Of Destiny and Duty: A Galatian AAR [Archive]

Ariovistus Maximus

06-28-2009, 21:23

Of Destiny and Duty; A Galatian AAR

Chapter l - Shock

Constantinople, 1453 AD

https://img17.imageshack.us/img17/9664/0031gqp.jpg

Flames flickered around me. I felt suspended in time, as a spectator to the events unfolding about me. Indeed, it was some time before I could bring to recollection where I was; why I was there.

“Get up, get up you fool!” cried Godwin, my friend of many years. “Come, John, before those ravaging murderers put out your eyes!”

It all came back to me in a moment’s time. I shook myself into consciousness. I felt so weak, so drained in mind and body. But now I started to remember.

https://img20.imageshack.us/img20/5909/0042t.jpg

It seems like so long ago; just a few years, but it feels like decades. The Pope had called yet another crusade; the fate of Byzantium hung in the balance. Truth be told, however, this came as no surprise. The emperor in Constantinople reigned over a mere shell; a shadow of what had been. The old city had not the striking dominance that had once asserted control over the eastern half of the Mediterranean. Generations of corruption and greed had done their work; it was only a matter of time before the Turks, those heathens, came as God’s own instrument of punishment upon the unfaithful. Now we will feel His long-withheld wrath.

https://img4.imageshack.us/img4/5066/0050hbe.jpg

Despite the hopelessness of the times, it was my duty to come to the defense of the old city, if for nothing else than the preservation of the memory of better days. So we came, Godwin and I, to fulfill our sacred duty to God and country.

https://img512.imageshack.us/img512/1356/0135y.jpg

Yes, we came, and then our enemies, those Turks; they, too, had a mission. Their father’s fathers had fought over the Holy Land. Now they came, seeking vengeance for the blood spilt by our swords. They will not rest until Constantinople, shell that it was, kneels before them in servitude.

So we fought. We fought endless hours, countless days. It seemed that the struggle would never end. The old city had the greatest walls in all Christendom, and for all their efforts and courage in battle, the enemy could not secure them.

https://img10.imageshack.us/img10/5048/0088onf.jpg

Instead, they waited. They surrounded our city and waited with eager dreams of the pillage and loot that would follow. But occasionally they would bombard the city with their great cannons and scale the walls yet again to test us, to see if our resolve had weakened.

https://img132.imageshack.us/img132/9527/0115.jpg

And it was on such a day that I stood at the gate, ready to beat the enemy back yet again. I ran back and forth, admonishing the men to keep up the fight. And then, then it happened. I was thrown, as by the hand of the Almighty Himself, through the air. I felt that I had been lifted up and tossed as a child tosses a toy. And then everything became black, black as the night…

Ariovistus Maximus

06-28-2009, 21:24

Chapter ll - Crusader's Duty

“Get up, get up you fool! Come, John, before those ravaging murderers put out your eyes!”

Yes, now I remembered it all. Godwin told me later that the Turks had shot one of their massive cannon at the gateway. Our men were so severely stricken with surprise that the enemy was able to gain the gateway. We had seen these great cannon smash at the walls, but never had the Turks fired it directly at us in such a way.

https://img39.imageshack.us/img39/900/0006qyp.jpg

Godwin helped me up, as I was in a dazed state from the blast, and helped me toward the secondary line of defense. There I lied down, and gathered my wits about me.

https://img7.imageshack.us/img7/9403/0015mpe.jpg

The Turks charged into our line, but being as we were in the streets, far behind the walls, the enemy’s missiles could not reach us in support of the attack, and the fight slowed as battered troops from both sides drifted away from the action. The Turks were forced to abandon their hard-fought gains at the gateway, and returned to their positions surrounding the city.

I was taken to a large building in the inner city. There, I was taken care of. I had no serious injury, only need of rest. So after my release, I trudged back to the barracks on the northern end of the city, near the middle portion of the wall.

Godwin welcomed me back so joyfully that one would think we had been parted for a lifetime. Godwin and I had been fast friends since we had fought together in France under King Henry VI of England.

https://img526.imageshack.us/img526/3654/0039e.jpg

He was a powerful lord in Scotland, and I a wealthy landowner in England. We had some trade dealings off and on, but we truly became acquainted during a campaign against Charles VII of France. As our hap was, we fought side by side, and came to know each other well.

https://img20.imageshack.us/img20/263/0038b.jpg

I recall though, that Godwin, proud Scot that he was, refused to have anything to do with me at first. Indeed, at times he was more a danger than a help to me on the battlefield. Sometimes he amused himself by jostling me about with that great sword of his. His favored weapon was a great two-handed sword, a sword he told me he had taken as loot in Europe. Godwin was certainly built to carry the massive blade.

Indeed, he was a large man, a man of stern, sharp features, in stark contrast to my frame, as I am strongly built, but a good deal shorter than he. Godwin took pleasure in knocking me about. Usually I bore his mockery well enough, but after a time, I felt I could stand it no longer.

So one day in camp, as he seemed set to push me by the hilt of his sword, I turned and stopped his hand. Of course, he could not pass over such an affront in the sight of the other men, so he struck a blow at me. Being smaller, I easily avoided his blows, but still he struck again and again. So I dove straight into Godwin’s legs, toppling him over. My stout build was perfect for wrestling, so I was not at all afraid to engage him. A grand scuffle ensued, and presently we grasped at each other’s throats and arms, trying to overpower the other while breaking his hold at the same time.

And at this effort we struggled, some said, for a good hour or two. Neither of us was willing to give up.

Then, to my great surprise and confusion, a great bellowing laugh escaped his lips. Indeed, I was quite confused at his demeanor. So we ceased the struggle for a moment; he laughed all the while.

Finally, Godwin looked me square in the eye, still beaming broadly, and exclaimed, “By Jove! Never have I met a man who could match me either with sword or in a hand-to-hand fight! Indeed, I have misjudged you, my friend. I should be glad to fight alongside a hardened fighter such as you any day! You have determination as well as courage, and for that I respect you, though you are an Englishman.”

From that time, we were fast friends, seeing each other through many a battle, facing our destinies together. We campaigned together in France, Ireland, and in the Holy Land. We swore to each other that we would both leave a battle alive, or die together.

So together, as always, we had set out for the defense of Constantinople, and this time it seemed that would indeed die together.

https://img222.imageshack.us/img222/1456/0021w.jpg

Ghaust the Moor

06-28-2009, 21:48

YAYYYYYY!!!!!!! I love it!!!! :2thumbsup:

I think it is really cool so far. I like the narrative format.
Please, accept my humble balloon :balloon:

Ariovistus Maximus

06-28-2009, 21:54

Wow! You're fast! I didn't even have time to PM you. :laugh4:

I most gratefully accept the great honor of your balloon. :bow:

Sorry about the img's in Chapter I. They are too big. I thought I told it to do 800x600... well anyways I will fix it ASAP!

Vasiliyi

06-28-2009, 22:43

Very nice Ariovistus, rest assured I will be reading this. I loved the scene where they wrestled for two hours before they gave up. Reminds me of a friend of mine. :2thumbsup:

Maion Maroneios

06-28-2009, 23:34

:applause: Here: :balloon2:

Maion

Ariovistus Maximus

06-29-2009, 02:16

Very nice Ariovistus, rest assured I will be reading this. I loved the scene where they wrestled for two hours before they gave up. Reminds me of a friend of mine. :2thumbsup:

Thanks! Yeah, I liked the wrestling scene. I was hoping it would come across as believable. Glad to see that it has. I'm sure you know the feeling; you see flaws in your writing, but often nobody notices; it's just because you've been working on it so long you know all the details. ~:)

:applause: Here: :balloon:

Maion

OOOH! Thanks! 'Grats on your 1,000,000 balloon count btw. :beam:

Wow. Want balloons? Start an AAR. And tell a bunch of people about it so they'll balloon you before you even get started. :clown:

Oh, hey, just for the record everybody:

Anybody from Turkey, please don't be offended. :beam: The author seems to have something against the Turks. :inquisitive:

Nothing against Turks at all, I just wanted to write from my character's perspective, which would be to consider them heathen etc.

Anyways, I just thought I'd mention it for the record.

Chapter 3 coming tomorrow. :beam: I've written about 5 1/2 chapters. Lotsa fun. :yes:

Reality=Chaos

06-29-2009, 14:29

This looks interesting... I'm looking forward to see how this meshes with the EB time:2thumbsup:

NickTheGreek

06-29-2009, 16:32

Glory to Constantinople! Glory to the Romans! (:laugh4:)

Ariovistus Maximus

06-29-2009, 19:25

Chapter lll - Patrol

It was months since that action at the gateway, when I came into possession of my great prize, my manuscript. It was so astonishing, how it came into my hands, but... I shall tell you of that later.

We had seen many more fights since then. I continued to survive, but what of that? I survived only to see men die around me; knowing that perhaps my time is not today, but maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day. What hope was there against so many, and with no place to hide?

https://img7.imageshack.us/img7/2281/chapter3.jpg

Nevertheless, there was nothing to be gained by surrender. We would be killed anyway, or our eyes put out. All, that is, except the few of us who are important enough to fetch a good price in ransom. So we continued to fight, and to die, as was our duty. At least we are accorded an honorable death in battle, rather than death as slaves and cowards. However, I see now that I was destined to greater things than a violent end in the doomed defense of Constantinople. I shall tell you how it happened, how I met with this destiny.

https://img231.imageshack.us/img231/1706/0082x.jpg

The Turks seemed to attack about once in each week. Soon we discovered that these attacks were more than probes to find out our strength. Indeed, the rogues would send spies into the city with each attack. They would enter with the other soldiers, hide out inside the city during the fight, and then masquerade as a citizen. These spies would sometimes scout our positions and then leave the city during the next attack. Other times, their tasks were even more nefarious. Some of them found out grain storages throughout the city, and burned them. Others attempted to poison our water wells. Most of these attempts had been thwarted, but those that succeeded caused significant damage.

Not only did the spies’ work cause a strain on us, but we were also forced to spread ourselves out, patrolling the streets and guarding important food stores. It was another drain on our already exhausted troops; a drain that we could not sustain for long.

Nonetheless, we had to be ever wary of these spies. On a given day, I was instructed to take a detachment of men-at-arms and patrol the perimeter of the city. It would be a long day.

Godwin offered to come with me. “A tiny man like you shouldn’t lead a patrol by himself,” he said with a mischievous grin. So, taking ten fresh men, we set out on our patrol, starting with the north end of the city. Alert as we were, we were not ready for the events of the coming hours.

https://img17.imageshack.us/img17/5996/0073k.jpg

Reality=Chaos

06-29-2009, 19:35

OOOOOh the plot thickens... I love your writing style and I can't wait to see how we will get to galatians in EB though I think you gave some clues:2thumbsup:

subscribed:yes:

Ariovistus Maximus

06-29-2009, 19:37

OK, I have a couple questions:

1. You'll notice that my cropped pics show up black where I cropped them. How do I fix this? I'm using ImageShack, and I don't see any option to crop it from there. :wall: I guess I could run it all through Adobe... Anyways, if somebody can help I'd appreciate it. I've got a nice header pic for Chapter I that I can't put up because the cropping makes it look sloppy. :shame:

2. About the AAR: how do you like the chapter lengths so far? I think they're shorter than average, and maybe a bit pic-heavy.

If you like lots of text, don't worry though, this is because of the way I divide the AAR into chapters, not because of a lack of material. It is already nice and long. :book::book::book:

Anyways please leave your oppinion on chapter lengths! :2thumbsup:

This looks interesting... I'm looking forward to see how this meshes with the EB time:2thumbsup:

Thanks! It's coming up in a couple chapters. :2thumbsup: Don't worry; no time-travel, holes in the space-time continuum, or stuff like that. :beam:

Actually, I'm kinda impatient to move ahead, so I'll post another chapter tonight. It'll be a nice long one. :yes:

Glory to Constantinople! Glory to the Romans!

Unfortunately for Constantinople, this is a semi-historical AAR. The year 1453 was not picked at random. :smash:

Plus, your going to get some serious heat from the Romoiektonoi (sp?). :clown:

Ye shall see...

OOOOOh the plot thickens... I love your writing style and I can't wait to see how we will get to galatians in EB though I think you gave some clues

subscribed

Bwhahahahaaaa!!! Actually, that's why I didn't post 2 chapters at once. I thought I'd let you steam over that cliffhanger for a while. :sneaky:

Thanks! I think you will like how it changes to EB. :2thumbsup:

Reality=Chaos

06-29-2009, 19:51

Ariovistus Maximus

06-29-2009, 20:12

Anyways please leave your oppinion on chapter lengths! :2thumbsup:
with your writing style I prefer longer ones. It reads smoothly and sucks you into another world, only to be cruelly ousted from there only too soon:no:

Actually, I'm kinda impatient to move ahead, so I'll post another chapter tonight. It'll be a nice long one. :yes:

YAY:beam:

Long chapters it is then. :beam: I appreciate your enthusiasm! :yes::yes::yes:

I'll try and rig the chapters to make them longer. I kinda divide them so that the chapter ends as I move on to another setting or idea. Like chapter 3, it helps create suspense. :sneaky:

But I think I can still do it and make the chapters longer. :2thumbsup: But the changes might not be noticible for a while - I've already written quite a ways ahead. :beam:

Reality=Chaos

06-29-2009, 20:17

But I think I can still do it and make the chapters longer. But the changes might not be noticible for a while - I've already written quite a ways ahead. *quote*

I don't mind the whole 1453 thing is also very intruiging...:laugh4: Damn I must seem like some excitable puppy:shame:

Ariovistus Maximus

06-29-2009, 20:32

Chapter IV - Ambush!

We had been marching for hours. We covered the north, east, and south sides of the city; but an hour or two more, and we would be able to rest our aching joints. We had been on the march for hours, patrolling the streets adjacent the walls. Other detachments were tasked with canvassing the interior of the city.

https://img36.imageshack.us/img36/3708/0081p.jpg

By now the men were complaining of aches and pains, wishing the task over. After all, we not only had to march through the city, but we had to investigate even the slightest movement that we saw. This took a prodigiously great deal of time and effort. All civilians (mostly women and children, as the men had been pressed into service) were ordered to stay in their homes, not to stir out for anything. So we knew that anyone prowling the streets was up to no good.

As we trudged through yet another street, I had the strangest feeling. I felt affixed by someone’s gaze, as though a pair of eyes was set on me, perhaps from a house along the street. I ordered a halt. After looking around, I saw nothing else, but decided to move down that street to investigate further.

We moved into the next street, heading toward the center of the city. Just as we were about to turn around, I heard a shrill, bone-chilling yell. Suddenly, about 15 men sprang from the rubble of what had been just another empty street.

https://img6.imageshack.us/img6/8739/0112tlo.jpg

Each man knew his task. It would be every man for himself, each picking out an opponent and rushing towards him. The enemy had an advantage for the few moments that we stood stock-still, shocked at meeting so many of the enemy, and at the end of a long day.

One man had a crossbow ready to fire. He sent the bolt straight into the back of one of my men. He sank to his knees. No sooner had he fallen than a swift young Turkish boy plunged a knife into him.

https://img17.imageshack.us/img17/5599/0091jio.jpg

Another carried a javelin, which he launched toward me. I bent down behind my shield. I reeled as the javelin rammed into the shield and punctured it, stopping only a hand’s breadth from my face. I had no time to work the shaft out of my shield; I cast it aside.

One man came screaming towards me, his scimitar raised above his head and ready to strike. I ran him through with my trusty sword. For a moment my eyes fixed upon his. He had a shocked look on his face; shocked, yet confident of his reward for death in battle against the infidel. I almost envied him.

https://img19.imageshack.us/img19/6050/0114r.jpg

But another man was right behind him. Everything seemed to slow down; each second seemed like hours. In a split second I realized I could not draw my sword out from the first man in time.

My mind whirled through a million thoughts all at once. Is this the end? Well, why not? It might as well be today, rather than tomorrow. I saw my own dear wife, my children, scenes from my childhood pass before my eyes. What a strange thing to think in the midst of battle, and so far away.

Then I saw my deliverance: a knife girded in the belt of the man I had run through. In a flash I grabbed it from his belt. At the same time I pushed him back onto the second man charging me. This gave me a few seconds to collect my self.

I dove onto the man and slid the knife into his throat. He became limp; his eyes took on a glassy effect and stared into the sky. I slowly came to my feet. Suddenly, I felt very warm; I glanced down.

https://img8.imageshack.us/img8/6193/0095psj.jpg

I noticed a dark red stain on my waistcoat; one of the men must have managed to thrust home. I shoved it out of my mind; it didn’t look serious and there would be time to deal with it later.

I looked round until I found Godwin. He was in fine shape, hefting his massive sword through the air. Three Turks surrounded him, almost as wolves surround a buck, watching for an opportunity to strike.

But they were kept at bay. One man lying still on the ground bore evidence that they had best not come too close to Godwin’s whirling blade.

https://i953.photobucket.com/albums/ae15/Ariovistus_Maximus/zcopy.jpg

I retrieved my own sword and set out to Godwin’s assistance. I had taken only a few steps when I was bowled over; another Turk jumped me. My sword was thrown out of my hand, and I lay flat on my back. I saw the enemy’s knife plunge toward my chest. I reached out to stop him as the blade snaked toward me. I succeeded only in forcing his hand over a few inches; the knife ran into my left shoulder, missing my heart just by a few inches.

The Turk yanked out his dagger and prepared for another strike. I managed to free my right arm and smashed my fist into his jaw. He was partially knocked off me. I dove onto him and hit him again.

He regained his strength and swung hard with his knife. I jumped back, and the knife slashed my arm. He knocked me back onto the ground and prepared to strike the final blow. I hadn’t the strength to overcome his superior position.

But then he just sat still, and slumped over. I couldn’t understand; then I saw that one of my men had come to my rescue. He had dealt a severe blow to my opponent’s neck, killing him.

I shoved the dead man off and looked around again. I saw two more dead men at Godwin’s feet; he had finished them. One’s head was displaced a few feet from his body. I was never more glad to have Godwin with me than that day.

I looked around me. Seven of my men were dead along with the entire Turkish group. Then I looked at Godwin; he was kneeling over, not moving. I ran to see what was wrong. I could see that he was badly hurt. Then, behind me, I saw Godwin’s third assailant making a run for it. Filled with rage at the sight of my wounded companion, I chased after him. He ran into the ruins of an old monastery. I followed him in, and sent my men around the side to make sure he would not escape through the fallen portions of the building’s walls.

https://img3.imageshack.us/img3/8342/0131p.jpg

I moved farther into the building. I could hear my target looking frantically for a place to hide or a way of escape. I kept walking.

Suddenly I heard a crash. The old floors of the building must have given way. They were especially weak from being hit by missiles from Turkish cannon and trebuchets. I ran toward the sound. Then the floor gave way to my weight as well. I tumbled into the lower level of the building. I found myself in a small room surrounded by a number of scrolls. I sat there for a moment, dazed.

The face of one of my men appeared above me. They had rushed into the building upon hearing the noise. They told me that the Turkish soldier had been crushed by rubble, which buried him when he fell.

My men sent for a rope to bring me out of my little prison. While I was down there, I lay down to catch my breath and looked around at the contents of the room. One scroll in particular caught my eye. It seemed older than the rest, and had been carefully stored in a large clay jar. It had apparently been knocked out when I fell.

It read, “Μοιρας και Καθηκοντος: Ανθρωποι και Χρονικα της Αρχης Ποντου.” I had received a little training in Greek; it seemed to read something akin to, “Of Destiny and Duty; the People and Times of the Pontic Empire.”

But I had to go; I needed to see how my good friend Godwin was faring. I needed to see to my men. Nevertheless, that old manuscript stayed in my mind; I wanted very much to look it over. Perhaps I would have time to study it. Perhaps, if I ever escaped from the living torment that was Constantinople. I thought, at least, that it might be a comfort to me in my final hours.

Reality=Chaos

06-29-2009, 20:38

:beam::yes::smash::laugh4:

Vasiliyi

06-29-2009, 20:42

Glory to Constantinople! Glory to the Romans! (:laugh4:)

Careful Nick. Loyalties to the sons of the she-wolf is not an honorable thing.

On a lighter note, this is wonderful Ariovistus, I like how you connected it to EB in the end. I look forward to more. Dont tire yourself out though, wouldnt want this to die from you getting to exhausted to write.

Ghaust the Moor

06-29-2009, 21:59

Man, you are fast. I wish I could write so may chapters in such a short period of time. I lose focus and have to take breaks all the time.

Loving it by the way. I liked how you said seven of your men were dead, but about twelve were dead in the picture, :laugh4:

NickTheGreek

06-30-2009, 00:11

Careful Nick. Loyalties to the sons of the she-wolf is not an honorable thing.

And what would a carthaginian know of loyalty? :laugh4:

Ariovistus Maximus

06-30-2009, 00:32

:beam::yes::smash::laugh4:

:yes: :laugh4: :laugh4: ~:shock: :jawdrop: :inquisitive: :idea2: :2thumbsup: :smash: :smash: :smash: :clown:

Careful Nick. Loyalties to the sons of the she-wolf is not an honorable thing.

On a lighter note, this is wonderful Ariovistus, I like how you connected it to EB in the end. I look forward to more. Dont tire yourself out though, wouldnt want this to die from you getting to exhausted to write.

Let him liiiiivvve! :clown:

Glad you like it, Vasiliyi! Your AAR has taught me some lessons on plot progression as well.

Don't worry; I'm having tons of fun. :2thumbsup: So far anyways. I'm not going to be posting double chapters often though. :beam: Just wanted to get into the EB part so you know where on earth I'm going with this story, and why it's in the RTW section. :juggle2:

Man, you are fast. I wish I could write so may chapters in such a short period of time. I lose focus and have to take breaks all the time.

Loving it by the way. I liked how you said seven of your men were dead, but about twelve were dead in the picture,

Thanks! The reason I banged it out so fast is because the story has been festering in my mind for months. First, it started out as a Pontic AAR because there weren't many of those (and I'm not aware of any that are finished).

Then I wanted to make it different from all the rest, so I came up with the Galatian storyline which you will see later. :2thumbsup: THEN I wanted to make it even MORE different, and I thought it would be cool if the story was discovered by someone thousands of years later. And the crusader was the most logical move.

So I've just been itching to get this story off my fingertips. And I actually started writing a couple weeks ago. However, since I've had lots of time, I've made some significant changes that add a lot of depth to the story, or at least I hope so. :beam:

Plus, as you can see by my rediculously long responses, :clown: I tend to ramble, which (if it is controlled) can help me in my writing by giving increased detail.

12 dead guys? You're good! :beam: I didn't even notice that. It was on tiny unit scale though; there just wasn't much I could do. :no: oh well. You get the idea though. There were dead guys. :yes:

AH, WAIT!!! The extra guys were wounded!!! HaHA!

They just hadn't gotten up yet. :beam:

Vasiliyi

06-30-2009, 00:50

Hope that link I sent you helped out with your screenshots.

Ariovistus Maximus

06-30-2009, 14:33

Chapter V - Memories

http://www.deq.state.va.us/export/sites/default/gwcharacterization/images/mill_run_spring_small.jpg

Spring; a beautiful time of year. I was so glad to be back with my dear family. Truly it was like Heaven Itself to see them. It seemed like lifetimes since I had left my own dear home in England to join the Holy Crusade. I pray that I will not be tested to weather another such trial.

I want only to see my wife, my children. How they have grown since I saw them last! I feel that they do not know me. They act almost as though I am a stranger. Ah, but no matter; they are young, and I will have plenty of time with them now.

http://www.herstmonceux-castle.com/images/castle.jpg

I had thought that my business was so important. Money, money, always had to look out for the money! What madness! What a fool I was. Now I know that my own dear little ones and my wonderful wife are what is most important. And this only after nearly having been lost to them in that terrible place. In that awful city…”

I jolted upright in my cot. Blast. Another dream. Why am I tormented so, I wondered many times. To be so close to my family only to be ripped away from them… oh it was becoming too much. Always it took me some time to remember where I was; that I was still in Constantinople. Still waiting to die.

And then I remembered the fight; yes, the skirmish the day before with the Turks near the western wall. My aches and pains reminded me well. But we had carried the day, same as the day before.

Godwin was in bad shape; he had multiple wounds, some of which were quite deep. We carried him as carefully as we could to the center of the city, where a local surgeon examined his wounds. The surgeon announced that none of his wounds were mortal, but that if infection set in he would certainly die. Thus, Godwin must be able to rest and be left alone to heal. The surgeon gave Godwin an herbal solution to aid in the healing process.

Whilst I waited for news of my friend, the surgeon looked me over as well. My own wounds were not too serious, he told me that I must avoid excessive movement to keep the wound from opening. So I was laid up in a cot along with Godwin for at least a few weeks. I hoped I might at least be able to fight as a man when the final hour of the old city drew nigh; I hoped I would not die as an invalid, slaughtered in his cot.

However, there was nothing I could do to speed my recovery, so I laid down to rest.

But I could not rest. I thought of my men, fighting without me. How I longed to be with them! To help them, to strengthen them; to bolster their courage. But I could not.

If I could not engage myself with activity of muscle and limb, I thought, at least I could spend time in activity of mind. I thought again of that fascinating old manuscript, that history of Pontus. I sent some men out to the old monastery that had been the seen of the previous day’s fight, and had them bring the manuscript to me.

And so, with the document propped up in front of me, I began the slow, arduous task of translation.

The People and the Times of the Pontic Empire…

http://www.burningcross.net/inquisition/scrolls/scroll.jpg

Photo Credits:
1. http://www.deq.state.va.us

2. www.herstmonceux-castle.com

3. www.burningcross.net

Ghaust the Moor

06-30-2009, 15:44

Oooooo, the plot thickens...a bored homesick crusader, a mysterious manuscript, and a brief knowledge in greek...intresting... :book:

Cool, nice update. Man I wish I could have your stamina...

Ariovistus Maximus

06-30-2009, 18:46

Oooooo, the plot thickens...a bored homesick crusader, a mysterious manuscript, and a brief knowledge in greek...intresting... :book:

Cool, nice update. Man I wish I could have your stamina...

Hehe, yes now you can see how they tie in! Now I have to make sure that I don't get ahead of myself. Naturally I want to tie the story together, use forshadowing, etc. But it's working out so far. :2thumbsup:

Remember, though, that this idea entered my head like 6 months ago, and I've been writing for several weeks. So I've had lotsa time. I don't have to work real hard to post the daily chapter. :beam:

Ariovistus Maximus

06-30-2009, 23:15

Chapter VI
Μοιρας και Καθηκοντος; Ανθρωποι και Χρονικα της Αρχης Ποντου:

Galatia, 300 B.C.

Timothsenes was his name. He had gained great wealth and fame as a captain in Antigonus’ army. He had seen as much as any man in his day: wild Illyrians in Northern Greece, Scythian riders on the steppes, and fierce mountain tribesmen of the East. He had seen palaces in Persia, great fortresses in Macedon, and even the Great Pyramids in Egypt. He had fought for his people and his homeland, serving according to his duty and higher. He had seen rulers come and go, as they all do. But he stayed on, giving loyal service both to his commander and his subordinates. Although he could have risen to great power and influence, he chose to remain among the men with whom he had served for so many years.

http://image.com.com/gamespot/images/2004/reviews/589390_20040823_screen004.jpg

But time passed, and his age overcame him; he could no longer fight with his men. He settled down in Galatia with his wife, Aderyn. This was her home, and Timothsenes wanted most of all that she should be happy after years of living in an army camp, following him on campaign.

Galatia was now independent of its Hellenistic rulers; the land was too rough, the people to wild and independent to be subjected to any foreign people. After about 60 years of foreign rule, the province was changing to how things had been. It was once again a Gallic region, ruled by natives as their father’s fathers had ruled it.

http://photos.jibble.org/albums/Hastingleigh/English_countryside_at_Brook.jpg

Timosthenes was permitted to settle in the land of the Tolistobgogii, a tribe of western Galatia, and was a respected man in the tribe. He was treated as an equal, because his wife was a native Galatian. They lived there happily, and had two sons, Kyros and Artan. They were aged only one year apart.

Timothsenes insisted that if they were to live in the land of her people, his older son, Kyros, must be brought up as a Greek. He was proud of his heritage and his people, and did not want this to be lost from his family.

Therefore, when Kyros was 12, Timothsenes took his son to Athens, where he himself had grown up. He was determined that his son be a Greek, and be brought up accordingly. And Timothsenes had enough money and influence to ensure that his son received the very best.

https://img292.imageshack.us/img292/6348/2ie7.jpg

Kyros was to be enrolled in a prominent academy in Athens for six years. He would be brought up under the best scholars the city had to offer, some of the brightest men of their day. Timothsenes was proud of his people and heritage, and he wanted to share that pride with his son.

So Kyros would receive all that men could give him, to prepare him for whatever destiny awaited. He was well suited to the work that lay ahead, for he was a quiet, studious boy.

His brother, Artan, was brought up as his Celtic ancestors. In contrast to his older brother, Artan was an energetic boy; sometimes too energetic. He was strong and fit, and an avid outdoorsman.

Would fate lead them on a road of greatness together, or would they not be content with their different lots in life and be torn apart? Only time could tell.

Picture Credits:
1. www.gamespot.com

2. www.webshots.com

3. www.photos.jibble.org

Ariovistus Maximus

06-30-2009, 23:19

OK, I will try to help you keep track of where we are from now on.

The story will shift between John the Englishman and Kyros the Galatian every now and then. :2thumbsup:

And yes, that RTW img is from gamespot, for the record. I just don't have time to start up all that stuff to get one screenshot.

I might replace it later though with one of my own. Just wanted to specify, and yes all the other TW screenshots are mine. :beam:

Ghaust the Moor

06-30-2009, 23:32

YAY!!! GO GALATIA!!!!! :pirate2:

sorry. Nice update. I love it already.
I love the awsome Gamespot pic, but it is a little reduced in quality due to the random iberian mercanaries.

Ariovistus Maximus

07-01-2009, 02:30

YAY!!! GO GALATIA!!!!! :pirate2:

sorry. Nice update. I love it already.
I love the awsome Gamespot pic, but it is a little reduced in quality due to the random iberian mercanaries.

Yah. :2thumbsup:

:charge: :duel: :pirate2: :duel: :charge:

I want SOOO much just to let out the whole story now. :laugh4: All of it I've written, that is. But then of course there would be longer gaps between updates. :thumbsdown: Man, I'm suffering from as much suspense as you are! :book:

Anyways, we are approaching a section that will have relatively few screenshots, so I hope you all like storyline and plot progression.

There are still a couple of screen-heavy chapters though. :yes:

And then I will actually launch into a real campaign... :beam: I think you will like it.

Before I do that, though, I have to install EB for BI and get the FD-mod. :sweatdrop:

I really don't feel like uninstalling and re-installing EB though. I had to fight with it for quite a while to make it work in the first place. :shame:

I dunno. Maybe I'll forgo the pleasure of the enhanced AI I would get with BI. Hmmm...

Has anybody used the BI installer??? Does it work????????

Hotseat_User

07-01-2009, 08:16

Ariovistus Maximus

07-01-2009, 14:21

Chapter VII - Rivalry

Kyros was glad to be back with his family. He was now 18, and ready to take on the duties befitting a man. He was a well-learned young man; anyone could see that he was destined to be a great scholar.

After years of study, Kyros was on the way to becoming a top-notch administrator, as well as one of the prominent thinkers of his time. He also benefited from the unwavering support of his father.

Artan was a strong, brawny boy of 17. He hadn’t seen his brother in years. He was both glad to see his brother, and yet, something held him back. He always felt that Kyros was the favored of the two; that their father had always loved his Greek son rather than his Celtic son. It wasn’t the things that Timothsenes did, rather the things he didn’t do. His father always seemed so involved with Kyros; admonishing him to continue his studies, delighting in his triumphs, and even making the long trip to Greece several times in the year to visit Kyros.

Artan managed to deal with the disappointments. He loved his father, and realized that every man has his faults. Still, he was held back by a measure of jealousy deep within him.

To counteract the difficulties with his father, Artan sought consolation elsewhere. Being an active and energetic boy, he sometimes funneled his energies in the wrong directions. He became a bully in town, lording his strength over his fellows. This got him into trouble on many occasions. But Artan was a natural leader, and though he applied it perhaps in the wrong way, he began to take his place as a prominent man in his village.

With such different personalities and skills, the brothers had great potential. If they worked together, combining their abilities, they could rise to greatness. If they allowed their differences to come between them, it could cause the ruin of them both.
Artan was beginning to feel considerable irritation at his brother’s presence. It seemed that the whole village was enthralled with Kyros; he was on top of the world.

“I don’t see, brother, how all these books of yours can do you much good. They are not a man’s pursuits. I think you would sit around in the house as a woman does!”

“Ah, but you speak without knowledge, Artan. You scoff at what you cannot possess. There is a whole world out there of which you have no understanding!”

Artan responded, “I need no knowledge of the outside. I have what I need; I can hunt and fight as well as any man. Is that not the highest duty? To defend home and family? What would you do; throw your books at the enemy?” Artan scoffed.

“You may be successful in your lot,” Kyros shot back, “but you will never achieve anything greater. You can hunt; good for you. You can throw pointed sticks and swing a club. I will rise to power to command thousands like you. Who will bring honor and protection to the family then? Look at the great and famous men of our people. Did not they all possess great learning?”

“Bah! Look at you; your smooth clothes and pretty words. I can hardly stand the sight of you.” Artan was beginning to lose his temper.

“And I can hardly stand your smell,” said Kyros wryly.

“You swine! You’re so smug. You have had everything handed to you without effort. Father has tended you like a lamb; you’ve had need for nothing! And I have had to fight for what I have. So go back to your books! I can’t stand the sight of you a moment longer. I will tell you one thing: you will never rule over me!”

Artan stormed out of the hut like a wild man. His mind was reeling with anger and resentment.

Kyros sat down with a sigh. He had not realized that such frustration had built up in his brother’s heart. He would give him a chance to cool off, and talk to him later. He simply couldn’t be reasoned with now; he was so childish sometimes. Perhaps his father would know what to do.

Reality=Chaos

07-01-2009, 15:43

whoa a new angle with nothing to grab onto but what is written.... I like it:2thumbsup:

Ariovistus Maximus

07-01-2009, 16:45

Hey, silently and hidden reading this fine stuffe while the past days. It's very good, keep the work. To your question: I didn't have had (ohh my grammar) any problems with the EB:BI installer, should work fine. And it really increase the AI-movements. In my PONTOS campaign, Maks are currently besieging Syracusae while the west-med islands are under quartat.... (sp.) and some quart.FM's making holidays in Liguria. Very fine for me

Cool! Now I just have to overcome my fright at uninstalling a mod that is so hard to reinstall.

It's not so bad really, except my PC is Vista, and I had to mess with the security settings to make it work... :dizzy2:

Glad you like! :2thumbsup: Most encouraging!

whoa a new angle with nothing to grab onto but what is written.... I like it:2thumbsup:

Yes, I hope it doesn't throw you off. :embarassed: At this point, John is reading his manuscript, which is my Pontic AAR. :2thumbsup: Or, I should say, it will become my Pontic AAR. :beam:

So in effect it is two stories in one. Hopefully you will be able to get used to Kyros and Artan; they will be very important. :smash:

2 more questions: :beam:

1. What do you guys think? Does it flow well, or is it too abrupt?

2. Is it believable??? I VERY much want to know whether or not it comes across as authentic and believable!

Ghaust the Moor

07-01-2009, 18:15

1. I like it, it flows well and isn't too complex
2.Believable, yes. The only thing that I was concerned about was, Why the galatians were so eager to accept an outsider. Other than that, it is good.

Ariovistus Maximus

07-01-2009, 21:10

1. Splendid; I hope yo uare not alone. :beam:

2. Ah, good point. Well, you see, it made sense in my head... :clown:

Actually, my rationale was that, thought he would be an outsider, the Galatians respected him for his strength and skill in battle.

And every Gaul respects courage, right? :2thumbsup:

That's what I was thinking, anyways.

But that's good. I was mostly concerned that the transition from one story to another would be smooth and believable. :yes:

Ghaust the Moor

07-02-2009, 00:52

Oh, I didn't think about it like that before. I take it back, it makes sense now.

The transition was fine for me, I mean, it was just the soldier reading right?

Ariovistus Maximus

07-02-2009, 03:03

Oh, I didn't think about it like that before. I take it back, it makes sense now.

The transition was fine for me, I mean, it was just the soldier reading right?

I should have specified that... somewhere...

I'll get around to it. :beam:

Anyways thanks 4 the criticism! Always like to make it better. :2thumbsup:

Howz urs going??? We need to see more of Mandubracious! :yes:

Ghaust the Moor

07-02-2009, 04:41

Eh, I'm haveing trouble with decideing how to make it move faster. It's going quite a bit slow isn't it.

Ariovistus Maximus

07-02-2009, 04:59

Eh, I'm haveing trouble with decideing how to make it move faster. It's going quite a bit slow isn't it.

Yeah, but that's OK. Quality is also desirable. :yes: And that you have, my friend. :2thumbsup:

Actually, the reason that I'm going so fast now is because I'm not playing a campaign yet. :rolleyes:

So I get a big time bonus there.

Anyways, my weapons study has been going for... months now I think. Been quite a while since my last update. :whip: So don't even THINK about feeling bad! :beam:

Reality=Chaos

07-02-2009, 07:56

1. What do you guys think? Does it flow well, or is it too abrupt?

I think it flows well... Not too abrupt at all.... I like a bit of abruptness tbh... When you have virtually no background info about something it makes you pay attention to what you read more

2. Is it believable??? I VERY much want to know whether or not it comes across as authentic and believable!

It's believable enough for me so far... You got the whole crusader mindset beautifully.... as for the EB part, well still a bit early to sya anything about it... so far I like it though....

Ariovistus Maximus

07-02-2009, 21:14

Hey guys! I finally fixed the defective cropping on my pics! I might edit them a little more later.

Also, I added a headline-sorta pic at the beginning of Chapter I. :2thumbsup:

Thanks Vasiliyi for the assistance! :bow:

OK, Chapter VIII coming later in the evening! We are moving into more action! :smash:

I just have to collect the pics and post. :yes:

Ariovistus Maximus

07-03-2009, 14:44

Hey everybody!

I'm sorry, I 4got to post yesterday. :embarassed:

I mowed somebody's lawn, came home, and vegged for a while... it slipped my mind.

Plus, other things were on my mind b/c I just started doing RTW online. :rolleyes:

So anyways sorry about that, but I WILL post 2 chapters today. :2thumbsup:

J.R.M

07-03-2009, 18:19

Don´t worry

Awesome idea for an AAR!, seriously. Now i hope Artan doesn´t kill or treason Kyros, they could make an awesome work trying conquering the World!! Muhahahaha!

Congrats for ya!:2thumbsup:

Ariovistus Maximus

07-04-2009, 05:21

Ariovistus Maximus

07-04-2009, 05:23

'K guys I will post the 2 chapters but I'm afraid the pics will have to wait until morning. Takes a little longer y'know.

Sorry. I've been entangled in TW multiplayer. :beam: so nice to have intelligent opponents for a change. :)

Ariovistus Maximus

07-04-2009, 05:24

Chapter VIII - Assault

Artan ran to his favorite spot in the woods, where he could be alone. He didn’t care if he saw Kyros again in a hundred years. The nerve of that scholar, to come barging in to his world and stealing favor in the village; how could he –

Artan stopped. His keen ears picked up sounds of movement. He climbed up a tree to get a better look. He could see a group of men stealing through the forest. A raiding party! He must warn the village!

He quickly got to the ground and flew toward the village. He heard a shout behind him; he’d been spotted. In a moment arrows began to fly past him; he ran faster. Soon he outdistanced his pursuers.

He finally reached the village. After catching his breath, he ran into the council chamber in the center of town.

https://img15.imageshack.us/img15/1613/206bmr.jpg

“They’re coming! The Trocmii are coming!”

The Trocmii, along with Artan’s tribe, the Tolistobogii, and the Tectosages, were the descendants of three Gallic tribes that migrated to Galatia many years before. The Tolistobogii and Trocmii had fallen out after territorial disputes, and were sworn enemies.

The village chieftain came out of the council chamber and had his trumpeters sound the alarm. There was not much time; the Trocmii had to be close. The chieftain gathered all the men nearby and marched out to meet them. There would be much blood spilt in the hours to come.

https://i953.photobucket.com/albums/ae15/Ariovistus_Maximus/VIII/200.jpg

The hastily assembled militia of the Tolistobogii took up positions in the trees. Artan was ahead of the rest, watching for the enemy and preparing to signal the others. Soon he spied a slight glare of light on armor; he could make out men’s shapes moving toward him. When they were within only a few feet, Artan let out a fierce war cry. His companions sprang out of the trees and steeled themselves for the grim work that was to follow.

https://i953.photobucket.com/albums/ae15/Ariovistus_Maximus/VIII/226.jpg

Kyros was also with the army. He rushed a surprised Trocmii soldier and slit his throat. Kyros’ training had not been solely academic; he had received a little training in the Athenian levies. He ran up to another man; this one seemed prepared. Kyros swung his dagger at him; the man dodged his strike and dealt him a blow to the face with a club. Kyros fell back, but managed to roll away from his assailant’s next blow. Scraping some dust from the ground, he flung it in the raider’s face, blinding him. He then finished him off quickly.

He moved on; he had no time to think, only to act. He ran into another enemy soldier and was knocked off his feet, and his dagger flew out of his hand. Before the Trocmii warrior could react, though, a spear pierced through his chest; it was Artan.

https://i953.photobucket.com/albums/ae15/Ariovistus_Maximus/VIII/223.jpg

Artan looked at his brother for a moment, smirking at his clumsiness. But there was no time to gloat; he moved on, seeking another foe. Already he had killed three.

Finally, the enemy had enough. The would-be raiders ran off to their homes.

“Look at the cowardly dogs,” Artan roared. “See how nimbly they run!”

Kyros sat down for a moment; he felt dazed. He had drilled in Athens for a while, but this was not what he expected. He hadn’t had time to think about what he was doing.

https://i953.photobucket.com/albums/ae15/Ariovistus_Maximus/VIII/219.jpg

He saw the surprised face of the first man he had killed, and the pained look on the face of the other. Suddenly he felt sick. He dashed behind a large tree and soon his stomach seemed to heave out his throat. He let it all out.

Artan came up behind him. “Too sweaty for you, was it?” He laughed. “Go home to your books; they’ll comfort you, perhaps.” Still, although he would never admit it, Artan was impressed by his brother’s willingness to do what needed to be done. Clumsy and bookish though he may be, Artan thought, he is certainly no coward.

So the day’s work was done, and the men trod off to their homes. Some took souvenirs from their recently deceased foes. All in all, it had been a decisive victory

Ariovistus Maximus

07-04-2009, 05:25

Chapter IX - Retribution

Early the next morning, the village chieftain called all the men together.

“The Trocmii must pay for the attempt they made on our lives. Also, our losses must be avenged. I call on each man of fighting age to prepare himself for battle. This day may be fierce, but I guarantee you that it will be short after the crushing blow we dealt them yesterday!”

Artan was already fit and ready to fight. He was to lead a group of young men in the assault, and was eager to prove himself. He was also in high spirits after discovering that Kyros was to be a part of his group; he would test his brother’s abilities to the limits today.

Kyros, on the other hand, had spent a fitful night. He couldn’t stop thinking about those two men; two men that would not see their families again due to his own blade. And what would come of tomorrow?

So the two brothers joined the column of men bound for the Trocmii village. They still hadn’t really spoken since their argument, and they were both still upset by it. But there was no time for that now.

https://i953.photobucket.com/albums/ae15/Ariovistus_Maximus/IX/4.jpg

The men marched silently, each man searching the trees for an ambushing party. There was none.

Then one of the men signaled the others to stop. He looked carefully ahead of him. He could see smoke! The men crept up closer.

It was a Trocmii scouting party, resting in a clearing. How foolish of them to start a fire! They would pay for their mistake. Artan took his men to the edge of the clearing. Each man picked a target. At Artan’s shout, they hurled their javelins into the enemy. They hardly made a sound; they just toppled over, dead.

https://i953.photobucket.com/albums/ae15/Ariovistus_Maximus/IX/1.jpg

Artan and his men ran to investigate their victims, making sure they were dead. After this was done, they left the bodies for the crows and moved on.

It was a few hours later that the small army reached the Trocmii village. By this time, the men had been preparing themselves mentally for some time; they were ready for what had to be done. Some of them gloried in it. Others wished there was another way.

The village chieftain assigned each of his captains a target. Artan’s group was to burn the enemy warlord’s longhouse. It was the best-protected building in the village, being surrounded by a stockade of sharpened stakes, and was the key to victory.

https://i953.photobucket.com/albums/ae15/Ariovistus_Maximus/IX/2.jpg

Artan considered the problem at hand. He smiled to himself. Let us see what that little scholar can do now, he thought.

“Kyros! Get over here,” Artan commanded with an authoritative tone. He was enjoying the opportunity to assert his rank over his brother.

“Yes, Artan?”

Artan growled. “SIR! You will give me the respect I demand as your superior!”

“Yes, sir.” Artan could see that his brother was chafing at the embarrassment, but Kyros was too wise to let his temper get the better of him.

“Your mission is to fire the chieftain’s longhouse. The rest of my men will occupy the chieftain’s guard. You must slip into the house and set it alight.”

“Can’t I at least have a few men, sir? That house is a strong defensive position! Why, I should need at least –“

Artan cut him short. “No! I need all my men to fight the Trocmii warlord’s bodyguard. You will accompany us inside, and then separate from the group and light the house.” Artan walked away before Kyros could protest further.

Kyros couldn’t believe his brother. How could he act so foolishly with so much at stake? No matter; he wouldn’t beg Artan for help. He would show his brother that what raw muscle could do well, muscles guided by quick wits could do better.

Finally, the village chief ordered his men forward with a shout. Artan’s group moved into town from the west. They met a few Trocmii warriors on their way in, but they were not prepared, having relied on their scouting parties to warn them in advance of impending danger. The Trocmii were cut down as they fled for their homes.

https://i953.photobucket.com/albums/ae15/Ariovistus_Maximus/IX/5.jpg

However, by the time they reached the center of town, the alert had been sounded, and hardy Trocmii warriors were assembling in the street, armed to the teeth for battle.

Artan glanced at his brother. What on earth…?

Kyros was running in step with the other warriors, carrying a long spear in one hand and a torch in the other. What does he intend to do? Batter the longhouse stockade with that spindly stick?

Kyros’ heart was thumping with excitement. Would his plan work? He’d seen it done in Athens, and practiced some in the gymnasium, but certainly not in these conditions. He said a quick prayer to Nike and forged ahead. As the others charged into the mass of Trocmii warriors, Kyros held back and waited to make sure he wouldn’t be spotted.

Then his eyes fixed on his target: the stockade. He ran up to it, pitched his torch over the side, and then ran back.

Artan looked back. The fool! Does he think the fire will spread to the house? The worthless dog! I’ll see that he’s punished for such incompetence!

But then Kyros stopped. He turned around, facing the wall. He started to run. He gained speed, using every ounce of energy in his body to build up momentum. His spear was raised over his head.

Just before reaching the stockade wall, he dug the spear into the ground and vaulted into the air. Pushing down on the spear, Kyros propelled himself higher. Twisting his body, he just cleared the spikes on top of the wall. He tumbled to the ground and hit it with a bone-jarring thud.

Artan gutted the man facing him, then looked back. WHAT?! By Teutatis! Kyros is flying! How –

Kyros got up quickly and collected himself. He seized his torch and ran to the longhouse. He glanced at the warlord’s troops; they were busy at the gate to the building, paying no attention to Kyros moving in behind them.

Kyros hurled his torch onto the longhouse roof. The fire caught on the thatching and spread quickly. Soon the entire roof was engulfed in flames. He heard screams. Several women ran out of the house and into the courtyard, coughing from the smoke they had inhaled.

Kyros ran behind the house and hid in some bushes. He couldn’t vault back over the wall; he had to hope that he would be able to exit through the gate.

He didn’t have long to wait. Upon seeing the burning longhouse and their women stumbling out of the building, many of the warlord’s men lost heart. Some surrendered, others ran, and some fell on their own swords.

https://i953.photobucket.com/albums/ae15/Ariovistus_Maximus/IX/6.jpg

The day was a complete triumph; the men of the house of Timothsenes were lauded as the bravest and best warriors of the tribe. After news of this victory spread through the countryside, they need not fear an attack for some time to come.

https://i953.photobucket.com/albums/ae15/Ariovistus_Maximus/IX/3.jpg

J.R.M

07-04-2009, 22:30

Good chapters. Go Kyros!

I don´t want to pressure you but.. How´s going your third chapter of "Ancient weapons study"?? :beam:

Ariovistus Maximus

07-05-2009, 04:09

Good chapters. Go Kyros!

I don´t want to pressure you but.. How´s going your third chapter of "Ancient weapons study"?? :beam:

LOL! I'm havin' a little trouble... :beam:

I'm doing it with supplementary screenshots from EB; takes a while.

ANYWAYS GLAD TO SEE SOMEONE IS READING THAT STUDY!!! Nobody comments in that thread. Dunno why. :laugh3:

I really need to stop playing TW online... :juggle2::juggle2::juggle2:

YEAH EVERYBODY I will need to take a breather for a day or two. Get all the screenshots up, etc.

I don't want to keep posting screenshot-less chapters. I have good ones for the above 2 chapters btw. :yes:

So sorry for the holdup; will be back up in a day or two.

Thanks guys!

Centurion1

07-07-2009, 03:01

the man with no name

07-07-2009, 22:32

Cool AAR dude. Very interesting.

Ariovistus Maximus

07-08-2009, 03:06

Bravo sir, im salivating at the mouth. as i said before i will review it. (drumroll) i give it a 5 out of 5. However, if you do not finish i will withdraw my very impressive review.

Seriously though i love it. i dont play much eb but know im getting the urge to fire it back up. The chapter length is perfect and i dont have to wince through an excellent story because of bad grammar.

Here have a balloon :balloon2:

Please take a nice, but not too long break, i definitely do not want this aar dying

Wow! thank you Centurion! Very encouraging!

I am most honored by the balloon. :bow:

And DON'T WORRY, the only way this AAR will die is if a raving lunatic breaks into my house and bashes the pc to pieces with a bat. :smash: < Kinda like that. :laugh4:

I just had to pause for a minute to collect myself. Once I get going, I still plan on a chapter a day.

So I guess it will end up being something like a chapter a day for a week, pause to collect myself, another chapter a day week, and so on. :beam:

The fault is mostly on the part of playing online. :shame:

Cool AAR dude. Very interesting.

Thank you!

You know, when I used to read people's AARs and they'd say stuff like "oh your comments make me want to keep going on" etc. I thought they were just being nice.

But now I'm writing one I see how much it helps to get feedback. :yes::yes::yes:

On the TWC (!!!) I'm getting like no comments. :wall: Erg. Annoying.

Anyways thanks guys and thrilled to see you enjoy it!

gamegeek2

07-11-2009, 07:35

:balloon2: take it. you deserve it. I'm a lazy ass who dropped AARs for EB II.

BerkeleyBoi

07-11-2009, 08:40

I like the story so far, keep up the good work! When do we get to see some screenshots from your EB campaign?

Ariovistus Maximus

07-12-2009, 00:45

:balloon2: take it. you deserve it. I'm a lazy ass who dropped AARs for EB II.

Wow! Thanks.

Really, though, I don't deserve all these balloons. :dizzy2: Not yet, anyways. When the AAR is FINISHED, THEN they will be deserved perhaps. :2thumbsup:

Anyways, I am really thrilled though that you liked it that much!

I like the story so far, keep up the good work! When do we get to see some screenshots from your EB campaign?

Thank you very much, and an excellent question. :sneaky:

Well, I'm not playing a campaign yet. :evilgrin: :tongue3: BWAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!

But I will be playing a PONTIC campaign in a few chapters. :beam:

And there will not be a medieval campaign. However, this is not the end of Sir John's story...

Ariovistus Maximus

07-12-2009, 00:48

SOOOOOO... I am FINALLY going to get cracking at this AAR again.

Sorry for the week-long intermission. You know how it is when you have a number of obligations that start getting behind... kinda makes you crash.

But now I am starting up again.

And, to the few faithful in my Ancient Weapons Study, :beam: I am working on that too.

So tonight I will work on screenshots and get the above two chapters all screenied up, and then I will post the next one, and THEN I will continue to work on the weapons study, which I keep wanting to add stuff to, which makes it take longer. :rolleyes3:

Ariovistus Maximus

07-12-2009, 03:39

Chapter X - The Suffering City

Constantinople, 1453 A.D.

My eyes were getting tired; I put away the scroll for a while. But it was quite a fascinating story. I wondered who had written it. Perhaps I would find out later in the story.

I looked over at Godwin. That old giant was strong as an ox. He was healing well, and would be able to walk around soon. I myself had been in the infirmary for two and one-half weeks, and would be able to leave soon enough.

I longed to be with my men, although as the days passed I saw more and more of them join me in the infirmary. They told me of others that had perished in combat. It made my heart sick to hear it, yet at the same time I was glad to know that they had finally found peace. What, I thought, is another few days of living? Of what moment is it whether I die today or tomorrow? My only wish was to die in combat as a man, not on my knees as a slave. I knew that Godwin wished the same.

I went out and walked through the city. Occasionally I heard a dull thud in the distance and then the sharp crash of a cannon ball hitting a building. The Turks fired into the city every now and then to pressure us and deprive us of rest.

Looking around the city, I was amazed at how it had changed since Godwin and I had arrived six months ago. It was so bare. It looked as lean and starved as the men who defended it.

I saw an old woman rummaging around desperately for anything that could possibly be contrived to be food. At the sight of me she ran back into her house. I decided it would be pointless to chide her for disobedience of the rules. What did it matter now? Sultan Mehmed II would have his way eventually, whether she left her house or not.

I moved farther in to the center of town. I was struck by a dreadful, reeking stench, and the most sobering sight of my life. Piles upon piles of bodies. There was apparently not time nor manpower to take care of them all.

I ran with the little strength I had back toward the infirmary. Such things were not to be seen The lives that had long left those bodies had had little enough dignity when they were alive. A person should at least have dignity after death.

I could not hold it back; I wept bitterly. For those poor souls, for myself and Godwin, for my family that would never see me again, I wept. God have mercy on us.

Having my fill of fresh air (such as it was), I went to visit with Godwin. I tried to shove those sights out of my mind, to block them from my memory.

“How are you feeling today, my friend?”

“Ahhh,” Godwin sighed, “I am decently well, all things considered. I simply chafe at this miserable inactivity, though. I feel that I grow fatter and more sluggardly by the day.”

I laughed. “Oh, Godwin, it will be many months of sitting down before your muscle loses its tone. You were incredible in that last fight with the Turks, you know.”

“Aye. I fear my success will only warrant greater punishment if they take me alive. By the looks of the men coming in, even the healthiest are lean and baggy-eyed. I think we cannot hold for long. I fear I may not be at your side when the end comes.”

“Worry not yourself, Godwin. You will be up soon.”

“Soon I may recover, but I think that our defenses will crumble sooner.”

“Indeed. Well, we shall see, shan’t we?”

“Aye, that we shall, John.”

I let Godwin go back to sleep, and wandered around the building. I walked around and visited other men I served with. They too were in low spirits. Months of fighting had taken its toll. The men were becoming too weary to fight on.

But Godwin’s words stuck in my mind. I feared that he was right; we couldn’t hold out for much longer. I was further convinced by the sobering graveyard in the center of town. The day of the city’s fall was not far off.

Having nothing to occupy my mind except the horrible scenes of that afternoon, I went back to my manuscript. It was a comfort to me to be taken to another world, a different time and place than the misery I lived daily.

Ariovistus Maximus

07-12-2009, 03:42

And there you have it.

All the chapters are updated; they have all the screens they need, and various asthetic fixes have been made.

And I added today's chapter. :beam:

We are under way once again!

Note, however, that not all chapters have screenshots. Some parts of the story are for the purpose of character development and to make you feel like you're in the story; not much screenshot material.

However, I like them, as I know many of you do, and they are important to the story.

Thanks!

Centurion1

07-12-2009, 16:52

Excellent i was a little frightened that you werent coming back for a little while but now i understand that you were simply building up the suspense lol. :laugh4: Cant wait for the next chapter :2thumbsup:

Ariovistus Maximus

07-13-2009, 04:07

Chapter X - The Path to Understanding

Galatia, 296 B.C.

Timothsenes was worried; he hadn’t seen either of his boys for over a day. He had noticed when they came back from the raid at the Trocmii village that they seemed to be at odds about something. He thought he had noticed some friction before that as well.

Then Artan had left to go hunting, and Kyros had decided to go off into the woods to study. Neither of them had been back since they left the previous morning.

Then he saw a silhouette in the distance. It was Kyros.

“Come in, my son! Come in! You must be tired.”

“Thank you, father,” Kyros responded glumly.

“What is it, Kyros? I know you and your brother are having trouble.”

“He hates me, father! I know not even what I’ve done, but he loathes even the sight of me!”

Timothsenes sighed. Now he knew the problem. “This is partly my own doing, I know. I’ve seen it in him; he is a very competitive boy, and has always felt that he must measure up to you. I fear I have not given him the support he longs for.”

“How can I speak to him, father? What can I say?”

“I think, Kyros, that you cannot say anything. You must do. Artan will respond better to actions than words. I will try as well. Perhaps we will be able to reach him.”

“Perhaps, father; perhaps.” Kyros got up and went outside.

Timothsenes paced through the house. What was to be done? Perhaps Aderyn would know. He found her walking through the forest.

“Good evening, dear wife,” Timothsenes said softly.

She looked at him tenderly. “Hello, Timothsenes.”

They walked down the forest path, hand in hand.
“You are troubled, Timothsenes.”

Timothsenes smiled. Aderyn seemed to read his mind at all times.

“It’s the boys. They seem to be at each other’s throats lately. What can I do?”

“Artan feels insignificant; he’s always felt the need to compete with Kyros,” Aderyn responded. “You must spend some time with him; let him know that he is important as himself, regardless of his brother’s abilities.”

“Yes, this I must do. But how?”

“Each year since Kyros was in Athens, you went out of your way to be with him and help him through. Now you must do this for Artan.”

“But Aran has always been here with me! Isn’t that something at least?”

“But, Timothsenes, it’s not only the time, but the effort that counts.”

“I see. I will go to Artan and talk to him.”

Timothsenes gently kissed his wife on the cheek. “What would I do without you, my dear?”

“Wither away into old age, I suspect,” Adyrin beamed. She gazed fondly into his eyes.

Truly, I am the luckiest of men, Timothsenes thought as they walked down the trail.

Reality=Chaos

07-13-2009, 09:27

setting the conditions for a better relationship between the brothers eh... good stuff:2thumbsup:

Ariovistus Maximus

07-13-2009, 15:24

Yeah, aren't they such a cute couple? :clown:

Oh, yes, Centurion1. It was all about suspense. :laugh4: lol yes I waited a whole week (or was it two) just to let it soak in! :beam: Er... not. No I was just taking a break from my rather quick start.

Next chapter coming. By my calculations, we should be starting a Pontic campaign... either this week or next week. I haven't written that far yet, but it's close. :sneaky:

Ariovistus Maximus

07-13-2009, 20:58

Chapter XI - Discussions

THOT! The arrow hit its mark perfectly. Artan smiled with satisfaction.

Few men can bring down a ram as I can, he thought to himself.

He walked over to the fallen animal and began dressing it. He was well used to the process (as well as the stench), and was nearly finished when he heard movement behind him.

He was relieved to see it was his father. What could he be doing up here?

“Why, Artan, I see you’ve taken a ram!”

“I’ve taken many rams, father.”

“Yes, this is so. Do you need any help?”

Now Artan knew a talk was coming. His father rarely accompanied him on the hunt. He sighed and waited for the inevitable. But Timothsenes simply sat down beside him and started to cut away at the ram. Another hour later, they were finished.

“Are you planning to come home tonight?” Timothsenes inquired.

“I suppose so. I have caught enough game to last some months.”

“Well done, my son! You are becoming a real provider for our family.”
Artan looked at his father. What was he thinking?

“Father, you must have come up to talk to me about something. What is it?”

“Nothing, Artan. I simply wanted to see you, since you have been away for some time.”

Timothsenes glanced at Artan. Artan looked surprised, as if he didn’t know what to say next. Timothsenes smiled to himself. Ah, the insecurities of youth.

Timothsenes and Artan returned to the village with enough meat to supply them for months.

Galatia, 290 B.C.

Six years later, Timothsenes had made great improvement with each of his sons, but the brothers still had not come together. They seemed never to forget what had occurred between them when Kyros first returned from Athens.

Artan had continued to spend more time in the forests and with the other young men in the village, and Kyros travelled often to the burgeoning city of Ankyra to commune with the intellectuals of the city. Thus, the years passed without their crossing paths very often at all.

It pained Timothsenes to see his sons at odds with each other in such a way. He and Aderyn did their best, but the young men seemed unwilling to make the effort to make amends.

But, then, Timothsenes could not have seen the coming hand of fate that would deal so drastically in both their lives. That would soon change.

Alsatia

07-14-2009, 07:13

Amazing AAR!

Can't wait for next chapter.

(Btw, i'd give you a balloon if I could.)

Ariovistus Maximus

07-14-2009, 19:44

Many thanks! Next chapter is coming.

Well, I don't think there's a limit to balloons you can give...

... but I don't think I deserve a whole slew of balloons just yet. :laugh4:

I am honored though that you find it worthy! :bow:

Ariovistus Maximus

07-14-2009, 19:45

Chapter XII - Call to Arms

Kyros awoke to a furious cacophony of shouting heralds, marching troops, and galloping horses. He was staying in Ankyra for a few weeks to study with some friends in the city, which was rapidly growing to become the dominant city of Galatia.

“To arms! All men of military age are to assemble at the central plaza!”

Kyros curiously stepped into the street to find the source of the commotion, and was swept into the crowd of young men heading for the city center. Clearly the city was in some kind of danger.

Soon he found himself in a large crowd in the great plaza, facing the City Council Hall. A large man clad in armor stepped up on a platform before them.

“Men, I am Bagacos, Captain of the High Chieftain’s Guard. You will come to know me well in the weeks to follow.

Galatians, we face a threat. A threat greater than any which has faced our people since our ancestors settled this great land. A threat from the east.

As many of you know, we have clashed with the fledgling kingdom of Pontus many times. But a fledgling it is no more. Having secured an alliance with the mighty Seleucids, Pontus has set to work carving out an empire out of Mikra Asia. The kingdoms of Cappadocia, Cilicia, Lycaonia, Phrygia, and even our ally, Bithynia, have fallen to their swords. At last they come to our door.

But I say that the proud people of Galatia, the sons and daughters of Belenos and Teutatis, will not bow the knee so obligingly! We will make them wish they had been content as the People of the Waters!

Every one of you is capable of bearing arms. You are strong, you are fit, and you are Galatian! So come with me, and let us defend our homes together!”

A rousing cheer burst through the morning air. Each man was ready and willing to fight.

After the general’s speech, the crowd drifted toward the city barracks, where arms were distributed among the men. When this was done, they proceeded to the city drill square.

There, they were divided into groups based on age, experience, and service seen. Being an “intellectual,” Kyros was placed with the younger and less experienced fighters. They were to serve as skirmishers for the main army.

At the end of the day, each man was given three days to visit his family before serious training began.

According to Gallic custom, the last man to arrive would be executed, and his body burned.

J.R.M

07-14-2009, 20:29

As always. Great chapter!:2thumbsup: But. Beware the SILVER DEATH :skull:, i never trust those guys
Keep'em coming!

Ariovistus Maximus

07-14-2009, 23:26

Indeed. Well, I have some plans. :sneaky: :evilgrin:

This would be a good time to inform all of you how it's gonna be.

The story will merge with a Pontic campaign shortly. :beam:

Thus, as per the norm with AARs, here are my rules and settings.

Game

Rome: Total War

Mod

Europa Barbarorum

Difficulty

M/M (for roleplay) :beam:

House Rules

I am going to enable myself to cheat, but only under certain conditions.

First of all, it drives me crazy when my allies backstab me 3 turns after making an agreement. I will use Force Diplomacy to make peace treaties and alliances when I think such action would be realistic in real life.

I also have a few scenarios in mind that will make the force diplomacy more realistic and fit into the story better. They will also make for a more interesting campaign. :beam: You will see, as I expect to be invaded by the Seleucids in my first few turns. :smash:

And lastly, I may use Add_Money if my campaign is at stake. :beam: Although I have interesting plans for the END of the AAR, I don't want to lose the campaign right away. :skull:

Mind you, I don't expect to need this. However, I don't have that much experience with EB, and I thought I'd mention it just in case.

Anyways, now you have the plan, which should go into effect... maybe next week. :yes:

Thanks readers!

gamegeek2

07-15-2009, 00:25

FD is COMPLETELY necessary.

Centurion1

07-18-2009, 23:23

I absolutley agree, i cant imagine writing an aar (or with it to be honest) without force diplomacy

Ariovistus Maximus

07-19-2009, 04:11

Hey guys! Sorry I'm a bit late.

My internet was off ALL of yesterday. :wall:

And I confess I've been a bit busy with other stuff. :embarassed:

But anyways here comes the next chapter. :2thumbsup:

OH YES. IMPORTANT, TAKE NOTICE:

I'm going to have to uninstall>reinstall EB. :sweatdrop::skull:

My antivirus software messed with it and it is much more prone to CTD's etc., mostly during battles. So I'm going to redo all that and put the force-diplomacy mod on it, and maybe since I'm doing that I'll install it for BI and experience enhanced AI! :beam:

But anyways this may take some doing so there may be a pause once I get to the campaign, as that part is not far away.

Ariovistus Maximus

07-19-2009, 04:23

Chapter XIII - Preparations

Bidding his parents farewell, Kyros mounted his horse. He had been able to spend but a day with his parents, as he wished to reserve one day for the trip back to Ankyra.

He brought Artan with him also, as each man in the city militia was ordered to bring all the men of military age in his family. Kyros felt that the situation must truly be an emergency for such measures to be taken.

“Wait, my sons!” Timothsenes yelled after them as they trotted away. “You are not prepared!”

“But father,” Kyros said in confusion, “we have already packed all the provisions we will need for the journey.”

“No, not that,” Timothsenes said. “I have something for Artan.”

Timothsenes was carrying a long, thin bundle in his arms. The boys dismounted their horses, wondering what it might be.

Timothsenes drew from the bundle a large Greek sword, a xyphos, made of the finest metals. Artan stopped in amazement. Kyros was also surprised, but knew the sword from his days in Athens.

“This blade has served me well over the years. Artan, you are the warrior of the family now, and I want you to wear this sword on the day of battle.”

Timothsenes embraced both his boys, and they started on their way.

The two brothers rode through the main gate. The city was abuzz with activity. They could hear captains shouting orders, men marching over the drill grounds, and metal clanking everywhere. All the blacksmiths of the city were working furiously to supply the army, as evidenced by the clouds of smoke billowing from their chimneys.

Kyros led Artan to the Western Barracks, to which he had been assigned. They went into the captain’s hut, where they reported for duty. All the while Artan wondered at the sights he was taking in each moment. Never had he seen a city with so many people, such grand buildings, and such great wealth. Kyros smiled to himself at his brother’s amazement, remembering his astonishment arriving at Athens the first time.

The two brothers were sent to the armory for their weapons. Artan brought his sword with him.

An armorer walked over to them. Kyros, being with the less experienced troops, received a buckler and a spear.

The armorer eyed Artan’s sword. “A fine blade you have there. But, can you use it?”

“I have served my tribe many times in battle,” replied Artan.

“In that case,” the armorer went on, “You will fight in the ranks of heavy infantry. We could use more stout men like you.”

Artan received a coat of chain mail and a large shield, and was sent to a barracks in the center of town to train with the more experienced troops.

“See you on the field, brother,” Artan said. Kyros nodded.

Centurion1

07-19-2009, 23:09

Ah and the plot thickens

Ariovistus Maximus

07-22-2009, 13:42

Sorry I've been rather sporadic lately. Got a variety of things on my plate.

So what I was thinking is that I will postpone this AAR just long enough to finish my Ancient Weapons Study. That way I can be done with the study and focus on the AAR, instead of dabbling in both of them and making a mess.

While I do that, I'll reinstall EB and all that so I can have it all ready for the AAR campaign.

So if all goes well I can start up in a week or so. I'll probably pop in a chapter here and there when I have time too.

Ariovistus Maximus

07-27-2009, 15:18

Well everybody, I'm off for one week.

I'll be at Oshkosh Wisconsin for the EAA Airventure, the world's largest fly-in airshow (IIRC).

However my sister has a laptop so I think I'll write a bit during the (6 hr) trip. I'll probably have something for you when I get back.

Speaking of which, I'll bet there are a couple of members here who are going to Oshkosh... it's a pretty big event. Would be hilarious to run into one or two. :laugh4:

Ariovistus Maximus

07-31-2009, 22:58

Hey guys! Not home yet but I've been able to get some writing done on the road.

And I'm getting internet from a library near where I'm staying.

Unlike my Study, I can do this w/o an internet connection for research. :juggle2:

So I think you will like the chapters ahead. :sneaky:

Oh, and I have another question:

Is it OK with you guys that I haven't had many pictures lately? I really don't think it's feasable with a lot of the story to get screenshots for it, especially since a lot of it is along the lines of character development and storyline rather than the game.

Anyways, when action occurs I try to get good screenies in there for ya.

Centurion1

08-06-2009, 03:05

Gah, sorry i haven't been checking lately. I have been busy in the gameroom and backroom........

No, but i like it without all the screenies. You are a good enough writer that i am still able to visualize. PLEASE DON'T LET THIS DIE. NO ONE HAS BEEN HERE IN A WEEK :wall: Write man WRITE........

J.R.M

08-06-2009, 03:33

Centuron is right, just don´t let this die..
I like this one :2thumbsup: and dont worry about few pictures. Looking for next update, CYA.

Ariovistus Maximus

08-06-2009, 18:39

So so sorry.

Yes, I was in Wisconsin, and I actually have about 6 new chapters written!!! :2thumbsup:

But I saved them on my sister's laptop, and I haven't seen her since... :wall:

So I have to get the file from her laptop. :embarassed: But it's coming!

Glad to see that people are concerned as to this AARs future. :beam:

No worries; as I said this AAR shall not die 'till it be finished! Which will be like... a year. :smash:

Ariovistus Maximus

08-13-2009, 22:55

Well, I hope you all are not disaffected by the long pause.

But the next update comes tomorrow! I'll be getting to my sister's computer and retrieving the MS word document containing the next 6 updates. :beam:

Thanks guys!

J.R.M

08-13-2009, 23:04

F%CK YEAAHH!, welcome back boy, nice to hear next chapter coming tomorrow:2thumbsup:

Ariovistus Maximus

08-15-2009, 02:49

Chapter XIV - Training Continues

Artan ducked quickly. The thick blade of a wooden sword missed his head by inches. Taking his opportunity while his opponent was off-balance, he dealt a blow that sent the man reeling to the ground.

“Excellent work, young man!” The trainer applauded. “That is how to win the fight; use the enemy’s own technique against him! Where they are strong, avoid them; where they are weak, that is where you must attack.”

Artan and Kyros had been training in their respective barracks for weeks. Artan had quickly gained respect as an effective fighter. He could take on any man that came against him.

Kyros, however, had less fortune on the drill grounds.

“No, no, no! You must block to the right!”

Kyros gritted his teeth in frustration.

“Really, Kyros, I don’t know if you will survive the first engagement! At times you show promise, and other times you hardly know right from left!”

But as the weeks progressed, the men grew more confident. Confident of their own abilities, and more importantly confident in their abilities as a group.

For a full month the men refined their skills in armed and unarmed combat, in marching,, and in long-distance running. They trained with the sword, the spear, the javelin, and with their fists.

As marching time drew near, the men felt prepared to defend their country from any threat that could come against it.

At last the day came. The men assembled in the town square one last time before they would march to meet the army of Pontus.

They were met again by their commander, Bagacos.

“Now, men, we are ready. We have achieved the impossible; succeeded in the daunting task of shaping a great fighting force in so short a time.

But your days and weeks of effort have born fruit! We now go to meet the Pontic with a force of 12,000 trained men, come from every tribe and region in Mikra Asia.

Nevertheless, not all of us will return home; not every man is destined to return to his family in safety. But rest assured that, by your sacrifice, you brothers, sons, and daughters will remain in safety and security.

Now I ask you: if each man does his duty, what, army can face us? And if each man will go above his duty, what battle will not be ours? None! I tell you today while our hearts strive together, there is no field, no fortress, no people that will be our match! Nations will quake in fear under the thunder of our footsteps!

So let our cry be VICTORY!”

A rousing cheer broke out from every man in the plaza. Shouts rang out through the city. Now the were truly ready.

Ariovistus Maximus

08-15-2009, 18:01

Chapter XV - The Ordeal Begins

Bagacos paced back and forth in his tent reflecting on his words earlier in the day.

Were the men really ready? What would the coming days and weeks bring?
It was true enough that he had 12,000 men at his disposal, but as to their training he was less certain. A month was adequate for those men who were already familiar with the ways of warfare, but to the uninitiated it was scratching the surface at best.

The men were reasonable at working together, but despite how he had proclaimed so proudly that the army boasted troops from several different areas, Bagacos was concerned that this might effect the unity and coordination of the army.

Indeed, Bagacos had to be careful lest he place rival tribes together on the field of battle. He had to manage to work with Galatians, Bithynians, Lydians, Cilicians, Greeks, and even some Pontics, and even more importantly he had to make them work with each other.

The Pontics, however, were not especially strong themselves. For many years they had been under the thumb of their powerful neighbor, the Seleucids. Pontus was not really one of the Diadochi; rather a small kingdom opportunely created in the chaos after Alexander’s death.

Still, Mithridates IV of Pontus was a shrewd, capable leader, and his men had fought well in campaigns throughout Asia Minor. They were a force to be reckoned with.

Nevertheless, he had to paint a positive picture for his men. The challenges of command should be left with the commander, and not burden the others. Confidence would be key to victory; fear, the key to defeat. Let the men find out the mettle of their foe in battle, not before.

Bagacos resolved this in his mind, and made preparations to march.

Ariovistus Maximus

08-15-2009, 18:03

Well, how do you like that? :beam:

Two days' chapters before most of you had time to read the first one! :2thumbsup:

Naturally, I can't keep that pace up until my weapons study is done.

gamegeek2

08-16-2009, 07:42

:smash::smash::smash::smash::smash:

the man with no name

08-17-2009, 16:29

:smash::smash::smash::smash::smash:

Good job man.

Centurion1

08-17-2009, 17:00

excellent. Glad to see you are back. Oh and why don't you just put your pictures in spoilers if you are worried about them taking up to much space?

Ariovistus Maximus

08-17-2009, 17:24

:smash::smash::smash::smash::smash:

Hehehehe, won't you be surprised at the coming chapters... :mellow::evilgrin:

:smash::smash::smash::smash::smash:

Good job man.

Ah! Good to see a new reader! Glad you enjoy it. :2thumbsup:

excellent. Glad to see you are back. Oh and why don't you just put your pictures in spoilers if you are worried about them taking up to much space?

Thanks! Well, I'm not really concerned about space...

Really at the moment there's just no screenshots to take, you know? It's all storyline, although I could take some shots of a bunch of peasants in a city center or something. :beam:

But fear not; screenshot material is coming. :sneaky:

J.R.M

08-17-2009, 21:23

OHH YeAH! battle pictures would be awesome! BTW good chapters man.:smash::smash::smash:

Ariovistus Maximus

08-17-2009, 22:24

Oh; you bet I will take pics of the battle. :2thumbsup:

Speaking of which, I am reinstalling EB even now. Well, not right now because I have to download a couple things.

But it's coming. :beam:

And of course there will be tonight's chapter... :mellow: I don't remember if it's tonight or tomorrow that a major development takes place. :evilgrin:

Ariovistus Maximus

08-19-2009, 19:52

All right. Once again I have been somewhat absent minded, so pray accept my apologies with 2 chapters for today. :beam:

Tell you what, though. In 1 week I will be entering my local technical college. Ironically, I will probably be less busy than I am right now, as I have a TON of preliminary junk to wade through. So, I'm hoping that I can become more regular with BOTH my projects soon.

Ariovistus Maximus

08-19-2009, 19:56

Chapter XVI – A Sinister Plot

Feet ached; blisters burned. The sun glowered down, sapping the men’s energy. Both armies had been on the march for weeks.

Mithridates had hoped to take Galatia by surprise, but it seemed that fortune was not with him on that account. Regardless, he was confident in his men and his own ability.

Knowing the importance of the ground on which the battle is fought, Mithridates was determined to fight only on his terms. He knew from his studies how many a weak army had bested a larger force on good ground. Thus good ground he was determined to have.

Yet time was not on his side; Pontus was not a great military power, and he had levied as large an army as he dared for this campaign. This left other territories exposed and bare of garrisons.

So he had to make the Galatians come to him. How could he accomplish this…

“Cambyses! I need you.”

“Yes, my lord,” replied Mithridates’ lieutenant.

“Your scouts have canvassed the area efficiently?” Mithridates inquired.

“Aye, sir. We have good knowledge of the region.”

“Then I need you to suggest to me a target for a raid. It needn’t be large, nor wealthy. A small village would fulfill my requirements exactly.”

“Well, my lord, then I would suggest the village of Bagibareia, a settlement of the Tolistobogii. Not especially large, close by, and many of the men of the village have joined Bagacos’ army in Ancyra.”

“Excellent.” Mithridates smiled. “Prepare the men to march.”

Not a pleasant job, Mithridates thought, but still a necessity. What must be done must be done.

Ariovistus Maximus

08-19-2009, 19:57

XVII – Conscience Versus Duty

Under Mithridates’ ever-watchful eye, the men formed up in marching order.

“Sometimes, Cambyses, our duties are unpleasant; they are, nonetheless, our duties, and must be carried out.”

Cambyses nodded. He didn’t really understand what his commander was speaking of, but he had no reason to question his king’s opinion.

After two hours’ march, the city came into view. Mithridates’ sharp eye could make out the forms of townspeople going about their daily tasks. He saw women gathering at the community well and children playing in the fields, none of them for a moment suspecting the vast array of troops drawn up before them.

Mithridates looked up into the sky. “The time has come. Cambyses, order the men into the town.”

Cambyses nodded in submission and rode to his men. Gathering the respective captains of each troop, he ordered them to march into the village and occupy the central plaza, the chieftain’s longhouse, and any other significant buildings in the city.

When all was prepared, the king gave the word. “Forward, men. Quick march!”

The moving mass of Pontic troops was not spotted until they had nearly reached the town. The remaining men in the village, mostly the very old and very young, grimly determined to fight to the death. They assumed that the attack was from a rival tribe, and that no mercy would be shown. They had no idea of the Pontic invasion.
The motley force of defenders was easily brushed aside. Mithridates ordered that the townspeople should all be ordered to their homes.

Cambyses was surprised. He had expected that the king would address the townsfolk. Surely he must have some purpose in coming to the city…

Mithridates’ chariot barreled into the city. The king glanced over the rows of huts, then faced Cambyses.

“Leave the dead defenders out in the streets. Next, form a small troop of men and set fire to a few houses, including the chieftain’s longhouse. I should think about ten huts, chosen at random, should suffice…”

Mithridates continued giving orders. Cambyses was shocked for a moment. He knew his king to be a cold and calculating man on the battlefield; such things were required of a man of war. But this?

For the first time, Cambyses dared: he questioned his king. He knew that it would be but a small matter for the king to have him beheaded, nevertheless, he knew he must.

“But, my liege, surely-“

Mithridates cut him off immediately. “It is as the times demand. You will follow your king’s orders.”

And that was that. Cambyses hesitated for a moment.

“Conscience, or duty? “ He asked himself.

Finally, Cambyses swallowed his reluctance and gave the order.

Mithridates’ commands were swiftly carried out, and with that the men marched back to their camp, to engage yet again in the cat-and-mouse game of strategic maneuvers.

Ariovistus Maximus

08-19-2009, 19:58

OK, since some of you will have jumped to the last post from your subscriptions page, I just thought I'd note that you should begin 3 posts up.

Thanks!

Ariovistus Maximus

08-20-2009, 19:03

Chapter XVIII - Word Spreads

Bagacos’ men slept fitfully that night. All day, a cloud of foreboding hung over the Gallic army. The wise men that travelled with the army saw only portents of ill fortune.

Then a rider came barreling into the camp. He blew past the guards and rode up to Bagacos’ tent in the center of camp. Bagacos’ saw that he was a messenger.

“A sighting of the Pontic host, sir,” the messenger announced, almost with an apologetic tone. “And not but a half-day’s march from here.”

“They took a village, sir. The village of Bagibareia.” Now the messenger appeared nervous.

“Took a village? But there is no position of value nearby.”

“True, sire, but… they were apparently not interested in booty.”

Bagacos eyed the messenger. “There is something which you avoid telling me, soldier. Spit it out.”

“Yes sir. Well, sire, they…” the messenger seemed to have difficulty forming his sentence. “they sacked the village.”

“WHAT?” Bagacos was incredulous. “But what could they possibly loot from a tiny village?”

“Nothing, sir. But we found men dead in the streets. The townspeople were in shock. Many huts were completely burned to the ground, including the chieftain’s house. The crops were burned…”

The messenger continued.

Bagacos felt ill. He could feel the bile rising to his mouth. His mind was filled with rage.

He slammed his fist into the table below him.

“Enough! To home, soldier!”

The messenger left immediately, trailing a cloud of dust as he galloped away.

Ariovistus Maximus

08-21-2009, 23:49

XIX – Breaking the News

Bagacos felt he could hardly bear it, but he had to address the men; it was his duty as their commander. He only hoped that he would be able to restrain them. He stood up before his troops.

“Men,” Bagacos struggled, “a messenger rode into camp last night. He told me that the enemy army has been spotted.”

At this news, the men seemed excited and eager to be on the verge of clashing with the enemy.

“But, men, I must simply tell you. I cannot acquaint you with the story by degrees.

The village of Bagibareia has been attacked. Much of the village has been destroyed and many of its inhabitants murdered by the barbarian invader.”

The drone of men chatting amongst themselves ended instantly. The only sound in the still air was of birds calling in the distance.

Kyros whitened as though he had died. He searched the crowd for his brother. Artan’s face was likewise drained of color.

Bagibareia? But… Bagibareia was their home. Their mother and father were there…

Kyros’ eyes caught Artan pushing his way out of the crowd of men, towards his quarters. Kyros ran after him.

“Oh, brother, what is to be done?” Kyros grasped his brother’s arms. Artan shrugged away and let out a fierce cry of grief.

“We must find them.” Artan gasped. “We must find them…”

Kyros glimpsed at his brother through the tears. Artan was in shock. All he said was, “We must find them.”

“Come, Artan, we shall make haste to the village straightaway.”

“No, no Kyros. You go. I must…”

“But you said that we must find them!”

“Yes, I must find them. And I will kill them.”

Kyros stood back and stared at his brother. He was not looking for his parents; he was looking for the men who gad brought about his parents’ death.

So the two brothers parted: Kyros hoping to find his parents among the living, and Artan preparing to number his parents’ murderers with the dead.

Ariovistus Maximus

08-21-2009, 23:56

Take notice that the name of Kyros and Artan's home village is now "Bagibareia."

The previous one I just came up with late at night so that there would be a word there. :beam:

J.R.M

08-22-2009, 00:32

Nice, pretty nice chapters:2thumbsup:
Artan will kick some @sses...:smash::smash:

Ariovistus Maximus

08-22-2009, 00:47

So, tell me how you think this story could be better! :2thumbsup:

By the way, thanks for the support on this. I appreciate the comments!!!

Ariovistus Maximus

08-23-2009, 03:54

XX - "If you wrong us, shall we not revenge?"

Cambyses did not feel well; he needed to get out into the countryside for some time alone. He left camp quickly, trying to avoid being noticed.

His night had been haunted by the screams of helpless women and children trapped in their burning homes. He wanted only to forget; to erase his memory. He told himself that it was a necessity; that in wartime unpleasant tasks must be done to accomplish the greater goal…

A fierce pair of eyes watched him from a stand of trees nearby.

Artan saw a well-equipped soldier riding away from the Pontic camp.

Perhaps he is the one. Perhaps he gave the order. If not, he is probably important enough to know who is responsible for my parents’ deaths.

Artan sprang from a tall tree and tackled Cambyses. The Pontic officer was engrossed in his thoughts and taken completely off guard.

Artan jumped on Cambyses and glared at him, piercing straight into his soul.

“Are you the scum that killed my father and mother?” Artan growled. Hi fierceness struck terror into Cambyses’ being.

“Tell me who burned a nearby village not two days past!”

“Wait! Wait! It was the king; it was Mithridates!”

“Mithidates? The King of Pontus himself?” Artan began to grasp the magnitude of the Pontic threat; the king himself lead the army.

“Yes, it was he. Do not punish me for his mistakes!”

Artan got up slowly, but pinned Cambyses on the ground with his feet. He fingered his sword; the sword his father had given him to protect his family. But protect them he could not; he would have to settle with something else.

Artan fingered his sword for a moment, then eyed Cambyses.

“Were you there?” Artan inquired.

“At the village? Well, I was… I was with th-the king.”

“Then you have your own share of mistakes,” Artan growled.

Artan raised his sword high above his head.

A piercing shout shattered the morning air. Birds broke into flight as the dull thud of the falling sword echoed through the forest.

Cambyses’ limbs fell limp to the ground. His head rolled down the path a few feet.

Artan stood up, feeling drained from the intensity of his hatred. He wiped off his sword and stumbled out of the path.

He felt almost surprised. He had expected vengeance to be satisfying; all he felt was the need to punish more men for his loss. He felt that it would never end.

Centurion1

08-24-2009, 00:42

Oh are we about to have some regicide......

And the crowning of a new king....

J.R.M

08-24-2009, 00:57

Come on Artan!! Join us to the Dark Side of The Force! Kill´em all
MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!:smash::smash::smash:

Nice chapter.

Ariovistus Maximus

08-24-2009, 01:31

Ooh. Funny to see how people are predicting where the story will go. Very interesting.

It should also be interesting to see where the storyline is similar and where it is different to what you expected. :sneaky:

the man with no name

08-25-2009, 18:59

:smash::smash::smash::smash::smash:

the man with no name

09-08-2009, 03:24

Sorry for the double post but i think it's time for an update. If ur busy w/ school then don't worry bout it

Ariovistus Maximus

09-08-2009, 14:09

Mostly I want to finish my ancient weapons study (my study that is in itself ancient). :laugh4:

When I finish that I will be happy.

Although starting the end of this month I'm going to be teaching a history class for a homeschool group...

It's only every other week though. :beam: School and the AWS are the real time-eaters.

I'm sorry if the long intervals between updates is a problem though. :thumbsdown: It kind of makes you forget what was going on and it's more difficult to get back into the story. :sweatdrop:

Anyways I'll be working on it. The story is in a kind of difficult place now... rather a challenge. But rest assured we shall move on. :yes:

the man with no name

09-09-2009, 22:07

Centurion1

09-10-2009, 01:38

ready and waiting, boyo

Ariovistus Maximus

09-22-2009, 04:07

OK everybody, so sorry for the long wait.

RL is hectic as ever, and...

well, you know all the excuses already, so I'll spare you. :beam: Anyways, thanks for your support on this, and I hope it hasn't been so long that you've forgotten where the story was.

Anyways, it's a bit of a refresher, because we're cutting back for a look into the life of John the Crusader.

I'll be interested to see what you think of this chapter.

Ariovistus Maximus

09-22-2009, 04:08

Chapter XXI - Reflection

A thundering “crack” resounded through the evening air as a great metal ball smashed into the walls of Constantinople. The Turks were tired too, and were in no haste to rush the city again when they could just as well sit outside it. They were surprised at our near-fanatical defense of this battered ruin of a city. Now they contented themselves to sit outside and fire into the town just often enough to keep us nervous and rigid. Nonetheless, many of us were quite accustomed to the noise, and others simply could not resist the body’s call to rest even if they had wished to do so.

It was not just sleep and rest which stretched thin. Supplies ran ever lower; each day more non-combatants took their chance at escape. Conditions were at such a point that they cared no less for capture, and thus death, then they did to rot in the “safety” of Constantinople.

Yet no man capable of bearing the sword (and many who could not for want of strength) was prepared to forsake his sacred duty to defend the city, even unto death.

I fear for Godwin. His wounds do not heal, yet he seems intent to fall in battle. I think he would have to be carried just to reach the field, his body is so weak. There is little to be done; the harried monks who tend the wounded have so many to tend, and so little to divide amongst them.

For my part, I am ready to die, yet I see no cause to actively seek death. If I must, then I shall; as a warrior I accept that. If I must seek out death for it to come upon me, that is a different matter. I shall defend the city, surely. Yet I find it strange to die for something which I have but this once seen in my life, and by doing so forsake living for those things which I have always held dear. Let God, and history judge me; I determine this out of the deepest yearning and meditation of my heart, and in prayer.

Perhaps I am wrong; how can I tell? How can mortal man decide in those matters which only God in His wisdom can see? If I sin in this, I sin in the best motives at heart. I must choose a course, not fully knowing the way; therefore this is the course I shall choose.

If I shall find myself standing at the last with my men around me, I shall die with them. If I shall find myself yet living, and the city lost, then I shall not seek it; let it come to find me, when God chooses.

Perhaps, whether in Heaven and endowed with infinite understanding, or upon reflection in later years of my life, I shall truly understand the choice to be made.

the man with no name

09-23-2009, 02:23

:smash::smash::smash::smash::smash: Yeh! Nice update.

Ariovistus Maximus

10-11-2009, 01:43

Sorry it's been so long, everybody. I just can't believe that time is moving so FAST! There just SO much to do...

See, the problem is that the story's in a rather delicate place right now.

You can't sense it because you don't know what's coming next. But how to make the transition into the next several chapters believable... well it's complicated. We are just entering a major turn in BOTH stories. And you can guess what they are.

Obviously Constantinople is about to collapse - what will happen to John and Godwin?

And the Galatians are drawing ever closer to the defining battle of their conflict with Pontus.

So you can see I have a lot to deal with here. :beam: And I don't want to lose authenticity in the process.

Ariovistus Maximus

10-11-2009, 05:16

All right, good news!

I sat down and had a nice writing session (yay for the weekend), and here comes the next chapter! I had a lot of fun with this one; there are so many interesting possibilities.

And, if I've done my job right, you should be squirming with suspense. :mellow:

Hehehehehehehehe... :evilgrin:

Well, it's not THAT good; I'm no professional, but I hope you'll find it interesting all the same. :beam:

Ariovistus Maximus

10-11-2009, 05:17

Chapter XXII - Prisoner

The clouds of dust were chokingly thick. Days of walking, tied by the hands to a horse, had left him weary. Never had he felt so humiliated; never had he received such base treatment.

Timothsenes glared at his captor, who did not return his gaze. Mithridates, meanwhile, was still considering how exactly to respond to this gift of fate.

Cambyses was a good man, but with Timothsenes at my side, my plans have such potential! Not only is he an experienced soldier, but he has the respect of the Galatians. With his support I may not have to fight Galatia at all!

“What an alliance that would be,” Mithridates schemed to himself.

Timothsenes wondered what Mithridates could be thinking. He knew that the King of Pontus was a wise, clever man. One would have to be to carve a kingdom out of the pandemonium surrounding Alexander’s death. But Mithridates had, although not one of Alexander’s Successors, done just that. Not only that, but he actually founded the only remaining Persian Dynasty, being descendant of a long line of Persian Satraps.

Indeed, Timothsenes could see himself going far in the world at Mithridates’ right hand. He knew what Mithridates was thinking. The Kingdom of Pontus was by no means a well-seated throne. Seleucus I Nicator sat upon a hungry throne, simply waiting for (and often making) an excuse to enlarge his territory and increase his already vast number of principalities and add lengthen his list of victories. Mithridates had to tread softly, lest he find himself a mere puppet of the Greeks - as the rest of Persia - or worse, a slave.

But if he could expand quickly (and even better, quietly), Mithridates would be hold a strong position in the Greek world. For none of the Diadochi themselves were beyond harm.

The Seleucids, although the largest of the Diadochi kingdoms and the strongest, found themselves beset by foes from every side. The Seleucids were ever in conflict with the other two major Successors: Demetrius, ruler of Greece and Macedon, and Ptolemy I Soter of Egypt. Seleucus also faced many perils within his own kindom. The Parthians were never content under foreign rule, and the province of Bactria continually tested his patience. Although he coveted Mithridates’ land, Seleucus could not presently afford another rebellious subject kingdom.

Ptolemy I of Egypt was likewise in conflict with Seleucus, and his eye was fixed on Mesopotamia, not Asia Minor. Mithridates had little to fear from Egypt for the time being. This left Demetrius, son of Antigonus of Macedon.

Although not one of the original Diadochi, Antigonus managed, with Demetrius his son, to conquer Greece, Macedon, Thrace, and part of Asia Minor, uniting under his throne the kingdoms of Cassander and Lysimachus. Antigonus died in this campaign, however, and Demetrius was left to build his throne. He emerged to forge the third great kingdom of the time.

But, as the others, Demetrius could not immediately afford an excursion deep into Asia Minor. He wished to build his relations with Seleucus, and a campaign so close to the heart of Seleucus’ empire was surely not the way to do this. Thus, for the time being, Mithridates was safe. But this was only as long as he himself was not a threat. Mithridates knew that, if the three great kings felt their own power threatened by the growing might of Pontus, they would not hesitate to grind him into the dust, together if need be. What Mithridates needed was to expand, yet to do so unnoticed. He could only reveal his true strength when he felt able to take on the might of Alexander’s generals.

Therefore, Timothsenes knew that Mithridates’ best option would be to quietly absorb Galatia into his kingdom, and a major war would certainly not accomplish those goals. Mithridates, then, must certainly have been considering how he might bring Timothsenes into his fold, and use that alliance to convince Galatia to unite with him quietly and peacefully.

And this, Timothsenes knew, would not be wholly bad for Galatia. Mithridates was perhaps expedient, but he was not a cruel man by nature; he would be fair, even generous, to those peoples who served him well. Galatians may even be set as equals to Pontus, at least while Mithridates needed their support.

But against this scheme were set two things: the Galatians’ love of freedom, and Timothsenes’ own bitter resentment of Mithridates after the sacking of his home and village. How could he serve a man who had wronged him so, even if it were for the betterment of his people?

Ariovistus Maximus

10-16-2009, 05:37

Chapter XXIII - The Race

Kyros finally caught sight of his brother. They ran to each other.

“Anything, Kyros?” Artans eyes pleaded, hoping that Kyros had, by some miracle, found their parents.

“Nothing,” murmured Kyros dejectedly. “And you, brother?”

“I killed one of the swine that did this unspeakable thing, but it has not returned our parents to us.”

“No. But you may have brought greater retribution on another village by your foolishness.”

Artan glared at Kyros. “You are nothing but an old woman! My father and mother have died, and you would let their killers go in peace? You cannot be my brother; my brother would be loyal to his family.”

With that, Artan walked away, fuming.

Kyros wanted to go after him but… there were other things to do. Or at least, that was what he told himself.

Bagacos, the Galatian general, knew somewhat of Kyros’ academic background and tasked Kyros with mapping out the area, as he sensed that they would do battle with Pontus soon. Having prepared the map, Kyros went to Bagacos’ tent.

Kyros presented Bagacos with the map. He then placed tokens on the map as symbols.

https://i953.photobucket.com/albums/ae15/Ariovistus_Maximus/Untitled.jpg

“Mithridates and his army is encamped somewhere near this river, sir,” Kyros said as he placed a purple marker to represent Pontus. “We are are north of him, here.” Kyros placed an orange marker on Galatia’s approximate position.

“Mithridates no doubt intends to march on Ankyra. If he can take that city, he will be able to assert control over nearly all Galatia. To do this, he must march West toward the city, and approach from either the Northern or Southern end of this lake. However, the route to the Northern end of the lake is very difficult to traverse with a large army, having large swamps and thick forests. Mithridates, therefore, will almost certainly follow the river to the southern end of the lake. From there, he could head straight to Ankyra, or he could possibly take the long route around in order to attack from behind where we would not expect him.”

Kyros drew lines to represent Mithridates’ likely routes to Ankyra.

“Excellent work, young man!” Bagacos was pleased. “We shall march straight to the fork of that river, and prepare ourselves for the great battle that lies ahead.”

Bagacos placed a marker at his army’s new destination. Then he thought for a moment.

“Nonetheless, Mithridates is a clever man. He had a purpose when he destroyed that village. It was as though he wanted us to come to him, and –“

Bagacos stopped.

“BY THE GODS!” Bagacos rose in a fury and ran outside.

“Assemble the troops! We march within the hour! Hurry men; the fate of Galatia marches with you!”

Kyros ran after Bagacos.

“Wh-what do you mean, sir? What is it?”

“Mithridates is gone. You showed me yourself. We are almost due north of his army. We have followed him in such haste that we have left him an open path down the river and into Ankyra! Nonetheless, we shall show him what stout men are made in Galatia. We will beat his ponderous army to the fork of the river!”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Mithridates smiled. “What rude, backward men are the Galatians. Their understanding of warfare ends at the fight; they know not how to march and maneuver. Come, Timothsenes. When you see the backs of your… ‘countrymen,’ perhaps you will see the wisdom in my proposal. Both Galatia and Pontus could benefit from this union which I am about to create.”

“I wonder, Mithridates, how you feel that you must kill and destroy to create this union, if it is indeed so profitable for both sides.”

Mithridates scowled. “The Galatians are fools; they would not agree to such a thing if I granted each man a satrapy!”

Timothsenes replied, “What you mean, is that they refuse to sell themselves into slavery?”

Mithridates waved his words aside. “Nonetheless, they shall submit. To me. My ancestors ruled them, and so shall I.”

Ariovistus Maximus

10-16-2009, 05:39

Hi all!

I get a 4-day weekend this week!!! Which means I get to write.

Expect an update tomorrow. :beam: I won't be able to post until the evening though.

Thanks for reading; hope you enjoy!

Ariovistus Maximus

10-17-2009, 02:21

Chapter XXIV - First Blood

https://i953.photobucket.com/albums/ae15/Ariovistus_Maximus/12.jpg

Captain Dienekes watched as his force approached the bridge. The Galatians were far behind, having been outwitted by King Mithridates. However, as commander of the vanguard of the army, it was his duty to make sure that not even a local band of brigands interfered with the crossing.

He eyed the forest suspiciously, but saw no movement. If any wandering band did happen across them, Dienekes was confident of his men’s ability. They were lightly armed troops, as they were a simple screening force, but he had seen them grow during months of training and a few minor engagements. He was proud to command them. He was also proud to be at such an important position in the marching order – proof of the King’s confidence in his abilities.

https://i953.photobucket.com/albums/ae15/Ariovistus_Maximus/14.jpg

In short order the men marched onto the bridge.

Dienekes noticed the dark sky; it would be time to prepare camp soon. The clearing behind those trees up ahead would be an ideal spot for our encampment – a perfect place to guard the bridge over night.

But as Dienekes watched his men, there were other eyes fixed upon them as well. The strongest, stoutest men of the Galatian army had done the impossible. They had beat the Pontic Army to the river. Now they watched from the trees, waiting eagerly for the reward for their hard work: revenge.

They had run most of the day, and marched even through the night. It was not a great distance, but the enemy had gained a significant head start. The Galatian warriors were exhausted, but all that went away as anticipation surged through their veins.

Now the waiting was over.

Dienekes heard a shout from the ranks. It took him only an instant to see the cause; what had been a tranquil grove was now a mass of men in the distance closing fast.

https://i953.photobucket.com/albums/ae15/Ariovistus_Maximus/22.jpg

At first, the men had no idea what to do. They milled about, waiting for some kind of instruction.

“Form up a line, men!” Dienekes began shouting orders to his men, almost frantically. It was obvious enough that the Galatians were not so dim-witted as he thought. Had they been waiting here all along? Had spies infiltrated the Pontic army?

But Dienekes had no time to ponder the origin of the enemy force before him; they were here, and that was trouble enough.

The Galatians had perfect timing; Dienekes’ men were just reaching the other side of the bridge; they could neither deploy on the Galatian side of the river, or fall back to a position on the other side. They were trapped.

With the Galatians at their heels, the Pontic troops ran back across the bridge.

Steeling himself for the inevitable, Dienekes rode into the swarm of wild-eyed warriors. His duty was to his men, and perhaps he could save a few by blocking the bridge with his cavalry.

Dienekes’ troop of horsemen fell quickly to the bloody ensemble of Galatian swords, spears, and axes. With a prayer to the gods on his lips and a Galatian spear in his chest, Dienekes toppled from his horse onto the stones below.

Even as he fell, Galatian horsemen galloped across the bridge toward the fleeing mass of men. They cut down many. Only those Pontic troops who fled at the beginning of the engagement survived.

War, as the saying goes, spares cowards, and consumes the brave.

https://i953.photobucket.com/albums/ae15/Ariovistus_Maximus/49.jpg

Ariovistus Maximus

10-17-2009, 02:27

And there's today's update! Things are about to get very... active.

It's really nice to have some more screenshots.

Sorry for the lack thereof, but there's really no way to have shots in the more story-oriented, dialogue-based parts of the story you know?

Anyways hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!

the man with no name

10-18-2009, 13:52

Nice updates man! Glad to see your back.

Ariovistus Maximus

10-18-2009, 14:24

Nice updates man! Glad to see your back.

Many thanks! Yeah, sorry about the pause there. For a while it was pretty tough to figure out where to go next. I have a plan, but it was making it fit together that was a challenge.

Glad to see the readers back too. :beam:

J.R.M

10-18-2009, 18:51

Ahh at last your back man, great updates and nice screenshots man. CYA

Ariovistus Maximus

10-18-2009, 19:33

Yeah thanks!

This is like the 4th chapter since I started back up so make sure you didn't miss anything. :beam:

Ariovistus Maximus

10-19-2009, 15:37

Chapter XVI – Weights in the Balance

As the Galatians scrambled Northeast to stop Mithridates’ push north, the Pontic army took the road due west.

What had appeared to be the king himself leading his troops north, was the king himself making a feint to the North in order to clear the way for his true intention of marching straight toward Ankyra.

He had, in fact only had his cavalry with him when he was spotted; the rest of the army was waiting for the Galatians’ move to stop the Pontic “advance” northward.

When Mithridates was sure that the Galatians were close to his position, he doubled back to join his army.

First, Bagacos received word that Mithridates had hastily retreated in fear of the approaching Galatian army. Bagacos thought this a perfect opportunity to pillage the Pontic supply train. It was not long before he discovered that the Pontic host had entirely disappeared. At first the men were proud of their “achievement.”

But Bagacos wondered. Where could they have gone so quickly? Once again he came to the startling realization that Mithridates had entirely outmaneuvered him.

Bagacos called an assembly of his captains, and soon the orders were given to double-time West toward Ankyra.

“Unbelievable; that man is unbelievable. He has outdistanced me at every step!” Bagacos was beyond frustrated, and he was intimidated by Mithridates’ obvious abilities on campaign. Nonetheless, Bagacos had the one real victory on his side; his men could do it again.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“But sir, our route is open; we can march through Ankyra in two days’ time!”

Mithridates paused for a moment, then replied, “Yes, captain. But Galatia will not be impressed by my maneuvers. They understand the march no better than that ‘general’ they have. No, what impresses them is blood. Only destruction will confirm me as their conqueror.”

“As you say,” Mithridates continued, “we have an open route into Ankyra. But we also have forced the enemy to rush toward Ankyra. It is only a matter of time before they see what I have done, and Bagacos, although unlearned in the finer points of warfare, is no complete fool. They will make straight for Ankyra, there is no doubt of that.

My position, and their own haste, gives me all the opportunity I need to deal them a crippling blow.”

Timothsenes, meanwhile, could hardly stand the intensity of this crucial moment. The fate Galatia, and, one could argue, the fate of Pontus, hinged upon the upcoming engagement.

Timothsenes, a seasoned commander and excellent tactician in his own right, considered the weights in the balance of battle.

Having lived among Galatians for many years, he knew the Galatians’ fighting spirit far better than did Mithridates. Mithridates, he thought, looked at Galatia as a land of mean little brigands and roving marauders.

And, although Mithridates had performed excellent maneuvers, this could only affect the battle itself in so many ways. Unlike Mithridates’ Hellenic adversaries, the Gauls had no formation and order of battle set in stone; this made them flexible. He could approach the army from the flank or from behind, but positioning meant little to the Gallic warrior.

The Gallic warrior’s goal in battle, is to kill things. Things in front of him, things beside him, things behind him. It would make no difference; wherever the Galatians saw the enemy, they would swarm upon them.

On the other side of the scale, the Pontics had training and experience on their side. Mithridates fielded a professional army with real battlefield experience. The Galatians were fierce, but the Pontics would show grim determination in their task as well. Also, the Galatians’ eagerness to kill may lead them into a trap; Mithridates had already demonstrated his uncanny ability in that area. Also, the Galatians understood Pontus no better than the Pontics understood them. No doubt those warriors who had not seen battle before would not understand how a phalanx should be dealt with. Even the experienced Galatians were accustomed to tribal warfare rather than the well-ordered Greek methods of fighting.

As to morale, this was a hard factor to discern. The Galatians had taken Pontus off-guard, true, but the Pontic troops had great confidence in Mithridates; confidence forged in battle against Seleucids, Macedonians, mountain tribes, and peoples throughout Northern Asia Minor. This confidence would not be shaken so easily.

The Galatians, although bolstered by their early victory, were now frustrated by constant marching. They must at least have some idea of the fact that their army had been outmaneuvered a number of times. This might cause their confidence to falter slightly. However, according to a Galatian, the real measure of a man is how he fights rather than how he marches. Thus, they probably were not impressed by Mithridates’ abilities.

Finally, Timothsenes had enough of consideration. Tomorrow, all would be made known.

the man with no name

10-21-2009, 03:44

They understand the march no better than that ‘general’ they have. No, what impresses them is blood.

Unlike Mithridates’ Hellenic adversaries, the Gauls had no formation and order of battle set in stone; this made them flexible. He could approach the army from the flank or from behind, but positioning meant little to the Gallic warrior.

The Gallic warrior’s goal in battle, is to kill things. Things in front of him, things beside him, things behind him. It would make no difference; wherever the Galatians saw the enemy, they would swarm upon them.
Good update but many stereotypes. Were these on perpose?

Ariovistus Maximus

10-21-2009, 14:46

Good update but many stereotypes. Were these on perpose?

In a way they are, although I didn't think of it in those terms exactly. Remember, this is Timothsenes thinking, not the author of the manuscript.

But yes it is fairly stereotypical, of the Galatians especially.

So if, what you mean is "Was that chapter a prophetic analysis?" No. It was a little teaser to get you thinking, maybe in certain ways. :mellow:

The other thing was that I'm not really able to go in-depth, due to time constraints and of course that this is fictional.

Thanks for that observation though! I like comments like that! :yes::yes::yes: Helps me to keep the quality up.

Also, I want to make sure that the next chapter is well done, so it might be a day or two.

Thanks for reading!

Ariovistus Maximus

10-25-2009, 05:37

Hey guys! Due to length, the battle is in 2 parts.

This was going to be part one of the great all-out battle. :beam:

However I realized just now that I forgot to edit the pics. :wall:

So I think what I'll do is post both parts tomorrow.

Thanks!

Ariovistus Maximus

10-27-2009, 01:21

I'm still not finished, and also I'm just not satisfied with it as it is. I'm not sure why; it just doesn't feel quite right. A little too dry, maybe.

At any rate, I'll try to get it out soon.

Ariovistus Maximus

10-27-2009, 05:20

Chapter XXVII - Confrontation

“A red sun rose this morning,” Bagacos began, speaking boldly. “An omen the blood which will have been spilt before the sun fades in the West. I will tell you now that it will be Pontic blood that fills the streams and rivers of our great land! Yes, some of you, here today, will die, and we shall all drink to their memory. But those that die will die in the knowledge that they have given life to many others!

Do not be mistaken; the enemy is large and he is hard; he will not break easily. Many have not realized this, and taken the fight for granted; the Phrygians, the Cappadocians, and the hill tribes of the Hay’k have done so. Their own pride ground them into the dust, and those that live now serve their Pontic masters in humiliation!

Let this be a lesson to you. And let no man here today be anxious to keep his life. The good soldier in battle must accept that his life is no longer his; it belongs to the gods. For what is a man’s life, when lived under the clouds of shame, and under a master’s whip? Nothing! We men know this; we Galatians have always lived in freedom, and there is no other way to live!

So, now, steel your sinews; prepare you hearts, and clear your minds. Let each man not shrink from his duty but put all forward, withholding nothing!

If you do this, I can tell you that we here today stand square with any nation on this earth! If you do this, the men of the nation of Pontus will stay here for all time – in the ground, under the dirt!

Follow me men; we go to war!”

The vast Galatian encampment fairly exploded as the confident troops cheered their leader. The men were ready; they had been ready for months. Anything would seem better to those men, natural warriors, than the endless marching and waiting. Now the waiting was over; they truly were going to war.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Only a few miles away, Timosthenes looked on as Mithridates watched his men form up into marching order.

A hush fell over the men as their revered commander began to speak.

“Now, men, there is little time for words. Nevertheless, to the brave a few words are as good as many.

Such good men as you need not words to spur them. I have watched you through many campaigns, and what I do know is that your deeds speak for themselves!

So let us now prepare ourselves. Let us speak for ourselves once more, not with vain rhetoric, but by strength of arms!

May each man do his duty. May the gods guide your eye, and let each arrow find its mark.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

https://img25.imageshack.us/img25/6438/112ua.jpg

Kyros looked out over the valley. He lived in this region for much of his life, and knew it well. Never had he imagined the battle that would take place on that ground in that very afternoon.

In a few hours, a snaking column of determined soldiers would march through the stands of trees in which he played often as a boy. How would it all end?

He could see his fellow soldiers taking their positions; the line seemed so long that it could stretch out to Athens. Kyros was truly impressed by the army Bagacos had put together.

https://img14.imageshack.us/img14/57/83109458.jpg

Kyros was part of a troop of short-swordsmen. They were light troops, trained to move quickly, pound the enemy suddenly, and withdraw as suddenly as they had come. They would probably be sent either to exploit the enemy flank, or to weaken the main Pontic line in preparation for the heavier infantry by hacking the enemy’s pikes apart.

He knew that Artan was in the army as well, although he didn’t know his position exactly. Artan was captain of the Nietos, some of the toughest troops in the army. This was truly a high honor, and well deserved.

The two brothers still had little to say to each other. This frustrated Kyros; they were brothers, after all, and the only two left in their family besides. Nonetheless, Kyros shoved it out of his mind as always; there was plenty of work at hand.

Finally, murmuring floated through the ranks that the enemy had been spotted. Soon captains began shouting orders. Kyros’ captain ordered them to march ahead.

“See the glints off in the distance men? That is your target!”

As the captain was giving out commands, a rider galloped up with orders from Bagacos.

“All right men, move out! Our orders are to engage the main line.”

The men quickly became uneasy. Most of the men were conscripts; the most skilled warriors fought in more heavily-armed units.

“Do not make yourselves uneasy. We must simply engage the enemy long enough to distract them and pin them in place. Have confidence in our leadership; he has the situation well in hand.”

https://img10.imageshack.us/img10/9918/37072730.jpg

At that, the men gathered themselves and moved quickly forward.

Having never experienced combat on such a scale, Kyros had not been sure what to expect. He certainly hadn’t thought that the most challenging part of the battle would be the uneasy march across the open field toward the enemy. Yet it seemed that every fiber in his being cried out to keep him from taking another step forward.

Soon they came within range of the Pontic archers. Kyros suddenly wished he knew less about the outside world. His studies on the quality of Scythian archery were of little comfort to him now.

https://img11.imageshack.us/img11/4499/76286227.jpg

Soon it came: the storm of arrows. The captain ordered his men to move at double speed; the sooner they crossed this dangerous ground, the better. The men moved with their shields overhead, hoping to deflect at least some of the missiles raining down upon them.

There was incessant clanking as arrows slammed into shields, armor, and flesh. Kyros grew sick as a thick cloud of arrows flew toward him. He slowed down and hunkered down behind his shield. He could hear as the sharp projectiles hit home. He heard groaning; looking up, he saw three men near him crumple over, dead. At each volley, a few more men would tumble to the ground. Kyros almost felt like a hunted animal, unable to fight back.

Nevertheless, he remembered Bagacos’ speech and charged on. After an eternity of running under constant bombardment, they reached the Pontic line. It was almost a relief to be out of danger.

A relief, at least, until Kyros saw the Pontic line.

https://img10.imageshack.us/img10/2516/93054171.jpg

The first line consisted of light troops; the Theureophoroi, Kyros recalled. Actually looking at the Pontic line for the first time, he could see the light troops in front, followed by the archers, and finally the line of pikes.

Kyros’ stomach turned sour; how was such an army to be countered? Suddenly Kyros heard an incredible thunder.

Looking behind him, he saw Galatian heavy cavalry charge forward. He was not alone after all! All the men seemed to take heart at this realization, and made ready to fight.

Then Kyros was slammed to the ground by an incredible force. First he thought he must be dead.

Killed already? The battle has barely begun…

Soon Kyros determined he must not be dead, so...

He cleared his head and tried to get up. He checked himself for injuries; not a single hole that he could see.

Then he realized: his shield was mangled from a Pontic javelin, launched by the Theureophoroi

“Come on, lad! You’re not hurt. They need us up there.”

Another soldier helped Kyros to his feet, and they ran into the fray.

https://img8.imageshack.us/img8/9241/39554463.jpg

Kyros charged in, swung his sword back, and swung with all his might into his target. The Pontic soldier flew to the ground. Kyros turned to the next man he saw and –

But suddenly he too tumbled to the ground. His first “kill” had pulled his legs out from under him. The Pontic’s sturdy linothorax had blunted Kyros’ blow; he had not even penetrated it. In a flash, Kyros remembered his training in Athens. Even a hardy slash with a sword would not cut through the leathery Greek armor.

Kyros wrestled the man to the ground. Although the linothorax had saved his life, he was probably suffering from broken ribs from the blow. Kyros soon gained the upper hand and finished the job.

Getting back to his knees, Kyros found his sword and delivered a crippling blow to another soldier’s knees. His legs bucked and he fell to the ground as he moaned with pain. Kyros winced as he heard the distinct *crack* of breaking bones.

Finally Kyros rose to his feet to find that the Theureophoroi were falling back. Chanting war cries, Galatian warriors ran amongst them and cut them down as they ran.

Kyros sank his blade into another victim as he ran by. Kyros was filled with euphoria at their early success in the battle, yet at the same time his stomach wrenched at the violence all around him.

https://img36.imageshack.us/img36/392/76312098.jpg

The archers also fell back. Mithridates no doubt wanted to preserve them for as long as possible.

Kyros was thrilled. What had been an unbreakable Pontic line had crumbled! Seeing heavy Galatian troops close in behind him, he knew that he had accomplished his task.

Surging with confidence, Kyros charged into the fleeing enemy with all his might.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

With a swing of his mighty broadsword, the Pontic spearman sank to the ground. Artan had made his third kill of the day. His men were charged with confidence, and were making good headway.

Artan’s men had been ordered to move far around the Pontic left flank. A separate battle was now raging between Artan’s men and the Pontic reserve, which guarded the Pontic flank.

https://img14.imageshack.us/img14/4633/54903787.jpg

Bagacos had ordered his heaviest troops into the Pontic screen, which Mithridates had not anticipated. Artan could see that his men were poised to break the Pontic left, which would enable them to crash into the rear of the main line.

Artan spotted a well-uniformed man in the mass of Pontic troops, yelling orders to his men. Artan marked him and moved steadily towards him.

At first the Pontic troops were surprised to see a Galatian in their midst, and did not react. Artan rushed into the Pontic captain, tackling him to the ground. Artan then fingered his dagger and plunged it through the captain’s throat, pinning him to the ground.

Artan was an experienced warrior, and he knew what to do next. Rising quickly, he bellowed a deep war cry and whirled his sword through the air, catching one of the enemy on the forehead and smashing him to the ground.

His wild antics had exactly the intended effect. “He’s a madman! They’re all madmen!”

He could see that the Pontics were thoroughly disturbed at the wild Galatian warriors all around them. A few of them started to edge backward. As Artan’s men caught on and smashed into the Pontics with renewed vigor, the Pontic line broke. They had seen enough of these Galatian warriors, who seemed possessed of an evil spirit in battle.

https://img25.imageshack.us/img25/2227/59103435.jpg

“Forward, men! See how nimbly the cowards run! Now move toward the main enemy line!”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Mithridates had to work quickly; his main line was hardly touched, but his men were under significant stress.

He began by pulling his Theurophoroi back. He had placed them in front in order to pitch a volley of javelins into the enemy as they charged in. This being accomplished, he pulled back along with the archers.

In the grove between his main body and his flanking force on the left, he could see that his cavalry were in a fierce fight with Galatian horsemen. However, with archery support, Mithridates had every confidence in success there.

Mithridates watched as his two frontal lines faded behind his row of phalangites. These men were his toughest troops, armed with a 20-foot pike, or sarissa. With the first five rows of men bracing their pikes outward, they presented an almost impenetrable hedge of spear points to the enemy. Mithridates was certain that the Galatians had not encountered this kind of fight before.

Waiting until the last possible moment, Mithridates ordered his men to level their sarissai. Galatians who had been chasing down fleeing Theurophoroi one moment ago found themselves skewered on this hedge of pikes.

https://img18.imageshack.us/img18/620/52662079.jpg

A messenger rode in.

“Sir, the flanking force has been engaged. They are heavily outnumbered, and isolated as they are, I don’t think they can hold much longer.”

“By the gods!” Mithridates had not realized that his men were under attack, and the fighting nearby had obscured the flanking force from vision.

Now, rather than using them to encircle the enemy, he would have to keep his own flank from caving in under the pressure.

Riding up close, however, Mithridates could see that there was no time to rectify the situation. Collapse was inevitable.

However, looking ahead, Mithridates sent his remaining cavalry in to buy his men some time. He could at least prevent them from being run down and slaughtered.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Kill them all! They have broken!”

Artan urged his men forward in hopes of keeping the fleeing Pontic troops out of the battle permanently.

Suddenly he saw Pontic cavalry smash into a cluster of Galatian troops nearby.

https://img195.imageshack.us/img195/9870/18461703.jpg

The collision was audible even over the other sounds of battle. Artan watched furiously as men were literally hoisted off the ground by Pontic lances as others were trampled under the horses’ hooves.

“Hold up! Hold up!” Artan cried to his men. “Forget those men; stop the enemy horsemen! Who is with me?”

Artan sprinted into the mass of Pontic cavalry and jumped up behind one rider. Artan yanked his neck savagely and felt the body go limp as the cavalryman’s neck shattered. Pitching him off the horse, Artan took his sword and swung at the nearest Pontic soldier.

https://img18.imageshack.us/img18/783/86953875.jpg

But Artan was not accustomed to mounted fighting. He lost his balance and slammed into the ground. He felt a paralyzing pain as the horse’s sharp hooves ground into his shoulder. As soon as he could, Artan rolled away and managed to get to his knees. He could hardly move his right arm at all; now he needed to find a way out.

He saw an opening. Running as quickly as he could, Artan moved away from the fight.

Stumbling away from the commotion of battle, Artan began to lose his bearing. His vision began to blur; soon he could see stars. Blackness closed in; he toppled to the ground with a jarring thud.

Blackness, more blackness…

the man with no name

11-04-2009, 02:51

Very good update Ariovistus but i have 1 question...

[CENTER]

Artan was part of a troop of short-swordsmen. They were light troops, trained to move quickly, pound the enemy suddenly, and withdraw as suddenly as they had come. They would probably be sent either to exploit the enemy flank, or to weaken the main Pontic line in preparation for the heavier infantry by hacking the enemy’s pikes apart.

He knew that Artan was in the army as well, although he didn’t know his position exactly. Artan was captain of the Nietos, some of the toughest troops in the army. This was truly a high honor, and well deserved. Do you mean Kyros was part of a unit of shortswordsmen?

But Artan was not accustomed to mounted fighting. He lost his balance and slammed into the ground. He felt a paralyzing pain as the horse’s sharp hooves ground into his shoulder. As soon as he could, Artan rolled away and managed to get to his knees. He could hardly move his right arm at all; now he needed to find a way out.

He saw an opening. Running as quickly as he could, Artan moved away from the fight.

Stumbling away from the commotion of battle, Artan began to lose his bearing. His vision began to blur; soon he could see stars. Blackness closed in; he toppled to the ground with a jarring thud.

Blackness, more blackness…

I have a bad feeling about this :)

Ariovistus Maximus

11-04-2009, 03:16

Do you mean Kyros was part of a unit of shortswordsmen?

Arggh, yes that's a typo. Thanks. :2thumbsup:

I have a bad feeling about this :)

:smug: :mellow: :leer: :evilgrin: :sneaky: :evil:

the man with no name

11-05-2009, 21:46

Arggh, yes that's a typo. Thanks. :2thumbsup:

:smug: :mellow: :leer: :evilgrin: :sneaky: :evil:

Your welcome. :laugh4:

Ariovistus Maximus

11-05-2009, 22:34

I can do this during the weekend. Update soon.

Ariovistus Maximus

11-07-2009, 23:38

Chapter XXVIII - The Day's End

Bagacos watched intently as the battle unfolded before his eyes.

Although his heavy troops on the Pontic left had been slowed by incoming cavalry, his men were making steady progress toward the enemy rear.

“If the center would but hold for a few minutes more! The day may be ours.”

Then he spied movement in the forest behind the Pontic line.

“Look there! Messenger! Find out the nature of that disturbance there. By Teutatis! What is this monstrosity?”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Kyros ducked just in time; a spear point snaked just over his head. With a grunt he severed the head from the shaft. Adroitly snatching the fallen spike, he rammed it into his third victim that day. He had expected combat to be different; this was no simple matter of jabbing people with swords and spears. He was constantly shoved this way and that in the mass of struggling men. Most of the time he found himself parrying one thrust after another as the enemy slashed at him and his comrades.

Kyros heard a terrific noise; a deep, rumbling sound. A clattering noise like he had never heard. Then he heard shouts above the din of battle.

“CHARIOTS! Those devils have chariots!”

The Galatians began running erratically, trying to escape the horrible spikes protruding from the great Pontic chariots. Kyros steeled himself; this was not time to take flight. He would stand his ground. In the back of his mind, he felt determined to show his brother that he was as much a man as any.

The noise came closer. Kyros looked over his shoulder just in time to see the blur of the chariot rush past him. He was sent flying through the air, and smashed into the ground.

For a moment he could not see; he tried to get up, but this was impossible as well. As his head began to clear, his breath was taken away by such pain as he had never felt before. One of the chariot spikes had crashed into his leg, cutting straight into the bone.

He gritted his teeth, trying to comprehend where he was and what had happened. His vision slowly melted away.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Artan, meanwhile was back up and moving about. He was strong and well-built; he recovered his wits quickly. He sat up for a few moments, and got up. He found himself a shield, which was not hard to find amongst the dead.

He wished desperately to find his father’s sword, but there was no time. He grabbed up a hand axe and headed toward the fighting.

He found his troops still struggling on. As he ran toward them, he saw that they had successfully caught the Pontics from behind! However, he could also see droves of men fleeing from the center. What could have broken them up so quickly? For a moment, his mind flashed to Artan. He quickly put that aside, setting his mind on the task at hand.

A man lunged toward him. Artan’s quick eye and strong arm worked as quickly as ever. He caught the man’s thrust with his shield and sent the Pontic’s sword flying out of his hand with a downward blow of his axe.

Swinging his axe back up, he knocked the man cold with the blunt end of his axe head. He pushed the unconscious form aside with his shield and moved on.

As he moved toward the large cluster of fighting men, he came from behind and buried his axe into some poor fool’s back.

Another man came toward him; he wore the fittings of a captain. Another one, Artan thought to himself smugly.

But truly, this captain had not come to his rank through connections, but through hard work and sweat. He was a strong, skilled fighter. Artan’s eyes fixed upon him. The knave had his father’s sword! He was a dead man now, for sure.

Artan threw his axe quickly at him. It sliced into the captain’s shield, splintering it from top to bottom. The Pontic threw his shield aside.

The captain rushed toward Artan as he picked up a spear, closing the distance and leaving no room to maneuver. He beat on Artan with his sword, but Artan shoved him off and sent him whirling with a blow from his shield.

The captain rolled quickly as Artan plunged his spear just past his waist. He savagely kicked Artan’s leg, bringing him down to the ground. Now the two wrestled, each trying to get above the other.

Artan slammed his fist into the captain’s jaw, then drew his hunting knife. The captain acted quickly, trying to block Artan’s swipe. He succeeded only in directing the knife into his shoulder rather into his heart. The captain growled in pain.

With the captain now struggling to remove the knife from his shoulder, Artan grabbed a rock from the ground and was finally ready to end the fight. The captain looked up with an expression of hatred and disdain.

Artan smashed the stone into his enemy’s head. But it was not finished, he readied himself to strike again.

But before he could finish, he was bowled over by Mithridates’ cavalry, which hammered into the Galatian troops from behind. Artan was sent rolling several feet.

Getting up, he realized that he had failed to notice what was going on around him. They were surrounded by phalangites and horsemen now.

Artan cursed the day that the first horse had been brought onto the battlefield, and thought to himself that he would never ride one of the horrid creatures again.

Artan spotted his father’s sword. I may die, but at least I may die with my family’s sacred heritage in my own two hands. He crawled quickly to the sword and grasped it firmly in his hands.

But that was as far as he got. His hand was pinned as one of those devilish Pontics stomped it under foot.

Artan looked up, and realized that the fight was over. He was surrounded by Pontic troops, and now they apparently expected his surrender.

Artan hated the notion of surrender. Instead, he elected to bite his would-be captor’s leg.

Howling with pain and anger, the soldier flinched back. Artan suddenly beheld the soldier’s other foot, as it flew directly into his nose.

“BY THE GODS! These savages don’t know when they’re beaten! Stubborn swine!

The fight is over, you fool. Your countrymen run like whipped curs from the field. But you; you have some spirit. Perhaps you would amuse the King.

Tie him up, and by Nike don’t let his head near your legs!”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Kyros awoke to see a face hovering above him; a Pontic face.

“This one’s no good. His leg is badly damaged. We’ll just have to…”

Kyros sat up, grimaced through the pain, and spat on the ground.

“Kill me and be cursed!” Kyros spoke in the Pontic tongue.

The soldiers looked at him in surprise.

“A Galatian who knows our language! He may be worthwhile after all. Call a litter here immediately.

You, my boy, are now property of Mithridates the Great.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Bagacos felt sick. The enemy cavalry had snatched victory from out of his very fingertips!

“Let no man falter; this narrow loss will be repaid SEVENFOLD! Form up a line here, to keep those devils from running down our fleeing troops. Once all those left alive have returned, we shall repair to the hills and make plans for the future.

Such a vast land, with such great men, cannot be undone in one day. They have not seen the last of Galatian steel!

the man with no name

11-08-2009, 23:24

He found his troops still struggling on. As he ran toward them, he saw that they had successfully caught the Pontics from behind! However, he could also see droves of men fleeing from the center. What could have broken them up so quickly? For a moment, his mind flashed to Artan. He quickly put that aside, setting his mind on the task at hand.

That was one **** of an update! Although I think you confused Kyros and Artan again. Also, when are you going to return to John and the :wall: ottomans? I have a feeling that John is somehow gonna be related to Kyros and Artan.

Ariovistus Maximus

11-09-2009, 06:11

Ah, thanks for the comment! :2thumbsup:

I may well have mixed them up again; I'll check it out.

And... yes a Crusader update is coming. Not sure if it will be next or next after this current one. Prolly next though, since my favorite reader wishes it. :beam:

the man with no name

11-10-2009, 03:26

Ariovistus Maximus

11-10-2009, 06:25

Lol you're welcome, lone commentor.

Update soon!

Ariovistus Maximus

11-11-2009, 05:30

Chapter XXIX - Collapse

This chapter is dedicated in remembrance of Armistice Day, 1918, and to all the men
whose sacrifice preserved the world we inherit today.

Sweeping aside a poorly-timed strike, I ran my opponent through and watched as the enemy slowly faded back through the gate.

This had become almost a daily exercise for me, having fought in the city for months. I pray daily for the deliverance of my immortal soul; that I might be forgiven for considering the loss of life a commonplace event.

But, to return to the events of that day, we had received and blunted yet another Turkish attack on our old city. But in our minds, each of us knew that this would be the city’s final hour of independence.

Bombardments were now a perpetual affair; what few structures remained in the city turned to dust. Yet the extraordinary walls of the once-great city still stood, so that we still could present some challenge to the enemy.

However, the gaps were many; too many for us to block. Finally, we had seen enemy troops marshalling outside the walls for most of the day. It was obvious that they did not intend to accept disappointment today.

Everything that they could conjure up in their cruel imaginations, they did. Some of our men were dragged out during an attack. Their remains were later displayed for us outside the city walls. The Turks consistently interrupted the night with the blast of cannon, and there had even been a feast held just close enough to our walls that we could watch.

Finally, the enemy chose to attack during the night. Surely this would be the end.

Soon, the attack was rejoined. I saw, to my surprise, well-armored and confident soldiers. Now there was no doubt; Sultan Mehmed was finished with throwing old men and peasants at us. We would feel the fury of a true Muslim warrior.

And feel it we did. With a trumpet’s blast and a cry of “Allahu Akbar!” the enemy crashed into us.

They were met by only half-hearted defense, and our first line quickly fell behind the secondary. The ferocity of these Turks – finally entering the city after months of waiting – was astonishing.

And not only their valor, but their accoutrement, was devastating. These men wore scale metal armor, and were equipped with a variety of quality weapons, such as swords, axes, and halberds. There men knew how to use them.

The pit in my stomach deepened as I saw lighter troops flood through the gate after we had abandoned it. Truly we had seen no attack of such determination up to that point.

My mind flashed to Godwin; he was still very weak, and had not been able to stand with me since his injury weeks before. Strange, I think in retrospect, that I did not think of my family, my home, or even my God, but I thought of my brother in arms.

For, truth, that was our relationship. My father and mother I hold precious in my heart, remembering how, as a youth, they would comfort me in my childish distress. And I remember my brothers, how they made me strong.

Yet my parents comfort never saw me through the shadow of death, nor did brothers ever save my life in the moment of my weakness. But these things and more have I seen of my comrades, and especially of John. Oh, that I might relate the joys and sorrows that so many men bore with me in those times. But I am not able.

But instead let me impart the words of our former King, Henry the Fifth, in the trying day of the battle at Agincourt.

“He that shall live this day, and see my old age will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors, and say, ‘Tomorrow is Saint Crispian.’

And Crispan Crispian shall ne’er go by, from this day to the ending of the world, but we and it shall be remembered. We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother.”

And truth, a brother Godwin was to me; we had a bond between us unknown to all who are strangers to war. Yet I did see it until that very moment when that bond was near-severed.

But again I must return to the times as they were. Indeed, I must have had a similar lapse of thought during the fighting, as I was nearly cloven in two by a halberd. All my senses left me for quite some time.

I awoke to complete quiet; a sort of peace seemed to prevail upon the city. As I slowly rose up from under the bodies around me, I struggled to gain hold of myself, and sat up against a pile of rubble nearby. Then I saw, upon one of the few remaining structures nearby, the Sultan’s standard fluttering proudly in the wind.

Old Constantinople was taken.

Suddenly I was jolted by a soft voice nearby. Looking in the direction from which I discerned this sound, I saw a Turkish soldier crouching on the ground nearby, saying a prayer. My instincts told me instantly that my dagger was still in its sheath on my waist.

Then it came to me; this man was saying a prayer for one of his fallen brethren. My fingers relaxed from the dagger’s hilt, and I knew that the fight was over. I had no quarrel with this man, nor had I any cause to irreverence his time of grief.

I realized then that I had faced not monsters, but other men not unlike myself. They were not wicked fiends seeking to devour the whole of mankind, but men supporting a cause, as I was. Surely, there were fiends among them, as there are among us all, but I knew that this man before me was not.

I wanted only to avoid his notice. Presently he rose to his feet. To my horror, he walked straight up to me, apparently having noticed me as soon as I had begun to move again.

Grabbing me by the arms, he brought me gently to my feet. He first eyed my dagger, and then his steady gaze fixed upon mine. His expression, rich with human goodness that I shall never forget, told me that to him, it was finished. The work was done, and the day was over. He felt no necessity to do me injury.

With that simple gesture, he walked away.

I shall always remember the lesson that unnamed man, whom never I spoke to or met, had taught me.

But I had one last task in Constantinople: I had to find Godwin, whether it be to pay my final respects, or to bring him with me in my escape from the city.

Ariovistus Maximus

11-11-2009, 05:33

Excuse the triple-post, but I'd like to mention, as you probably know, that tomorrow is Armistice day. This marks the ending of World War One.

Thus, I thought it would be appropriate, in my own small way, to remember that day in this chapter.

Also, for those purists among you, I do realize that Henry V never made that speech; Shakespeare wrote it. However, I thought it really set the tone for the message I want to convey, for obvious reasons.

Thanks!

gamegeek2

11-12-2009, 01:11

Yeniçeri!

kekailoa

11-12-2009, 07:38

Good work, man.

Ariovistus Maximus

11-23-2009, 01:00

Chapter XXX - Escape

With Godwin’s arm wrapped around my neck, I dragged him through the little-used alleyways, struggling to reach the Northwest side of the city.

I had indeed found Godwin alive, and though not well, at least in the same state as before. The Turks had overtaken the infirmary, and I could see evidence that many had been executed, save those who were of considerable monetary value. It was indeed a surprise to me that they had considered Godwin of such worth. Landowner though he was, the Turks were looking for men of particularly high distinction, and this Godwin was not.

The infirmary was not guarded. No doubt the enemy saw no cause for this, and the Sultan wished to give his men some rest and leisure after their exertion. Aye, and the opportunity to plunder was also in their minds, I am sure.

I knew that there was nothing left to be done here. God had smiled upon Godwin and I, sparing our lives. We would make our way home, but first I determined that we should proceed perhaps to Greece, Hungary, or Italy and recuperate therein. Thence we would make the long journey home, fraught with peril though it may be.

Greece, I reasoned, must be Mehmed’s next target, being part of the old Byzantine Empire, so it would be madness to tarry long there. The Hungarians I did not trust, being a shifty and opportunistic people. In Italy, on the other hand, we might receive sanctuary from the Papacy or other of the Italian states, and there abide at our leisure.

The journey to Italy would be longer, but not impossible. We would make to the coast of the Adriatic and proceed to Italy by boat. I felt sure that we could accomplish this in a timely fashion.

But first I had to escape Constantinople. I was, ironically, aided in these efforts by the fact that the walls of the city were punched through here and there by cannon shot, which would facilitate our escape quite conveniently.

Over the process of some hours, Godwin and I stumbled through the city, taking regular rests wherever we might hide safely in rubble or an abandoned house. At about the halfway-point of our journey, I took stock of my provisions. From the makeshift infirmary in which Godwin had been held, I had procured a very little food; enough to sustain us for a day or two if we took sparingly. I had also brought a sword for each of us, some cloth for Godwin’s wound, a long rope scavenged from the ruins, and for myself, the ancient manuscript. It was a comfort to me in these dire times.

On our final leg of the journey, we were behooved to cross a major thoroughfare to reach the wall, our point of escape. Giving a generous period of rest (as we were to cover this distance quickly), we set out. Godwin had little to no energy left in him after a day of strenuous travel, so I was left to bear the weight.

I was struck with a sense of horror that permeated my entire being, as I heard the thump of feet and the clanking of metal. I was in the middle of the wide street, and would no doubt be discovered. Filled with anguish and despair, I sank to my knees.

Even if I were to leave Godwin lying here and run, I thought, I would still be seen.

But there my weary mind hit on an idea! Leave Godwin lying! Quickly I set Godwin, who was now unconscious, face-down on the ground, scrambled over a few feet, and flopped on the dirt as well. This was the only possibility of survival.

As the body of men marched closer, I heard them stop. Never in my life did I struggle so fiercely to force myself not to look. I knew that if I made the slightest movement, the game would be up. But this was hardly the end of my terrors.

The next thing I knew, I heard chattering from the Turks, and suddenly felt myself being lifted over the ground! Then I felt a strange weightlessness as I was tossed into a heap of rubble. Presently I felt Godwin’s mass fly into the rubble as well.

Apparently the Turks wished to clean the dead bodies from the streets. My hasty scheme had prevailed! God, in His wisdom, continually saw fit to let us live.

After waiting for some period of time (how long I know not), I took Godwin up and stumbled to the wall. From there, it was five minutes’ hard labor to heave Godwin over what was left of the wall, although thankfully the section which we had chosen for exit was only a few feet high.

We lay outside the wall until dark for fear of sentries on the walls, which would spot us easily if we made our escape during the day. But when the sun fell, we made for a stand of trees a good distance from the city.

My feelings upon departure of my home for the last few years were an indescribable mix of joy, confusion, hope, and a distinct feeling of being lost.

I had nearly forgotten that a real world existed outside Constantinople, having endured so long with no relation to anything but that old city. I felt as a man must feel when he steps onto a new uncharted land, or as one who makes a voyage to the moon.

Finally I reconciled to myself: I was going home!

Ariovistus Maximus

11-23-2009, 01:05

OK, now I know that crawling out of a wall isn't the most exciting event, but you have to know these things for the rest of John's story to make any sense.

Now, you may have guessed, and if not I will tell you, that a journey from Constantinople to London is no small feat, and this part of the story offers an INCREDIBLE potential for all kinds of excitement on the way there.

So, I will do my best to make the trip quite an exciting one. You will see. :sneaky:

Actually, this is quite an interesting part of both stories, as each one has made a very important transition. John is no longer a doomed soldier in a beseiged city, and Kyros and Artan are no longer free men of Galatia!

You could almost say that this marks the end of Part I of our story.

Hope you enjoy, and I'll try to get up at least one more update before Wednesday. :2thumbsup:

Also, being that this is kind of a halfway point in the story, I'd like to thank all my readers and all you awesome guys who've kept me going with your comments! :thumbsup2:

gamegeek2

11-23-2009, 02:08

:smash::smash::smash::smash::smash:

Ariovistus Maximus

11-29-2009, 05:15

Chapter XXXI - To Serve, or Not to Serve?

Kyros trembled as he knelt in the tent of King Mithridates himself. He could not get up, for the pain of his broken leg was simply too great.

The battle was completely over. The forces of Galatia had melted back into the countryside, and the Pontic army was camped nearby.

“My men tell me that you know our tongue,” Mithridates said to Kyros in Pontic. “Prove this, and you may spare your life by performing a service to my Kingdom.”

Kyros remained stubbornly silent, but pondered this option within.

“I have need of men with such skills,” Mithridates went on. “This is your opportunity to make a difference for your people. You may perform a great service to them, and to me, by playing a part in ending this conflict between our two nations.

None of my emissaries know the Galatian tongue. You shall be my diplomat to your countrymen.”

Mithridates spoke convincingly, but Kyros remained silent.

Finally, Mithridates’ patience expired.

“Bah! I have no use for a mute Galatian. Take this fool away.”

Mithridates watched with a glimmer in his eye as his guards took up Kyros and marched out of the tent. He would bring the young lad over yet.

As Kyros exited the tent, he could see a cluster of men surrounding a Galatian prisoner. He was about to be executed! Kyros felt he could not watch. But as he glanced over, he was petrified.

That soldier was Artan! Bending Artan down to the ground, the Pontic executioner’s blade shimmered in the sun as it rose above his head.

“WAIT! Stop! Let me speak with Mithridates!” Kyros yelled with all his might.

Mithridates stepped immediately outside his tent and motioned the executioner to pause. He smirked as he congratulated himself on his brilliant timing. He had staged the execution perfectly.

Kyros looked urgently over to Mithridates.

“I will do you this service, sire. But surely you see that a weak, crippled man such as myself needs protection. I wish for a man of my own people to accompany me. That man, there!”

Kyros pointed to Artan, who was quite shocked at this sudden turn of events.

Mithridates pretended to consider the offer for a moment, then motioned to Artan.

“Come here, Artan. Your brother needs help.”

The two brothers were amazed at this man. He seemed to know everything. Mithridates set his eyes on Kyros.

“You will serve me as diplomat to the Galatians. Your brother will be your bodyguard.

One… of your bodyguards,” Mithridates added. “These are my terms. What say you?”

“Kyros considered briefly, and nodded. “I will represent you for my people. Only spare Artan’s life.”

Ariovistus Maximus

11-29-2009, 05:17

Chapter XXXII - Collateral Damage

October the Twenty-Second, 1454

Though I wished heartily to continue the narrative of Kyros the Galatian, there was little time for such things at the present. Perhaps I could continue further once we reached the Aegean. At that time, however, we were but a day’s walk from Constantinople.

We had consumed our tiny reserve of food faster than I expected. It took us both a great deal of energy to get anywhere, what with Godwin’s injury and the fact that neither of us had fared well nutritionally or otherwise in the past year.

I expected the people to be friendly; no subject, or former subject, of the Byzantine Empire would see the onslaught of the Turks without no small measure of trepidation. It was, therefore, in this faith that I knocked on the first country home we stumbled across.

The door creaked open to reveal a shriveled old woman, who gasped at the sight of two mangled, weary-looking knights. She did, however, finally consent to our entry.

I was, in a way, surprised to see the effect of the siege upon the countryside. It had never occurred to me that they would also suffer. Logical a conclusion as it was, I had simply been too isolated in my own surroundings to notice.

But now that I was there in the flesh, the toll was immediately apparent. A small storage shack had been ransacked and burned to the ground. Freshly-dug dirt and a makeshift cross denoted the loss of a family member, perhaps a grandson whom the Turks had seen as potentially fit for service, and therefore executed.

Finally, I saw that the poor old woman had nothing to spare us; she had not enough to sustain herself. A large army must feed itself. The Turks had, no doubt, exhausted the land after years of foraging during the siege.

Nevertheless, it was good to sit, warm ourselves at the fire, and for at least a moment not to fear being spotted in the open.

We bid the old woman farewell, thanked her for her kindness, and were on our way again. I estimated that it could be weeks before we reached the coast. I did not, however, expect them to be eventful.

From thence we would make our way to Italy, and then to Rome. I knew not where we could go from there; only that England was our destination, and that we could collect ourselves in Rome before setting out again.

November the Thirtieth, 1454

Our journey, or at least the beginning of the journey, is nigh complete. Little of significance has occurred on the way, and I have not time to relate the details.

In the first week of the journey, we had a few near-meetings with Turkish troops, advanced scouts for the main body. Disaster was fortunately avoided, however, and we were soon out of their reach. The people we met on our way were quite obliging. They had first-hand experience with the horrors of such wars, and were very glad to be of assistance.

I do not expect such gracious reception on the road ahead, where the people grow soft, and take their advantages for granted. True, other regions experience war, but they are wars of the greedy and power-hungry, not wars of Righteousness.

Our travels ended in Croatia at the fortress of Ragusa. Godwin and I discussed the possibility of taking our respite there, and proceed to Rome after we had regained our strength. We were both in agreement, however, that Ragusa would be a primary target for the Turks, and neither of us wished to spend another day of our lives under siege.

In the city, we managed to sell off our armor and other accoutrements of war, save one sword and two Turkish daggers (which I had taken in Constantinople) for our protection. In exchange, we acquired some rough-but-suitable clothing, with some remaining funds. With these, we procured food and lodging.

At the docks in the suburbs of the fortress, we secured passage to Italy. We were to take passage on a small merchantman.

We will set sail within the week.

In the meantime, I shall once again be able to find comfort in the narrative of Galatia. Strange; I almost feel I know this Kyros and his brother, so often have I poured through their story.

I feel that there is such value and significance in the experiences of those who have gone on before us. Surely, if we can learn from our own experience, can we not benefit sevenfold from those of others? Aye, learn, and save ourselves the pain they endured to gain that experience, if we take it to heart.

Ariovistus Maximus

11-29-2009, 05:23

All right; things are progressing. Sorry about the mix-up. I actually forgot to post my chapter! :embarassed: We had family over for thanksgiving and all that. Ya know how it gets. :beam:

But now you get two in one. :2thumbsup:

So, I'd like to (again) thank all you great readers and commentors! Keeps me goin'. :yes:

Also, a teaser. You've probably noticed that my story is semi-historical. The siege of Constantinople really did happen in 1453, etc.

Well, the fact that the War of the Roses began in England in 1455, combined with the journal entries in the last chapter... :inquisitive:

Then, I'd like to explain something that might be confusing.

First, I'm not exactly sure how long the siege of Constantinople lasted throughout the story, but it's supposed to be two years since John wrote it.

Second, I haven't been consistent so far, in putting dates in John's part of the story. That is of some significance because it's supposed to read like a journal. So, know that I will pay closer attention to that.

Writing is a constant learning experience, and certainly my creative faculties are growing as time passes. :beam:

Thanks guys!

gamegeek2

11-30-2009, 02:56

Ariovistus Maximus

12-01-2009, 04:10

Chapter XXXIII - Assimiliation

Kyros spent three weeks in recovery before he was able to move about, with the aid of a stout walking stick.

Mithridates determined, therefore, that it was time for his initiation.

“Now, my lad,” he droned, “you shall follow me. Do not worry for your brother, he is well attended in the barracks. My men tell me that he is a vigorous fighter, and shall be a proper bodyguard for you.

… under the supervision of a few guards of my own, that is.”

Kyros struggled to keep pace with Mithridates as he sauntered through the palace. The Pontic host had retired to their capital, Sinope, where they would refit and prepare over the winter for the following season’s campaign.

“I am taking you to the assembly of the Council. It is imperative that you understand our government, society, and customs, if you are to represent us effectively.

First, you must know that I am absolute ruler. However, I see no reason that I should not keep a close body of representatives from each province at hand. This is not a compassionate act; it is a simple necessity.

It would be counter-productive to do otherwise; the people must feel that they have a voice.”

Kyros was in awed as he followed Mithridates through the maze of elegant suites and corridors that was the palace. He had seen great buildings in Athens, but never had he seen a grand palace, much less had the opportunity to frequent the interior.

The Pontic King’s palace was very grand indeed. Shining marble pillars, decorated with scenes of the region’s history, supported the massive structure. A vast network of torches and candles lit the interior both by night and day.

The tall rooms made Kyros feel very small. Great statues and other sculptures of stone, marble, and even gold, dominated the passing scene. Finally, the grandeur of the imposing structure was rounded off by vast collections of exotic vegetation, which Kyros thought would rival the beauty of the Hanging Gardens itself.

In his detached wonderment, Kyros nearly collided with the King, who had paused, apparently to say something of significance.

“By Zeus! I hope you are not always so clumsy. Few things frustrate me greater than clumsy servants.

Although, of course, you are a cripple, I suppose,” Mithridates said flatly. “And, too, this is your first visit to my palace. Nevertheless, I wish my representatives to be capable men, and not given to carelessness.

I asked you a question. Were you not paying attention?”

Kyros began to stutter an apology.

“Bah, no matter,” mumbled Mithridates.

“Now, where did you learn to speak the tongue of my people?”

“In Athens, sire,” Kyros responded.

“Athens? You, a Galatian, trained in Athens? Well, stranger things have happened before, I suppose,” Mithridates spoke haughtily.

“Indeed, a most impressive claim. And how exactly did you partake of training in Athens?”

“My father sent me, sire.” Kyros suddenly realized that he was in fact speaking to the man who had probably ordered his father’s death. Time had flown by him so quickly, he had thought little of even the recent past.

Fighting back the anger welling up inside him, Kyros stopped for a moment, then continued. “My father sent me, sire. He was a captain of Antiochus. He settled in Galatia, but wished his eldest son to be raised a Greek.”

Mithridates stopped again, and looked intently at Kyros. “What was that? A captain of Antiochus, was he?”

Mithridates looked Kyros over carefully. Indeed, he bears a resemblance to Timosthenes. I had not realized.

Well, there is great potential in this situation. I have only to exploit it.

“You are the son of Timosthenes?”

Kyros looked surprised. He could no longer contain his anger.

“Ah, you are. The language not spoken with words tells me all. You feel tremendous hatred, yet you conceal it. Why?”

Kyros remained silent, and stared as hard as he could into the floor. He found himself unable to speak to the man who had killed his father.

“You have conviction, young Kyros. This is a good thing, so long as it is tempered with prudence.

No doubt he believes his father to be dead, having no knowledge of his capture.

Most interesting. Well, I shall have something to show you after the meeting.”

Kyros grimaced. Does the king now wish to show me my father’s body. Has he no shame?

Mithridates searched Kyros’ eyes. No, I shall want him to have his mind on the council, not on his hatred of me. Or, even better, I might set his mind upon gratitude.

“No, that will not do,” Mithridates huffed with a smirk. “You will see it now, in this very hour.

Come, young man, and your eyes will be opened.”

Ariovistus Maximus

12-01-2009, 04:12

Hey guys! I've been considering a problem recently, and I think my readers need a little more information.

Now, I have been thinking lately that my AAR may suffer a bit from a rather confusing plot line in the beginning.It has a dual plot line, which makes for a rather confusing first page. You don't usually expect to read about Crusaders in a "Galatian" AAR. Although I have long planned the fusion of these two stories, it is only now coming together, and that might be a bit confusing to those of you who can't read my mind.

So now, I shall explain, and hopefully you will gain a greater understanding of the thrust of this story, which I hope will in turn enhance your enjoyment.

Whien I read a story, it is important to me that it feels realistic. And, when I write, I want you, the reader, to feel like this really could have happened. When you read the account of Kyros, I want you to feel like you are in the museum reading something that really happened.

But, if that is the goal, it doesn't make any sense just to pop up with a story about Pontus. I mean, who finds an ancient manuscript detailing the history of Pontus in their back yard?

So I felt that just starting with Pontus would be much too abrupt. Now, a Crusaders Diary; that isn't too far-fetched. A lot of medieval documents survive today. After all, they've gone through a lot less than an ancient Pontic diary.

Thus, the Crusader's story is actually a vehicle to present the history of Pontus. It gives the Pontic story greater depth, context, and authenticity.

But that still doesn't explain the "Galatian" part. This shouldn't be as foreign as the coexistence of Crusaders and Pontics, so I'll be brief.

My other goal in writing is to be unique. I don't want another cut-and-dried account of a RTW campaign. The way I figure, if you want that, you can play it yourself.

But a story about a Galatian; that is something new. And how I weave the stories together, you will see as you read on.

Now, one lesson I have learned here is that I need to explain these things by degrees. Well, I shall add it to the vast list of other refinements I hope to make to my technique.

I hope that this opens your eyes a little. I will also put something like this in the beginning, in order to give new readers a little less of a shock. Thanks guys!

Now, I have a couple questions for you.

1. Did you find the story hard to get into due to the Crusader-Galatian plot duality?

2. Do you think that this little explanation would have helped you get into the story better, or that it will help you to understand the upcoming story better?

3. Is it too much of a spoiler for readers who are just beginning?

Oh, and don't miss chapter 33. :beam:

gamegeek2

12-08-2009, 03:43

The plot duality is fine. You're doing great - keep doing what you're doing.

the man with no name

12-09-2009, 02:00

1. Did you find the story hard to get into due to the Crusader-Galatian plot duality?

2. Do you think that this little explanation would have helped you get into the story better, or that it will help you to understand the upcoming story better?

3. Is it too much of a spoiler for readers who are just beginning?

1. I understood it right away.
2. The latter.
3. Probably.

Ariovistus Maximus

12-09-2009, 05:15

Thanks guys!

I just realized that I haven't updated yet this month. :embarassed: I'll get on it soon.

Finals week coming, and then 3 weeks off before next semester. :smash:

Ariovistus Maximus

12-27-2009, 05:49

Ah, I have been such a bad boy. Still haven't updated this week. But wait no longer, here comes the update!

Ariovistus Maximus

12-27-2009, 05:49

Chapter XXXIV - Revelation

Kyros was nearly overwhelmed by the pervasive stench as the King led him lower and lower into the prison quarter of the palace complex. He was writhing in anger, yet felt powerless. What could he do against such power? He, a cripple. Whatever form his revenge might take, it must be complete. It would have no value if he and his brother did not live to enjoy it, after all.

Kyros struggled to keep up with the king; one could only go so fast with one leg and a walking stick. He felt lost in the labyrinth of tunnels. What is so urgent that the King would preempt the Council to show me?

After an eternity of walking, the King apparently reached his destination: a grimy old cell. Mithridates produced a key ring, selected a key, and shoved it through a rusty lock in the door. The lock clinked open, the door jiggled free, and Mithridates swung the door widely.

“Come and see,” he said, a look of pleasure and expectation on his face.

Strange; Kyros thought. His face always reveals a plot working in his mind.

Kyros struggled to adjust his senses to the dark, dank room. He could barely make out, slumped on the floor, the figure of a man. A hunched, shriveled old man, who had spent a few days too many out of the sun. He got up, or attempted to, at least. After several tries, he managed to wobble to a stand.

But for all his cuts and bruises, there was no mistaking him.

“Father!” Kyros felt as if he had been transported to another dimension. How could it be?

He ran over to his father, catching him as he nearly toppled at the surprise of his son’s voice. He, too, had presumed his sons dead. Certainly he had never thought to expect them at the palace.

The two embraced; both too filled with emotion to speak. Kyros shot a glance over at Mithridates. The King had a look of satisfaction on his face befitting a philosopher who had just won an argument, or a predator that had cornered its prey. His plan was, again, a resounding success.

“I trust I have your services, young Kyros. And your loyalty, what of that?”

Kyros considered for a moment, still clutching his father.

“You have my services, my lord.”

Mithridates smiled his crafty smile and stroked his chin.

“That’s good. That’s very good. I dislike men who give their loyalty on a whim, or from a moment’s gratitude. They are all too easily persuaded in every direction. Now, young man, you shall follow me to the Assembly, and we shall see about your father’s accommodations.”

A snap of the King’s finger brought a jailer directly. Moments passed, and Kyros found himself following the King back to the Palace, and his father being assisted elsewhere. He still had no idea what to think. Every few moments he glanced around expectedly to find his mother; surely she must be in this dream as well. But it was not to be. Insidious

The young man, filled with new life and vigor, but still an underlying reluctance in his new position at his conqueror’s side, made his way to the Council meeting. A good day was ahead.

Ariovistus Maximus

12-29-2009, 04:55

Chapter XXXV - The Council

The grandeur of the spacious Council Hall overwhelmed Kyros. Topped by a gilded dome, the room reminded him of the amphitheatres of Athens. Several oval-shaped tiers of seating, enough to accommodate several hundred, were centered upon a large platform. Mithridates strode to the lectern on the platform and prepared to address the assembly.

Kyros was most interested to find how this conference would proceed. Would it be a meeting of the foremost statesmen of the land, each a representative of his native province? Or would it simply be a gathering of servants, to make their report to the King and receive his commands for the coming season?

Would Mithridates espouse the great governmental philosophies of the day, or would he cling to his despotic Persian roots?

Finally, the King began to speak. “Greetings, honored representatives! The gods have seen fit to grant us a fruitful season. So fruitful that I think soon we shall not need their favors any longer!

In but a few years’ time, I have forged out of these chaotic times a Kingdom; one that our neighbors cannot afford to ignore.

I bring other news: the conquest of Galatia is complete! Our enemy, having been thoroughly discomfited in battle, leaves us the masters of that land.”

Kyros felt intensely uncomfortable as he felt the whole room’s gaze fall upon him. They all seemed to scan him; their inspection paused at the observation of his missing leg. But it passed as Mithridates moved on to other topics.

“As I said, our rise to power in this region have made us a force to be reckoned with. This is a mixed blessing. True, it shows that we have achieved what was thought to be impossible; but the road does not end there.

Our power is such that it only attracts the jealousy of those under us, and the apprehension of those that are greater. If we stop to rest and congratulate ourselves, we will be overtaken by the mighty, and undone by confederations of the weak. This is no time to rest. I will not rest until even confederations of the mighty bow before me!”

Mithridates paused for the Council’s applause before moving on.

I have prepared for this body something very special. Something that, I believe, will open your eyes.”

At Mithridates’ gesture, a group of servants worked a lever to unfurl a great woven map hung from the ceiling, large enough for all to see.

SEE NOTATION AT BOTTOM
https://i953.photobucket.com/albums/ae15/Ariovistus_Maximus/FixedMap.jpg

The map will be labeled soon, but unfortunately the computer I am on does not have the requisite software.

Purple = Pontus
Grey = Seleucids
Orange = Egypt
Turqoise = Pergamum

The rest aren't important right now. I will fix it up like a proper map soon.

“This, councilors, is the current state of my dominion, after the completion of the Galatian campaign. It will, I hope, embody for you the words I have just now spoken. We have achieved much, but greatness is yet to be grasped.

“Now, I will hear the wisdom of this body.” Mithridates motioned to one of the men in the first row. An elderly Greek rose from his seat.

“The people of Phrygia praise you, my lord,” he began. “They celebrate daily as news of success abroad reaches their ears.

The region flourishes. Phrygia has been known as the Kingdom’s breadbasket, and we confirm this reputation once again this season. New structures and innovations spring up everywhere.

Our produce grows fatter by the day, and we are pleased to report continued expansion and innovation in agricultural methods. By this we hope to continue to provide a steady stream of food to the rest of the Kingdom.

There is but one request that I bring here today; the people grow concerned at our small garrison in our capitol: a mere 3,000 men. Being as we are on the frontier, bordering Pergamum and Lydia, I would request that additional troops be sent.”

The elderly man nodded to the King and sat down.

Next, a man with distinctly Eastern features addressed the room.

“Cappadocia also feels the growth and prosperity of the whole nation. Drawing from the resources flowing in from the rest of the land, we are expanding our recruiting base. The city of Mylitene, the core of the Kingdom’s army, is even now in the process of enlarging the barracks there. We are also fortunate to have received skilled men of war from both Greece and Persia, who will train our new recruits in various methods of combat. Our prosperity also draws the attention of armorers and metalworkers into the area.

As long as supplies flow in, my lord, men and equipment will go out to protect the Kingdom’s ever-growing borders.”

This continued for some time. One by one, the representatives of each province accounted their progress to King Mithridates.

Kyros was partly disappointed at Mithridates’ complete control over the process, but was also impressed by its efficiency. The system seemed to be modeled upon the Persian Satrapy, with each governor possessing some degree of autonomy. This great assembly, however, vastly improved the institution’s efficiency.

The hours passed, and finally the assembly was adjourned. Kyros’ next question, he thought as the delegates milled out of the room, was to his own role in this machine of state. Did Mithridates really intend to make him the representative of Galatia?

Kyros felt overrun with confusion; so much had happened all at once. What, he wondered, had become of Artan? Did he know that his father was alive?

gamegeek2

12-29-2009, 07:23

Lovin' it.

Ariovistus Maximus

12-30-2009, 15:14

Chapter XXXVI - Reunion

Whop. Another unfortunate recruit whirled wildly from his blow, tripped, and planted his face in the sand of the arena.

Artan’s cudgel made contact with yet another opponent’s helmet. This was followed up by a cut to the knees, which sent the poor man flying through the air. Artan would have beat him senseless if not for the fresh guards who charged him from the rear.

Pivoting to face them, he whaled one with a swinging blow. He recovered from the attack just in time to block a swing from his assailant. The two were locked in each other’s grip. Artan toppled him with a devastating head butt.

Artan was thoroughly enjoying himself; he had already damaged three helmets beyond repair, split a shield, and put a noticeable dent in two breastplates. His Pontic trainer – the fifth one that day, as the others were indefinitely confined to bed rest – was astonished at this man’s ferocity.

The Captain of the Guard had decided to test this Galatian, to ensure his fitness to serve as his brother’s bodyguard. Trials had begun with calisthenics, in which Artan left everyone breathless. They moved on to unarmed combat, which had been the undoing of three instructors.

Finally, they brought Artan into the city arena, gave him a stout wooden cudgel, placed heavily armed guards at all exits, and brought in recruit after recruit. The fourth trainer had unwisely chosen to join in the first wave. Now, at intervals of three, troops from the local barracks were brought in, equipped with customary armor and a cudgel of their own, and sent them in. Artan was up to 35, with only a few scratches to himself.

“Apparently,” trainer number five remarked, “we have left this monster unoccupied for too long. He certainly is making up for the boredom of these last few weeks.”

Smack!

OOWWFGAAAGH! By the gods he’s a madman! Ruu-

Whomp.

The instructor winced. The officers around him nodded, a nervous look on each face.

“Any fatalities yet?”

“No sir, but we have a few pulled muscles, one man with some broken ribs, and some arm injuries. Oh, and one dislocated hip.”

“Perhaps we should give him a thinner stick,” another added. “He may presently get the idea to test the guards at the exits.”

“Yes, that will do for now, I think. Let us finish with trials for today. The bearers are getting behind and bodies are beginning to accumulate. Now, how do we get the club from him? Any suggestions?”

Finally, after a rather intense scene involving archers and a contingent of cavalry from the palace stables, Artan was persuaded to relinquish his weapon.

“Be sure to cut some grooves into it next time,” one of the assistants whispered to the trainer as Artan was led into his confinement area.

After a nutritious meal, a hesitant steward informed him that the King desired his presence.

Artan’s cadre of guards escorted him to a bright room on the upper level. He found Kyros standing before him. Artan remained silent.

“Have you nothing to say to your brother, Artan?” Kyros wondered with a pleading look in his eyes.

Still Artan remained silent.

“Then perhaps,” Mithridates’ voice boomed from behind, “you will speak with another.”

Artan turned to see… his father! He glanced at Kyros, as if to confirm that he was seeing clearly. Next he found himself in Timosthenes’ strong embrace.

With that, Mithridates left the room to leave the three men to themselves.

Timosthenes, Kyros, and Artan each sat down and hurriedly explained how each of them had come to be there. Finally, Artan glanced over to Kyros and spoke up.

“You know, father, your efforts in my brother’s education have paid off. He is already being groomed as one of Mithridates’ underlings.”

Timosthenes seemed taken aback, and looked at them both sternly.

“There is nothing to be gained here by obstinacy. We will do what we can to help our people, and that means that we must cooperate with the King for the time being.”

Artan grunted. “I am surprised to hear this from you, father. What have they been doing to you in that cell?”

“I feel for our people also, Artan.” Timosthenes continued, “But brash, unrestrained courage is futile here. Remember what I taught you, my son. A strong arm is only as good as the mind that guides it.”

Kyros joined in. “I would not be so hasty, brother. If not for my intercession, you would be dead right now. I managed to convince the King to fit you out as my bodyguard, you know.”

Artan slammed his fist on the table and stood. “Then I would just as soon be dead.” With that, he motioned the jailer to take him back to his quarters.

Timosthenes shook his head. “An unwise move, Kyros. You should know your brother better by now. A quick mind is an admirable tool, but it too requires restraint. This is not a class on rhetoric; a victory in this argument will gain you nothing.”

Kyros nodded reluctantly, and the two made their way to their respective rooms.

Ariovistus Maximus

12-31-2009, 23:11

Chapter XXXVII - Death over Again

I rubbed my eyes, trying to awaken at least enough to determine our progress. I could see the Italian coast on the horizon; truly a beautiful sight. I was in awe that I would leave Constantinople behind. So long had it been apart of my daily routine that I had begun to accept my fate in its walls as a fact of life.

But now, to realize that I might live! It was inspiring! I felt truly alive for the first time in years.

After landing in Venice, I put up Godwin in a monestary where he could rest and regain his strength, and went thence to see the Archbishop of Venice. I was sure that our testimony would be of value, seeing as we were one of the few to survive the seige.

I made straight to the city Cathedral. After shoving my way through a crowd tormenting two poor souls in the stocks, I managed to speak with one of the Bishop's men to grant an interview.

"A survivor of Constantinople, eh?" Said the man with a hint of suspicion in his voice. "Yes, we have received a few already."

I was surprised at this, and inquired as to their names, hoping that I might know some of them.

"I do not recall their names. But you might have recognized them as you walked through the square," the man said as he gestured nonchalantly to the crowd at the stocks.

At that moment, my heart sank. To narrowly escape death in Constantinople, trudge across the countryside, take a ship to report to Church authorities, and now be condemned a coward.

Suddenly I was slammed in-between two armed guards and dragged away. I protested, pleading with them to at least let me tell what had happened, but to no avail. I was dumped into a shoddy cell.

My soul nearly burst in anguish. HOW, God could you plunge me into such despair? I know not how many times I emplored the Lord to take pity on me, a wretch in prison. But in that cell I remained. At least I had not been given time to tell them about Godwin, nor had I told anyone at the monestary of our journey.

Remained, at least, until I was dragged out again to face the tender mercies of the mob. I was locked into the stocks beside the two I had seen earlier. I got a good look at them, too. They were not from Constantinople. I am a keen judge of men, and I could see that these men had not seen combat, much less lived in the hellish misery of Constantinople.

Their cheeks were plump and round. Their eyes lacked the deep-set, empty look of men who had not slept well in months. And certainly if they had fought in Constantinople, they would have died; for they were two of the plumpest, weakest "soldiers" I had ever seen. They had falsely proclaimed their survival, expecting to be hailed as heroes. I had come with no desire of my own, to report to the Church authorities what had happened.

Now the three of us were to be punished alike. Probably by branding, so that all men would know our cowardice. This would be like a living death. Neither Christian, Muslim, or Jew would bid us entrance to his house. Indeed, he would not have anything to do with one who was branded, except for abuse, which was acceptable and even encouraged.

For my part, I was finished. There remained no purpose to existence, except to bear the shame of others. I steadfastly determined that my last destination after being set free would be the nearest river I could find. I hoped that not even Godwin would ever hear of me again.

J.R.M

01-01-2010, 19:28

Ahhh. Im back at last, so is good to see this havent finished yet, great updates i see, keep´em coming. BTW Happy new year to all.

gamegeek2

01-01-2010, 20:24

:smash::smash::smash::smash::smash:

the man with no name

01-13-2010, 03:22

We're reaching a negative point in both parts of this AAR. No surprise at all, that it remains so good.:yes:

Ariovistus Maximus

01-16-2010, 04:15

Chapter XXXVIII – Branded

“Be it hereby proclaimed by his Worship the Archbishop of Venice, that three cowards, who forsook their God-given duty to defend His holy city of Constantinople, shall be branded forthwith, that all may know their cowardice. Let all men shun their company and treat them as the infidel, that by their earthly suffering they may be granted forgiveness after this life.

Francois of Gascony, Owen the Welshman, and John Kerrich: may God grant your spirit passage into Heaven by virtue of your bodily misery.”

I saw the Archbishop himself shuffle onto the scene. He made his way towards me. As he knelt to the ground to get a good look at me, I felt as if his eyes had pierced my very soul.

“You did not tell me that another man was to be punished today,” said the Archbishop to his nearby aide.

“Well, your worship,” the man responded awkwardly, “you instructed us to treat any other such men as we did these two.”

“Ah, so I did. Good work young man. Still, I wish to speak with them before the sentence is carried out.

Tell me, my son. Are you a servant of the church?”

“Yes, your worship.”

“Then how is it that you did not make the ultimate sacrifice in its service?”

“I was prepared for it, my lord. For many months I had looked forward to the peace of death. Yet I escaped it, for I was taken down during the battle. When I awoke, the struggle was over; I saw the Turkish standard flying from the Cathedral. Still…”

John caught himself. In his emotion, he almost mentioned that his desire to survive was grounded in the hope of saving Godwin.

The Archbishop rose slowly and shuffled over to an aide. After exchanging a few hushed sentences, the man of God motioned a guard to release John.

“I know not whether your words or true, or if you are merely a skilled liar,” the Bishop said as John arose. “But the captain there tells me that you have the look of one accustomed to war. I believe your case is worthy of taking a second look.”

Ariovistus Maximus

01-16-2010, 04:16

Thanks guys. :beam: This update is kinda short, but I will update tomorrow as well. The story comes to me in definite parts, so my chapters are almost like scenes in a movie. My ability to bring them together will, I trust, improve over time.

Also, the Crusader's story has been somewhat of a challenge lately; it happens periodically that I just hit a wall of sorts. However, it's just a matter of time before I work through it.

gamegeek2

01-17-2010, 05:38

Keep it going.

STuNTz2023

01-26-2010, 16:35

I haven't been on the forum in a while, and it was the first time seeing your AAR. Just read the whole thing, great work!

Ariovistus Maximus

01-27-2010, 17:01

Thanks.

I've been very disorganized lately, what with school and all. What I need to do is get a schedule going. I plan to update once a week, instead of updating whenever I feel lead.

I won't say when my next update will be, 'cuz the only thing I seem to do consistently is miss deadlines. :wall:

the man with no name

01-28-2010, 04:27

Glad to see an update. Though it may be short, it appears to be vital to the plot.

Ariovistus Maximus

03-01-2010, 15:28

Hey guys!

I have just returned to this site after... quite some time. I get HTTP 500 errors each time I try, so I thought the site must be down again. I got a subscription update today though, so I thought I'd follow that link instead.

So I'm back and I will post updates soon.

kpatterson14206

03-09-2010, 11:34

How did you manage to get the Audei into Galatia? Did you try a migration (really hard)? Or did you edit the files to start there (tell me please :D) ?

Ariovistus Maximus

03-09-2010, 18:05

Welcome to the org kpatterson. :beam:

The EB mod gives Ancyra to the Aedui. For my purposes this was unnecessary though. I mostly created the situation with custom battles.

Ariovistus Maximus

06-23-2010, 09:04

Oh my word I'm so bad! I've forgotten to update for like a century! Shame shame shame.

Well, let's just recap: things have been going quite slowly on the AAR front lately, but on top of that I rather carelessly forgot to post what I'd written here. So you'll at least get a few chapters all at once. So sorry about this folks. :( On a brighter note, I do believe I'm making a bit of a comeback, so don't despair for this AAR yet!

Ariovistus Maximus

06-23-2010, 09:05

Chapter XXXIX - Duel

I spent the night in a miserable little hole in the ground; it reminded me of the cell in which old Timosthenes lay in captivity. At least the Archbishop had some measure of faith in me; all was not lost. I felt that God must yet sustain me; I could not survive the past three years for nothing.

In the morning, they dragged me back into the Archbishop’s chamber. Here he had assembled a group of holy men in order to come to a verdict on my case. But still it seemed that they could not decide whether I was God’s servant or the devil’s. It seemed that nothing I said could convince them.

Finally, they called me forward.

“John Kerrich, it is beyond the threshold of man’s ability to divine the truth or deceit of your speech. Therefore, it is the determination of this assembly that you shall face trial by combat. God shall fight for the righteous; if your heart is pure and your devotion true, He will fight for you.”

With that I was dragged back out, but this time they took me to an armory. They weren’t wasting any time. Never mind that I had spent a few days and nights in prison, with little to no food, or that I had been in flight from the Turks for months before, or that I had suffered the misery of Constantinople years before that. Such ills meant nothing; I was to face a strong, well-toned warrior of the church regardless of my condition. Indeed, I truly would need God’s help to accomplish such a feat.

The warm mist of sleep drained away as the guards shook me awake. Today I would fight. They fitted me with weapons and armor earlier. I had at least had a day in-between of exercise and proper nourishment; that would count for something, I hoped.

Warrior that I am, I have never understood trial by combat. I have always been taught to hone my skills and trust my own instinct. If I failed in this, I would die; I learned to accept this simple truth in Constantinople. But here I was thrust into combat basically unprepared, so that God could fight for me. Whether by His hand or mine the work was done, I shall never know.

I was given a few moments to fit myself and to pray. Pray I did; with every fiber of my being I petitioned God to sprinkle me with whatever grace was left for me. Then I arose, grasped my sword and shield firmly in hand, and went out to meet my adversary.

The sun overwhelmed me as I stepped out into the light; it took me a little while to regain my composure. There were a few clergymen and a small crowd of passers-by assembled at the scene. Finally, I came before the Church’s panel of officials, and the ceremony began.

“John Kerrich, by order of his Grace the Archbishop of Venice, and in the name of Almighty God, you are to face the trial of combat. May God grant mercy to His true child. It is only fair, master Kerrich, that you know that the others who were tried with you have met their deaths on this very field. I pray that you were not party to their sin. Have you any final words?”

Fine words and pretty speeches would do nothing for me here. Instead I shook my head, and steeled myself for battle.

“In that case,” rumbled the cleric, “Let the fight begin!”

No sooner had I turned around than I saw my opponent charging straight for me. It was all I could do to dive out of his way and avoid being crushed before the fight even started. I waved my sword wildly as I tried to get up, hoping to hold the enemy back just long enough to get up. But this man would not be dissuaded; he came at me again and again.

I knew in an instant how an anvil must feel as it is battered by the hammer. The Church’s swordsman was relentless. After what seemed like an eternity of perpetual blows, I caught a blow square on my shield and shoved him off. I felt the old rage of battle – which I had happily not experienced for many months – seep back into my mind. I remembered Godwin; I struck a blow for him. I remembered those cursed Turks. I struck a blow against them. This single adversary became an effigy upon which to pour out many years of pent-up wrath, for oh-so-many things.

I managed to catch a good glimpse of my opponent. He was certainly a servant of the Church, as I had been. He was equipped, and seemed to have been trained, in the Templar style. Furthermore, he was no amateur. The Church had certainly seen fit to ensure that my survival would be the result of God’s hand.

We went on. I managed to hold my own; even I was surprised how my fighting instinct returned. I suppose that such force does not easily leave a person after years of nigh-perpetual combat and strain.

My instinct may have been intact, and my mind may have been fit, but my body was neither. I simply could not keep up sustained fighting. I had to do something. My mind journeyed back to the days at Constantinople; I had an idea.

As the Templar swung another mighty blow, I ducked. The blade whizzed over my head. Moving quickly, I side-stepped and struck a blow at his legs. Surprised, the soldier toppled to the ground. I moved back and caught my breath.

My adversary was certainly a veteran soldier, but he evidently had not fought in the Near East. The Arab soldier was nothing if not mobile; I remember how I had very nearly lost my life, early on in my first campaign, to such tactics. The Templar was visibly disgruntled by them as well.

Another memory flashed to mind: the Galatians! Those fierce warriors certainly knew how to intimidate the enemy. Perhaps, I thought, I might take a lesson from them as well. The enemy was surprised and confused; next it was time to intimidate.

Summoning all the energy I could, I whirled my sword over my head, and with voice booming I rushed like a madman at the foe. I heard a satisfying snap as the Templar’s wooden shield gave way to the force of my almost-superhuman cut. My enemy stumbled backward and crashed to the ground. When he got back up, I could see that fear had worked its way into his mind amongst the surprise and confusion. Clearly I was not behaving as any European soldier should; he had no idea how to counter this new fusion of fighting styles.

At that point, I knew that the day may yet be mine. Again I picked a Galatian tactic. Moving in with my left hand instead of my right, I pumped my shield into the Templar’s face. His head snapped back and he tripped backwards. Pivoting back in the other direction, I crashed my sword into his side. He very nearly flipped through the air on his way to the ground. To his credit as a soldier, his sword never left his hand. Now it was he who swung his sword blindly through the air. I still had to be careful; I had seen many a soldier die by the erratic thrusts of a dazed enemy. But I had also killed many dazed enemies myself.

I bashed the Templar down one final time by a swipe with my shield. In the fury of the moment, I yanked off my helmet and flung it into the dust. I was prepared for the final blow. It was then that I remembered my surroundings. I noticed that the Archbishop’s guards had tensed. It occurred to me that there were most likely a number of archers with bow drawn down upon me at that very moment. I noticed also that my opponent was unconscious; that would be good enough. Standing over him, I kicked him over to demonstrate that he was out of the fight. The thing was done.

My sword slipped from my hand; a cloud of dust flew into the sky. The red haze of battle cleared from my eyes, and I adjured God that it be cleared for the very last time. I had seen enough of war; I swore that I should live out my days in peace and harmony ever after my arrival home.

Ariovistus Maximus

06-23-2010, 09:06

Chapter XL - Horrors

“Traitor! TRAITOR!” The seemingly feeble old man’s eyes glared with a furious fire. “You are a dog; worse than a dog, for you betray your master and your own people! You lick the feet of the vile tyrant-King of Pontus! You have neither the honor nor the sense of the lowest hound in the streets.”

Kyros was speechless. His mind was overwhelmed by the severity of the elder’s accusation, and his spirit was sapped by the contemptuous stares of the villagers nearby. What could he say? He hardly knew what to think himself; through the most bizarre set of circumstances he had become Mithridates’ representative in Galatia.

How could he make these people understand? How could he explain to them that the old ways had been defeated; that only the adaptive would survive? What choice did he have but to obey and serve?

But the worst thing; the reality dragged his heart into a bottomless pit of despair, was the realization that the old man was right.

Passers-by began to gather at the sound of the old man’s shrill cry. Soon there was a crowd. It was a crowd that had seen its whole world crumble. A crowd that wanted revenge but had failed to overwhelm the Pontics with their rage. They saw this vile turncoat as a vessel for their wrath. They began to close in.

Kyros shot out of his cot like an arrow from a taut bowstring. Fairly flying through the air out of fright, he slammed into the wall of his quarters. Artan appeared only seconds later with sword drawn; he urgently checked the windowsill and corners of the room, but found no enemy. He saw only his brother writhing in pain; searing pain from his fall and an intense, burning pain in his mind.

Minutes later Kyros was still struggling to breath, lying in a pool of sweat, unsure which vision was reality and which was dream. Even Artan was shaken; he kept on his guard, afraid that some dark spirit had possessed his brother.

Finally Artan dared to approach Kyros. “What is wrong, brother? You look as if you have fought with the very beasts of the underworld.

Kyros clutched him with a desperate strength that Artan had never felt before. “I am a traitorous dog! The demons themselves would spurn my company. I serve those who have reduced my homeland to rubble. I report to a man who has slaughtered countless numbers of my countrymen. I aid the ones who murdered my own mother!”

Kyros’ eyes were white and glazed; his face was pale and almost yellow. He shook uncontrollably. Artan wanted desperately to help him. He was afraid that his brother might die, yet he had no idea what he could do. No words of comfort came to his tongue. He had no reassuring wisdom to give, like his father did. He could not put the matter to rest in his own mind; he had stayed awake much of the night for fear that his own doubts would haunt him in his sleep.

All at once Artan felt a compassion for his brother that he had not sensed for years. Kyros was not the stuffy, cynical academician he had believed; his brother was a thoughtful, feeling man with many of the insecurities that he also felt. Surely Kyros could not die now; he could not give up hope just when Artan had finally discovered the real person inside.

Artan could only hold his quivering brother and hope that once, just this once, the gods would see fit to grant him his wish.