Marcus XVI

Rome

The Villa of Marcus Cornelius Falco, roughly half a mile north from Rome

When you grow old there is no need for needless shows of courage on the battlefield, no need for marching in rows with other men that too have a head full of hair and delusions of grandeur to come. There is no need to bother with politics - unless of course they dare to bother you first, then it's a completely different matter. Not that he was bothered by politics at this point. However on this particular morning Marcus Cornelius Falco felt old - not needlessly so, but old nonetheless. He had slept till noon and woken with a rather nasty pain in his right shoulder. He had dreamed of his youth, his time in the legions - more exciting times. Begrudgingly he had gotten out of bed, done his morning routines and gotten dressed.

It had been well past midday when he had finally managed to make his way to the garden of his villa - if you could really call it a garden with it's very few trees and slightly unkempt flowerbeds. Even the fountain at the back of the garden seemed somehow bleak today. Marcus yawned as he sat down with a jug of wine and some bread. His stomach grumbled - not for the lack of food, but more for the amounts of wine he had devoured last night while gambling with some old friends of his. Silently the former consul began going over his schedule of the day - there wouldn't be much work for him, mostly because he adamantly refused meeting too many a people during one day. He remarked to himself that there would indeed be much more work for him if he'd allow more people in, but no... That just wouldn't do.

Marcus Falco paused his writing to glance up at the sky. The days were getting colder. He sighed and shook his head. "I wonder if there are any news from Rome?"

Besieged

(So you as a GM don't have anything to say about the bullshit that just occured? ...Ok, fine... Also Ramius is older than Eline)

Ramius and Eline had barely left the room when several men surrounded them - they wore the plumed helmets of the Companions and made a quick salute. "A dangerous prisoner has escaped." The commander of the Companions stated briefly. The prince took a deep breath. "Ring the alarm, search the entire castle, even the passageways and towers. I want this man in front of me within the hour! Bring him to me alive. I want this place in full lockdown in five minutes!" Ramius had a very commanding tone if needed and he was now using it to fullest extent. "I'm hereby authorizing the usage of alchemical explosives within the castle until the culpirit has been apprehended. Remember, you are NOT fighting to kill, only to wound and capture. I don't care however if he loses his eyesight or even limbs." Ramius was noticeably agitated and a bit out of breath as he moved his hand in a dismissive manner "You have your orders men!" The junior guards left to follow the prince's orders with some reluctance as several Companions stayed to protect him and his sister. Ramius took a deep breath. "...Gather the Companions, let's see how an assassin escapes from the very best of the best...." Two of the Companions made a quick salute and went on their way to gather the rest of their unit.

Rome

Name: Marcus Cornelius Falco Minor
Age: 42
Nationality: Roman

Rank within nation: former Consul, lawyer, orator, former governor of Gallia Cisalppina, former Legate of Legio V Macedonica

For Roman commanders, which province are you stationed in? -

Appearance: Marcus Falco stands just below 6 feet, his arms and shoulders have obvious signs of a rigorous training regimen. From a first glance you could easily mistake him for just another ruffian from Subura. His dark brown hair is kept cut short and has noticeable streaks of gray and signs of balding on the temples. His large nose has been broken at least once. Falco's eyes are dark brown, but possess much colder glare than what is usually associated with that particular eyecolor. He is relatively handsome for his age - though the slightly jutting jaw and a permanent half smile giving scar on his left cheek mar his handsomeness to a degree.

Background: Marcus Falco was born to an already wealthy family - his grandfather had gained a fortune serving under Octavian - the future Emperor Augustus - the family's wealth was only grown by Marcus' father who was both a good tradesman and an excellent orator. Marcus himself spent his youth studying to become a lawyer and an orator like his father. Through the grace of being wealthy and extremely lucky Falco has gotten himself in to several very exquisite positions at a slightly younger age than what is common - for instance he gained the Grass Crown for saving the Legio V Macedonica from near certain destruction after it's original commander had been horribly wounded in an ambush, a feat which also gave him the privelige of becoming a Praetor at the remarkably young age of 31 - which was followed by consulship at 34.

Nowadays Falco has mostly confined himself to his villa outside Rome and quite rarely even accepts visitors - other than senators and other such high ranking officials. Though he does occasionally lend his knowledge of law and oratorial skills to someone in need - for remarkably low fees, sometimes even refusing payment all together.

Strengths, weaknesses, phobias, et cetera: Excellent knowledge of law, great orator, highly charismatic. Despite his strengths Falco is a very supersticious man and doesn't trust even his closest friends. Suffers from a rather severe case of claustrophobia and possesses a very short temper.

Ambition: To be remembered as a greater orator and lawyer than even Marcus Tullius Cicero.

Besieged

No offense, but I call bullshit.

Besieged

Ramius actually let out a little laugh - it was more an annoyed chuckle than anything. "You don't get it, do you?" The prince ruffled his sister's hair like he had often done when they had been younger. "I have no intentions of becoming a king - and before you object you'll have to hear me out on this, sis." He managed a genuine little smile as he stumbled to his feet and moved to the center of the room - there had been very little to memorize about that particular room, heck he could have ran laps around it if he so wished even despite the few beds and chairs. Ramius turned to face the window and forced his left hand to a more... poetic gesture. "You see dear Eline, my interest in this whole being a king business died along with my sight. It's bad enough now that the servants are constantly surrounding me like I can't do anything myself! Think how it would look if I would be a king. All the servants still buzzing around me like bees around a flower? The prince tilted his head slightly to the left and with a little hand motion covered his eyes with his hair. "Well, I shouldn't worry... the dragons will get to us long before either of us will have a chance to ascend to the throne... By either of us I ofcourse mean you." He pointed his hand roughly towards Eline and sighed as he seated himself on the floor. "I miss seeing your smile... and seeing your eyes... You have really pretty eyes, you know that?"

After a moment of silence Ramius got back on his feet and walked up to the door. He slammed his right fist to it "Captain! I wish for an escort to the dungeons." Wishing for an escort was very un-Ramius-like, but maybe he wished to make up his earlier impoliteness. "I would prefer swords and crossbows - the dungeons are a bit too tight for halberds if I remember correctly, how about it?" Instead of the Junior Guardsmen he could have just called for his personal bodyguard - though those fellows would be even more overprotective of him since they had known one another since they were children... Ramius shook his head slightly "Now mind you I could just call for the Companions, but that would be impolite towards you guys now wouldn't it. Also if you are still listening to me I'd like to..." The prince had to actually pause for a moment - he really didn't think he'd say this to anyone like the particular captain. "...I apologize about my earlier rudeness towards you." He took two steps away from the door and waited patiently for the door to be opened.

Besieged

Ramius gritted his teeth as he and Eline were escorted to the room, he hated it perhaps more than anything in his little world. He bitterly thought about his lost eyesight and remarked to himself that the assassin would be dead by now if he'd still have the use of his eyes. The prince did his best to keep his temper in check as he walked to the barred window and took hold of one of the metal bars with his right hand. His knuckles soon turned white from the force of his clenched fingers. "I hate this room..." Ramius muttered and shook his head and turned to the general direction of Eline "...Even with you here it's so... empty. I know it is, even though... Well, you know." He rolled his pale green eyes and sat down under the window. "Sometimes I think that father is going mad with his... protectiveness." The prince sighed and held his head. "With the way things are going I really hope I'll never get my eyesight back... I'd hate to see the condition the castle is in... Even the old statues from the garden are gone... Hell, I'm surprised that there even is a garden any more..." Ramius shook his head and closed his eyes. "I wouldn't even make too good a king I think. I'd be a better adviser or general..."

Besieged

Ramius glanced icily to the general direction of the captain and took a quite defiant stance. "You are as deaf as I am blind, captain." The prince stated with a tone filled with coldness and bitterness. "Obviously that man was after my father, not me." He shrugged his shoulders and spat on the ground - only barely missing the captain's left boot. "I will not move an inch from this spot before I know that Eline is safe." The words had barely escaped from the prince's mouth as his sister ran to the scene. Immediately all the bitterness and coldness was gone from Ramius' tone. "Eline, thank the gods you are alright." He took a very gentle hold of his sister's arm just above the elbow and smiled. "Let's get inside, ok? There might be more of them..."

Feral

That was actually a pretty good one as far as horrible puns go

Feral

Oh gods! Stop jesting it's a serious matter! >w< Or at the very least come up with better puns! :P

Feral

Well that arm is beyond even magical repair... But stopping the blood loss might be a good thing for Cadogan OwO