publica is unsuitable or damaged. As it is the sole discretion of the Pontifex himself as to what is unsuitable, Scaevola often finds himself 'forced' to retire to his palatial estates.
As Rufus finishes his story of the bizarre intricacies of Republican law, you and your party finally arrive at the gilded gates of the Domus Mucia. At your approach, the slaves positioned at either side of the gate push it open, exposing the verdant courtyard of the home. The redheaded servant leads you past the flowering gardens into the wide and airy halls of the domus, through a grand entrance room lined with golden frescoes, and past a pool room you have no doubt is larger than some Romans' homes. Beside you, Proserpina's eyes are as wide as quail's eggs as she takes it all in, and you feel much the same. You had always thought your estate was considerable, but besides this, your domus is a peasant's hovel.
Finally, you arrive in a second-story room which, while decorated in much the same manner as the rest of the domus, is dominated by the view available from the vast balcony to which it opens. From this angle and height, the entire expanse of Rome is visible, a great mass of temples and homes and markets, and beyond, on the horizon, the thin blue thread of the Tiber. It is a breathtaking sight, and so, for a moment, you do not even notice Scaevola.
The old man sits in a lush velvet chair on the balcony's edge. His skin is thick and tanned from years abroad campaigning, and his face is thin and lean with age and wisdom. However, his most distinctive feature is undoubtedly his eyes. They are grey, hard and sharp, as if hewn out of stone and set into his face, and they flicker over you dispassionately, like a bird studying the carcass of it's prey. Scaevola does not rise to greet you as decorum might expect, but instead simply gestures to the seat in front of him.
"Sit, boy." His voice is demanding, rough.
You glance around you only to find that Rufus and Proserpina have taken advantage of that unnatural skill which every servant has to vanish when they are not needed. You are alone in the room with one of the most respected and powerful men in the city. Slowly, you pace across the room and take the seat before Scaevola, with Rome at your back.
For a long time, he simply studies you. His eyes crawl across your face, etching into every line and crevice. Finally, after what seems like hours, he speaks.
"You have a soldier's arms -- so I assume Lucius taught you of battle." You nod, and he continues. "Very good. I would expect nothing less from him. I see you carry yourself as he did. Will you serve half as well, I wonder?"
He pauses for a long moment, gazing out into the distance at the city, now bathed in orange by the setting sun.
"Your father was my enemy, boy. He was a populist, a people's soldier. But he was a steadfast man, a good Roman, and true. Not like these...Marians." He spits the word like a curse. "Marians -- as if Marius has any control over them still. The men who rule this city now are rabble, agitators with more ideals than sense. They butcher fathers in the streets and their sons in their cribs. They hold no respect for decorum or honor, tradition or legacy."
Scaevola lapses into silence for a few seconds, then continues.
"I will take you under my wing no matter your stance or your views, be assured of that. You are Lucius' son, and it is the least I can do for the son of a man I admired in life. But if I am to make you into something, anything, in this city, I must know what it is you hold to. You have already picked a side simply by entering these halls, but I wish to know what lies in your heart, Atellus."
"What do you truly believe?"
Populares [] You believe in the freedom and equality of all Roman citizens, in the right of every Roman to his own word and voice. This, to you, overrides all other concerns. You speak to the people, telling them that you might see their dreams fulfilled.
--Radical [] What is tradition but a chain to keep Romans enslaved? The mob speaks with one voice, and you have chosen to listen.
--Idealist [] You do not simply pay lip service to the ideas of honesty and fairness. Plebian or patrician alike, all Romans should stand equally and have their voices heard. For is every citizen not a Roman true? Optimate [] Tradition. Honor. The way of the ancestors. This is what Rome was built upon. This is what has brought us four centuries of glory. Those who would see it torn down would see Rome herself torn down. The law, the Senate, the sword -- these are what built the Republic, and these are what keep it safe still.
--Conservative [] Rome was built by it's patricians, it's nobilis, by those of ancient blood and ancient word. They are at the top because they have proven themselves, time and again, to be the Republic's finest and brightest.
--Traditionalist [] The republican traditions of Rome are the finest in the world, built upon the backs of the Greeks and the Etruscans. They have stood for centuries, and they cannot --should not-- be changed. Such is the way of the ancestors. Such is the law of rock and stone and sea. Such is the will of the Gods. Opportunist [] Populares, Optimate, they're just different names for old men who hate one another. You are more than willing to use whichever label is necessary at the moment to secure victory in the marbled halls of Rome.
Scaevola leans back in his chair and nods. In the growing darkness, you cannot tell if it is disgust or admiration which glints in his stony eyes.
"Not what I expected, but...your father might approve, I think, that you have such strongly held convictions, whatever they may be."
"Now..." The Pontifex Maximus leans back in his chair. "...let us see about making yours a name that is respected in Rome, hmm?"
Voting
(A Note: The politics vote above must be part of any plan, and is not a separate vote.)
Connections
With Scaevola's help, you start seeking out connections in the city, and trying to make your name known about Rome. This is not only conducive to getting elected, it will help you begin to build a powerbase in the city. Scaevola can introduce you to several different groups, but be careful of your associations, for they may well come to define you.
The Patricians [] You begin to mingle with Rome's elite, the mightiest men in the mightiest city on Earth -- the patricians. Gaudy parties, bacchanal orgies, festivities that last weeks and months -- such is the way of the great. While senators themselves cannot engage in such activities, making connections with their family members and friends will give you inroads to some of Rome's most powerful. The last of the true optimates of the city can be found here by those who know where to look, keeping their heads low lest they lose them altogether.
The Plebians [] While not as wealthy as their patrician cousins, the plebian nobilis of Rome are just as fond of excess. Their parties are often louder, rowdier affairs, the sign of people who, a handful of generations ago, were tavern-owners and fishmongers. The populares draw the bulk of their members from the plebian nobility, and it is the plebian nobility who prosper and celebrate the rise of Marius.
The Soldiery [] The armies of Marius, Suetonius, and Cinna are even now encamped in Rome. Officers, Tribunes, and commanders from over seven legions spend their days and nights whiling away the time while trying to keep their legionnaires at the ready should Sulla return. Brawling and looting is not an uncommon occurrence in the streets near to the camps, and the nights often gleam with fires started by a handful of soldiers who had too much to drink. Associating with these officers is dangerous -- if not to your person, then to your reputation -- but may hold many rewards. Men will fight all the harder for one who has drunk with them and traded blows with them. If your constitution is strong enough to handle it, this may be a good stepping stone to earning the love of the army -- and in Rome, he who is loved by the army is loved by the people.
The Priesthood [] The College of Priests holds some of the most important and powerful men in the Republic. From the augurs to the high priests of the gods, each and every one of these men is vital to the continuing function of Rome and the livelihood of her people. Though they ostensibly stand apart from political squabbling, in reality, the priests are some of the most politically powerful men in Rome. As Scaevola's protege, you are allowed an unprecedented level of access to all levels of the College of Priests, and you take use of it, making friends with some of the most esteemed names in Rome.
Education
Quintus Mutius Scaevola is one of the busiest men in all of Rome. To him fall the duties of recording the acts of the priests and magistrates, of administering and changing the calendar, of seeing to it that the rituals and sacrifices are performed correctly, of keeping the spiritual and economic engines of the Republic functioning. It is nothing short of a miracle, then, that he can take time from his busy schedule to impart you with a mere handful of his prodigious skill.
Administration [] In his time as governor of Asia long ago, Scaevola reformed the economy and the law alike, administering his province so well that the people who lived there instituted a holiday in his honor, one which is celebrated still. Now, as Pontifex, he leverages that great skill into ensuring traditions are properly observed, that the taxes are collected fairly and justly, and that the city runs as it should. Scaevola will no doubt go down in history as one of Rome's greatest governors and administrators, and so you ask him to teach you how to govern, how to rule, how to administer Roman law justly to all citizens of the Empire. (Stewardship and Administration +++)
Law [] Scaevola is the lawyer. He has single-handedly reworked and rewritten many of the most antiquated and obsolete laws of the Republic, and created many of his own. His treatises on civil law and jurisprudence have become almost mythical among Roman advocates in his own lifetime, and his simplification and codification of some of the most complex laws of the Republic served to make him a household name long before he became Pontifex. His speeches stand as some of the finest works of oratory not only of your time, but of Roman history. There is no better teacher in the law, living or dead. (Speech, Oratory, and Law ++++)
Warfare [] Like all Romans, Scaevola served in the legions in his youth. While no great general, his age means he has served and fought in well over a dozen wars across his lifetime, giving him a mighty well of knowledge from which to draw. He cannot teach you more of strategy and warfare, but he tells you of the realities of command, of fighting and struggling and dying alongside your men. It is harsh knowledge, true knowledge and by the time you are done, you understand just a bit more of how to make a man willing to die for you. (Command and Military ++)
Favors
While Scaevola is giving you much --education, protection, and a path to the Senate-- out of the kindness of his heart, he expects some things in return. Every now and then, he asks you for a 'favor' or two, something particularly suited to your skills. If you perform well enough, your skills will be improved, you will rise in his favor, and you may even earn yourself fame and recognition in the eyes of the people. Of course, should you fail him or perform below expectations, there will be consequences.
Advocacy [] Teronius, a good friend of Scaevola, has found himself in a spot of legal trouble, and is being prosecuted by one of his enemies, with risk of exile. This enemy is the brother of a noted populare, and Scaevola's position is such that he cannot risk advocating for him publicly. However, as a relative unknown, you might easily stand for Teronius as his advocate. If the case is a success, you will earn prestige and accolades, as well as respect among the optimates.
Debt Collection [] Cincornius, a debt collector in the employ of Scaevola, has been withholding funds for months, skimming from both the priesthood and the Roman people. Scaevola has decided to entrust you with returning the people's coin to them -- by any means necessary.
Training [] Scaevola has hired a new batch of guards for the the College of the Vestal Virgins, in order to protect the holy priestesses from the depredations of lesser men. Of course, these guards must be thoroughly evaluated and trained to ensure that they are both not a threat to the priestesses and that they are capable of protecting the sacred sisters themselves. Scaevola has placed you in charge of training these men, and has indirectly placed the fate of Rome's holiest women in your hands.
Free Time
As a young man who has just reached his majority, you have an exceptional amount of free time, perhaps more so than any other Roman in the city. You may choose to enjoy the sights of Rome -- or you could try to increase your knowledge in an area in which you are deficient. (Pick Two)
The Circuses [] You spend your time at the circuses, where many of Rome's elite go to relax and unwind. Amidst the roaring crowd, it is more than possible to make fast friends.
Exhibition [] Young men of a martial bent often spend time practicing the sword in the Forum with the soldiers. Not only is this a good way to improve your skills, you can show off your prowess in battle to the Roman citizenry, and even win acclaim.
Debates [] Men of scholarly or political bent often gather in the Forum to hold debates. Those with a sharp tongue and a quick mind might even win the love of the people by soundly defeating a foe in a public contest of minds, and draw the attention of like-minded men.
Loans [] Seeking to make a little more coin, you spend your time in the Forum loaning out money to Romans who seem able and capable of paying it back. Should they default on their loans, you might even press a case against them.
Recitals [] Many philosophers still practice the ancient Greek oral style, traveling from Greece to Rome in order to recite the ideas and morals of Plato and other great thinkers. You sit down alongside several other Roman youths in the Forum and listen to the words of the elders.
Study Law [] You spend your time studying and reading treatises on the law and natural order, that you might be better equipped in the courts and on the pulpit.
Attend the Senate [] Though only Senators may speak, Senate meetings are free for all Roman citizens to attend. In order to learn of the world which you hope to enter, and better integrate yourself with the people you hope to one day count your peers, you sit in on most every Senate meeting held after your arrival to the city.
There is now a TWELVE-HOUR MORATORIUM on all votes.
Use this time to discuss the choices available and create different Plans. As previously discussed, any votes not in plan form, or submitted before the moratorium is up, will not be counted.
I checked, but it doesn't look like you changed anything I mentioned...
We're still born in 103 BC and belong to the Patrician class (and Optimates party, thanks to Scaevola). Our stats have been adjusted -- our highest scores are still in Intelligence and Military, but 'Oratory' has been changed to 'Speech', and an 'Education' category was added.
But now there's a new slide for 'Skills', and this one is revealing:
Check out those Law and Philosophy scores. Oof, that's even worse than our Administration skill. We definitely need to boost those skills, so I'm even more confident that working with Scaevola and Cicero is the right call. I am not as confident that training guards for the Vestal Virgins is the best use of our time -- @Telamon, will our 'Command' skill be capped at '5' even if we lead the Temple guards? If not, then unless Scaevola's first assassination attempt involves some sort of battle, our skills wouldn't benefit from training the guards. 'Favor > Debt Collector' would be preferred, in that case, especially since we apparently have 'average' Administration skill.
Actually, how does that work? We have 'Poor' Stewardship -- it literally says "You couldn't manage a wine stand" -- yet 'Average' Administration -- "You can run a house decently, but probably not a city." Isn't that an obvious contradiction? A house is a lot more complicated to manage than a wine stand.
Plus, it kinda feels redundant to have a Skill that covers exactly the same material as a Stat. What is the difference between 'Stewardship' and Administration, or between 'Speech' and Oratory? I'm not sure how to interpret our character sheet....
Stewardship is a stat, and is the act of business, of sale and management and financial matters. It essentially governs your financial savvy and head for numbers.
Administration is specifically the art of running a city, of administrating and governing groups or large groups of people effectively. It is a skill, and you must administer something to increase it.
Speech (Note: Now Charisma) is a stat, and governs how well you speak and carry yourself.
Oratory is a skill, and is the art of speaking well to massive crowds of people, and winning them to your side — which someone with a high Charisma stat could certainly do more easily, sure. But just as how people who can speak well in person aren't great orators, so too a high Charisma stat does not mean a high Oratory skill.
Essentially, Stats are your mental capabilities and strengths, while Skills are things you do, and can only be increased by doing said thing.
For example, your military is ridiculously high, but your Command is average. Just because you have a head for tactics and have read a lot of military histories, you're not a master general until you've led men into battle — you're just a boy with a lot of potential.
For doing something, say speaking to the crowd in defense of a client, I will take your Oratory score and give it a bonus from your Charisma score for the purposes of the roll. Now, for, say, convincing a Gaulish warlord not to kill everyone in the province you're governing, that's Diplomacy + Charisma to get the bonus for the roll.
[X] Plan Cicero
[X] Populares
-[X] Idealist
[X] The Priesthood
[X] Law
[X] Training
[X] Exhibition
[X] Recitals
March 6th, 86 BC
668 Years After The Founding Of Rome
The Year of Cinna and Marius.
The year begins with tragedy and fire.
Marius, the great general who has seven times been Consul, collapses in the Curia of a massive heart attack, a titan tumbling to his knees in the very Senate he fought to control. Though treated to the best care the city has to offer, he falls into a deep fever, and lies trapped between this world and the next.
Rome becomes a city unmoored. For half a century, Marius has shaped events around him simply by existing, and even at the doors of death, he continues to exert his mighty influence. His son, Marius the Younger, and his co-consul, Cinna, struggle to keep control of the city he strove to conquer. Men armed with clubs march through the streets, tearing enemies of Marius from their homes and beating them within inches of their lives -- or sometimes killing them outright. Even your sponsor, Scaevola, is forced to withdraw from public after a mob forms against him at a routine public ceremony. As Pontifex, his life is still sacrosanct and holy -- at least, it should be to any who care about the traditions of the Republic. But Rome is a city unhelmed without Marius, and it's traditions seem forgotten.
Marius' legions riot. Fires without count tear through Rome. Mobs sack the Forum. Men vanish in the night only to reappear days later facedown in the Tiber. Shops are looted and their owners slain in their beds. Women fear to walk alone, and men travel armed.
Rome burns.
And then Marius wakes.
On the fifteenth day of the rioting, he emerges from his home hale and unbent, his eyes clear and bright. The Consul lives, and in a voice like thunder, he reproaches his servants and his soldiers. He speaks to them like a father to his children -- no, like a god to his worshipers -- and at once, the Roman mob, the bane of kings and aristocrats alike, disperses. Marius lives, and it seems the greatest man of his generation has saved Rome again, this time by not dying. The populares rally as one behind him, their factionalism and powermongering forgotten. Even the remnants of the optimates fall in line, for they have seen what Rome becomes without Marius at it's head -- a great and mongrel dog, twisting and gnawing upon it's own flesh. For the moment, at least, Marius has unified his rule and solidifed his power in one fell stroke, simply by collapsing on the Senate floor.
In the wake of Marius' illness and miraculous return, Scaevola's power is more unsure than ever before. In order to shore up his foundering powebase, he asks you to recruit and train a new batch of guards for the Temple of the Vestal Virgins. While the Virgins themselves are already adequately protected, Scaevola, as Pontifex, is one of the only men allowed to remain in the Temple indefinitely -- making it the ultimate refuge if the Marians finally overcome tradition and honor enough to seek his head. The men you are training, you would guess, will serve as his last line of defense should all else fail. It is a sign of the state of things in Rome, you reflect, that even a man who has built his life on the backs of tradition and decorum must make contingencies that rely on both of them crumbling.
You manage to rally together twenty-odd men with skilled pasts and good references. Many of them are former legionnaires, and you trim through the selections for those who seem rash, quick to anger, or those who simply don't seem like a good fit to be standing watch over virgins day and night. After careful selection, you come away with a group of men most cohorts in the legions would be envious of, with enough skill and battle experience between them to rival a hundred legionnaires.
Perhaps it is their knowledge and skill which makes training them such a difficult prospect, then. Though you are well-spoken enough and as skilled in martial matters as any Tribune, whipping them into shape is stubbornly difficult. You have to try multiple tacks before you find something that sticks and force them into a training regimen. A part of you understands that this is merely a symptom of your inexperience -- the only men you've ever commanded before this were the guards at your father's estate, and they had to snap to your command. Finally, however, you think you've whipped them into shape, even if they're not as well-drilled as you might have liked.
Training these men gives you ample reason to be in an about the House of the Vestal Virgins, where the holy sisters dwell, with special dispensation from Scaevola. In your time in the House, you interact with many of the priestesses, and though you do not strike off especially well with most of them, you happen to make the acquaintance of the Vestalis Maxima herself, the Greatest of the Vestals. A matronly woman named Galeria, she takes a certain liking to you, and even extends Scaevola's dispensation, allowing you to call upon the Vestalis Maxima whenever she is within her domicile. This is a not-insignificant privilege -- indeed, it is Roman law that a man who lays eyes upon a Vestal Virgin on the day of his execution will be freed from death, and many doomed men have leveraged their friendships with a Virgin to save themselves from the headsman's block.
Apart from the priestesses, you mingle with the priests and holy men who regularly frequent Scaevola's home, where you now reside for the duration of your time in Rome. You have a somewhat better result than with the virgins, and though you do not strike it off with any one priest in particular, you do make decent connections with a great number of very important men who now know your name, including the sons of several very prominent Senators. Your association with Scaevola and the upper echelons of the priesthood does not go unnoticed, and you soon hear from Proserpina that very important people are starting to speak your name and associate it with Scaevola's -- for good or for ill.
(Reputation Increased: Rank I: Notable)
As a reward for your services to him, and in fulfillment of his promise at the year's beginning, Scaevola takes you under his wing during what little free time remains to him as Pontifex Maximus, and begins to teach you of the Laws of the Republic. Rome's laws are winding, byzantine, and complex, but Scaevola has spent his entire life mastering them. He is a living legend in the judicial arts, and as he explains them, even the most maddening intricacies of Roman law simply melt away. At the same time, he teaches you how to hold a crowd, how to speak for hours without tiring as the ancient Greeks did, how to push air through your lungs and bellow in that way which mesmerizes the watching crowd. Though your time is short, you are intelligent and quick-witted, and grasp concepts as quickly as he can explain them. The brilliant teacher meets the gifted student, and you walk away with an understanding of the Law to rival most Romans now living.
Law Education: 1d35000 + 1000 (Legendary Teacher Bonus) + 500 (Gift of Minerva) = 34285 XP
Rank 4: 3,000 XP
Rank 5: 4,000 XP
Rank 6: 5,000 XP
Rank 7: 6,000 XP
Rank 8: 7,000 XP
Rank 9: 8,000 XP (285/9000) XP left to Rank 10
Oratory Education: 1d27000 +400 (Renowned Teacher Bonus) + 500 (Gift of Minerva) = 9413 XP
Rank 10: 9,000 XP
(413/10,000) XP left to Rank 11
Law Increased: Rank 9 (Proficient)
Oratory Increased: Rank 10 (Accomplished)
You attempt to meet with the Senator Curtilius to discuss your sister's marriage, but upon investigating, you find that he fled the city after Marius' collapse, fearing for his life as an Optimate. You make a note to meet with him when he returns from self-imposed exile, but without the pater familias of the Curtilii in attendance, the marriage cannot be cancelled, much less go through.
The great orator Philo of Larissa has come to Rome fleeing his native Athens, where Sulla wars ferociously with the Greek King Mithridates for dominance over Greece. He brings with him ten centuries of Greek knowledge and philosophy, passed down through the hoary ages from Plato himself. Seeking to enhance your knowledge of the arts which your father sorely neglected in favor of more 'Roman' activities, you attend one of his recitals, and watch, enraptured, as the bearded Greek recites verbatim the words of men who lived a dozen generations ago, speaking of philosophical concepts which, you admit, might fly just a little over your head. Nevertheless, after a few repeated attendances, you pick up a little something about philosophy.
Rank 3: 2000 XP
Rank 4: 3000 XP
Rank 5: 4000 XP
(374/5,000) XP to Rank 6
Philosophy Increased: Rank 5 (Average)
However, when you try to approach him after a recital to speak, though he is initially receptive to your overtures for friendship, he quickly becomes annoyed by your lack of any serious knowledge about the Classics, and abandons the conversation. Despite his rebuffing, however, you do make valuable connections at the recitals: namely, a young man by the name of Titus Pomponius, a former student of Scaevola who has become enraptured with the works of the Greeks. He hounds Philo day and night, soaking up every syllable the great thinker speaks. So great is his love for Greece and it works that he has taken to calling himself Atticus -- literally, 'Man-of-Athens'. Despite his particular obsession with Greece, he is a bright and intelligent man, and makes for good conversation. The two of you quickly hit it off, and you and Atticus become fast friends, debating philosophy and law long into the night.
July 11th, 86 BC
668 Years After The Founding Of Rome
The Year of Cinna and Marius.
You reel back, breathing hard. Sweat inches down your face in rivulets, coating your tunic to your body. The warm Roman sun shines down on your back, casting it's bright face over your panting form. Blood rushes through your body, pounding through your ears and flowing like fire through your chest. You were born for this, you know, like a thousand generations of Romans before you -- born for the steel and the sword and the thrill of battle. Though the heavy practice sword in your hands is only dull bronze, you have never felt more alive than now.
You stand in the heart of the Forum, in a wide open space which has been cleared for the purpose of sparring. Your opponent, a tall legionnaire with a broken nose and a mat of dusty blonde hair, is the reigning champion among the young men who gather here to spar and train biweekly, and has dominated the combats for over a month. After you sent a half-dozen of his friends sprawling into the dust in the last month, however he has stepped up to challenge you himself.
He is not unskilled, you think as you eye him warily. But he leaves himself wide too often, moves with practiced rigidity instead of fluidity. It is the telltale flaw of the Roman legionnaire, one your father trained you to detect. The oiled and practiced movements of the cohort, while expected and encouraged in the legions, leave your opponent at a disadvantage in one-on-one combat.
Sensing an opening, you dart forward, your practice sword whistling through the air as you feint to his side. Your sandy-haired opponent notices the feint and slides with a soldier's precision to avoid it -- right over your waiting foot. He stumbles, and though his other foot snaps out to regain the balance, you press the advantage, jabbing your sword at his chest. Admirably, he regains himself enough to bring his own weapon up to deflect, but without proper footing, he cannot put enough force into it. You knock the practice sword from his hand, sweep his feet from under him, and level your blade at his neck.
For a moment, there is silence in the Forum, and then the circle of men who had gathered to watch the fight erupts into whooping cheers. The blonde soldier has sent many of them careening to the stones of the Forum in the last few weeks, and so they cheer his defeat as if it were their own victory.
You reach a hand out to the soldier, who still lies sprawled on the ground, his face etched with a look of disbelief. He regards you for a long moment, then snaps you a lopsided grin and clasps his hand to your own.
"You have the honor of besting the mighty Volero," he says as you pull him to his feet. "And you are...?"
"Call me Atellus." you say, grinning. "Well-fought. You had me breathing hard for a minute there."
He snorts. "Please. I laced my sandals too tightly this morning -- could barely feel my feet. You got lucky, is all." His words are completely serious, but you see a good-natured gleam in his eyes, and after a moment he breaks into a hearty chuckle.
"You know, my father served under an Atellus in Spain. Family?"
You nod. "My father."
His crooked grin spreads even wider. "You are the son of Atellus? Then there is no shame in being laid on my ass -- I'd daresay my father would consider it an honor to have a Cingulii beat the daylights out of me."
You are about to respond when Valero suddenly straightens and glances at something behind you. You turn to find that almost every legionnaire in the Forum has straightened and are staring in the same direction. The young men who are not soldiers are whispering and murmuring to themselves, and even the common folk walking and bartering in the Forum around you have stopped and turned to look.
Through the crowd emerges a tall young man with a round face and a clublike nose. His lips turn up into a small pout, and his eyes are a fierce blue. His hair is blonde, through brighter than Valero's, and is cropped close in the legionary style. He carries himself with a soldier's confidence, all swagger and bravado, and the muscles rippling under his tunic leave no doubt as to whether he can back up such arrogance with action.
"So," the newcomer says with a smile, "I heard someone was knocking Valero around. Now, usually that's my job..." A chuckle runs through the men assembled in the Forum, and the tall man gives them a moment to finish laughing before he continues.
"...so I had to come see for myself. And what do I find but Scaevola's newest hound?" Unlike Valero, the words are said jovially, but you see no glint of good-nature in this man's eyes.
"And who might you be?", you ask, though you are certain you already know.
The young man regards you for a moment, then inclines his head. "I am Pompeius", he says, with the air of one who expects you to know who that is.
And you do. He is the son of Gnaeus Pompeius Strabo, the infamous Butcher of Picenum, once one of the Republic's most feared generals, reviled for his savagery, butchery, and absence of loyalty. At the start of the Civil War, Strabo, an optimate, brought his armies to Rome when Marius invaded, but instead of defending the city, sat aside and let the Marians overrun it, choosing to pick neither side in the Civil War. He died of illness the very next night, and his corpse was torn apart by the men he once commanded -- a traitor's justice, many said.
The leadership of Strabo's legions nontheless fell to his heir, Gnaus Pompeius the Younger -- the man standing before you. In the short time since his father's death, he has already won the loyalty and love of the legions under his command, who call him the Carnifex Adulescens, the 'Young Butcher'. He holds the reins of an army that could change the course of the civil war, camped on the borders of the city since the year's beginning.
You know little of him, but he is famed for his martial skill and ability to command love in his men. Many whisper that he will be the next Sulla or Marius, a general whose shadow will fall over all of Rome.
But your father taught you that a man is nothing until he has done something, and so you straighten your back and hold his eye. For all his name and grandeur, he is the same as you are, a man barely a boy, who has held no public office and won no laurels. You will not bow or salute to him.
He meets your steely gaze with one of his own, and after a long moment, nods and grins.
"Now, what am I to think," he says, "when I find that the most skilled soldiers in my legions have been cut down to size by some country boy who's been in the city half a week, hmm?"
He paces up to you. "I've heard much about you these last months. Scaevola's newest pet, capable of wooing priests and soldiers, a student of the arts and the laws, and, apparently, quite the fighter besides. You must be a brave man, indeed, to come to Rome under the shadow of Marius and side with friends of Sulla."
He pauses, glancing into your eyes. "My legions could use brave men. I could use brave men, especially one who fights as you do."
"You are no commander.", you state flatly. "You have no remit to lead anything, much less a legion."
Pompey grins widely, and for the first time you see true mirth in his face. "What need have I of a remit from the Senate? I am Pompey." As if to prove this, he raises his arms to his side, palms facing upwards. As one, the legionnaires in the Forum snap into attention, pounding their fists to their chests in the salute of the legions.
"They will fight when I ask it of them, die when I ask it of them...what else need I?"
You open your mouth to respond, but Pompey has leaned in close to you, his breath whispering into your ear. "There are others, like us. Young men of ambition, talent, and vision who have the wherewithal to see what is coming. We gather on the Field of Mars at the break of dawn in a fortnight. There...we plan to see an end to this."
"This?", you query.
He nods. "This. Men of great breeding hunted like animals in the street. The mob, roaring through the city. Dogs eating dogs and men killing men. An end to it all."
He breaks away and turns, but his voice sails over his back as he strides off through the Forum.
"Attend, if you will."
VOTING
The Conspirators
Several young Roman patricians, including the powerful Gnaeus Pompeius --better known as Pompey-- have become determined to see an end to the chaos currently consuming Rome under Marius, and have formed a group to see, as Pompey put it, 'an end to it all'. This could mean anything from reform to sabotage to assassination of Marius himself, but you will not know until you attend the meeting.
[] Attend. It is best to know what is happening before committing yourself to anything. [] Do not attend. You will have no truck with conspiracies and double-dealing. [] Report the meeting to the Marians. As paranoid as the group has become, even if Marius does not order the conspirator's deaths, their lives will surely be forfeit if they step in Rome again. [] Report the meeting to Scaevola. A powerful individual, he will take care of it in his own manner, without being as...final as the Marians might. [] Attempt to send Proserpina to spy on the meeting. [] Write-In
A Name For Yourself
Now that you are well-rounded and sufficiently educated in most pertinent skills, Scaevola suggests it is time you begin to make a name for yourself in Rome using one of your skills.
The Debate Fields [] You head to the Forum to begin debating men of wealth, skill, and class on political issues and viewpoints. These debates are significantly more organized than the impromptu ones held all over the city, and feature some of Rome's most up-and-coming political orators.
Tutoring [] Already well-versed in the laws, you begin to rent out your services as a tutor and a teacher 'trained by Scaevola', which is a mark of quality in and of itself, and held in high regard by most educated Romans of status.
Advocacy [] You begin to put your newly-honed law skills to the test by acting as an advocate for Romans who find themselves without. The cases you can get, as a man with no great name or status, are by definition less...respectable than might otherwise be hoped for. However, should you succeed, your reputation will be greatly improved.
Slave Rebellion [] With the legions tied up 'defending' Rome, regional forces are stretched thin in the Republic. In nearby Herculaneum, an escaped slave named Gallicus has taken advantage of this to begin looting and raiding fields and farms across Italia. Marius' son, Marius the Younger, has rallied a small militia force of men with military experience to wipe them out and bring the slave to heel. He seeks persons of noble status with military training to act as leaders of this militia -- a role for which you are eminently qualified. While not technically legionary service, as the threat is too small to require a legion, it would gain you recognition in the eyes of the people and Senate.
Too Little Time, So Many Duties
There are many things which, while not pressing concerns, need seeing to at some time before the years' end. You have not had the opportunity to see to them yet, but the middle of the year offers many opportunities for you to try. Pick Two
Home and Hearth [] You have been living in Scaevola's estate for the past half-year, but you have wealth and name enough to strike out on your own, and intend to do so. You have been meaning to search for a home within the city limits of Rome proper.
Old Friends [] Your father had many friends in Rome, and you have been meaning to start reaching out to some of them in order to expand your connections and influence. Now is as good a time as any to start.
Selling Wine [] Your father owned a vineyard, and after his death, control of it fell to you. Owing to your lack of skill with the art of sale and your current inability to manage anything, you have decided to find a proper administrator for the wine.
Web-building [] Proserpina is looking to build a network of informants for you, like she did for your father in Spain, but in order to do so, she will need people, loyal people, on her payroll. She wants to work with you to build a network of loyal servants and slaves reporting back to her.
To Have And To Hold [] To begin climbing up the ranks of power, you will need a wife. Now, if you make fast friends with a powerful Roman, he might well offer you the hand of his daughter or sister. Otherwise, however, you will need to go out and search for a suitable match. A wife can make or break a Senator's rise to power, and conversely, can tie you through family to Senators who have lost their power and become proverbial 'dead weight'.
Never Too Early To Run [] You start building up influence and connections among the plebeians and the masses in preparation for the next year's elections. You leverage your growing reputation to build yourself a following that you hope will win you a Tribunate.
There is now a TWELVE-HOUR MORATORIUM on all votes.
Use this time to discuss the choices available and create different Plans. As previously discussed, any votes not in plan form, or submitted before the moratorium is up, will not be counted. As always, discussion is rewarded.
So I whipped up a character sheet for Caesar, partly because I wanted to and partly so y'all can see what an endgame Quintus might/should look like. This is Caesar directly before his assassination in 44 BC.
Social Status
Name: Gaius Julius Caesar Age: 55 (Born 100 B.C) Family: Gens Julia Class: Patrician Profession: General/Politician Public Party: Populares Private Party: Caesarist Populares Patron(s): None
Clients: Marcus Antonius, Marcus Aemilius Lepidus Children: Gaius Julius Octavianus (Adopted); Julia of the Julii (Deceased); Ptolemy XV Philopator Philometor Caesar (Bastard) Imperium: The Republic herself Reputation: (Rank 20) Revered -- The last of the Triumvirs and the First Citizen, the heir of Marius and the inheritor of Sulla, the imperator and the dictator, a living god in flesh -- Caesar.
Economic Status
Wealth: 4000 talents Monthly Income: 3400 denarii Buildings Owned: The Domus of the Julii (net worth: 380 talents), the Curia Julia (net worth: 1200 talents) Land Held: 400 acres (net worth: 1360 talents) Slaves Owned: 230 Debts Owed: 11 Debts Held: 34
Titles and Honors
Cognomina: Caesar (lit. 'Hairy one') Agnomen: Imperator, Gallicus, Pater Patriae Honors and Decorations: The Civic Crown, Pater Patriae (lit. Father of the Fatherland) Offices Held: Dictator-For-Life, Prefect of the Morals, Tribune, Consul, Pontifex Maximus Past Offices Held: Consul, Proconsul, Legatus, Praetor, Aedile, Military Tribune, Pontifex Maximus, Flamen Dialis, propraetor, censor Triumphs Held: 8 Cases Won: 21 Campaigns Led: 33 Consulates Held: 5
Stats
Military: Legendary (19) -- You are military mind to rival all others, equaling Hannibal and Alexander, a commander who will be immortalized as legend in the centuries to come. You have no equal in Rome, living or dead. Charisma: Epic (18) -- Your voice can sway the dead and bind the living. Your soldiers would die for you a thousand times, and your followers would conquer the world in your name. Stewardship: Very Poor (2) -- Coin is no concern for the greatest of all. Intelligence: Renowned (16) -- Soft of tongue and quick of wit, adaptive and possessed of great foresight, you are one of Rome's finest minds. Education: Renowned (15) -- You have read the works of the elders and heard the words of Socrates and Plato. You walk in the footsteps of the ancients, and their words fall from your lips like jewels. Subterfuge: Accomplished (14) -- Your foes vanish in the night and your will is done in the dark.
Skills
Combat: Epic (18) -- No man may stand against Caesar and live. Oratory: Renowned (16) -- You speak, and the mob swells. Your voice is a thunderbolt from on high, and only a few in the Republic might match it. Command: Mythical (20) -- No man who has ever served under you would do less than die on his sword at your word. The legions are yours, mind, body, and soul. You command the soldier's hand, the soldier's thought, the soldier's heart. When you make a fist, the legions roar, and you are adored as unto a living god by your men. Engineering: Renowned (15) -- The legions build the roads, and all roads lead to Rome.
Logistics: Accomplished (13) — Armies are little but numbers and lines, numbers and lines you can understand with ease. Law: Epic (18) -- The law is the word, the word is the law, and Caesar is the word. Philosophy: Renowned (15): The words of the ancients thunder through your mind. Plato, Diogenes, Socrates -- these have been your teachers. Administration: Legendary (19): The sun, the stars, the years and the days, all run by your clock and by your word. From chaos and disorder, you forge order. Diplomacy: Accomplished (12): Your words have bested almost as many foes as your sword.
Auguries and Foretellings
The Ides of March [EPIC]: You were approached by a wizened old man in the Forum, and in the voice of an augur, he decreed that the one named Caesar must beware the Ides of March. A great doom lies on the horizon, swiftly approaching for the sun that has grown blind in the light of his own glory.
The Prophecy of the Caesars [EPIC]: The Sybilline Books say that after a time of great war, a race of hairy ones shall raise Rome up from the dust and give her a thousand years of glory. The books say that they shall kill her and save her all at once, and that though not bound by blood, their line will last for a thousand years. The prophecies of the Sibyls say that the last of the hairy ones will never walk in Rome and never speak Latin, but he will die alone with a sword in his hand, defending the last of the Romans — and the dream of Rome will die with him.
[X] Plan Weather Eye
[X] Report the meeting to Scaevola.
[X] The Debate Fields
[X] Selling Wine
[X] Web-building
July 15th, 86 BC
668 Years After The Founding Of Rome
The Year of Cinna and Marius.
The Pompeian Conspiracy ends as it began, with a few hushed whispers in the dead of night and a handful of muttered words over a cup of wine. Almost immediately after Pompey makes his proposal to you in the Forum, you send a slave to Scaevola with news of the planned meeting, and the implied threat of a plot. An attempt on the life of Marius or one of his supporters could tighten the noose around the neck of all optimates in Rome, and you dare not imagine the chaos that might erupt if such a plan were to succeed. Scaevola, you know, understands this better than anyone else, for he was one of the optimates most targeted in the riots during Marius' illness earlier in the year.
A handful of days go by, and the story of what occurs must be pieced together by yourself through hearsay and rumor. Pompey and a handful of his friends and supporters had planned, through bribery, to incite the legions stationed in the city to violence, Pompey's and Marius' alike. Under the cover of such chaos, they would kill Marius, Sertorius, and a handful of other powerful Marians. The act would be scandalous, but without proof and with the excuse of the riots, no blame could be placed. With the Marians crippled and in disarray, Pompey would have rallied his legions and seized the city, 'quelling' the riots he himself had started. Sulla would return home to Marius dead and Rome under optimate control.
It was a brazen and daring plan -- one which would have spilled untold amounts of Roman blood in Rome's own streets. Scaevola gathered several other powerful aristocrats of the city -- among them such powerful names as Mamercus Livianus, Sulla's own son-in-law and the de facto leader of the optimates in Rome -- and informed them of the scheme. Though unable to attack Pompey and his legions directly, they harnessed their power and influence to press down on Pompey's allies and supporters. Young politicians with their entire careers ahead of them, they abandoned Pompey to a man, and his audacious plot melted away like dew in the morning.
It is a handful of days later when the slave you sent to Scaevola to tell him about the plot appears face-down and naked in the Tiber, his body riddled with knife wounds. A thorough investigation of his corpse reveals no clues, but the message is clear -- Pompey knows, and he wants you to know he knows.
Such a blatant threat chills you to the bone, and you know that Pompey has friends and allies throughout the city. You are a mere nobilis of no great status -- even rock-faced Scaevola would shed no tears should you die in your sleep, and he has given you all the aid he can. No, you will have to protect yourself from this new threat, you decide.
In Rome, the rose is a symbol of secrecy and intrigue, the sign of deeds best done in darkness and under cover of night. To speak of Roma sub rosa, "Rome under the rose", is to speak of the secrets and the shadows which lie rotting in the underbelly of this great city. It is to speak of the vast webs of conspiracy and influence spun by most every man of note in Rome. Your father was no stranger to these webs, and spun a few of his own in his day, aided principally by the demure and unassuming kitchen maid, Proserpina. Hailing from Pompeii, she has long had experience and knowledge with acts and deeds done in secret, and served as your father's principal agent in these matters.
You approach Proserpina about building a network to protect yourself from the enemies you seem to be quickly developing in Rome, and she takes to the task with a quiet eagerness that sets you back. Firstly, she takes you with her to the slave markets to purchase a new batch of slaves. However, she asks you to eschew traditional slave-buying practices. Instead of the tallest, the strongest, or the most handsome, she asks you to look for the quickest, the leanest, the smallest and quietest -- those who can move without being seen, or who simply do not draw the eye. Your untrained eyes cannot pick out much of what she suggests, but Proserpina and her years of experience are able to quickly select a good ten or eleven trustworthy slaves which you readily purchase.
These slaves, she says, will be the foundation of her network. They will move quietly through the city streets, unknown and unheard, and will report all that they hear and see back to her. In return, they are paid a small stipend with which they may eventually hope to buy their freedom, and which ties their loyalties to you.
Next, she begins to make inroads with those who, while not slaves, might be more than willing to offer up anything that crosses their ears -- for the right price, of course. She deals with innkeepers, prostitutes and street sweepers -- the sort of people everyone must deal with or pass by, no matter their status. All it takes is a few coins in the right hands to earn the promise of information, and Proserpina carefully sets it up so that your own name is never mentioned in the proceedings.
But of course, Proserpina's most valuable resource is Proserpina herself. Quiet, small, and demure, she is able to slip into any compound, villa, or temple, appearing to be only the meekest of slaves. She can slide into any kitchen in Rome and assume the place of a scullery maid or kitchen wench, someone unremarkable and hardly worthy of even a passing thought. It is in this way that she gathers her most important information, through gossip and banter and overheard conversations. Men of power have freer tongues around those they think will never betray them, and Proserpina is exceptionally skilled at making herself appear as such.
Within weeks she has erected a complicated network of blackmail, bribery, and loyalty which has men and women across Rome feeding her information on nearly everything that happens. While her 'web' is far from all-seeing or insurmountable, chances are you will hear of an attempt on your life long before it occurs. It is not foolproof, but you can sleep a little easier without the thought of Pompey's daggers glinting in the dark.
Your new ventures are not without cost, however. With your coffers running remarkably low after funding Proserpina's ventures, you decide to seek a way to bolster your faltering funds. Your father, a noted connoisseur of wines, owned a vineyard in the Roman countryside, some miles from your home. Trading and selling it made your family a pretty penny in the last days of your father's life, but you certainly do not have his skill with coin. You contact your steward, Mancina, in the hopes that he might be able to take over day-to-day management and sales, but he already has his hands full keeping your estate well-fed and properly run. He does, however, recommend a former associate of his, a Syrian by the name of Azamyin.
On his recommendation, you meet with this Azamyin, a tall man with pocked brown skin and a lilting, rhythmic manner of voice, at his estate in Rome and negotiate prices. After securing a fee which he finds acceptable, he agrees to take over the management of the vineyard, as well as the sale of it's products. He promises to increase your wealth tenfold, and while you are not sure you believe such exaggerations, you are more than happy to see your coin begin to increase once more.
In-between negotiating these matters, you continue to see to your few pastimes. Your skill with the blade continues to grow as you duel with Volero and his fellows in the Forum day after day. Whatever your feud with Pompey, they have obviously not heard of it, as your relationship with them only grows tighter with every day you cross blades with them. Volero in particular emerges as a friend of yours, taking every loss with the same crooked grin and joking excuse for his loss. There are a few times when he nearly lands you on your own ass, and you can tell his skill is slowly improving from association with you -- and yours from association with him.
Combat XP (11 months) = 1d45000 + 1000 (Sparring with Volero) + 500 (Gift of Minerva) = 16991 Rank 9: 8,000 XP (8991/9000) XP left to Rank 10
As well, you attend more of the orations of Philo of Larissa. Alongside your newfound friend Atticus, you study and learn of many of the ideas and philosophies of the great Greek masters. The ideas you hear falling from the Greek's lips intrigue and interest you, and the more you think on them, the more sense they seem to make with the way you see the world.
November 9th, 86 BC
668 Years After The Founding Of Rome
The Year of Cinna and Marius.
You stride along the raised podium, your voice raised in that booming manner in which Scaevola instructed you. It rings across the Forum, carrying your words and convictions over the stones of Rome. Your hands rise and fall quickly, enhancing your every point with a firm movement of your hands. The words falling from your lips are almost not your own -- you do not need to think of them, they simply fall from your lips, flowing from point to counterpoint like a river flows to the sea. Some higher spirit seems to fill your body, and your rhetoric strips your opponent's argument's bare, twists them around, and returns them to him barbed and pointed.
You have been debating men of knowledge and class for the last few months. With the skills Scaevola and Philo taught you, you quickly outstripped your peers, shaming and outright humbling men your age. Soon, almost none would debate you save the most skilled enthusiasts, and even then, cautiously. So great was your prowess that it attracted the attention of one of Rome's own great orators, a distinguished optimate and ex-Tribune by the name of Gaius Papirus Carbo. A skilled speaker and debater in his own right, you suppose he saw a chance to humble a student of the great Scaevola, and in so doing, increase his own renown.
If that was his dream, however, it has been sadly dashed. Today, you have risen above and beyond your own limits. When you speak, it is as if the very gods themselves speak through you. Your arguments are so firmly constructed and well-argued that he can muster no defense against them, and you speak so eloquently that the crowd has all but gathered simply to hear you speak. Your opponent is a skilled politician and orator in his own right, but lines of argument that might have won him victory in the Senate are unraveled and picked apart by you in a moment of seconds. At last, his face drawn and sunk with shame, Carbo concedes, hastily withdrawing himself from the podium as the watching crowd jeers and boos him.
The Debate: 1d20+2 (Accomplished Charisma) +2 (Accomplished Oratory) +1 (Gift of Minerva) = 24 Needed: 18 Rolz Room Charisma XP Gained: 700 (700/10,000) XP to Rank 12
Oratory XP Gained: 700 (1,113/10,000) XP to Rank 11
As you watch the adoring crowd congratulate and cheer you, you realize with a start that you have just bested a senator, and an orator of some renown besides. As a man of no status or name to speak of, you have more than fulfilled Scaevola's directive to 'make a name for yourself'. Indeed, your name will be on many lips in the weeks to come, as one of the most skilled and proficient of this year's crop of aspiring Romans. Carbo was no Cato the Elder, but his name was well-respected around Rome, and besting him so utterly is sure to earn you laudation from all corners of the city.
(Reputation Increased: Rank 6: Noteworthy)
As you descend into the crowd, arms reach out to touch you and congratulate you, congratulations you meet with a smile and a nod. Men years your elder nod at you with respect and people you do not know grasp your hands in theirs.
At last, however, the crowd seems to part and dissipate, and you turn to make your way back to Scaevola's villa. As you do, however, a young man with an angular face and a mop of curly brown hair walks up to you. He is older than you, perhaps 20 or so, and from the way he carries himself, it seems apparent that he is no patrician. However, it is his eyes, like Scaevola's, which draw you the most. They are inquisitive and sharp, peering into your own as if trying to discern what secrets may lay behind them.
"It seems Atticus was not in error about your skills. I must then confess, I have done you wrong -- I did not believe one so young could be so skilled. Indeed, when I heard you were Scaevola's newest protege, I balked, fearing the position was not as prestigious as it once was." He circles around you, peering at you from all sides like an inventor examining a strange machine. Finally, he straightens and looks you in the face.
"But you are the genuine article, it seems, and it is thus my honor to make the acquaintance of what seems to be my only equal in this hellish city." The man reaches out and grasps your hand in greeting, a clasp you firmly return.
Finally, your tongue, so recently gifted, returns to you. "High praise from a man whose name I don't even know," you point out. "You are...?"
"You may call me Cicero, if you must call me anything at all. And unless I am much mistaken, you are Atellus of the Cingulii, a name I have heard all too frequently in Rome these days."
"Indeed, I am. And you, Cicero -- Scaevola speaks highly of you." You have indeed heard of this Cicero -- a student of Scaevola some years ago, he is perhaps the only student of which Scaevola speaks more highly than yourself. A former tribune and aspiring lawyer, he has taken a handful of cases which he has won handily, but in recent years has been forced to keep his neck down or risk losing it from association with Scaevola. "Would you return with me to Scaevola's villa? We can speak more there."
"But of course. The honor is mine. And Atticus tells me you have the most interesting views on Plato's Four Goods?"
The two of you launch into a quiet discussion about philosophy as you make your way up the winding hill to Scaevola's domus, your shadows falling long and far over the city behind you in the light of the setting sun.
VOTING
Philosophy
Your fascination with the philosophy and works of the Greeks has grown so great that you have become enamored with their ideas and philosophical concepts. In Rome, it is popular for the well-educated to adopt and live by one of the great Greek philosophies, and it is one of these philosophies which has so captured you. From this day on, you shall live life and see the world the way it dictates.
[] Stoic: The Stoic Philosophy is more than just a philosophy -- it is a way of life. Most humans are creatures of flesh, controlled by instinct and emotion, easily swayed by greed and fear. To be logical, calculating, to be one with nature, to live a spartan life with few comforts and few pleasures, this is the way of the Stoic. The Stoic is not controlled by the world around him -- rather, he is the unmoving rock in the river of mankind, exerting change yet never being changed himself. Long the Greek philosophy most adored by the famously martial Romans, it was said to be the most favored philosophy of Alexander the Great himself. [] Epicurianism: Life, at it's heart, is about pleasure, or so the Epicurians say. Called hedonists by the frail-minded, Epicurians seek the absence of fear and pain, pleasure's greatest enemies -- and, by extension, life's greatest enemies. Free from the blind superstition and mysticism of the other philosophies, Epicurians simply seek to make the most of life, to live modestly, to seek inner peace, and to gain true knowledge of the world around them. Epicurians are not gluttons or drunkards -- rather they are men who see the world as it is and seek to make the most of it. [] Eclecticism: There are a thousand philosophies, each with their own merits and demerits. The Eclectic draws from them freely as he will, taking bits and pieces of each philosophy to adapt to his life as needed. He lives like the Stoic and sees the world like Aristotle, feasts like the Epicurian and studies like Plato. The jack-of-all-trades, he is not confined to dogma or rigid belief, but can instead adapt and modify his philosophy with the best parts of others. The modern brand of Ecleticism is relatively new, being in itself a combination of Stoicism and the views of Aristotle. It is popular among the intellectual classes in Greece, and has only recently begun to spread in Rome. [] Write-In: Another philosophy of the ancients calls to you.
Cursus Honorum
Your first year in Rome draws to an end, and you have gained enough fame and respect in the city that, should you run for a position, you have a great chance of winning it. Of course, you could choose to take another to improve your skills and grow yourself -- another in which, of course, you may make yet more enemies.
[] Military Tribune: The post of military tribune, or commander, has long been the first stepping-stone on the path to recognition for any Roman man. The people of Rome are allowed to elect sixteen tribunes to the post each year, and the candidates are all young men of good standing around the age of 20 -- in a word, yourself. It will require all your skill and charisma to get elected over men with more beloved names, but it is a feat you are confident you can manage.
[] Broad-Striped Tribune: Five out of the six tribunes assigned to a legion are elected by the people, but the sixth, or broad-striped tribune, is assigned by the Senate. A young man of Senatorial or Patrician rank, he is afforded more respect and dignity than a normal tribune. You would have to appeal to Scaevola to argue on your behalf, but he is well-connected and powerful, increasing your chances of winning.
[] Staff Tribune: You could seek out a position in the staff of a legate or powerful commander. If you could win over such a commander (perhaps through the aid of your sponsor) you would become the aide to this commander, personally selected by him to aid him on and off the battlefield. Such firsthand experience of command could shape you into a true leader.
[] No Position: You will take another year. As you are still young, you can afford to try and build up a name for yourself before engaging in military service.
Sub Rosa
Proserpina has begun to set up your network, but to have spies, you must have someone to spy on. She can begin constructing a network of informants within several groups in Rome, each one potentially beneficial to you and your cause. Of course, the more esteemed the group, the more potential damage could be caused if your attempts were uncovered.
[] The Legions: Rome's most powerful men all have their powerbase in the legions, the iron-clad fists of the Republic that have built Roman power and influence for over a century. To have men within the legions is to have a finger on the pulse of Marius, Pompey, Sertorius, Cinna, and their sort, the great generals who hold the fate of Rome in their hands. You order Proserpina to begin looking for legionnaires and officers willing to take coin to pass along information. [] The Aristocracy: The great parties and bacchanals thrown by Rome's patrician class all have one thing in common -- they are staffed and manned by slaves and servants, common people with common wants who might easily sell their eyes and ears for coin. Buying people inside the debauched festivals of Rome's mightiest offers a chance to earn valuable information which might be used for blackmail or manipulation. [] The Priesthood: The height of political power, the priests are at once untouchable and mired in the corruption and filth of Roman politics. The most powerful, like Scaevola, are old and crafty politicians who have capped decades of scheming and politicking with a service in the priesthood, rendering them untouchable for their past deeds, whatever those may be. The College of Priests is vast, however, and the lowest-ranking and poorest priests may even be willing to listen in on their superiors for a nice bit of coin. Of course, should they be caught, the consequences might be disastrous. [] Write-In: A person or people in Rome who you would like to leverage your coin towards spying on. Beware, however, the more powerful and influential they are, the greater the consequences of failure.
There is now a TWELVE-HOUR MORATORIUM on all votes.
Use this time to discuss the choices available and create different Plans. As previously discussed, any votes not in plan form, or submitted before the moratorium is up, will not be counted.
As always, discussion is rewarded. (As are Omakes and Reaction posts.)
