Roman Rebel

Postby Canuck33 » Fri Apr 20, 2012 9:37 am

ROMAN REBEL

We managed to penetrate the palace minutes before the soldiers were summoned. Although we are several hundred yards away, Justinian and I could easily heard their foot stomps and battle cries as they swarmed the entrances, looking for the intruders. There were only about fifty of us, while there were about four hundreds Roman soldiers stationed on the palace grounds. Yet I knew the underground dungeons better than anybody else. You see, I was the forgotten grandson of emperor Marcus Aurelius. My name is Alexandros Maximus. Being second born, I realized I probably won’t become emperor, but I never thought the chosen ruler would grow to become such a merciless tyrant. Under Commodus’ rule, tax fees skyrocketed so he could live in greater luxury, and those who refused to pay were punished severely. Both Justinian and I, leaders of the rebellion, were nineteen years of age, young and idealistic. Justinian was the charismatic speaker, and I arrived with the plan to invade the palace dungeons. I could show the people that Commodus was not as impenetrable as they thought. I could also die in vain, or worse...

‘Brothers, this is a dead end,’ Justinian announced. A solid stone wall ended the corridor, and a few men started to head back. ‘I think not,’ I quickly retorted. Having played hide-and-seek in these halls as a young boy, I knew about all the secret passages. ‘Can I have your torch?’ I asked Justinian.
‘Certainly,’ he handed it to me and looked at my face skeptically. I nodded. I looked for any out-of-place stones. There was only one. I knew this was not really a wall, it was a secret door and this was its handle. It slowly opened, much to everyone’s amazement. They all applauded.
‘Silence!’ I hissed, ironically loud, ‘we mustn’t reveal ourselves so easily. After me!’ The dark stone corridor continued for a few feet, the only source of light being a few torches. Eventually the corridor splits, a tall staircase on its left side. Strong light shone from the upstairs.
‘I think we should go up, walking through this damp darkness is starting to make me queasy,’ says Justinian. He is not the brightest bulb in the shed, and that is putting things nicely. My instincts urge me to decline his idea, but then I heard mumbles of assent from the crowd.
‘Alexandros, we’re not going to meet anybody down here in this dungeon. If you want to get anything done, up we go,’ says an older man in the crowd.
I assess our situation. Aemilius made a valid point. Other than a few old and relatively harmless dungeon masters, there is nothing of value down here. We came to fight and kill, and ask questions later. “Fine, we shall ascend. Follow me and Justinian.”

‘CEASE!!!’ The command catches us by surprise. We are outnumbered ten to one by professional roman soldiers, led by the local centurion Severus, one never to be played with.
‘Hold your arms!’ I yelled back to my people, but it is too late. Some have started fighting. For every Roman soldier killed, two or three rebels are eliminated. Our numbers dwindle to about thirty when I decide to drop my shield, my weapons, undo my armour and my helmet and raise a white handkerchief as means of surrender. I am down to my sandals, red knee-length skirt and white short-sleeve tunic. Justinian and the remaining rebels follow.
Severus looks at me with surprising admiration. He inspects my face, pulls a strand of hair from my forehead. I feel simultaneously violated and confused. ‘Hmm, I think we have captured a youngin. Shame, you are such a handsome lad and you get yourself involved in a dirty plot.’ I stare daggers into his eyes and say nothing.
‘Who are you, son, if you don’t mind me asking?’ he hisses.
‘I am Alexandros Maximus, grandson of Marcus Aurelius, and member of the Imperial Family!’ I shout proudly. ‘You are making a mistake, Severus. It is not too late to undo your misdeeds.’
‘Really? Well, Alexandros, if that is your real name, I am afraid you are not in the position to make demands. Look around you.’ His soldiers laugh wholeheartedly, while he smiles smugly at me. He looks much older this close, with his creased brow and black goatee, and his breath smells putrid. Yet he is right, I am the weak one. The next sentence comes out as a snarl. ‘I am afraid you will have to pay dearly, pretty boy.’ He nods, and two brawny soldiers grab my arms and pin my elbows painfully behind my back.

‘Unhand me!’ I yell, and then a third one shoves a dirty cloth in my mouth. “Gag him well, I’m getting bored of his whining,’ says Severus. The soldiers tie a leather strap behind my head, holding the cloth in my mouth, so all I can say is ‘Hmmmppp!!!’ Then they tie my hands behind my back with strong hemp rope, with my wrist bones facing one another. I am thankful to be armour-less, otherwise this tie would have excruciatingly painful. My elbows are tied together tightly. I can still wiggle them a bit, but then they wrap a longer rope around my upper arms several times, pinning them tightly. To finish off, they bind my ankles with several rounds of rope and fasten it with several knots. It is so tight I can no longer walk properly, instead I have to hobble. Severus is finding this very amusing. I am starting to fear he is allured by my helplessly bound, youthful physique. I never heard any rumours claiming that Severus enjoys the company of young men, but this is Rome, after all. ‘Take him to the dungeons, make sure he is well-guarded, but do not hurt him...yet. Make sure he is given a decent breakfast, I want his strength and wits intact Then I will decide what we shall do with him...’ Severus’ voice trails off, and he laughs. His laugh is harsh, evil sounding. Justinian and the younger rebels are bound likewise. We are brutally led back downstairs. I noticed the older men are led outside by a different group of soldiers, probably to be executed. They are no good to Severus. I am led to a small, filthy cell with nothing but a night pot and ripped straw mattress. I am tossed inside like an animal and the door locks behind me. I scream through my gag, but no sound comes out other than ‘Hmmmppp!!’ I am too tired. I attempt to fight my fatigue, but eventually I close my eyes and drift into deep sleep...



And that's when I woke up in my normal bed, wearing normal clothes. My name is not Alexandros Maximus, although that really is a kicka$$ name. :quirk:
Last edited by Canuck33 on Wed Apr 25, 2012 8:22 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Sorry I can't talk now, I'm a little tied up at the moment.

Re: Roman Rebel

Postby Chris12 » Fri Apr 20, 2012 1:52 pm

Go romans! :big:

I'm a fan of Romans so this story was a nice surprise, hope to see part two soon.

btw how old is Alexandros supposed to be?

Re: Roman Rebel

Postby Canuck33 » Fri Apr 20, 2012 7:12 pm

Hi Chris, glad you liked it, I haven't seen any Roman TUG stories here, which is surprising. This story is based on a crazy dream where I'm leading a Roman uprising. I thought I could easily insert some bondage into it, and ta-da! I had a story. How would you like me to end the story? Should the rebels live...or die? :mouthopen:

Alexandros Maximus is supposed to be 19.
Sorry I can't talk now, I'm a little tied up at the moment.

Re: Roman Rebel

Postby Chris12 » Mon Apr 23, 2012 5:36 am

Hahaha its your story :lol: You decide.

Re: Roman Rebel

Postby Canuck33 » Mon Apr 23, 2012 9:18 pm

Tell me what you think:

I wake up halfway through the night, my body aching from resting at an awkward position. My jaw also hurts from being locked by that demonic gag, but there is nothing I can do. Well, almost nothing; I get up, run towards the wall and hit my head. I don’t really know what to expect, other than a bruise, but considering I might be facing the death penalty for treason, so nothing is too stupid to try out. Finally, the nearest guard, an overweight middle-aged washed up prefect in dirty armour, decides to investigate the commotion by shouting towards me: ‘Hey! What’s going on, lumphead?’
‘Hmmmmfff!’ I reply without the slightest hint of sarcasm.
‘Yeah yeah, go back to sleep, weakling.’
‘HMPFFFF!’ I moan louder, hoping he will show compassion and un-gag me. I almost believe it. Instead, he smacks me with the butt of his sword and sends me to the floor. ‘That will teach you manners, you stinking rat. Now shut up and let me have some sleep!’ He closes the door with a rattle and leaves me on the floor, more hurt and hopeless than before. What am I going to do now?! I thought. I inspected the walls for any secret doors, rubbed the dirty for any secret openings, but I found nothing. Defeat was beginning to settle.

That was when I heard the continuous, orchestrated shouting of my comrades, accompanied by the rattling of cell doors. I hear my name, ‘Alexandros! Alexandros!’ shouted above the general commotion. Maybe I was too quick to lose hope. I am hoping one of the guards will be stupid enough to come too close to Fabius, my third-in-command after Justinian. Fabius is huge for a Roman; about six foot two in modern-day measurements and stocky, Fabian is known for his unnerving combination of strength and menace. Perhaps he could lure one of the guards to come close enough that he could bash his skull, steal the key chain from his lifeless body, and then free himself and everybody else. It turns out Fabius did exactly as I planned. It was not him, but Justinian who came to my rescue. His body somewhat beaten, but far from the point of collapse. He unties my bonds, removed the gag from my mouth, and urges me to order everone to make a retreat. I do not try to be a hero. With our number having dwindled to forty, our best option is to retreat. I find the nearest secret door out of the dungeon, which leads us to the woods outside Commodus’s palace. Since it is late at night, the premises are mostly empty, and Fabius only has to kill two unfortunate soldiers in order for us to proceed. With a stroke of luck from the Gods, we manage to return to our homes safe and sound. However, I am a political rebel at heart, and eventually I will return, stronger than before, to defeat the tyrant Commodus once and for all. Until the day comes when I am strong enough to complete my mission, I will lay low and avoid getting tied up in any additional situations.
Sorry I can't talk now, I'm a little tied up at the moment.

Re: Roman Rebel

Postby Chase Ricks » Mon Apr 23, 2012 9:24 pm

From a historical viewpoint I am most impressed by the attention you have down in portraying the background. Please keep up the good work.
From whence I came and whence I went heaven said I was too evil and sent me to hell. Demons and devils succeeded in breaking my soul.

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Re: Roman Rebel

Postby mikeybound » Tue Apr 24, 2012 5:39 am

God! Those dungeon architects were idiots! All those secret exits...

Re: Roman Rebel

Postby Canuck33 » Tue Apr 24, 2012 8:18 am

LMAO I love secret exits! I should've mentioned that Commodus's architects secretly loathed him and sabotaged his plans for an impenetrable dungeon by adding dozens of secret passages to help aid those who manage to escape.

Chase, I'm not sure if you're being sarcastic or not. I wrote the second half in about an hour while I was tired, with ZERO research into Roman architecture. Oh well, if it's convincing enough, that's all that counts.
Sorry I can't talk now, I'm a little tied up at the moment.

Re: Roman Rebel

Postby Chase Ricks » Tue Apr 24, 2012 2:13 pm

I assure you I was not meaning to sound at all sarcastic. My apologies if you took it that way. I look forward to seeing what happens next.
From whence I came and whence I went heaven said I was too evil and sent me to hell. Demons and devils succeeded in breaking my soul.

Image