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The town is bustling, citizens walking up and down its stone streets,

buying food from local bakeries,

reading announcements on the walls, saying when the next gladiatorial games were to be held at the amphitheatre just down the road,

passing great townhouses home to wealthy families. In one of these houses lives a merchant.

He was called Owlis Amb Umbricius Scouris.

Now Scouris had become something of a merchant celebrity, a magnate whose goods were famous throughout Pompeii,

and even far beyond the city's walls. The man was renowned for a very peculiar commodity, a smelly yet highly desired delicacy

of the time, a fish source known as Garum. From his workshops in and around Pompeii,

Scouris had built himself a Garum Empire, with clay vessels carrying this condiment stamped with his mark, being transported across

the Roman Empire to places as far away as Lundinium in distant Britannia.

You can imagine Scouris being pleased with himself and what he had achieved.

Life was good for him in busy Pompeii, something that certainly

couldn't be said for everyone. The occasional ground-shaking earthquakes, originating from

the towering mountain above Pompeii, was a discomfort that he was willing to endure. Scouris

intended his garum business to last for generations. He had no idea that its destruction was imminent.

Hours later, at an apocalypse had descended. Day had turned to night, a huge column of black rock and ash

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