57 Results with the "Drama" genre
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Chapter
X – The Price of Pain
One calculates a citizen's measure by grading their empathy, benevolence, and financial worth. One measures a soldier’s value by the skill of his kills, his labor, and years in service. Sadly, no rubric exists for a citizen who is also a soldier. Planus ruminates on such things in the shadow of Skipio’s recent brutality, all the while haunted by memories of rescuing him from the sea. That day, Caesar, his leader and kin, sent Planus on a routine inspection of the merchant ships harvesting chalk from…-
115.6 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
IX – The Slaughter Arena
This violent summer is the hottest in memory. Bitch Face, the pretty Roman, covers the dead farmer and her children while his brothers hack away at her barley field. He casts an anxious gaze across the field at the forest. Deep within the trees, Aedan the Owl squats on a high branch, his foot rising so his toe can scratch the itch behind his ear. He watches Bitch Face, whose rage over a slaughtered lover burns hot, and grins. This rare show of emotion unsettles his cadre of most loyal, awaiting him…-
115.6 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
VIII
This captive burns hot when he sleeps, never waking, no matter how indelicate a druid’s touch. Here lies the beauty of the falls, the lion from his vision. Aedan’s thumb pushes at an eyelid, revealing a lily pad floating in the white, and its dark center widening with exposure to the light. His smooth skin stinks of cooking fire, and his soft nipples taste of roasted rabbit. He sits upon the strapping prisoner and delights in how the man’s muscular gut feels his bare crack. Cock in hand, he guides…-
115.6 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
VII
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. For Skipio Servius, nothing matches a tree’s hardness against one’s ass when a climax comes. This river valley’s narrow trees make him long for the thick oaks of home, ageless alpine…-
115.6 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
VI
Father’s owl mask watches him from the muddy shore, its top trim blackened by battle fire. Aedan’s snowy war prize comes to the water for a drink. She takes her fill before retreating to the grassy bank, where waterlogged cornflowers sate her hunger. Rain stings Aedan’s shoulders, a necessary hurt that washes away his warpaint and admonishes him for losing his fiercest bitches. He sits his bare ass into the pebbled rivulet and spreads his spindly legs. Within the V between his thighs, rushing…-
115.6 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
V
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. Skipio leads his scouting party ahead of the legions, and after a time, they find a marsh obstructing their path. Inside this wall of towering reeds and foxtail stalks, insects and amphibians cavort so wildly that they drown out his thundering heart. Water lies somewhere within the swaying…-
115.6 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
IV
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. Those fleeing the continent speak of Prince Mandubracius and his deal with the Roman battle king, Kaiser. Those fresh from the fight say warlord Dumnorix plans to sabotage the Roman battle king with a hidden armada. Alas, it’s now clear that Dumnorix is as dead as his ships, and Mandubracius comes home for his crown. Their driver…-
115.6 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
III
Longhouses cover the white expanse. Half-built ships stretch for miles along the shoreline. The majestic forest is gone, its slenderest remains fueling barracks stoves, its thickest trunks the backbones for Caesar’s growing fleet of flat-bottom boats. Roman victory kills more than those on the battlefield. Like locusts, the legions consume everything. They slaughter livestock and leave those unfit for enslavement to starve. Decurion Servius marches through the snow, his furry boots crunching in the…-
115.6 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
II
His life is defined by how much pain he brings his mother. Twenty-two years ago, she left her princely father’s house to live with a coastal druid named Fintan, who, for all his holistic prowess, never suspected her already caught. Her pains began on the autumnal, and her unborn babe insisted on coming out ass first. The old druidess tending the delivery cut her belly to liberate him, and Ciniod reminds her grown son of this trauma every time she must force a fart. Aedan the Ancalite is a bony sort…-
115.6 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
I
His name is Lucius Skipio Servius, or Skipio to those who call him a friend. He stands taller than most with a robust physique, chiseled face, and a captivating mouth no man can resist. His shorn head gleams like ripe wheat, unlike his dark, verdant eyes that run deep like river moss. Vitus Servius is bald like his son. The stocky patrician owns a vast orchard in the northern mountainous frontier. It boasts a thriving walnut grove alongside its primary crop of apples and pears. Still, his only son…-
115.6 K • Ongoing
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