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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: 3001063" data-attributes="member: 3722"><p><strong>Alea Iacta XI: Romantic Comedy Chp. XII: The End, For Now.</strong></p><p></p><p>Well, apparently the little one is waiting for me to finish this Story Hour before appearing, so, here goes. This post catches the SH up to date, and i don't know when the next regular session will be, as the PCs and I now live in Chicago, San Francisco, Boston, New Haven, New York, Durham, and London. I may post a one-shot in the same world I ran a few months ago, but not for a bit.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>On the evening of Marcus' triumphant duel, Cornelia was traveling in her litter back from the baths, tired after a long, hot summer's day. Suddenly, she felt the litter being jostled, and groans and cries of pain from the slave litterbearers. She reached to draw open the curtain and discover what was going on, only to discover that some sort of magical force was barring both sides of the litter, and she could not get out. In desperation, she aimed a magic missile up at the wooden and cloth roof of the litter, blowing a small hole through the top.</p><p></p><p>"Cato! Go find Metellus! Tell him I'm in danger, bring him to me!" The little owl, still flying a bit precariously after his encounter some months earlier with the axe-wielding Celtic barbarian, shot bravely up through the hole, and frantically beat its wings towards the Metellus villa. Conveniently, I was at the villa as well - Llyr had thought to cheer me up by fashioning a little rope harness for me, to carry my scrolls, and really, the less time I spent around Licinia Luculla without Cornelia's protection, the better. Who knew when the witch might try to use me for spell components? Metellus had certainly been panicked about her.</p><p></p><p>Cato flapped through the window, landing exhaustedly on Metellus' shoulder and starting to peck at his ear agitatedly.</p><p></p><p>"Cato?" Metellus asked, surprised. "What's wrong?"</p><p></p><p>The owl, not having my skill with writing, kept pecking, and then flying to the door and back.</p><p></p><p>'Is something wrong with Cornelia? Is she sick?" Llyr asked, confused and worried.</p><p></p><p>"Just a second," Heilyn muttered. He chanted again, and then spoke to the owl in chirps and hoots. "Cato says that Cornelia has been stolen, in her litter. They're taking her far away...to the edges of the city on the Via Appia."</p><p></p><p>Almost before he had finished speaking, Llyr was darting to the stables, where he leapt onto Talat's back. "Come on, Talat! We have to save Cornelia! You know her; she gives you apples all the time."</p><p></p><p>"Apple-lady hurt? We ride fast?" Talat assented, and leapt over the wooden door of the paddock, before beginning to gallop at extreme speed through the streets of Roma. The rest of us, at a slightly slower pace, gathered horses from Metellus' stables and began to follow Cato's flight overhead. Lucretius concentrated and whistled, and within a minute, the Praetorian's elephant, tusks sharpened for war, pounded up to the door for the villa. All of a sudden, clearing a path was no longer an issue. I grabbed onto the elephant's tail and pulled myself up for the ride. In my head, I projected very quietly. "Meloch, partner...I don't know if you're still close enough to hear me. But Cornelia seems to be in danger, somewhere on the Via Appia. You might want to come help."</p><p></p><p>Meanwhile, Cornelia found that the litter had stopped, only to find herself paralyzed by a pointing finger stuck through the curtain when she tried to escape. A burly slave, no one she recognized, carried her temporarily helpless body into what she recognized as a tomb, one of the great ancient mausoleums of the Famous Families of Roma. Following behind the slave, to her shock, was the elegant patrician figure of Fabius Maximus, one of the other political candidates. He directed the slaves to lay her down on top of one of the marble biers, and then to guard the door, after tying her carefully hand and foot to the bier itself. Then Fabius began to draw an elaborate set of symbols and runes, some of which Cornelia could recognize as necromantic, others as healing, around her on the marble floor, using fresh chicken blood and blackened grain as his medium.</p><p></p><p>The paralysis wore off after a minute or two and Cornelia, outraged, and still trying hard to project her situation to Cato, burst out with questions. Besides, conversation would distract him, and that had to be a good idea.</p><p></p><p>"What are you doing, Fabius Maximus? I thought you were a respectable Roman!"</p><p></p><p>"I am," he responded calmly. "And a respectable Roman patrician needs a respectable and virtuous wife."</p><p></p><p>"You can't marry me by tying me to a tomb and surrounding me with chicken blood!"</p><p></p><p>"I don't want to marry you. Well, not your spirit. I've done some investigating. You are clearly of questionable virtue. Even if you haven't been debauched by young Metellus, or that pygmy slave of yours, your mother has doubtless taught you her scandalous ways. Your bloodlines are excellent, but your behavior is hardly suitable for a Fabius Maximus."</p><p></p><p>Cornelia did not know whether to be more outraged or frightened. "I am perfectly virtuous, thank you. Just ask the Vestal Virgins! But if you don't want to marry me, what are you doing?"</p><p></p><p>"You are a useful vessel, for my wife, the noblest and most virtuous of all Roman women. Your soul would only disgrace your descendants; hers will redeem them."</p><p></p><p>"Your...wife?"</p><p></p><p>"Yes. Cornelia Scipionis." He gestures at the bier underneath her.</p><p></p><p>"Who...are you?" Cornelia whispers, increasingly sure she knows the answer, and then venturing a hypothesis herself. "You're not really Lucius Fabius Maximus at all, are you?"</p><p></p><p>"Well, yes, this is the body of my disgraceful, disreputable great-great-grandson. He was trying to summon spirits to find the location of our family's treasures, I am Quintus Fabius Maximus, and I will redeem my family's honor," he says, with a steely glint in his eyes. </p><p></p><p>"And so you want my body...for your wife?" Cornelia demands.</p><p></p><p>"And for our family honor. Rest assured, your family's name will be preserved, and your own name will go into the records as a paragon of virtue who repented her callow youth once she had returned to true Roman civilization."</p><p></p><p>And it is at that moment that Llyr charges down the stairs, still on Talat, into the tomb. Cato flies in behind him a few seconds later, and Cornelia smiles triumphantly. She might be still tied to the bier, but there were all sorts of spells she could cast through her familiar. </p><p></p><p>A nasty and brutish battle breaks out, spells flying everywhere. Llyr finds himself drained and weakened by the touch of Fabius Maximus, but also discovers that Maximus is actually quite easy to hit and wound. The others of our group gradually pour into the tomb, attacking the slaves and Maximus directly, as well as disrupting the ritual. Meloch, who has crept in invisibly, aims a few subtle effects, like Dispel Magic, at the general area, without letting his presence be known directly. Still, Llyr stops once or twice and glances around, confused by effects he associates with the pygmy whose current presence he cannot explain.</p><p></p><p>Eventually, all the slaves having long since died, but Llyr near to pale unconsciousness from the possessed Maximus' icy touch, Metellus steps forward with his gladius and deals a precise, deadly blow. As so often before in our adventures, it is the crucial strike, and Maximus falls to the ground, quite dead. Heilyn chants rapidly and we see the slowly coalescing spirit forced back into one of the neighboring biers, and then bound with green-glowing wards.</p><p></p><p>Metellus, only a half step ahead of Llyr and Lucretius, rushes over to the prone Cornelia and begins untying her bonds. At this moment, Meloch, having carefully swallowed the last of his Improved Invisibility potion, takes out his trusty blowpipe, and shoots a dart of love into Metellus' ankle. Unlike the last few attempts, this one hits perfectly, and Metellus blinks, stunned, as Cornelia carefully sits up.</p><p></p><p>"Cornelia! Thank Jupiter you're safe!"</p><p></p><p>"Thank you Metellus...thank all of you, for rescuing me," she says, smiling, if still a little in shock from her experience.</p><p></p><p>"I was so worried...I realize now, I don't know what I'd do without you," Metellus says fervently. "I need you, Cornelia. I love you. Will you marry me?" </p><p></p><p>A sudden, shocked silence falls in the cold tomb. Both Llyr and Lucretius look stricken. Marcus has a smug, pleased expression on his face - a perfect and satisfactory ending, from his perspective. Heilyn looks around for Meloch, cynically, but sees no trace of the pygmy.</p><p></p><p>Cornelia draws a deep breath, blushing prettily, barely able to believe his words. "I...ah...yes, I think so Metellus, if you wish, and it is the will of the gods. But...it's been a very long day. Can we speak of this again tomorrow?"</p><p>***</p><p></p><p>And there, dear reader, is the end of the scroll. Does a happy marriage and family await them? Will Llyr and Lucretius try to disrupt the wedding? Will Meloch ever return, now that he has staged his death and gained his freedom? What evil plots does Mamerca plan for the Empire? Well...maybe one day, we'll find out.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Orichalcum, post: 3001063, member: 3722"] [b]Alea Iacta XI: Romantic Comedy Chp. XII: The End, For Now.[/b] Well, apparently the little one is waiting for me to finish this Story Hour before appearing, so, here goes. This post catches the SH up to date, and i don't know when the next regular session will be, as the PCs and I now live in Chicago, San Francisco, Boston, New Haven, New York, Durham, and London. I may post a one-shot in the same world I ran a few months ago, but not for a bit. *** On the evening of Marcus' triumphant duel, Cornelia was traveling in her litter back from the baths, tired after a long, hot summer's day. Suddenly, she felt the litter being jostled, and groans and cries of pain from the slave litterbearers. She reached to draw open the curtain and discover what was going on, only to discover that some sort of magical force was barring both sides of the litter, and she could not get out. In desperation, she aimed a magic missile up at the wooden and cloth roof of the litter, blowing a small hole through the top. "Cato! Go find Metellus! Tell him I'm in danger, bring him to me!" The little owl, still flying a bit precariously after his encounter some months earlier with the axe-wielding Celtic barbarian, shot bravely up through the hole, and frantically beat its wings towards the Metellus villa. Conveniently, I was at the villa as well - Llyr had thought to cheer me up by fashioning a little rope harness for me, to carry my scrolls, and really, the less time I spent around Licinia Luculla without Cornelia's protection, the better. Who knew when the witch might try to use me for spell components? Metellus had certainly been panicked about her. Cato flapped through the window, landing exhaustedly on Metellus' shoulder and starting to peck at his ear agitatedly. "Cato?" Metellus asked, surprised. "What's wrong?" The owl, not having my skill with writing, kept pecking, and then flying to the door and back. 'Is something wrong with Cornelia? Is she sick?" Llyr asked, confused and worried. "Just a second," Heilyn muttered. He chanted again, and then spoke to the owl in chirps and hoots. "Cato says that Cornelia has been stolen, in her litter. They're taking her far away...to the edges of the city on the Via Appia." Almost before he had finished speaking, Llyr was darting to the stables, where he leapt onto Talat's back. "Come on, Talat! We have to save Cornelia! You know her; she gives you apples all the time." "Apple-lady hurt? We ride fast?" Talat assented, and leapt over the wooden door of the paddock, before beginning to gallop at extreme speed through the streets of Roma. The rest of us, at a slightly slower pace, gathered horses from Metellus' stables and began to follow Cato's flight overhead. Lucretius concentrated and whistled, and within a minute, the Praetorian's elephant, tusks sharpened for war, pounded up to the door for the villa. All of a sudden, clearing a path was no longer an issue. I grabbed onto the elephant's tail and pulled myself up for the ride. In my head, I projected very quietly. "Meloch, partner...I don't know if you're still close enough to hear me. But Cornelia seems to be in danger, somewhere on the Via Appia. You might want to come help." Meanwhile, Cornelia found that the litter had stopped, only to find herself paralyzed by a pointing finger stuck through the curtain when she tried to escape. A burly slave, no one she recognized, carried her temporarily helpless body into what she recognized as a tomb, one of the great ancient mausoleums of the Famous Families of Roma. Following behind the slave, to her shock, was the elegant patrician figure of Fabius Maximus, one of the other political candidates. He directed the slaves to lay her down on top of one of the marble biers, and then to guard the door, after tying her carefully hand and foot to the bier itself. Then Fabius began to draw an elaborate set of symbols and runes, some of which Cornelia could recognize as necromantic, others as healing, around her on the marble floor, using fresh chicken blood and blackened grain as his medium. The paralysis wore off after a minute or two and Cornelia, outraged, and still trying hard to project her situation to Cato, burst out with questions. Besides, conversation would distract him, and that had to be a good idea. "What are you doing, Fabius Maximus? I thought you were a respectable Roman!" "I am," he responded calmly. "And a respectable Roman patrician needs a respectable and virtuous wife." "You can't marry me by tying me to a tomb and surrounding me with chicken blood!" "I don't want to marry you. Well, not your spirit. I've done some investigating. You are clearly of questionable virtue. Even if you haven't been debauched by young Metellus, or that pygmy slave of yours, your mother has doubtless taught you her scandalous ways. Your bloodlines are excellent, but your behavior is hardly suitable for a Fabius Maximus." Cornelia did not know whether to be more outraged or frightened. "I am perfectly virtuous, thank you. Just ask the Vestal Virgins! But if you don't want to marry me, what are you doing?" "You are a useful vessel, for my wife, the noblest and most virtuous of all Roman women. Your soul would only disgrace your descendants; hers will redeem them." "Your...wife?" "Yes. Cornelia Scipionis." He gestures at the bier underneath her. "Who...are you?" Cornelia whispers, increasingly sure she knows the answer, and then venturing a hypothesis herself. "You're not really Lucius Fabius Maximus at all, are you?" "Well, yes, this is the body of my disgraceful, disreputable great-great-grandson. He was trying to summon spirits to find the location of our family's treasures, I am Quintus Fabius Maximus, and I will redeem my family's honor," he says, with a steely glint in his eyes. "And so you want my body...for your wife?" Cornelia demands. "And for our family honor. Rest assured, your family's name will be preserved, and your own name will go into the records as a paragon of virtue who repented her callow youth once she had returned to true Roman civilization." And it is at that moment that Llyr charges down the stairs, still on Talat, into the tomb. Cato flies in behind him a few seconds later, and Cornelia smiles triumphantly. She might be still tied to the bier, but there were all sorts of spells she could cast through her familiar. A nasty and brutish battle breaks out, spells flying everywhere. Llyr finds himself drained and weakened by the touch of Fabius Maximus, but also discovers that Maximus is actually quite easy to hit and wound. The others of our group gradually pour into the tomb, attacking the slaves and Maximus directly, as well as disrupting the ritual. Meloch, who has crept in invisibly, aims a few subtle effects, like Dispel Magic, at the general area, without letting his presence be known directly. Still, Llyr stops once or twice and glances around, confused by effects he associates with the pygmy whose current presence he cannot explain. Eventually, all the slaves having long since died, but Llyr near to pale unconsciousness from the possessed Maximus' icy touch, Metellus steps forward with his gladius and deals a precise, deadly blow. As so often before in our adventures, it is the crucial strike, and Maximus falls to the ground, quite dead. Heilyn chants rapidly and we see the slowly coalescing spirit forced back into one of the neighboring biers, and then bound with green-glowing wards. Metellus, only a half step ahead of Llyr and Lucretius, rushes over to the prone Cornelia and begins untying her bonds. At this moment, Meloch, having carefully swallowed the last of his Improved Invisibility potion, takes out his trusty blowpipe, and shoots a dart of love into Metellus' ankle. Unlike the last few attempts, this one hits perfectly, and Metellus blinks, stunned, as Cornelia carefully sits up. "Cornelia! Thank Jupiter you're safe!" "Thank you Metellus...thank all of you, for rescuing me," she says, smiling, if still a little in shock from her experience. "I was so worried...I realize now, I don't know what I'd do without you," Metellus says fervently. "I need you, Cornelia. I love you. Will you marry me?" A sudden, shocked silence falls in the cold tomb. Both Llyr and Lucretius look stricken. Marcus has a smug, pleased expression on his face - a perfect and satisfactory ending, from his perspective. Heilyn looks around for Meloch, cynically, but sees no trace of the pygmy. Cornelia draws a deep breath, blushing prettily, barely able to believe his words. "I...ah...yes, I think so Metellus, if you wish, and it is the will of the gods. But...it's been a very long day. Can we speak of this again tomorrow?" *** And there, dear reader, is the end of the scroll. Does a happy marriage and family await them? Will Llyr and Lucretius try to disrupt the wedding? Will Meloch ever return, now that he has staged his death and gained his freedom? What evil plots does Mamerca plan for the Empire? Well...maybe one day, we'll find out. [/QUOTE]
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