A Visit to the King

Full of hope and courage, we made landfall at the sleepy trading outpost known as Rome, gateway to the Italian Wilderness.

The villagers were most welcoming, with immediate and abundant offerings of food, water and telescopic selfie sticks. Being culturally sensitive types, we declined all offers of trade until we had paid homage to the king and been granted trading rights.

The king usually lives in the biggest hut, so we rode the camels up a nearby hill and sighted a likely looking residence over yonder.

Gaining an audience with the king appeared easy at first, however the guards became hostile when Lexie confessed to mistaking a catholic church in Ballarat as the 53rd pub, and downing some holy water in a shot glass. She was banned from entering the Hall of the King, entrusting the rest of us with the trade negotiations.

The king was an expressionless man, some would say stone-faced. His large and elaborate hut made us feel small and insignificant. He wore a long, white robe and spoke in a strange dialect. Whilst we couldn't understand everything that was said, we gathered that correct protocol was to throw a virgin into the Holy Mountain of Fire, which seemed reasonable in the circumstances.

He gave us an instruction manual and pointed south.

Before leaving civilisation for the Italian Wilderness we made sure we were properly attired. The villagers seemed like a practical bunch, so we followed their example and purchased a range of outfits suitable for all weather extremes and a variety of terrains.

The outfits helped us blend in with the villagers without causing a fuss and making them wary of trading with us. As the first outsiders encountered by many Italians, we didn't want to appear threatening in any way.

When adventuring, we always examine the personality of the local inhabitants – in this case, to help understand why they have never bothered to cross their continent.

A tour of the village of Rome made this fairly obvious as they are in a perpetual state of construction. Many of the buildings appear to have been started centuries ago, and are overly ambitious given the primitive stone construction methods.

For example, building a major sports stadium out of large stones is a ridiculous notion and, consequently, Italians have nowhere to play cricket. And there are so many people wearing whites!

We also consider ourselves de facto teachers, and regard it as our solemn duty to share our knowledge with primitive peoples.

The Romans clearly have the potential to achieve great things. They just need to concentrate on careful planning and sound management principles. They need to staff their teams with some completer-finishers to better synchronize with their creative skills as they move forward into the future in the upcoming decades.

So we took the opportunity to confiscate archaic broadsheet printed media from a couple of villagers, and give them smartphones. See how much fitter, happier and productive they are? They'll be able to finish building Rome in a day, and we recommended starting with the cricket stadium!

They took to Hi-Vis safety shorts immediately.

Our final task before leaving Rome was to secure ample supplies of drinking water. It would be foolish to go adventuring into a potential desert without that precious liquid. Thankfully there were many freshwater springs to be found throughout Rome.

At the best springs there were long queues of villagers performing a 'thanks for the water' ritual. This involves sitting on the edge of the spring, fluffing one's hair, pouting seductively and being photographed for socmed. The photo is checked for likability and, if unsuitable, the villager gesticulates wildly.

After some practise, we were able to perform the ritual quite well and were permitted to fill our water bags.