[Game Thread] Session 2 - Discoveries

[Elanir]

Dianthe the Hetéra Dianthe the Hetéra The metal shines in Fidelis’ palm, immediately drawing the hetéra’s attention to it. A token, no larger than a denarius, but made of humble copper instead of silver, old but kept in pristine condition. Jupiter’s messenger and stalwart companion, his head held proudly, his wings outstretched, looks back at Dianthe from the metal token, his message abundantly clear. A fellow Eagle! It is with some difficulty that the hetéra hides her surprise, though thankfully the laborers seem more interested in the mud-stained coins than the look on her face. She offers a silent thanks to whatever god is watching over her, but then the gratitude in her heart is replaced by doubt. Is the young man’s appearance an unexpected stroke of luck or has the Sinistram lost faith in her and her companions? The thought twists uncomfortably inside her head like a poisonous snake. Has she been found wanting? If so, Aristarchus’ future is in jeopardy. Without his father’s respected family name and Roman citizenship, most doors will remain closed to him. Even as a foreigner and a woman, Dianthe has made a good life for herself in Rome, but it is not the life she dreamt about and it’s certainly not the life she wants for her son. Stopping herself from glancing behind her back at the young slave, she instead looks at the man offering to become her escort. The greed and ruthlessness in his eyes make her shiver, but she hides all signs of discomfort behind the stern expression of a Roman matron. She simply nods, ostensibly agreeing to be escorted home by the ruffian. "But not before I make certain that my orders have been carried out without fail." Not giving the man time to object or try to stop her, she turns around and heads towards the place where Levian is fighting against the Nubian, walking as swiftly as possible, while still keeping up appearances. She feels his foul breath uncomfortably close to her, his presence as distasteful as that of a leech. Thankfully, the bridge is still full of people. There will be those in the crowd who will object to a respectable Roman woman being molested in broad daylight by lowlifes and the thug must realize it. Now that she is so close to the river, Dianthe feels her sandals stick to the mud, as if the wet earth is trying to get them off her feet, but she pays no attention to this uncomfortable sensation. There are worse things than grime and filthy puddles in Rome and she fears that in this case she is responsible for at least one of the ills plaguing the city. Not that she is as defenseless as she seems. She hopes the Sinistram will realize this too. She sees that Abactemus is still unconscious and under the power of Levian who is talking to the young man. It appears that the youth was able to fish Jorunn out of the river. Dianthe doubts that the Gaul will be happy with how things turned out. Slitting the throat of the hetéra’s brutish escort might cheer him up a little, but Dianthe is determined to deal with the man on her own - and without loss of life, if possible. The three laborers emerge from the sewer, the stench of offal from the cloaca the only thing accompanying them. There is no sign of the Nubian. Dianthe quickly assumes a look of angry disappointment, so fierce that the three men are quick to lower their heads to avoid it. "I don’t see my slave among you. It seems that I will have to turn to more capable individuals to have him punished as he deserves. Still, you may keep your coins if you do something else for me." The hetéra watches as three pairs of eyes turn towards her, looking at her with renewed hope. She smiles inwardly. She has the perfect task for them. "This man has disrespected me with his lecherous looks and ugly thoughts", she announces sternly, refusing to grace her escort with a glance, while pointing at him accusingly. The man gasps in surprise, as if just having been slapped. "Throw him to the river so that the Tiber may wash his filthy thoughts off. Now!", she adds imperiously, expecting the men she has paid to comply without question.

 

Overcome with Jupiter approach, invoking the “Army of Silver” twice for free:

Dice Roll:

4df+7

(-1, -1, 0, 1)+7

Total = 6

 

Dianthe the Hetéra
Aspects Approaches High Concept: Sophisticated Seductress Foreignerfrom Ephesus Juno (careful) +1 Trouble: All Women are Jealous of My Fame Minerva (clever) +2 Ideal: Law is only as Mighty as the Magister who Enforces it Jupiter (flashy) +3 Petitio Videtur: A Child needs a Name, not a Father Mars (forceful) +0 Virtus: Whether by Wit or Wile, no Man can Resist Me Mercury (quick) +1 Pluto (sneaky) +2
Background: Originally from Ephesus in the province of Asia, Dianthe was tricked and humiliated by the governor of the province, Quintus Minucius Thermus. Abandoned with a child without a father, instead of returning to her family in shame, she joined the Heterae. Mastering their skills and excelling at their “art”, Dianthe relocated to Rome, where she made a name for herself. In order to force her husband to recognize her son as his legitimate child, she joined the Eagles, pledging her allegiance to Coppers.
Stunts Croesus’ Wealth Because I am fabulously wealthy, I get a +2 to flashily overcome someone’s reluctance when I try to bribe someone to do something I want them to. A Crocodile’s Tears Because I am an excellent actress, I get a +2 to sneakily create an advantage when I try to make someone take pity on me. To See is to Know Because I am very perceptive, I get a +2 to carefully create an advantage when I take the time to study a person.
Stress: [] [] []
Consequences:
(2, Mild) { }
(4, Moderate) { }
(6, Severe) { }
Fate Points (Refresh): 3 (3)

[Dworin]

Under the bridge Aemilian Bridge The bridge, serene and stately above their heads --- if one ignored the constant rattling of wooden wheels over the flagstones --- usually shades a quiet, desolated riverbank. But these last few minutes, it has been a coming and going of people. Where the embankement looked pristine before, the treacherous hole now gapes that was nearly fatal to jorunn. Tracks of soil trail fan out from the entrance to the sewer. Feet desperately looking for purchase have ploughed deep furrows in the soft bank, uprooting several bushes. The only thing that never changed is the dead drop. It is still closed like before. Near a chestnut shrub, a touslehaired youth lies panting from exertion with jorunn a little closer to the water, busy disentangling his hand from the netting. He takes a dagger in his free hand and deftly cuts the loops that kept his left hand trapped. He is just getting to his feet, murder in his eyes at the memory of the kick the Nubian had planted in his side, when Levian comes walking up to him. Where? he grunts but then he notices the youths returning from the sewer and a nasty grin splits his face. There he answers himself, satisfied, and before Levian can say more, he dashes off, roughly pushing the three young men aside and runs to the sewer, surprisingly soundless for the speed he develops. Then the darkness of the sewer swallows him and after a while it becomes clear he must have found the trail of his quarry. At least, nobody returns. The three men, embarrased to return empty handed and flustered by the shove they received from jorunn are somewhat surprised to see their patron, whom they had left on the street, now near the river in the company of a street tough they recognise from earlier. The sneak must have been after the lady and her money without lifting a hand to help them catch the Nubian. As soon as it is formed, this conclusion is confirmed by Dianthe's words. Without further ado, they lift the tough, who can't defend himself against three men at once, and throw him into the river. He immediately goes under, then comes up again, yelling in fear. Again, his head disappears. When next it comes up, there is no more yell, just coughing and spluttering as he tries to spit out water and suck in air before he is pulled under again. Then they see him no more. Astonished by what they have just done the three young men go rigid and look at eachother; they have become murderers! They look at Dianthe. The woman must have bewitched them! After a delay of a few heartbeats one of them breathes Goddes of witchcraftHekate another Witch who turned Odysseus' men into swineCirce. Then they turn on their heels and flee the scene of their crime.

[Yoshimi]

Fidelis Cursor A mud encrusted, scratched and bruised Fidelis unfolds painfully into a standing position beside the willow shrub. He picks up the silver coins from Levian and pockets them, smiling at the warrior. But before he can respond, Dianthe appears and gives her command, and another man is dumped by three assailants into the river behind him. He looks at his rescue pole, but before he can decide what to do, the fellow disappears below the surface, and the culprits flee. Frozen in shock at witnessing a murder, he looks open-mouthed at Dianthe. "Um. Well. I...assume that was necessary?" He laughs nervously and turns his grimy face to Levian. Then, seeing that the three are alone for now, he fishes about in a small pouch on his belt and holds out his token to the man, displaying his status as an Eagle. "My name is Fidelis, s..slave of the Gens Sestia." He puffs up a little. "And natural philosopher. I know who you both are. I have been sent to represent the interests of the golds, and to help with your mission. My predecessor apparently became obsessed with horses and is no longer on duty." He looks down at his muddy, bloody self. "How I am going to explain this when I get home, I do not know." The boy's gaze returns to Dianthe. "If I am out too long, the family will start to wonder where I am. Where does the investigation stand?"

 

RP Only

 

Fidelis Cursor
Aspects Approaches High Concept: Prodigy Serving as a Courier for the Gens Sestia Juno (careful) +2 Trouble: My Time Belongs to My Master Minerva (clever) +3 Ideal: Nature Awaits My Discovery Jupiter (flashy) +0 Petitio Videtur: One Day I Will Be Free Mars (forceful) +1 Virtus: A Beautiful Mind Mercury (quick) +2 Pluto (sneaky) +1
Background: Fidelis was named by his master, upon his birth to slaves in the house of Titus Sestius Robustus. As the boy grew into an able-bodied and trustworthy house servant, it was seen that he had been named aptly. Upon reaching his teenage years, the honest lad was trusted with the job of courier, running errands for his family to the other patricians, and for his efficiency and stamina he was even granted the nickname of Cursor. At the same time, he caught the attention of the family tutors with his keen discourse. It pleased Titus Sestius to allow him to be trained in mathematics and natural philosophy, for which he displayed an aptitude, in the hopes that his abilities would be an asset for the family. But in his heart, Fidelis Cursor longed to be the master of his own voyage of discovery into the fascinating world around him. So when he was approached by the Sinistram with the opportunity to solve problems outside of his normal duties, he jumped at the chance.
Stunts Magiverus +2 to Create an Advantage with Minerva when assembling something useful on the fly from random parts. Name of stunt 2 description of stunt 2 Name of stunt 3 description of stunt 3
Stress: [] [] []
Consequences:
(2, Mild) { }
(4, Moderate) { }
(6, Severe) { }
Fate Points (Refresh): 2 (3)

[Elanir]

Dianthe the Hetéra Dianthe the Hetéra Even as the laborers accuse her of the death of the man they threw into the river, Dianthe refuses to even grace them with a look. Her back remains turned to them the whole time, her eyes hard, staring at the river. The hetéra’s clenched fists are well hidden beneath her palla and she does all she can to appear cold and resolute, untouched by the tragedy of a man drowning in front of her eyes. Inwardly she trembles. I never intended for him to be killed!, she tries to persuade herself. I just thought… She knows well that she isn’t telling the truth. What did she expect? That the man would swim against the current and safely reach the opposite bank of the Tiber? Though most people of Rome live like rats, they don’t share the rodents’ ability to swim, sinking like stones in any body of water deeper than a grown man is tall. Finding bodies floating face down in the river is such a common occurrence that no resident of this great city will look twice at the man’s bloated corpse. After checking it for valuables, that is. The laborers continue to compare her with Hecate and Circe. Even without seeing them, Dianthe can easily picture them - the pointing fingers, the signs to ward off evil, the look of hatred, fear and revulsion in their eyes. Perhaps, this was also the way Odysseus’ companions were looking at Circe when first meeting her, she muses. Perhaps, she was forced to turn them into swines simply to protect herself from their malice. The young man’s words bring Dianthe back to reality. She realizes that her eyes are full of unshed tears and pretends that there is something in her eye. Her frown never leaves her face, even as she responds to the youth. Fidelis, slave of the Gens Sestia, she repeats silently, memorizing the names of the Eagle and that of the noble family he serves. "Shed no tears over the fate of such a man", she replies, hoping that her words ring confident and true. "He would have done much worse to me or any other person incapable of defending themselves, if he thought he would win a few ases by doing so. In all likelihood, I have saved many lives by taking just one." The hetéra hopes that she is speaking the truth and that she judged the man correctly. She also hopes that a wife and children won’t be waiting for him to return home this very evening, probably in some tiny room just beneath the leaky roof of an insula. She promises that she will find and take care of all the needs of any innocents she might have condemned along with the thug. Her expression softens as she sees Fidelis worry about having stained his tunic with mud and blood. "This is no place to discuss matters of importance. Let us head to my domus on the Caelian. There, you will have every opportunity of cleaning yourself up." Glancing at the still unconscious Abactemus, she exchanges silent looks with Levian. "We had better pretend that Abactemus is my husband who passed out after drinking too much wine. You are trusted men of his household, assisting me to bring him back home." She knows that the sight will attract ironic comments and hearty laughter, but no one is likely to be suspicious of them. Rome is filled with drunken husbands and overbearing wives. All she has to do is play her role believably. She knows she can do it without difficulty. What she doesn’t know is whether a day will come when Dianthe will be allowed to be herself. And if it does, will she still be able to recognize the true Dianthe from the hetéra and her many roles?

 

No actions.

 

Dianthe the Hetéra
Aspects Approaches High Concept: Sophisticated Seductress Foreignerfrom Ephesus Juno (careful) +1 Trouble: All Women are Jealous of My Fame Minerva (clever) +2 Ideal: Law is only as Mighty as the Magister who Enforces it Jupiter (flashy) +3 Petitio Videtur: A Child needs a Name, not a Father Mars (forceful) +0 Virtus: Whether by Wit or Wile, no Man can Resist Me Mercury (quick) +1 Pluto (sneaky) +2
Background: Originally from Ephesus in the province of Asia, Dianthe was tricked and humiliated by the governor of the province, Quintus Minucius Thermus. Abandoned with a child without a father, instead of returning to her family in shame, she joined the Heterae. Mastering their skills and excelling at their “art”, Dianthe relocated to Rome, where she made a name for herself. In order to force her husband to recognize her son as his legitimate child, she joined the Eagles, pledging her allegiance to Coppers.
Stunts Croesus’ Wealth Because I am fabulously wealthy, I get a +2 to flashily overcome someone’s reluctance when I try to bribe someone to do something I want them to. A Crocodile’s Tears Because I am an excellent actress, I get a +2 to sneakily create an advantage when I try to make someone take pity on me. To See is to Know Because I am very perceptive, I get a +2 to carefully create an advantage when I take the time to study a person.
Stress: [] [] []
Consequences:
(2, Mild) { }
(4, Moderate) { }
(6, Severe) { }
Fate Points (Refresh): 3 (3)

[squirmonkey]

Levian Levian Osmanthus Levian's shock at learning of Fidelis' status as an Eagle is not well concealed. Once again, he has to applaud the cleverness of the Sinistram. Already, he had been considering that the young resourceful slave would make a good spy. He is impressed that the Senate's resources have allowed them to discover this talent, hidden in the form of a young slave boy. Levian offers Fidelis no apology for the insult of the coins he tossed. He simply remarks "We can always use more eyes and hands." He notices the murder, and sneers a cruel smile at Dianthe "You came to this bridge with a soldier and an assassin, yet it is you who leaves a body behind." He stands up, heaving Abactemus up with him "Who would have guessed?" "I have no doubt you can sell such a ruse. It's not ideal... better not to be seen at all. We will be remembered enough that news of our actions will reach the ears of any who know the right questions to ask. Still, it's better than staying here any longer. Lead the way." As the trio makes their way away from the bridge, Levian spares another moment to consider Fidelis' arrival. It had only been a day prior that Aspacanah had failed to arrive for one of their meetups, gone out of contact. How quickly, he muses, an Eagle is replaced. Those chosen few selected to serve the Senate behind closed doors... he would have thought them harder to choose, and harder to substitute one for another. Another in this position might turn their mind to thoughts of whether they will one day be replaced themselves, but such an idea does not trouble Levian, for he knows it shall not be so. Rather, he thinks, that this is another way in which the wisdom of the Sinistram can make him more effective in his own work. In a quiet moment as the Eagles walk down a side alley, Levian makes room to address Dianthe once more. "Take her. I will find another."   Levian Osmanthus Aspects Approaches High Concept: Fanatical Ex-Legionary Juno (careful) +3 Trouble: Cold-Hearted Bastard Minerva (clever) +2 Ideal: Humans are as Gears to Rome's Great Machine Jupiter (flashy) +1 Petitio Videtur: Only I Can Save the Republic Mars (forceful) +2 Virtus: The Stones and Bricks are my Eyes and Ears Mercury (quick) +0 Pluto (sneaky) +1 Stunts True Believer once per session I can persuade someone to do something that benefits the republic, even at their own expense Spies Everywhere once per session I can ask the GM a question about something that happened in the city, and receive a truthful answer. Served in the Legions +2 to Sneakily Overcome when I ask a soldier to bend the rules for me. Stress: [] [] [] Consequences: (2, Mild) { } (4, Moderate) { } (6, Severe) { } Fate Points (Refresh): 4 (3)

[Dworin]

In front of the domus Vibius Ignius Phrynnis Abactemus Though Abactemus is not heavy, climbing the stone stairs with a dead weight on his shoulders is a bit of a strain, but soon they reach the street level and they face other problems. The gossip hungry idlers filling Rome's street pounce on everything slightly out of the ordinary and this little procession is making their day. From the corner of their eyes, Dianthe, Levian and Fidelis can see these loafers elbowing each other and making comments behind their hands about the group. While Dianthe pulls the face of a matron who is dismayed and angry with her drunk husband, Levian portrays distaste at his master's lack of discipline and Fidelis seems to pity his master. The ruse works. He's going to get it at home, says one commentator. Come drown your sorrows with us tonight! suggests another, himself no image of sobriety despite the early hour. Hastily they continue on their way. They can feel the stares glued on their backs; some good-for-nothings are even bold enough to follow them for a while, but they quickly think better of that when they receive a dark stare from Levian. Still, it would take only one, just one of them to have ever sold something to Abactemus... When they are near to Dianthe's domus, they just see the gates close behind Gaius Taurillus, who has finished with Aristarchus for the day. They now become aware of a strange irregular sound. Between the usual shuffling and clacking of feet on the pavement, cleaner here than in some other parts of the city, there is one tread that has a knocking sound as from a loose heel. There, that's him! The one carrying that drunk fellow! At that moment, Abactemus stirs. He looks left and right in bewilderment, trying to remember what happened to him. When he grasps what is said about him, he protests loudly: I am not drunk, I have been knocked down! Abducted in broad daylight! Let me go! I am a Roman Citizen! Ignaea, because the loose heel was indeed hers, is dragged in front of Levian by an immaculately dressed man, his perfectly curled hair peeking out from under a jaunty cap, carrying a cithara. Don't you know who I am? he asks haughtily, addressing nobody in particular. The tone of his question makes it clear that in his world, there is no room for people who do not know his name. Vibius! Vibius! V.I.P! Vibius Ignius Phrynnis! The four following him are too old to be called children but too young to be called youngsters. They are well-dressed and look to be from good families. They must have given their tutors the slip to be near the cithara master they adore. With an imperious gesture, Vibius silences his followers. Why did you tell this goose I would be her teacher? Do you think I have time for that? I, sir, let you know that I am the most sought after cithara master in Rome! I perform every day and every night! Only those who can't get jobs teach! Man with the flower! she nearly spits the words in his face, This is how you ...? She turns around to face the people who have stopped to watch from a safe distance. Everything he asked I did for him. Everything! And this is how I am repaid! She turns back to Levian, Should I tell them? eh? Should I tell them?

 

The screaming are a mob, which means I play them as one npc but with adjusted approaches. The stress boxes are individual, so each box takes only one stress. For mobs (and for mobs only) it is possible to fill more than one box per action.

Normally in a conflict there is a turn order but for PbP that complicates things a bit too much, so we'll just have a free for all in round one, then move to the next round etc.

Vibius is attacking Levian with Jupiter. Abactemus is trying to create an advantage: Everyone knows I'm a citizen. Ignaea is trying to create an advantage: I could tell them something about you. The fans are too absorbed in Vibius to do anything useful this turn.

You can discuss your strategy in the OOC thread. Either attack straight away or create advantages first.

Dice Vibius attack with Jupiter:

4df+4

(1, 0, 0, 1)+4

Total = 6

Dice Ignaea CaA with Minerva:

4df+2sh2

(0, -1, 0, 0)+2

✘

Total = 1

Dice Abactemus CaA with Juno:

4df+3sh2

(-1, 0, 0, 0)+3

✔

Total = 2

Situation Situation aspects: A Curious Crowd; Everyone knows I'm a citizen[Abactemus] Opponents: Abactemus High Aspect: Fence Trouble: I would sell my mother for the right price. Pluto: +4 Mercury, Juno: +3 Stunts: Slanderer: When I insult someone in front of others, I get weapon:2 (attack with Pluto) [ ][ ][ ] (no consequences) Objective in scene: Does not want to enter Dianthe's domus. Vibius Ignius Phrynnis High Aspect: Cithara master Trouble: I am a prima donna. Jupiter: +4 Juno, Mercury: +3 stunts: The world revolves around me: When someone else is attacked, I attract the attack to myself with a strum on my cithara. Put a spell on you, baby: When I play a flashy song, I can spend a fate point to make it affect everyone (attack with Jupiter). I'm above your judgement: Once per session in a non-physical conflict, I can spend a fate point to clear out my stress boxes. [ ][ ][ ] minor consequence: () minor consequence: () Objective in scene: makes these wretches understand he is not to be trifled with. Ignaea Minerva: +2 Objective in scene: revenge Four screaming fans (2 with Mars +1, 2 with Jupiter +1) As a mob: Mars +2, Jupiter +2. [ ] ; [ ] ; [ ] ; [ ] Objective in scene: whatever Vibius does works for us Game master fate points: 4

[Noquarter19]

Gaius Taurillus Gaius Taurillus Gaius Taurillus closed the wooden door behind him and took a moment to breathe in the warm Mediterranean atmosphere. If he closed his eyes and imagined, he could almost taste the salty air coming off the Tyrrhenian Sea. I could be away on a boat, adrift like a piece of flotsam, away from this open sewer of a city. It was nice to dream, nice to imagine a world where he was beholden to none but himself and whatever he chose to do on that particular day. He could practically see the cerulean waters, even from almost forty kilometers; in his mind’s eye, they were but a stone’s throw from him. And then the moment passed, and he opened his eyes and stared indifferently toward the horizon. Ahead, the wrought iron bars of the villa’s front gate stretched up toward the heavens, and it reminded him somehow of being imprisoned. It was the early afternoon, and the sun was hot on his skin, the flesh beneath his robes beginning to itch and sweat. He had just finished a lesson with the son of Dianthe, a patrician woman who had commissioned his services a short time ago. Her son was a young man by the name of Aristarchus, and it was good that Gaius was a patient man, but better that he was well compensated. The boy was something of a complainer – a common failing of many of these wealthy sons, though not severe enough to drive him away from the profession. I’ve come close several times, but for some reason I keep getting up in the morning to teach. My father always said I was too stubborn for my own good..* Getting the boy to engage with the material was hit or miss, and today was mostly hit – except for sums. Using an abacus was of some help, but trying to get him to visualize the problems in his head was like trying to draw blood from a stone. There was only so much that Gaius could do; by the same token, his distress was self-imposed. I could be clear of conscience if I were to lower my standards, to strip away the very soul of my work. Many magisters did not care that their pupils learned, but only that they could recite back what was told to them. They didn’t want students, they wanted parrots. Gaius did not. Rome was full enough of parrots. Outside the gate, he spotted the normal throng of everyday passers-by. He gripped the knobby oak branch that served as his walking stick and walked slowly toward the gate. His stomach rumbled; it would be time for cena soon. He opened the gate and listened to the squeak of the metal hinges. Ahead, a group of people were looking in his general direction, one of whom appeared to be asleep or drunk, or perhaps he had died, and his friends were taking him for a last walk before burial. It occurred to him then that several of the faces were familiar to him, and he was about to call out in greeting when several others hurried toward the quartet. One figure was holding a musical instrument and the arm of a woman, and they were followed by a group of youngsters. ”Why did you tell this goose I would be her teacher? Do you think I have time for that? I, sir, let you know that I am the most sought after cithara master in Rome! I perform every day and every night! Only those who can’t get jobs teach!” Arrogant ass, Gaius thought acidly. Every damned musician in this city has an inflated opinion of themselves, much like those in the Senate. The bard had a woman by the arm, and she was looking from her captor to one of the men carrying the drunk – only as Gaius watched, the man seemed to be roused back to consciousness and began looking around in astonishment. ”I am not drunk, I have been knocked down! Abducted in broad daylight! Let me go! I am a Roman Citizen!” Curiouser and curiouser, Gaius thought. He had forgotten about the cerulean waters of the Tyrrhenian Sea, about what he would dine on for cena, and about abaci and the simple-minded students who used them. Right now, his focus was on the growing storm a short distance away. Much like Aristarchus had struggled in vain to work out the sum of nine and seven, Gaius now struggled to make sense of the strange situation before him. A patrician mother, a learned slave, and a legionnaire turned spymaster – what could such a trio possibly have in common? And why would they kidnap a man in broad daylight? He had shut the gate, but upon recognizing Dianthe, he slowly pushed the iron bars open again before walking tentatively in the direction of the growing conflict. There was a growing suspicion in his mind, a recollection from a few evenings’ past. He had been called upon in the dark of night by, of all people, a Roman senator. I should have turned him away, he had thought later, had thought more than once – but he hadn’t. And deep in his heart, he knew he had made the right decision. Three days ago, he had been recruited into an organization known as the Eagle Eyes. Assurances of future answers were made to him, but much like Aristarchus’ sums, assurance could not be touched. You will be called upon soon, he’d been told, but since then it had been quiet. There had been talk of other members of this mysterious organization, but he was given no specific names. Looking now, the certainty in his heart began to grow. I do not believe in coincidence. Gaius cleared his throat. ”Forgive my interruption, Vibius. I am Magister Gaius Erucius Taurillus, and I could not help but overhear your… distasteful views regarding teaching. Most unfortunate. I was actually of a mind to attend one of your performances, but, seeing how you conduct yourself – belittling others, manhandling a woman who is not even your slave…” He turned his gaze on the four youngsters who were following the musician. ”You lot should be home, finishing your lessons or setting down for cena. Away with you!” He turned back to the musician. ”No man is above god, not even those who play the cithara. You would do well to remember that, young man, before you find yourself reduced to playing in some winesink.” He paused, as if considering something, and his features softened. ”But perhaps this was just a misunderstanding, perhaps you meant that you could not teach this young woman ‘today’! I’m sure that’s what you meant. And to show you bear this young woman no hard feelings, perhaps a song to lighten the mood and clear the air! Come, my brothers and sisters,” he said, gesturing to the curious crowd of onlookers, ”come join me as the young minstrel Vibius fills the air with heavenly notes!” And behind him, the gate to Dianthe’s villa swings open meaningfully.   Eagle Character Sheet OOC Actions: Using Minerva to cleverly attack Vibius (verbally) and manipulate him into playing his cithara for the crowd (as well as taking their attention off Abactemus and the Eagles. Dice Minerva attack: 4df+3 (1, -1, 0, 0)+3 Total = 3 Gaius Erucius Taurillus Aspects Approaches High Concept: Impatient elder scholar Minerva (clever) +3 Trouble: Problem With Authority Juno (careful) +2 Ideal: Logic Over Feelings Pluto (sneaky) +2 Petitio Videtur: Restore the Honor of My Father Mars (forceful) +1 Virtus: Mind Like a Steel Trap Mercury (quick) +1 Jupiter (flashy) +0 Stunts Attention to Detail Because I let myself analyze the whole scene before jumping to conclusions, I get a +2 when Carefully analyzing a crime sceneDescription You Would Not Part An Old Man From His Walking Stick Because I am older and do not appear threatening, I get a +2 when I Sneakily attack with my walking stickDescription Time to Teach You a Lesson Because I have been a magister for a great while, I can give another player a +2 to Cleverly work out something related to the caseDescription Stress: [] [] [] Consequences: (2, Mild) { } (4, Moderate) { } (6, Severe) { } Fate Points (Refresh): 3 (3) Background:   Forty years is a long time to hold onto hate. It ages you. It seeps into your bones and turns them arthritic, bleeds into the hair and turns it grey and then white, prematurely. Hate has other dark sides to it as well. It often leads to drink. It robs you of the best years of your life as you sit there and decay. Hate is a powerful salt that denatures you moment by moment, until a life that was once fresh and vibrant turns acerbic. But that is forty years in the future. Right now, you are a young man, barely into your teens. You live a life of privilege, the son of a Roman senator, a clever young man with a promising future, the son of an honorable man, a righteous man who does his best to do right by the Republic and the people contained within. Of course, as with any offspring who has not had to work hard to earn his bread, some level of presumptuousness and arrogance is not unexpected, but at least these are of lesser measure than in many other households throughout Rome, households where the children have learned nothing of discipline or hard work, where they have spoiled from the inside like an abscessed tooth. There will always be some measure of entitlement entrenched into such children, but you have not spoiled. You have been taught to appreciate work, to understand that, while your might be better off than a common galley slave, you are still a human being – and circumstances could just as easily have been reversed. You learned, in essence, to draw your own water from the well. The villa is quiet now. Father is away, attending another grueling meeting with the other senators at the Curia Hostilia. You are worried for him, but not overly so. There is much talk of anger and fear in Rome. It is said that Lucius Cornelius Sulla Felix – Sulla, to his men – is soon to wrap up his campaign against Mithridates and his armies in the east, and that his navy now surpasses a thousand ships. There is fear, because it was only a few short years ago Sulla had marched on Rome itself, and there is no telling what he will do now, or how strong his lust for power might be. Father had been appalled at the general then, and had not been quiet about it, much to the woe of his wife, Claudia. You turn your head, listening. Mother is still asleep in the main solar, but you cannot sleep. Not even your studies seem enough to distract you. It is dusk, so you take an oil lantern and step outside to stretch your legs, hoping the fresh air might put your soul at peace. The air is calm, and the branches of the Mediterranean cypress trees lining the avenue sway only a little. You take a deep breath, enjoying this quiet, calm moment, unaware that it is the last time you will know peace in your life. And then the muted clopping of hoofbeats breaks into your consciousness. You peer down the avenue, holding the oil lantern up as your eyes try to penetrate the darkness. A brief flutter of fear crosses your heart like a cloud crossing the sun, and then it is gone. Just a rider, you think, surely nothing to worry about. Your grip on the lantern grows tighter as you wait for the messenger to approach. A moment later, the figure reins up, stopping the horse less than ten feet from where you stand statuesque, your legs gone leaden. ”On behalf of the senate of Rome, I seek the wife of Laertus Tullius. I have a message concerning her husband.” You gulp down your fear, heavy and dense like a stone, and try to stand as tall as your thin, teenage body will allow. Although it is summer, the night suddenly feels chill, and you pull your tunic a little tighter. ”My mother sleeps within. I am the son of Laertus Tullius. Whatever message you have to pass along you may pass to me.” Your words sound firm, but that small tremor of fear is vibrating within you like a lyre string. The messenger peers down at you from atop his horse; his expression is flat. ”Very well. Your father has been arrested for treason. He has been imprisoned in the Tullianum, there to await sentencing for his crimes.” The impact of the messenger’s words hit you like a hammer to the chest, and you are finding it hard to breathe. ”What-?” you stammer out, but it sounds more like a soft exhalation, and it goes unheard. The oil lamp trembles in your hand. The messenger continues as though you had not spoken. ”You and your mother may, of course, make an appeal in the morning to the senate itself,…” He trails off, the rest of the statement going unsaid, yet still crystal clear in meaning: ’not that it will do much good.’ By this point you have started to breathe again. You’re still stunned, but the earth beneath your feet seems to have stopped spinning. ”Sir, I do not understand – what is it my father is supposed to have done? He has always served the republic in good stead, I cannot believe-“ ”I am just the messenger, young man. If you have questions, you may ask them at the appeal in the morning. I bid you good evening.” And with that, the messenger gathers up his reins and turns the horse about before cantering back down the gravel avenue and disappearing into the darkness like a wraith, leaving you alone in front of the villa that had been a bastion of peace for the first fourteen years of your life. Unable to help yourself, you turn and vomit into the bushes. Your dinner of fish, bread, and wine comes back up and leaves you retching, your mouth foul. The clay oil lamp lies shattered on the ground where it had tumbled from your grasp. You take a few moments to wipe your mouth and compose yourself, and then you turn and enter the villa and creep into your mother’s solar to wake her. There was never to be an appeal. By the time you and your mother had reached the meeting house that next morning, your father had been slain in his cell, murdered by a cutthroat who had gotten hold of a thin strip of metal which had been ground into a blade – or at least, that was the official story you were told. There was no appeal, nor even an explanation as to what your father was supposed to have done to merit his arrest. All that remained were questions, endless questions with no answers. You pondered whether this had been an isolated incident, a one-and-done, an incident that ended with your father’s demise… or were the conspirators going to see the entire Tullius family destroyed. The truth was that it already had been, even if you and your mother still breathed. Her grief was immense; it burned hot and bright and fast like a bonfire, and in the end, there was just a black smudge where her spirit had once existed. She remained a recluse and never left the villa until her passing seven years later, when you carried her broken, emaciated husk off to be cremated. Meanwhile, your grief and your anger were like two smoldering flames that burned low and slow, sometimes flaring up bright orange and other times seeming to disappear amongst the ashes. You buried yourself in study as a means of distracting your mind. You became a magister, and for the next three decades you taught the youths of wealthy Roman families the fundamentals of reading, writing, and mathematics. But you were an oddity. Whereas many other magisters of the time taught by rote and ruled over their pupils like a dictator, you were an aberration. You taught not just what the answer was, but why it was. You taught them to think for themselves, and you subtly instilled in them a proclivity for questioning authority. ”How do you know I am right?” you often asked your pupils, much to their puzzlement. ”Just because I say a thing is true, does that make it so? If you cannot think for yourself and use your own judgement, you will fall prey to the machinations of others. They will lead you like a bull led by the nose ring if you let them. Without the ability to think for yourself, you will never be your own person; you will simply become whatever they want you to be.” You found a great joy in gently subverting the status quo, because it at least gave you hope for a better tomorrow, with a more learned populus. Still, the true nature of your father’s death lingered like a canker, and in the quiet solitude of night, you found little peace. It seemed like you would spend the rest of your days wondering, always wondering. And outside, the a crackle of thunder booms as the first few raindrops begin to fall.   It had been raining for three straight days. The air inside the decaying villa of Gaius Taurillus was humid and uncomfortable, even as the hour approached ten in the evening. The streets were muddy and rutted, and only a fool would be out so late with such inclement weather. It was therefore a complete surprise when he was awakened by a sudden rapping on his front door. The scholar started, upsetting the silver goblet, and spilling the last few drops of wine onto the wooden table that had served to prop up his head. The silver had long since tarnished, a symbol of his family’s success, now gone to seed, and he cursed aloud in the quiet gloom of his solar. ”Gods be praised, but who calls at this hour? If you are a solicitor, I shall-“ he growled, stumbling in the darkness as he fumbled about for a stub of candle. In a few moments there was a thin flickering light to see by, and the middle-aged magister eventually found his way to the foyer, while only barking his shin once during the trek. A growling curse spilled out from a face thick with grey beard, and he had to shut his eyes momentarily against the pain. He touched the stub of candle to a pair of tapers set into bronze sconces, and then lifted the thick latch that had secured the door. He then reached for the long pole that served as a walking stick and pushed the door open. ”Who calls?” he barked, his eyes peering into the rain-filled night. His right hand held the walking stick at his side – not brandishing it, but displaying it prominently for the untimely visitor. The figure turned in the dim light. Hidden by a rain-spattered cloak, they were leaning against a stone pillar that supported the weathered portico. ”Speak quickly, for you’ve disturbed my rest and-“ ”Might I come in?” came a smooth voice. A thin hand threw back the hood, revealing a plain face, male, balding on top with short-cropped hair gone silver at the temples. ”The gods have seen fit to send us another flood, or at least so it seems. I was hard pressed to find your villa in the gloom.” ”Perhaps you should have called at more opportune time – in the daylight, for instance. Or not at all.” Gaius had made no move to allow the man entry, while his fingers gripped the stick a little tighter. ”Perhaps,” the visitor acquiesced, ”but then that would have rather defeated the purpose of traveling covertly, would it not?” He eyed the walking stick with a smirk then shifted his position slightly. Gaius peered past him. The figure was holding a hooded oil lantern, and in the dim edge of the lantern’s light he could just make out the muted reflection of bronze scales. A Legionnaire. The grip on his walking stick loosened slightly. ”What do you want?” he said again, unable to fully hide the trace of defeat in his tone. ”I’ve nothing here that would be of any interest to one so as important as to travel under guard. Unless-“ He held the candle up so he might see better. The figure had the oil lantern in his left hand, and as Gaius looked closer, he could see the unmistakable gleam of a gold band on the man’s small finger. He cursed silently in his head. ”What could a Senator possibly want with a tired old magister at this time of night? Perhaps some sort of tutoring emergency?” The scorn in his voice was unmistakable. The senator chuckled. ”I see the tales of your keen eye were not unfounded. Nor the tales of your bristly demeanor. I am Lucius Naevius Iovianus, and I would exchange words with you inside, if you please-“ ”I do not,” Gaius said. ”State your business and begone.” For the first time, a ripple of anger fluttered over the senator’s face. ”You would do well to respect your betters, magister, especially if you ever want to know the truth about your father.” Behind him, the legionnaire shifted, the clink of scale mail suddenly loud against the backdrop of rain. Gaius swallowed once, but remained firm. [b]”My father is dead and gone. I’ll not dig up his bones all over again, and certainly not at the whims of some senator who, for all I know had a hand in his imprisonment. Now begone with you!”[b] He was losing his temper - more than that, he was rattled. He reached to push the door closed. ”Oh, I had no part in your father’s arrest – though I did know him, albeit briefly. I am quite serious, sir. I know the years have chafed, the fall of the noble Taurillus family has weighed heavy. And I know many people… many things about those people. Things thought buried. Things… which might come to light once more. Ah, but I am wasting your time. Guard! We are done here. The noble magister has chosen to resume the downward slope of his life, and we shall leave him to it. Gaius, I wish you well. Good eve-“ ”Wait.” The voice had lost some of its vinegar. ”You- you speak truly? You actually knew Laertus Tullius?” The grin resurfaced on the face of the senator, who by this point had turned and replaced his hood. ”Aye, I did, for a short while. And I know many of the men who served the people of Rome alongside him. And you might have opportunity to know more about those men – if you are willing to let me in, of course.” Gaius didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. The droop of his chin said it for him. He let go of the door, which slowly began to creak open. As the magister stepped numbly to the side, the senator and his guard entered. Gaius peered out into the night, staring into the darkness as the rain continued to fall, before slowly closing the door.   Gaius and Dianthe: Gaius was commissioned to instruct Dianthe’s son, a young man who has impressed him with his outspokenness and . The boy speaks often of learning from his mother. Thinking about this later, Gaius recalls that their earlier interaction was very brief. It one of the few times he can recall instructing the child of a single parent, and even rarer for that child to be of such fine character. His curiosity gets the better of him, and so one day he goes to call on Dianthe to discuss how well her son has taken to the language portion of his teachings (mathematics is another matter), but mostly to sate his curiosity. Gaius and Fidelis: Gaius could count on one hand how many times he has heard of a slave receiving an education from their master – and he would still have four fingers left over. The two crossed paths several years ago when the magister who normally instructed Fidelis fell ill for an extended period, and Gaius was recommended as a temporary substitute. The instructor was flabbergasted to find that Fidelis was not an empty-headed vessel of a vassal, but instead took to the lessons quickly. While their time together was brief, Gaius would not soon forget meeting the young man. Gaius and Levian: Theirs was an unusual crossing of paths, though the end result was much the same. While shopping in the forum one evening after a session, Gaius happened upon a young man furtively attempting to read a bit of parchment when he thought nobody was looking. Gaius watched the figure from about twenty feet away as he stared at the scrap of message before turning it upside down, hoping that would work. After about three minutes of watching this, Gaius took pity on the young man and quietly walked over to offer his assistance. It turned out that the young man was a spy for another man, one Levian Osmanthus. After being taken to meet with Levian, Gaius offered to act as a consultant to the spymaster, more out of curiosity than anything else, and has worked in a limited capacity for his organization for the last several months.

[squirmonkey]

Levian Levian Osmanthus Levian is tense for the entire walk through the streets of Rome. Being out in the open like this, exposed, it's not in his nature and it makes him uncomfortable. Dianthe's ruse will work, he's certain. But not all are susceptible to such ruses. Even a few people disbelieving as they pass could mean trouble in the coming days. But soon trouble in the coming days is the least of Levian's concerns, for Ignaea returns, and she has brought a crowd with her. Suddenly, shouting and accusations fill the quiet midday air outside the estate for which they are headed. And to make matters far worse, the shouting has roused Abactemus, who now protests his abduction for all to hear. Levian's mind darkens. He regrets not having asked Jorunn to remove Ignaea from the city much sooner. Indeed, it is only the Senate's admonition not to leave a trail of bodies that stills Levian's blade in this moment. First, he answers the accusations leveled at him by the Cithara master. "Why, master Vibius! Of course I know of you, it is a great honor to stand in your illustrious presence. But, this girl, I cannot say I have seen her be- Ah!" he interrupts himself, as though suddenly remembering something "A thousand apologies, good master Vibius, I fear I know what has happened. Two days ago I encountered this... vagabond... begging in the streets with her lyre. Forgive me the failings of my heart, but I took pity on the wretched creature." Levian shakes his head remorsefully "I left her a few coins and told her something like 'Keep playing, and I'm sure one day you will play alongside the great masters of the city.' You must understand, good master, that I meant it only as idle kindness to the destitute. I could not have imagined she would take it upon herself to accost you in such a manner. Truly, she is colder of heart than I could have guessed." The awkward phrasing of that last sentence is no accident. "Cold" is one of the codewords he once used with Ignaea. It means danger. Levian suspects Ignaea is too far gone, lost in her anger and indignation, to look for the coded words. But if she notices that one, he hopes she will take it to understand the grave danger she has placed herself in with this foolish act of disobedience. If there is a chance that this simple change of phrasing will blunt some of her hostility, it is a chance worth taking, as it costs Levian little to attempt. His attention then turns to Abactemus. Once behind the walls of Dianthe's estate, his objections will fall upon deaf ears. So for now, his priority is to ensure they reach that safety with Abactemus in tow. Turning his back to the crowd, Levian folds his arms tightly across Abactemus's legs, clutching the mans knee tightly with one hand, and locking his arm in place with the other. He hopes to make it impossible for the man to escape his grasp. He speaks to Abactemus as he does "Please Master, shame your good wife no further with your shouting. We will be home soon" Then he pushes up the hill towards the gate. The end of this nightmare lies beyond its iron bars, he is certain. OOC Actions Okay I'm doing two things here. The first thing is the Defend against Vibius. I'm thinking this one is Minerva, since it's sort of a "quick thinking" thing to come up with an explanation for Ignaea's nonsense that simultaneously tries to discredit her and play to VIP's arrogance. But also none of it's true, so I could see it being Pluto instead. If you think it is, feel free to subtract one from this result. I'm going to roll, and then see about spending points to modify: Dice Defend with Minerva: 4df+2 (-1, -1, 1, 0)+2 Total = 1 Alas! Okay I'll spend one Fate Point to invoke Cold Hearted Bastard which I feel applies because the heart of this action is dragging Ignaea through the mud. That takes me to +3, and then I'll mark my 3 stress box to endure the attack. --- Then, I'm Creating an advantage against Abactemus that will help me maintain my grip on him if he tries to get free. That one's Mars Dice CAA with Mars: 4df+2 (-1, 1, 0, 0)+2 Total = 2 That should succeed, yeah?   Levian Osmanthus Aspects Approaches High Concept: Fanatical Ex-Legionary Juno (careful) +3 Trouble: Cold-Hearted Bastard Minerva (clever) +2 Ideal: Humans are as Gears to Rome's Great Machine Jupiter (flashy) +1 Petitio Videtur: Only I Can Save the Republic Mars (forceful) +2 Virtus: The Stones and Bricks are my Eyes and Ears Mercury (quick) +0 Pluto (sneaky) +1 Stunts True Believer once per session I can persuade someone to do something that benefits the republic, even at their own expense Spies Everywhere once per session I can ask the GM a question about something that happened in the city, and receive a truthful answer. Served in the Legions +2 to Sneakily Overcome when I ask a soldier to bend the rules for me. Stress: [] [] [X] Consequences: (2, Mild) { } (4, Moderate) { } (6, Severe) { } Fate Points (Refresh): 3 (3)

[Elanir]

Dianthe the Hetaira Dianthe the Hetaira Rome’s calendar is full of inauspicious days, days that are considered unlucky and inappropriate for making any important decisions or resolving any public matters. On such days, Dianthe always makes sure that she doesn’t leave her domus or receive any visitors, but spends her time in leisure and contemplation, away from anything and anyone that could harm her. This is definitely such a day and the hetaira wishes she has paid more attention to her instincts warning her about escorting Levian and Jorunn to the Aemilian bridge. Nothing but ill has come of it and there is no sign that the streak of bad luck will end anytime soon. Dianthe isn’t concerned about the crowd of idle passersby and curious onlookers. She can make them see what she wants them to see. Neither is she particularly concerned with Ignaea’s thirst for revenge or Vibius Ignius Phrynnis’ show of indignation. Both have their weaknesses and she is confident that with some effort she can manipulate them like a potter shapes clay, though she wishes that the girl hadn’t acted so rashly. What does concern her is the involvement of Aristarchos’ tutor, Gaius Erucius Taurillus. The man is intelligent, probably more intelligent than all others who enter the hetaira’s domus, and he has a propensity towards voicing his observations and misgivings with little concern for politeness or discretion. Even if he currently seems to support the three Eagles in their goal of resolving this situation as quickly as possible, Dianthe knows that the old patrician won’t rest until he finds out what this is all about. No matter how skillful she is, the hetaira doubts that she can fool a man with a mind as keen as Taurillus, not after what he has witnessed. Still, there is little she can do but face one problem after the other. And the most pressing matter right now is Abactemus. He must be silenced or, more to the point, his words must fall on deaf ears. "Oh, you cruel man, how you disrespect me in front of the good people of the city!", Dianthe cries out, her cheeks burning with anger and embarrassment. "What must our friends and neighbors think of me? A witch they’ll call me, an overbearing wife torturing her poor, innocent husband. Have you no shame? How can you tell such lies? Or is it Bacchus who is speaking through your wine-stained lips again?" The hetaira covers her face with her palms, but not before the onlookers witness the tears flowing from them without restrain. "My dear father warned me not to marry a man who spends more time in the tabernae of Rome than he does in his own officetablinum or the forum, but I was blinded by Cupid! I believed your promises, even as the wine erased them from your mind." Dianthe’s sobs intensify and she almost collapses, the weight of her misfortune suddenly too great to bear. But then she suddenly turns her hands into fists and glares at Abactemus with burning eyes. "You may have rights, husband, but so do I! I’ll divorce you right here and now and then you will have to return me the dowry you have spent drinking and whoring in places best left unnamed. Get inside and keep your mouth shut before you bring not only shame but also ruin upon yourself!" Turning to Levian, the hetaira extends her arm and points to her domus. "Do your duty, good servantservus, and shield your master from himself. Help him inside, for the wine won’t let him walk straight like a freeborn man should. I’ll be right behind you." Still trembling with indignation, Dianthe walks swiftly towards her house, her head kept low, not daring to meet Taurillus’ gaze.

 

Dianthe tries to create an advantage (“A drunkard’s words are hollow words”) by taking a sneaky/Pluto approach. She gets a +2 bonus from her Crocodile’s Tears stunt.

Dice Roll:

4df+4

(0, 1, 0, -1)+4

Total = 4

 

Dianthe the Hetaira
Aspects Approaches High Concept: Sophisticated Seductress Foreignerfrom Ephesus Juno (careful) +1 Trouble: All Women are Jealous of My Fame Minerva (clever) +2 Ideal: Law is only as Mighty as the Magister who Enforces it Jupiter (flashy) +3 Petitio Videtur: A Child needs a Name, not a Father Mars (forceful) +0 Virtus: Whether by Wit or Wile, no Man can Resist Me Mercury (quick) +1 Pluto (sneaky) +2
Background: Originally from Ephesus in the province of Asia, Dianthe was tricked and humiliated by the governor of the province, Quintus Minucius Thermus. Abandoned with a child without a father, instead of returning to her family in shame, she joined the Hetairae. Mastering their skills and excelling at their “art”, Dianthe relocated to Rome, where she made a name for herself. In order to force her husband to recognize her son as his legitimate child, she joined the Eagles, pledging her allegiance to Coppers.
Stunts Croesus’ Wealth Because I am fabulously wealthy, I get a +2 to flashily overcome someone’s reluctance when I try to bribe someone to do something I want them to. A Crocodile’s Tears Because I am an excellent actress, I get a +2 to sneakily create an advantage when I try to make someone take pity on me. To See is to Know Because I am very perceptive, I get a +2 to carefully create an advantage when I take the time to study a person.
Stress: [] [] []
Consequences:
(2, Mild) { }
(4, Moderate) { }
(6, Severe) { }
Fate Points (Refresh): 3 (3)

[Yoshimi]

Fidelis Cursor That is her! The one I saw playing by the fountain! As Ignae launches her tirade against Levian, the boy's eyes grow slightly unfocused in his mud-streaked face. A half smile creeps up the right side of his features. Her words do not register right away, so taken is he simply by the aggrieved tone in her lovely voice. Was she in need of help? What had Levian done to her? This Vibius man would not teach her? Did he not realize what a legacy she would be for his talent? If he was so talented, at that? Her presence fuzzes out even the excitement he would normally have felt at seeing so obviously scholarly a man as Gaius Taurillus. But when that august personage speaks, Fidelis blinks and turns his attention to the man. He was challenging Vibius to play here? Yes! The man is as brilliant as he looks. If Vibius Phrynnis will play and then let the girl play, he will see, and will agree to instruct her. Then Levian speaks, and the warrior's harsh and condescending upbraid punches through the light pink haze that had been clouding Fidelis' thoughts. He frowns and completely forgets his station. "You're wrong!" Realizing his outburst was unseemly, he flushes beneath his coating of grime and blood. But he feels Ignae's eyes on him, and clears his throat, determining to see this through. In a more composed tone, he continues, "You're wrong. I have heard this girl play before, and rarely has any music captivated me more fully with its loveliness." Fidelis turns to the young devotees of Vibius. "Yes, let us hear the Master play, whose every word you hang on!" He then turns his gaze one by one to each onlooker, continuing in a pleading tone. "But then let Vibius Ignius Phrynnis hear the stylings of this fair girl after, and then you will see! Then you will beg him to mentor her, that she may take his mantle when he is ready to pass it on." He turns to Ignae and beams, before blushing and turning his eyes to the ground.

 

Self-Compel Aspect: Easily Smitten: Fidelis will try to be gallant when a young woman is in distress. +1 Fate Point for causing a delay in our escape and risking punishment

 

Fidelis Cursor
Aspects Approaches High Concept: Prodigy Serving as a Courier for the Gens Sestia Juno (careful) +2 Trouble: My Time Belongs to My Master Minerva (clever) +3 Ideal: Nature Awaits My Discovery Jupiter (flashy) +0 Petitio Videtur: One Day I Will Be Free Mars (forceful) +1 Virtus: A Beautiful Mind Mercury (quick) +2 Pluto (sneaky) +1
Background: Fidelis was named by his master, upon his birth to slaves in the house of Titus Sestius Robustus. As the boy grew into an able-bodied and trustworthy house servant, it was seen that he had been named aptly. Upon reaching his teenage years, the honest lad was trusted with the job of courier, running errands for his family to the other patricians, and for his efficiency and stamina he was even granted the nickname of Cursor. At the same time, he caught the attention of the family tutors with his keen discourse. It pleased Titus Sestius to allow him to be trained in mathematics and natural philosophy, for which he displayed an aptitude, in the hopes that his abilities would be an asset for the family. But in his heart, Fidelis Cursor longed to be the master of his own voyage of discovery into the fascinating world around him. So when he was approached by the Sinistram with the opportunity to solve problems outside of his normal duties, he jumped at the chance.
Stunts Magiverus +2 to Create an Advantage with Minerva when assembling something useful on the fly from random parts. Teacher's Pet Gets a free invoke on an aspect created by any character with a synonym for "Teacher" or "Scholar" in their high concept. Name of stunt 3 description of stunt 3
Stress: [] [] []
Consequences:
(2, Mild) { }
(4, Moderate) { }
(6, Severe) { }
Fate Points (Refresh): 2 (3)

[Dworin]

Orpheus, lead us into Hades Vibius Ignius Phrynnis Abactemus Vibius turns to Gaius Taurillus. The anger on his face can not hide the pleasure he has at being at the centre of attention. He surreptitiously clears his throat, then tests his voice against the acoustics of the low wall around Dianthe's domus and the wall of the insula opposite. Shifting his position so that the echo from across the street enhances his voice, he beckons his followers. They form an audience, deftly blocking all exits --- the master does not like his audience to leave. With the cithara hanging limply by his side, for, acoustics or not, he will not so far lower himself as to play in the street, he waits for everyone to hang on his lips and be silent. At least, a close enough semblance for him to ignore what displeases him. Then he intones in a truly resonant voice, as if reading a declamation: Ah me! How purblind you are, you old-timer from the days of One of the titans, father of ZeusCronus! Did you not see that she was the one man-handling me? He stops to theatrically rub his wrist. I shall be afflicted by a soreness tonight. Nevertheless, for my followers it is better to be here with me than to be home with a grey-bearded tutor and I will clearly prove it to you. Those learning from Apollo himself, do not they learn from a young God? And can they do better than listen to his example? Shall I be forced then to be a listener to your rebukes? Shall I not get any word in? I am no longer a schoolboy with his hand under a cane, to be bored with interminable tales of referring to Greek tragediesTelephus and Orestes, reading from the front and the back of the scrolls and not forgetting the scribbles in the margin. O, I know whose souls One of the judges in HadesAeacus has on his rack and what Iasonhero returns once again with that eternal golden fleece; I know it better than you know this domus where you have been dulling a young mind, no doubt; better than you know any other domus, including your own. O, I --- I have In Juvenal's time, this would have been an essay task for school boys. Since our game is set at around the time of this retirement, Vibius is implying that he actually wrote the advice.advised Sulla to retire from public life and spend his days listening to my Cithara and so, if you wish to hear me, get yourself an invitation to his halls if you think you're so important. When the master is silent, Ignaea picks up her lyre and gives Levian a dark, cold stare before the starts strumming a few sad, minor cords. Her young voice, raw from emotion, makes a vulnerable and brittle impression in contrast with the reverberant sounds of Vibius. If there is any pleasure in remembering past good deeds for a girl, who believes she has done her duty, and has not violated the sacred trust placed in her, nor ever sought to deceive gods or him, then many joys remain for you in your long life, Ignaea, prepared from this thankless love. For all things that a girl can say or for another do these have been done and said by you, and taken by his cold, ungrateful mind. So why do you keep torturing yourself? If even the gods look away, be firm and just make an end to it. It is difficult to suddenly put away a long love It is difficult, but it must be done: it is the one salvation, to be won by you. Oh, to do this, whether you can or can not. Oh gods, if you ever feel pity, or if ever you have saved someone in the nick of time, even in death Look upon pathetic me! And, if you find me worthy, relieve me from the pestilence and ruin, that chill my inner most self and take away all happiness from my heart. Now I do not seek, that he loves me in return or, (that which is not possible), that he chooses to be chaste I wish myself to be well, and to put down this foul disease Oh Gods! grant me this in return for my piety. As the last cord from her lyre dies away, a deep silence settles over the audience; the purity of her emotions had found a direct way into many hearts. All the more grating now the voice of the scraggy man sounds, breaking the spell as he whines, Now will you put me down, you brute. and, over Levian's head to the audience, of which he now has full attention, Wine-stained lips? These? Indeed those looking at him can barely make out the lips in his pale face. Do I look like I am master of a villa like this? Me? A petty money lender, forever watching over my shoulder for fear some well-fed man thinks it easier to knock me down than to repay his loan? Oh, she knows these men, he continues, pointing at Dianthe as he does so, just as she knows their domus. Just look at her, can't you see her for what she is? She has no man, no master. She spends the night where she gets paid! His pale face gets a pinkish tone as he works himself up to this last statement.

 

Vibius defends himself from Gaius attack and counters with a quick insult.

Dice attack with mercury:

4df+3

(1, 0, 0, -1)+3

Total = 3

Ignaea is making a feeble attempt at swaying Levian, which I think is using Juno in which she has no skill.

Dice attack with Juno:

4df

0, -1, -1, 1

Total = -1

Abactemus makes a nasty attack on Dianthe, trying to epxose what was hidden about her, which I think is Pluto. He uses his slanderer stunt and I pay a fate point to invoke Dianthe's Hetaira aspect, so it's +6 with weapon:2 which means another +2 provided the attack is successful.

Dice attack with Pluto:

4df+6

(-1, -1, 0, -1)+6

Total = 3

That's an amazingly poor roll and I use the free invoke on his aspect to roll again:

Dice roroll attack with Pluto:

4df+6

(-1, 1, 1, 1)+6

Total = 8

The fans have been busy (forcibly) goading the audience/by-standers in front of the gate, which is a create an advantage with Mars on the existing aspect All exits are blocked (which came into being due to the self-compel of Fidelis):

Dice Roll:

4df+2

(0, 1, 0, -1)+2

Total = 2

This seems to succeed but it is opposed by Levian, successfully, and so the invoke goes to the PC side.

I have removed one stress box from Abactemus, I think three is too much for what he is. I also added a fp cost to Vibius' stunt.

Situation Situation aspects: A Curious Crowd; Everyone knows I'm a citizen[Abactemus]; Iron Grip[Levian]; A drunkard's words are hollow words[Dianthe]; All exits are blocked[Levian] Opponents: Abactemus High Aspect: Fence Trouble: I would sell my mother for the right price. Pluto: +4 Mercury, Juno: +3 Stunts: Slanderer: When I insult someone in front of others, I get weapon:2 (attack with Pluto) [ ][ ] (no consequences) Objective in scene: Does not want to enter Dianthe's domus. Vibius Ignius Phrynnis High Aspect: Cithara master Trouble: I am a prima donna. Jupiter: +4 Juno, Mercury: +3 stunts: The world revolves around me: When someone else is attacked, I can pay a fate point to attract the attack to myself with a strum on my cithara. Put a spell on you, baby: When I play a flashy song, I can spend a fate point to make it affect everyone (attack with Jupiter). I'm above your judgement: Once per session in a non-physical conflict, I can spend a fate point to clear out my stress boxes. [ ][ ][x] minor consequence: () minor consequence: () Objective in scene: makes these wretches understand he is not to be trifled with. Ignaea Minerva: +2 Objective in scene: revenge [ ] Four screaming fans (2 with Mars +1, 2 with Jupiter +1) As a mob: Mars +2, Jupiter +2. [ ] ; [ ] ; [ ] ; [ ] Objective in scene: whatever Vibius does works for us Game master fate points: (4) 3

[Noquarter19]

Gaius Taurillus Gaius Taurillus The impertinence of the minstrel nearly causes Gaius to recoil physically, and for a moment he is forced to rethink his strategy. Rather than buckle under to the magister’s rebuke, the bard instead drew the crowd toward him before openly mocking the elder to the delight of the four youngsters who steadfastly refused to leave his side. Gaius I’m looking to Create an Aspect directed at the crowd, and I’d like to use Gaius’s Attention to Detail stunt to give myself a boost. At the moment, Gaius isn’t quite sure what is going on, why a group of seemingly unrelated people appear to be dragging an unwilling man into her home – but he's assessing the situation and realizing that the only way he’ll find an answer is if they’re able to make it home. In order to do that, however, they need this crowd to move, and the only way to do that is to get them to disperse. And how best to do that? By turning them against Vibius. So yeah, that’s my backdoor logic into making this fithesitated, his blue eyes looking from figure to figure, trying to puzzle out just what was going on here. The bard was a distraction – or, more accurately, both bards were. The real story was the strange quartet trying to get through the unyielding crowd. At some point here, the shouting man, the so-called drunk, was going to get enough attention directed to himself to bring about the attention of one of the Vigiles Urbani – and then there would be real problems. Gaius walked toward the edge of the crowd, near to where Vibius had planted himself, the center of attention, the most special flower in a field of common grass. He put a hand over his heart, his tone growing somber. ”Woe to the Republic, for we have truly fallen into ruin as a society if we now place men such as this unto a pillar of reverence. You claim to be a learned man, yet you have learned nothing of decency! You claim to know the elderly Sulla with one breath, yet disparage a harmless old magister with the other. You mock an elder as though he were some feeble thing to be disregarded, and worse! Nay, do not try to curry favor from your would be audience by claiming to have been wounded, for your injury is a falsehood. I may be old, but my eyes are sharp, young man. Even from a distance I could see how your delicate fingers clutched at that young woman’s arm as you dragged her across the thoroughfare. What kind of a man are you, that you feel the need to lay a hand on a woman for the ‘crime’ of seeking out your tutelage? This is probably going to be another attack against Vibius, but I’m ultimately looking to create an advantage by Creating an Aspect – specifically making the Curious Crowd into a Disgusted Crowd . It feels more Careful than Flashy – he’s not trying to put on a play, he’s just trying to get people to recognize what a scumbag Vibius is. I will spend a fate point as well. (EDIT: re-reading a bit, getting the crowd to disperse seems like it would be working against what Fidelis was trying to do with Ignaea. So my new thought is that the crowd becomes disgusted, and that would make them immune to Vibius’s music and nullifying his Put a spell on you, baby stunt. So if I’m understanding it right, and if Juno is considered appropriate, it would be my roll +2 from Careful, +2 from his stunt for Analyzing the Situation, and +2 from invoking the aspect of Curious Crowd – does that all track? Good people of Rome, do not give this man another moment of your time He is not worth your valuable attention, for it is clear that he cares more about inflating his own ego than spreading the gift of music to the people of Rome. Well, I say, if his music is only for used to pander to his betters in the highest echelon of Roman politics, then we the good people of Rome would do well to find our comforts in that of a real musician, one who respects her art and lets it be free like a bird, not caged like some golden goose away from the rest of the world.”   Actions: Attack vs Vibius with Juno Dice Roll: 4df+2 (1, 1, -1, 1)+2 Total = 4 Carefully (+2) Creating Advantage using Attention to Detail stunt (+2) and spending a Fate point to invoke Curious Crowd (+2). Dice Roll: 4df+6sch3 (1, 0, 0, 1)+6 ✔ Total = 8 Eagle Character Sheet Gaius Erucius Taurillus Aspects Approaches High Concept: Impatient elder scholar Minerva (clever) +3 Trouble: Problem With Authority Juno (careful) +2 Ideal: Logic Over Feelings Pluto (sneaky) +2 Petitio Videtur: Restore the Honor of My Father Mars (forceful) +1 Virtus: Mind Like a Steel Trap Mercury (quick) +1 Jupiter (flashy) +0 Stunts Attention to Detail Because I let myself analyze the whole scene before jumping to conclusions, I get a +2 when Carefully analyzing a crime sceneDescription You Would Not Part An Old Man From His Walking Stick Because I am older and do not appear threatening, I get a +2 when I Sneakily attack with my walking stickDescription Time to Teach You a Lesson Because I have been a magister for a great while, I can give another player a +2 to Cleverly work out something related to the caseDescription Stress: [] [] [] Consequences: (2, Mild) { } (4, Moderate) { } (6, Severe) { } Fate Points (Refresh): 1 (3) Background:   Forty years is a long time to hold onto hate. It ages you. It seeps into your bones and turns them arthritic, bleeds into the hair and turns it grey and then white, prematurely. Hate has other dark sides to it as well. It often leads to drink. It robs you of the best years of your life as you sit there and decay. Hate is a powerful salt that denatures you moment by moment, until a life that was once fresh and vibrant turns acerbic. But that is forty years in the future. Right now, you are a young man, barely into your teens. You live a life of privilege, the son of a Roman senator, a clever young man with a promising future, the son of an honorable man, a righteous man who does his best to do right by the Republic and the people contained within. Of course, as with any offspring who has not had to work hard to earn his bread, some level of presumptuousness and arrogance is not unexpected, but at least these are of lesser measure than in many other households throughout Rome, households where the children have learned nothing of discipline or hard work, where they have spoiled from the inside like an abscessed tooth. There will always be some measure of entitlement entrenched into such children, but you have not spoiled. You have been taught to appreciate work, to understand that, while your might be better off than a common galley slave, you are still a human being – and circumstances could just as easily have been reversed. You learned, in essence, to draw your own water from the well. The villa is quiet now. Father is away, attending another grueling meeting with the other senators at the Curia Hostilia. You are worried for him, but not overly so. There is much talk of anger and fear in Rome. It is said that Lucius Cornelius Sulla Felix – Sulla, to his men – is soon to wrap up his campaign against Mithridates and his armies in the east, and that his navy now surpasses a thousand ships. There is fear, because it was only a few short years ago Sulla had marched on Rome itself, and there is no telling what he will do now, or how strong his lust for power might be. Father had been appalled at the general then, and had not been quiet about it, much to the woe of his wife, Claudia. You turn your head, listening. Mother is still asleep in the main solar, but you cannot sleep. Not even your studies seem enough to distract you. It is dusk, so you take an oil lantern and step outside to stretch your legs, hoping the fresh air might put your soul at peace. The air is calm, and the branches of the Mediterranean cypress trees lining the avenue sway only a little. You take a deep breath, enjoying this quiet, calm moment, unaware that it is the last time you will know peace in your life. And then the muted clopping of hoofbeats breaks into your consciousness. You peer down the avenue, holding the oil lantern up as your eyes try to penetrate the darkness. A brief flutter of fear crosses your heart like a cloud crossing the sun, and then it is gone. Just a rider, you think, surely nothing to worry about. Your grip on the lantern grows tighter as you wait for the messenger to approach. A moment later, the figure reins up, stopping the horse less than ten feet from where you stand statuesque, your legs gone leaden. ”On behalf of the senate of Rome, I seek the wife of Laertus Tullius. I have a message concerning her husband.” You gulp down your fear, heavy and dense like a stone, and try to stand as tall as your thin, teenage body will allow. Although it is summer, the night suddenly feels chill, and you pull your tunic a little tighter. ”My mother sleeps within. I am the son of Laertus Tullius. Whatever message you have to pass along you may pass to me.” Your words sound firm, but that small tremor of fear is vibrating within you like a lyre string. The messenger peers down at you from atop his horse; his expression is flat. ”Very well. Your father has been arrested for treason. He has been imprisoned in the Tullianum, there to await sentencing for his crimes.” The impact of the messenger’s words hit you like a hammer to the chest, and you are finding it hard to breathe. ”What-?” you stammer out, but it sounds more like a soft exhalation, and it goes unheard. The oil lamp trembles in your hand. The messenger continues as though you had not spoken. ”You and your mother may, of course, make an appeal in the morning to the senate itself,…” He trails off, the rest of the statement going unsaid, yet still crystal clear in meaning: ’not that it will do much good.’ By this point you have started to breathe again. You’re still stunned, but the earth beneath your feet seems to have stopped spinning. ”Sir, I do not understand – what is it my father is supposed to have done? He has always served the republic in good stead, I cannot believe-“ ”I am just the messenger, young man. If you have questions, you may ask them at the appeal in the morning. I bid you good evening.” And with that, the messenger gathers up his reins and turns the horse about before cantering back down the gravel avenue and disappearing into the darkness like a wraith, leaving you alone in front of the villa that had been a bastion of peace for the first fourteen years of your life. Unable to help yourself, you turn and vomit into the bushes. Your dinner of fish, bread, and wine comes back up and leaves you retching, your mouth foul. The clay oil lamp lies shattered on the ground where it had tumbled from your grasp. You take a few moments to wipe your mouth and compose yourself, and then you turn and enter the villa and creep into your mother’s solar to wake her. There was never to be an appeal. By the time you and your mother had reached the meeting house that next morning, your father had been slain in his cell, murdered by a cutthroat who had gotten hold of a thin strip of metal which had been ground into a blade – or at least, that was the official story you were told. There was no appeal, nor even an explanation as to what your father was supposed to have done to merit his arrest. All that remained were questions, endless questions with no answers. You pondered whether this had been an isolated incident, a one-and-done, an incident that ended with your father’s demise… or were the conspirators going to see the entire Tullius family destroyed. The truth was that it already had been, even if you and your mother still breathed. Her grief was immense; it burned hot and bright and fast like a bonfire, and in the end, there was just a black smudge where her spirit had once existed. She remained a recluse and never left the villa until her passing seven years later, when you carried her broken, emaciated husk off to be cremated. Meanwhile, your grief and your anger were like two smoldering flames that burned low and slow, sometimes flaring up bright orange and other times seeming to disappear amongst the ashes. You buried yourself in study as a means of distracting your mind. You became a magister, and for the next three decades you taught the youths of wealthy Roman families the fundamentals of reading, writing, and mathematics. But you were an oddity. Whereas many other magisters of the time taught by rote and ruled over their pupils like a dictator, you were an aberration. You taught not just what the answer was, but why it was. You taught them to think for themselves, and you subtly instilled in them a proclivity for questioning authority. ”How do you know I am right?” you often asked your pupils, much to their puzzlement. ”Just because I say a thing is true, does that make it so? If you cannot think for yourself and use your own judgement, you will fall prey to the machinations of others. They will lead you like a bull led by the nose ring if you let them. Without the ability to think for yourself, you will never be your own person; you will simply become whatever they want you to be.” You found a great joy in gently subverting the status quo, because it at least gave you hope for a better tomorrow, with a more learned populus. Still, the true nature of your father’s death lingered like a canker, and in the quiet solitude of night, you found little peace. It seemed like you would spend the rest of your days wondering, always wondering. And outside, the a crackle of thunder booms as the first few raindrops begin to fall.   It had been raining for three straight days. The air inside the decaying villa of Gaius Taurillus was humid and uncomfortable, even as the hour approached ten in the evening. The streets were muddy and rutted, and only a fool would be out so late with such inclement weather. It was therefore a complete surprise when he was awakened by a sudden rapping on his front door. The scholar started, upsetting the silver goblet, and spilling the last few drops of wine onto the wooden table that had served to prop up his head. The silver had long since tarnished, a symbol of his family’s success, now gone to seed, and he cursed aloud in the quiet gloom of his solar. ”Gods be praised, but who calls at this hour? If you are a solicitor, I shall-“ he growled, stumbling in the darkness as he fumbled about for a stub of candle. In a few moments there was a thin flickering light to see by, and the middle-aged magister eventually found his way to the foyer, while only barking his shin once during the trek. A growling curse spilled out from a face thick with grey beard, and he had to shut his eyes momentarily against the pain. He touched the stub of candle to a pair of tapers set into bronze sconces, and then lifted the thick latch that had secured the door. He then reached for the long pole that served as a walking stick and pushed the door open. ”Who calls?” he barked, his eyes peering into the rain-filled night. His right hand held the walking stick at his side – not brandishing it, but displaying it prominently for the untimely visitor. The figure turned in the dim light. Hidden by a rain-spattered cloak, they were leaning against a stone pillar that supported the weathered portico. ”Speak quickly, for you’ve disturbed my rest and-“ ”Might I come in?” came a smooth voice. A thin hand threw back the hood, revealing a plain face, male, balding on top with short-cropped hair gone silver at the temples. ”The gods have seen fit to send us another flood, or at least so it seems. I was hard pressed to find your villa in the gloom.” ”Perhaps you should have called at more opportune time – in the daylight, for instance. Or not at all.” Gaius had made no move to allow the man entry, while his fingers gripped the stick a little tighter. ”Perhaps,” the visitor acquiesced, ”but then that would have rather defeated the purpose of traveling covertly, would it not?” He eyed the walking stick with a smirk then shifted his position slightly. Gaius peered past him. The figure was holding a hooded oil lantern, and in the dim edge of the lantern’s light he could just make out the muted reflection of bronze scales. A Legionnaire. The grip on his walking stick loosened slightly. ”What do you want?” he said again, unable to fully hide the trace of defeat in his tone. ”I’ve nothing here that would be of any interest to one so as important as to travel under guard. Unless-“ He held the candle up so he might see better. The figure had the oil lantern in his left hand, and as Gaius looked closer, he could see the unmistakable gleam of a gold band on the man’s small finger. He cursed silently in his head. ”What could a Senator possibly want with a tired old magister at this time of night? Perhaps some sort of tutoring emergency?” The scorn in his voice was unmistakable. The senator chuckled. ”I see the tales of your keen eye were not unfounded. Nor the tales of your bristly demeanor. I am Lucius Naevius Iovianus, and I would exchange words with you inside, if you please-“ ”I do not,” Gaius said. ”State your business and begone.” For the first time, a ripple of anger fluttered over the senator’s face. ”You would do well to respect your betters, magister, especially if you ever want to know the truth about your father.” Behind him, the legionnaire shifted, the clink of scale mail suddenly loud against the backdrop of rain. Gaius swallowed once, but remained firm. [b]”My father is dead and gone. I’ll not dig up his bones all over again, and certainly not at the whims of some senator who, for all I know had a hand in his imprisonment. Now begone with you!”[b] He was losing his temper - more than that, he was rattled. He reached to push the door closed. ”Oh, I had no part in your father’s arrest – though I did know him, albeit briefly. I am quite serious, sir. I know the years have chafed, the fall of the noble Taurillus family has weighed heavy. And I know many people… many things about those people. Things thought buried. Things… which might come to light once more. Ah, but I am wasting your time. Guard! We are done here. The noble magister has chosen to resume the downward slope of his life, and we shall leave him to it. Gaius, I wish you well. Good eve-“ ”Wait.” The voice had lost some of its vinegar. ”You- you speak truly? You actually knew Laertus Tullius?” The grin resurfaced on the face of the senator, who by this point had turned and replaced his hood. ”Aye, I did, for a short while. And I know many of the men who served the people of Rome alongside him. And you might have opportunity to know more about those men – if you are willing to let me in, of course.” Gaius didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. The droop of his chin said it for him. He let go of the door, which slowly began to creak open. As the magister stepped numbly to the side, the senator and his guard entered. Gaius peered out into the night, staring into the darkness as the rain continued to fall, before slowly closing the door.[/   Gaius and Dianthe: Gaius was commissioned to instruct Dianthe’s son, a young man who has impressed him with his outspokenness and . The boy speaks often of learning from his mother. Thinking about this later, Gaius recalls that their earlier interaction was very brief. It one of the few times he can recall instructing the child of a single parent, and even rarer for that child to be of such fine character. His curiosity gets the better of him, and so one day he goes to call on Dianthe to discuss how well her son has taken to the language portion of his teachings (mathematics is another matter), but mostly to sate his curiosity. Gaius and Fidelis: Gaius could count on one hand how many times he has heard of a slave receiving an education from their master – and he would still have four fingers left over. The two crossed paths several years ago when the magister who normally instructed Fidelis fell ill for an extended period, and Gaius was recommended as a temporary substitute. The instructor was flabbergasted to find that Fidelis was not an empty-headed vessel of a vassal, but instead took to the lessons quickly. While their time together was brief, Gaius would not soon forget meeting the young man. Gaius and Levian: Theirs was an unusual crossing of paths, though the end result was much the same. While shopping in the forum one evening after a session, Gaius happened upon a young man furtively attempting to read a bit of parchment when he thought nobody was looking. Gaius watched the figure from about twenty feet away as he stared at the scrap of message before turning it upside down, hoping that would work. After about three minutes of watching this, Gaius took pity on the young man and quietly walked over to offer his assistance. It turned out that the young man was a spy for another man, one Levian Osmanthus. After being taken to meet with Levian, Gaius offered to act as a consultant to the spymaster, more out of curiosity than anything else, and has worked in a limited capacity for his organization for the last several months.

[Elanir]

Dianthe the Hetaira Dianthe the Hetaira The truth hurts Dianthe like a slap across the face, leaving her cheeks red and her heart aching. She looks at Abactemus defiantly. She will get that man inside her domus and pry the truth out of his lips even if it costs her, even if it leaves her bloody and bruised. She lowers her head to compose herself, only to proudly raise it again a moment later. Her eyes are hard and reflect the ugliness of Abactemus’ face and soul. "My father always said that what happens inside one’s household should stay there and he was right. But such dignity is unknown to you, husband, and I find myself forced to reveal a truth I am not proud of. So listen up, good people of Rome, for I will speak of things I never have before." Turning her back to Abactemus in contempt, she addresses the curious citizens with enough time and resources to stand and gawk at what should be happening behind closed doors. "All of you can see that I wasn’t born in this city", she admits as she reveals her face for all to see, a face that seems youthful and desirable, especially because of the fire in the woman’s eyes and upon her ruby lips. "And yet even as a girl I could hear Rome’s song, calling me to her embrace. Not even my dear parents’ tears were able to keep me from abandoning my father’s villa, along with the fields of olive trees, the vineyards and the herds of grazing sheep and goats. I turned my eyes towards Rome, my true mistress, and opened my heart to her." The hetaira closes her eyes and inhales deeply. When she opens them again, she seems frail, possibly sick, as if the memory of what happened next still plagues her heart and mind. "But the gods had other things in store for me, a girl from the eastern provinces, young and impressionable. I met this man right here, whose poison is worse than that of the lernean hydra. He proposed a bargain. He would marry me, so that I too could become a true daughter of Rome, and in return he would get a dowry large enough to satisfy even the most demanding patrician." Turning around, Dianthe points an accusing finger at Abactemus. "His clothes and manners are poor because the man is as base as the mud on the Tiber’s bank, but make no mistake. He has enough silver to lend it to those unfortunate enough to put their faith in him and spend it heedlessly at every single watering hole of this city." The hetaira’s hand starts trembling and she lowers her head to hide the tears in her eyes. "But he is still my husband and I owe it to the gods and the city’s founding fathers to honor and respect him." Slowly approaching Abactemus, she tenderly places her arms around his struggling body. "Come, husband, let us not make a spectacle of ourselves any longer. Let us seek the privacy of our home and solve our differences there." "Stop protesting and I will make it worth your while", she whispers in his ear, softly enough for only him and Levian to hear. "All I want is the truth about the daggerpugio and the man who wielded it last. It doesn’t take a wise man to choose moneysilver over she means Levian and the nasty things he can do to himiron. Making the right decision shouldn’t be all that hard."

 

Dianthe defends herself with Jupiter, also using her free invoke of “A drunkard’s words are hollow words”.

Dice Roll:

4df+5

(-1, 0, -1, 0)+5

Total = 3

Then she attacks with Jupiter (overcome), making use of her stunt “Croesus’ wealth”.

Dice Roll:

4df+5

(-1, 1, -1, 0)+5

Total = 4

I will use a Fate point to reroll Dianthe’s defense.

Dice Roll:

4df+5

(-1, 1, 0, 1)+5

Total = 6

And check her second stress box. I really hope I haven’t missed something.

Edit: Using another Fate point to invoke Abactemus’ “I would sell my mother for the right price” Trouble as per GM suggestion. (Thanks, Dworin!)

 

Dianthe the Hetaira
Aspects Approaches High Concept: Sophisticated Seductress Foreignerfrom Ephesus Juno (careful) +1 Trouble: All Women are Jealous of My Fame Minerva (clever) +2 Ideal: Law is only as Mighty as the Magister who Enforces it Jupiter (flashy) +3 Petitio Videtur: A Child needs a Name, not a Father Mars (forceful) +0 Virtus: Whether by Wit or Wile, no Man can Resist Me Mercury (quick) +1 Pluto (sneaky) +2
Background: Originally from Ephesus in the province of Asia, Dianthe was tricked and humiliated by the governor of the province, Quintus Minucius Thermus. Abandoned with a child without a father, instead of returning to her family in shame, she joined the Hetairae. Mastering their skills and excelling at their “art”, Dianthe relocated to Rome, where she made a name for herself. In order to force her husband to recognize her son as his legitimate child, she joined the Eagles, pledging her allegiance to Coppers.
Stunts Croesus’ Wealth Because I am fabulously wealthy, I get a +2 to flashily overcome someone’s reluctance when I try to bribe someone to do something I want them to. A Crocodile’s Tears Because I am an excellent actress, I get a +2 to sneakily create an advantage when I try to make someone take pity on me. To See is to Know Because I am very perceptive, I get a +2 to carefully create an advantage when I take the time to study a person.
Stress: [] [X] []
Consequences:
(2, Mild) { }
(4, Moderate) { }
(6, Severe) { }
Fate Points (Refresh): 1 (3)

[Yoshimi]

Fidelis Cursor If there is one thing that draws Fidelis more than a pretty face, it is the chance to impress a teacher. The youth turns to watch Gaius in action as the old scholar takes Vibius the Master apart and reassembles him as Vibius the Dog right before the very eyes of the crowd. He takes a few slow steps toward Gaius as the man speaks, nodding at each point and murmuring along. "Nothing of decency!" "What kind of man indeed?" "Music's got to fly!" By the end of the learned sage's tirade, Fidelis is at his elbow, fairly quivering with eagerness to impress him. He cries, "All heed the words of Magister Gaius Erucius Taurillus!" Fidelis turns to address the crowd, waving both arms to egg them into a chant. "Give us our songbird! Teach the girl!" He grins hopefully at Gaius but just as quickly turns to stare pointedly at Vibius, continuing his chant. "Teach the songbird! Teach the songbird!" Maybe it is the expression or stance of Vibius, but Fidelis feels in his bones that his approach is falling short. As panic starts to grip him that he will fail in front of the learned Gaius, he notes with wonder the same butterfly species from river bank flutter past his eyes. He says absently, "Beautful." Then he snaps his fingers, as inspiration strikes. He murmurs, "An appeal to vanity." Now to impress Gaius by demonstrating a diversity of tactics, and to at the same time gain favor with the fair woman! Fidelis leans closer to Vibius and says just loud enough for his voice to carry above the crowd, "I do know of you, Master Vibius, for I serve the gens Sestia and your name is spoken with great praise in highborn circles. Only one cithara master alive could foster talent of such magnitude as this woman possesses. Vibius Ignius Phrynnis!" He lets the volume of his voice rise further, contrasting the crowd's jeering with his own cry of "Vibius Phrynnis! Vibius Phrynnis!"

 

Dice Attack Vibius with Juno:

4df+2

(-1, -1, 1, 0)+2

Total = 1

Use "Teacher's Pet" stunt for a free invoke of "A Crowd Disgusted with Vibius" for +2, to make the result 3

Spend a Fate Point to Invoke Vibius' high aspect for +2, bringing the result to 5

 

Fidelis Cursor
Aspects Approaches High Concept: Prodigy Serving as a Courier for the Gens Sestia Juno (careful) +2 Trouble: My Time Belongs to My Master Minerva (clever) +3 Ideal: Nature Awaits My Discovery Jupiter (flashy) +0 Petitio Videtur: One Day I Will Be Free Mars (forceful) +1 Virtus: A Beautiful Mind Mercury (quick) +2 Pluto (sneaky) +1
Background: Fidelis was named by his master, upon his birth to slaves in the house of Titus Sestius Robustus. As the boy grew into an able-bodied and trustworthy house servant, it was seen that he had been named aptly. Upon reaching his teenage years, the honest lad was trusted with the job of courier, running errands for his family to the other patricians, and for his efficiency and stamina he was even granted the nickname of Cursor. At the same time, he caught the attention of the family tutors with his keen discourse. It pleased Titus Sestius to allow him to be trained in mathematics and natural philosophy, for which he displayed an aptitude, in the hopes that his abilities would be an asset for the family. But in his heart, Fidelis Cursor longed to be the master of his own voyage of discovery into the fascinating world around him. So when he was approached by the Sinistram with the opportunity to solve problems outside of his normal duties, he jumped at the chance.
Stunts Magiverus +2 to Create an Advantage with Minerva when assembling something useful on the fly from random parts. Teacher's Pet Gets a free invoke on an aspect created by any character with a synonym for "Teacher" or "Scholar" in their high concept. Name of stunt 3 description of stunt 3
Stress: [] [] []
Consequences:
(2, Mild) { }
(4, Moderate) { }
(6, Severe) { }
Fate Points (Refresh): 2 (3)

[squirmonkey]

Levian Levian Osmanthus Levian has little patience for this singing and shouting and arguing. He certainly has no patience for Ignaea's pathetic begging. Whatever she may be feeling, he knows that he has been nothing but fair to her. She did not have the fortitude for the work He keeps alert, watching for an opportunity to continue moving himself and his quarry out of the situation. The crowd's rapt attention on the singing makes it difficult to move past them without drawing undue attention. It is only after Dianthe's whisper to Abactemus that the moment comes. Fidelis' chanting makes the crowd move and shift along with him, enough movement for Levian to start moving. He and Abactemus slide between the assembled onlookers, as he tries to put civilian bodies between himself and Ignaea and Vibius. A few more moments, and he hopes to have disappeared entirely within the assembled crowd, free and clear to approach the gate. OOC Actions Okay, I'm spending a Fate Point to Confront the followers so they fail their CAA, and the aspect All Exits Are Blocked becomes Listeners in Front of the Gate as discussed. Then I use that aspect and my free invoke on it to try to disappear into/past the listeners. I'm assuming this is an Overcome, since I don't think I'm attacking anybody. I'm using Pluto Dice Overcome with Pluto + Free Invoke: 4df+3 (0, 1, -1, 0)+3 Total = 3 Sorry for the slow post! Things got unexpectedly weird this week.   Levian Osmanthus Aspects Approaches High Concept: Fanatical Ex-Legionary Juno (careful) +3 Trouble: Cold-Hearted Bastard Minerva (clever) +2 Ideal: Humans are as Gears to Rome's Great Machine Jupiter (flashy) +1 Petitio Videtur: Only I Can Save the Republic Mars (forceful) +2 Virtus: The Stones and Bricks are my Eyes and Ears Mercury (quick) +0 Pluto (sneaky) +1 Stunts True Believer once per session I can persuade someone to do something that benefits the republic, even at their own expense Spies Everywhere once per session I can ask the GM a question about something that happened in the city, and receive a truthful answer. Served in the Legions +2 to Sneakily Overcome when I ask a soldier to bend the rules for me. Stress: [] [] [X] Consequences: (2, Mild) { } (4, Moderate) { } (6, Severe) { } Fate Points (Refresh): 2 (3)