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RomanQuest Page 2


  The room itself seems to be a dressing room, judging by the open wardrobes and the clothes strewn about the floor. Doubtless the slaves will be in later to tidy up, but for the moment, except for yourself, the room is empty.

  You check your belongings and discover that although your weapons and armour have disappeared, you still have the Brief Guide to Ancient Rome and the Mercury Phone is still sticking in your ear. It’s not much to help you find the wedding party in time to stop Germanicus and Agrippina getting married, but at least it’s something. You decide the best thing is to get on with it as quickly as possible.

  There are two doors in this little room, one in the north wall numbered XXXII, the other in the west wall numbered XVIII.

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  9

  “Wrong!” exclaims Caligula delightedly. He looks thoughtfully into the middle distance. “Drowned in a vat of steaming porridge, I think.”

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

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  10

  “No way!” you tell him, glancing around for an escape route. The Mercury Phone seems to be a two way translation device because your comment comes out as “Nullo modo!” But instead of hanging around to find out if he’s understood, you take to your heels.

  At once the crowd begins to boo and out of the corner of your eye you can see a forest of thumbs pointing down.

  You make for the archway where the priests came in, but two other armed men move to block your exit.

  You screech to a halt. “This is no way to behave at a religious occasion!” you scream as the character with the spear catches up with you, having dropped his net somewhere in the chase.

  One of the burly men blocking your way gives you a pitying look. “This ain’t no religious occasion,” the simultaneous translator growls in your ear as it picks up his words. “This is the Roman Games and you’ve just been made a gladiator!”

  This definitely wasn’t in your contract with the Sibyl, but what can you do about that now? As well as the clown with the +3 spear, you are now facing a goon with a +5 sword and a lout with a +8 trident. Each of them has 30 Life Points and a strong desire to make a name for himself by killing you. Should this desire be satisfied, your bleeding body will be dragged from the arena and dumped unceremoniously at 13. In the unlikely event that you survive, take your pick of sword, spear or trident and stride victorious to 40.

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  11

  You take a deep breath, grip your nose firmly and leap with wild abandon into the freezing waters of the frigidarium pool.

  There are disproportionate implications of this simple action. First, roll one die to find out whether or not you can swim. Score 1 to 4 inclusive and you’re paddling like a little duckling. Score 5 or 6 and you sink like a stone all the way to 13.

  Next, assuming you survived the swimming test, make an Absolutely Anything Roll to find out whether you survived the blistering shock of intense cold that assailed you when you hit the water. If making the roll kills you, go to 13. If you succeed in the roll, go to 28. If you fail in the roll, deduct 10 Life Points. If the deduction kills you, go to 13.

  I know this is getting complicated, but you’re the one that jumped into the pool. If you fail your Absolutely Anything Roll and the deduction of Life Points doesn’t kill you, you can make as many more Absolutely Anything Rolls as you like, providing you deduct 10 Life Points every time you fail. Or, now or later, you can throw your hat at the whole thing, climb out of the stupid pool and return the way you came through the door marked CXXXXI.

  Got all that? Good.

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  12

  You glance towards the distant horizon where the looming shape of Vesuvius has so far failed to spew lava into the air, then abruptly make up your mind. “Where exactly is the Temple of Neptune?” you ask the woman.

  “Back the way you came, turn left and you’ll find it at XLI.” she tells you cheerfully.

  Well, what are you waiting for? If you want the Temple of Neptune, go now to section XLI. Alternatively, of course, you can get out of town through the Porta Neptuna at 69 or even turn back to your map at 150 and select another destination.

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  13

  Well, sic biscuitus disintegratus, as the Ancient Romans used to say, which translates as that’s the way the cookie crumbles. Your cookie’s crumbled with a vengeance since you’re now dead as an undertaker’s fish paste sandwich.

  But unless you want to hang around this section for the rest of your death, it’s time for you to roll up a whole new mess of Life Points (not forgetting any Special Life Points you’ve earned) then gird your loins, place you nose to the grindstone, put your best foot forward and try, try, try again from Section 1.

  I’ll be rooting for you.

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  14

  Throw one die.

  Score 1 or 2 and go to 22.

  Score 3 or 4 and go to 58.

  Score 5 or 6 and go to 48.

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  15

  You’d never mistake this building for anything other than what it is. One looks tells all. This is the boss’s place, Mr Big’s pad, or in Rome, the Imperial Palace. It was definitely built to impress. Look at those sweeping columns. Look at those imposing archways. Look at the doors designed for giants, as if only giants lived there.

  Look at the guards. There are so many soldiers you’d swear they were expecting an invasion by the Helvetii. One of them is walking over to you now.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asks sourly.

  “I was wondering if the Emperor’s at home,” you tell him.

  “Another one asking about our Emperor,” he called over his shoulder.

  “Another one for the Mamertine Prison,” another soldier calls back.

  “No, wait, just a minute. I -”

  But now the guard has been joined by his colleague and they’re walking towards you menacingly.

  You can get into trouble in this place just by sightseeing. But are you just going to stand there and let them take you away without a fight? If you fancy your chances against these bruisers, turn to 44. If you’d prefer just to run like hades, try 102.

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  16

  There are a couple of dozy-looking guards on this gate but they seem to be there just for ornament since they aren’t stopping anybody or checking papers. With a huge feeling of relief you skip through the gate and onto the road out of town.

  You’ve escaped! You’re out of Pompeii before the fateful eruption! Now all you have to do is get far enough away to make sure you’re safe when the volcano actually blows.

  “Excuse me,” you call to a passer by, “but where will this road take me?”

  “To Herculaneum!” she calls back cheerfully.

  “Thank -” You stop abruptly. This road is going to Herculaneum? But Herculaneum was one of the other cities, like Stabiae and Pompeii, that were buried when Vesuvius erupted. This is out of the frying pan into the fire. Literally. You’re going to have to find another way out - fast!

  As you turn, there is a terrifying roar as the peak of Vesuvius splits open behind you and a black pine-shaped cloud erupts from the volcano showering massive red-hot cinders and great globules of molten lava.

  “Arrrgh!” you howl as a great globule of molten lava lands directly on your head, burning off most of your face and eating its way through the bone of your skull.

  After which it becomes quite difficult for you to continue your ad
venture. Go to 13.

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  17

  The contingent of guards marches right past you.

  You give a sigh of relief.

  The guards stop and their tribune turns and walks towards you. He stares at you grimly. “I think you may be the person I’m looking for,” he says.

  Maybe, but is he the person you’re looking for? He’s some distance from the rest of the Praetorians now, so there’s a chance you may be able to fight your way out of this mess at 59. But if you don’t want to risk it, you can stand up peacefully and tug your forelock at 77.

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  18

  It’s a bedroom - and a sumptuous one at that. Whoever lives here must have travelled a lot, or at least has a taste for exotica, since the bed has leopard-skin covers. There are animal skin rugs on the floor as well, making you wonder if the owner of this villa has a deal going with the organisers of the Games. The Brief Guide mentions somewhere that literally thousands of wild animals - lions, leopards, buffalo, hippos, crocodiles and even elephants - were trapped in Africa and brought back to the capital to take part in spectacular displays. Many of these displays were hunts so the average Games killed off almost as many animals as humans and the skins had to go somewhere.

  You’re just beginning to realise what a gory business life was in Ancient Rome when the skins on the bed move and a bald-headed man sits up to stare at you sleepily.

  “What you doing in my bedroom?” he asks. “Are you the new slave?”

  This is a more difficult question to answer than it sounds. You can pretend you’re the new slave at 46 and take your chances that you’ll be put to work when you should be looking for the wedding party. Or you can tell the truth at 158 and take the chance he won’t believe you.

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  19

  “Wrong!” exclaims Caligula delightedly. He looks thoughtfully into the middle distance. “Drowned in a vat of steaming porridge, I think.”

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

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  20

  “OK,” you mumble, “I’ll do it. But don’t think I believe any of this is really happening.”

  To your astonishment, the sibyl produces from a pocket in her robe a gizmo that looks for all the world like one of those communicators they use in Star Trek. She flicks it open with a practised twist of her wrist, then holds it to her mouth. “Sibyl calling Jupiter. Two to beam back.”

  Instantly there is a ringing in your ears and the parkland around you begins to shimmer. You watch in amazement as the sibyl turns into a sparkling pillar that fades, then disappears completely.

  It occurs to you abruptly that maybe this really is happening after all, that maybe you really are going to be transported back to Ancient Rome, that maybe the job’s a lot more dangerous than she pretends.

  But it occurs to you too late. Transform yourself into a shimmering pillar and fade to 60.

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  21

  You enter the private passageway behind the Royal Box terrified that guards will set upon you at any second. And as you turn a corner, you find to your horror that you’ve walked right into the Praetorians. They begin to move towards you menacingly, but Cassius halts them with a gesture.

  “Well done,” he tells you. “I was afraid you wouldn’t get here.”

  “I almost didn’t,” you say honestly. “What’s the story?”

  “The story,” hisses Cassius, “is that our monstrous Emperor must die today. The man has been bad news from the day of his unfortunate birth and even in the short time he’s been Emperor he’s managed to bring Rome close to bankruptcy. After his accession he squandered everything Tiberius left in the state treasury, then resorted to extortion of prominent Roman citizens and the confiscation of their estates. He has more blood on his hands than any other Roman Emperor and that’s saying something.”

  Cassius glares at you and pokes his finger in the air for emphasis. “Early last year he marched with an army into Gaul. He plundered the whole country, which was quite a good thing actually since plundering Gaul is an old Roman tradition. But then he marched his troops to the northern shoreline so he could invade Britain!”

  “What’s wrong with that?” you ask, bewildered. “I thought invading Britain was an old Roman tradition as well.”

  “It is,” thunders Cassius, “but having reached the coast he ordered his men to forget about the invasion and collect seashells! He had the idea he’d conquered the ocean and bested Neptune. The man’s as nutty as a Roman fruitcake.”

  “So what’s happening?” you ask.

  The tribune draws himself up to his full height. “What’s happening is that I, Cassius Chaerea, and my friend Cornelius Sabinus, have decided to rid Rome of the monster once and for all. Everything is now in place for the assassination. Have you brought the poisoned dagger?”

  Well have you? Should you be carrying a poisoned dagger about your person, give it to Cassius Chaerea and go to 101. Otherwise your fate lies at 146.

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  22

  You’re in a corridor running directly north/south with a right angle branch about half way down running east.

  This is a bit complicated, so pay attention. On the west wall of the main north/south corridor there are two doors. The most northerly one is to LVIII, the more southerly is to LXIII. There is only one door in the east wall of the main corridor and this leads to XVIII. The branch corridor (running east) has no doors in its northern wall, but there’s a door in the southern wall leading to XXXXIII. And this branch corridor actually ends in a door at its eastern extremity to XXXVI.

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  23

  The familiar scent of old blood reaches your nostrils as you walk through the arch and along the tunnel that leads into the arena and you find yourself hoping fervently that any smell of new blood won’t be your own.

  As you step into the sunlight, a bored looking man walks over and hands you a trident. “You’ll be one of the volunteer contingent, I expect. This is your weapon. Any next of kin?”

  You shake your head. Not in this time.

  “Ocus Cayus -” (Okay, Mercury translates) “ - get over there with the rest of the amateur lunatics for your presentation to the Emperor.”

  You go where he directs and find yourself in the middle of about twenty nervous young men to one side of the arena. After a moment, lectors shepherd you towards the royal box.

  The familiar figure of Caligula spots you at once and waves. “Yoo-hoo!” he calls, grinning broadly. “Want to answer some more questions?”

  “Here’s the only answer you’ll get from me this afternoon,” you shout back as you hurl your trident at his heart.

  Now hurl your die as well. Score 1, 2 or 3 and go to 62. Score 4, 5 or 6 and go to 124.

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  24

  There are a couple of dozy-looking guards on this gate but they seem to be there just for ornament since they aren’t stopping anybody or checking papers. With a huge feeling of relief you skip through the gate and onto the road out of town.

  You’ve escaped! You’re out of Pompeii before the fateful eruption! Now all you have to do is get far enough away to make sure you’re safe when the volcano actually blows.

  “Excuse me,” you call to a passer by, “but where will this road take me?”

  “To Vesuvius!” he calls back cheerfully.

  “Thank -” You stop abruptly. This road is actually going to Vesuvius? Boy, did you pick the wrong gate out of the city. />
  As you turn, there is a terrifying roar as the peak of Vesuvius splits open behind you and a black pine-shaped cloud erupts from the volcano showering massive red-hot cinders and great globules of molten lava.

  “Arrrgh!” you howl as a great globule of molten lava lands directly on your head, burning off most of your face and eating its way through the bone of your skull.

  After which it becomes quite difficult for you to continue your adventure. Go to 13.

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  25

  The Centurion examines your pass carefully. “Glad you got one,” he remarks, “Our Caligula’s very fussy about stuff like that.”

  You blink. “Caligula? Did you say Caligula? But isn’t Augustus the Emperor?”