Quantumf8
12-10-2007, 10:59
ForewardHello all! Let me begin by apologizng for not updating my previous AAR, the hounds of molossus, I just ..cant seem to get back into the swing of it. This one isn't really an AAR, it sort of is.. kinda. I just really enjoyed the jewish units of the Ptolemaioi, it inspired me to do thi, I'll try to update this one more. It should be noted though, that this may not be good quality. I'm experimenting with a style of narrative, so I apologize for whatever horrendous amount of pure suck may lie within. As before, criticism and replies are greatly appreciated and welcomed.
By the Grace of haEl, I am Redeemed
Hello, I greet you well! My name you ask? I am called Saul ben Hanan (son of Hanan) and like my namesake I am of the tribe of Benjamin. Yes, I do hail from Israel, or as the Greek-Men call it, Ioudaia. My story? Now that is a tale which I am happy to share, for indeed I have been far in my travels, from my homeland, to that of Alexandros himself! Now, where to begin…
I remember the start of it all clearly, almost as if it had occurred but a month ago. I was then a merchant in my small village, just outside Diospolis, the name of which would be trivial to recall. I had been debating with my neighbor over a recent shipment of goods I had received; he insisted I had overcharged him. Should you ever meet my neighbor, do not listen to him, 5 drachmae was indeed a fair price for such fine shoes! But this is not important to my tale. My town was a small one, yet it covered much land. No, I do not lie here; much of the land was farm or herd-lands with a small village in the center.
My village center was a tiny one, consisting of several different things. A bazaar where the locals would come to trade or buy goods, it was here my house lay, a two story building, tall and moderately furnished. Inside my home sat my possessions, logs, and goods. Further on one would leave the bazaar and enter the village square. Here one could find a temple to Yahweh and the residency of the Ptolemaioi governor. Yes, we were under the rule of the Egyptians again, it matters not whether the whip-master is Greek or not. It was during the end of the day, the beginning of the night, that a man came to us, and in a strong Greek accent and speaking Greek, he said to us “Iudaioi, the Basileus calls upon you, war breaks among the sons of Alexandros. You are called to fight for the honor of your Basileus and country. Take up your arms, and report to Jerusalem!” Obviously few among my town understood the Greek tongue, I however translated for them. You see, as a merchant I have learnt Persian and Greek to speak to those I sell to in large cities. Yet no matter which language I chose, it still bore the same ill meaning. The Greeks had gone to war.
As I conveyed the words of the Hellene, my neighbors, my friends, my self, prepared for this new war. So much had we struggled in the past, enslaved numerous times, set free countless others. By the will of my people, and by the grace of El, had we managed to survive, only to have our kingdom crushed by Cyrus and Alexandros. I remember that night clearly indeed; the rabbis encouraged us, and told us to remember our ways, to not let the Hellenes corrupt us. We prayed to HaShem to guide and watch over us as we fought. Finally, dawn came, and after little rest, we departed.
As we left, I glanced back at my home; I felt a pang of sorrow knowing that I would not see it for a long time. By the glory of El, if I had only known what was to come, surely I would have held myself that day. Breathing a deep sigh I turned my head ‘round and glanced ahead, seeing my comrades tightly filed marching along the dirt road. As we were Iudaioi we were allowed rights as citizens, as well as rights to our own culture, but only if we swore ourselves to the Basileus and joined the levies. Being a merchant I recognized when a deal was good and bad, a serpent in the garden, HaShem ha seen fit to bless me with this gift. The fault of this deal lay in that the Hellenes had invaded our home, and they forced their culture upon us, which many grew furious at. This Serpent’s bargain would allow my people the right to live as they would, but as slaves in name and way to a foreigner, something which I thought might inspire some to rebellion.
Putting these treasonous thoughts out of my mind I turned back to marching, we were now some cubits from the town, thank El it was not the Sabbath! The sun was beginning to rise in the sky and Diospolis was coming into sight. I had been there a few times, it was a Hellenistic city, and as such it was magnificent to us. The walls were made from sandstone and the buildings were made of stone and marble. Its great gates hung heavy-laden with brass, its temples beauteous works (though they were devoted to unworthy gods), and its markets large. Such grandeur was hard for us to grasp, many had never seen the city, though we lived only a few thousand cubits away. I had been fortunate to grace its market, spoken with Syrian traders selling sweet scented cedar, observed the Hellenic art, and seen the Steles erected in the name of the Basileus; I was still impressed.
When we had arrived at Diospolis, and when the wave of awe had left us, we found ourselves among the conscription center, surrounded by Syriakoi, or Syrians, Hellenes, and our fellow Israelites. Here a man rose up on a wooden block, a Hellene by his looks, and began to give instructions in Greek. Ammiel, My other neighbor who was not a greedy rat, ( oh blessed be HaShem, one should try to love one’s neighbors) asked me to translate. “The Greedy sons of Seleukos Nikator seek more land to call their own, they think themselves as invincible as Achilles, as mighty as Herakles, as if they were blessed by Ares himself!” Truthfully, I knew not of these strange men of whom the Hellene spoke, but the names appeared to incite strong feelings in the men around us. We assumed they were great men, like David, or Wise Solomon, and did our best to emulate the Hellenes’ feelings. “These foul men, traitors to the heirs of Megos Alexandros, attack their brethren in Syria. The Makedonians, true to the will of Alexandros, unite with us to defend true honor! The Basileus calls upon you! You foreign countrymen! You good Greeks! He calls for you to answer the call of your countrymen! To prove yourself worthy heirs of Alexandros and do battle with the foul sons of Seleukos!” with this the Hellene finished his fiery speech, and so too did many seem to have a fire burning within them. Yet as I translated the Hellenes’ tongue, it seemed that much of the passion was lost.
I remember that the Hellene that gave the impassioned speech now removed himself from the block, and began to divide up the people. The Hellenes it seemed were always a xenophobic people, and this was reflected in their levies, as the natives and foreigners were separated from the Hellenes. To each Hellene was given a large shield, a helmet, and a long spear, to each Syrian, a helmet, bow, quiver, to each Iudaioi however, was allotted a simple spear and a small shield. “In two days, shall you depart from here, and you should be ready to fight with the foul sons of Seleukos!” said the fiery Egyptian Hellene, a phrase which I believe I had forgotten to translate. Now keep it in your mind, that we were not fighters, but a rabble of farmers and craftsmen, many among us knew little of the world outside of our own village.
Given that the “great levies” were made of simple peasants, I found myself lost in thought as we walked from the center. I pondered why it should be so that simple men should be made to know the horror of war. I wondered what drove us men to listen to far-off rulers, was it out of our fear of punishment? Was it because we are taught to be good people by holy El? Or perhaps, perhaps it was because we had simply been told to be blindly loyal from birth. “No” I had told myself “we do this because we are good men, because we seek to defend our ways and what is ours.” If this was true, then why would we fight for a foreign king who did away with many of our ways?
Come the next day many of the younger men from my town were becoming anxious, they sought to see more of the marble-wrought town, with it’s magnificent trees and plants. I admit that I myself had a moment of weakness, where I had been tempted to give in to my wants, to thrust myself into the vigor of the city. Yes, I know that you must think me weak, but is it not said that a man needs more than his daily bread to live? The city was magnificent compared to our small home. The buildings were white and many had fine ivy growing up them to their clay roofs, while in our home the buildings were brown and no plant would dare touch it. The fountains were carved in the majesty of men, showing their nature in sharp detail, while we had but a simple hole to draw water from. The Hellenes had painted majestic frescoes on the streets, erected great steles telling of our deeds, and even had a bibliotheke where many scrolls were kept. Imagine it! A place where even common men may read great tales or holy texts, and to think, this was a small Hellenic town!
My moment of weakness disappeared as the elder among us reminded us of the rabbis’ words. “Take you care to remember your covenant with Yaweh, and do not be swayed by the gods unworthy of prayer. It was He who led our people from Egypt, He who made Israel the father of our nations. Do not challenge his authority and integrity, even Job, with whom He conversed with, was humbled by his might. You will see many fine things that might tempt you from his path, as a wolf might tempt a sheep. I urge you to remember that you are children of Israel, and not of the Hellenes.” Indeed these words struck me now and buried themselves within my heart; for I looked around me and saw indeed that the city was as a wolf waiting for me with baited teeth. Putting these thoughts from my mind, I returned to my place of slumber, and awaited the next day.
The day of our departure from this city came, and groggily I made myself awaken. Truthfully, I remember little of this day, or many following ones; however what I recall is mostly the walk. I remember it being long, winding through the dusty hills, the rocks jutting forth in gruesome, menacing shapes. Dotted like sheep upon a field were trees standing out in stark contrast against the jagged stone. The air, one would have little ease forgetting it, as the air was crisp and clean, at night its briskness would hit one with such force, one would be struck with awe. The skies themselves echoed full of past deeds done in this land. High above one could see the angels watching over us, to think that these heavenly things were conquered by Israel!
The company was also mixed, perhaps forming a greater clash than the environment. Rich and poor, Hellene and native all marched alongside one another, all bitter enemies by history’s right. I am not sure on which day this was, but I am sure of my recollection of lapsing into another moment of weakness. O, Adonai, forgive me! Thoughts had entered into my mind, thoughts of foul treason, of betraying my fellow men. These thoughts you asked? I wondered why I was here, why had I not simply refused to come? Surely such violent struggle was no place for one such as I, and surely I and my brothers would indeed have been better off had I stayed? Then, as if one of the heavenly bodies had overheard me, I recalled the story of Jacob and Esau. A story told to many boys by the elders in the temple, one that shows us a struggle between the houses of two brothers. I asked myself if, even though he was chosen by Yaweh, would Jacob have become Israel if had one man chosen to not fight? Still, I felt confused, my elders assured me that it was just fear, that I should be strong and not let such thoughts worry me. They assured me that HaShem would fill my heart with courage and confidence, that we would stand before our foe as David before his. Finally the day had come, by Elohim’s wishes, we were to fight.
The sun broke through the clouds at mid-day, casting strange pillars of light. No, strange is not the right word, they were glorious for they told us, in the resounding voice of haEl, that we would be in his care. I find myself now daring to think that it was perhaps too soon for many to fall in his care, though I shudder at the thought of denouncing Him. An eerie still added to the scene, when the generals had commanded us to fight. Men charged full of vigor and energy, as if lightning coursed through their veins. I stood with my brothers, unsure and afraid, the world seemed a torrent of chaos, strange projectiles flew around, large clattering noises occurred, sights began to blur. I remember that fateful day well, so much had terror rooted itself within me that I had seemed to lose control of myself and surroundings.
As I shut myself in off in my own blackness, the world continued to rage, it seemed as if such fury would tear asunder the earth. I would not realize until later, that this immense clash, this torrent of fury and violence, was nothing more than a small uneventful battle, yet I would still suffer a thousand years of servitude than be made to face such matters again. Yes, you might call me a coward, judging me on my inaction as my brothers fought and died. But I ask, to end do their deaths accomplish? Yes they had died for their Basileus, but how many truly admired him? How many would not have rather been home?
One must ask himself, why is it men are willing to do such things? Why is it men are willing to toss away their glorious gift of life, or to take that of another, for matters of a feud between two far-off rulers? Would men show the same devotion to a man of common birth, were he to be honest of his background? I do not betray my god here; instead I ask why men betray him, why men are so willing to allow such evil into their hearts for some affair of honor that does not matter to them? Now, after my travels, I think I may have such wisdom to understand this. Perhaps men are willing to go to such extremes for noble men and not common ones, is that they are the common man. The noble man is above; it is something to want, to strive for, to be. Perhaps the noble man is more of a concept to the common man, and the king embodies that concept. As such, the ruler might be seen as a sort of culture personified, and one would fight to defend just as readily as a brother. Surely, such just and perfect people are better decision makers than we are, or so we might wish to think.
Whether or not these concepts hold true, the result in unchangeable, as it is in my tale, for indeed many men fell day. I almost regret to tell this next part, as it is no tale of great heroism, nor is it one of great cunning. I had, in the next few moments of that battle, been calling for some form of guidance, some way to deliver me to safety; I was not yet ready to leave this land! With this in mind, I focused my conscious will and efforts into steeling myself, and then I felt it. The love of El graced me, my heart soared and I was filled with warmth, I heard songbirds call out. I opened my eyes to greet the songbirds, to hurl myself with such fury and might at my foe that he would be crushed! Oh by Yahweh’s watchful eyes, it is such an embarrassment that it was not a songbird calling, but indeed it was a blade which struck me along the head.
By the Grace of haEl, I am Redeemed
Hello, I greet you well! My name you ask? I am called Saul ben Hanan (son of Hanan) and like my namesake I am of the tribe of Benjamin. Yes, I do hail from Israel, or as the Greek-Men call it, Ioudaia. My story? Now that is a tale which I am happy to share, for indeed I have been far in my travels, from my homeland, to that of Alexandros himself! Now, where to begin…
I remember the start of it all clearly, almost as if it had occurred but a month ago. I was then a merchant in my small village, just outside Diospolis, the name of which would be trivial to recall. I had been debating with my neighbor over a recent shipment of goods I had received; he insisted I had overcharged him. Should you ever meet my neighbor, do not listen to him, 5 drachmae was indeed a fair price for such fine shoes! But this is not important to my tale. My town was a small one, yet it covered much land. No, I do not lie here; much of the land was farm or herd-lands with a small village in the center.
My village center was a tiny one, consisting of several different things. A bazaar where the locals would come to trade or buy goods, it was here my house lay, a two story building, tall and moderately furnished. Inside my home sat my possessions, logs, and goods. Further on one would leave the bazaar and enter the village square. Here one could find a temple to Yahweh and the residency of the Ptolemaioi governor. Yes, we were under the rule of the Egyptians again, it matters not whether the whip-master is Greek or not. It was during the end of the day, the beginning of the night, that a man came to us, and in a strong Greek accent and speaking Greek, he said to us “Iudaioi, the Basileus calls upon you, war breaks among the sons of Alexandros. You are called to fight for the honor of your Basileus and country. Take up your arms, and report to Jerusalem!” Obviously few among my town understood the Greek tongue, I however translated for them. You see, as a merchant I have learnt Persian and Greek to speak to those I sell to in large cities. Yet no matter which language I chose, it still bore the same ill meaning. The Greeks had gone to war.
As I conveyed the words of the Hellene, my neighbors, my friends, my self, prepared for this new war. So much had we struggled in the past, enslaved numerous times, set free countless others. By the will of my people, and by the grace of El, had we managed to survive, only to have our kingdom crushed by Cyrus and Alexandros. I remember that night clearly indeed; the rabbis encouraged us, and told us to remember our ways, to not let the Hellenes corrupt us. We prayed to HaShem to guide and watch over us as we fought. Finally, dawn came, and after little rest, we departed.
As we left, I glanced back at my home; I felt a pang of sorrow knowing that I would not see it for a long time. By the glory of El, if I had only known what was to come, surely I would have held myself that day. Breathing a deep sigh I turned my head ‘round and glanced ahead, seeing my comrades tightly filed marching along the dirt road. As we were Iudaioi we were allowed rights as citizens, as well as rights to our own culture, but only if we swore ourselves to the Basileus and joined the levies. Being a merchant I recognized when a deal was good and bad, a serpent in the garden, HaShem ha seen fit to bless me with this gift. The fault of this deal lay in that the Hellenes had invaded our home, and they forced their culture upon us, which many grew furious at. This Serpent’s bargain would allow my people the right to live as they would, but as slaves in name and way to a foreigner, something which I thought might inspire some to rebellion.
Putting these treasonous thoughts out of my mind I turned back to marching, we were now some cubits from the town, thank El it was not the Sabbath! The sun was beginning to rise in the sky and Diospolis was coming into sight. I had been there a few times, it was a Hellenistic city, and as such it was magnificent to us. The walls were made from sandstone and the buildings were made of stone and marble. Its great gates hung heavy-laden with brass, its temples beauteous works (though they were devoted to unworthy gods), and its markets large. Such grandeur was hard for us to grasp, many had never seen the city, though we lived only a few thousand cubits away. I had been fortunate to grace its market, spoken with Syrian traders selling sweet scented cedar, observed the Hellenic art, and seen the Steles erected in the name of the Basileus; I was still impressed.
When we had arrived at Diospolis, and when the wave of awe had left us, we found ourselves among the conscription center, surrounded by Syriakoi, or Syrians, Hellenes, and our fellow Israelites. Here a man rose up on a wooden block, a Hellene by his looks, and began to give instructions in Greek. Ammiel, My other neighbor who was not a greedy rat, ( oh blessed be HaShem, one should try to love one’s neighbors) asked me to translate. “The Greedy sons of Seleukos Nikator seek more land to call their own, they think themselves as invincible as Achilles, as mighty as Herakles, as if they were blessed by Ares himself!” Truthfully, I knew not of these strange men of whom the Hellene spoke, but the names appeared to incite strong feelings in the men around us. We assumed they were great men, like David, or Wise Solomon, and did our best to emulate the Hellenes’ feelings. “These foul men, traitors to the heirs of Megos Alexandros, attack their brethren in Syria. The Makedonians, true to the will of Alexandros, unite with us to defend true honor! The Basileus calls upon you! You foreign countrymen! You good Greeks! He calls for you to answer the call of your countrymen! To prove yourself worthy heirs of Alexandros and do battle with the foul sons of Seleukos!” with this the Hellene finished his fiery speech, and so too did many seem to have a fire burning within them. Yet as I translated the Hellenes’ tongue, it seemed that much of the passion was lost.
I remember that the Hellene that gave the impassioned speech now removed himself from the block, and began to divide up the people. The Hellenes it seemed were always a xenophobic people, and this was reflected in their levies, as the natives and foreigners were separated from the Hellenes. To each Hellene was given a large shield, a helmet, and a long spear, to each Syrian, a helmet, bow, quiver, to each Iudaioi however, was allotted a simple spear and a small shield. “In two days, shall you depart from here, and you should be ready to fight with the foul sons of Seleukos!” said the fiery Egyptian Hellene, a phrase which I believe I had forgotten to translate. Now keep it in your mind, that we were not fighters, but a rabble of farmers and craftsmen, many among us knew little of the world outside of our own village.
Given that the “great levies” were made of simple peasants, I found myself lost in thought as we walked from the center. I pondered why it should be so that simple men should be made to know the horror of war. I wondered what drove us men to listen to far-off rulers, was it out of our fear of punishment? Was it because we are taught to be good people by holy El? Or perhaps, perhaps it was because we had simply been told to be blindly loyal from birth. “No” I had told myself “we do this because we are good men, because we seek to defend our ways and what is ours.” If this was true, then why would we fight for a foreign king who did away with many of our ways?
Come the next day many of the younger men from my town were becoming anxious, they sought to see more of the marble-wrought town, with it’s magnificent trees and plants. I admit that I myself had a moment of weakness, where I had been tempted to give in to my wants, to thrust myself into the vigor of the city. Yes, I know that you must think me weak, but is it not said that a man needs more than his daily bread to live? The city was magnificent compared to our small home. The buildings were white and many had fine ivy growing up them to their clay roofs, while in our home the buildings were brown and no plant would dare touch it. The fountains were carved in the majesty of men, showing their nature in sharp detail, while we had but a simple hole to draw water from. The Hellenes had painted majestic frescoes on the streets, erected great steles telling of our deeds, and even had a bibliotheke where many scrolls were kept. Imagine it! A place where even common men may read great tales or holy texts, and to think, this was a small Hellenic town!
My moment of weakness disappeared as the elder among us reminded us of the rabbis’ words. “Take you care to remember your covenant with Yaweh, and do not be swayed by the gods unworthy of prayer. It was He who led our people from Egypt, He who made Israel the father of our nations. Do not challenge his authority and integrity, even Job, with whom He conversed with, was humbled by his might. You will see many fine things that might tempt you from his path, as a wolf might tempt a sheep. I urge you to remember that you are children of Israel, and not of the Hellenes.” Indeed these words struck me now and buried themselves within my heart; for I looked around me and saw indeed that the city was as a wolf waiting for me with baited teeth. Putting these thoughts from my mind, I returned to my place of slumber, and awaited the next day.
The day of our departure from this city came, and groggily I made myself awaken. Truthfully, I remember little of this day, or many following ones; however what I recall is mostly the walk. I remember it being long, winding through the dusty hills, the rocks jutting forth in gruesome, menacing shapes. Dotted like sheep upon a field were trees standing out in stark contrast against the jagged stone. The air, one would have little ease forgetting it, as the air was crisp and clean, at night its briskness would hit one with such force, one would be struck with awe. The skies themselves echoed full of past deeds done in this land. High above one could see the angels watching over us, to think that these heavenly things were conquered by Israel!
The company was also mixed, perhaps forming a greater clash than the environment. Rich and poor, Hellene and native all marched alongside one another, all bitter enemies by history’s right. I am not sure on which day this was, but I am sure of my recollection of lapsing into another moment of weakness. O, Adonai, forgive me! Thoughts had entered into my mind, thoughts of foul treason, of betraying my fellow men. These thoughts you asked? I wondered why I was here, why had I not simply refused to come? Surely such violent struggle was no place for one such as I, and surely I and my brothers would indeed have been better off had I stayed? Then, as if one of the heavenly bodies had overheard me, I recalled the story of Jacob and Esau. A story told to many boys by the elders in the temple, one that shows us a struggle between the houses of two brothers. I asked myself if, even though he was chosen by Yaweh, would Jacob have become Israel if had one man chosen to not fight? Still, I felt confused, my elders assured me that it was just fear, that I should be strong and not let such thoughts worry me. They assured me that HaShem would fill my heart with courage and confidence, that we would stand before our foe as David before his. Finally the day had come, by Elohim’s wishes, we were to fight.
The sun broke through the clouds at mid-day, casting strange pillars of light. No, strange is not the right word, they were glorious for they told us, in the resounding voice of haEl, that we would be in his care. I find myself now daring to think that it was perhaps too soon for many to fall in his care, though I shudder at the thought of denouncing Him. An eerie still added to the scene, when the generals had commanded us to fight. Men charged full of vigor and energy, as if lightning coursed through their veins. I stood with my brothers, unsure and afraid, the world seemed a torrent of chaos, strange projectiles flew around, large clattering noises occurred, sights began to blur. I remember that fateful day well, so much had terror rooted itself within me that I had seemed to lose control of myself and surroundings.
As I shut myself in off in my own blackness, the world continued to rage, it seemed as if such fury would tear asunder the earth. I would not realize until later, that this immense clash, this torrent of fury and violence, was nothing more than a small uneventful battle, yet I would still suffer a thousand years of servitude than be made to face such matters again. Yes, you might call me a coward, judging me on my inaction as my brothers fought and died. But I ask, to end do their deaths accomplish? Yes they had died for their Basileus, but how many truly admired him? How many would not have rather been home?
One must ask himself, why is it men are willing to do such things? Why is it men are willing to toss away their glorious gift of life, or to take that of another, for matters of a feud between two far-off rulers? Would men show the same devotion to a man of common birth, were he to be honest of his background? I do not betray my god here; instead I ask why men betray him, why men are so willing to allow such evil into their hearts for some affair of honor that does not matter to them? Now, after my travels, I think I may have such wisdom to understand this. Perhaps men are willing to go to such extremes for noble men and not common ones, is that they are the common man. The noble man is above; it is something to want, to strive for, to be. Perhaps the noble man is more of a concept to the common man, and the king embodies that concept. As such, the ruler might be seen as a sort of culture personified, and one would fight to defend just as readily as a brother. Surely, such just and perfect people are better decision makers than we are, or so we might wish to think.
Whether or not these concepts hold true, the result in unchangeable, as it is in my tale, for indeed many men fell day. I almost regret to tell this next part, as it is no tale of great heroism, nor is it one of great cunning. I had, in the next few moments of that battle, been calling for some form of guidance, some way to deliver me to safety; I was not yet ready to leave this land! With this in mind, I focused my conscious will and efforts into steeling myself, and then I felt it. The love of El graced me, my heart soared and I was filled with warmth, I heard songbirds call out. I opened my eyes to greet the songbirds, to hurl myself with such fury and might at my foe that he would be crushed! Oh by Yahweh’s watchful eyes, it is such an embarrassment that it was not a songbird calling, but indeed it was a blade which struck me along the head.