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Aeterna Roma RPG

springy

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  1. Docia, now known as Vita Kitchen slave Age: 26 Just a little over a decade ago, a political marriage was arranged between Zia, daughter of the chieftain of the Appuli, and Diegis, youngest son of the chieftain of the Ratacensi. As a secondary measure to further cement the alliance between these two prominent tribes of central Dacia, Zia’s cousin, Tarbus, who had been sent along as a sort of permanent guard to his cousin, was married to Docia, niece to the chieftain of the Ratacensi. If the former union might be fairly said not to have been all milk and honey, Tarbus and Docia
  2. May, 76 CE Tarbus stood close to the mare, running his fingers through her long mane, over and over, rhythmically and without hurry. Resting his left arm against her withers, he used the right hand to tease out any tangles and lay the mane straight on her glossy neck. Fingers were more gentle than a rigid comb. And the repetitive motion coaxed more oil from the roots, adding to the silky look of the mixed black and white hairs. She was a deep, dappled grey, and the rest of her coat was already burnished, rubbed and brushed to a high shine, although a grey coat would never come close to th
  3. He saw the spark of recognition, as their eyes happened to meet, and despite the grip of anger and resentment that grabbed at his stomach and squeezed tight, Tarbus’ expression remained neutral. The man across the way in some sense embodied everything that was now wrong in the slave’s life, just as the iron collar was the inert symbol of the calamity that had befallen him, his adopted tribe, and almost certainly, in one way or another, his wife and sons. The fact that the legate remembered him brought no joy or sorrow to the Dacian, only an intensified sense of caution, which came up like a sh
  4. The servant intimated that the current mistress of the humble domicile was out, in conference with a man of her husband’s household. The woman looked at Tarbus meaningfully, but there was little hope in the lined creases of her face. They were all of them stuck here, until Zia declared otherwise. And when that might be and what might prompt it, none of them could say. Her retreat to this northern stronghold had been strategic, at least in her own mind. No doubt her concession to return would be as carefully thought out, the point being to inflict some sort of injury to her husband and his prid
  5. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! This was about all Tarbus could think, as he chased after the escaped stallion, reaching for the lead strap with his good hand. Sure, it would be no skin off his nose if a few Romans got run over and trampled under the hooves of the lust filled beast. But it would undoubtedly result in skin off his back, or worse, if his part in this incident was seen as the one to target for inflicting a lesson on would be inattentive slaves! From the corner of his eyes he saw people of all varieties scrambling this way or that, and in exasperation he shouted out, “Someone try to fucking cat
  6. Spring, 67 CE , Cumidava, Dacia Sometimes… he wondered. He wondered if his cousin did these things simply to annoy him and make his life more difficult. Of course, she didn’t. He knew that. But he also knew that she would fully realize how her headstrong and impetuous decisions so often wreaked havoc on his own affairs, and that Zia wouldn’t give a toss that they did. That was so her. An idea came into her head and it must be done, immediately. Tarbus wondered if age would ever soften her sharp edges, or bring wisdom to sit more easily with impulse. He seriously doubted that i
  7. April, 76 CE “Tst, tst…” Tarbus gave the headstall a shake with his good hand, to get the stallion’s attention. He spoke gruffly to him in Dacian. “Stop being an asshole. You’re not going to get to fuck her so just keep your dick to yourself!” He gave the stallion’s flank a flick with the tip of the lead, making the animal side-step skittishly, its partially released member swinging pendulously as its hooves beat a little tattoo on the stone flags of the yard. On the far side of the stable area, a mare in heat pranced, aware in her own way that she was garnering interest an
  8. May, 76 CE The sound of a footfall, shod in a boot of leather, crunching the rimed dead grass underneath, as the winter wind tugged at his cloak. His breath, frost filled clouds coming from nostrils, and lips slightly parted. Gathering ice crystals on the beard about cold-dried lips. In his hand, a long spear, as with stealth he approached the den. One tender plume of vapor standing proof of the sleeping bear therein. His weapon raised on high. Eager but still cautious signals, man to man, with steady hands and keen eyes, as they encircled the lair. A final sign, and the hunters mo
  9. springy

    springy's plotter

    TARBUS Here is my enslaved Dacian captured about a year ago by Roman forces lead by Titus Sulpicius Rufus (played by Liv). He now belongs to Rufus but has been contracted out to Marcus Eppius Parthenicus, leader of the white's faction chariot team (played by Sharpie). Tarbus is cousin to Zia (played by Sara), another enslaved Dacian owned by Rufus, taken in the same skirmish. Tarbus has been put to work as a general stable hand for the whites, and he'd be either at their stables in the Campus Martius or at the Circus Maximus. He pretends to know less Latin and Greek than he actually does
  10. Tarbus

    Tarbus

    TARBUS. 27 | 21 September 48 CE | Slave | Stable hand | Bisexual | Wanted | Marlon Teixeira Personality. Tarbus is a staid man. He’s been through a lot and like most men born into a world of both politics and warfare, he’s very good at hiding emotion. In fact, it might well be that at this point in his life he actually has trouble feeling emotions. He’s tough as nails, durable and enduring, dogged and diligent. He takes life very seriously and it shows, in the lines of his face and the beetling set of his eyebrows. His intelligence runs more to quiet, almost s
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