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Naraku
Draconarius
Not related to you I'm afraid.
Barbatus ? Really?
Barbatus comes from the Latin for "bearded". It was a family name of a branch of the Horatii gens going back to at least the fifth century BCE.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horatia_(gens)
messaline
Crucified Amazon
Indeed though that a film was made showing Messaline as the wife of Caligula : it was completelly false ! She was living at Lugdunum (actually Lyon / France) and was the third wife of Claude ( 38 or 39 ) before that he accessed to the rank of Emporor of Rome ...
Perhaps that her debauchery was exagerated but it's well known that she was rather nymphomaniacal
, like a great part of the women coming from the Patrician'families of Rome ...
Your dear "nympho" Messa
messaline
Crucified Amazon
Barbatus ? Really?
And a branch of the Domitii'gens was named Ahenobarbus ( From where the Emporor Nero was coming)
Ahenobarbus signified "barbe d'airain" , airin is a metal of which the color is red
But you're not redhaired, Barb ...
RacingRodent
Consul
So all I have got from that is don't marry blokes with beards, they are bad for your health.
RacingRodent
Consul
Tree has a beard
Well is it red?
We're both right, Naraku. Valeria Messalina was the wife of Claudius.
Statilia Messalina was the 3rd wife of Nero (who was her 5th husband!)
She survived Nero, and 'maintained a brilliant position...
noted for her eloquence and literary culture, as well as for her beauty'
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messaline
Crucified Amazon
Anyway, I know well with whom I was married !
very grey...
RacingRodent
Consul
You're probably safe company then.
and we well know your eloquence and literary culture, as well as beautyAnyway, I know well with whom I was married !
QEDTree has a beard
Naraku
Draconarius
Tree has a beard
Naraku also has a beard. It used to be black, now, like Tree's, it's gray.
The Julio-Claudian family tree is a bit of a mess. Which may explain why some of them were...eccentric.
This looks like one of those tables of elements...Naraku also has a beard. It used to be black, now, like Tree's, it's gray.
The Julio-Claudian family tree is a bit of a mess. Which may explain why some of them were...eccentric.
View attachment 448798
Naraku
Draconarius
RacingRodent
Consul
Right ladies and gentlemen back to the story, which shall involve an appearance by a young lady called Iphigenia and a town called Aulis...those familiar with the famous play...no spoilers 
The Port of Aulis was filled with ships. A forest of masts spread out from the docks to the waters of the roadsteads and the beaches spreading out from Aulis. Yet conspicuously not spreading were the sails. Banners drooped on their flag staffs and men drooped with boredom or contented themselves with wine or whores.
“Oh look I am an even better hunter than Artemis, oh great one Agamemnon, saying that where the Goddess could bloody well hear you in her own sacred woodlands,” Menelaus was walking up one of the beaches raging at his brother the High King.
“I assure you my Lord King that the matter is well in hand, the Goddess will be appeased,” Replied Calchas, Agamemnon’s chief augur.
“It had better bloody well be,” Snarled Menelaus, “That arse weasel Paris has his mitts on my Helen’s tits, I bet the slobbering dog is mauling them right now, it is an outrage and a slight to our family Agamemnon, if people don’t take us seriously then how long do you think your reign as High King will last?”
Agamemnon murmured something unintelligible as he shambled up the beach his head hanging down like an old man, aged and beaten.
“There, did you see that?” Achilles seemed oblivious to the mood around him, “Half way to Euboea.” He was amusing himself by throwing stones into the sea, pitching each one further than the last. The Myrmidons sent up a weak cheer.
“Not even a third the way old man,” Teased Patroclus.
“Humph I make you my cup bearer and you act like my clown,” Sniffed Achilles, “Look I’ll show you.” He picked up another pebble and rocked his arm back for the throw.
“Such manly arms my King,” Said the lilting young female voice and Messalios who had been doodling rude pictures on the sand looked up sharply.
“Why it is little Iffy, I haven’t seen you since you were a little girl, you’ve grown tits!” Achilles held his arm up as the princess recently sprung into womanhood dangled from it and squealed delightedly.
“It’s Iphigenia silly and we’re to be married,” She told him proudly.
“My Lady Clytemnestra is this true?” Asked Achilles.
“Indeed it is my Lord Achilles, I shall soon have gained a son in addition to my young Orestes,” The proud red headed woman smiled.
“Well we should go at once to Agamemnon, he went this way,” Achilles strode off, “Come along Messalios, you can be a bridesmaid and Patroclus you can be my second.”
“Wonderful,” Muttered Messalios a bit put out without quite being sure why. Patroclus just went bright red and then hurried after the growing marriage party.
Messalios dawdled along not really with the party but not entirely wishing to disobey Achilles and not be a part of the festivities. She thus a little late to the happy reunion between father and wife and daughter, she was further held up when Calchas came barrelling the other way.
“Out of my way, I have to make a big announcement to the army,” Calchas declared.
“Achilles and Iphigenia’s marriage, yes I know,” Replied Messalios stepping aside.
“The only thing that girl is marrying is a sacred knife,” Said the Priest cryptically hurrying away. Messalios stared after him a moment, did he mean Iphigenia was to become a Priestess? Maybe of Artemis as the rumour seemed to be the High King had offended the Goddess.
“You cannot do that!” Achilles was exploding with outrage by the time Messalios arrived.
“Out of the question, she is your own daughter,” Snapped Clytemnestra.
“Why, father, why?” Sobbed Iphigenia.
“Marriage off?” Murmured Messalios to Patroclus and slipped in among them.
“And then some,” He replied in a daze.
“I am putting a stop to this at once,” Achilles thundered, “Patroclus, Messalios with me.”
“Achilles be reasonable,” Agamemnon put out a restraining hand.
“You’ll see how reasonable I am in this face of this outrage,” Achilles shrugged off the hand, striding away.
“How can you do this to me?” Wept Iphigenia.
“How can you do this to her?” Wailed Clytemnestra.
“You had better not back out now,” Growled Menelaus.
Achilles had broken into a run and it was all that his companions could to keep up, Messalios was puffing when they returned to the camp of the Myrmidons and Patroclus did not look any better.
“Fetch your armour men,” Achilles commanded, “We have a young princess to save!”
“Now, now, my Lord Achilles, I have explained matters to your men,” Calchas came oiling up.
“Sorry Sire but it is the will of the Goddess,” Said one of the Myrmidons.
“But I am your King,” Achilles looked grief stricken.
“And Artemis is a Goddess, how can you ask mortal men to go up against that? Would you curse them and their families?” Calchas oozed.
“Sorry boss, we’re with you but not this,” Men looked at the ground shame faced and hardened warriors wept.
“No matter, Messalios, Patroclus you are with me?” Asked Achilles.
“Always my lo….King,” Patroclus stammered.
“Of course, I am an Amazon, never will I not fight for an innocent girl against her corrupt patriarch,” Messalios declared hotly.
Achilles’s lips moved as he replayed that statement in his head a couple of times, “I think that is a yes?”
“Of course,” Messalios looked fierce.
“Then we shall fight, I am an army in myself, let all Greece tremble for its three greatest warriors rage on the side of justice and the Furies guide our arms,” Achilles roared.
“My Lord King,” Calchas protested, “You cannot do this, all of Greece hangs in the balance.” Somewhere at the edges of everyone’s sight shades were gathering and the hungry bloodlust of gods and daemons roiled the air.
The Port of Aulis was filled with ships. A forest of masts spread out from the docks to the waters of the roadsteads and the beaches spreading out from Aulis. Yet conspicuously not spreading were the sails. Banners drooped on their flag staffs and men drooped with boredom or contented themselves with wine or whores.
“Oh look I am an even better hunter than Artemis, oh great one Agamemnon, saying that where the Goddess could bloody well hear you in her own sacred woodlands,” Menelaus was walking up one of the beaches raging at his brother the High King.
“I assure you my Lord King that the matter is well in hand, the Goddess will be appeased,” Replied Calchas, Agamemnon’s chief augur.
“It had better bloody well be,” Snarled Menelaus, “That arse weasel Paris has his mitts on my Helen’s tits, I bet the slobbering dog is mauling them right now, it is an outrage and a slight to our family Agamemnon, if people don’t take us seriously then how long do you think your reign as High King will last?”
Agamemnon murmured something unintelligible as he shambled up the beach his head hanging down like an old man, aged and beaten.
“There, did you see that?” Achilles seemed oblivious to the mood around him, “Half way to Euboea.” He was amusing himself by throwing stones into the sea, pitching each one further than the last. The Myrmidons sent up a weak cheer.
“Not even a third the way old man,” Teased Patroclus.
“Humph I make you my cup bearer and you act like my clown,” Sniffed Achilles, “Look I’ll show you.” He picked up another pebble and rocked his arm back for the throw.
“Such manly arms my King,” Said the lilting young female voice and Messalios who had been doodling rude pictures on the sand looked up sharply.
“Why it is little Iffy, I haven’t seen you since you were a little girl, you’ve grown tits!” Achilles held his arm up as the princess recently sprung into womanhood dangled from it and squealed delightedly.
“It’s Iphigenia silly and we’re to be married,” She told him proudly.
“My Lady Clytemnestra is this true?” Asked Achilles.
“Indeed it is my Lord Achilles, I shall soon have gained a son in addition to my young Orestes,” The proud red headed woman smiled.
“Well we should go at once to Agamemnon, he went this way,” Achilles strode off, “Come along Messalios, you can be a bridesmaid and Patroclus you can be my second.”
“Wonderful,” Muttered Messalios a bit put out without quite being sure why. Patroclus just went bright red and then hurried after the growing marriage party.
Messalios dawdled along not really with the party but not entirely wishing to disobey Achilles and not be a part of the festivities. She thus a little late to the happy reunion between father and wife and daughter, she was further held up when Calchas came barrelling the other way.
“Out of my way, I have to make a big announcement to the army,” Calchas declared.
“Achilles and Iphigenia’s marriage, yes I know,” Replied Messalios stepping aside.
“The only thing that girl is marrying is a sacred knife,” Said the Priest cryptically hurrying away. Messalios stared after him a moment, did he mean Iphigenia was to become a Priestess? Maybe of Artemis as the rumour seemed to be the High King had offended the Goddess.
“You cannot do that!” Achilles was exploding with outrage by the time Messalios arrived.
“Out of the question, she is your own daughter,” Snapped Clytemnestra.
“Why, father, why?” Sobbed Iphigenia.
“Marriage off?” Murmured Messalios to Patroclus and slipped in among them.
“And then some,” He replied in a daze.
“I am putting a stop to this at once,” Achilles thundered, “Patroclus, Messalios with me.”
“Achilles be reasonable,” Agamemnon put out a restraining hand.
“You’ll see how reasonable I am in this face of this outrage,” Achilles shrugged off the hand, striding away.
“How can you do this to me?” Wept Iphigenia.
“How can you do this to her?” Wailed Clytemnestra.
“You had better not back out now,” Growled Menelaus.
Achilles had broken into a run and it was all that his companions could to keep up, Messalios was puffing when they returned to the camp of the Myrmidons and Patroclus did not look any better.
“Fetch your armour men,” Achilles commanded, “We have a young princess to save!”
“Now, now, my Lord Achilles, I have explained matters to your men,” Calchas came oiling up.
“Sorry Sire but it is the will of the Goddess,” Said one of the Myrmidons.
“But I am your King,” Achilles looked grief stricken.
“And Artemis is a Goddess, how can you ask mortal men to go up against that? Would you curse them and their families?” Calchas oozed.
“Sorry boss, we’re with you but not this,” Men looked at the ground shame faced and hardened warriors wept.
“No matter, Messalios, Patroclus you are with me?” Asked Achilles.
“Always my lo….King,” Patroclus stammered.
“Of course, I am an Amazon, never will I not fight for an innocent girl against her corrupt patriarch,” Messalios declared hotly.
Achilles’s lips moved as he replayed that statement in his head a couple of times, “I think that is a yes?”
“Of course,” Messalios looked fierce.
“Then we shall fight, I am an army in myself, let all Greece tremble for its three greatest warriors rage on the side of justice and the Furies guide our arms,” Achilles roared.
“My Lord King,” Calchas protested, “You cannot do this, all of Greece hangs in the balance.” Somewhere at the edges of everyone’s sight shades were gathering and the hungry bloodlust of gods and daemons roiled the air.