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Decimus Rutilius Atellus


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Decimus Rutilus Atellus

34 | July 20th, 38AD | Male | Plebian | Praetorian | Hetero | Allen Leech




Decimus was raised with a strong and healthy respect for the gods as well as Roman society. Reared on the tales of Scipio Africanus and other great heroes, his father was quite successful in rooting latin ideologies in the young boy. Being a strong supporter of the Roman state, Decimus often acts towards what he sees as the greater goals of the Empire; even if those goals aren't necessarily to his benefit. He has always loved his family and is very much a kind-hearted individual. The man is quick to greet others and does his best to make a good impression.

The soldier has a somewhat discouraged view of romance, often thinking of what it would be like to start his own family. For decades the possibility of settling down and finding love had been a distant dream, but with a more permanent posting, he's allowed himself to warm to the idea. The chief issue lies in the fact that he's inexperienced in the ways of courtship, not to mention seduction.

Though kind enough in good company, years of professional soldiery have left their mark on him. Initial encounters with Decimus are often met with brisk responses, hearty as they may be, and only after some conversation can one expect to find the man beneath. In leadership, he is firm but fair; finding unnecessary cruelty to be a tool of men un-adept at leadership. Being a man of virtue, he's generally despondent to any form of skullduggery and detests the thought that he might one day fall to the corruption of the Empire's darker circles. The loyalty of this man cannot be bought, giving cause to his current posting at the side of the Emperor's niece.  



Decimus has always maintained a short brown hair cut modeled after his father's. His body is muscular and well toned, like most in his line of work. His legs strong, shaped by years on the march and a general love for hiking through nature.  His skin is usually tanned in part because of his origins and of course his daily rituals which often find him underneath the sun. 

Under normal circumstances, Decimus can usually be found in a simple tunica of varying colors, though he does prefer shades of blue and green to brighter yellows and reds. On the job, his uniform no longer consists of the armors worn by dedicated soldiers, but rather the simple toga of men in service to the Emperor. Simply designed, this can be considered his "working" wear. 



Quintus Rutilius Atellus, 61, Alive


Claudia Atella, 51, Alive


Brother- Quintus Rutilius Atellus Minor, 38, Alive

Extended family:

Sister in Law - Valeria Atella, 21, Alive




  • Decimus was born second and with much approval of his father who had desperately hoped for another son to join his line. His birth was uneventful in terms of disaster or illness, and his family celebrated and gave a sacrifice of a white lamb to give thanks for his good health. His father was not present at the birth and had since earned his citizenship through means of military service. Upon hearing of his second son's birth, he was already on his way back from Northern Gaul and out of the legion for good. The efforts of his father would pay off in making Decimus and his family legal citizens of the Empire, and securing for his family a proper and fair life. 

    His childhood was much like any other, and he was quite keen on exploring the wilderness with his brother and several other local boys, including his best friend Flavius. Flavius was the son of their neighbors, and though they were far from his own family's property, they still made their best efforts to visit whenever possible. One day, the family was hosting a party for several families of the region, and he and Flavius had left out of sheer boredom. They had decided to explore the small cave on the edge of the property, and it was in this cave that Decimus would receive his first true scar of life. They approached the cave with carefree curiosity and Decimus crawled in on his hands and knees to investigate the low lying overhang. The ceiling was not so much rock as earth packed tightly and he thought for a few moments that this may be the burrow of a large creature that of course, he must find. He called to Flavius who began to crawl in, but he was lost in a swirl of dust and rock as the ground began to shake and tremble with the fury of one thousand drums. It was an earthquake, and Flavius had been crushed under the entrance of the cave while Decimus had luckily only been trapped in a pocket of air. He could see nothing but utter blackness, and it frightened him to the core as he choked on the dust that had been turned up by the sudden activity. It was not until several hours later that his father pulled Flavius from the mound of dirt as a corpse, and ferociously dug on to save his son who had barely survived. He would never forget this moment of his childhood, and the families found it hard to speak after the incident.



  • As he entered his adolescence, he had already been helping his father on the farm for a few years and he had been accustomed to the constant tasks of weeding and plowing alongside the family oxen. The slaves barely spoke to him, but this was not out of spite but by warning of his father. Decimus's father saw it as a personal offense for a slave to speak to his son, and they were careful to avoid him in the fields. He always saw this as strange, and as time went on, he would speak to the slaves behind the eye of his father and he developed a few relationships, but they were quickly cut off if his father was told by another servant. What little slaves the family had were devoted to field work and so they were a necessity which Decimus enjoyed. It did mean less work for him after all. It was also at this time that his father began to teach him the multiple areas of manhood that would help ease him on in the next steps of his journey towards leaving home. Swordplay was his strength and he learned quickly. It took many more months to teach him the multiple techniques of using the shield, as Decimus nearly always dropped it in favor of the added mobility of wielding only the sword. After a few years, he was ready, and he waved goodbye to his family, friends, and the rolling fields of Hispana. He was off to the Legion. 

    The journey to Tarraco was long and tiring, but he was able to keep up with the other boys that had been sent from the village. Rolling hills fell into flatland, which turned into ridges and hills once more, and soon they were upon the city. The towering walls were awe-inspiring to one who had barely left the farm in his youth, and it is here that he first grew to appreciate the full glories of Rome. The sights and smells of the city were overpowering and at every corner, there was the symbol of the Empire that had made it all possible. Tall red banners stood in the form of the city and peoples of all regions and creeds flocked around the packed streets. Slave merchants, wine merchants, cattle drivers, patricians, they could all be found in the city. Their destination, however, was on the other side of the city, and on the outskirts, and it took them nearly the whole of that day to navigate the streets to find their destination. On leaving the other side of Tarraco, the small party was amazed at the Castra which would serve as their home for the next few months. A tall walled compound that hummed with the activity of soldiers that his father had told him of. Here, he would begin his own legacy. 

    He enjoyed the training at the Castra a great deal, and he soon learned many valuable skills that would keep him alive on battlefields across the known world. The tightly knit units made for great friendships, and he would learn to trust and rely upon those other members of his cohort. He was assigned to a seasoned Centurion that had returned from a campaign fighting rebellious factions in Egypt that had threatened the grain supply of Rome, and for this, he was awarded a safer post, training the casual villagers that would need to become legionnaires. He was a stern man, yet fair, and Decimus took many of his virtues from the instructor who instilled a great deal of discipline in them with a wooden rod.



  • It would not be for many more months until he had been fully trained and sent off the far north and mysterious land of Britannia. He had heard many stories from his father about the land across the channel, but he had never been there himself and could have hardly known anything about the peoples there. It was common knowledge by that time that the legions of Rome had invaded the land and continued to wage war against its people, though Decimus had little idea of what he would face. The march to the staging area in Gaul was relatively uneventful, however, on the way across the channel they suffered through some rough seas which nearly split their vessels in half against huge white cliffs that bordered the sea. It was on the trip over that Decimus first began to despise traveling by sea. Upon landing, it could be seen that the Romans had been entrenched for a while. Formal military camps had been set up and supplies seemed to be flooding through the docks as fast as they could be carried from the ships. There was something else that served as an eye opener for him in his early days on the island as well... The vast assortment of wounded men. It appeared as though these barbarians did not fight the way they did, but preferred a more guerilla style of warfare, much like the dreaded Germans did at Teutoburg. Decimus was soon assigned to his cohort within the legion and found them entrenched on the front lines of the fighting. Before too long, he found himself facing these blue faced madmen known as the Britons. They fought with a savagery of crazed murderers and seemed to prefer their blue warpaint to armor. In one particular skirmish, Decimus found himself and his comrades faced with an impossible number of the enemy in a small section of woodland. The terrain was unforgiving and the battle fierce, but at the end, Decimus counted nearly one hundred Britannic bodies in front of his section of men, and the Centurion of his Centuria took note. Through many smaller skirmishes, he eventually rose to the rank of Optio, standing side by side with the leader of his Centuria. 

  • Over a period spanning ten years, Decimus had continued doing his part in the seemingly endless campaign in Britannia. Though many years of losing comrades and friends in the fields of battle have certainly taken their toll on his optimism, the Centurion had learned to cope with these losses as his new position demanded, finding a comfortable medium with his men, though he had certainly stopped being their friend in most senses of the word. Though it had been many years since he had last seen the rolling hills of his homeland, he was well aware of the pride and honor that he had brought to both his father and his family as they so claim in their letters. Fortune has smiled on the man as of late. After finally coming to Rome to represent his legate, Decimus was granted a new assignment. This assignment was one of great honor and responsibility; the position of as a Praetorian guardsman. It's here that he now finds himself surrounded by marble statues of heroes long past. Only fate knows what will be in store for him.



Sains | EST | Discord




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