Verres' head swam with a million multicolored stars the first moment he regained conscience. Every blink was a hammer strike on his head, which swelled with a wicked bruise; this was confirmed by a gentle yet painful touch of the back of his head.

Eyes regaining focus, Verres found himself in a dingy, dirty apartment, no doubt somewhere in the heart of Subura. Thirsty and hungry, the question of how he got here and what had happened slowly dawned on him. Across the way (really only a few feet away), was a huge lug of a man. He looked on at his patient. He pointed to a earthenware bowl and said: "I bet you're thirsty. Water."

"Who....wait, Marcus? How did I get here?" Verres knew Marcus well. Marcus was something of a follower of Lucius, blindly believing everything he said, ever since he first met him speaking for the elections. Marcus meant well, but wasn't bright.

"You're not going to like this." Marcus hesitated. "When things were getting bad at the forum, I knew you would stand up against the tyrant. I don't think you should die Lucius, you need to bring your word to the people and free us. You are too important to the Subura Lucius!"

Lucius laid his head back down. 'Oh brother. My opportunity of sweet release or glory in battle thrown away.' "And so you club me?!"

"I knew you wouldn't listen. You never do when you get worked up like that." Marcus said plaintativly.

"Ah very well. I am a dead man now you know. I can't stay here...unless I have support." His eyes looked over at Marcus.

"What would you have me do Lucius?" Marcus asked standing at attention.

"Collect our friends and tell them that Lucius isn't ready to give up yet. Tell them to start causing more trouble. I don't care how, just let them know trouble has a strangle hold on Rome. Start getting men together Marcus. Tell them success equals libertas....and gold..."