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The backbone of the Roman superpower.
A God to be, at least for one day.
How to turn Money into Free Speech, Roman style.
I knew she was trouble the moment she walked into my Forum.
Freedom tethers on the balance between Tyranny and Chaos.
You can turn the tide.
So, this was going to be the day he died.
She closed her mouth, trying to form the right words. Her eyes shut for the last time, promises unsaid.
Nightfall offered the rider no solace.
If you spend most of your day carrying grain and bricks for them and another, you are a porter and a porter is what you are going to be
I leave to catch butterflies.
Aeneid crossed the atrium, lights appearing as she walked through, some of the strangest vegetation wasting away as she closed in. There were many exists; she picked the one most familiar to her.
“Who is your champion?”
The reluctant darkness returned the hills of Rome to the light
She was warned. She was given an explanation. Neverthless, she persisted.
All these curses. All these offerings. For whom?
No help was coming from the Underworld.