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Heir of Aurelian

The year is 407 AD and Rome is at the precipice. In the West, a usurper by the name of Flavius Claudius Constantinus has declared himself emperor. By doing this, he and his traitor legions have fractured the Western Roman Empire into two. At the same time, the north bleeds! Countless germans swarm across the borders of the Empire and pillage its lands in their ruthless raids. Alaric, King of the Goths, rises to a position of prominence and threatens the ancient capital of the dying Empire with his barbarian hordes. As if things weren't bad enough, rumors from the east state that a mysterious power rises within the fogs of war, threatening to drown the Empire in a river of blood. As a response to these threats, the indolent emperor Honorius has given orders to his supreme commander Flavius Stilicho to reclaim the province of Gaul from the usurper. However, should he leave the heartland of the Empire undefended, undoubtedly Alaric would invade. Thus, under the threat of barbarians at the gates, Stilicho dispatches a young roman general by the name of Titus Claudius Marcellus to bring an end to the reign of the usurper. Will Rome fall to the tides of barbarians and traitors alike? Or can Marcellus restore a world collapsing around him? Find out in Heir of Aurelian!

Zentmeister · 歴史
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181 Chs

Making Pasta

Frank awoke from his slumber late in the afternoon. He had spent the last few nights partying with his friends and was now hungover beyond belief. He struggled to get up from under his covers, but ultimately managed to find his footing. After some effort, he managed to find his way to the stairs where he descended them cautiously while holding onto the handrail. 

When he entered the kitchen area, he could smell the scent of baked ziti in the oven. This instantly surprised him, as he did not know what the time was. When he rounded the corner, his mother looked at him with a stern expression before chastising him for his scandalous actions throughout the weekend.

"Well, it's good to see that my son is still alive. Were you out drinking again?"

The words the woman spoke felt like a cheese grater against Frank's brain, and the florescent lighting wasn't helping. He stumbled towards a stool at the counter where he sat down and sunk his head into his arms.