Alea Iacta Story Hour: A Mythic Rome Campaign (Baby Announcement: 8/17)

[Meloch the Pygmy]

Nice writing, Shast. You made Metellus sound quite creditable.

You know, we really should have one-upped Otho. "Orgy at Metellus' place! Pygmies and centaurs and Emperors' wives! Come one, come all!" Now that would have been a vote-winner.

 

[Orichalcum]

Alea Iacta X: A Civil Campaign Chp. 7: Busts, only one sestertius!

With the crowd dispersed, we convene briefly back at Metellus' house to divide up responsibilities. It's decided that our primary targets are Publicola, particularly since Heilyn thinks that he's somehow involved in the whole smithy-explosion business, and Otho, the wealthy fat man, since both Thrax and Fabius Maximus seem on first impression to be good types. Still, it clearly makes sense to investigate all of their backgrounds.

Metellus and Cornelia decide to go to some aristocratic dinner parties and get a sense of who the Senators are leaning towards. Lucretius plans to look into the official records, although the Praetorian also been asked to spend some time beefing up security around baby Cimbra's nursery, and to bring Meloch along to play. Lucretius is still avoiding any private time with Cornelia, determined to evade her interrogation about minor issues of gender.

Meanwhile, Marcus and Meloch when available plan to deal with the seamier side of the Roman public. Marcus plan to hit the taverns where other soldiers hang out, while Meloch will talk to the slaves. Llyr's investigative skills and ability to create fun fur-grooming tools are sorely missed, but he's still back in Britannia, dealing with family business.

Heilyn, whose skills are less in communication, offers to assist by making some molds for crude plaster busts of each of the candidates to generate publicity and propaganda. Everyone thinks this is a wonderful idea, and much time is spent trying to think of appropriate themes. Eventually, it's decided to make a fairly straightforward but noble looking bust of Metellus, with his few asymmetrical features smoothed out; sadly, this is not one of Heilyn's more successful artistic efforts. However, Heilyn succeeds massively in creating a small statue of Fabius Maximus leaning on a column, managing to make him look somewhat debauched and with more than a suggestion of drooping, flaccid genitals. Publicola is depicted as a fop in his overly elegant toga, up to his neck in scrolls; Thrax as a good Roman legionary, but less attractive than Metellus, and Otho as a Silenus-type - decked out in grapes and carrying wine flagons in either hand. The molds quickly start producing cheap plaster busts in Metellus' stables, and they sell quite well, given the relative novelty.

Marcus goes to the tavern near Thrax's apartment and, after waiting a while, finally spots the grizzled primuspilus centurion who had been applauding firmly at the declaration of candidacy that morning. He adjusts his own primuspilus pin (of the Ninth) to be prominently visible and brings over a large amphora of decent but not too expensive wine.

"To the Eagles! Fellow Centurion!"

"To the Eagles!" the man responds. "The Ninth? I hadn't realized she'd been resurrected."

"She lives again," Marcus answers, "but the Emperor does not wish to expand beyond twenty-four legions at this time. I'm Marcus Alexandros, by the way."

"Ah, makes sense. Gaius Regulus, at your service. Well, matters are hot enough in Parthia we may need her sooner or later."

"Indeed. The Seventeenth was on the way to Parthia, wasn't it?"

"Yes, till the blasted Thracians ambushed us. Now it's only half a legion and needs to recruit again. And the arrow wound in my leg will keep me out of fighting for at least a season; the doctor says maybe forever."

"That's a shame. So how'd the Seventeenth get trapped into an ambush? Didn't you have scouts?"

"The Legate," Regulus almost spits the title, "said we didn't need any. Said this was a peaceful march through Roman territory and it would only tire out the horses and men."

"Officers. They think with their feet," Marcus responds wryly.

"Not all of them, mind you. I work now for a Tribune, Aulus Gellius Thrax, now he's a soldier's soldier."

"Oh? What did he do to impress you so much?"

"Well first of all he tried to persuade the Legate to send out scouts or at least build a proper defensive fortification when we camped that night. And when that failed, and then when the Legate went down, and the men started to drop their weapons and run, he rallied them all, got us all into a proper tortoise formation, and then sent the cavalry around the back to pincer the Thracians. We killed maybe 12,000 of them in the end."

"Good for him, and good for the Seventeenth. Sounds like a tough situation. What happened to the Legate?"

"Arrow in the throat. Lucky shot - unlucky, rather - just one of those things that happen." Regulus seems a little uneasy to Marcus' trained eye, and he quickly changes the subject. "What do you think of the Blues' chances this season?"

"Well, I don't follow racing that much, but a friend of mine has a cousin racing for the Whites, who's a very good charioteer, if not the brightest of fellows," Marcus answers.

"Anyway, I should be heading back to see how Thrax is. Good day to you, Centurion, and my best wishes as well to your master Metellus," Regulus winks, and strides out of the tavern. Marcus looks a little disgruntled, and then thoughtful.

 

[Orichalcum]

Alea Iacta X: Chp. 10: A Little Investigation...

Sorry for the long delay in posting, folks, but the combination of a new job and the extra fatigue relating to an expected cohort for Cerebral Paladin and I in August - - caused a temporary shutdown. Now that it's summer and I have some free time, I hope to catch up the SH to real time, at least for now, as that's only about 2.5 sessions.

***
Just as a summary review:
Metellus is running for election as a judge in Rome, against 4 other candidates. 3 candidates this year will become judge, although you gain the most prestige by coming in first in the number of ballots. All of our group have split up to investigate the other four candidates:

Thrax: The military hero who Marcus suspects might have been involved in the death of an incompetent superior officer;
Publicola: The young lawyer, incredibly eloquent despite having been fairly tongue-tied the last time we encountered him at the soothsayer's trial;
Fabius Maximus: The formerly dissolute extremely elite nobleman.
Otho: The thrice-defeated candidate who is throwing around money, food, and wine to buy voters' support.

Current PC status:
Cornelia: Young Roman noblewoman sorcerer, dealing with the discovery of her descent from volcanic dragons, her confused romantic feelings towards Metellus and Llyr, her disobedient slave, and her deeply frightening mother.
Heilyn: Brigantian smith-spirittalker, now exiled by geas from Britannia, client of Metellus. His current personal quest is to create a lightning bolt to pay off a debt to the god Mercury.
Llyr: Brigantian prince/Roman auxiliary engineer (ranger/rogue), currently back in Britannia sorting out family matters. Also, in love with Cornelia.
Lucretius: Praetorian guard decurion (paladin), charged with the safety of the royal family - apparently of somewhat confusing gender.
Marcus: Loyal client of Metellus (psionic warrior), primuspilus centurion and only current soldier of the revived 9th Legion.
Meloch: A pygmy slave sorcerer of Cornelia's, as well as a fertility enabler for the Caesars and the companion to our hero and narrator, Shast the Monkey.
Metellus: Young noble tribune running for office as a judge and trying to figure out who to marry.
All PCs are currently 8th level.

***

While Marcus was pursuing fairly orthodox information gathering tactics in the taverns and Cornelia and Metellus were gossiping with Roman nobles, Meloch and Heilyn decided to take a more direct approach. Both were very curious about Publicola's highly magical toga, and, as the acknowledged magic-workers of the group, they decided to investigate more directly.

Unfortunately, neither was particularly inconspicuous under normal circumstances, nor well-versed in the arts of hiding and sneaking. So they began their evening's reconnoitering by Heilyn turning himself into a monkey. I found this flattering, at first, although, of course, he wasn't nearly as golden-furred or well-groomed as i am. When Meloch suggested i stay behind so that there wouldn't be the confusion of two monkeys, I agreed - after all, it was time for another bath, and this plan sounded foolhardy at best. Still, I kept in touch through our link.

Meloch and Heilyn-the-monkey paid a slave to find the location of Publicola's small apartment in a less-than-fashionable section of Roma. As soon as it was dark, Meloch cast invisibility on himself and climbed up the wall to the small open window, trusting Heilyn to be inconspicuous on the grounds of size alone. They both peered through the tattered oilskin curtain.

On the couch beyond, they could see Publicola, toga somewhat askew, sipping wine with an extremely attractive if scantily dressed young woman. Meloch, well-versed in such matters from his years in a brothel slave, whispered quietly, "Courtesan. Expensive one, by the jewelry and looks." The woman was fawning attention on Publicola, and soon after they began watching, she dashed the cups to the floor and began an enthusiastic seduction of the young advocate. Meloch took advantage of the couple's distraction to renew his Invisibility.

Heilyn, meanwhile, whispered to Meloch, "I've done some more divination magic. That toga has some very powerful enchantment magic on it. I'm pretty sure it's the cause of his sudden popularity - on all fronts. We can't let him keep it."

"All right, then, " Meloch said, "We'll try and steal it."

Unfortunately, while the toga had been partially removed in the course of dalliance, the watchers saw Publicola carefully hold onto it and then place it beneath his head, as a pillow, before falling asleep with the courtesan on the couch. Still, they seemed to have gone undetected.

Meloch, very quietly, shot both the girl and Publicola with two of his blowgun sleeping darts, obtained long ago in Britannia. He then cast Invisiblity one last time and crept over the windowsill. There was no stirring in the room.

While Heilyn watched on the sill, ready to cast if necessary, the pygmy crept over to the couch and began trying to ease the toga out from underneath Publicola's head. The courtesan turned and rolled in slumber, startling him, and Meloch pulled a little harder than necessary. And at this moment, Publicola's eyes flew open in confusion and Meloch tried to sleep-dart him again - and missed, at the range of a foot. The young advocate awoke in shock to the sight of a suddenly materializing pygmy, dragging a brilliant white toga over to the windowsill.

"Help! Vigiles! Thieves! Pygmy Witch Thieves!" he shouted, and the courtesan woke up and added her screams to the fray. Meloch dashed to the window, grabbing the toga, and jumped from the second floor, using a combination of magic and the buoyant draperies of the toga itself to lessen his fall. Heilyn, caught by surprise, began climbing down the wall after him, but not before the nude Publicola, carrying an oil lamp, had run to the window and seen him.

"Help! Pygmy and monkey thieves! They've stolen my toga!"

Heilyn jumped onto Meloch's shoulder and they ran for their lives as the tramping of the Vigiles, the City Watchmen, began to enter the street outside the apartment.

 

[Orichalcum]

Alea Iacta X: Chp. 9: A Little Gossip

Meanwhile, a conservatively but finely dressed Fabius Maximus had come to call upon Metellus Major, Metellus' father, and not incidentally Metellus himself. Metellus Major invited him in for some late afternoon wine and pastries, thanking the gods that his somewhat flighty Isis-worshiping wife, Valeria Maxima, was away at the temple.


"Most noble Caecilii Metelli," Fabius Maximus began earnestly. "I asked for this visit because I wanted to assure you that I have no intention of competing directly with you or besmirching your reputation in the forthcoming election. We patricians must join together, after all, to keep out the upstart riff-raff that seem to be joining the Senate these days."

"Thank you," Metellus [Minor, our boy] responded politely, a bit startled. "Certainly I welcome your offer."

Metellus' father joined in, a bit more cautiously. "We were very glad to see that you had turned over a new leaf, young Fabius, and began to pursue the career your lineage has prepared you for. I must admit to having heard some distressing rumors about your...lifestyle in the last few years."

"I must confess," Fabius answered, seeming sorrowfully earnest. "In my callow youth I was indeed a most shameful reprobate."

"Reprobate?" Metellus thinks. "Where did this man get his vocabulary from? The speeches of Cato the Censor?"

"But recently," Fabius continues, "I woke up one morning after a dreadful night of indignities and suddenly realized the dangers of my path and the great disgrace I was bringing upon my illustrious family name. I am determined to redeem the honor of the Fabii Maximi, and the best way of accomplishing that is through a distinguished Senatorial and political career serving Roma. I would be honored by a formal political alliance between our noble houses."

Metellus blinks, and hedges. "Well, the campaign season has only just begun. I fear that I cannot yet commit to any formal alliances until I have had the opportunity to more firmly establish my own reputation in the eyes of the voters. But I thank you for the great honor you offer, and certainly wish you well in the upcoming weeks." He catches a tiny, approving nod from his father, and sighs in relief.

"Of course, I understand," Fabius says, a little disappointedly. "One other minor matter. As part of my new direction in life, I wish to begin a proper Roman family as soon as possible and perpetuate the lineage of the Fabii Maximi. I believe that you are not blessed with any sisters, Metellus Minor, but I understand that you have taken under your protection a young noblewoman of distinguished military and knightly heritage on her father's side, the Cornelii Crispi, and the ancient line of the Licinii Luculli on her mother's. It was uncertain to me whether you stood more as her patron and foster-brother or as her suitor, and I did not wish, of course, to interfere in matters beyond my concern, but if she is indeed eligible, I would be grateful for your consent in any courtship."

Metellus blinks, several times, and blushes, and then grows pale, and blushes again. "Um...Cornelia Crispa is indeed a most noble young lady, and I am not courting her at present. Beyond that you should, um, speak to her family and the lady herself?"

"Of course. Thank you for clarifying the situation." Fabius Maximus stands, bows elegantly to father and son, and departs through the atrium.

"Well," Metellus Major says approvingly but a bit skeptically, "That's certainly a nice change from the man rumored to have debauched several goats on the steps of the Imperial palace..."

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

I'm not sure "flighty" is how I would describe Valeria Maxima from her later appearance in-game. (Valeria Maxima is a PC in a spin-off game that Orichalcum has started running with a different mix of players. But I'll refrain from mentioning any details about that game for now to avoid spoilers. )

Yay for the return of the Storyhour, though. I play in the game, and it's still nice to be able to read the adventures.

 

[Piratecat]

Yay, welcome back!

 

[Fimmtiu]

Woohoo! Cause for much celebration. And congratulations on the new, uh, "cohort"...

 

[orsal]

Woohoo! Cause for much celebration. And congratulations on the new, uh, "cohort"...

Seconded. At what age will the newest chalky-paladin roll up his or her first character?

 

[Orichalcum]

Seconded. At what age will the newest chalky-paladin roll up his or her first character?

Well, Ladybird already got it this: http://www.jinx.com/scripts/details.asp?affid=-1&productID=461 - so I'm expecting it will be very precocious in that regard. And thanks for the good wishes and the welcome back!

 

[Orichalcum]

Alea Iacta X: Chp. 11: The Temptations of Flogging

Meloch and Heilyn-the-monkey , aided by an emergency use of Meloch's next-to-last dose of invisibility dust, finally managed to escape the confused vigiles in the dark alleys of the Roman Subura. After some wandering around, they determined to hide the toga, as it was clearly unsafe to simply give it to Metellus for now. Meloch traced his path back to the small alley, where, a few months ago, he and Llyr had been ambushed and nearly killed - an unremarkable place to the average onlooker. Here Heilyn transformed himself back and then called upon the powerful earth spirit who had aided him before, taking the magical toga and sinking it deep into the ground, below the garbage-covered mud of the alley, below the smooth trodden cobblestones of the road below, deep into the stone of Roma herself.

It might have been their imagination, but as they crept out to the larger street, the alley seemed more inviting and agreeable than it had a few minutes before. Still, it would be almost impossible for anyone but Heilyn to retrieve the toga now. The two conspirators, who for the first time in their lives felt almost like friendly comrades, parted ways, Heilyn to return to Metellus Major's house and Meloch to sneak in through the back servants' door at the villa of Licinia Luculla. Unfortunately, Licinia's fat steward Ogulnius was waiting up for him. [This is a paraphrase, but I think very much in the spirit of Meloch - he can disagree.]

"Do you know that your monkey used up three bales of firewood heating a bath for itself, pygmy?" Ogulnius roared.

"Don't be silly," Meloch replied cheekily. "Everyone knows monkeys can't run baths. Are you expecting me to believe it understands a hypocaust system and how to build the fire underneath the tub correctly?"

Ogulnius pauses, defeated by logic momentarily. "Then you must have done it!"

"I've been gone on errands for my mistress for the past several hours, honorable steward. Do you think I floated the firewood to the bath by magic?" Meloch makes random but ominous hand gestures.

"You and your monkey..." Ogulnius spluttered. "Get yourself cleaned up. With cold water! And don't disgrace this household by consorting with street scum, as it smells like you've been doing! Or I'll tell Licinia Luculla!"

"Of course, honorable steward. I'm so sorry my smell offends you. It's just so hard to keep the ladies of the Subura away from me, you know..." Meloch answered leeringly, before scampering through the kitchen door and off to Cornelia's quarters, and a cold bucket or two of water.

"Shast," he asked me, shivering in the night air of the atrium a little later, "how exactly _did_ you carry three bales of firewood?"

"Meloch, my friend," I replied sagely, "I don't ask about your business; don't worry about mine..."

I thought it was probably wise not to mention that I had also raided the cosmetic oils and herb stores of Licinia Luculla in order to have a properly fragrant bath and the new toughness to my fur that seemed to have resulted - after all, it wasn't Meloch's concern. He's a good friend, but not nearly concerned enough about personal comfort.

Shortly after dawn, Ogulnius came personally to the threshold of Cornelia's suite, kicking Meloch and I awake as we slept across the entrance to her room. "Domina Cornelia, there is an official messenger at the door for you."

Cornelia, a little bemused, wrapped a heavy mantle around herself and covered her hair before going to the front door, while Meloch and I followed, peeking through the entrance to the servants' quarters.

An officious slave, wearing insignia indicating that he belonged to the judges of Roma in their official capacity, looked her up and down. "Are you Cornelia Crispa, daughter of Cornelius Crispus the Legate?"

"He was Acting Prefect, but yes," Cornelia responded coolly.

"I have the duty to serve you with this announcement of a forthcoming suit against you. You are requested and required to present yourself before the tribunal of the judge G. Rutilius Creticus, on charges of theft, assault, witchcraft, cursing a Roman citizen, and, ah, attempting to influence a political campaign through foul means."

"What? Who is alleging such things? I have been here in my mother's villa resting quietly for the past few days, except for a few visits to the houses of prominent Roaman nobles!" Cornelia gasped, already inwardly thinking of all the different crimes that the messenger might possibly be referring to.

"The plaintiff is one Gnaeus Tertius Publicola. He attests...let me see...he claims that you set your pygmy witch slave and your foul demonic spirit monkey to attack him in his home last night and steal a valuable object from him. And of course, domina, you are legally responsible for all the actions of your slaves."

"Of course," Cornelia repeats, growing pale, and then gradually more angry, before she recovers the dignified demeanor of a Roman lady. "Well, you may tell the judge that I will certainly be there in three days to answer such ridiculous, baseless charges, and thank you for delivering the summons, messenger." She takes the scroll, and closes the door in the messenger's face. Then Cornelia counts to five, in Greek, quietly, before turning around and shouting into the servants' quarters, "Meloch!!!"