Chris

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It was a good question. A fair question. A question he didn't have a good answer for, but he tried to answer even still. "In truth, I'm not sure what it would do to me," he said, "to go back. There are..." his eyes fell sideways to the ground as memories of his past life flooded into his mind. "...many things left unfinished." It was a vague statement, but true. He had his obligations to Burrus in Rome... and an unfinished war in Britannia. Eppitacos took a deep, controlled breath and returned his gaze to Cynane's eyes. "If I were to go back, I see one of two outcomes. The first: Once I'm discovered, I'm betrayed again. Maybe they make me a slave again, or maybe they kill me. The second: Perhaps some would find hope in news of my return. Hope that might renew war, bloodshed. I am not prepared for either of those outcomes just yet." He realized it was a cowardly thing to say, and truthfully he had felt the call to return to their homeland for some time. His most recent expedition in Hispania had only further engrained in him the realization that fighting was what he was best at. @Atrice

Eppitacos kept his eyes on Cynane as he relayed the larger events in his life since they had last met, all the while aware that despite their shared history she had not always been the biggest fan of his. He hadn't forgotten that there was a sizable population of Britons in Rome - mostly by way of enslavement - who blamed Eppitacos for their defeat. That he had not died when others did; that he had been enslaved and yet become a celebrity. And now he was free. He could feel the distaste in Cynane's words as she commented on his freedom, and he knew that she was still a servant before she confirmed it herself. She was right; at least he was free. And he could not blame her for feeling bitterness. "I see..." he started, his eyes falling briefly to the floor before flicking back up to her. There had always been something about her eyes that kept his attention. A certain fierceness. "I'd wondered.. when I saw you." He stood from the ledge he'd been occupying. "It is a change," he admitted. "But it gives me something to work towards. And at least I can fix my own arm." He grinned as he moved his forged prosthetic. He took a drink of wine. "To be truthful, I miss home." @Atrice

"How'd I come to be a blacksmith, you mean?" He clarified, his smile widening slightly. "It is quite a story." The last Eppitacos had seen Cynane, they had both been in the palace. He was then lost in the uncertainty of his future, while she - though also a slave - seemed to be in a good place, at least. Few could ask for a better situation than serving one of the imperial family. He thought to start the story of just how he had ended up a blacksmith, but as the rain began to pick up, he remembered the kiln was still red hot. "Just a moment," he said, putting up the fingers of the hand he had left to signal he'd be right back. In a dash he ran into the shop, doused the flame, fanned the steam and smoke that rose as a result, and returned the tools to their proper places. Burrus stirred. "Done?" "For now," Epp returned. "Get inside. It's to rain and the cold won't suit you." Burrus rolled off his cot and waddled his way inside where he was instantly greeted with the contempt of his wife. Eppitacos walked to the edge of the shop, where its walls met the street, and leaned out to catch Cynane's attention. He motioned for her to come in slightly under the roof. "Come on in out of the rain," he said, and motioned to a small bench situated in the front waiting area of the shop. He turned to a table next to where Burrus had been lounging, took from it a small container of wine, pouring some for himself and offering Cynane the remnants of the amphora if she pleased. "Now then," Eppitacos stepped back to where he was halfway sitting on a ledge, "the story. "When we last met I had just been purchased by the vestal Calpurnia... officially as a gift for her brother. I met him only once, but mostly remained in service to her. Running errands and such that she couldn't. "She gave me and a handful of others our freedom during the Saturnalia that same year, and then helped me to find work here with Burrus- the man who owns this smithy. And that has been my life since... more or less." He decided to leave out the details of his trip to Hispania and the blood feud he'd been pulled into as a result of it. @Atrice

It wasn't simply the sound of his name, but the very distinct native inflection of its pronunciation that instantly pulled Eppitacos from his quasi-meditation. His eyes spread wide as he angled his head to see who was calling to him. He instantly recognized the face. A smile naturally lifted his features as he stepped away from the wall that had been his instrument for respite. "Surprise, indeed," he said, looking over Cynane to see what - if anything - had changed since the last time they'd met. That she was alone brought the question of whether she, too, had earned her freedom. Though he suspected if that was the case, she would have long since left Rome. "What's it been? A couple years?" Eppitacos only then noticed the droplets of rain. For a man who lived in heat and smoke, the coolness of the drops was incredibly refreshing. @Atrice

Late October, 76 "Did you forget everything I taught you in that short amount of time away?" Burrus snarled, forcing himself up onto his feet. Eppitacos rose from his hunched posture, turning on his heel, and looked squarely down on his aging employer. "I forget nothing," he said, very quick and to the point. "Rather, it's you who forgets that if you don't stay calm, your heart is going to burn out faster than this kiln. Now, sit," he insisted, and thrust his prosthetic arm toward the cot that Burrus had only just escaped from. Their relationship had become stranger than Epp ever expected it would. In many ways Eppitacos felt more like a part of the family than an employee. He supposed it was because Burrus' own son was off finding his own fortunes and cared little for life in Rome. Who else did the man have to depend upon? Burrus rolled his tongue around his teeth in contempt, not saying anything audibly, but very much stating his objection all the same. In the end, he stayed quiet until the very moment he returned to his cot where he uttered some criticism of Eppitacos' striking form under his breath. Anything else he said was quickly drowned from the distinct ping of the work being done. Eppitacos' had only returned to Rome two weeks prior, and work had not stopped since the day he arrived back at the shop. Orders and requests had piled in on Burrus, who hadn't the strength to finish any but the least demanding. For his part, Eppitacos rested only to sleep and eat, and he had very nearly caught up on orders... or so he thought. "Alfidius Burrus?" A Praetorian stepped in, eyes squinty and searching heavily through the heat and smoke. Burrus had fallen asleep. He often told Eppitacos that the sounds of the forge were like a lullaby to him. "That's him," Epp pointed. "And you are?" The Praetorian's eyes narrowed further, now fully focused on Eppitacos. "Eppitacus, sir," the response came, and widened the Praetorian's gaze. "So you are," the guard said, looking over Eppitacos' arm. And after some time, "I lost a brother in Britannia." "We all lost something." "Aye..." The guard looked over Eppitacos again and after a short pause rattled off his business. "Our smiths are busy seeing to repairs for Caesar's singulares. We need these weapons refitted, wrapped, cleaned, the works. Someone will be by at the end of the week with payment." "They'll be ready." The Praetorian nodded, took a last look around the place, and then left with the weapons all still loaded into a wagon in the middle of the street. When Epp had at last finished unloading the weapons and storing them in the shop, he stepped into the street and let his sweat-soaked tunic press against the cool brick of the building's outer wall. He closed his eyes and just listened to the city without a care in the world of who might be around... @Atrice

Brother, It is good to hear from you. I am indeed well here in Syria, and I hope the same can be said for you back home in the city. It is not surprising to hear that Tusca remains the same as ever. He is a traditional man, and I suspect he will stay set in his ways until he passes from this world. But rest assured, we will have our own home before that time comes! For what it's worth, there could be many more worse places for you to rest your head than Juliana's villa. We are eternally indebted to her. Company is a good thing to have, and I'm relieved that you have maintained your bond with Tiberius. Despite his name, or perhaps because of it, he will remain an important person in the politics of the city. A good friend to support and have supporting you as you already begin to take your first steps into public life. I cannot say I know any of the Vipsanii-Rosci, though - and this may come as a surprise to you for me to put this to parchment - I agree it is important to maintain friends of all walks of life. I, myself, have come to terms with many of my more backwards thoughts while here in Syria. The auxilia I command is full of Britons. Would you believe my incredulousness when I arrived. I nearly tried to fight them all. There is one man here, Dubius. He served under Pater on the island. He has be a great help to me these past months. Ladies! Why didn't you start the letter with that, brother? How long I've waited to dive into the secrets of the incredible fortune of the Junii-Silani... that is our looks, of course. Certainly do not rush into marriage. I can't let you beat me to that. Enjoy your youth, explore and discover yourself... and if you do something you know you shouldn't (we all do), just make sure the general public doesn't find out! As for your career: I'm proud that you'll soon begin the first of many steps to help me reclaim the glory of our family name, and I will do all I can to help you along the path. I have become close with the governor Nonius and senior legionary legates here. In fact, the legate my auxilia is attached to has personally requested that I remain beyond my term. Though I long for Rome, proving my worth will undoubtedly be helpful. Whether your path lies in the military, or if you prefer something more governing, there is no hurdle we cannot overcome together. Write me soon, and be well. your brother, Lucius @Atrice

Eppitacos listened intently as Horatia spoke to him. He could hear the weight of belief behind her words. She was right, and he believed - as she did - that the gods did have some purpose for him. He had fiercely believed that his purpose was to save Britannia when he was younger. That belief was shattered, and over time as he was separated from his home, his culture, his people, his gods, he lost all belief or interest in any sort of purpose other than living. "A truly higher purpose that would be," he chuckled after Horatia spoke of his prospects as an actor. "Though I believe I've had my fill of being an entertainer." Which brought Horatia to suggest another route to him. "It isn't uncommon," he conceded, and then contemplated how truthful he should be about the situation he had endured at his former ludus; with an ex-betrothed who wanted nothing more than to see him dead; that she, and not the gods, had twice been the agent of chaos behind the greatest changes in his life. "But I've also had my fill of killing," he grinned. Eppitacos took a deep, contemplative breath. "As I said, for most of my life I used my hands to destroy... and now that destruction has taken its own toll on me." He raised both arms up to briefly display the difference between his forearms. "I would like to use the hand I have left to create... something," he smiled softly. @Sara

Eppitacos surmised from Horatia's tight smile that despite his best efforts to master the Roman way of discourse, he hadn't quite perfected the subtleties of it. Or was he just overthinking everything and putting too much Roman into the Briton? She posed a good question, though, that took him away from second-guessing himself: Would he enjoy it? That largely depended on how his hosts viewed him and treated him. Was he to be a showpiece for their entertainment? Or was he to be seen an equal - or at least something close to it? "I would enjoy the opportunity," he answered with a soft smile, "though I don't have much in terms of plans or grand aspirations to speak on. It's been a long time since I've had the freedom to think of a future." In Britannia, and even in the arena, he had been consumed with the here and now, fighting the threat of the moment, and winning the chance at another day. "My past was dominated by warfare, and that is, truly, all I've known. Any plans I once had are nothing but memories now." He cast his eyes down to look at his shortened sword arm. "I always believed the gods had a better use for me, I was just never good at listening." @Sara

Updated! (7/3/22) LUCIUS JUNIUS SILANUS Background: Adopted son (biological nephew) of Decimus Silanus, who was most well-known for defeating a pirate threat, and launching the second wave of invasions in Britannia against Eppitacos (where he was ultimately killed in battle). Lucius grew up accustomed to death and chaos, and has not had an easy life since Decimus' death. Personal Plot Developments: After returning from several campaigns in Britannia, Lucius spent the majority of his inherited wealth to rebuild the family estate (that had been destroyed in the riots years earlier). Not much longer, he was embroiled in a legal battle against his paternal cousin over the rightful claim to the land where the estate was built. He ultimately lost the battle, his home, and his wealth. In a fit of rage he set fire to the home and was arrested for arson. With the help of his former commander Longinus, Lucius was able to escape punishment for arson, and found his way back into military service. He was sent to Syria to command an auxiliary regiment of Britons because of his ability to speak their native dialects. Current Situation: Lucius has been in Syria for the better part of the past year, mostly serving as border patrol. Though he went east with the goal of restoring his family's name, he has since become disillusioned and is no longer sure he even wants to return to Rome. Lucius is at a crossroads where he could become an absolute degenerate, or rise to the top - it all depends on the people around him. Looking For: I'm open to pretty much anything atm. Random ideas: An eastern woman (possibly with ties to the new Seleucids) who seduces him and only flames his disillusionment. A strong Roman woman who whips him into shape. A slum rat sort of friend who pushes him into a life of debauchery. The possibilities are endless! EPPITACOS Background: Former 'king' of the Britons, and warleader of the Brigantes, Eppitacos was the courageous (and almost successful) leader of the Britons against the second Roman invasion led by Decimus Silanus. He was eventually betrayed by his betrothed, Ysulda of the Brigantes, and sent to Rome a slave. Instead of being executed, he was spared by Quintus Caesar who made him into an entertainer in the colosseum. Personal Plot Developments: Eppitacos spent over a decade fighting in the area and became so beloved for his fighting style and theatrics that he gained a great deal of popularity and fanfare within the city. That all came to an end when the lanista in charge of him - Albinus - married none other than Ysulda - Epp's back-stabbing betrothed. Long story short, Epp was set to receive his freedom, but Ysulda orchestrated an attack on Epp that required his sword arm be amputated, and almost took his life. After the attack, instead of being freed, Epp was sold by Caesar to a Vestal named Calpurnia. Eventually freed, Epp found himself apprenticed to a blacksmith (and former fan) who fashioned a prosthetic arm of sorts for him. With a knack for smithing and his employer Burrus' health failing, Epp took a larger role in the business... which eventually led him to get connected with Burrus' family in Hispania. Current Situation: Epp has recently returned from Hispania where he helped Burrus' son Flavus with a hostile takeover of a rival business. He is now back in Rome, back at the forge... but having fought again he has reawakened the bloodlust within himself. He struggles daily with a desire to leave Rome and find adventure wherever he can... though deep within him there is an itch to return to Britannia. Looking For: I'd really like to get him connected with other Britons (or slaves in general). Possibly could be connected with gang characters as well- that would be an easy connection to make with Flavus. Let me know if anything sounds interesting! Also, just to put it out there: I'm interested in creating a couple of entirely new characters to serve as my mains. So if anyone has some wanteds, please let me know!

Hey hey! I play two characters currently. First is Eppitacos, who would certainly be familiar with Owyn considering their shared history. He was also a gladiator for most of the 10+ years he's been in Rome. Part of a plot I had for him was that after Ysulda fled to Rome, she married Albinus - the lanista in charge of Epp. She wouldn't have Epp earn his freedom, so she set up an attack on him that resulted in him being wounded so bad that he had his sword arm amputated. After all of that, instead of being freed, he was sold by Caesar to a Vestal - Calpurnia (sister-in-law to Sara's Horatia) - and later freed by her. So! He's now a freedman apprenticed as a blacksmith. I'd love to see what seeing Owyn would do to him. He's struggled with the "Roman vs Briton" dichotomy. Second is Lucius Junius Silanus, another character tied to Britannia. He's the nephew/adopted son of Decimus Junius SIlanus - the original governor who sort of kicked off the second phase of the invasion. Lucius served under Sara's Longinus and was known for his brutality against Britons. He's currently in the east, ironically commanding an auxlia of Britons who've joined Rome ha. So I'm not sure they could meet in the present, but perhaps back in time. Just wanted to put the idea out there! Let me know your thoughts! @Knight

Eppitacos couldn't help but smirk at her mention of her husband's less than complimentary recollections of Britannia. He wouldn't expect any different from a Roman... especially if her husband had been fighting the Britons when Eppitacos commanded them. "I have not," he said, affirming that he hadn't traveled beyond Rome before that very trip from which he was then returning. "Any exposure I had to anything beyond Roma was from fighting men and beasts brought from abroad. I'd prefer to see them in their natural element." To which she mentioned Calpurnia and her villa. Eppitacos knew of his patron's villa, though he had not yet visited. He put on a smile to match hers; warm and calming. He was happy to see that, despite her crossed arms, she seemed to be relaxing to his presence. Once again the influence of Calpurnia had saved him. He widened his smile at her mention of the irony in his being a dinner guest... though internally he felt his heart lunge. The war that I started? But he had learned enough about Romans to know better than always speak his heart. And then she mentioned a son. "Indeed, I'm sure he would. Should he desire it, or you, I am of course obliged. I could not deny a request from a relative of Calpurnia." He just hoped her son wasn't some snobby Roman brat. That would be a situation where he would find it much more difficult to hold his tongue. @Sara

Eppitacos smirked as he walked away and heard Cinnia's "Alright" lift into the air behind him. He dashed quickly through the hall leading out into the open air plaza, and once there let his eyes dart around for anything that might work as a sword. Hearing Cinnia's footsteps behind him, he found nothing than a tree in the corner with barren limbs. He reached up, using his strength to snap nearly sword-sized limbs from the tree. They were hefty enough to grasp tightly, and not too flimsy. He turned to greet Cinnia. "Not quite swords, but these will do," he laughed, and handed the longer of the two limbs over to her. "Now, any last words?" Again his smirk crossed over the corner of his lips, and he waited for Cinnia to make her move. @Atrice

Lucius smiled. "I don't imagine you will need to be in battle commanding soliders," he began, "but one day you'll have a family, a litter of small Caecinae running about," he lowerd his hands toward the ground and fluttered them about to mimic the sporadic movements of children at play. "And then the commander in you will come out." They had almost completed their tour of the garden.. though in reality the pair had spent more time looking at one another than any of the scenery. It had been a much needed respite for Lucius, considering everything else that had been going on in his life. His thoughts took him to the east, where he was to be for at least the next year, if not longer. He wondered, if he fought in the east for so long, what would become of her life in his time away. Surely she would have a family by that point. "Whenever it is I return from the east," he said, still halfway in his thoughts, "you must promise to meet me here for another stroll around the garden." @Echo

Note from Chris: FORTUNA AUGUSTI JULY-SEPTEMBER 76 AD It is the 829th year since the founding of Rome, and for the better part of two decades the empire has had peace. After bringing a swift defeat to the usurpers and traitors who with their very actions moved to unravel the fabrics that made up the sacred traditions of the eternal city, Imperator Quintus Flavius Caesar Alexander Augustus has managed to maintain balance by directing the ambitions of those under his control toward strengthening their empire internally with great architectural projects, and fortifying her borders against the ever-ravenous barbarian tribes inhabiting the fringes of the world. IN APRIL all of the Roman world celebrates the gods and the fortune of the Caesars. In the first senate session of the month, with the nineteenth birthday of Caesar's eldest son Titus just days away, the Senate invests upon Titus the traditional imperial powers - the maius imperium - along with the tribunician powers in the same manner as Augustus had passed them onto Tiberius half a century earlier. With these powers Titus is essentially co-Caesar, equal to Quintus in constitutional power, if yet lacking in his personal authority and majesty. The month of Aprilis is marked for celebration; celebration for the new powers placed upon Titus, and for the Ludi Megalenses (on April 4th) celebrating Cybele the Goddess of Motherhood; the Ludi Ceriales (on April 12th), honoring Ceres the Goddess of Grains; and the Ludi Florales (on the 27th), honoring Flora, Goddess of Flowers. It is a joyous time across the empire. IN MAY Quintus Caesar, along with his son Titus and retinue of his closest companions, embarks on a tour of the empire to visit the legions and frontier forts so that each commander and solider might see Titus' face, know his voice, and what sort of man he is. Across the frontier they engage in small raids and drills, with Quintus deferring command to Titus. Titus, unwilling to let his pride be wounded, performs marvelously and is quick to earn the respect of the frontier legions (arguably the most important to a Caesar's base of power). Later in the month, while on the lines of the Danube, Quintus Caesar falls gravely ill. Spartan in his diet and regimen, he is a man who has rarely fallen ill at any point in his life, and it is a great surprise to his attendants when this new ailment ceases all progress of their tour. In a private moment witnessed only by Quintus, Titus, and Quintus' closest aide, Quintus hands his signet ring - a family heirloom of the Flavians - to Titus, effectively conferring absolute power to his son. IN JUNE Caesar briefly recovers from his sickness, but finds himself short of breath and energy and makes the decision to cut his tour short in order to return to Rome. Once returned, his condition again worsens and he calls upon his closest allies. In yet another closed-door meeting, he presents Titus, wearing his ring, and one-by-one each proclaims their loyalty to Titus, his family, and to Rome. Quintus announces that he intends to retire into private life, for he will not stand to have his image of strength wither away in front of the senate and people. At the suggestion of his closest advisors, and in an attempt to avoid any sort of turbulence in handing over power, Quintus creates a consilium, or council, of ten men who will serve the empire and Titus Caesar. This first iteration of the council is made up of: Two Flavians to serve as potential successors: Jullus, and Octavius Flavius Alexander The Princeps Senatus - Directly representing the Senate. Two Consuls - Revolving every year to represent the empire at large. The Praetorian Prefect - To represent the Equestrians. Two Peoples' Tribunes - To represent the lower classes. Two Companions - Chosen directly by Titus to support and represent him as called upon. IT IS NOW JULY and Quintus Caesar has retired to his family's villa in the countryside between Rome and Naples. He remains weakened from the mysterious illness, and will likely remain so for the rest of his life. Though he remains away from the weight of power, he still offers guidance and support to his son, and maintains alliances across the empire in an effort to help as he can. The majority of his time is spent writing his personal memoirs and a treatise on tactics in warfare. Titus sits as Caesar. All decisions that are made are first made within the Consilium, and then taken to the Senate or people as needed. Rome's nobility, as ambitious as ever, now see the Consilium as the gateway to glory and power for their families. They are eager to prove themselves worthy of inclusion within Caesar's inner circle. Outside of Rome the barbarian tribes remain as restless as ever, but it is the continued success of new Seleucid Empire against Parthia in east that poses the greatest growing threat to Rome. Will Titus prove himself the commander that his father and grandfather were, or will he find a new path on which to forge his legacy? All roads lead to Rome... and from it. Where will yours take you?