The party made good time on their trip to Celtia, thanks to those famous Roman roads. Now they are walking through the streets, and enjoying the sights and sounds. Virodox has disappeared for the moment, no doubt making arrangements for all sorts of culinary delicacies to be shipped back to Rome.

"See how tall and strong our men are," says Aithne, little Atia's mother. Happiness paints her cheeks a lovely shade of rose that no cosmetic could duplicate. She is glad to be back in her homeland, and proud to show it to her daughter. "They are nothing like those runty little Romans!"

Atia giggles and Carnifex frowns. "I am not a runt," he says, looking down at the little girl. He flexes an arm that is as thick as a catapault beam, just to show how un-runty he is. A flock of snickers takes flight; the Gauls are amused. "Is that the best you have Roman?"

"I've better!" Never one to turn down a muscle flexing contest, Carnifex shows off some more. Cicatrix joins in and soon all the men are grinning and slapping each other on the back.

"Please don't tell me they are going to go run off and try to pick up various heavy objects in an effort to prove their manliness," Faustina mutters, shaking her head.

As they walk though the streets, they exchange greetings with everyone they meet. The Roman woman amuses herself by trying to learn the language, and her attempts at pronunciation provide much entertainment for the local populace.

"My obnoxious relation would be enjoying himself immensely if he were here," the Domina grumbles. "He fancies that he can speak every language under the sun. Probably start telling the locals they aren't pronouncing words in their own dialect correctly." She rolled her eyes.

"Where can we watch the race from?" Atia asks, looking around.

"I believe over there," Aithne replies, and points to a spot where others are gathering.

Said spot is the Boatmen's Pillar. As the party approaches, they are met by several eager Parisii. Aithne speaks with them. She asks where is the best spot to watch the race. A flurry of speech and gestures is the reply and the lady looks confused. She asks her question again and gets the same response.

"I am sorry, Domina," Aithne says, looking perplexed. "They do not speak quite the same dialect as me, but I believe they are asking us for money."

"Money? Well, we did bring some," Faustina replies with a shrug. "How much should we give them. I believe it is customary to barter in these parts?"

Those clever Parisii, they know Latin, of course, but they pretend they don't. Oi! Oi! How much can we take this redheaded Roman lady for?, they think, wearing large grins. She does not look like one who has ever set foot on a boat, let alone sail one. Now those Greeks that came by earlier, what a fine ship they had! But this outfit? They look more like they'd sink instead of swim! But the one called Aithne did say race, did she not? So they must want to compete, right?