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Death of Commodus

Emperor Commodus is being strangled in his bath by the wrestler Narcissus after a failed poisoning attempt by his concubine Marcia. The assassination is the culmination of a conspiracy against the tyr

Setting

Private bath chamber within the imperial palace on Palatine Hill, Rome. The room is lined with marble and features a sunken bath filled with warm water. The space is intimate but lavishly decorated, with steam rising from the water's surface.

Characters

Commodus
primary
A man in his early 30s with a muscular but slightly softened physique from recent indulgence. His face bears the symmetrical features prized by Roman nobility, now distorted by habitual sneers. Dark curls frame a face with piercing eyes that dart suspiciously. His skin shows faint traces of cosmetic oils and the pallor of someone who spends too much time indoors.
Narcissus
primary
A powerfully built wrestler in his early 30s, with broad shoulders and thick, corded muscles honed from years of training. His olive skin bears the marks of past matches—knotted scar tissue along his forearms and a flattened nose from repeated breaks. Dark, close-cropped hair frames a square jaw clenched with determination. His hands are massive, fingers calloused from grappling.
Marcia
secondary
A striking woman in her late 20s with a lithe, graceful build, olive skin, and dark, almond-shaped eyes. Her long, curly black hair is loosely pinned up, revealing delicate golden earrings. A faint scar runs along her left collarbone, hidden beneath her clothing.
Palace Guard
background
A tall, broad-shouldered man in his early 30s, with a muscular build typical of a trained soldier. His face bears the marks of previous battles, including a faint scar across his left cheekbone. His dark hair is cropped short in military fashion, and his expression is one of disciplined alertness.

Dialog

Commodus Do the gods envy us, Marcia? For even Hercules never knew such comforts as these baths... and yet, my stomach churns as if poisoned by Hydra's bile...
Marcia Divine One, perhaps the vapors disagree with you... Shall I call for Narcissus? His strong hands could ease your suffering.
Narcissus The hold is set.
Commodus What—? You dare lay hands upon your god?! The Colossus will crush this insolent—
Narcissus No more rising.
Marcia The Senate's will be done.
Commodus Jupiter... witness... how... they... betray...

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