Report from Corstopitum, 18 September 2006

Kemarik

Kemarik awoke from his peaceful slumber to a new day in the town of Corstopitum located in the northern reaches of the Roman Empire on the island of Briton. It was a day full of promise as he had a gladiator contest in the Arena to attend as an enthusiastic spectator as well as a mission that night he had been hired to perform and expected to be well paid for.
As Kemarik strolled through the cobblestoned streets greeting various friends he had come to know over the past several months, he reflected on the state and general health of the town he had come to call home. Although many new people from all over the Empire had arrived to settle the area when he did, Kemarik wondered why the population did not continue to grow considering the many opportunities that the area seemed to have. Never seeing the entire citizenry gathered at any one time or place, Kemarik thought there were perhaps 200 or maybe 250 who also called this town their home and have participated in the growing industries and helped bolstered the defense of the town against the occasional barbarian raid. A goodly portion of the townspeople had joined one of the legions housed in Corstopitum and spent much of their time up at Hadrian's Wall or beyond policing the barbarian tribes who seem to always have trouble living in peace with each other.
Kemarik, taking a break from his usual routine of training up his combat skills in the arena, spent the morning helping a new friend build a retting pit. While the friend did most of the digging, Kemarik was instrumental in keeping the tools used in good repair and helping to haul water and mud up from the river bank. At completion, the retting pit was sold to a local farmer for a goodly sum. Neither Kemarik nor his friend knew what the farmer did with retting pits but they had seen people throwing bales of some kind of crop they grew into them as part of a curing process.
After a quick stop at the baths and then putting on his best, yet modest, finery, Kemarik proceeded to the Arena where he was lucky to find a seat in the front row up in the gallery. With nearly 40 people in attendance, this was going to be the largest event witnessed in recent history in the town. It was especially interesting because the local magistrate had ordered the roman guards to stand down as a group of barbarian warriors were allowed to enter the town unharmed so they too could participate in the games. For two hours, the arena roared with applause, taunts, laughter, and the occasional praise as the contests, sometimes between two individuals and sometimes between teams of fighters, happened one after the other on the dirt floor of the Arena. Although many gladiators walked away with only minor wounds, some were delivered fatal blows and had to be carted away accompianed by the roar of the crowd. Much open gambling was taking place as some of the more wealthy citizens placed bets for their favorite warriors.
During one scheduled break in the fighting, the master of ceremonies ajudicated a baking contest as well as a tool crafting contest. One baker, having presented the highest quality loaf, walked away with a prize. A smith who presented the finest handsaw ever seen by all was also awarded a prize.
In the evening Kemarik joined up with some friends and together they quietly walked into the night. They had been hired to haul iron ore back from the mine in Cirsium which was about a 90 minute walk to the west. Kemarik had not been out of town for quite some time and was pleased to see so many beautiful trees and bushes spread across the land. He had not remembered seeing so many before but dismissed the thought and just enjoyed the scenery. In the darkest of the night, Kemarik became seperated from his friends during the journey but was not concerned as all knew the way.
By himself now, Kemarik climbed the steep hill to the mines and was shocked to not see the usual contingent of roman guards patrolling about. Either they were not doing their duty or had been killed and hauled off somewhere. Creeping up to peak from behind a stone building, Kemarik saw a couple strangers working the mines and packing up iron ore. Not daring to confront these two possibly hostile individuals, Kemarik spied a large pile of ore spread near him and quietly picked up as much as he could carry. After creeping slowly out of earshot into the dark, he jogged all the way back to his home town through the wilderness without meeting any other strangers.
After being paid handsomely by the smith for the load of iron ore, Kemarik, weary from a very long day and night, drifted off to sleep in his quarters eager to meet another interesting day on the morrow.