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Alea Iacta Story Hour: A Mythic Rome Campaign (Baby Announcement: 8/17)
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<blockquote data-quote="Orichalcum" data-source="post: 1451844" data-attributes="member: 3722"><p><strong>Alea Iacta VII: Lux et Veritas, Second Chapter: Dreams</strong></p><p></p><p>That night, we all dream, but only a few of us dream memorably:</p><p></p><p><span style="color: Wheat"> Wena: You fall asleep in the relatively quiet garden of Licinia Luculla’s house, glad to be seeing the stars again as you drift off. You dream. You are in a library, searching through scrolls. You know the answer to all your questions lies within one of these shelves, but you cannot find it. The scrolls are up to your ankles....your knees. You call for assistance, but no one seems to hear you. </span></p><p><span style="color: Wheat"></span></p><p><span style="color: Wheat">Suddenly, you hear a voice. “Would this be what you are looking for, foolish vates?” A shadowed figure stands at the end of the long corridor of shelves. You cannot see his face, but wings seem to grow out of both sides of his head. He tosses a silver-cased scroll towards you, and you catch it for a second, before realizing that it is attached to a thin black chain. He pulls on the chain, and you grab on to the scroll to hold on to it. Slowly, inexorably, he pulls you and the scroll towards him, down the long corridor.</span></p><p><span style="color: Wheat"> You wake up. </span></p><p></p><p></p><p> <span style="color: Lightblue"></span></p><p><span style="color: Lightblue">Cornelia: Despite the earlier excitements, you manage finally to fall asleep. You dream: You are swimming in the ocean. The water is warm and crystal-clear, and you feel utterly relaxed, even though you are alone. Through the waves you glimpse a chest with gold pieces, and maybe some silver amphorae. A dolphin jumps in the air near you; thankfully, it is not bouncing a human head. </span></p><p><span style="color: Lightblue"></span></p><p><span style="color: Lightblue"> You see the shore, only a hundred feet or so off, and you see your friends standing on it. Metellus and Lucretius and Nanna Alma are waving at you and shouting, but you cannot hear them. The current is drifting you out farther and farther. You can barely see the figures on the shore. You look out towards the horizon, and see another land in the distance, with waving palm trees. You wave back at your friends, and then begin swimming onwards. </span></p><p><span style="color: Lightblue"> You wake. </span></p><p></p><p><span style="color: Lemonchiffon"></span></p><p><span style="color: Lemonchiffon">Meloch: After all the earlier excitements, you have finally managed to curl up with Shast and get to sleep, despite Shast’s faint verbal and mental mumblings – “ooh, right there. Scratch me right there, on the back of the neck. Yessss....” You dream: You are in the brothel on Cyprus, juggling for the gentlemen customers. The master, a fat Cyprian named Isarchus, beckons you over. “You’ve driven up business and been very entertaining, little pygmy. If you keep this up, I might free you at the end of the month as a reward.” You lower your head and thank him, remembering to keep the tone of respect and gratitude in your voice. In your head, you think to Shast, “It’s about time. I make more money for that pig than any of his girls.” </span></p><p><span style="color: Lemonchiffon"></span></p><p><span style="color: Lemonchiffon"> Shast asks hesitantly, “When you go, will you take me?” It’s the first note of anything but brash self-confidence you’ve ever gotten from the monkey. You reassure him that you will stay together – after all, the pygmy-and-monkey act will probably pay your way back to North Africa. </span></p><p><span style="color: Lemonchiffon"></span></p><p><span style="color: Lemonchiffon"> It is two months later, and Isarchus has not mentioned anything about your freedom. Finally, on Shast’s nagging, you go up to him and ask obsequiously, “Master – you said that you would free me, if business continued to go well.”</span></p><p><span style="color: Lemonchiffon"></span></p><p><span style="color: Lemonchiffon"> Isarchus smiles insincerely at you. “Ah yes, but then three of the girls gave birth last month, and I’ve been paying for the babes’ upkeep, because you know what a kind man I am. I’m afraid the ledgers just won’t allow for it at the moment. Maybe next year.”</span></p><p><span style="color: Lemonchiffon"></span></p><p><span style="color: Lemonchiffon"> You feel chains settle again on your wrists and ankles, and from above, someone begins pulling on your wrists. “Juggle, little pygmy,” Isarchus sneers. “Dance for the crowd!” Helplessly, you feel yourself moving, performing the routine for one more night of many. </span></p><p><span style="color: Lemonchiffon"></span></p><p><span style="color: Lemonchiffon"> You wake up, with a bitter taste in your mouth. In real life, three months later Isarchus traded you to a slave dealer in exchange for a buxom blonde girl from Scythia. </span></p><p></p><p><span style="color: Silver"></span></p><p><span style="color: Silver">Lucretius: You curl up in your thin bunk at the barracks, trying, as usual, to ignore Macrinus’s snores. A good man, but sometimes you want to kill him in his sleep. Slowly, you drift off yourself, and dream: It is a festival day, and you and your elephant Sapientia have been assigned to patrol the streets and keep the masses orderly. There is a large crowd on the Vicus Tuscus, trying to push their way forward towards the free feast in the Forum. It is an increasingly angry mob, shoving and pushing, with some people using their work tools to try and threaten their way to the head of the line. </span></p><p><span style="color: Silver"></span></p><p><span style="color: Silver"> You wheel Sapientia and head forward, raising your voice and trying to reassure the people that there will be food enough for all, if they are only patient. A young boy tries to dart underneath Sapientia’s legs, just as an angry man with a butcher’s spit stabs her right foot, and she stumbles leftwards. The boy’s legs are crushed, and maybe some of his ribs. His mother screams, “I thought you were here to protect us.” You awake, shuddering, knowing that even if your bunkmates understood your fears, you would never be able to discuss it with them.</span></p><p><span style="color: Silver"> </span></p><p><span style="color: Silver"> You lie awake again, trembling, for some time. Your third bunkmate, Centurion Lakros, who was off on night shift, comes stumbling through the curtained doorway. He looks at you and says, “In the months ahead, be wary and watchful. But do not fear the truth. For though we may play tricks, we always seek the source of wisdom.” For a second, you think his eyes shine grey. </span></p><p><span style="color: Silver"></span></p><p><span style="color: Silver"> In the morning, you wake again, and ask Lacrinus about his strange words of last night. He denies them, and tells you that after his shift he stayed out drinking till nearly dawn. </span></p><p><span style="color: Silver"></span></p><p><span style="color: Silver"></span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Orichalcum, post: 1451844, member: 3722"] [b]Alea Iacta VII: Lux et Veritas, Second Chapter: Dreams[/b] That night, we all dream, but only a few of us dream memorably: [COLOR=Wheat] Wena: You fall asleep in the relatively quiet garden of Licinia Luculla’s house, glad to be seeing the stars again as you drift off. You dream. You are in a library, searching through scrolls. You know the answer to all your questions lies within one of these shelves, but you cannot find it. The scrolls are up to your ankles....your knees. You call for assistance, but no one seems to hear you. Suddenly, you hear a voice. “Would this be what you are looking for, foolish vates?” A shadowed figure stands at the end of the long corridor of shelves. You cannot see his face, but wings seem to grow out of both sides of his head. He tosses a silver-cased scroll towards you, and you catch it for a second, before realizing that it is attached to a thin black chain. He pulls on the chain, and you grab on to the scroll to hold on to it. Slowly, inexorably, he pulls you and the scroll towards him, down the long corridor. You wake up. [/COLOR] [COLOR=Lightblue] Cornelia: Despite the earlier excitements, you manage finally to fall asleep. You dream: You are swimming in the ocean. The water is warm and crystal-clear, and you feel utterly relaxed, even though you are alone. Through the waves you glimpse a chest with gold pieces, and maybe some silver amphorae. A dolphin jumps in the air near you; thankfully, it is not bouncing a human head. You see the shore, only a hundred feet or so off, and you see your friends standing on it. Metellus and Lucretius and Nanna Alma are waving at you and shouting, but you cannot hear them. The current is drifting you out farther and farther. You can barely see the figures on the shore. You look out towards the horizon, and see another land in the distance, with waving palm trees. You wave back at your friends, and then begin swimming onwards. You wake. [/COLOR] [COLOR=Lemonchiffon] Meloch: After all the earlier excitements, you have finally managed to curl up with Shast and get to sleep, despite Shast’s faint verbal and mental mumblings – “ooh, right there. Scratch me right there, on the back of the neck. Yessss....” You dream: You are in the brothel on Cyprus, juggling for the gentlemen customers. The master, a fat Cyprian named Isarchus, beckons you over. “You’ve driven up business and been very entertaining, little pygmy. If you keep this up, I might free you at the end of the month as a reward.” You lower your head and thank him, remembering to keep the tone of respect and gratitude in your voice. In your head, you think to Shast, “It’s about time. I make more money for that pig than any of his girls.” Shast asks hesitantly, “When you go, will you take me?” It’s the first note of anything but brash self-confidence you’ve ever gotten from the monkey. You reassure him that you will stay together – after all, the pygmy-and-monkey act will probably pay your way back to North Africa. It is two months later, and Isarchus has not mentioned anything about your freedom. Finally, on Shast’s nagging, you go up to him and ask obsequiously, “Master – you said that you would free me, if business continued to go well.” Isarchus smiles insincerely at you. “Ah yes, but then three of the girls gave birth last month, and I’ve been paying for the babes’ upkeep, because you know what a kind man I am. I’m afraid the ledgers just won’t allow for it at the moment. Maybe next year.” You feel chains settle again on your wrists and ankles, and from above, someone begins pulling on your wrists. “Juggle, little pygmy,” Isarchus sneers. “Dance for the crowd!” Helplessly, you feel yourself moving, performing the routine for one more night of many. You wake up, with a bitter taste in your mouth. In real life, three months later Isarchus traded you to a slave dealer in exchange for a buxom blonde girl from Scythia. [/COLOR] [COLOR=Silver] Lucretius: You curl up in your thin bunk at the barracks, trying, as usual, to ignore Macrinus’s snores. A good man, but sometimes you want to kill him in his sleep. Slowly, you drift off yourself, and dream: It is a festival day, and you and your elephant Sapientia have been assigned to patrol the streets and keep the masses orderly. There is a large crowd on the Vicus Tuscus, trying to push their way forward towards the free feast in the Forum. It is an increasingly angry mob, shoving and pushing, with some people using their work tools to try and threaten their way to the head of the line. You wheel Sapientia and head forward, raising your voice and trying to reassure the people that there will be food enough for all, if they are only patient. A young boy tries to dart underneath Sapientia’s legs, just as an angry man with a butcher’s spit stabs her right foot, and she stumbles leftwards. The boy’s legs are crushed, and maybe some of his ribs. His mother screams, “I thought you were here to protect us.” You awake, shuddering, knowing that even if your bunkmates understood your fears, you would never be able to discuss it with them. You lie awake again, trembling, for some time. Your third bunkmate, Centurion Lakros, who was off on night shift, comes stumbling through the curtained doorway. He looks at you and says, “In the months ahead, be wary and watchful. But do not fear the truth. For though we may play tricks, we always seek the source of wisdom.” For a second, you think his eyes shine grey. In the morning, you wake again, and ask Lacrinus about his strange words of last night. He denies them, and tells you that after his shift he stayed out drinking till nearly dawn. [/COLOR] [/QUOTE]
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