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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: 2999890" data-attributes="member: 3722"><p><strong>Alea Iacta XI: Romantic Comedy Chp. XI: True Love???</strong></p><p></p><p>The battle raged on for several hours, but by dawn, the tunnels of the Coliseum were littered with the corpses of wild beasts and Celts. Lucretius rounded up the few survivors - about twenty children, mostly - and took them off to the prison near the Praetorian Barracks, along with Otho, who was formally charged with aiding and conspiring with enemies of the Roman people. </p><p></p><p>Meanwhile, I perched on top of the massive heap of stone and dirt where Meloch had fallen, beating my breast with my paws and whimpering piteously. </p><p></p><p>Cornelia, still in shock, turned to Heilyn. "Can you use your stone shaping ability to at least get the body out? I'd like to give him a proper funeral..."</p><p></p><p>Heilyn sighed. "The spirits aren't responding to me anymore...and besides, there's no spirit under there. Meloch is...gone, my lady."</p><p></p><p>Cornelia turned, shoulders slumping. Llyr offered her an arm to lean on, which she gratefully took as she walked slowly out of the tunnel.</p><p></p><p>Heilyn paused a moment, and then chanted briefly in Celtic and turned to me, before saying in quite fluent monkey, "Hey, monkey..."</p><p></p><p>"Yes?" I said, very startled.</p><p></p><p>"Give my best wishes to your companion."</p><p></p><p>"I will!," I said in shock. "Um, wait. I mean, he's dead. Oh, woe is me! I have lost my best friend!"</p><p></p><p>"Yes, of course he is," Heilyn slowly winked, carefully not looking around the tunnel. "Do you need a ride back to Cornelia's mother's?"</p><p></p><p>"Thank you. I could use a bath after all this dirt and blood," I answered. Well, it didn't seem like the smith would be a problem, at least.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p>The next few days were fairly quiet. Cornelia conducted a private ceremony in her mother's garden on behalf of Meloch, and laid an urn with some dirt from the rubble in the Cornelius Crispus mausoleum's section for honored slaves who had died in the family's service. With the race down to four candidates, and Publicola still suffering from boils and a lack of either magical toga or shiny armor, it seemed increasingly likely that Metellus would win a judgeship, although still coming in second to the military hero Thrax.</p><p></p><p>Marcus decided to take the matter of Thrax into his own hands, with some help from Llyr and Lucretius. The key, he thought, was to lightly humiliate the man without actually ruining him - after all, he seemed like a decent soldier and officer, and Metellus needed some competent colleagues.</p><p></p><p>After some further quiet investigation and stalking by Llyr, we learned that Thrax regularly exercised and drilled on the Campus Martius for several hours after dawn, engaging in practice duels with other combatants. Officially, Thrax was trying to get back into military condition and rehabilitate his wounded leg. After watching him for a morning, however, it was Heilyn's opinion that the leg was completely healed, and perhaps had never been that injured to begin with.</p><p></p><p>Crowds of admiring young men and women had begun to gather each morning to watch Thrax's exertions, particularly as, for the last week, he had apparently gone undefeated. This was generating yet more favorable publicity for the young officer, which could not be good for Metellus, whose strengths generally lay more in clever tactics and diplomacy than brute force.</p><p></p><p>So, two mornings after the Coliseum raid, Marcus gathered up a bunch of the young men recommended by Metellus Senior whom he had been training with an eye to making them the new officerial core of the Ninth Legion, and marched down to the Campus Martius. Many of these youths, though noble in birth, had been refused or denied positions in the regular legions for various reasons - some had a tendency towards drunkenness, a few were overweight, and one or two had the breathing sickness. However, Marcus was certain that he could whip them all into proper shape given a few months. In the meanwhile, they served as a ready-made crowd for a demonstration of his own.</p><p></p><p>While they ran, panting, around the field, Marcus strolled over to Thrax's drilling session.</p><p></p><p>"Doesn't look like you've found much of a challenge here, Tribune," he commented.</p><p></p><p>"Well, of course, all of the real soldiers are off in Parthia," Thrax answered.</p><p></p><p>"Still, I'd like to give my men a chance to see some real fighting prowess," Marcus mused thoughtfully. "Would you care to engage me in a brief little match?"</p><p></p><p>"Certainly," Thrax said, smiling broadly. A space was cleared, with Marcus' young trainees on one side, and a large crowd of onlookers standing around. Some casual bets were exchanged back and forth, nearly everyone betting heavily on the tall, handsome, well-muscled officer in his prime over the grizzled retired centurion. Lucretius, Heilyn, and Llyr, however, bet on their companion.</p><p></p><p>Marcus took a moment, standing in the ring, to compose himself and meditate upon the philosophical writings he had studied which taught of the control of the mind over the body. He drew a deep breath and took a careful, practiced stance, sizing up Thrax's longer reach and probably greater speed. Thrax swung first, and hit Marcus lightly in the shoulder, but the Centurion did not even blink. Raising his own wooden gladius, Marcus swung it overhand with enormous force, catching Thrax precisely in the crevice of his leather armor between shoulder and neck.</p><p></p><p>Without even a groan, Thrax dropped like a stone, completely unconscious. Marcus bent down, to check that he would recover perfectly in a few hours, and then turned to his trainees. "And that, men, is how you take out a skilled opponent. As quickly as possible. Now, another four laps!" He smiled grimly, and marched back to the side of the field. The rest of us went to work, spreading the story and encouraging the gossip about how the great military hero had been defeated in a few seconds by a man twice his age. It no longer seemed like Thrax would be as much of a problem in the race.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Orichalcum, post: 2999890, member: 3722"] [b]Alea Iacta XI: Romantic Comedy Chp. XI: True Love???[/b] The battle raged on for several hours, but by dawn, the tunnels of the Coliseum were littered with the corpses of wild beasts and Celts. Lucretius rounded up the few survivors - about twenty children, mostly - and took them off to the prison near the Praetorian Barracks, along with Otho, who was formally charged with aiding and conspiring with enemies of the Roman people. Meanwhile, I perched on top of the massive heap of stone and dirt where Meloch had fallen, beating my breast with my paws and whimpering piteously. Cornelia, still in shock, turned to Heilyn. "Can you use your stone shaping ability to at least get the body out? I'd like to give him a proper funeral..." Heilyn sighed. "The spirits aren't responding to me anymore...and besides, there's no spirit under there. Meloch is...gone, my lady." Cornelia turned, shoulders slumping. Llyr offered her an arm to lean on, which she gratefully took as she walked slowly out of the tunnel. Heilyn paused a moment, and then chanted briefly in Celtic and turned to me, before saying in quite fluent monkey, "Hey, monkey..." "Yes?" I said, very startled. "Give my best wishes to your companion." "I will!," I said in shock. "Um, wait. I mean, he's dead. Oh, woe is me! I have lost my best friend!" "Yes, of course he is," Heilyn slowly winked, carefully not looking around the tunnel. "Do you need a ride back to Cornelia's mother's?" "Thank you. I could use a bath after all this dirt and blood," I answered. Well, it didn't seem like the smith would be a problem, at least. *** The next few days were fairly quiet. Cornelia conducted a private ceremony in her mother's garden on behalf of Meloch, and laid an urn with some dirt from the rubble in the Cornelius Crispus mausoleum's section for honored slaves who had died in the family's service. With the race down to four candidates, and Publicola still suffering from boils and a lack of either magical toga or shiny armor, it seemed increasingly likely that Metellus would win a judgeship, although still coming in second to the military hero Thrax. Marcus decided to take the matter of Thrax into his own hands, with some help from Llyr and Lucretius. The key, he thought, was to lightly humiliate the man without actually ruining him - after all, he seemed like a decent soldier and officer, and Metellus needed some competent colleagues. After some further quiet investigation and stalking by Llyr, we learned that Thrax regularly exercised and drilled on the Campus Martius for several hours after dawn, engaging in practice duels with other combatants. Officially, Thrax was trying to get back into military condition and rehabilitate his wounded leg. After watching him for a morning, however, it was Heilyn's opinion that the leg was completely healed, and perhaps had never been that injured to begin with. Crowds of admiring young men and women had begun to gather each morning to watch Thrax's exertions, particularly as, for the last week, he had apparently gone undefeated. This was generating yet more favorable publicity for the young officer, which could not be good for Metellus, whose strengths generally lay more in clever tactics and diplomacy than brute force. So, two mornings after the Coliseum raid, Marcus gathered up a bunch of the young men recommended by Metellus Senior whom he had been training with an eye to making them the new officerial core of the Ninth Legion, and marched down to the Campus Martius. Many of these youths, though noble in birth, had been refused or denied positions in the regular legions for various reasons - some had a tendency towards drunkenness, a few were overweight, and one or two had the breathing sickness. However, Marcus was certain that he could whip them all into proper shape given a few months. In the meanwhile, they served as a ready-made crowd for a demonstration of his own. While they ran, panting, around the field, Marcus strolled over to Thrax's drilling session. "Doesn't look like you've found much of a challenge here, Tribune," he commented. "Well, of course, all of the real soldiers are off in Parthia," Thrax answered. "Still, I'd like to give my men a chance to see some real fighting prowess," Marcus mused thoughtfully. "Would you care to engage me in a brief little match?" "Certainly," Thrax said, smiling broadly. A space was cleared, with Marcus' young trainees on one side, and a large crowd of onlookers standing around. Some casual bets were exchanged back and forth, nearly everyone betting heavily on the tall, handsome, well-muscled officer in his prime over the grizzled retired centurion. Lucretius, Heilyn, and Llyr, however, bet on their companion. Marcus took a moment, standing in the ring, to compose himself and meditate upon the philosophical writings he had studied which taught of the control of the mind over the body. He drew a deep breath and took a careful, practiced stance, sizing up Thrax's longer reach and probably greater speed. Thrax swung first, and hit Marcus lightly in the shoulder, but the Centurion did not even blink. Raising his own wooden gladius, Marcus swung it overhand with enormous force, catching Thrax precisely in the crevice of his leather armor between shoulder and neck. Without even a groan, Thrax dropped like a stone, completely unconscious. Marcus bent down, to check that he would recover perfectly in a few hours, and then turned to his trainees. "And that, men, is how you take out a skilled opponent. As quickly as possible. Now, another four laps!" He smiled grimly, and marched back to the side of the field. The rest of us went to work, spreading the story and encouraging the gossip about how the great military hero had been defeated in a few seconds by a man twice his age. It no longer seemed like Thrax would be as much of a problem in the race. [/QUOTE]
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