Welcome to Orbis. Here, the Roman nations are a superpower.


Welcome to Africa Nova. Out here, the Africans live in a variety of tribes...hunting and gathering, in a phase of evolution that's just above the caveman and way too far beneath Milan.

In these parts, the Akan people infest the jungles like a rash. The men hunt hogs, bongos, and guinea fowl. The women grow chocolate, nuts, and bananas. Most of the year, it rains too much for anyone. Just as often, the rivers flood too much.

This world would drive a Roman insane. But lucky for the Akans, they've had millennia to evolve up to its level.

Among the undergrowth of the jungle floor, a little black girl wanders. She's clad in revealing leather, and carries a spear. Much to her nation's chagrin, she'd rather hunt than gather. She should be used to it. But you know, people can be so damn racist...including the ones who know that the Romans are coming, and won't leave a single hectare of land unclaimed.

Meet Naevia. Even now, she's a very fierce Akan warrior. Many would daresay TOO fierce; especially the shamans. Naevia doesn't understand what the fuss is about. She's making more progress on her own in one day than the entire Akan nation doesn't make as a society in the time that it takes for a generation to rise and fall. If anything, Naevia thinks, it should be THEM who works on themselves... Naevia's got no junk. There ain't NOTHING broken about her. Anyone who thinks otherwise neither needs nor deserves her.

She just wishes that some men would stop chasing her. Honestly; they can't seem to realize that she's a fucking CAT, and not a fucking mouse, as they treat her as...

In the shadows of big shade-soaking leaves, a dik-dik lies, hiding from the wild. Few see her. Naevia does.

Up high, Naevia stands on a tree branch. She's high up...but she can see the little antelope from where she is. The dik-dik is no bigger than a rabbit. And yet, that's one thing Naevia's learned in life: a bongo is a holiday, but a dik-dik is day labor.

She's got her spear. It's force is more than too much for that dik-dik. But of course, Naevia can't help it that she's so strong. Also, it doesn't really matter how she kills it, just as long as its meat is still edible, when she goes down there to dress it and take it away.

Balancing atop the branch, she aims her spear. No doubt about it, that dik-dik's a kebab waiting to happen. And with luck, this spear is what Naevia will be roasting it on...

She's ready. She aims the spear, for throwing. That dik-dik is so peaceful, his blood pressure SHOULD be turning him into a frozen block of ice...in thirty-degree humidity.

Alas, a horn shatters the tranquility of the jungle.

Atop the branch, Naevia freezes...and is lucky she doesn't fall from the branch. That sounded WAY too close...and she knows whose horn that is...

Below, the dik-dik gets up and runs. It seems that either he's had dealings with the Romans before, or he's lost a relative to their wrath.

Naevia's not afraid of them. Even so, she has NO interest in becoming one of their slaves. As high up as she is, this tree branch is still an impractical place to hide. Right now, she's struggling to maintain balance, as it is.

Balance has never been Naevia's strength, for some reason... Even so, she's not beneath hiding from a prowling Roman century.

She runs down the branch, to where it meets the trunk. She flattens herself against the trunk, lowers herself, and lets her bare legs fall off either side of the branch. And, she calms herself...to little effect. She hopes against hope that she's too small and too strange for the Romans to know to look for.

Lucky for her, dusk is dimming everything. If they come this way, they won't likely spot her. As long as the Romans have existed, and have been ruling Orbis, they STILL haven't invented NV goggles...

Below, she can hear them crawling around. Some of them shout at one another, in Latin.

Now she can see some of them...out of the corners of her eyes. They don't all wear plumes. But some of their plumes are so big, they make Naevia wet.

She's not going to lie; she's had sex fantasies about being a Roman man's slave. But she WOULD be lying if she said she trusted any of her fantasies to happen, in the real world, as she would want them to. She knows, from experience, that men are bitches. As much as she will always love them... Some things are better wanted than had.

They're close. They're looking for things. As high and mighty as they tend to be, Naevia wouldn't expect them to become crazy enough to come up here, and look for humans hiding from them. As far as they're concerned, if one of their quarries is truly that smart, it would take more than the whole of the Roman race to subdue them. They shouldn't be able to subdue what they can't out-think. It'd be like trying to tether a cloud.

Only luck will save Naevia now. She's not afraid. She and luck, after all, have an understanding... (If she wasn't worried about giving away her position, and if she had a cigar and a light, she'd light a cigar, and blow some smoke, while thinking this...)