Urdante, the Land of lust and blood
The estate of Marcus Cornelius Falco
Marcus Falco paced around the inner garden of his estate and recited greek poetry with a faint smile on his lips. He wore a simple red tunic and sandals this day - for there was no need to be formal in your own home. The orator glanced over his shoulder towards a man who was writing on a tablet. "You reckon this is enough poetry for now?" He asked with a slightly amused tone.
Cato glanced up from the tablet and shrugged his wide shoulders "Guess it is. Care for a drink? I don't know about you, but all those sweet words made my throat dry." The greek slave picked up a jug and handed it towards Marcus "It's a bit warm, but still beats the urine they serve in subura."
Marcus rolled his eyes and took a large sip from the jug "Any words make your damn throat dry..." He tossed the jug back to Cato, who caught it mid flight and took his share of the liquid "So it does, friend. So it does." The tall man stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders as he did his best imitation of Marcus "You reckon, old friend - if there would be a chance of heading to the sands?" He tilted his head slighlty and made a little hand movement "For I look forwards to bringing thee money and honour by spilling my blood if need be."
Marcus spat on the ground and grinned "May the gods have it so that your sword is allways sharper than your tongue. Perhaps before the sun sets you'll have a chance to stretch your muscles and make the crowd cheer, oh Sword of Mars." He made a very exaggerated hand movement and both men burst in to laugher. Cato shook his head and turned on his heels "With your permission I'll go and prepare something to eat." Marcus simply nodded and continued pacing around the garden.
The orator sighed and glanced to the sky "We have a Dictator, for six moths he'll hold supreme power in all of Rome... I hope it doesn't affect my life in the slightest."