FOR THE PEOPLE AND SENATE OF AQUILONIA(IC, Lost Age PT/FanT)

[Latinus]

Arms, and the man I sing, who, forc’d by fate,
and haughtily Iuno’s unrelenting hate,
Expell’d and exil’s, left the foreign shore.
Long Labors, both by sea and land, he bore,
And in the doubtful waar, before he won
The Aquilonian realm and built the destined town;
His banished gods restor’d the rite divine,
And settled sure succession in his line,
From whence the race of Hellenes fathers come,
And long the glories of majestic Aquila.

Thus it is written. This is the story of a people, a proud race of free men born under the favor of the gods of Mount Armo, the inheritors and superiors of the fathers of civilization, the Hellenes.

[Latinus]

"Quando tu Gaius, ego Gaia" she whispered, her lithe olive body giving a tremor.

"I am but your herald, sweet Gaia." He replied, his strong hands gripping hers.

"Alright, you'll see her afterwards." The midwife shooed Gaius out of the room.

The bedroom was small, crowded with females, sparsely furnitured and adorned with mudbrick walls. Gaia was assisted by her sister and mother in law into the birthing stool, her body starting the more painful contractions.

"Breath! Breath child!" The short midwife, armed with her mystical stachel of women's medicines and tools circled her and began her holy work, barking orders at the gathered.

A boy! It is was boy! And a strong one too! Gaius had run into the room the minute the midwife had summoned him. The little bundle had his nose and chin but his mother's sweet eyes. Gaius had leaned forward and the little tyke had grabbed his nose and gave it a squeeze. Gaia looked on faintly, sweat on her brow and her limbs still slightly trembling.

Diana was watching, Gaius was sure of that. They had come to the temple to give thanks to the goddess of birth for the successful delivery. The great statue of her look serenely upon them as the priest washed the child in the basin. The temple was a large open space enclosed in a arcade of columns made of marble. The smell of Gaia's sacrifice, the tunic that she wore when she was giving birth and the placenta that she expelled, was overpowering.

"What a healthy looking child!" The wrinkled old priest said "The goddess herself must have been your midwife!"

Gaia smiled at that as she leaned on her husband.

The priest lifted the child up and asked "What is its name?"

"Decimus Equitius" Gaius responded his head swimming from the smell.

"

[Latinus]

Aquilonia is nation that believes that if you use magic, you take something away from the man. Whether this is the truth or a way to compensate for the lack of magicians may be up for debate, but what is not is that Aquilonian armies have never been much for spell slinging or curse casting.

Aquilonia may not have access to the deep magics but what they do have is organization and discipline and that counts for a lot.

The dragon was a monstrous beast. It had a wingspan dozens of feet long and a extremely long neck, its long jaws were filled with uneven jagged fangs. Its coloration was black and bronze with eyes that glowed with fire. It had four grasping sets of raven like talons attached to a slender body with a tail that was barbed at the end. Spiky protrusions ran the whole length of its back.

When it flew it made the most terrible sound, a horrible raspy shriek that reminded the men of someone wrenching open a door whose hinges had rusted.

It breathed jets of red-orange flame that scorched the earth and it was tearing a bull in half by grasping the head in its mouth and tugging on the legs until the spine gave out.

Centurion Sextus Junius Dolabella halted his column on the road, it consisting of his Optio and a specially selected contubernia of his eight best men. He turned to speak to them.

"Men! That beast is coming down!" He barked. "I don't want to hear no whining!"

His legionnaires grinned and tightened their grip on their pila. They gave a shout of approval.

The cry attached the attention of the beast who looked up with a eternal scowl. It cried once and took off circling around, then diving towards the column with a terrible shriek.

The Legionnaires waited until the beast was about to open its mouth and expel it's terrible flames when they jumped to the sides. The flame crashed down on the pave stones of the road with a terrible violence and heat, blackening the stone for a stretch. The dragon, pulling out, looked back to see the results of his handiwork.

He got a nice set of wood and iron quills for his trouble.

"RIGHT IN HIS ARSE!" Sextus cried out in approval. As the dragon fell from the sky screaming, The men cheered and cried out the traditional shout of the spectators at the races in the circus "NIKA! NIKA!"

The dragon, hurt and confused by the noise wheeled around and started to take off again. He flapped his wings, started to rise and suddenly pitched forward, slamming his face into the ground. The bolt of a scorpio was buried deep into his neck. Trying to breath, he gurgled and started violently rolling and twitching.

From out of a nearby grove charged forth a dozen of the Orcish cavalry of the tribe of Dushnikh. They wheeled around the spasming dragon, throwing javelins into its sides. Every time the dragon lunged out, they moved out of the way with the effortless grace of a people who grew up on horses. They bellowed strange warcries and jeered at the dragon in its death throes.

Finally the great beast gave one last weak cry and closed its fiery eyes forever.

The armies of Aquilonia may not have access to the deep magics of other races but they have organization and discipline and that counts for a lot.

[Latinus]

The stained glass shone with a soft ethereal light on the water and the marble of the walls and floor, giving an almost religious aspect to the rather mundane activity. The ceiling was an immense barrel vault set with mosaics of the god Neptūnus commanding the waves and copulating with mermaids. The water lapped softly as men of all social classes soaked together after a hard day of job they did to earn their wages in the State. The air was filled with soft incense imported from Shie and Numer and idle conversation emanated from the huddled masses.

At one end of the pool was the Senator Lucius Cornelia Sulla, a thin wiry middle aged man and his entourage of clients, business partners, and sycophants. Sulla was in the middle of some witty jest and his men were already laughing and slapping their knees. Their noise became irksome to the other powerful user of the thermae, Senator Gaius Fabricius Luscinus, a older pock-marked man with one eye on the other end of the pool mirrored by his own group.

"The baths," Luscinus said aloud, his voice a deep bass "are supposed to be a contemplative soak, my dear colleague."

"Just because you seem to have come from a funeral," Sulla quipped in his sharp nasally tone "doesn't mean I can't share a few jokes with my friends."

"Careful son," Luscinus retorted "You are still growing into your voice." His section burst out laughing at that one, their voices echoing off the vaulted ceiling.

Sulla waved his hand "Help the old man get a better look at me, the cyclops seems to be having a bit of trouble." The whole of the bath snickered at that one.

"I may have lost one eye to the barbarians, but you mother found my third eye quick enough." Luscinus retorted. Laughs and low howls erupted, the common folk caught between the groups enjoying the proceedings immensely.

At that, Sulla boiled. He stood up and two members of his entourage held him back. Luscinus spread his arms out and grinned. "I could still take you kid," Luscinus chuckled "but it wouldn't do to have Senators fighting in the baths. Why don't we call upon some of our friends to settle this?" The bath erupted into cheers at this suggestion.

Sulla gathered himself "Alright, alright, Flamma!" He said looking at a aged but still considerable specimen of physical health seated near him "Show off some of those skills that helped you survive your career in the Games!"

Luscinus snorted "Capaneus, you up for a fight?"

A similarly aged but muscular man responded "I got this."

The crowd in the bath went crazy. Back in their days, Flamma and Capaneus were big name draws for any fight. Only chance and their respective bankrupting appearance fees had kept them from fighting each other.

"A week from now in the Forum!" Sulla sneered "Then we'll see about it!"

[Latinus]

Busy was the Forum, the great heart of the city. Traders and dealers lined the paved streets up against the great cement walls of the public buildings, crying their wares and services to the passing people. And what people they were, rich patricians surrounded by their friends and bodyguards, and working class Aquilonians scurrying from stall to stall trying to find the best deal. Whores clad in togas and reeking of perfumes called out to potential customers, while farmers drove oxen pulled carts filled with today's produce. Artists painted, sculpted, and laid mosaics while tailors and leather workers measured, cut, and sewed clothes of endless colors and styles. In the din could be heard blacksmiths laboring over their forges and the steady cut of carpenters hewing wood. Only one group was silent as was their due, and many they were, slaves bound and slaves whipped, slaves bought and killed, slaves toting and slaves lifting. And yes, if you were wondering, slaves, some no older then ten, boys and girls both purchased by men with wicked gleams in their eyes and dragged off to private places and robbed of even the basest of dignity.

The Forum is a place of temples, of the Senate House, of the basilicas where money was made, stored, invested and lost. On one end was the Temple of Saturni, god of wealth and happiness with its red painted columns surrounded by shines to Concordia, goddess of peace and Venus goddess of beauty. Continuing through the mass of humanity, you came to the Temple of Yanus, god of transitions and doorways with its massive iron and oak doors and small alcove where the god stood watch and it's mirrored back exit and the Temple of Castores and Polydeuces, the twin brothers of human effort, a arcade of eight by eight columns enclosing a rather plain white building building. Yet further was the immense Tabularium, the hall of records, with it's red brick facing and red tiled roof. It faced the great open plaza that gave the Forum its name with the public speaking podium known as the Rostra and the Senate House and the Curia Comitia on the opposite side. Behind the Tabularium rose Traitor's rock on the banks of the Albua river as it wound its way through the city. Walking further on brings one to the circular Temple of Hestia with it's east facing door, arcade of twelve columns great domed roof and the holy fire that burns eternally. Pushing on through the crowd of worshipers one comes to the temple of Dinah, goddess of the hunt and childbirth. A open circular arcade with a great columns painted brown carved to look like bark and a domed roof with a dazzling leaf and branch scroll-work and a Statue of the Goddess in her hunting arraignment. Finally after much difficulty one comes to the end of the Forum, and the Temple of Plouton god of death and mineral wealth. A foreboding temple it is low squat building built into the earth so only the great black tiled roof is visible from the street. Opposite is the great slave markets and the Carcere Tullianum, the great prison were criminals are kept before they are executed or sold into slavery. The offices of the officials who tend to the Cloaca Maxima and the numerous aqueducts that supply the city are slightly further on.