Viae Romae

[Crozimodo]

The Viae Romae



The hustle and bustle of the streets of Rome hold many things, vibrant colours, amazing bargains, a knife concealed in the darkness...

Here deals and meetings are made, power and coin traded and names are made. Chance encounters and planned both have the power to change the fate of Rome and many of Rome's greatest men were born due to the people that walk these streets.

[dragoon47]

Lucius had spent the past 5 days tracking the three Quaestors which so evidently spent so much time together. At night, they were practically linked at the hip, seeing other senators and visiting many local merchants. Publius, what do you think you're doing? Lucius followed them once more behind an alleyway and he had gotten used to the smell and the small nooks and crannies of the city again. All that time in the country made you soft. As he turned the corner he had almost exposed himself as the senators turned to meet their apparent contact. They worked with a few merchant sailors and with the merchants, they were definitely smuggling something. What? Is the million Denar question. Then the contacts revealed themselves. The first one to speak had a heavy Celto-Hellenic accent.

Hello Quaestor, have you gotten any more men willing to fight for Rome?

Indeed Appius, I think you may have another century of men by noon tomorrow ready to be shipped off to Sicily, I hear they're going to Carthage soon anyway so no one will miss them and neither will they know where they have gone, for all their families will know they went missing in the marketplace.Petty merchants and rakes, child's play compared to what me and Lucius used to pull.

Good, good, good, here is the draft of the new restrictions that will be placed in the Mediterranean after that idiot gets his army killed.He handed the papers over, completely pleased with himself.

Thank you, I'll see that they do...and that you get your share of those recently foreclosed properties as well within the week.

I'm sure you will.

A veiled threat if there ever was one. I will see you soon. Child's play.

That solves one mystery at least, Lucius thought, should put Corvenus in the clear however he may not live long enough to enjoy it by their supposed knowledge of the front. The thought that the man may be a Mamertine streaked across Lucius' mind. I'll see all of you tomorrow, I wonder where they are keeping the money?

[dragoon47]

Lucius tailed the three Quaestors back to the Forum where they then split up, Lucius decided to tail Publius for their...history, together. It was soon dark, almost too dark to follow him but his old instincts began to kick in. Various tricks regarding low-light vision and breathing techniques allowing him to tail a target swift of foot without loss of breath while still being able to stay with him visually. It wasn't long before Publius reached home however, nice house. It was an urban villa of suitable proportions. Definitely above the pay of a normal Quaestor, it's a wonder no one questioned him about it. Lucius creeped along the walls and up onto a balcony and climbed through the window.

It was 2 hours before Publius finally decided to come upstairs and Lucius had become restless. Soft doesn't begin to describe what the countryside made you, better get to training these skills again, He was so restless in fact, that when the time came to pounce upon his target he stumbled and missed completely, both men falling and to neither came an advantage. Lucius pulled his Gladius from his waist and attempted to bring it to his opponents throat only to be easily countered by the clumsy move as his victim began to rise and began to chuckle in a familiar fashion.

I was wondering what was behind the crate, mistook you for a mouse. You could have at least used a less recognizable sword, half the neighborhood knows that one now, speak of demons and up they pop. Still conning the senate into thinking you're a man of status and philosophy?

Lucius lowered his blade slowly, Still the better swordsman...almost anyway, you're right on the former at the least, if you read a book once in a while you would recognize some of the 'cack' I spout on a regular basis. I guess he's right, there had to be some repercussion from using this sword at Taras and Rhegion.

If I didn't read, I wouldn't have equaled your cons in proportions. Though some would call mine detestable of many sorts, you must admit they are creative, soldiers don't recruit themselves, No sense hiding it, he heard everything if he got that close. Here to arrest me 'Praetor'?

I'm going to need you to turn the others in at least. That should increase your profits by a great deal if you're shipping what I think you are. How many Mnai are in that shipment, or are you dealing with Talents now? If the latter, it appears that you've finally learned some restraint when it comes to this house, if the former, you're still the village idiot. I'm going to need the banks as well, personal use of course. Pragmatic to its very flaws, what a wonderful man.

As long as I get immunity from any punishment I'm good, what were you following me for anyway? The treasury thing?

Yes, I'm still confounded. I thought it was Corvenus but now I see that neither mystery I had in my mind works out. It wasn't Sophus, I couldn't find anything in his house and he keeps very firm track of his money. I thought it may be Scaeva but that's just too cliche, he wouldn't charge Sophus himself if that was the case, he's not that sort of man. I'm at an impasse and it seems that it will continue. Regardless, I wish you luck on the next con-game you try, I'll keep your name out of it.

Sure but one thing.

Hmm?

Visit the neighborhood once in a while when you aren't playing that little game of yours, we could use the money at the least.

Oh? Sure, I suppose this night did me a little good, I haven't lost all my touch.

Only the important parts.

Oh shut up. Lucius then left, somewhat lighthearted from the experience. Probably no profit in turning me in yet, an honorable scoundrel at the least, I wonder how much money he got away with in these bank accounts.

[Merula]

Marcus arrives at the warehouse and sits down on a bench, waiting for whomever it was that sent the letter, although he had a rough idea...

[Kubrick]

It is busy on the market as Xanthos, the Greek mathematician, flows through the masses of people. He is hooded to avoid recognition. But where are those people? He spots one fellow at a pillar, all according to plan. He shuffles towards the unknown man. 'Salve friend, quite a nice day for this period, is it not?' The man keeps a neutral face when answering. 'Surely, if only my wife would go out and buy more bread.' They nodded at each other and Xanthos handed the mysterious man a small letter bag from under his cloak. It is filled to the brim and when it is passed through you hear the sound of coins.

After that they both quickly disappears in the masses of people. Xanthos repeats this six times with other people and then walks back home, continuously checking his back whether he is being followed. His heart is beating in his chest as he thinks about the plan again. Seven proxies, all to invest in the mines of Rhegion. In trade for being a proxy they can keep a small amount of the profits. All the rest will end up in Sophus his basement. Or his many bank accounts.

The intense beating of his heart is still there, he swallows multiple times but it wont go away. Out of precaution he takes a zigzagging route through the busy streets of Rome. If anyone was following him, he would have lost him now.

OOC: This is during a different period than your adventure Blip, I wanted to post this yesterday but had to leave early

[War lord]

Marcus arrives at the warehouse and sits down on a bench, waiting for whomever it was that sent the letter, although he had a rough idea...

Almost immediately after Marcus sits down, a figure in a black hooded cloak walks quickly around the corner and sits beside him, after what seems like an eternity the figure speaks in a familiar voice.

Marcus Atrius Merula?

[Merula]

The man suprises Marcus, who almost jumps in his seat, he hated this subterfuge and secrecy, nothing honourable in it at all, but, if it brought down the mad Consul, then Marcus would make that sacrifice.

I am Merula, Caldius, is that you? We have much to discuss...

[War lord]

Yes, we do.

The man takes his hood down, revealing Caldius's face.

I apologize for the Secrecy but Corvenus's spies are everywhere. I assume that's what you wanted to speak to me about?

[Merula]

Yes, I used to be that man's friend, I trusted him, but he broke that trust in Sicily and seemingly would bring down the republic with his warmongering!
Marcus shakes his head in disgust,
But hear me when I say we need to do this in accordance with the law, If i get Tribune next term I will not stop any attempt to have him brought before the Praetor.

[War lord]

Aye, that's all we ask, taking down Corvenus is about the only thing me, you and the others agree on. I personally assure you that I will do everything in my power to ensure that everything is done by the books. Maybe then, if the Gods will it, Roman Senators won't have to lurk around piss stained Warehouses all night.

Goodbye Marcus, perhaps you'll make Consul someday.

Caldius stands and pulls his hood back up, by the time Marcus lifts his head, Caldius has melted back into the shadows.

[dragoon47]

Read next two posts to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SF1fe7iA5W0

The next day Lucius hid in the same spot, mainly for Publius' sake than how good the spot actually was as he would know it was him. The lictors were in position, if it all went well, this would be a set-piece ambush. According to reports from Publius, passed through various Quaestors back to his office, must have the whole damned office licking his boots 7 days a week, there would be a shipment of many Talents going to an offshore Greek bank and the past 6 hours confirmed it. Crate after crate was loaded onto the ships as coins rattled inside. This may be the break I was looking for, there's no way the men they got killed are worth even one, a stroke of luck perhaps? Lucius waited longer still as 2 more hours passed and day turned to night. Then, just as Lucius had almost reached the end of his patience, Publius turned into view from down the street with a crate of his own on a wagon, escorted by bodyguards and slaves and a few odd-looking men trailing the caravan. Publius walked up to the quartermaster and the latter's eyes opened wide at the amounts. Apparently not the village idiot, Lucius thought.

The quartermaster ran back to his master and the company commander stepped forward. What is the meaning of this? He asked, you were supposed to bring me the shipment, not your own personal baggage!.

Publius smiled, I need this shipment brought to my personal account in Athens, the shipment you asked for is in the chests carried by my slaves. Did you honestly think you'd turn a profit by recruiting some poor plebs?

Memnon was furious, the man had tricked him only to gain access to a free boat, a filthy knave. Load it onto the ship...at least it wasn't a total loss...he'll have to pay the rate for that gold anyway.

I was thinking something different. Publius put his hand up to the sky and snapped his fingers.

Within moments all was chaos, the Lictors spilled out from all directions and Publius' supposed slaves drew Spanish Falcatas from their chests and javelins off the side of the wagons, his guards pushed their way forward after taking shields and pila from the crate that was supposed to be filled with gold and came forward in a wall of shields. The lictors, contrary to Lucius' orders, had their blades attached to their fasces as they skirmished around the rear of the company soldiers. The commander kept what little cool he had and ordered his men to the dock where they reformed into a phalanx as their mercenaries came out of the boat. A few Akontistai threw their javelins at the approaching shield wall as the company of Publius came forward; shields, skirmishers and lictors, an imposing sight to all witnesses of which there were many. Sorry Lucius, you're going to have to do what you do best, damage control. His men hurled their pila at the center of the encroaching hoplites and the shield wall opened, allowing the lictors to come through and hack into the center of the phalanx before it could recover. The wall closed and advanced once again, not allowing the flanks to turn their spears toward the lictors and their deadly fasces. The lighter men with falcatas, obviously warriors, not soldiers, went around the alleyways after expelling their javelins and came out through the various houses on the left and right and outflanked the company mercenaries.

The Epeirote mercenary was in a state of shock. They had no idea that they would be facing another disciplined force and now they were being hacked to death by a wedge, wall and light forces to their flanks and rear. They were being pushed backward, inward and apart and many were falling to various weapons. Some were tripping and sliding over the limbs and spilled innards of their comrades and their commander had already boarded a ship and decided to cut his losses only to be caught by an arrow from one of Publius' few precious Cretans. The mercenaries lifted their spears in surrender but it seemed that that only furthered the Roman Quaestor's fury as he ordered another press into their ranks and the true slaughter began. Heads started to roll and flashes of blood were everywhere, they had only inflicted minor casualties on the enemy and now he may die as well. He started to turn and run only to have a searing pain across his back and another in the center. The pain was horrendous and he drew one more breath, the pain from doing so was too much...the world closed in around him...

Lucius stood up slowly. He never even drew his Gladius in the entire event, just stood looking in the general direction of the fighting, his eyes completely out of focus just attempting to comprehend what had occurred. He has the Lictor's Guild? Publius walked slowly towards Lucius after having a few words with the commander of the ship, looking completely pleased without a spot of blood on him as he commanded from the rear of the formation.

Are you really so surprised dear Lucius? You didn't think I'd help you without a cut of this treasure? The loss of this money led to half the neighborhood starving because of the lack of work, the public works fell into disrepair through cancellation, the Patricians came through and abused us for scraps of food for months. I can assure you that if you ask the people of this quarter to never utter a word of these events they will do so. I just hope for your sake that no outsiders witnessed this. I already bribed the local magistrates and militia.

Lucius again attempted to regain his composure but failed, he barely managed to mutter, how many talents on board?

About one hundred, I will take 10 as a commissioning fee of course and to pay for my friends here, you can have the rest for your little scandal and the other Quaestors as well, I only used them as middlemen to that man. As he motioned to the shipping commander his throat was being slit and his body tossed overboard. Using him as a witness may have been better for your investigation but not for my safety if he talked, sorry about that. That leaves you with 90 talents to return to your precious treasury. Publius' mercenaries began loading wagons with their ill-gotten goods. Give me an hour to load everything, I'll take care of the mess.

Sure...Lucius was still lost but his mind was making a slow recovery. Where is the charter for the ship? Are there any names on it?

Some Greek was giving him the money to put into an offshore bank as you already know. Said he just came in and signed the papers with his off-hand and left, promised him the money and here it was. Shame the state gets most of it.

Shame...I'll be back in an hour...I need to...to-

Rest I'm sure. We'll be gone, I'll see if I can do anything about the blood. Hope to see you again.

Likewise...what the hell just happened?

An hour later Lucius regained his composure and returned to the spot. As he promised, there wasn't much left but the stains of blood remained on the dirty tiles. Lucius' lictors had loaded up the money and had it sent to the Villa Valerii via ship, sending obviously condescending smirks at him as they sailed away, ones that made Lucius chuckle in a slightly maniacal manner. You've been too naive Lucius, should have killed the bastard when you had the chance, you'll pay for this treachery Publius, one of these days you will. He brought the maniacal laughter all the way home, many in the streets thought he was insane, they may be right.

[Gone 2 the Celts]

Flavius enters a bar, and sits down at a table next to a hooded man, and money is exchanged

OOC: Flavius is
A) Selling some illegal items
B) Buying Pizza
C) Buying weopans off the black market
What do you think he's doing?

[Maiar93]

OOC: I figured this is the best place to have this convo in.

Flavius arrived at Temple of Fortuna just when the day was turning dark. It was already cold, he could feel it in his lungs. The silent bumping of his heart sounded like drumbeats, and he could do nothing but wait. The cold and the tension was tingling the back of his neck, while he stood in the twilight.

[Elendil of Númenor]

Soon enough Celsus appeared. He was wearing dark and ragged clothing. Had he not shown his face, Corvenus would have probably mistaken him for a beggar.
“I myself cannot know, how he turned members of the Order to his side. Even so, it seems the most honorable men can change, lured to the shadows by their lust for power.”
Celsus walked up the Temple steps. The street was not empty. People were going home after a hard day’s work – surely, they were safe. Not even someone as insane as this ‘enemy’ would attack them here in such an hour. Corvenus right behind him, they entered the building. It was a small temple, nothing like those near the city’s centre. A young priest was dusting one of the statues between the columns decorating the inside. He eyed the visitors warily, and when they were close enough, he set down his cloth and stepped up to them.
He narrowed his eyes as he gazed at Corvenus. He was probably wondering whether it really was the Consul, who returned from that questionable trip to Carthage. Common people didn’t have many a chance to set eyes on these men. The priest turned his gaze to Celsus, not giving too much effort into hiding his flinch. Eyebrows raised,
“Who may we have here?” he said in an airy tone.
“We are looking for Caius Cinna,” Celsus said steadily, hoping to make an acceptable impression. The priest just raised his brows even further. Then, shrugging and turning back to his statue, he said neutrally:
“Dead.”

[Maiar93]

Flavius turned to Celsus, whispering to his ear:

What next?

[Elendil of Númenor]

Celsus closed his eyes, concentrated, as if to make sure that he says the next sentence correctly.
“We have come forth with honour in order to meet by the crook of chance with he, who is keeper of the key in service of those who sing for Diana.”
Sure of the fact Corvenus probably hadn’t understood most of that, and wondering if he himself could, Celsus opened his eyes. The young priest has frozen by the sculpture, tilting his head slightly to peek over his shoulder. But it was a grouchy and deep voice that answered behind them.
“You’re early.” Everyone turned to face the old man. He was a small, stubby person. His back was straight, but he held a small staff in his hand. All his remaining hair was snow white, organized in such a fashion so it could cover as much as possible of the bald scalp. “Meeting won’t be ‘till the day after tomorrow.” He narrowed his eyes. “You,” he pointed at Corvenus. “You wear the toga praetexta.”
“He is consular Flavius Julius Corvenus,” Celsus answered quickly.
Cinna uttered something that could have been the cross of a hum and a cough. “A magistrate? The Order doesn’t deal with the Roman government, we’ve never done so, not since, since… three-hundred and –” he coughed again, looking as if he was choking. He raised both hands and his tone was foreboding. “And neither of you carry to sign!”
The young priest was now alert, ready to protect the old man or their order at any cost.
“My name is Flavius Julius Celsus. Celsus! You remember me from twenty years ago?”
“You’re not Julia’s skinny little sibling!”
“Julia is dead.”
“Nonsense.”
“She had been murdered.’
“Now why would anyone do that? She couldn’t hurt a fly.”
“By men of the Order.”
“What did men of the Order – what?! Rubbish! Blasphemy! Lunacy! Get out, out of this temple!”
“Caius Cinna!” Celsus snapped, having lost his patience. “I speak the truth. More than twenty years ago, I arrived home to find my parents dead in the burning ruins that was our house. Three years later, I find my beloved sister gone, her blood covering her home.”
“People die, Celsus,” Cinna grunted in an irate voice. “Everywhere, Celsus, day after day, people are lost or murdered. Our Order has to see the deaths of many of its followers every year – but it's part of our oath to die if it is necessary.”
“Cinna. The Order may have been betrayed. Someone from the inside has turned against you –”
“Young man,” he walked to the door and opened, seemingly restraining himself from being too resentful. “Such a lie I cannot accept. The Order’s foundations lie in the loyalty of its followers. Only such members are chosen whose fidelity cannot waver.”
“Then you must have made a mistake, your ranks have –”
“Thank you. There was no reason behind your visit. Get out.”
Celsus held onto the old man as the other priest advanced, his hand already reaching for something in his clothes.
“Speak of what I have said the day after tomorrow.”
“This is nonsense,” the old man heaved Celsus off, and they were already on the steps of the building. “The only man who betrayed the Order was me, talking about all of this to you and your friend here.”
“In his fidelity I trust.”
“Have a good day then, sirs!” Cinna shouted, so any passersby could here his glad farewell. Then he slammed the doors.

Celsus remained numb for a few moments. “I did this absolutely horribly,” he moaned. After some time, he looked up at the silent Corvenus when they were on the street again.
“Well, my friend, perhaps now we could both ask your previous question.” The two men then trotted back to Corvenus’s villa.

OOC: it’s easier to continue there

[Maiar93]

Flavius was confused. There would be long before he'd get used to this shady business..

I believe we tried to negotiate with the Order here. You were right - they do not accept weaknesses in themselves, so proud and foolish they are, yet they hold themselves as sharp and intelligent people.
Shaking his head left and right, he muttered angrily: I guess we must do this ourselves. Do you have a weapon, Celsus? Nevermind. It is probably worse than what I have in my storage.
While leading Celsus to his storage room, he continued: Mark my words, that we won't succeed without these! Of course, we will always try the diplomatic approach first. But you will need this, for self-defence at least. I don't want you drop dead.Flavius went to the storage room's wall, covered with all sorts of items: candles, parchments, items that every senator needs. He swept the items off that section of the wall(they were piled on top of each other in a small tower), and grapped a stick pointing out of the wall. He pulled, and the section of the wall opened inwards towards the two men. Flavius led him in to a small, dusty room. There was dark, so dark that without the light coming from the one little circular window you couldn't see anything. Flavius grabbed something from a table in the center of the small room, and then turned to Celsus. This, my friend, is my second Gladius. Just like the one i carry with me: made by the best weaponsmith in Rome. It is light, sharp and can cut off limbs and heads with ease. Flavius threw the sheathed weapon to Celsus, and led him out of the dusty room and finally out of the storage room to the Atrium. I hope you like it. You will have it as a gift from me. I never needed it anyway, i thought that i'd use it in ceremonies as a replacer to this blade which has already been bloodied. Yours yet requires it's "sacrifice". He grinned, obviously thinking it was funny.

[Elendil of Númenor]

Celsus chuckled for a second. “I thank you for your gift. Though, to be honest, it might have been a better idea to use it against me – I’m sorry, perhaps I shouldn’t have dragged you into all of this.”
He pulled half of the blade out of it’s sheath. It was truly one of the finest gladii he had ever seen.
“I must admit,” Celsus said, still grinning, “that I lost quite a few weapons until now. You see most of my travels and negotiations were, er, far from pacific.”
Looking up at the sky above the atrium, his voice became more serious. “But do not be mistaken. This enemy won’t be riding on a white steed, galloping with thousands of men with a large banner trying to kill your thousands. Probably the most people know of this enemy when they meet him is the feeling of a cold blade at the throat. Be watchful.”
He walked to the door, pulling the dark cloak up.
“Now I shall leave. I need to think. We may still have allies. Not all of the Order is made up of old fools. I just have to know whom to turn to. Await my return, Flavius Julius.”
With that, Celsus left the villa, keeping to the shadows as he walked, listening to the strange sounds of birds that came to life at night.

[Maiar93]

He watched when the man left. He watched, until it became dark and cold, and then he went inside his Villa. 'Better to just wait..'

[Elendil of Númenor]

“Where is the Prince?”
“He said he couldn’t come.”
“The Drunkard and the Sea-gull?”
“Something in Ostia. Couldn’t wait.”
“Potter and Helmet?”
“The Helmet’s with the other two, of Potter we do not know.”
“The Crow?”
“Haven’t seen him for two weeks.”
The two men looked up. They both had a short beard and seemed to be the tallest and most noble-looking members of the gathering. While they had been whispering, a crowd of nearly thirty people, mostly men, had seated themselves in a circle with their backs to the colonnades of the small temple. It was quite a colourful gathering in all respects.
Of the four women sitting in the group two were dressed like priestesses, though both belonged to different gods. Out of the other two one was dressed as an ordinary Roman woman, looking sober, the other sat with her back leaning on a pillar and her eyes closed, waiting for someone to speak. Her clothing was ragged and dirty, her hair uncombed. All the men were differently dressed. Some were wearing the most finely woven togas with expensive jewelry, while others tightened filthy rags to their bodies as clothing.
At least six or seven Greeks were sitting around the hall, shouting at each other in their own language, most of them dressed as merchants. Between two of them a thin but tall man of Gallic origins was seated, twirling his red mustache with finger and glancing warily at the two Greeks at his sides. Under Fortuna’s statue sat two cloak-clad Jews, perched on tiny chairs, looking up at the Goddess’s face often, rather uneasily. In another corner sat three Numidians, their dark skin making them barely visible in the shadow that one of the pillars cast over them. The rest of the group was mainly made up of genuine Romans. Cinna was at the locked door, gazing grumpily at the gathering. It was much larger than usual and he didn’t like big crowds.
“Friends!”
Of the two noble men who talked at the beginning, the one who asked the questions stood up. The other was sitting back, prodding his bearded chin with his finger lightly, looking at the group’s leader pensively.
“It is good to see you in such a number. Truly, our Order is strong. It has been decades since we had a chance to meet here, at the Twelfth Chamber. Let us hope that the endeavors of those who cannot be present today also are and will be successful!”
This seemed to receive general approval, as murmurs and claps rose here and there in agreement. The man continued:
“We are now working in every major group in Rome’s underworld. Soon enough, we’ll have our chance to initiate our grandest plan yet. To overthrow what needs to be overthrown. Then Rome can finally see.”
An even louder wave of joy swept through the building.
“Now, before we continue, we must all clear our minds of thoughts and ask for our success. Members of the Order, let us pray!”
With that, everyone suddenly fell silent. Some held their right hands to their hearts; others raised theirs towards the ceiling of the temple, palm facing outwards. With their left hands, they clutched the right wrist which was branded with the small symbol of a wolf. They all started mouthing words in their own languages, until slowly the silence was broken by gasps, whispers, murmurs; the bable of talk gradually became even louder, until the shrill prayers echoed throughout Fortuna’s Temple.
It was only natural, that no one could notice the first soft taps and knocks on the door which later became hard bangs. Someone was definitely trying to get in.