POMPEII

DIES SOLIS A.D. XII KAL. IVL. DCCCXXXII A.U.C. (20 June 79 CE)

It’s a fine thing to be a Roman. The mere fact of your election indicates that you have what it takes to do job. The citizens are the truest barometer of ability. It’s caused me no end of amusement to find myself elected Augur, here in Pompeii. Apparently, the mob is equipped as well to evaluate my otherworldly perceptions, my attention to the subtleties of our Gods-driven world.

I’ve had to start a new journal. Given the time that I spend watching the skies, I find my mind filling with all manner philosophic effluvia. Having been at this role for VII months, I find myself attuned to the nature of the omens I read and no longer needing the assistance of the professional bullshitters who actually run the temple. Yes, my mind drifts and a spill it all out onto these scrolls, like some sort of Greek.

Things of interest have been occurring. But I must go. My wife, Julia, has sent Gnosos to find me.

Written by: L. Claudius Pulcher

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