The Amazing Adventures of Naughtius Maximus
Guys, meet Naughtius Maximus, he's a fictional general of a Legion based in Sicilia. His skills as a general (and as a person for that matter) are debatable, but he somehow manages to appear successful and is extremely popular as a result. In his first adventure we see him in a quest to get some bread. This could be the start of a series of adventures incorporating rp events in them.
NAVGHTIVS MAXIMVS BVYS SOME BREAD
Naughtius Maximus is sitting in his tent,
Showing his godsends, showing his talent.
He’s eating away, the bread quickly shrinks,
But it won’t run out, or that’s what he thinks…
Then all of a sudden the bread is no more!
It ainīt in his hand and it ainīt on the floor…
He looks in his tent, to see where it went,
Never once wondering if the bread isnīt spent.
He looks in his chest, he looks in his bed,
And in that one book he never read,
He looks at the floor and he looks at the rest,
And he rechecks again the old battered chest.
Visibly puzzled he walks out the door,
Into the courtyard and looks there some more.
Confused he asks his brighter aide,
If he can have some new bread made.
His aide, being a foul prankster by heart,
Turned ridiculing his master into an art.
The foul man tells our hero right away
An untrue, blunt, harsh: ‘NAY!’
Our sad hero walks off into town,
And – being lost – asks a lady in a gown,
Where a man can get some bread.
This is what the lady said:
‘Some bread?’ she asked, her eyes aplay,
‘There’s a bakery just down the way,
Just ask the man for what you need,
And when you’re done, then you can eat.’
Unto the bakery he does go,
And asks the man, but he says: ‘No!
Pay me you must and promptly so!
With money, not with trinkets, though.’
A clink his purse makes as it drops.
A pickpocket hears it and quickly stops.
A swift hand the purse pulls away,
And our hero no more shall pay!
When Naughtius sees it it’s too late,
And our hero’s in a sorry state.
Now he’s hungry and he’s poor!
And humiliated to his core.
He cries and yells and begs and pleas,
But the thief just turns and flees.
Naughtius whines and stomps his foot,
To no avail ‘xcept to break his boot.
On one leg he limps back home,
To the camp of a Legion of Rome!
At the camp a smell reaches his nose.
A smell he follows, its close, its close!
The general walks to the clean mess tent,
‘Cause that is where the scent trail went.
He asks the cook: ‘What is that smell?’
The cook responds: ‘Can you not tell?
That, my friend, is fresh baked bread
A day without and you’ll wish you were dead!’
The general thinks and sees he was tricked,
But he shrugs it off and the bread is picked.
Now everything is as it was before,
Except for the lesson of the aide’s esprit the corps.
Our hero’s once more showing his skill,
He’s eating his bread and it’s cost him nil.
So calmness once more descends on the camp
We’ll see him again, our noble champ
May his next adventure be just as thrilling
And may its rewards be just as fulfilling.
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Originally Posted by Rebel Jeb
