Visit Darius, your wealthiest friend.

If you wish to climb the social ladder, it's hard to do so without an understanding of the ways that the upper class live and work. You decide to visit your friend, Darius Quintillius, who's among the wealthiest people you know.

Donning your toga, you head out into Rome's busy streets. The hustle and bustle of the city surrounds you as you make your way through the somewhat-better-than-middle-class neighborhood in which your family home stands. Crossing down into the valley, you skirt the Viminal Hill and head to the slopes of the Esquiline, at the foot of which the Quintillius manor stands. The Viminal Hill is less densely covered in buildings than most of Rome, and as you approach you appreciate the cool breeze wafting off the garden-covered hill into the city. You find Darius's family home and are admitted by a servant, who brings you to a sitting room where you find your friend, being poured wine by a ****.

"Ah, Gaius!" Darius is a tall, striking man with dark hair and a protruding chin. Some think him good-looking; others regard his looks as a little too sharp for good taste. "Come in, come in, my friend. I'm glad to see you're able to be on your feet so early, after that party we threw you last night! {if Tanis > 0}I hope you enjoyed that tight little Phoenician - she seemed like quite the minx!{endif}{if Betua >= 0}We had quite the time with that flame-haired Gaul of yours; I was worried we might wear her out. How is she doing?{elseif Betua <= 0}We had quite the time with that flame-haired Gaul of yours; I was worried we might wear her out. How is she doing?{endif}"

You grin, crossing to clasp his hand. "{if Betua > 0}She is not too poorly, Darius. But no need to worry about that right now.{elseif Betua < 0}Recalcitrant to some degree - but then, I've heard Gauls often are. Not to worry - I'll break her in!" Darius chuckles. "{endif}Thank you again for such a lavish celebration. I remain indebted to you."

Darius waves his hand. "Nonsense, nonsense - the least one can do for a friend. Sit, please. Have some wine." The **** has poured you a glass preemptively, and places it into your hand. "Leave us," Darius orders, and the man bows, withdrawing from the room as you and Darius recline.

Your friend gazes across the salon at you, sipping from his cup as you do the same. You enjoy the buzz of the wine through your head, but Darius speaks first. "In some ways, I envy you, you know. Just come of age, and both parents gone! Well, I would never wish ill on my parents - but there must be a certain freedom that comes with that. You're a man who can do whatever you will, now."

You shrug. "I'm free in some ways, yes - but then again, no man is completely free of obligations at our status. I have loyalties to my friends, including you, to my estate, to the Emperor, of course. But I confess I enjoy not having to worry about my father's approval or disapproval. We were different men, though affectionate."

"Aye, I can imagine." Darius nods solemnly, remembering your father. "A good man, he was. But! Enough with the maudlin talk. Something beyond simple friendship must have brought you to my doorstep this morning. What can I do for you?"