The Black Sea of Death

**Prologue: For the Glory of Rome** Oh, what a wonderful time to be alive. Rome has awaited reconquest by her rightful controllers for the greater portion of a century, and now our celebrated emperor, Justinian, has acquired it from the hands of the vile Goths! Certainly, 476 will be the year that we remember as our greatest disgrace, and 536 as our greatest triumph. Surely, God's grace has delivered us this victory, and His continued support shall bring the empire into a new stage of eminence. Rome is on the path for regaining her old borders, long lost to the barbarians of the North... soon, we shall see Rome truly reborn! **For Rome!** [[Romae, in aeternum!]] [[Ai, but what scholars have taken note of this, for all of history to cherish?]]

**Chapter One: Moesia, a Calm Land** Your name is Marcus Fundanius Iustinus, nephew-by-rite to Flavius Marcianus Petrus Theodorus Valentinus Rusticius Boraides Germanus Iustinus, consul of Rome, and himself, newphew of Justinian. Your uncle's prestigious position has laid much wealth and influence upon the non-imperial portions of the family, and your compeers have graciously decided to bestow upon you a lavish estate. Your latifundium may produce enough olive oil, wine, and cattle to feed the whole of Constantinople! Much will be needed, of course; the patricians are dining extravagantly in triumphal adoration for the emperor's success in Italy. Rome was finally taken back from the Ostrogoths in 536, and not half a year ago, the Ostrogoths' capital of Ravenna (which was once a capital of the Western Roman Empire), was taken by Belisarius. [[What better way to prove myself than by making my family even wealthier?]]

You pause briefly to get your bearings, then ask your servant just how long he was observing you before making his presence known. "Only a moment, master, your sharp eyes noticed me quite quickly. I apologize for the intrusion... I have an emergency notice from, well, your uncle, delivered in haste from Constantinople mere days ago." The man kneels in front of you and presents the unopened scroll. You take it, dismiss him, and carefully break the seal and begin reading. "To all of the family Iustinus, There have been rumors of late, regarding a horrific disease that has arisen in Egypt. This plague is not the measles, nor smallpox, nor tuberculosis. It is thus far an unknown, and truly devestating affliction. Already, the port at Pelusium has been closed, and the city's merchants are restricted, but I fear this new foul miasma may already be in the cargo of ships that left before the quarantine...be wary of any exchanges you have made with Egyptians of late; may God have mercy on our bodies and souls. -Consul Iustinus [[I'm sure it's nothing to be concerned about->hm]]

The slave silently kneels in front of your desk and presents the scroll. You take it and signal for him to leave, all without a word. Once he is gone, you undo the seal and read: "To all of the family Iustinus, There have been rumors of late, regarding a horrific disease that has arisen in Egypt. This plague is not the measles, nor smallpox, nor tuberculosis. It is thus far an unknown, and truly devestating affliction. Already, the port at Pelusium has been closed, and the city's merchants are restricted, but I fear this new foul miasma may already be in the cargo of ships that left before the quarantine...be wary of any exchanges you have made with Egyptians of late; may God have mercy on our bodies and souls. -Consul Iustinus [[Hm.->hm]]

You immediately lay into the wretch, making it quite clear that the only thing stopping a physical punishment is the good mood you were in before he got here (and he quite certainly ruined that for you, didn't he?) He apologizes profusely for his ill manners before kneeling in front of your desk and presenting the scroll to you. You take it and tell the man to scram, before he may upset you further. Once he has left, you break the seal on the paper and open it... "To all of the family Iustinus, There have been rumors of late, regarding a horrific disease that has arisen in Egypt. This plague is not the measles, nor smallpox, nor tuberculosis. It is thus far an unknown, and truly devestating affliction. Already, the port at Pelusium has been closed, and the city's merchants are restricted, but I fear this new foul miasma may already be in the cargo of ships that left before the quarantine...be wary of any exchanges you have made with Egyptians of late; may God have mercy on our bodies and souls. -Consul Iustinus [[Well, that's just fantastic->hm]] (set:$anger to 1)

You began the process of overseeing your new acquisition not but a few weeks ago, and the excitement of it all is still fresh in your mind. Ledgers, letters, logs, and lists... that is what you spend your days scanning over, desperately attempting to prove your worth by turning the biggest profits possible. Boring work to many men, certainly, but not to you. Despite their insistance that their investment in you was in good faith, you still feel an overwhelming urge to impress your family. Of course, many Romans are adopted into successful families, but the consul? Although the title did not hold the responsibilities that it had under Republican Rome, it was still beyond prestigious. You were lucky, perhaps. Now is the time to prove yourself worthy of that luck. You are in such deep thought, staring vacantly at a scroll bearing the names of the overseers in charge of your vast number of slaves, that you do not notice one such slave meekly enter your room unannounced; he bears little more than a candlelight in one hand, and an unbroken piece of parchment in the other. You just barely notice him after a short moment, and jump in your chair with a small start. [[Lambast the servant for entering your private quarters without your permission! How dare he!?!]] [[Inquire to how long he was standing there before he made his presence known.]] [[Silently gesture for the parchment.]]

The letter is not the first you have heard of this mysterious illness that obliterated the Egyptian ports. Your cousin Tiberius Fundanius Regulus, who lives in Alexandria, had heard that the governor of Aegyptus fled to a remote camp along the shore in hopes of escaping the disease. Tiberius had furiously written to you about this matter several weeks prior, venting at Justinian's poor choice in governor (at least, in his opinion). The man, Liberius, had been governor of Aegyptus since 538, but that didn't stop him from attempting to save his own hide in place of his people's. (if:$anger>=1)[[[How despicable]]] [[Who could blame him? This plague sounds horrific.->Who could blame him?]] [[So long as he governs, does it matter from where?]]

That a man of his position would take up his office and flee is atrocious. Hopefully this behavior does not reflect on the rest of Rome... Justinian cannot have all his governors being craven, lest the entire empire be governless in times of pandemic! [[Im still seething over it!->Back to business]] (set:$anger to 2)

Honestly, who could blame the governor for retreating from his opulent palace? The man still governs Aegyptus; from afar, yes, but he still upholds his position! If anything, he shows intelligence for avoiding the sickly masses whose vicious miasma would infect him at the slightest opprotunity! [[Calling an intelligent man craven is a way for brutes to exercise power->Back to business]] (set:$coward to 1)

Honestly. Cousin Tiberius is far too hot-headed to be making such claims on the integrity of a Roman official. I do not care if the governors of the provinces ruled from the tiniest isles of the Mediterranean, or from as far off as Scythia, so long as they do their job and do it well. [[No matter, my cousin is a fool, leave it at that.->Back to business]]

Anyway, that's a matter for someone else to handle. For now, the plague is an Egyptian issue, and you doubt the disease's next target would be an isolated Moesian estate. It would probably be best to let this whole thing handle itself, after all, you have to keep the wine flowing! [[All this thought of plague has me exhausted, time to go to bed.]] [[Well... I know it's probably excessive, and my family would loathe me, but I think it would be best to flee into the deep countryside now. Just to be safe. Like the governor.]]

**Chapter Two: The Plague Cometh*** Several months pass... "To all of the family Iustinus, As I am sure you are aware, the plague of God has been spreading along the shores of //Mare Nostrum//, and now, Constantinople cannot claim to be immune. Justinian, imperator to all, has been afflicted with the damnabled malaise, and the laymen expire in droves. Indeed, God has deemed neither the huddled masses nor our most exalted ruler excusable from his spite. I urge you to avoid contact with major centers of trade, whatever the cost, lest the entire family be wiped out in one fell swoop! -Consul Iustinus [[Indeed, you are aware. All too aware]]

**Epilogue** Well, I suppose that's one way to save your skin in the face of danger: run far away! Unfortunately, the plague was no excuse to flee in the eyes of your brethren, and you are quickly hunted down and captured by mercenaries. While being transported back to Constantinople for questioning, your captors have a scuffle and only one man comes out alive, intent on receiving your entire bounty himself. Unfortunately for you, halfway to the capital, your captor passes out and bludgeons his head on the cobblestone path; you are certain you see discolored growths on his upper legs and neck, sure signs of the plague. With no way to undo the chains binding you to a post, you are left to slowly starve. [[**Your Ending: Died, But Not to the Plague**->Prologue: For the Glory of Rome.]]

The merry atmosphere that was providing you with unending customers and good company has completely vanished. The plague has crept up the shores of the Mediterranean, along Cyrenaica and Judea, straight through Antioch and across the isles of Crete and Rhodes... now not even Constantinople is safe. Hordes of peaseants, clergy, patricians, and administrators die every day. And now, apparently, even the emperor has been struck down. Worst of all, the armies have been decimated. The Goths, once on the edge of destruction only a season ago, have rekindled their strength and are pushing back Roman control over Italy. There is no manpower to draw from in the empire anymore, and so many farmers have expired that grain supplies have fallen to a tremendous low. Not even a drought would have done this much damage. [[Why...? We were on top of the world...]]

Your uncle is consul. He is, de facto, one of the most powerful men in the empire. But that title long lost its true meaning, and the consul is little more than a figurehead in the Roman Empire. Quite a far cry from the days of the Republic, at least. However, the position has never been held by someone of so much merit at time when the emperor was struck down with illness. At times like these, a powerful general or official would usually take the place of the emperor, permanently or otherwise, but no one wants to take hold of the empire at such a cataclysmic time. [[But I have heard a name, of one who would control Rome...]]

Theodora. Justinian's wife. She was a concubine before she met Justinian, but her incredibly sharp mind has led her to be one of the most powerful women in history. Now, in Justinian's absence, she has taken charge of the throne of Constantinople. (if:$anger>=1)[[[A woman...a woman controls the Roman world, during this disaster?]]] (if:$anger<1)[[[She is competent beyond measure, and a worthy leader]]] (if:$anger<1)[[[Who cares who rules, so long as they pull Rome through this disaster?]]]

**Epilogue** <img src="https://opusmei.files.wordpress.com/2012/06/chucked_off_the_tarpeian_rock.jpg" width="600" height="300"> Well, that was a disaster. You attempted to organize a coup against Theodora and Justinian in the name of your uncle, Iustin, but there was essentially zero support. It occured to you, after several days of attempting to stir feelings, that you hadn't even asked your uncle if he even wanted to be emperor. Eventually, you asked the wrong man if you wanted to help assassinate a sovereign, and you were arrested for conspiracy to kill the emperor. Your sentence was immediate and just: death, by being thrown into the straits of the Bosphorus. On the bright side, at least it wasn't the plague that got your hot-head killed. [[**Your ending: Died, But Not to the Plague**->Prologue: For the Glory of Rome.]]

Well, Theodora has publicly declared that she is only Empress-regent of the Empire until her husband recovers (and, of course, he will recover). For now, maybe, it might be best to just let the matter settle. [[I'll be watching her...->Who cares who rules, so long as they pull Rome through this disaster?]]

Well, Theodora has publicly declared that she is only Empress-regent of the Empire until her husband recovers. If he is claimed by the disease, well, by law Justin II would take over the throne. Theodora would have to fight quite the battle to keep the throne in those circumstances. For now, it may be better to just let the matter settle. [[I'll be watching her...->Who cares who rules, so long as they pull Rome through this disaster?]]

**Epilogue** <img src="https://opusmei.files.wordpress.com/2012/06/chucked_off_the_tarpeian_rock.jpg" width="600" height="300"> Well, that was a disaster. You thought long and hard about the issues plaguing the Empire, issues that have never been brought before the world before. Lone men - exalted as they may be - simply aren't capable of dealing with such apocalyptic conditions. Previous emperors had capitulated to less. With this in mind, you set out about trying to find Republicans throughout the capital, men who would have the Roman Republic that existed before Caesar reinstated. Unfortunately, such thoughts are, of course, highly illegal. Eventually, you brought the matter up with the wrong man, whom promptly had you arrested. Republicans aren't welcome anywhere in the empire, let alone its capital. Your sentence was immediate and just: death, by being thrown into the straits of the Bosphorus. [[**Your ending: Died, But Not to the Plague**->Prologue: For the Glory of Rome.]]

You immediately set out upon rallying your peers behind your name, an adopted...nephew...of...well. It quickly occurs to you that no one really knows your name, outside of the family. There is no support. No armies answer to you. No generals are friend to you. Thankfully, this incredible realization occurs shortly after you decided to start down this path, and despite your anger at Theodora's dictatorship over the Roman Empire, you realize that you simply aren't influential enough to have any real say in the matter. [[I'll be watching her...->Who cares who rules, so long as they pull Rome through this disaster?]]

Never before has a woman controlled Rome. Only the likes of Cleopatra had ever ruled a country, and even then she was a slave to the machinations of Caesar and his foes! She will surely drive this mighty nation into the ground, and you will not let my family fall victim to her idiocy! Your sure others agree... and, you're sure, there is much popular support against her. You know just who to rally behind to dethrone this wench! [[My uncle, Iustinus, consul of Rome, should become dictator!]] [[Justinian, and no one else, should control Rome!]] [[The heir to Justinian, Justin II, should rule Rome.]] [[I, yes, I, should control Rome.]] [[No one man should control Rome...]] [[I've never cared much for politics, to be honest. I'll just let the matter settle...->Who cares who rules, so long as they pull Rome through this disaster?]]

The emperor, or empress, is but a single person. The plague is a miasma, encompassing the entirety of the empire. You cannot hope that you will not be one of the unfortunate thousands who have already been struck down. (if:$coward<=0)[[[I said it before and I'll say it again: Why would a miasma of death spread out this far into the countryside? I have nothing to fear.]]] (if:$coward<=0)[[[The clerics say that they know of the cure to this disease, I shall go see if this is true.->The clerics say that they know the cure to this disease. I shall go visit the nearest monastery, and hear what they say.]]] (if:$coward>=1)[[[I feel like now would be a good time to take my leave...]]] (if:$coward>=1)[[[There are many small islands in the Mediterranean...perhaps, I shall take an "extended vacation".]]] (if:$coward<=0)[[[The plague already struck Egypt. I shall go there, surely the miasma has dissapated by now!]]]

Never before has a woman controlled Rome. Only the likes of Cleopatra had ever ruled a country, and even then she was a slave to the machinations of Caesar and his foes! She will surely drive this mighty nation into the ground, and you will not let my family fall victim to her idiocy! Your sure others agree... and, you're sure, there is much popular support against her. You know just who to rally behind to dethrone this wench! (if:$anger>=2)[[[My uncle, Iustinus, consul of Rome, should become dictator!]]] (if:$anger>=2)[[[Justinian, and no one else, should control Rome!]]] (if:$anger>=2)[[[The heir to Justinian, Justin II, should rule Rome.]]] (if:$anger>=2)[[[I, yes, I, should control Rome.]]] (if:$anger>=2)[[[No one man should control Rome...]]] (if:$anger<=1)[[[You know...really, though. I've never cared much for politics, to be honest. I'll just let the matter settle. After all, there are more important matters at hand.->Who cares who rules, so long as they pull Rome through this disaster?]]]

lala

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Theodora has taken full charge of the empire in Justinian's time of trial, and there is no doubt in your mind that she has the full capacity to lead Rome. Certainly, there are few women who have ruled any country, let alone Rome, but these are desperate times. And there are few women akin to Theodora. That some would find her rulership unacceptable is apalling, but there are more pressing matters at hand. [[Theodora, Justinian, does it matter?->Who cares who rules, so long as they pull Rome through this disaster?]]

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The plague has been spreading for many months now, and yet, no one on your plantation has felt its effects. Of course, customers are few, but that's little price to pay in escaping death. You have decided to wait out this pandemic on your estate - that you were put in charge of it just before the outbreak was clearly an act of Providence. [[God wanted me to be safe here, whilest he punishes sinners elsewhere]]

**Chapter Three: A Time To Take Action*** Since time immemorial, the clergy have taken care of the wounded and sick of Rome. Even before the righteous conversion to Christianity, they held this role. Now, influential clergymen in Theodora's court claim to have the answer to the plague; a way to survive its damning effects. [[Well what am I waiting for? To Constantinople!]]

There is no doubt in your mind that to stay here would be folly. However, while major ports in Cyprus, Crete, and Rhodes have been struck by the plague, there are a miriad of inconsequential isles littered around the Mediterranean. Now would be a lovely time to get away from civilization for some "fresh air". You are VERY tired of smelling the pus from your slaves' quarters, after all. [[To the nearest docks, I need a boat to...somewhere!]]

**Chapter Three: A Time To Take Action*** It has been many months since the plague first left Egypt's many ports to spread around Rome. Although there still may be pockets of the miasma left about, surely the local populace has been nearly voided of sinners and filth. You make arrangements to visit a cousin who presides over an estate along the Nile, not dissimilar to your own. [[The plague has already eradicated everything that required eradicating in Aegyptus.]]

**Epilogue** Your decision to wait out the plague ended up being...well, unwise. Your logic may have seemed infallible, but the plague is far-reaching and ever expanding. Within a few short weeks, your slaves begin to cough and sputter, and the foul stench of bubos begins to eminate from their quarters. Shortly after, you begin coughing, yourself. And it becomes harder to get out of bed in the morning. And then, whilest bathing yourself one day, you see the telltale green pustules on your inner thighs... [[**Your Ending: Died To The Plague - In The Comfort Of Your Home, Atleast**->Prologue: For the Glory of Rome.]]

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You quickly make your way to the Capitol, avoiding anyone on the road who looks to be any less than the pinnacle of health. Upon your arrival, you are meeted by a truly disasterous sight: bodies. Bodies, everywhere. The streets are barely traversable, as the officials in charge of clearing the roads are unable to keep up with the thousand who are dying. [[Vomit]] [[Make your way to the Hagia Sophia, as quickly as your horse's legs will take you]]

You quietly make your way to the docks of Odessus, the capital of Moesia, and with enough inquiring (and greasing of palms), you manage to board a sparcely-manned ship to the small isle of Aphousia, just off the shores of Thrake. Despite its proximity to the mainland, it is popularly used an island for exiles to live out the rest of their days. As it so happens, you manage to make it through the voyage in one piece and without breathing in any miasma. Upon your arrival, you are greeted by no one. Evidently, Justinian didn't have much need to exile his political opponents. Or, at least, he didn't exile them here. [[The less people, the better...]]

**Epilogue** You managed to settle into the lonely island, after finally finding the local garrison. They take quite a bit of convincing that you are, in fact, not a political exile. The lack of a military escort eventually wins you their trust, and you begin your time slowly wasting the days away. You intended to leave for home when you heard news of the plague calming down, but several months into your self-imposed exile, a messenger arrives bearing nothing but words for you. "Marcus, your family is appalled that you would abandon your post, regardless of the circumstances. I am, however, pleased to tell you that you shall not be called in for a trial. They have decided to, well, exile you. Here, in fact. So you may stay, alive. But you no longer carry the Iustin name, you are as lowly as me." The man smirks evilly, something you've never seen a servant do before in your life... Before you can respond, he turns away and mounts a horse, already returning to his vessel. You are young. But there is no way to escape this island without a boat - and now that you are required to stay here, the local guards watch you like hawks. You are resigned to spending the rest of your natural life here on this island, away from the carnage ravaging the world, but with no say in it... At least you survived. [[**Your ending: Self-Imposed Exile**->Prologue: For the Glory of Rome.]]

You make your way across the Mediterranean with little difficulty, all things considered. Upon arriving at the mouth of the Nile, you mount a horse and quickly begin making your way up the river to the town of Heracleopolis, just South of Memphis. It takes several days, but your gut was right. The plague has already passed through Egypt, and the land is beginning to recover. The dead have been buried, and the living are no longer terrified to be out of their homes. You arrive at your cousin's estate without any difficulty. [[He greets me with open arms.]]

You vomit profusely. [[Good Lord, I have to get to the Church, quickly!->Make your way to the Hagia Sophia, as quickly as your horse's legs will take you]]

You arrive at the Hagia Sophia. It is a marvelous structure, the largest cathedral in the world (a record you are sure it shall keep for at least a millenium). Justinian had commissioned its construction following the destruction of the previous cathedral - by rioters, early in his reign. [[Their violence and idiocy birthed the greatest architecture ever erected!]]

Sadly, the Hagia Sophia has had little time to be splendid. Now, in this time of great upheavel, it is crowded with the sick of Constantinople. The clergy is buzzing throughout its many corridors and domes like bees in a hive, attempting to attend to the many thousands who crowd the holy halls. You attempt to stop one of the clergymen to ask of the highest ranking member available for a meeting. He merely shakes his head at you and continues on his way. [[What? I am the nephew of the consul. I must hear of this "cure" they have spoke of!]]

You roam the halls of the Cathedral, attempting to find a priest who isn't actively swarming the building. You eventually come across - oh my. You come across the Patriach of Constantinople, The Ecumenical Patriarch. The holiest figure in Christianity. His All Holiness, Menas. He is sitting on an engraved bench, under an alcove in one of the many hallways. He looks so very tired. [[I shall Greet His Holiness, and request his company.]] [[He looks exhausted by all the turmoil... and I am but a lowly politician, I shouldn't bother the Holiest man in the world...]] [[Silently sit next to him.]]

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The man looks up at you with empty eyes. These months have drained him immensely, and it would seem he has personally taken part in aiding the ill. Quite a commendable feat, considering his lofty position. That being said, he seems gracious that you aren't a priest requesting something of him, and he permits you to sit with him. [[So... you have a cure?]]

You turn away from His Holiness, and make your way through the halls a myriad of times. After several hours of no success (and much unholy language spouted your way for constantly bothering people), you attempt to find the Patriarch again, but he has disappeared. [[It is late...]]

The Patriarch barely acknowleges you. He continues to sit in silence, and despite your previous agency you find yourself just enjoying the quiet along with him. It's surreal - you're sharing a moment of peace with the holiest man in the world. [[Inquire about the cure, after a few more moments of rest.->So... you have a cure?]] [[Rise, pay him your respects, and leave. He doesn't need you bothering him.->He looks exhausted by all the turmoil... and I am but a lowly politician, I shouldn't bother the Holiest man in the world...]]

You meekly ask his Holiness if the rumors you have heard are true - that the Church has been graced by God with the knowledge of how to cure this horrible disease, and how to prevent it. Alas, the look on his face tells you everything. "The rumors are just that, I'm afraid. Rumors. Spirited words by hopeful vagabonds, trying to bring hope to their families and friends. We have been tending to the diseased, bringing the Lord's mercy unto them in this time of trial... but their lives are in His hands, not ours." [[I came all this way...]]

You are exhausted from being on your feet all day, and with great regret, you make your way to a local inn to stay the night. You try to find the best location you can to hopefully avoid any plague-bearers. As you lay on your bed, all you can hear is the sound of coughing and desperate wails. [[The nightmares...the screams... is this hell on Earth?]]

**Epilogue** You eventually manage to get to your uncle's home on the far side of Constantinople. He isn't there. No slaves are there, either. It is seemingly abandoned. You ask anyone authoritative looking if they know what happened to your uncle, and eventually you come across an answer: he is no longer in Constantinople. He is also no longer consul; he has left his post slightly early to command military posts in the Balkans. You are too far removed to hope to meet with any of the imperial court - your uncle was your only hope with interacting with the bureaucrats of this city. You make your way to the docks of Constantinople, and find a ship bound for Odessus, the capital of Moesia. Mid-voyage, you are leering over the railing in a sad state of deep thought when you hear a rattling cough behind you. You turn around to see a crew member vomitting blood all over the boards of the ship. The plague is on board, and you won't arrive at Odessus for at least a few days. There is no way to avoid it at this point. [[**Your ending: Died To The Plague, Bound For Home**->Prologue: For the Glory of Rome.]]

You awake from your terror-filled slumber early in the morning, before the sun has even arisen. You make your way down into the lobby and leave, intent on visiting your uncle instead of the church. However, the stablemaster you left your horse with is nowhere to be seen. No one is there to retrieve your steed. The city is, despite the time, alive. And dead. You are forced to slowly make your way through the decaying streets, nearly tripping over bodies several times and just barely keeping yourself from vomitting. [[The miasma is thick.]]

You are struck by this news. You had sincerely hoped that the Holiest men in the empire had been blessed with a cure, but... but it was a lie. You quietly excuse yourself from the bench, and make your way out of the Hagia Sophia. The red sun of dusk is glowing gloomily over the horizon, painting the front of the Cathedral a brilliant red. [[My uncle... my uncle could help me.->It is late...]] [[I think... I think I'm just going to go home.]]

**Epilogue** You make your way to the docks of Constantinople, and find a ship bound for Odessus, the capital of Moesia. Despite the time, it is leaving shortly. One bit of pleasant news in this damned city. Mid-voyage, you are leering over the railing in a sad state of deep thought when you hear a rattling cough behind you. You turn around to see a crew member vomitting blood all over the boards of the ship. The plague is on board, and you won't arrive at Odessus for at least a few days. There is no way to avoid it at this point. [[**Your ending: Died To The Plague, Bound For Home**->Prologue: For the Glory of Rome.]]

You have never met your cousin outside of a formal setting until today - nonetheless, he is ecstatic to meet a family member after the many months of isolation and death. You both recount tales of the plague - you give him news of Constantinople and the ports of Greece, and he gives you chilling descriptions of what transpired months earlier there in Aegyptus. [[He has agreed to let me stay for several weeks, in light of everything.]]

**Epilogue** Your cousin's hospitality is lovely. In many ways, the area seems untouched by the plague. The only telltale sign is large vacancies in local housing and the lack of servants to attend his estate. After a month of staying with your cousin, you are regretfully required to make your way back home. Retracing your steps, you are able to return to a port in Macedonia and slowly trudge back to Moesia. Your estate is waiting for you - only, with no one there. All the slaves, the overseers, the guards, everyone is gone. You make your way to the nearest village and ask about what happened. As it turns out, the plague struck like a bolt from the Pagan god Zeus, all but completely erradicating the local population and your estate. Anyone who didn't die, fled. About a week ago, some "cleaners" came by the estate and spent several days removing the last of the dead bodies and cleansing the terrain - many corpses had been left to rot in the open air. They did a miraculous job, at least. The estate seemed deserted, not full of decay. But now you have a farm with no workers... Oh well. You are certain that your family will arrange for more slaves to be sent your way, and for now...you survived. [[**Your Ending: Survived, No Strings Attached**->Prologue: For the Glory of Rome.]]

**Sources** Dols, M. W. (1974). Plague in Early Islamic History. Journal of the American Oriental Society, 94(3). doi:10.2307/600071 Russell, J. C. (1968). That earlier plague. Demography, 5(1), 174-184. doi:10.1007/bf03208570 Rosen, W. (2008). Justinian's flea: The first great plague, and the end of the Roman Empire. New York, NY: Penguin Books. Little, L. K. (2009). Plague and the end of antiquity: The pandemic of 541-750. Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press. [[Romae, in aeternum!]]