Face ClaimRami Malek
Artemon wasted no time in nodding his confirmation that he did indeed remember perfectly well, thank you very much. A defiant little voice inside his chest argued that now he too knew where Gallus lived, and he too would be watching! Mostly to make sure Gallus didn't come up with excuses to underpay him again. He didn't know where the witch lived, obviously; she might not even live at her master's. Maybe he should try to follow her one day...
Snapping back to attention, he grew paler as he realised that he had not locked the warehouse, and spluttered sheepishly to avoid giving a definite answer. He was so tired, and so hungry, and Rome was so dangerous in the dark! "Um... well.." he dawdled, ignoring the attempt at seduction he was witness to as he shuffled his feet. Ugh.
Just as he was about to give in, the idea of his future earnings giving him strength to brave the unpredictable and perilous darkness once again, he felt the familiar sting of a hair slap as the woman bid him good night. "I won't, rest assured!" Artemon declared, the door slamming in his face seconds later.
If those two were going to be busy for the next hour or so, they wouldn't come out to check that Artemon had indeed gone back to lock up. He could always claim he had done as told but shift the blame to the day shift and their carelessness. Pleased with his plan, he trotted up the stairs to his tiny flat, tiptoed his way in so as not to wake Iophon (if he even was there - in the dark it was hard to tell) and tucked himself in on his straw mattress, falling asleep to thoughts of future riches.
If Osiris decided to claim him now, Artemon would pass on a happy man. A compliment! It sounded even sweeter coming from his beloved's lips; it was something he would cherish for days to come and draw strength from it when Gallus got on his case again. "You are kindness embodied, domina," he retorted with a bright smile.
The moment the young woman spoke the magic words he sped off towards the baker's, procuring a bun in what was probably the fastest business transaction in his whole life. Within minutes he was back, presenting the bun to his nymph to examine before breaking it into two uneven halves as per her request and handing her the smallest one. Truth be told, Artemon was hoping they could have a nice sit-down chat over the bun, but he realised now it was nigh impossible. Her slaves would no doubt go snitching on them to her family, and might even forbid her from ever seeing him again! That was something to be avoided at all costs.
"Domina," he started between bites (the bun was juicy all right), "please forgive my curiosity, but I must say this. I am fascinated by your hair! Not even in Egypt have I seen anything like it!" Alexandria was almost as eclectic in population as Rome, with people coming in from all corners of the empire, and whilst he had seen people with yellow hair before, none had possessed such a fair shade. "Is it a wig or is it really yours?"
As clear as the waters of the Nile after the flood, which meant still a bit muddy. He could always hope Davus didn't ask too many questions, though, and run things past Iophon beforehand to get a better sense of how to tackle this future situation.
Gallus was kind enough to let him finish before speaking up, but as Artemon watched him pick up the dripping knife, a horrible sinking sensation took hold of his stomach. This witch was no good at predicting the future, else she would have known she had come to the insula to meet her end! "U-uhh..." he stammered, following the knife's trajectory with his eyes as he considered the options. Neither was good and both were lethal... He was spared from having to reply by Gallus seemingly growing tired of his indecision, and Artemon squeezed his eyes shut for an instant before morbid curiosity won out and he opened one of them to see... Gallus smooching the witch?!
Now he had definitely seen it all.
He opened and shut his mouth a few times in quick succession, uttering sounds of confusion until the words sunk in. So she hadn't been lying! But how could a slave be a boss? In any case, good thing he hadn't angered her too much, and he definitely shouldn't start now! Doing his best impression of a lost puppy, Artemon cast Zia a pleading look, almost ready to prostrate himself at her feet. Fortunately he didn't have to as she agreed to up his pay, and he nodded furiously at the conditions she set, making himself dizzy with the movement. "Yes! Understood! I won't let you down, you can count on me!" he exclaimed, forgetting that he was practically shouting in the hallway in the middle of the night.
This was the best day ever! Come his next wage, Artemon would treat himself and Iophon to a proper meal of bread, stew and beer to celebrate. Gaze jumping expectantly from Gallus to the witch, he decided to push his luck one more time. "Since I'm already here, may I consider my shift finished and go home to sleep?"
"Light, of course!" Artemon slapped his knee with great enthusiasm. This is why it was nice to have clever friends - they always remembered things he didn't. "We only have one window, but maybe it'll be enough." If the plant required many windows, that would be a problem: he couldn't ask Gallus to take care of him for it, he couldn't keep it in the warehouse... Maybe Alexius would be willing to keep it for him? Or - wait - maybe Davus could! Artemon smiled to himself, amazed by his own resourcefulness.
First, however, he had to find out if the plant really needed more light than their crude square cut into the wall could provide.
"Ah, that's nice! Not your master, I mean! It's not nice that I can't visit you!" he explained, the words tumbling out of him like dates from a dropped basket. "I meant that you get to come out often and that is nice!" Right? Or were slaves who stayed at home higher up in the ranks than those who were sent on errands? Hoping he didn't goof too badly (wouldn't be the first time anyway, and certainly not the last), Artemon attempted to come up with a schedule. "Sometimes I work nights and then I sleep during the day, so I think it'll be hard to meet on those days..."
Hmm, this was more difficult than it appeared. "Maybe we could meet here on the same day at the same time next week? If you're not busy, that is," he suggested, eyes glinting with the hopeful prospect of a new drinking buddy. "Or you can always come and see if I'm home, if your master doesn't mind. This is how you get there," with an extended finger Artemon drew a map on his palm, mentioning recognisable establishments as reference points. "My place is on the top floor right at the end of the corridor." How exciting to have a visitor! He would just have to sort out what to offer Davus, as it was rude to let your guests remain on an empty stomach. If both he and Iophon were skint the day of, maybe Alexius could spot him some bread and olives.
Third floor, huh? Greedy Gallus was raking in the sestertii and shafting Artemon at the same time! But oh no, things were going to change now! If Gallus got cheeky, Artemon would come down in the middle of the night and bang on the door (and then hide or beat a speedy retreat). He smiled victoriously; this knowledge changed everything. Finally they would be able to afford bread every day!
"Lu-to..?" he repeated, slightly puzzled by the name. It wasn't one he could recall having encountered before, but he supposed the boy was German since the witch was German too, and he didn't know a lot of Germans. He was starting to think they were scary people, and the fearsome look directed at him only cemented that opinion. "Um, no, not really," he confessed, already wincing in preparation for whatever punishment she would inflict on him. "If I ask my friend about the boy, I'll have to tell him why. He's really smart, so I can't just lie to him." Not to mention that one shouldn't lie to their friends!
Any possible clarification by the woman was interrupted by her coming to a halt in front of a door on the third floor and knocking just once. Was this some kind of code? Artemon squinted, deep in thought. He should learn this code and teach it to Iophon in case it was ever necessary. Gallus' familiar voice brought him back into the present, and Artemon straightened up, attempting to look all prim and proper. "I found this woman trespassing, but she said she's your boss? So we came to see you. We're neighbours, by the way!" he beamed, pointing at the ceiling with his index finger. "I live on the top floor."
Now, when would be a good time to bring up that pay raise? Well, here was one possible avenue he could try. Still grinning, Artemon went on. "And she said you need more people to work. In that case, since I've been a good employee for a while now, I would like to be rewarded with more coin!" There - professional and concise, just like Artemon.
What was it they needed to? Artemon never found out, as the second he opened his mouth a familiar hand rushed to cover it. He fought the impulse to bite it and let himself be yanked unceremoniously to the perceived safety of hiding behind a pile of crates. Crouching low on the ground, he peeled Iophon's hand away and let out a shaky breath, hoping the guard would not hear it. How loud was a breath, anyway?
The creak of a door opening broke the silence, followed by heavy footsteps as the guard entered the warehouse. Artemon didn't dare poke his head out to get a glimpse of the man and how dangerous he was likely to be based on size alone. If push came to shove they had the knife he had used to make the hole, but he would rather run and live to come back another night. He exchanged a nervous look with his brother as the guard bumbled round, his footsteps coming closer and then growing quieter as the man walked away. "Gotta find me a lamp," the man muttered before shutting the door behind him and exiting into the dark, presumably to perform his self-appointed task - one that only had been audible because the warehouse had been deathly silent.
Artemon sighed, shoulders slumping, and slowly stood up behind the crates, peeking out to check that the guard was indeed gone and not just fooling them. Satisfied that their momentary enemy hadn't been that smart, he turned to Iophon for guidance. "You were saying...?"
Artemon shot Iophon an offended glare, although the darkness took away much of its intended effect. "I didn't do it on purpose," he mumbled, lower lip protruding in a pout as he kept picking at the wood. What with the way Tyche had been blessing them tonight, surely the guard was at some distant point of his perimeter.
So it wasn't a spice. Bummer! He breathed in the musty air as if to make sure his brother was right, heaving a sigh at the confirmation. Well, there went his dreams of becoming a rich spice thief trader. "Yeah, it's a bit intense for perfume, isn't it?" And very in-your-face too, not discreet at all. Perhaps it could be marketed as a fragrance for sweaty sailors? It might just mask body odour very well... Already thinking of his contacts in Ostia, Artemon was pulled out of his musings by another wise suggestion by Iophon.
"Oh, that could be it! Maybe it's one of those shifty cults and that's why it's a secret!" Artemon's excitement meant he was unable to keep his voice down; all thoughts of the guard had vanished from his mind. As if on cue, the wood under his knife finally gave in and a small hole just wide enough to stick two fingers in was now carved into the crate. "Hah! I did it!" he raised a victorious fist and shoved his knife back into its hiding place. "All right, how do we get this out now?" They could flip the crate and gather whatever fell on the floor, but Iophon was clever, so maybe he had a better idea.
As Artemon stared at the hole, pondering how best to access its contents, a gruff and somewhat muffled voice could be heard from the outside."Oi! Anybody in there?!"
Hmm. Was it completely dried? That was the million sestertius question Artemon did not know the answer to; yet he felt encouraged by the other Egyptian's optimism. Okay, maybe it wasn't straight optimism, but it wasn't a resounding 'no way' or 'that's ridiculous' or '...what?', so he would take what he could get. "I think I'll give it a try! Plants just need water and soil, right? And a pot?" He chewed on his lower lip, wondering if he was forgetting something. Plants didn't eat, so it seemed like that was it.
"If I'm successful, Davus, I will tell you all about it!" Even if it took weeks or months. It was only fair that his new friend be updated on the quest he had helped embark on. "Oh, how rude of me! I am Artemon," he returned, silently relieved that he had not forgotten after all. His mother always told him his brain was like a sieve, and Artemon struggled to prove her wrong. If only she had been here to witness it! "I live in an insula on the Esquiline," he added, only remembering moments too late that Davus did not have the same freedom to come and go as he. Oops.
"Are you sent on errands often? Or could I visit you at your master's house?" It was the first time Artemon befriended a slave who did not work at a business, and he did not want to cause Davus trouble by doing something wrong.
"Oh. Right." Artemon stayed his hand as he felt Iophon touch his shoulder, conceding that, as usual, his brother made a good point. Or did he? "Can't rats climb, though?" he scrunched up his nose, tucking the knife back into his underwear before following Iophon down. The descent was almost concluded when his foot slipped and his little toe caught in the corner of a crate. A howl and a stream of invective, first in Egyptian and then again in Greek for good measure, left his mouth before he could stop himself, and when Artemon finally hit the floor it was with wounded pride and a very painful toe. When he had enough money, he would go to the shoemaker and demand a pair of closed shoes!
Once the pain had subsided enough, Artemon got to work, trying to hack away at the wood as quickly and silently as possible. "Can you smell it? What do you think it is?" he asked his twin, having noticed the scent seemed stronger down there than up by the window. "It's got to be medicine, right? It's too cloying for spices, don't you think?"
She was even more beautiful up close, if that was even possible. Artemon's body felt as light as Hermes' winged sandals, and he himself could have taken flight that very instant. His heart soared at the dulcet tones of her voice. This was his lucky day, the day his fortune changed and the gods smiled down at him. He just knew it.
His grin grew impossibly wider as the lady took his present, apparently pleased with it and entirely oblivious to her dwindling keenness. "Its beauty is nothing compared to yours, of course, but it crowns your hair like a kiss from Isis," Artemon said, watching as if transfixed as she pushed the flower into her elaborate hairstyle. He had scraped off the thorns, he thought - hopefully he hadn't missed any.
"But of course, domina! Anything to make you happy!" was his eager response, and Artemon almost took the young woman's hand in his before he remembered that such boldness would land him into trouble. "I shall come, rain or shine, to fulfil my vow to you!" First, however, he would have to check with Iophon or somebody equally wise just what flowers were in bloom that season. The neighbours downstairs sold fruit, maybe they knew a thing or two about flowers? Or the Dacian witch? No matter; he would find a way.
All he had to do was not mess this up. A difficult task and one he had never quite succeeded at, but Artemon was nothing if not persistent. "Domina, if you are not too busy, will you share with me the gift of your presence over a blackcurrant bun?" His eyes glinted with hope. The baker's stall was just across the street, so her attendants should be able to see that nothing improper would take place! Not that Artemon would even think of it, of course. He was a gallant, although often misunderstood, gentleman.
Topics I Participated In
Early July, 76 AD
It was a sweltering day in Rome like so many others, but the heat did not bother Artemon, who was used to Ra visiting worse punishment on him. It was also a very rare day off for him, and after sleeping in past lunchtime he felt very much ready to start his day - get dressed, eat, hit the thermae, steal a certain something from the nearest public garden and busy himself with people-watching.
In this case, however, there was one person Artemon was hoping to see, and even amidst the bustling crowd, his eyes found their intended target.
There she was! A nymph, the loveliest creature the gods had ever made. Nay, she was Ken herself come to Rome and walking among mortals, may his father forgive him for such blasphemous thoughts! From behind a marble column Artemon studied the young woman's activities. Such grace! Such beauty! And that hair, fairer than the emperor's togas and shining in the sun like a thousand aurei! She was a dream, a vision, a balm sent by the gods to rest his tired, bulging eyes.
And she was walking in the opposite direction.
Springing into action, Artemon left his hiding place and broke into a jog to catch up with the lady. "Domina!" he called out, hoping to get her attention, and produced a single, slightly crushed rose from a worn pouch around his waist. "For you, as a token of my appreciation," he beamed as he held out the flower for her to take.
January 76 AD
The new year had brought about a slight increase in business, but it hadn't increased Artemon's meagre salary in the same proportion. Gallus only cared for his own purse, that's what he did, and Artemon grumbled under his breath in Egyptian as he flitted about the old warehouse, loading and unloading things here and there like a (badly) paid cargo mule.
He had just put down his last crate and made a beeline for the water jug nearby when a figure came into his line of sight. That wasn't Gallus, or any of the other labourers he knew of. For one, none of them had such long hair. For two, none had such obviously feminine features either. Who was this lady? Had she entered the warehouse by accident, lost on her way to some other place? Artemon's first instinct was to greet her and ask her if she needed help, but Gallus wouldn't have approved of that. No, he was supposed to be serious and gruff so people knew not to mess with him!
"What are you doing here? This is private property!" he parroted in his best stern tone, wiping his sweaty hands on his equally sweaty tunic. "You need to leave."
After a day's work Artemon all but stumbled in through the door of the tiny one-room flat he shared with his twin, body aching for some rest. It seemed like he was the last one to get home that day, he concluded as he spotted Iophon's figure in a corner. "I bought us food, brother!" he announced cheerily, putting down on the table a clay bowl with finger-licking good stew he had got on the way home from the place Alexius had introduced him to.
"Iophon," he started, brow furrowed in deep concentration. "I've been thinking hard about something. What do you think is in those crates I carry back and forth for Gallus? I thought it was some kind of spice, but it doesn't smell like any I know." Granted, Artemon didn't know a lot of spices as his finances only allowed for the most common ones such as fennel and cumin, but that was no skin off his nose as he broke a piece of bread from a round dark loaf and sat down to dip it into the stew with gusto.
In between loud mouthfuls he carried on. "Do you think it's that plant women use so they don't have babies?" Whatever it was, it seemed like business was booming. And Artemon would very much like to be in on it too.
October 75 CE
After a successful praying session to the ancient gods of his homeland, Artemon was feeling quite ready to honour another Egyptian custom of old - a nice mug of beer. Even though his deity of choice was Sobek, the crocodile god to whom he had not found a temple yet, he had faith that neither Isis nor Serapis would object too much to being second best.
The small tavern a couple of streets away was mostly frequented by countrymen of his and, as far as Artemon was concerned, had pretty decent beer for its price. He hummed an old tune all the way there and headed straight for the counter upon entering, where he parted with a bit of coin and was given a big cup with a generous amount of beer inside. He took a sip, sighed in delight and made his way outside again, intent on enjoying his drink under the autumn sun...
That was, until he walked into something quite solid and proceeded to spill half his beer over it. As he processed the event he first mourned the loss of his drink, and only a moment later did he realise he had unwittingly given a young man a beer bath. With a sheepish smile Artemon awkwardly and futilely tried to pat the man dry as he apologised in Egyptian. "I'm sorry brother, my mind was elsewhere."
Artemon was feeling down for the umpteenth time that week. Things were not looking up at all. As he carried an amphora full of water up the stairs, balancing it easily over his shoulder, he ran the maths in his head once more. Numbers weren't his strong suit, but even a bad student like him knew that unless his luck changed - or Iophon's, for that matter -, keeping a roof over their heads would be no easy feat.
His thoughts quickly strayed to the topic of alternate lodging and then to his attractive neighbour Lucilla. She was so pretty and had such nice skin... hard to believe she was a laundress, her hands were never swollen and wrinkly! She must clearly use quality products and be paid well for them, since she could afford a better place than him and Iophon. If only she would give him the time of day...
Lost in his daydream, Artemon almost crashed into one of his neighbours that was going down the stairs, and after a few seconds of juggling and cursing the amphora was safely balanced between his shoulder and head again. "Sorry Alexius, I was very deep in thought," Artemon apologised to his downstairs neighbour. The man had always been friendly, so maybe he wouldn't be angry at the near-collision.
Wait a minute. Alexius was just the right person to ask! He was often in good-looking company. Looking at Alexius with big hopeful eyes, Artemon put a hand on the bodyguard's arm to stop him. "Actually, you're just the person I needed to see. I want your opinion. And your help," he added in a low conspiratorial tone. "What do you think of Lucilla who lives upstairs?"
22 | 10th December 52 CE | Peregrini | Odd jobbs | Bisexual | Original | Rami Malek
Artemon is a friendly young man with a fatal flaw: gullibility. Always eager to believe that his luck is about to turn round, he falls for the flimsiest plans with boundless enthusiasm and learns absolutely nothing from his failures. He is, however, resilient, as he picks himself up time and again while managing to keep his faith in humanity. His greatest dream is to strike it rich, and to this end he frequently embarks on a number of get-rich-quick schemes and drains his meagre savings in the process. He is a people person and will happily strike up a chat with total strangers in his native Egyptian, fluent Greek or his improving Latin – and being as credulous and naïf as he is, he also falls in and out of love very easily, coming across the love of his life on average twice a week.
Being a dimwit also has its problems, as some smarter people Artemon comes across will think he’s taking the mick because nobody could conceivably be this daft, and despite his frantic assurances that he’s not, every once in a while Artemon will come home sporting a black eye or bloody nose, or sometimes both. He’s a strong believer in magic and superstition and is thoroughly convinced that some unknown enemy of his has put a very strong curse on him that keeps him from succeeding in life - and when he finds out the identity of this person, he will make a sacrifice to Sobek and invoke the most powerful curse known to Egypt on his enemy.
He is a short and scrawny young man, courtesy of insufficient protein whilst growing up – but then again, Egyptians aren’t known for being tall, and at 167 cm he certainly isn’t. For all his apparent lack of muscle, however, Artemon has surprising upper body strength and is no stranger to loading and unloading ships at various harbours or reeling in a crocodile by accident instead of that humongous fish he was positive was trapped in the fishing net.
Perpetually bug-eyed with deep bags under his eyes that won’t go away even if he sleeps a whole day, he’s got the sun-kissed skin of Nile dwellers mixed in with a bit of Greek olive tones. He keeps his dark hair shorter than his brother’s because it gets in his blue eyes (the latter’s colour inherited from some Greek ancestor, his father would say), but if allowed to grow freely it would be just as curly. Artemon has a strong jaw made softer by the easy smile on his face and keeps it religiously free of hair, because it’s itchy and hot and he couldn’t grow a beard if he tried anyway. On the inside of his left bicep is a tattoo of Sobek, the crocodile god of the Nile.
His clothes are plain and of poor quality, betraying the sorry state of his finances, but Artemon tries to keep them as clean as possible, washing his two tunics regularly.
Father: Empedion (b. 18)
Mother: Tsillah (b. 23)
Siblings: Euphemios (b. 40), Apollodora (b. 42), Hermolaos (b. 46), Niketas (b. 49), Chrysanthe (b. 51), Iophon (twin brother, b. 52), Tryphosa (b. 57).
Extended family: aunts, uncles and cousins
52 CE – On a dark December night Artemon and his fraternal twin brother Iophon are born to an already big family in a village near Ptolemais Hermiou. He’s the oldest by a handful of minutes, but time would tell that he is definitely not the wisest. Empedion, their father, gives his new sons good Greek names, as he has done for the rest of his brood – after all, his own father was Greek, and that’s something very important to him. Tsillah, their fully Egyptian mother, doesn’t object any more than she did the previous times, and is just happy that they’re both healthy despite their small size.
57 CE – Their youngest sister, Tryphosa, is born, and Artemon and Iophon are demoted from their positions as babies of the family. Despite his young age, Artemon enjoys going fishing with his maternal grandfather and uncles and is much praised for doing his part in putting food on the table; turns out he does a good job of gutting the fish for a 5-year-old.
58 CE – In a family as large as theirs there are many mouths to feed and not enough food to go round. The Nile’s harvest is bountiful, but only a fraction of a fraction is made available to them and the children often go to bed hungry. Even as his older siblings marry and go off to burden another household or bring another pair of hands to theirs, young Artemon can’t help but lament how everything would be much better if they were rich. The rich never starve, do they? Thus he got it into his head that his one ambition in life was to become rich.
59-67 CE – Although he continues to help out with fishing and is taught the minimum of letters and numbers by his despondent father, Artemon felt like there had to be something more he could be doing to make money. First he tried collecting and selling pretty stones, but everyone could go and pick their own stones off the ground, so that didn’t work; it also didn’t help that the village kids easily conned him into trading his nice stones for others that were bigger but uglier, because arithmetic wasn’t his forte and Artemon didn’t grasp that two of his small shiny stones were worth more than a giant lump of badly-formed clay. Another time a travelling merchant came by the village and was selling herbal cure-alls at a very low price; always one with an eye for business, a barely teenaged Artemon bought the man’s whole supply in order to later sell them to the villagers for a higher price. It might just have worked were it not for the powerful loosening of the bowels the medicine caused, and as constipation hardly ever struck, his enterprise was futile.
68-74 CE – Having joined a small local company of merchants, Artemon and Iophon become another cog in the machine supplying Egyptian grain to the neverending poor of Rome. They sailed up and down the Nile, loading their feluccas with grain from the Thebaid and carrying it down to the port of Alexandria, from where it would cross the Mediterranean to feed the capital of the empire. Artemon was rightly impressed by the city, but after the first year it lost that ‘wow’ factor. When funds were running low, Artemon would team up with his brother and sell amulets against the evil eye to tourists while Iophon told his tales. Though it was steady work, a tiny sliver of ambition gnawed at Artemon: this was no way to get rich! To his simple mind, the path ahead was clear: who was buying the grain? Rome. Meaning there was plenty of money in Rome. Meaning Artemon should go where the money was – Rome! Brokering passage across the sea from himself and his brother was no issue thanks to his passable sailor skills.
74 CE – A couple of weeks after having disembarked at Ostia and gotten a feel for the place, Artemon travels onward and sees Rome for the first time, immediately feeling that this is the place where his fortune will be made. He spends the first few days in a daze, lodging at an old acquaintance of his captain’s, before his dwindling finances force him to look for employment. He found it at a fishmonger’s, gutting fish once more. It did not pay well, but Artemon managed to save a little bit of coin, which he promptly handed to a wise woman to cast a love spell to make Fabia the popina girl fall for him – and as was to be expected, the woman ran off and Fabia did not fall for Artemon. It is at this time that he becomes convinced somebody is out to sabotage his endeavours, and the wise woman was surely bought off by that person so his wish would not come true. After all, only a powerful curse brought on by envy and jealousy would spawn such bad luck.
75 CE, Jan - Jun – Artemon worked in Ostia, making the trek to Rome when his coin purse was heavy enough and returning to the harbour to load and unload shipments when it grew inexplicably empty. The earthquake put an end to that easy routine and Artemon was left scratching his head and deciding to pack up and stay in Rome for a bit – someone had told him they’d heard of a collapsed domus with lots of jewellery and precious items under the rubble that nobody had got to yet. After Artemon paid the man for the rights to inspect the ruins and spent many hours digging and removing dirt, the only things he found were broken amphorae and a putrefied goat.
75 CE, Jul – present – After many a lean week, Fortuna finally smiled upon Artemon and he found himself working for a man named Gallus, moving his merch between warehouses. What said merch is Artemon can’t quite tell, but it smells good and herbal, and if he’s smart this time maybe Gallus will let him in on it. Business seems to be going well, because there’s always work and the pay is steady; steady enough to allow him and Iophon to rent a room in an insula full of funky characters.
Liv | GMT+1 | PM/DM
Other Characters by this Player
- Cook's assistant
- 61 posts
- Player: Liv
- Face Claim: Kaya Scodelario
- Location: Roma