Dear Journal:
The day of the feast arrived and my house was all abustle. I had picked out my best toga (the one with the bullseye on the back) and really spruced myself up. The mutts had picked one of their number to go in a growling, mumbling, rumbling session that had lasted the better part of an hour.
Mutt Three won the honor. Three had been bathed, perfumed and wore a laurel crown on her wrinkly head. She was so proud. She sat and wagged while the staff got gifts ready for Ceasar and helped my guards dress up.
Finally, all was ready. Out the door Mutt Three and I went to be greeted by an impressive display. One hundred Praetorians from all the Patrician Houses were in formation, with the litters of at least twenty Patricians and one empty one leading the way. I found out the empty litter was for me.
I wanted to walk, but my Guard Captain wouldn’t hear of it. If I walked like a commoner, it would disgrace my guards before the other Preatorians. That wasn’t going to happen. So, grumbling, I climbed into the litter and got settled. Mutt Three stationed herself by my litter, ready to go. So help me, I swear she was rumbling a song to herself.
Another force of about twenty some odd Praetorians formed up at the head of the procession, carrying the standards of all the Patricians present, including mine. I didn’t even know I had a standard.
A voice spoke up. “Like it?”
I looked to my left where the voice had come from. It was the Lady.
“Can’t go to the feast without a standard. Wouldn’t be proper.” She chuckled.
Removing a ring from her finger, she handed it to me and said “Wear this on your right forefinger. It’s an heirloom from the early days of my family. It should bring you good luck.”
I looked at the ring and noted an intricate design set into the square face, and recognised it. I stared in disbelief. It was the signet ring of Julius Ceasar, founder of the family of Augustus. This bit of jewelry had been worn by at least four Emperors and had been a symbol of Imperial authoity for at least a century.
The lady smiled a hard smile. “Put it on. Ceasar won’t dare touch you so long as you wear that ring, and everyone becomes aware that you wear it. Such is the power of history and legend. By the by. I should tell you that I have, this day, made you the sole heir to all I own. You are the heir to the House of Augustus. Congratulations fish monger. You’ve made it to the summit of the mountain.”
I sat there, dumbfounded, stunned. What had just happened? Simply this. One moment I had been a prisoner of the Empire and, in the next, become one of the most powerful peers of that same Empire. Heir to the House of Augustus!
‘Gulp!’
Well, this feast had taken on a whole new significance. I was no longer a pawn. Rather, now, I was one of the players. Jupiter help me.
So off we marched, to dinner and intrigue.
The Roman View 
This is getting really intriguing. 🙂
*snerk*
One thing I am ‘learning’ from Fable II is that history, and fate, can be changed by seemingly innocuous decisions and actions. AKA The Butterfly Effect.
Very much fun to play around with.