TheAntiRebel
is still a threat
- Joined
- Sep 9, 2006
- Posts
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The Roman Empire has been at a constant state of war for many years. The Emperor was losing political power. One night, two foreigners manage to sneak past his guards and assassinate him. Rome is thrown into chaos as various political and military factions attempt to seize power. One man, General Marcus Tiberius, the youngest general in the history of the Empire, has his men 'capture' the Imperial Palace for the safety of the Imperial Family, and declares martial law on Rome, bringing the fighting to a standstill.
General Marcus Tiberius
Age 32
6'1", 185 pounds, Brown Hair, Brown Eyes, Muscular Build
It had been three says since the Emperor was assassinated, and for Marcus, they had turned out to be three very action filled days. About 12 hours into the first day, various small-time Senators and Generals realized that there was a power gap and it was theirs to take. Fighting had broken out across Rome, the greatest city in the known world. The Roman Forum, the seat of the Senate, had turned into a bloodbath as petty factions attempted to declare themselves the new rulers of Rome.
Marcus, and Legion XVI, the men under his command, had seized control of the Forum and declared martial law on Rome. His soldiers marched on the street and, through persistence, managed to subdue to the fighting for the time being. Bringing a ceasefire to the chaos had distracted Marcus from his real goal, which lay in the Imperial Palace.
Wearing his polished, gold-plated armor and a red cape, Marcus rode his white stallion to the Imperial Palace, where the front gates were surrounded by his men. They saluted him and opened the gates for him, and he rode up to the front doors of the massive palace where the late Emperor had called home.
The general had been escorted by two guards, plus Martin, a short boy of 17 that was a distant cousin of his. Martin had no mind for politics or war, but his mother's sister had dreamt that the boy would rise to greatness from a minor family of wealth like he had, so Martin served as his aide. As Marcus climbed off his horse, Martin approached, carrying two items, and handed them to the general. One was a paper scroll, and the other was a small bottle.
"Thank you, Martin. That will be all," Marcus told his aide.
"Yes, General," the boy said, before nodding.
"I am going to meet with the Emperor's daughter. Don't bother me unless it's that messenger from Legate Vitallion."
"Yes, General," the aide repeated himself.
With his two gifts under his shoulder, Marcus entered the Imperial Palace and headed up the stairs to the bedroom of the late Emperor's eldest unwed daughter. His longsword, hanging in its sheath, clanged against his gold plated armor as he climbed the marble steps. He arrived at her bed chamber and knocked on the doorway.
He almost blushed at her beauty. She was slender and athletic, the body of a goddess.
He dropped to one knee. "My lady, my apologies about the death of the Caesar, your father," he said before standing. He held the scroll and the bottle out to her. "Some small gifts for you. Some Greek poetry, by their scholar Homer. And some Chinese bath soaps, in the bottle. It cost a small fortune to import them from such a far away land."
General Marcus Tiberius
Age 32
6'1", 185 pounds, Brown Hair, Brown Eyes, Muscular Build
It had been three says since the Emperor was assassinated, and for Marcus, they had turned out to be three very action filled days. About 12 hours into the first day, various small-time Senators and Generals realized that there was a power gap and it was theirs to take. Fighting had broken out across Rome, the greatest city in the known world. The Roman Forum, the seat of the Senate, had turned into a bloodbath as petty factions attempted to declare themselves the new rulers of Rome.
Marcus, and Legion XVI, the men under his command, had seized control of the Forum and declared martial law on Rome. His soldiers marched on the street and, through persistence, managed to subdue to the fighting for the time being. Bringing a ceasefire to the chaos had distracted Marcus from his real goal, which lay in the Imperial Palace.
Wearing his polished, gold-plated armor and a red cape, Marcus rode his white stallion to the Imperial Palace, where the front gates were surrounded by his men. They saluted him and opened the gates for him, and he rode up to the front doors of the massive palace where the late Emperor had called home.
The general had been escorted by two guards, plus Martin, a short boy of 17 that was a distant cousin of his. Martin had no mind for politics or war, but his mother's sister had dreamt that the boy would rise to greatness from a minor family of wealth like he had, so Martin served as his aide. As Marcus climbed off his horse, Martin approached, carrying two items, and handed them to the general. One was a paper scroll, and the other was a small bottle.
"Thank you, Martin. That will be all," Marcus told his aide.
"Yes, General," the boy said, before nodding.
"I am going to meet with the Emperor's daughter. Don't bother me unless it's that messenger from Legate Vitallion."
"Yes, General," the aide repeated himself.
With his two gifts under his shoulder, Marcus entered the Imperial Palace and headed up the stairs to the bedroom of the late Emperor's eldest unwed daughter. His longsword, hanging in its sheath, clanged against his gold plated armor as he climbed the marble steps. He arrived at her bed chamber and knocked on the doorway.
He almost blushed at her beauty. She was slender and athletic, the body of a goddess.
He dropped to one knee. "My lady, my apologies about the death of the Caesar, your father," he said before standing. He held the scroll and the bottle out to her. "Some small gifts for you. Some Greek poetry, by their scholar Homer. And some Chinese bath soaps, in the bottle. It cost a small fortune to import them from such a far away land."