Tauro

ATHENS, ITANIA

Summer, 1E15

Tauro was a farmer in the fertile farmlands between Athens and Montego that comprised the majority of inland Itania. He grew tomatoes, lettuce, cabbage, peppers, courgettes, herbs and spices. Everything he grew flourished under his care in his gardens and there were beautiful cypress and stone pine trees that decorated the immediate lands around his home. The stone pines grew naturally scattered throughout his lands whilst he’d planted the cypress trees to intentionally form a path leading to his front door. It started from the dirt road that led to the stables for his horses, serving as a sort of driveway where it turned away from the gravel road that led into the town. Taking this road, the Itanian farmer made his way along towards the city of Athens where he planned to conduct business that day with his wife’s family.

His wife, Francesca Medici, was stunningly beautiful, even when compared to the women of Rome, though they had no children between them. Tauro was twenty three years old and he’d inherited the farm where the pair took up residence from his father; he had been told as a child that it had been in their family for seven generations. The pair had been happily married since Tauro was 15 years of age. She was the daughter of a wealthy trader and their marriage had been arranged by their fathers in the hopes of strengthening their respective businesses. Her brothers conducted business with Tauro and he sold them the excess of his yields. They took the fruit of his labours to sell in Legion to the North or in Rome on the Eastern bank of the river that separated their countries. The Itanian traders were prohibited from travelling via the River Rome by the Roman Merchant’s Guild; they commanded the waters and were backed by the full strength of the Roman Empire’s Navy.

The Romans used their river to transport goods quickly and directly to and from Arkenhaal; the capitol of the Dwarfish Kingdom of Arken. The dwarfs did not grow their own food and there was no wildlife to be found in their heavily industrialised lands. Oil rigs drilled deep into the fertile Augen Valley and dwarfish miners dug strip-mines beneath the surface of that land. In the Augen Mountains they delved deep into the earth, mining whole towns under the ground and connecting them via an elaborate system of highways and roads. These were nothing in comparison to the paved roads and aqueducts that stretched across the Roman Empire like veins, however, though the dwarvish mining towns were decadent and elaborate in their own right.

Tauro had never been to the Kingdom of the Dwarves, or even beyond the borders of his own country for that matter. He’d heard of these wondrous things from Francesca’s father who occasionally reminisced on the days long before he’d handed the business over to his sons. The aged trader had made his fair share of illegal wealth through the lucrative smuggler’s trade, only legitimising his legacy after handing it down to his eldest son, Paolo. The first-born Itanian of the Medici family was just as suave a trader as his father; he quickly took the foreign markets by storm upon receiving his father’s trading company as part of his inheritance. He paid his fellow employees fairly while continuing to sell his goods at the competitive prices the Medici Trading Company was known for.

The Medici Trading Co. had started as a front for smuggling the exports of Itania to the dwarfs of Arken. Francesca’s father and many other traders did this without going through the Roman Merchant’s Guild, essentially cutting them out as middlemen and eliminating the cost of Rome’s high fees and importation taxes. The Roman Emperor annually taxed the Merchants Guild for their net income each year and the Guild in turn taxed the traders who went through them to access Rome’s river transportation. The Merchant’s Guild held a vast majority of whatever power the Emperor didn’t lay rights to and they maintained a stranglehold on the country’s infrastructure. There were well-known members of the Merchants Guilds in public office who openly assisted the Guild in its cause with their political power.

Rome was a country of hedonism whose greed knew no bounds, though Tauro did not bother himself with the problems of the world. He was a humble farmer, the third generation of his bloodline. Giving burnt offerings to the Roman gods and praying to them at night, Tauro was fully devout in his duty and devotion to them. Caius was the Roman God of Hedonism and father of the titan-gods of Rome and Itania. Born of the god, Caius, the Emperor Solis of Rome was his own flesh and blood; a Titan, the son of a god. There were many gods in the world; the Ahglorians in the North worshipped Hoog, the god of Intoxication, while in Legion they worshipped Ordeus, the god of Knowledge and Order. The elves were more spiritual in nature and believed in cosmic energies, and in the East the skies were dark in the demon-lands.

Though they were divine by the nature of their conception, Titans were relatively common in Rome where the God of Hedonism had been quick to spread his seed without a moment’s thought before he was killed by the mighty Brutus in the age of Myth, freeing Itania from the Roman God at the cost of his own life. Second generation Titans were no more remarkable than an elf and by the third generation, the offspring returned to the mortal vulnerability of their forefathers. Some Titans had inspired cult followings through their good deeds whilst others used their claims of divinity for more selfish pursuits. Tauro worshipped Adfectus, the titan-god of Compassion. Adfectus lived a humble life in the west, taking up residence in a parish in central Itania. He tended to the gardens and sheltered the homeless and poor within his temple. Tauro gave offerings to the church and paid his respect to the god who helped his people in their time of need.

It had been an exceptionally hot summer that year and Tauro’s skin tanned like leather whilst he worked in the fields under the scorching heat of the southern sun. In the spring he’d tilled the land and sowed seeds of many varieties throughout his farm. In the Autumn he would reap his harvests and sell the excess to Paolo’s trader outpost in the city of Athens. Paolo’s thriving business relied on selling the bulk of his product to Itanian merchants who would then try to sell it on to their counterparts in Rome to transport North via the River Rome for sale in the wider world market. The dwarfs of Arken and the Kingdom of Legion both paid dearly for the expensive herbs and spices exclusive to the Itanian countryside. Meanwhile Rome sold the enchanted wildberry wine native to the eastern elf-lands of Gilan at extortionate prices to the Legion aristocracy.

King Louis Delaunay II of Legion charged his own importation fees and although they were not nearly as bad as those in Rome, they still took their toll on the merchants. Traders, as well as the farmers— whose livelihoods relied solely on the income— could do nothing to protect themselves from the taxation of the State and so, without any other option, they raised the price of their goods. The economy was disorienting at best of times in those days; the wealthy controlled the wages of living as well as the cost of living conditions and the people tried their best to get by. As a result, prices were ever increasing and taxes were only rising with the passage of time. Itania had its own King and he was a fair ruler, greatly loved by his people for his modesty and simple life.

The Itanian King, Valencia Molinari, resided within the comfort of his small estate in the port town of Eon on the western Gold Coast. Along with gold, there were also salt deposits throughout the western half of the country where the land was dry and weathered. In the east of Itania the countryside was rich and fertile all along the riverbank as well as in the heartlands of the country. Tauro laboured all through summer up until the first frost of winter. Putting aside the bulk of his harvest for storage throughout the year, he took the remainder and stowed it away in his wagon. Tauro walked beside the cart as it ambled down the main road into Athens, guiding the horse that merrily hauled the wagon along in the cool winter breeze. Upon his arrival in the capitol city of his country, Tauro sought out the Medici Trading Company on the south-western outskirts.

Making his way through the cramped squalor of the sprawling Roman streets, the humble farmer found his wife’s family trader company in the form of a small apartment within an insula*. There was a shoddy sign hung outside the entrance to the Medici Company’s apartment entrance within the block of flats. Francesca’s father had originally bought the property as a cheap source of storage for the company and it had quickly become his base of operations. Tauro greeted his brother-in-law upon entry within the lobby of his warehouse headquarters. The room was rather bare; there was a desk and service counter as well as some chairs, but beyond that the room was devoid of any decoration. A door in the back led into the records room; the warehouse was in an adjacent apartment to the building. The company had expanded in Paolo’s early years and they rented a second apartment, tearing down the interior walls to form a single room storage facility.

*In Roman, as well as Itanian, architecture, an insula (plural insulae) was a kind of apartment building that housed most of the urban citizen population, including ordinary people of lower- or middle-class status, and all but the wealthiest from the upper-middle class.

The company also had several properties within Rome where they directly conducted trade with the Roman merchants without having to pay the cost of importation fees. Paolo was quick to business and they struck a deal within five minutes of the humble farmer’s arrival. That was not the end of their business however; the two were steadfast friends and with their trade concluded they engaged in small talk about their day to day lives. Tauro was busy in the farmlands and Paolo had a business to maintain in town so there was very little time left after their work for the two to ever meet up.

Paolo was twenty eight, the eldest-born son of his father as well as the primary inheritor of his small fortune. His father, Atticus Medici, died at the ripe old age of 42; it was drawn nigh on four years ago that day. Paolo had received the business and sixty percent of his acquired wealth whilst the the remaining 40% was divided amongst his other children. Paolo was his favourite son and Francesca his only daughter; together, the two had received a greater part of his fortune than the others. Francesca had been given 1,500 gold coins as part of Atticus Medici’s will. She kept that money saved away in a bank in Rome, earning interest whilst it collected dust in an underground vault. Paolo lived a much more lavish lifestyle whilst he maintained the company his father gave him as a parting gift; he drank wine by the bottle and consumed many bottles throughout any given day.

He was not an offensive character; quite the opposite by far. Paolo was full of mirth and spread laughter everywhere he went. The alcoholic was a cheerful fellow and he was very charismatic, quick to laugh and always sincere. A functioning drunk, he ran the company rather efficiently himself and oversaw most of the business on his own. His two younger brothers worked for him, their names were Paul and Isaac; Paul oversaw the business front in the city of Rome on the other side of the river and Isaac worked for Paolo in Athens. Paolo bought up wares in bulk and delivered them to Isaac to sell locally as well as ship to Paul in Rome, who then went on to sell their products to Roman merchants. He did this without having to pay the importation tax as he was a legal citizen of Rome. This was how they’d made their father’s smuggling trade a legitimate business scheme and they were extremely successful on the market.

With their business concluded and the small talk drawn to an end, Tauro bid his intoxicated brother-in-law farewell and invited him to dinner that evening in remembrance of his father. It was only noon, but Francesca asked that her brother appear sober to the dinner. He set the bottle down and promised that he would not drink in honour of his deceased father. Isaac and Paul were also invited and Tauro asked that he relay the message to them. It had been rather spur of the moment; Francesca had seen it as a sign that the harvest trip had fallen on the anniversary of her father’s death four years ago. On that note, Tauro bid Paolo a final farewell and left the apartment space with a sack of gold coins as payment for his crops that now rest in the adjoining storage facility.

With the cart now empty of its contents, Tauro mounted his horse and rode it back to his farm outside the city of Athens. The countryside was relatively flat though the land was hilly further inland. In the North the land was mountainous in the Svanean Kingdom. The Kingdom of Svaneiol was a poor one; the King there taxed the hash his people sold to the aristocrats of Legion. He received a minor income off the trade at the cost of hash traders making a very minimal wage after tax. During his brief conversation with Paolo at the trading outpost, he spoke of expanding the Medici Trading Company throughout Northern Aerbon, possibly within the Svanean borders to gain low-cost access to the dwarfish trade routes in Arken as well as a closer base to the Legion marketplace.

After some time, Tauro was finally home; he passed the cypress trees leading up to his porch and opened the front door of his humble farmhouse. Upon entry he came to find his wife being penetrated from behind by Flavius, the Roman Titan-God of Pleasure. Tauro stood in the doorway for a moment, flabbergasted by the act of adultery being committed by his wife with Flavius, the demigod son of the God of Hedonism, Caius. Flavius didn’t even notice Tauro opening the door over the loud moans coming from his wife. Francesca gripped the titan’s shoulders tight as she orgasmed and Tauro was struck with a blinding rage, rivalled only by the stabbing pain of betrayal. He rushed into the kitchen where Flavius pleasured her upon the dining table and Tauro took up their great cleaver, slicing through the nape of the demigod’s neck. Flavius gasped as blood poured out of his neck and Francesca screamed in horror even as he came inside of her. The titan writhed on the ground for a moment, chocking as blood spilled out of him and pooled on the kitchen floor all around his dying body. His body seized for a moment after his death and then he was still.

ROME

Spring, 1E16

“You stand before the court accused of the incomprehensibly heinous crime of murdering of a god; how do you plead?” the Roman judge peered down at the Itanian farmer before him. The man seemed like a modest man, though his gaze was icy cold and he gave his answer in his stare before he’d even uttered a single word.

“Vaffanculo*, and fuck your whore gods too.” Tauro spoke in a harsh tone before the Roman guards on either side of him beat their helpless chained prisoner to the ground, kicking and spitting on the farmer before dragging him back to his feet.

*Itanian swear, offensive, translates literally to "fuck your ass" but loosely translates to "go fuck yourself"

“I hope you know you'll suffer for the consequence of your words, neverminding the actions that you've yet to be punished for.” the judge sneered, violently motioning to the guards who proceeded to beat him yet again. The gathered jury was in an uproar at the spectacle they bore witness to- nothing like it had ever shaken the Roman society and nothing would shake it so viciously to the core again.

“You can die along with the fetid gods you serve…” Tauro coughed, spitting his blood upon the floor of the court even as the Roman guards proceeded to drag him away, “I won’t rest until I’ve sent every last one of those fickle bastards back to the afterlife where they belong.”

“You’ll come to regret those words… You’re not the first man to think he was greater than the gods, though you might be the last.” the judge snarled in response, grinning maliciously at the bloodied and battered Itanian man before him. So it was that the judge cleared his throat before sentencing Tauro to the gladiatorial arena with a debt of fifty thousand gold. Although paying the debt would essentially free him, along with absolving him of his crimes; the price was beyond extortion and it would take several gladiators multiple lifetimes to pay off such a steep fee. The average amount of gold a fresh gladiator could initially expect to see was maybe a couple coins if they were especially skilled; the majority never saw more than a handful of coppers per match before they inevitably died off. So it was that the Roman soldiers dragged the chained farmer away, taking him to the Arena where he would await his trial by fire alongside dozens of fellow gladiatorial prisoners. The lowest-tier gladiators fought to the death in team-based battles whilst higher tier gladiators fought for promotions into the ranked leagues to participate in deadly tournaments that were to the death, though the winnings made it a lucrative opportunity, albeit a risky one.

Throwing Tauro into one of the many thousands of cells beneath the grand coliseum in the heart of the city centre, the guards left him to his own devices to bide his time until the next event. Here he might capture the interest of lanista*, who would bid for him and pay part of his debt to the Roman Empire. It was the only hope he had of regaining his freedom, if indeed he had a chance at all, though it was long-shot at best. His match would take place the following morning, giving him some time to sit in his cell and reflect on the recent events that had led him to this place, allowing his hopelessness, hurt, and anger to fester into a burning hatred deep in the depths of his stubborn soul. It was a slow process, though over time it would inevitably consume him.

*In Roman gladiator culture, it was commonplace for lanistae to bid for new gladiators to purchase ownership over them to build teams and raise top-class fighters. They bought and sold gladiators amongst themselves regularly, much like a human stock-market. When a gladiator was bought or rented from the state he was owned by the lanista until his debt was paid off via earning enough winnings from arena matches, or the rental period expired- then they were returned to the state to perform until sold or rented out to another lanista to profit in the ranked gladiatorial leagues.

Several hours passed by before guards eventually made their rounds to serve the prisoners their supper before dimming the torchlight for their bedtime. A guard approached Tauro’s cell and slipped a tray through a small opening beneath the door, only just large enough to fit the tray through. Taking his frugal meal that consisted of no more than a mysterious soup with a stale roll of bread, he quickly scarfed it down, practically chugging the soup and destroying the roll in mere seconds. Upon finishing his food, the newly-imprisoned farmer took to his cot and fell into a fitful sleep; trying his hardest to sleep soundly through the night so as to be well-rested for his upcoming introductory match. The time passed by and he was awakened to a great ringing clang as the Roman soldiers who guarded that underground prison made rounds, clanging their swords and heavy iron batons against the rows of iron bars that comprised the cells of that wretched prison.

The gladiators groaned and dragged themselves out of their cots as they readied themselves for yet another day in that place. Tauro was brought out of his cell by a troop of eight guards as they summoned him from his cell along with a handful of his neighbours. Following their escorts, each gladiator was taken by squads of four, though Tauro had received extra guards for the brutality of his crime. Though it was unbeknownst to the Itanian farmer, word of his arrest and conviction had quickly spread throughout the capitol and they were already calling him Tauro the Titan-Slayer. The crowds were torn in two regarding their opinion of him; some were hoping for him to suffer a brutal death for his crime against the gods, though others saw great potential in him as a gladiator and hoped that he would live up to their expectations. Indeed, there was a great deal of interest in that morning’s match and Tauro walked upon the Arena’s battleground to find the coliseum packed beyond the maximum capacity as the spectators clamoured about in an attempt to witness a historic battle of the ages.

Stepping foot upon the coliseum’s battleground, Tauro was greeted by the mixed applause of the excited spectators; some cheered for him whilst others shrieked curses and other obscenities at the calm farmer. He stood alongside a force of twenty-five fellow prisoners and they were matched against a similarly-sized host of their opposition. An announcer greeted the gathered masses and introduced the two armies before ordering the two teams to arm themselves and take to their respective sides; the rival team was attired in red whilst Tauro and his kinsmen were outfitted in blue. They took up arms from the armouries located on either side of the stadium; red and blue flags hung from both ends of the stadium, signifying the sides as the spectators clamoured about in their desperation to get a better view of the eminent battle. Tauro took up a worn a rusted iron gladius and a battered wooden round-shield before withdrawing towards the blue team’s staging area. Other prisoners took up spathas, pikes, spears, clubs, and maces.

As the last of the slaves armed themselves with the standard-issue gladiator gear of the state and readied themselves for battle, the announcer gave the signal and the match commenced. The frontlines of both sides rushed towards one another and threw themselves straight into the heat of the chaos, the majority dying within minutes as they fell upon the pikes and spears of the defenders on both sides. A couple of heavier contenders marched forth and took on small groups of the weaker men who banded together in the face of such monstrous warriors. Tauro fell upon his enemies with all of the might of a raging bull. He thrust his spatha between the ribs of his opponents, ripping it out in a bloody spray of gore as he hacked and slashed his way into the midst of the battle. His opposition came to flee before him after seeing the display of his divine might as he slaughtered all who stood against him without effort.

The crowds chanted his name as they bore witness to his rampage, beating down and destroying mighty gladiators as well as annihilating the weaker bands of men who unsuccessfully tried to swarm him only to suffer a swift death by his hand. Slaughtering the Reds like sheep at the slaughter, Tauro rallied his Blue kinsmen and swung his blade into the neck of a hulking colossus, nearly hewing the warrior’s head from his body. Instead the head hung limply in a disjointed manner where his corpse writhed upon the ground beneath Tauro’s boot as he shouted his warcry before crushing the skull. Two small Red swordsmen threw themselves at Tauro even as he basked in his triumph, though he slew them both with a single swing of his blade. The remaining Reds fled before his might and his Blue brethren slaughtered them like sheep; with their enemies eliminated the match was concluded and the announcer pronounced the Blue Team victorious.

Returning their weapons to the racks that comprised the coliseum’s armoury, the survivors of the battle made their way back through the arched entrance into their side’s barracks where the guards took them back to their cells. There were a few amongst the remnants of the Blue Team who were taken aside however, bound and chained before being given their own escort . Tauro was amongst these men as they were taken out of the underground prison and away to an auction house within one of the upper levels of the coliseum itself. A group of lanistae made themselves comfortable as they sipped upon lavish wines and ate away at a golden platter of the elvish wildberries of Gilan alongside imperial cheeses and Itanian bread. Five of Tauro’s fellows from the battlefield were joined alongside him and the lanistae continued to converse amongst themselves without pausing at the arrival of the men, concluding their talk only before the bidding began.

One by one the prisoners were brought forth by their captors to be examined by the lanistae as the auctioneer took their bids. Two of the men were Itanian like Tauro; the rest of their group was comprised of a Roman thief, a Svanean smuggler, and a captured Nardic pirate from the Southern Isles. The lanistae had been particularly interested in the Nardic pirate as he was a hulking brute of a man, weathered and worn by the sea but also chiselled and strengthened by it. He was bought in full by one smug lanista who paid a hefty thousand gold coins for the southern seaman. When it came to pass that Tauro was brought forth the lanistae hesitated momentarily as the auctioneer introduced him with a minimum bid of five thousand gold; ten percent of the total purchasing price, as was mandatory when dealing with the state.

When Tauro stepped forward to initiate the bidding the lanistae were rather hesitant as the auctioneer called out to initiate the bidding. Five thousand gold was enough to buy an entire amateur team with the chance of raising at least a couple of legends amongst the lot. Tauro was priced at the cost of an entire team and he’d only fought in his first battle; it was rightly expected that the lanistae would be incredulous even under the best of circumstances. As things were however, one amongst them was willing to take the risk on the amateur gladiator; an older lanista in his early fifties made a bid for the man who was already dubbed “The Titan-Slayer” by his fans after just a single match in his career. Calling the initial bid, he stood unopposed and waited for the auction to conclude as the auctioneer ended the final sale of the night, renting Tauro to the man for 5,000 gold. Tauro’s new owner took him to the side as did the other lanistae as they introduced themselves to their new prospective fighters.

Tauro’s new lanista introduced himself as Tertius Sornatius, a rather wealthy and prominent lanista who was a local of the capitol. He owned several amateur arenas throughout the Roman Empire and even a couple in the capitol. Tertius saw Tauro as a prime investment, though it was a rather risky purchase; the rookie gladiator had a fee of 50,000g. It could be paid off in monthly instalments of 5% of the total price, however there was a mandatory minimum 50% down-payment. So it was that each gladiator sold was rented for the entirety of a season at 10% of the total debt; a lanista could opt to extend their contract and continue to pay the state's rental fee in addition to a re-signing fee for the next season, either until the gladiator’s debt was paid, sold to another lanista, or returned to the state. Tertius saw a lot of potential in Tauro and told his new warrior that he could go on to be great.

“Of course, you’ll have to work your way to the top from the bottom up, though your reputation greatly precedes you. It shouldn’t be too difficult for you to work your way up the ranks and earn a couple league promotions. Maybe you might even have what it takes to get bought off by a professional team and work your way towards freedom. You have the look of determination, stubborn like a bull. That’ll serve you well in the arena; don’t disappoint me boy.” Tertius dismissed Tauro and he was taken away by his guards to be transported to Tertius’ gladiatorial insula in the city centre.