Cygnus Inter Anates

1040 BC. As knowledge of our world expands, so too does its level of intrigue.



Roman hands have begun to tame the natural chaos surrounding us, imposing order on the savage wild. The cattle grazing to the west of the city have been confined to pastures, and our farmers have tamed the fields of rice to northeast. Food abounds in Rome; our people are well-fed and happy.






The Chinese to the south are now not the only rivals with whom Rome must contend. Our scouts have encountered emissaries from peoples living far to the west, in lands so remote our cartographers have no knowledge of their location. The English are one such people; they speak, like the Chinese, a language foreign to ours ears, yet whose customs and behaviors seem more closely advanced to the Roman level of development. Also met are a people who, laughably, lay claim to the title of the Holy Roman Empire. Like the son of a warrior playing with wooden soldiers, this adolescent culture has witnessed the might and glory of Rome, and aspires to it. Once the locations of their cities become apparent, we shall just how loosely the robes hang from their shoulders.






While our rivals flood the world with their insipid messengers, carrying tidings of peace and friendship like so many candies that please the tongue but leave the stomach longing for substance, Rome instead troubles itself with the solid stone foundations of a new day. South of Antium and southwest of Rome, at the foot of the mighty Mont Blanc, Caesar has ordered the founding of the settlement of Cumae. Our warriors have begged for swift steeds to ride into battle against our enemies, and for copper axes and spears as sturdy as their stout hearts, and Caesar has granted their wishes. The people of Cumae shall now provide these services to our fighting men, and serve the glory of Rome well in this pursuit.






The most recent discoveries of our scouts further broaden the horizons of our world. Rounding the southern tip of China, they press westward along the Mediterranean coast. They have sent back tales of wild boars so fat and succulent that they feast for a week on their flesh, and of Mediterranean clams with a unique flavor unknown to the Roman palate. But despite these wonders, their most recent dispatch gives me the most pause—more strange peoples and cultures wearing the dress of civilized men. Scouts calling themselves Egyptian have been met along the coast, hailing from the same mysterious western country as the English and false Romans, and a culture of horsemen known as the Aztecs have been discovered living in cities along the Mediterranean coast.






Like a new batch of spoils returned to Rome by our warriors, the discovery of these new peoples ignites the imagination—but, as with tribal trinkets, Caesar quickly grows weary of such diversions. To speculate upon the distant stars is amusement for complacent elders; I am more concerned with the thickness of our walls. Unlike these new foreign tribes, the Chinese to our south are within arm’s reach of Rome; they command Caesar’s attention.