Roman Legion OOC Forums

=== Rome, Veno Coliseum ===

Clarus made his way through the cheering crowd down to the empty seat waiting for him. He brushed the seat off with his hand before taking a sitting down next to a few acquaintances.

“Fulvio?” he said to the man staring at the gladiators fighting in the arena below.

The roman sat there with his metal chain around his neck unflinching. “Do I know you stranger?”

“We have a mutual friend,” Clarus said.

Fulvio turned and sized Carus up. “The german… where is he. I don’t do business this way.”

Clarus sat up as he felt the sharp point of the knife poke into his back. He turned his head slowly looking over his shoulder at the man sitting behind him. “Unfortunately he couldn’t make it. Other pressing matters- from now on you’ll be dealing with me. Unless you want me to take my money to one of the other gangs?”

Fulvio stared at him for a second, deciding in his head what he wanted to do. He turned and nodded to his man who just as quickly as he placed it removed the knife from Clarus’s back. “No need for that brother, your money is good here.”

“You did a good job obtaining the information we requested. It took a while but it was good solid information.”

“You wanted it to be detailed and accurate. That’s what the german requested, that’s what the german got. Good information requires time, you want a job done half ass go find someone else.”

Clarus leaned in so he could hear the gang leader over the noise of the crowd. “Well your good job earned you some more work if you’re up for it. But first I need to know if your involved with those senators being killed?”

“What is it to you?” Fulvio questioned, squinting.

“I have work for you that I can’t have being disturbed by foolish beefs between the blues, greens, reds or who ever,” Clarus said firmly.

“You’re safe. I don’t get involved with those people. I just go and enjoy the races; I control the Ostia docks and the Aventine. My business keeps me too busy to follow behind them.” Fulvio said. “... but I don’t have all day, get to the point.”

“You know the man you followed? The group whose interests I represent want his influence removed from Rome, he’s become an annoyance.” Clarus was serious, and kept from blinking to show it.

Fulvio sighed and looked to his man. “In other words you want him dead.”


“In the end, yes.” Clarus pulled out a scroll and held it for Fulvio to take. “But this is more than just a killing.”

Fulvio stanched the scroll and opened it, reading its contents quickly. He paused several times to look at Clarus. “This guy must have really pissed somebody off. But I’ll do it; I’m going to have to bring guys in from out of town for this job though.”

“Why? I don’t want many hands on this.” Clarus questioned, almost denying the comment outright.

“For what you want in this letter help from outside Rome is exactly what I need. If one of my men is spotted by some citizen and arrested who knows what he could say before he’s put to death. Remember my men live and work here- someone is bound to see them. I’ll bring a crew in to do the job they’ll do it then leave. So what if they get spotted, no one knows who they are and they’ll be long gone before the investigation starts.”

Clarus looked around, nervousness cracking through his usual stone demeanor. “Fine, just make sure these guys are good. I don’t want any slip ups, remember we’re paying you for your attention to detail.”

“Don’t worry, I know a crew up North. I’ve used them for some killings in the past, they’re very good. Now there’s the matter of my money: two million.” Fulvio looked quickly toward the arena floor and clapped as he saw his favorite gladiator enter the arena.

“Two million!” Clarus shouted. “Are you serious? That’s al…”

Fulvio cut Clarus short shooting the young roman a dirty look. “That’s right two million for who you want dead and how you want them dead- be lucky that’s all I’m charging! Take it or leave it,” Fulvio handed the scroll back to Clarus who made sure to securely tuck it in his pouch.

“Fine,” Clarus snapped. “Get it done and get it done right.”

=== Five Weeks Later; Nones of Junius ===

Haydn and Timola, two of the twenty guard of Tiberius Lucius Carus and his family, were riding alongside each other on the Via Appia on their regular trek to Tiberium Treverorum. They rode North every couple weeks to secure Lucius Carus’s earnings, relay messages and buy up available Northern slaves for work and freedom on the Carus holdings. Both men were former soldiers of the North, and fell into service to Lucius Carus after the first annual sword tournament of Germania a few years back. The sun was on them like water on a fish as they rode, making conversation scarce and brow wiping frequent.

As the day pressed on and the noon hour seemed to never end, another group of riders appeared before them on the horizon. Timola immediately spotted that they were Northerners, Germanic looking and in a hurry. He and Haydn pulled their horses to the side of the highway but did not stop, since neither were afraid of countrymen- or a good road fight. The next few minutes went by much more quickly than the last few, and soon enough the facial features of the oncoming Germans could be made out. One in particular to Haydn.

“Timola!” He whispered loudly, trying not to be seen speaking. “I know the lead rider: Sigeric. A terrible, honorless man. He could only be coming for one reason...”

Timola scoffed, and tightened his hands around the horses reigns. He looked at the bearded red haired German riding closer and tried to see if he too could recognize him. The name was all too familiar, so there must be a memory somewhere. No luck, so Timola said, “I doubt Sigeric would be coming to Rome uninvited.”

“Exactly!” Haydn said, louder than he’d hoped. He shut his mouth in time to lock eyes with Sigeric as the large German barreled past. Sigeric maintained eye contact with Haydn for the few brief moments he could, snarling all the while. Haydn didn’t flinch, because he heard once that if you flinched from Sigerics sneer, it was the end of you. After the thundering of two dozen horse hooves quieted, Haydn turned to face Timola. “He is a mercenary! I’ve seen him in action, shit Timola i’ve worked jobs with him! I’m surprised as hell he didn’t stop.”

“Shut up!” Timola said in disbelief. He had known Haydn for years and never heard that he was once a soldier-for-hire. “Why do you think he’s on his way to Ro... Oh fuck.”

“Yeah, Carus...” Haydn said, understanding clearly what Timola was getting at. “He knows he was being watched. He’s been followed for the past two months almost, this must be why!”

“Well fuck the trip North damnit, we have to get back to Carus!” Timola pulled his horse around to the right and stopped when he faced South. Haydn reached out and grabbed Timola’s arm to stop him from galloping away.

“If we go riding fast past that demon of a German he’ll know we’re up to something and I tell you now that I don’t want to get my shit cut to pieces just because you’re in a hurry!” Haydn let go of his friends arm and took a breath. He was getting excited and he could feel it in his face, and with the new streams of sweat running down his face, neck and chest. “We have to cut around through the farmland and enter through the Porta Praetoria... Sigeric wont go there if he’s here for a slaughter. If we’re lucky Carus will be there visiting his soldier buddies.”

“Good idea, let’s go then. We can beat that thug to Rome!”

Haydn shook his head and kicked his horse around too, saying loudly, “Fuck we’d better!”


=== The Next Day ===

“You, slave, find me your master Fulvio,” The tall figure said with his flaming red hair. His deep german accent was unmistakable and immediately drew the stairs from several around the tavern. Fulvio, hearing his name and seeing man standing against the wall as he waited, stood and made for the german, knocking the slave to one side as he went.

“Sigeric you old red dog! Still scaring the common folk, huh?” Fulvio extended his hand, shaking the german’s even dirtier hands. “Just off the road I see!”

“Your letter didn’t give me much time. You said it was urgent, why have I come?”

Fulvio gestured towards his upstairs office for more privacy. The two trotted up the stairs. Once inside Fulvio went directly for the wine as Sigeric closed the door. He filled a clay cup to the brim before handing it to Sigeric who gulped it down.

“AH, it’s hard to find good wine in the north!” he held his hand out for some more. “So before I make myself drunk tell me old friend, why have I come?”

“Business as always,” Fulvio quipped. “I have a job for you and your men: A man that needs killing.”

“And you sent word all the way north just to kill one man? What’s the catch?” Fulvio smiled at the comment

“This is a known man, a senator ex-soldier with former soldiers guarding him. Something I feel your talents are best suited for. My men can’t be implicated in this, I need a face not easily identified in Rome. Plus your men are better suited for squaring off with soldiers!”

“How many soldiers are we talking about here? 50? 60?” Sigeric asked, smiling.

“Twenty, and only four are with the target at one time.”

Sigeric laughed. “That’s it? I’ll do that for free!”

Fulvio shook his head and moved around the side of his desk. “It would be if there wasn’t a special kill order on this one. The guy owns two insalue right next to each other he has twenty guards that protect him his wife and kids. They are all former soldiers, good soldiers from what I hear, so don’t underestimate these guys.”

“Don’t worry, Fulvio! My men are the meanest, most ruthless killers you’ll ever see! This is what we do, we’re hired to kill people and we’re very good at our jobs. Do you have anyone watching this senator? I’ll need to know his movements and see the street before I can begin planning this.”

Fulvio was pleased, but he wasn’t smiling. “I have men on him in case the situation changes or for some reason we’re unable to get to him. As soon as you get cleaned up I’ll send a man to show you the area and point the target out to you. How long do you think it will before you can rally your men?”

“Half of them are in Ostia, I’ll send word north for the rest of my men plus that will give me time to arrange everything.” Sigeric examined the dirt under his nails. “For an operation of this size im going to need some support from you.”

Fulvio looked puzzled. “What type of support do you mean?”

“I might need your help with an escape, and with the city guard.”

“That’s not a problem. Once you’ve worked out the details of your plan tell me what you need from my people. As for the urban cohortes, well that might be more of an issue. In the old days it was an easy as paying a few of them off. Today, well we’ll have to be more creative.”

=== Kalens of Sextilis, Early Evening ===

“Anything new?” Sigeric said with his mouth full of food. Vithimer, his lieutenant, had been working Fulvio’s men to check and double check the information, shadow their target’s movements looking for a break in his routine and examining the nightly patrols of the urban cohorts.

“No. The same damn thing day in and day out. But we know the routes the patrols usually take every night so that’s one less thing we have to worry about.” Vithimer took a seat next to his employer.

“And the men?” Sigeric questioned, chewing with his mouth open.

“Bored. So yesterday I ordered them all to start training, you can never be too prepared for battle. A rider came in this morning the rest of the men will be here by nightfall tomorrow.”

“Good when they get them training as well keep it all low key then start moving the men into the city. I want all the men in Rome in two days. Everything has been arranged we strike in two days.” Sigeric wiped his mouth in his sleeve.

“Do Fulvio’s men understand their job?”

Vithimer picked up a slice of meat taking a large bite “Yes I made sure of it myself. There his best men and we’ve already pre-scouted locations. They know if they see a patrol coming to send word immediately, I’ve even posted his men at both ends of the street to prevent any meddlesome citizen looking to run for help.”

“Good, very good.”

Around the same time somewhere in the subura, Haydn and Timola huddled with a half dozen Urban Cohorts guardsmen. It was an uncomfortable room to be in, thanks to Timola and Haydn both usually being on the wrong end of the Cohorts arrest authority. It took some poking, prodding and eventually some bribing to get the Praefectus Vigilum to release these select guardsmen for some ‘vacation’ time. The group had three days to plan and defend their friend Tiberius Lucius Carus before the loaned officers went back to active duty. The room was brightly lit and clean, a request by Haydn’s wife when he said he would be having guests that night. He explained to his friend, and the officers, that his wife didn’t see a reason a poor house had to be any less clean than a palatial one. They laughed, and it eased the tension.

The sound of the streets below the teetering top floor apartment was still filtering in around them, as the bustle was winding down. The subura was one of the last districts within Rome to go silent with the night, and often enough never did. The group was hoping that the next few nights would be busy on the narrow, dangerous streets around them. It would help their mission if that was the case. The general idea was to try and keep any and all confrontations with Sigeric and his men contained within the subura, where most of the eyes knew that what they saw wasn’t always what they should say.

“Has anybody spotted Sigeric since the passing on the via Appia?” Asked Marcus, one of the guardsmen. Haydn shook his head ‘no’, and looked to Timola.

“Nay, but I asked around and there is a rather large German lingering within a tavern a few streets over.” Timola smiled mischeviously. “He has the same features we’re looking for, but I haven’t confirmed that it is him.”

“Damnit Timola, you’re such a wimp. I’ll go fucking identify the merc and then we can take him out,” Haydn stepped back from the group and moved counterclockwise to reach for his cloak. His outstretched hand was gripped solidly by Frisio, another guardsman. Haydn looked squarely in his eyes and calmly demanded, “Let go of me.”

“I can’t brother, you’re about to storm off and get yourself killed. That sure as shit isn’t going to save your friend Carus,” Frisio said. Haydn looked over to Timola, who appeared rather sheepish, and then back to Frisio. The guardsmen continued, and let go of Haydn’s arm. “It would be an all too dangerous coincidence for either of you to show up in the same tavern the target is residing, since he saw you ride out of the city as he rode in. I’ll go with Marcus; a night patrol won’t be all that unusual here. Tell me his details so I don’t mark the wrong ditchdigger.”

Haydn huffed, but with all the eyes in the room on him he had to comply. He didn’t want to die just for being careless. “Very tall, very broad. A gut the size of an oxen, and red hair that seems to wrap his entire face. His eyes are crazy, and I mean crazy. Think of a madman, and then think of a madman from the wild of Germania. That’s Sigeric.”

“Heh, sounds typical.” Frisio nodded at Marcus, and then looked to Timola as he moved clockwise around to pair with Marcus. “Timola, wimpy Timola,” Frisios comment made Haydn and a few others laugh; Timola scowled and shook his head. “Tell me where the tavern is.”

“You can’t miss it, cocksucker, it’s directly across from us just on the opposite side of the next street.” Timola said. “There is always a gaggle of strange lingering out front.”

Frisio laughed, and pushed Marcus onward. “I don’t think I could miss that. We’ll be back.”

Half an hour later and Frisio returned with Marcus. They were silent for a few moments after rejoining to group. Finally another guardsman spoke. “Well?!”

Marcus said, “He’s a big man, you weren’t joking Haydn.”

“Eh, he’s a drunken mess. He could barely sit right in his fucking chair!” Frisio exclaimed, in what sounded like a mixture of anger and humor. “Let’s take him now. Just get it over with.”



=== Two Days Later, Around Midnight ===

A gentle breeze blew as night crept by, a man stepped from the shadows staggering down the street reeking of cheap wine. He swayed from side to side and as he approached the home of Tiberius Lucius Carus. The two guards standing outside instinctively stood at attention eyeing the man as he came closer.

“You two seen my wife?” As he staggered in he appeared to lose his balance and fell onto one of the guards putting his full weight on him. Smelling the alcohol dripping off him the guard began to push the drunk off him when a four inch blade was quickly thrust upward into soft spot under the guards chin. The second guard in shock, but reacting off his training reached for his sword and almost managed to get it fully out of its scabbard when he was tackled by the not so drunk man. A scuffle ensued as the two fell to the ground fighting for the sword. The attacker was killed.

“Help to arms!” the guard yelled as he pushed off his attacker. He was unable to say much else as other men came running up to him. They cut his throat before other guards could come to his aid. The street flooded with men, and they divided into two groups, each filing into the two side by side insula of the three Carus owned, all with swords drawn. Fiftyfive killers ran into the two insula, thirty behind Vithimer and twentyfive behind Aredric, who had to assume a leadership role since Sigeric was slaughtered the night before.

Carus’s elite guards took no time snapping at attention and grabbing their swords to defend themselves, Haydn and Timola included. Lucius Carus had taken no special precautions for his defense other than what was already in place, so it was easy for the marauders to infiltrate. The courtyard quickly filed up with Carus’s guards who fought tooth and nail even after they had been stabbed several times. Their Northern fighting skills served them well, but the numbers pitted against them were too great. Vithimer grappled with a soldier smaller in stature than him but defiantly refused to give up. It wasn’t until another of his men stabbed the guard in the back did he fall. The mail that his men wore under their clothes and their sheer numbers he brought to the battle was the only reason he was winning and even then just slightly. He was losing three for every one of Carus’s guards.

They went from room to room clearing the insula as the guards fell back to one central location in the insula. No one else was inside either of the insula except for Lucius Carus, and his diminishing guard. Nine guards stood side by side with Carus as they defended the door to a room and whatever prize it led to. Sigeric stopped as he allowed his men to file in behind him. He pointed to the right and some of his men slowly began to move to the flank. There was complete silence between the two groups as each sized up the other.

Vithimer pointed his sword at Carus, who glared defiantly and spat on Vithimers face. The furious German wiped it off slowly, and said, “Remember- anyone harms that one they’ll have to answer to me!“ He gave out a yell and his men rushed in for the final kill. The five of his men fell immediately while only two of Carus’s men fell but the combined weight of the men rushing in overwhelmed the paltry nine and they were done away with. Lucius Carus fought as as if he were nine men in one, deflecting sword and dagger with heavy breaths and grunts of incredible power. Before he was knocked unconscious he took out eight of Vithimer’s men- including Vithimer.

“Tie him up and gag him then stuff him into that bag. Move!” Aredric said, taking command of the operation. His thoughts rushed over Vithimer’s death and then over the suprise slaughter of Segeric. He would enjoy torturing Carus. As Carus was bagged and carried away, Aredric eyed the door the Boar of the North so valiantly protected and said as he kicked it in, “Let’s see what that douche was protecting!”

The few of his men left grumbled with approval and rushed to flank Aredric to peer inside. The room was empty. Aredric began to shake, his anger growing within him so much that he thrust his arms out to the side and pushed hard against the doorway, groaning through his clenched teeth. “Mother fucker damnit where are his family!”

His men ran quickly away to search the two insula one more time, returning less than a minute later with the disappointing news that the homes were indeed empty... of living souls. The intel used in the operation was precise except for one thing: Tiberius Lucius Carus owned three side by side insula, and once he learned that two of his guard killed his would be assasin Sigeric, and likely pushed forward the attack on his family, he moved his wife and children to a different insula- the third one, the one untouched by the assaulting mob. His wife and children could hear everything from their hiding place within the third home, huddled by three of Lucius Carus’s guard. They did not wimper or cry for their loved one, knowing they had to be strong and survive for his honor... but that did not stop fear from growing in their hearts.

Outside the other insula the remaining fifteen men of Aredric scattered, knowing the urban cohorts were on their way. It was assumed within the group that since Cohort guardsmen were involved in Sigeric’s death, they would assume the assasination plot was off with the death of the mercenary. The largest man in the group grabbed the bag with Carus in it and flung it over his shoulder. The group ran to the end of the street where another man stood holding a grate to the sewer open. The men began to climb down then shoved Carus in, closing the grate behind the last man. Groans began to come from within the bag.

They followed the predetermined path under the eternal city to where the sewers let out into the Tiber River. The smell was overwhelming, but they pressed onward. Sigeric had posted a man there with two small boats for their escape, and he was still there. Carus was dumped into the boat, oomphing as he landed, and Aredrics men ascended into the boats casting off without delay. It was pitch black as they rowed across and down the river to another man waiting with fresh horses.

“Make sure he’s still alive and make sure those ropes are tied tight. Then drag him up into tha cart and let’s be on our way.” Aredric sat for a minute, pulling his mail off and dropping it to the side.

“I don’t think one bath is enough to get this stink out,” another said as he sat next to Aredric.

“Yeah, your right. It’s going to take a week to get this out.” Aredric said. “How many men survived?”

The other looked around, counted, and then looked back at Aredric. “Not many, that was a tough fight. You were wise to call for all the men... only fifteen made it. If we would have gone in with only half the men, none of us would have come out.” He paused for a second reflecting on what had transpired.

Aredric nodded. “I had to do the same thing one through the throat. Oh, every man that was down dead or not. I wish it didn’t have to be like that but that’s the way of things. I’ll pray to the gods for their safe passage to the underworld.” He leapt to his feet grabbing his mail and tossing it over his shoulder. “LETS GO! WHAT IS TAKING SO LONG, HE’S ONE MAN! TIE HIM UP TOSS HIM IN!” Aredric shoved his men around motivating them to get a move on.

=== Farm house, A few miles NorthWest of Rome ===

Three men sat around a large wood table eating as they waited for their guests to arrive. Two men constantly watched over Carus with clubs to beat him senseless if he tried to escape again. The small farm house owned by Fulvio where they had taken refuge was full of farm equipment. They had tied him to a yoke left lying around making it hard for him to up and run away. Suddenly there was a knock at the door, the men hopped to their feet grabbing their weapons. Aredric nodded to one of his men who cracked the door, seeing who was outside. He opened it wide revealing one of the outside guard with two other men. Aredric turned, pulling the two strangers inside. “One is the client Clarus and the other is Dido Fulvio’s man.”

He tossed two big bags of money on the table. “1 million.”

Aredric untied the bag, peeking at his prize; he smirked knowing it was a big payday for him. “Any word from Rome about our men?”

“No.”

“Good enough.” Aredric moved the money off the table and sat back down. “Take some men and scout the road and the surrounding area. First sign of trouble I want to know, this shouldn’t take that long. Dido thank your boss, tell him I’ll count this when I get home I’m sure it’s all there.”

He turned his attention to Clarus as the men departed the room. “So shall we get this done?”

Clarus nodded and Aredric signaled to his men, who began to beat the Boar of the North with their clubs. They lifted a bloody Carus off the floor and dragged him to the table, throwing him face down while they grabbed his arms to restrain him. He fought valiantly to survive before, but seeing now that this was the end, he denied them any pleasure of a struggle. Like a dead fish, he lay there, praying to his ancestors to judge him justly. Clarus moved around the table, looking at Carus so helpless. “Truly all of this could have been avoided. You’d be in Rome, your family would be alive and you’d be going about your business. But you had to meddle in ours; you just couldn’t leave well enough alone could you.” Carus closed his eyes and bit his tongue.

Aredric walked over to the fire and wrapped an animal hide around a long iron spike. As he picked it up the tip glowed orange with heat. Carus could feel the heat and he wanted to kick behind him, but reminded himself only weaker men go out kicking and screaming. Aredric pulled the rod back and looked at Clarus, who leaned in to whisper into Carus’s eye. “You really should watch who you talk about.” Clarus’s looked up at Aredric, who rammed the red how iron rod all the way into Carus’s bowels. Lucius Carus couldn’t hold back the release of pain he felt as the super heated rod cauterized his insides. Even Aredric winced, and a pang of pity swept briefly over him as he watched Carus do all he could to keep his eyes and mouth closed through the torture.

Blood pooled at Aredrics feet, and the smell of burning flesh filled the room. One of his men ran toward the door and vomited before he could make it outside. “Hey pull it together!” Aredric yelled as he threw the rod back into the fire.

“Will your client be satisfied?” Aredric walked over to another table, dipping his hands in a pool of water to clean them.

“Yes he will, just as soon as you complete the job. Wait for night fall, and then finish it.“Clarus pulled his cloak over his head and walked out to his horse.

=== A Tavern in Rome, Many Hours Later ===

“Boss, Dido’s back.” The guard said peaking his head in Fulvio’s office.

“Alright I’m coming now,” He stood walking down the stairs and gesturing for Dido to follow him. He walked into a narrow passage way followed by two guards who waited a distance away.

“What happend?” He leaned against the wall and scratched his head.

“I went with the client to the location, your man from up north had him tied like a horse...”

“I don’t care about that, did he get the money?”

“Yea boss, I gave him the money just like you wanted.” Fulvio nodded then smiled at Dido whose head suddenly snapped back and his throat was cut by a man from behind.

=== A Villa in Rome, Later That Day ===

“Did everything go as planned?” the head guard asked.

“Yes does he want a report?” Clarus asked.

“You know he does, follow me I’ll take you to him now.” The two walked into the courtyard where the client and his family were watching a horse being groomed. The guard prefect stood next to Clarus till their employer saw them and dismissed everyone so only the three of them remained.

He sat looking at the two guards. “So tell me what happened!” Clarus recounted the story and the anguish in Carus’s eyes as he was unceremoniously put to death.

“You did a good job Clarus,,” He grabbed Clarus’s hand holding it firm as the guard tried to pull it away.

“Sir…gack!” The knife blade protruded from the side of Clarus’s neck. He stumbled backwards looking at the two men as his vision faded and he slide to the underworld.

Written By: Anonymous and Ferus Juventas
Edited By: Ferus Juventas
137 AD

... ouch....

Yeah, this is why I don't like being in Italia.

Well written, well played

I wouldnt have been anywhere near the italian peninsula if there hadn't been reasons keeping my character in Rome.

He'd have been home in the north farming, like he had told the Emperor he wanted to do.

yer, ouch for you though mate. This is why I like the military career, more killing but its honest and you know who your enemy is

Yeah I agree, whenever I'm in Rome my characters get involved in politics and turn evil. Keep me in the field, I stay honest... kinda.

HEY... Lucius was taking the 900 men of his legion home to Belgica to be farmers when Hadrianus stoped him, arrested him, and sent them to Rome. THEN Hadrianus died the next month. SURE as hell made me wish I had put off going home a few weeks. I would have gotten home safely.

Lucius is definatley a Vallite Wolf. He HATES Rome (the city), yet serves Rome (the empire) because it is his duty to protect the citizens of the empire.

HELL.. Lucius was aware for months he was being followed. BUT he thought it was because he was assumed a northern rebel here to cause dissent, so took no precautions to protect himself in an effort to look innocent of such claims. NEVER once suspected it was the rebels, who were SUPPOSED to be behaving. Definately too simple a character for Roman politics.

Rebellion never dies. Untill heads role.

ah...actually that was ur booty hole not ur head that rolled.

Well.. since Lucius never rebelled... my statement about heads rolling ending rebellions wasn't in reference to him. lol

The North is one gigantic circle jerk up there