RomanQuest

by Herbie Brennan

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” says the wild-eyed woman earnestly. “Caligula set standards of government that have been an inspiration for politicians ever since. Why do you think the world’s in such a mess?”

  “Hadn’t noticed,” you tell her.

  “Take my word for it,” she says. “Your world as well as mine will be a better place if you do something about Caligula.”

  “What do you want me to do?” you ask. “Kill him?”

  The sibyl gives a little laugh. “Good heavens no - that would make you no better than he was. I want you to go back in time before his birth and stop his parents ever meeting. There’s a particular point when you can manage that quite easily. If his parents don’t meet, he never gets born. It’s as simple as that.”

  She fixes you with a gimlet eye. “But we’ve stood here talking long enough. Will you do it?”

  Last chance to back out (politely) at 80. But if you really want to go ahead with this nonsense, you can take your chances at 20.

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  121

  “Wrong!” exclaims Caligula delightedly. He looks thoughtfully into the middle distance. “Minced up and fed to lions, I think.”

  After which painful experience, you can make your way to 13.

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  122

  Why this was marked on your map is a mystery. These buildings are Rome’s main grain stores, locked and guarded twenty four hours a day. There’s no way you can get in even if you wanted to - and why would you want to just to stare at a load of grain?

  Return muttering to yourself to the tourist map at 25 and select another destination.

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  123

  “Look,” you tell the guard patiently, “I just want a quick look inside in case the Sibyl happens to be hiding in there.”

  “Sacre bleu!” he exclaims and hurls himself upon you.

  “Sacred blue?” muses the Mercury phone in your ear. “Did the Gaul say ‘sacred blue’? What a meaningless turn of phrase - no wonder we conquered them so easily.”

  But you have no time for these philosophical and linguistic musings. Having lost your chance of a first strike you’ve got a difficult fight on your hands whatever Mercury might think. The guard has 60 Life Points. His sword strikes at +5 and his breast-plate will deduct 5 points from every damage blow scored against him. If he happens to throw a seven at any time during combat, he will invoke the name of the Gaulish hero Asterix and automatically score double damage with that blow. Should you be killed in this fight, go to 13. Should you survive, you may enter the shuttered villa at 82.

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  124

  It’s like the high point of a movie. Time slows. The trident sails gracefully through the air. The expression on Caligula’s mad face changes slowly from glee to horror. The trident comes closer and closer to his chest. Sunlight glints on its three wicked barbs. There is a stunned silence in the auditorium. You seem to register close-ups of shocked face after shocked face.

  Time speeds up to normal. The speeding trident reaches the royal box. Caligula screams and clutches his chest.

  The trident misses.

  Your mouth falls open. You can’t believe it.

  “Traitor!” screams Caligula. “Assassin! Guards, do your duty!”

  But as armed men pour into the arena, you suddenly find yourself surrounded by a milling phalanx of gladiators, both amateur and professional.

  “Keep your head down,” one whispers. “We’ve no love for the Emperor. With a bit of luck we can get you out of here!”

  There is a moment of confusion with much shouting, jostling and some swordplay before you find yourself in a gloomy little stone flagged chamber underneath the auditorium. Two gladiators are with you.

  “The boys will keep the Praetorians busy for a while,” one tells you soberly. “Your best chance is to get up into the auditorium and mingle with the crowd. There’s so many at the games today they’ll never spot you. When you get there, we’ve a job for you.”

  “We want you to find Cassius Chaerea,” hisses the other. “When you do, give him this.” He hands you a wicked looking dagger, handle first. “Careful,” he warns, “the blade is poisoned. One prick is instant death.”

  “How will I know him?” you ask urgently.

  “Can’t miss him,” says the gladiator. “He’s tribune of Caligula’s personal Praetorian guard!”

  A man to be avoided I’d have thought, but you can make up your own mind about that when the time comes. Meanwhile get off to 64 and for heaven’s sake don’t draw any more attention to yourself.

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  125

  This is rather impressive. Four Corinthian pillars front the entrance to this temple building and as you climb the broad steps your eye catches a Latin inscription which swims and wavers for a moment before the Mercury Phone in your ear transforms it into English:

  TEMPLE OF THE GODDESS

  FORTUNA AUGUSTA

  Built in 3 b.c. by the city magistrate

  Marcus Tullius

  Whose body now lies buried outside the

  Porta Stabia

  as a mark of respect from a grateful citizenry.

  WARNING

  POSITIVELY NO ADMITTANCE

  WITHOUT A SIBYLLINE PASS

  If you happen to have a Sibylline Pass about your person, you can enter the temple at 72. If not, you’d better return to 150 and select another destination. Unless, of course, you want to ignore the warning at 31

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  126

  “Nice meeting you, your Bootness,” you call over your shoulder as you take off out of the temple like a hunting cheetah with its tail on fire.

  But will you make it out of the Imperial Palace? Get set for an Absolutely Anything Roll. If it kills you, turn to 13. If it succeeds, you can select another destination from your map at 25. If it fails, you’ve got about thirty seconds before a couple of guards catch up with you and drag you kicking and screaming to 38 for not bowing to the Emperor.

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  127

  “You’re right again!” screams Caligula. “This is becoming very boring. Not to mention the fact that I’m fed up trying to think of stupid questions to ask you. I think we’ll try one more and if you get that right, I’ll give you a little prize and we’ll call it a day. Now let’s see what the question will be ...”

  He begins a peculiar little dance around the room, pirouetting like a ballerina. “What’s the distance in Roman stadia from the Earth to the star system Sirius? No, too easy. How many men were killed in the Punic Wars? No, everybody knows that. What was the second favourite food of the plebians at the time of the foundation of - no, no, no!”

  He stops abruptly. “I’ve got it! What was Jove called when he lived in Greece? Now that’s really tricky. Was he Ulysses? Was he Heracles? Was he Pericles? Was he Aristotle? Was he Zeus?”

  Oh wow, that’s a real mind-bender. But maybe he means it when he says it will be the last. If you think it was Ulysses, turn to 114. If you think it was Heracles, turn to 104. If you think it was Pericles, turn to 81. If you think it was Aristotle, turn to 74. If you think it was Zeus, turn to 33.

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  128

  “Well done!” Marcus exclaims. “Looks like we don’t have anything to teach you here. Consider yourself a fully fledged gladiator with all that entails.”

  The most important thing it entails is that you can add +1 to the damage caused by any weapon you happen to be using and you can ev
en add +4 to any damage you score when you’re not actually using a weapon, which could come in very useful if ever you lose your gear. Now get back to 150 and select another destination before you get into another scrap here.

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  129

  This is rather tastefully done. The building is impressive, but not overbearing and the architectural style concentrates on simplicity. There is a statue of a plump, kindly-looking man of middle age near the central tomb. You walk across and look at the one-word inscription:

  AVGVSTVS

  Somehow this single word seems more moving than a full-scale panegyric. You sit down for a moment on the nearby stone bench and stare thoughtfully towards the tomb, philosophically contemplating the mysteries of Life and Death, as poignant in Ancient Rome as they are in your own time.

  There is the faint rustle of a linen toga as someone sits down beside you. “I sometimes wonder if it was all worthwhile,” he sighs.

  “What was all worthwhile?” you ask.

  “My life.”

  You turn to find yourself looking at a plump, kindly-looking man of middle age. There’s something terribly familiar about him.

  You glance back at the statue near the tomb, then at the man beside you. The hair on the back of your neck begins to rock and roll. You look back at the statue again to make sure.

  “You’re ... the Emperor Augustus!” you gasp.

  The man nods. “Yes.”

  “But you’re dead!”

  He nods again. “I know. But the Senate stupidly voted to make me a god so I can pop back from time to time to see how things are getting on. Very depressing.”

  “Is it?” You’re not quite sure this is actually happening. He looks solid and real, not at all like a ghost.

  Augustus sighs again. “I should never have established the monarchy. I was always a Republican at heart, you know. The trouble was I won so many battles the Senate insisted on giving me power.”

  “You seem to have used it wisely,” you venture, having read about Augustus in the Brief Guide. “They call you the Father of the Nation.”

  “Kind of you to say so,” Augustus smiles wanly. “But even if that’s true, look what happened.”

  “What happened?” you ask.

  “Well, there was such scheming about the succession. I suspect my dear wife poisoned half the country to make sure the throne went to that son of hers by her first marriage. She certainly poisoned me when I looked like hanging on too long. All to get Tiberius into power. Dreadful child. And he grew up to be a dreadful man. He was a useless Emperor. Spent all his time on Capri drinking too much wine and chasing women round the flower beds. The country went to wrack and ruin. At the time I couldn’t imagine anything worse, but I was wrong of course.”

  “Were you?”

  “Well, what do you think?” Augustus asks expansively. “Tiberius was stupid enough to adopt his nephew Caligula as his son, which put Caligula next in line. Anybody could have told him that was asking for trouble.”

  “You mean Caligula ....?”

  “Had him smothered with a pillow. At least so they say. Even if it’s not true, Caligula’s murdered plenty since. And when Caligula goes, that stammering uncle of his, Claudius, will become Emperor. Very scholarly man, but books aren’t much good when you’re running an Empire. What you need’s experience - particularly of war. And when they get rid of Claudius, Nero’s due to come to the throne. Nero! Can you imagine it? Looks like Peter Ustinov, mad as a hatter, kills Christians by the thousand and then burns down the whole of Rome. It doesn’t bear thinking about.”

  “You can see what’s going to happen in the future?” you ask, amazed.

  “That’s the great frustration about being dead,” Augustus tells you. “You can see all of history, but you can do nothing about any of it. I gather that barmy Sibyl wants you to do something about Caligula?”

  “Is she barmy?”

  “They all are. It comes from breathing volcanic fumes - they do it so they can prophecy. Filthy habit.”

  “So you don’t think I should help her with Caligula?”

  Augustus raises an eyebrow. “I most certainly do. But you’ve already failed to stop his being born, thanks to upsetting one of my fellow deities. So the only thing you can do now is make sure he’s assassinated.” He leans forward and pats your knee. “And the only day that’s actually possible is today.”

  “Today?” you echo.

  Augustus nods. “You’d better move fast.” He stands up. “The password is Hadrian. Remember that. Nice talking with you.”

  With which he turns and strides through the nearest wall to disappear from sight.

  Leaving you to make your way shakily back to 25 to select another destination.

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  130

  “Tutene atque cuius exercitus?” you demand harshly through the Mercurial translator. “You and whose army?”

  With which you take the Via Bellum (Road to War) by grabbing your dice and hurling yourself upon him.

  The man is so surprised by your reaction that he drops his net.

  Which is maybe just as well since it’s going to be hard enough fighting somebody armed with a spear (that hits at +3, incidentally). Your opponent has 30 Life Points. If you successfully cash in his chips, you can take the spear and the net before heading triumphantly to 40. With the spear, you can now hit at +3 until you find a better weapon. With the net any throw of 9 or more you make during combat scores no damage, but holds your opponent immobile for three combat rounds while you pound away at him without fear of retaliation. But this may all be academic if he kills you since there’s no way you can take anything to 13.

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  131

  A young man in a Greek slave tunic walks across to you as you enter.

  “Get your gear off,” he tells you cheerfully. “All of it.”

  You blink. “Pardon?”

  “I said get your gear off,” he repeats. “This is the apodyterium, the undressing room. If you’re going to the baths, you go nude. If you’re heading for the Jactus game, you can collect your togs at the door.”

  Funny people these Romans. If you’re wearing clothes, take them off. If not, pick up your things at the door. But do try not to get confused, because a nude game of Jactus doesn’t bear thinking about. The door to the north is marked as CXXXVI, the one to the south as CXVIII.

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  132

  “That’s what you get for poking your nose in where it isn’t wanted,” you mutter as you make for the arch into the Circus.

  But your arms are seized violently from behind as two burly soldiers drag you off to the Mamertine Prison, where they dump you unceremoniously in a filthy cell, lock the door and throw away the key.

  “That’s what you get for murdering an innocent Circus attendant,” one of them mutters as they walk away.

  You pick yourself up and look around, wondering about your chances of escape. There’s a small window fairly high up and the bars look rusted. Besides which, how difficult could a Roman lock be for someone with futuristic skills?

  Make an Absolutely Anything Roll to find out whether you succeed in escaping through the window. If the roll kills you, go to 13. If it fails, you can make another roll to see if you can pick the lock. If that roll kills you, go to 13. If both rolls fail, you’ll eventually starve to death in this filthy cell. When that happens, go to 13. If either roll succeeds, creep shame-facedly back to your map at 25 and select another destination. And try to control yourself in future.

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  133

  “Wrong!” exclaims Caligula delig
htedly. He looks thoughtfully into the middle distance. “Boiled in oil, I think.”

  After which painful experience, you can make your way to 13.

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  134

  “What are you running for?” screams Caligula. “Stop that young person at once!”

  At which point everybody in the Royal Box falls upon you with their swords.

  One way of stopping you, I suppose. Go to 13.

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  135

  A huge man with a chest like a pigeon strides up to you. “You’re late!” he barks.

  You blink. “Late? But I’m only here to see if I can find the Sib -”

  “No excuses!” barks the man through a menacing 5 o’clock shadow. “Can’t make excuses when you’re in the arena! Come with me.”

  “Hey, wait a minute-” you protest as he grabs your arm, but his fingers close like a vise and he drags you into the building you have come to investigate.