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24 | 10th March 52 | Slave | Body slave | Straight | Wanted | James D'Arcy





By nature a bit of a firebrand, Jason has learned the hard way to rein his temper in and keep himself in check, especially when it is one of his Roman masters who sparks him off. Things no longer rile him the way they once did, or maybe it's simply that he has learned to pick his battles, and that he is now rarely ever going to win the battle of wills.

He is quieter now, growing thoughtful and observant of those around him, though he will still roll his eyes at Roman stupidity and dumb ideas. He is probably not the sort of slave one would expect to find serving as the body slave of an Imperial prince, even an adopted one, but his master's sense and measured approach to things has helped settle Jason's temper as no amount of slaps, beatings and backhands across the mouth have been able to before, and he is more guarded in his speech than he has been before. Although he may still have the occasional outburst, he is less prone to have them where anyone of consequence can overhear.

He is a deeply loyal person, once he lets his guard down enough to grow close to anyone – although that guard has been up almost since he was enslaved simply because he has a very deeply rooted sense of mistrust when it comes to Romans and anyone to do with them. He is a little conflicted when it comes to his master, Tiberius, who seems to be the exception to the rule that no Roman can be trusted, although Jason is more than aware that a slave should never trust a free person no matter who they are or what they have said or done.



A Sarmatian from the wild steppe, Jason looks very little different in appearance to his Roman masters, having something of the same skin-tone, though his hair is a lighter brown than is common among the native Italians, with a reddish cast to it in certain lights. He is naturally slender, with the wiriness common to his people. He also gets his height, or rather its lack, from them, standing at just over five feet and five inches tall. Perhaps his most striking feature are his hazel eyes, which may appear to be more green or more light brown depending on the light. His skin is olive and he tans easily in the sun. His hair, once worn in the warrior braids of his people, was roughly shorn when he became a slave. These days, it is generally a bit longer than a fashionable citizen wears their hair, but it isn't long enough any more to draw attention or comment, much less speculation about his barbaric background.

As far as his clothing goes, he wears what he is given – these days, he wears tunics in linen or a light wool, in colours suitable for the body-slave of an Imperial prince, belted with a plain leather belt. In colder weather, he wears a lacerna (cloak) in a nondescript grey or brown wool, pinned with a simple cheap penannular brooch. When out and about, he wears simple leather sandals.



Father: Tasius (presumed dead)

Mother: Tamura (whereabouts unknown)

Siblings: Kouridatês (older brother, whereabouts unknown), Mada (younger sister, whereabouts unknown)

Spouse: None

Children: None

Extended family: Azarion (cousin) (whereabouts unknown)

Other: Tiberius Claudius Sabucius (master)



52 AD Tiranês was born on a wild March day, the second son of a chief of a people that could equally be described as wild. He grew up learning the skills of his warrior people, both the bow and, more significantly, how to ride – it could almost be said that he could ride before he could walk. It is a wild, almost carefree existence, the tribes migrating with the seasons, following the milder weather as they seek for pasture that will not be snow-bound.

66AD Their regular migrations bring them into contact with the Romans as they are forced to cross the territories of other tribes, or the Romans, or to ford rivers that are almost impassable. Raids into the territories of other tribes and peoples are not uncommon for a warlike people, and eventually the Romans make a treaty to stop the Sarmatian tribespeople encroaching on their borders. In order to enforce this treaty, several high-ranking Sarmatians are delivered to the Romans as hostages. Among their number are Tiranês, now fourteen, and his cousin, the eldest son of a minor chieftain.

68 AD All is well for two years until there is a raid on Pannonia, in flagrant defiance of the treaty. In retribution, the Romans bring their hostages to the banks of the river opposite the Sarmatian encampment to make an example of them in full view of their own people who watch helplessly. Azarion, who has been his usual mouthy self in spite of everything Tiranês could do to rein him in, has his tongue cut out, which inflames Tiranês so much he can only be held back by a Roman seizing a fistful of his hair and holding a sword to his throat. Several of the older hostages are crucified, left as a stark reminder of what happens to those who defy the Romans. Tiranês himself is thrown to the ground to have a Roman force himself on him, ignoring the curses and threats he utters in both his own tongue and in broken Latin. Someone else has the bright idea of cutting off his warrior braids before shutting him in the cage that houses the surviving hostages while their Roman captors decide their fate.

The next day, Tiranês is sold to a slave dealer. All thoughts of escape and retribution are swiftly curtailed when an iron slave collar is put round his neck, chaining him to a fellow prisoner in front and behind, and it is in ignominy that he enters Aquileia, still with his young cousin, although they are soon separated, with Azarion being sold to a merchant and Tiranês (abruptly informed that his name was a barbaric one and he would henceforth answer to 'Jason' which was from a language and legend that Tiranês had no knowledge of nor interest in learning) sold to another merchant for an onward journey further into Italy and away from his own people, the last of whom was still a child and suffering from one of the most barbaric things Tiranês had ever witnessed.

67-70AD Tiranês, now Jason, has reluctantly grown used to the life of a slave, always at someone else's beck and call, eating what and when told, wearing the clothes is given (none so fine and warm as what he had been used to wearing as a chief's son) and the only jewellery now a tag indicating that he is someone else's property, to be held and returned to his owner should he attempt to run away.

He is still unclear on the precise chain of events that brought him to the notice of a member of the Imperial family (he's still unclear on precisely which member of the family it was in the first place, anyway!) but he is bought again, this time in a private sale. No sooner has he been bought by one Imperial than he's given to another as some sort of gift (coming of age? Birthday? Name day? Just-because-it's-sunny-again-today day?) and enters the service of one Tiberius Claudius Sabucius, a young man he had barely even heard of the day before and who now owns him and can legally do anything he wants with him. Jason is cautious around the young man – who, it transpires, is four years younger than him, but has all the seriousness and gravitas of a man ten years older. It is by a bit of careful detective work that Jason discovers the reason for Tiberius' seriousness: the loss of several members of his family in a civil war that Jason had no idea about, that happened when he (Jason) was still living wild and free on the steppe as Tiranês. Something about Tiberius' story spoke to him in a way that few things have since he was enslaved, and he has become by choice the sort of slave that his previous masters couldn't force him to be with whips and slaps, seeing Tiberius as a surrogate brother, although he is painfully aware that Tiberius, a consummate Roman, does not see him as anything other than property.

Sharpe | GMT | Discord

@Gothic or @Anna





Edited by Sharpie
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