Tina Anderson
Stories
3
Chapters
74
Words
152.3 K
Comments
0
Reading
12 h, 41 m
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I made a cornball map of Villa Servi, a unique structure built in the years following Hannibal's failed invasion (when Rome amplified the colonization of the Alps). Magnus Servius came to the Leontine's to oversee his grandfather's immature walnut grove and father's apple orchards. He spent most of his adult life adding a second-story to the farmhouse, and planting pears alongside the first orchard. His son, Rufus never left, marrying a Cisalpine Gaul, be began selling their crops to Rome proper. His…-
645 • Ongoing
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Welletrix of the VeragriiAge 32 | He/Him | Helvetian Celt Wellet is an educated Celt of Veragrī lineage captured during the battle at Bibracte. He served at Villa Servi as a slave overseeing the household staff. He is a bastard son of the wealthy noble Orgetorix, making him important to the Gauls living in the Servian village. Though pursued by men and women in the past, Wellet has no desire for such…-
1.3 K • Ongoing
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The Servii do not keep slaves but employ Romano-Gallic workers (mostly Gallic with Vitas and Scipio sending war prisoners to make up for the Roman's leaving during their absence). Many of the families there are generational due to the security the plantation provides. The pay is low but the harvests are seasonal, and when not harvesting, these people live rent-free in a village with walls, gardens, animals, baths, and fresh water. I used an existing graphic featuring a Roman farm from the Late Republic…
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645 • Ongoing
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I made the map above with Paint-shit Pro, using various other maps as a guide. The Servii keep a grand villa rustica on the same ridge as their plantation village. The two-story villa sits on the shoreline of a deep glacial pond with views of a nearby forest and the surrounding mountains. Using existing designs found on the web, I tried to configure details as my narrative presents. The Servii live in the Lepontine Alps, very near the Swiss border (close to the Adula peak). I mapped the journey…
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645 • Ongoing
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Nikonidas OrobiusAge 27 | He/Him | Greco-Roman Niko was born in the Lepontine Alps just north of the Lario (modern Lake Como). He is the surviving son of a freedman employed to cook at Villa Servi. He resides where he grew up, in an apartment over the villa stores, and is the current head of the kitchen. He hasn't spoken since he was a teen, after his mother's death in childbirth and his father's passing from…
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1.3 K • Ongoing
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Skipio leads his scouts ahead of the legions until the roar of wind-swept trees overcomes the drum of infantry boots. Night marches are perilous without a torch or stars. It is lonely work, and anxiety consumes the hours. No one speaks, not even to their horse. A reedy marsh confronts their small procession, its insects and amphibians cavorting so wildly that they drown out the men’s thundering hearts. Somewhere within the swaying bobtails lies water, yet entering foreign wetlands invites death. Actus…-
109.5 K • Ongoing
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Haze blankets a sea that burns silver under the high sun. Shadows appear along the vanishing point, first five and then ten, until there are too many ships to count. Continental refugees decried the fleeing prince Mandubracius and his deal with the Roman wolves. Those fresh from the fight said continental warlord Dumnorix fought hard before his fall. They whispered of impending sabotage and a hidden armada—but alas, it’s now clear that Dumnorix, is as dead as his ships. “The wolves paddle across the…
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109.5 K • Ongoing
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Longhouses cover the white expanse while half-built ships stretch for miles along the shoreline. The majestic forest is gone, its slenderest remains fueling barracks stoves, its thickest trunks now backbones for Caesar’s flat-bottom boats. Roman victory kills more than those on the battlefield. Like locusts, the legions consume everything. They slaughter livestock and leave those natives unfit for enslavement to starve. One of them, Decurion Servius, marches through the snow, his furry boots crunching…
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109.5 K • Ongoing
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Father’s owl mask watches from the muddy shore, its top trim black from battle fire. His snowy war prize approaches for a drink and takes her fill before retreating to the grassy bank, where waterlogged cornflowers await her hunger. Falling rain stings his shoulders, a necessary hurt that washes away his warpaint. He drops his bare ass into the pebbled rivulet and spreads his spindly legs. Within the V bobs his pliable manhood as rushing waters flush clean his foreskin. Aedan rises to his feet, sopping…
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109.5 K • Ongoing
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Vibrant tunics litter the grasslands, their owners hacking away at the forest. Another group surrounds them, collecting newly cut trees and rolling them over a ribbed assembly of smaller logs. Workhorses form lines at the roping station, their twitchy legs eager to haul fresh timber to the carpenters near shore. Nothing matches the hardness of a tree against one’s ass when a climax comes. Britannia’s narrow forests make Skipio long for the thick oaks of home, ageless alpine giants with massive ground…
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109.5 K • Ongoing
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