Stories Thread

Stories of the Arche Seleukeia

This thread is for all in-character stories, except for Battle Reports, which have their own thread. Any post in this thread which is not an IC story will be moved or deleted.

Note: If your story involves interaction with another player's avatar or otherwise intrudes into an IC area that another player would be expected to have creative control over, you must get the permission of that player before posting your story.

Seleukeia, Summer 272BC

Antiochos stood near the window and watched outside. Recent messages from all over the Empire made him sour and grumpy. He turned around and walked back to table that was filled with parchments. He sighed and then ringed a bell. One of his personal slaves walked in.

"Sautes, here is the list of the Strategos' that have been invited to the Royal Council. Make sure that all of them get the invitation."

Sautes bowed and took the list. But before he left the room he turned around and said..

"Basileus, you can not blame yourself. Most of us, most of the people, will support you no matter what happens."

Antiochos smiled and gave a nod to Sautes who bowed and left the room. Once alone in the room again he turned and took a seat.

"Although some say that we are the Most Advanced, Largest and Strongest Empire in the known world. But I think we are just a shadow of our former glory. Riots in east have showed that. Over 600 people died in those riots, both civilians and soldiers. Many buildings were damaged. Even some temples were razed by the angry people. And now this. Hayasdan, Pahlava and Baktria have declared themselves independent and cancelled alliances with us. Ptolemaios and his bloodthirsty Egyptian hordes will soon be upon us too. And our western enemies..."

Antiochos sighed...

"Creation of the Royal Council was the last resort. I can not fail my father and his dream..."

A cool chill ran down Cunobelinus' spine. He was a reddish-blond haired man with a frightening physical stature. The cool summer breeze ran southwest along the grassy hills outside Ipsos.
"Master, we are needed at the council chambers, by the order of the Basileus"

"Of course, Sennus." Arrhenides Gedrosianos Cunobelinus replied to his servant.
Cunobelinus rose from his knees at the grave infront of him, thinking to himself - "I never knew you, father, But by the will of the Gods I will wear your name to honour you, and bring honour to our family.

Cunobelinus walked to his horse, "Damn Syrians think they rule the world! Bah! We shall see soon enough, won't we Sennus? Ptolemy grows stronger by the day, and with the Nile as his spine, he will not be broken easily."

"Sire, you give him too much credit! And these Syrians are rulers of the most powerful empire in the four quarters."

"Hmmm, only you of all servants would have the manhood to disagree with me. You do have a point however!" chuckled Cunobelinus, "However we are in a precarious position, the Persians and the brutal nomads to the North grow bolder each day. It is only a matter of time before the Northern borders collapse. It is this man's opinion that our future lies in the Mediterranean. Not in the East. We should leave that place for the Nomads who seem so eager to have it. This empire is but a shadow of the former glory that was Megas Alexandros! And these bastard Syrians do not hold the values and visions of unity that he did. The Arche Selucia's Easten holdings WILL fall. Alas we will last... If this blasted Syrian dynasty does not."

"You DO have a point there Sire!"

The two men saddled up on their horses, Arrhenides looked to his fathers grave one last time. "I will see you one day Cunobelinus, By the will of Morrigan we will meet." the young Cunobelinus nodded, as he pulled the reigns of his black horse.

"Oh, and not a word of this to anyone, right Sennus?"

"Of course, Sire!" his loyal servant said with a ear to ear grin,

"Look, the sun is rising! I think today is going to be quite a day, wouldn't you agree?"
Both men looked at each other and laughed as they rode north to the city.

OOC: lets get some more stories in here!

Polyxenidos Lykikos lay senseless in his bed, an opium pipe dangling between two bent fingers and six empty wine jugs scattered on the floor around two sleeping prostitutes, each garishly made up. The late afternoon sun gave the room a surreal air, the bright blue Ishtar Gates visible through the window reminded Heronius, Greek captain of Lykikos personal bodyguard, how far from home he was, the pathetic sight of his patron reinforced how he missed Corinth.

"Sir, a letter from the Basileus!" he announced in a loud voice, startling the prostitutes out of slumber but the only sign Lykikos was still alive was a flutter of his fingers, dropping the opium pipe to the floor. Heronius walked up to the prostitutes and kicked one in the side, "Get out of here" he ordered in his most authoritative voice, vaguely wondering if they were male or female as they stumbled out. Sitting on a chair beside Lykikos bed Heronius looked at the man who paid his wages, thinking the letter in his hand would change both their lives, for the better or worse he had no idea. He was well aware of the problems facing the empire and realised that if the Basileus thought men like Lykikos was the answer things were actually much worse than he thought. Perhaps Antiochos believed sacrificing the most incompetent men in the empire would appease the gods, in which case he would drag Lykikos to Seleukeia by the feet if necessary.

"Sir!" he shouted again and Lykikos began to stir. Heronius handed the letter over, fully aware Lykikos was illiterate. The Babylonian looked at the letter through bleary eyes then handed it back "I am too tired to read today," he claimed in his most arrogant voice "I spent last night putting together a business deal that will pay the wages for you and your men for the next 20 years. You read it to me, you haven't had to fight for the twelve years you have worked for my family, I may as well get some use out of you."
"Of course sir, the Basileus requests your presence in Seleukeia."
"Who?"
"The Basileus sir, Antiochus"
"You don't think he wants me to fight do you? I mean, it's about time. I suppose he will want me to run Babylon for him, such a great city is probably too much for him. Won't the people be overjoyed?"
"Yes, they truly will."

Heronius called the houseslaves up to clean the room and Lykikos, then went downstairs to ready the men for the short journey to Seleukeia, absently wondering how hard it would be to "accidently" kill Lykikos in the confusion of battle.

At Kleros Laodikeion in Sophene, early afternoon. Late Summer 272 BC

Phanias Laodikeias Lydikes steps forth from the smoke filled tent with an exclamation of, "Syria Dea! what now?" to the messenger standing at the entrance. "Can't you people leave me to my meditations?"

The messenger responds with a sneer, " I don't think rotting your brains in a barbaroi hemp oven does anything to promote the glory of Megas Alexandros. Wake up, man, you are a Strategos of the Arkhe Seleukeia, it's about time to start acting the part, well, here's your opportunity. The Basileus has called a meeting of Strategoi at Seleukeia, you are required to attend".

Phanias looks up with a smile "Well, it's a cold wind howling down the pass, I suppose it's a good time for a holiday to the riverlands. Courier, I shall depart presently. Mardakou!" Phanias snaps to his steward, "Saddle my good Skythoi mare, the one I have from my mother, and tell Danae to get ready to go on a journey. Pack provisions and wine to last a trip to Seleukeia. And have a slave take this messenger to the kitchens and feed him 'till he can't eat anymore, and wine to wash off the dust of the desert"

Mardakou stammers incredulously as the courier is escorted to the kitchens, "b.b.b.but Sir, do you really think it's advisable to bring an Hetaira to the Basileus' war council?"

Looking put upon, Phanias sighs, "Just do it Mardakou, I'm sure the gods don't begrudge me joyful companionship, considering my former 'wife' decided to run off with some dirty Armenios, he was a pig farmer or something, wasn't he?"

"I don't know, sir" states Mardakou, "and anyways, shouldn't you be thinking on the business of punishing those Armenioi if you get the opportunity? It will be more difficult to keep your focus strong if you surround yourself with distractions like Danae"

"Hehehe, my dear Mardakou, Danae is accompanying me on this journey, your protests not withstanding. I don't pay you to advise me of court etiquette, and your dislike of Danae is immaterial. I pay you to run my estates and instruct my servants, so please do so now. We leave tomorrow at sunrise." Phanias smirks.

At the house of Attalos Pergamou Mysiakes, Sardis.

Iskender knocked on the door, and entered without bothering to wait for an answer. He found Strategos Attalos Peragmou Mysiakes, son of Kleomenes Peragmou Mysiakes, former King of Peragmon, at his table eating breakfast.

"I'm sorry to distrub you sir, but there's a letter for you. It's from the Basielus." Iskender panted as he spoke. It was clear that he had run all the way here from the Governor's house.

Attalos took the letter and opened it. "A meeting of the strategoi? Interesting. This may be my opportunity, Iskender. As you know, my father was once King of Peragmon, but he was overthrown by his brother, who's son rules Peragmon now. My father was given shelter here in Sardis by the old Basielus (may he rest in peace). Perhaps this is a chance to retake Peragmon for the rightful heir? Certainly if we can get the rest of the council to agree to it, Peragmon can become part of the Arche Seleukia, and I can become King (under the Baselius of Seleukia, anyway) as is my right? Prepare two horses. We leave tomorrow."

"Two horses, sir?"

"Yes. Did you really think that I would leave without my most trusted servant? I don't know what I'd do without you."

- You there! Bring me that slave girl, what's her name... that girl I bought from the market yesterday. I think it's time for her initiation.
- Right away, sir!

At the same moment that the guard leaves, a messenger steps into the room.

- "Sir, I come bearing an urgent message for you. His lord Antiochos..."
- "Not now. Whatever that old man may want from me, it can wait. I have other things to do right now."
- "But sir, it's important, and I was ordered to deliver the news to you as soon as I got here. I have already given the first letter to Iskender, a servant of lord Attalos."
- "And I'm sure he made the wisest of it. I, however, have bought a new girl for my collection, and it's high time for me to welcome her to her new master. Oh, and here she is! Not noble by any means, but still a feast for the eyes, wouldn't you say? So, you wait."
- "Yes, a beauty she is. But milord, I must insist that you listen to what I have to say first. It is in your best interests. You will have plenty of time for her when you get back."
- "Get back? Get back from what?"
- "That's the thing, sir. Lord Antiochos has called for the creation of a Royal Counsil, where very important decisions will be made, and you are called to attend it."
*Sarpedon sighs heavily*
- "All right, you win. Guard, send the girl away. Now tell me all I need to know about this counsil.

After the messenger leaves, Sarpedon walks over to the window, and addresses another slave.

- "What day is it now, Arsenios?"
- "It's Monday, sir."
- "Monday, eh? Hmm... I'll need to leave first thing in the morning. Make sure that everything is ready for my departure, and inform Hilarion as well - he'll be coming with me. I'll be going to bed now; I want to be rested out for the journey. I expect to be awoken at the first sunlight."

At the governor of Mazaka's house, summer of 272 b.C.

A ray of light found its way through the curtains and hit Aratos' face. The suns heat woke him and he move his head lazily. However it was impossible to fall asleep again the city's square was already filling up with the noise of the traders mounting their tents. He growled, this was the smallest "palace" he had ever been stationed in. This was quite a promising city, miners have already found precious ores but were waiting for investment, the lands were fertile and the Persian Royal Road passed right through it. But the war, the damn war drained all the money. Well at least the governor wasn't corrupt and didn't spend his assigned budget on building huge palaces for himself.

He got up, kissed his wife good morning, climbed over the wooden frame holding the curtains and stood up on the tiled floor of the rooftop's balcony. That night, as on many other hot summer nights, he slept outside, a good opportunity for petty assassins but Aratos always reorganized and reforced the night shifts of the guards when necessary annoying many hosts. Sometimes he wouldn't even do that, who would want to assassinate an unknown and young Strategos? Now his father, Timarchos, had plenty of failed assassination attempts stories when he returned home from a spying mission, but one is just so lucky. Aratos' was 17 when a messenger arrived at his family's state bringing news of his father death by an egyptian assassin. Everyone cried, but Aratos remained steady, remembering his father's lessons, he then pledged to avenge his father's death and destroy Ptolemaios' Egypt.

From his missions to far away lands Timarchos always brought back home to Persepolis friends and teachers who helped in his son's education. The Syriakes family was a military one, Aratos grandfather had been a captain of Nikathor Syriakos' Royal Army. But Timarchos had chosen a different path and he regreted it. So he dedicated himself in educating his only son (though Aratos had an unmarried younger sister, 16 years old). One of his foreign military teachers was Hágárádáz, a germanic exiled from his tribe called the Hobukoz, quite a mysterious man as most of his foreign teachers were, and as was also Timarchos, who always tried to keep his son out of his shady side businesses. Probably that's why he got killed...

Hágárádáz fell in love with Persia and remained in Persepolis under Syriakes family protection. Then Aratos was promoted to Strategos and was assigned to Mikro Asia, at age 20. Of course he brought the germanic who Aratos grew fond of. Besides his strange "barbaric" ways, he was a wise 48 year old man and could prove useful when dealing with galatian mercenaries, who Aratos would surely meet at Mikro Asia.

Aratos sighed and looked around the small town. He looked south and watched the huge mountain range, reminding him of his travels to the northern Baktrian regions when he was a child. There was also a vulcano expelling gases between the mountains, he never saw one before, and desired to climb it, but those regions were dangerous because beyond them was a region controlled by egyptians and the city of Tarsos. Then he looked north, along the endless stone road curving between the forest, beyond it were independent Pontic lands.

How can these lands remain independent, they must be -

"Master Syriakes!" shouted someone, down on the garden.

Aratos walked to the edge of the balcony and looked down. "Well good morning Virios, how did you know I was awake?"

"Oh I know many things Master."

Aratos laughed. "What do you have for me?"

"This is a message from the Basileus. Hágárádáz was awake when a messenger arrived early this morning."

"I assume he's waiting for me at the living room, I'll come down. We shouted to much, we must've awaken the governor by now and he doesn't like me very much."

When Aratos arrived at the living room, the servant gave him the message and left, the Strategos opened it and read it.

Aratos face was concetrated, after a while he raised his eyebrows and looked up at Hágárádáz. "The Basileus is summoning a Council with all the Strategos."

"Strange..." murmured Hágárádáz.

"Yes... very interesting. Well Hágárádáz go and prepare the expedition. We'll travel only with our bodyguards and we will cross egyptian territory quickly, I don't feel like going all around the borders."

"Yes, sir."

"I'll go warn my wife, we'll be in Antiocheia for a short time, then we return to Mazaka."

Later in the day, while Aratos mounted his horse, he smiled and thought about many other Strategos who had to cross the whole Empire to arrive at Antiocheia. Captain Krateros, a good friend of Aratos, asked why was he smiling and so Aratos told the joke to his soldiers while the gates closed behind them.


OOC: You might want to view Mazaka in game, to help illustrate the story... Note how small the governor's house is!!! I never seen such a thing. Yes there is no rooftop tiled balcony, but imagine it :sweatdrop:
:dizzy2: I think I never wrote so much in my life, this PBM is going to change my life 0_0

Bithys Nisaias Parthiakes awoke from his troubled sleep with a start, drawing his sword from the table besides his bed.

“Whose there?” he shouted. “I can see you hiding in the shadows.” All he met with was silence. “Just another dream.”

He lay back down on his bed and pulled furs close. He looked around his Spartan apartment. It consisted of a single room with a simple, wooden bed and a table with a single chair. A single window looked out to the world beyond. Outside was a strange land. The town was Greek in design but it lay amid the cold, harsh steppe stretching to the horizon. Memories suddenly came flashing back to Parthiakes , memories he wished to forget. He had been sent when young to Sparta, never to see his family again. There he was trained and brought up as a Spartan soldier. After his training, he saw some service but nothing exceptional. He would have had a nice life there if he hadn’t killed his messes’ overseer.

“That man was cruel, a scourge to god and man, I was right to do it. You were right.” he told himself again and again.

After that, he was forced to flee for his life. But the arms of those who wanted his blood were long and he barely survived several assassination attempts. He didn’t find peace until he reached the ends of the know world, the barren steppe far away from the world he knew. There he was hired as a Strategos to help fight off the nomadic hoard under the name of Parthiakes.

Curse the nomads, they always seek to take what is ours and our ‘fellow Greeks‘ in Bactria won‘t be much help either, they have a mind of their own. This empire was once great but now has fallen into shadow. The Seleucid monarchs took more than they could handle when they claimed this wilderness. Many leaders of the Empire seek to abandon the east all together and destroy our enemies in the west at all cost. But this is a foolish view. We cannot abandon fellow Greeks to be slaughtered mercilessly.

Just then, a messenger arrived, slowly opening the creaky door.

“Strategos, you have been summoned to Antiocheia by the Basileus.” the messenger announced.

“Why me??” Parthiakes replied.

“All the Strategos of the Empire are being called together, leave at once.”

“All right, I will go.” Parthiakes sighed. “Tell the stable boy to saddle my horse and provision it for the ride to Antiocheia.”

“Very well.” the messenger replied. He then turned around and left at once.

This could be my chance to redeem myself. I will assuredly find friends, but will I find enemies as well? It matters not, to horse…

The sun was high, baking the three men on horseback, heading West along the old Persian road.
"This is where it happened."

"What, sire?"

"Where those brave... no foolhardy bandits attacked us, Sennus." Cunobelinus sunk into his horse grasping his longsword. He glared around himself, watching the tops of the mountains, he was all but home, but despite good omen of perfect weather, he still felt uneasy

"Whats wrong Arrhenides?" Achaikos asked
Achaikos was Cunobelinus' closest companion, a friend from childhood, a friendship reinforced by battle.

"Got the chills again, brother. The same ones that hit me before they hit us."
A glint in the sky caught Achaikos' eye
":daisy:! an arrow!" The head sunk deep into the thigh of Sennus' horse, wining in pain, Cunobelinus sat back up drawing his blade, as 5 light cavalry charged out of the brush. One wielding a bow. He must not have been very good with it, missing all but the first shot.

"Into them! We face them head on!" Cunobelinus shouted,
As the three men crossed through the bandits charge, Cunobelinus sliced open the Bowman's gut, Achaikos clashed blades with another and came out unscathed, Sennus plunged his blade into another's chest, but lost grip of the hilt, and was cut down by another bandit.
"SENNUS!" A red mist covered the Galatian's eyes, his fallen comrade now at the back of his mind, survival at the front.
"There's three left! You take left, I've got the right, Cuno!"
Paying no attention to his friend Cunobelinus charged up the middle urging his horse on, decapitating the first man, parrying the second on the left, and ducking under the third's blade. Achaikos cut down the last horsemen as Cunobelinus ducked under the bandit's slash. The last bandit now realizing he has been outclassed took flight. Cunobelinus pursued, throwing his spear at the man. The weapon sunk deep into the horse's rear, toppling. The Celt dismounted walking up to the man now trapped under his wounded horse.
"You have no idea whom you quarrel with."
"Life is easy for a boy whom has been born with everything!"
With that Arrhenides sank his blade into the battered man's neck.

"If I'd spotted the arrow sooner We'd-"
"We'd have lost Sennus earlier. It doesn't matter. He's dead. He was just a slave."
"He was your friend. In light of his passing don't forsake his friendship. I'd hope if I fall beside you you don't do the same." retorted Achaikos,
"You aren't a slave."
"And you aren't a King."
"Regardless, we need to address this issue with the Satrap here. We need to increase the military presence here. If we had a larger garrison this never would have happened."
"You should know as much as anyone that you cannot stop bandits completely, Arrhenides. We cannot watch the roads all the time. Besides we need to focus our energies elsewhere. The campaign to the Southern coast approaches soon. And no doubt you are going to be on it."
"As if they'd leave my Celt ass to keep the books in Ipsos!" Laughed Arrhenides "just make sure that horse is looked after... The arrow cut deep, but he's a strong one."
"I hope you don't charge into Ptolemy's heavy cavalry, like you did here... You won't last long with foolishness like that, brother. You are too sure of yourself!" Advised Achaikos
"So was Alexander..." Cunobelinus glared towards Achaikos.
"Just watch the bushes and mountains... We don't need anymore bloody surprises today." remarked Achaikos.

Theodotas Termessou Pisidikes walked out of the council chamber, shocked and elated at the same time. He could not believe that he had been given command of an army. The great Basileus, emperor of all Seleukeia, had placed him in command of the newly created First Lydian Army. His task now was to strike at the Ptolemies' Cilician holdings, and take their land, in the name of his Basilieus.

To Theodotas, this all seemed too surreal. He had been born into a wealthy family in Syria, but all the same he was not a noble. From 18 years old and onward, he had fought as a Klerouchos in the Seleukid military, defending the city of Antiocheia, the city of his Basileus, from the Ptolemies. Because of his wealthy father, he had been given command of a single phalanx regiment under the Strategos that was in charge of the army.

His mind flashed back to that fateful day:

Theodotas had been serving in the military for 3 years. One day, late in the summer, the Ptolemaioi besieged Antiocheia again with a great host. For three weeks they stood outside the great walls, raiding farms outside and building rams and ladders. Then they attacked. Theodotas' regiment was guarding one of the main roads into the center of the city. He heard the ram all the way from where he was, pounding at the gates. Then, a huge crack as the gates were smashed open, and the enemy forces started pouring in. The strategos, who was with his bodyguard behind another phalanx in front of the gate, was impaled on a huge shard of wood as soon as he gates burst open. The battle soon devolved into complete chaos. The gate-guarding regiment as well as the forces on the walls were completely overwhelmed. Thousands of the soldiers of Ptolemaios started closing in on Theodotas' regiment.

That day, Theodotas had managed to hold back and exhaust the Ptolemaioi until reinforcements from Aleppo arrived and saved the city. Upon the return of the Basileus, Theodotas was proclaimed a hero and granted the title of Strategos. The 21 year old Syrian son of a merchant , now a Strategos of Seleukeia!

Now, almost eight years more had passed, and Theodotas, who had fallen into obscurity, was being given command of an army. He was to strike down the hated Ptolemies who had haunted his dreams for years. Theodotas would not fail his Basileus. He was sure of it. He returned to his horse, and began the long journey back to Ipsos, where he would be hailed- a true Strategos.

Two men strode out of the Council Chambers, the smaller man looking thoughtful and his companion slightly anxious.

"Where to then sir?" the larger man asked, expecting the reply to be a brothel or an opium den.
"East."
"Excuse me?"
"East"
"Is that the name of a brothel?" Heronius asked, genuinely perplexed.
"Not very learned for a Greek are you? It's the opposite of west."

Heronius didn't reply, wondering what was going through his patrons mind. The two had travelled to Seleukeia with the rest of Lykikos' bodyguard and all the Babylonian had spoken of was what great plans the Basileus must have for him. Heronius had thought the fact that he was totally overlooked for any position, and that the other Strategoi seemed to have no idea who he was, would have either angered or depressed him. This calm and almost purposeful reaction surprised the Greek.

"Why did the old fool invite me?" murmured Lykikos, more to himself than the old soldier.
"I had hoped he planned to sacrifice you to the gods."
Lykikos surprised his companion with a chuckle. "I'll bet you did, and perhaps I may have deserved it. Still, what was the point of calling me here? I was in the same room as the Basileus yet I gained nothing. It made me realise something, if I want power, position, glory I shall have to take it, it will not simply be handed to me. So we go east."

Lykikos plans dawned on Heronius,exciting and amazing him at the same time. Most of the talk in the chamber had been about the eastern territories, some even talking about abandoning part of the Empires holding in the northeast. Out there a man could make a name for himself, and perhaps, far from the eyes of the Basileus, carve out a semi-autonomous Kingdom for himself. That his drug addled, wine soaked, lazy and not very bright paymaster had come to this conclusion on his own, and actually planned to go and try it, made the native of Corinth realise anything was possible.

"One more thing Heronius, who was that idiot who had the temerity to vote against my proposal?"
"That was Andromachos Syriakos, the nephew of the Basilieus" Herenius replied, strangely glad to hear Lykikos sound more like his usual self.
"I shall remember that name, and give him cause to remember mine."

"Where do you think you're going?" Hilarion caught Sarpedon's shoulder. "You still have lots of paperwork left." Sarpedon sighs. "I know, but I need a break. Despite all my good intentions to increase the intellect by building schools and to reform the farming, many are angry at me. They're ungrateful bastards, only giving me :daisy: for not doing what I can't do due to lack of funds."

"While that's true, you still can't give up on them. You're still new as a satrap, and the people know it. Once more time has passed, they will cool down and realize how lucky they are, and they'll thank you for your devotion. In fact, I think the time will come when..."

"Yeah, yeah, but that's then. Have my assistants handle this work; I need a holiday. Speaking of which, we never celebrated my becoming a satrap, did we?"

"No, I don't think we did."

"Then it's settled! We'll take a holiday, you, I and our concubines. We leave first thing tomorrow morning, so go make yourself ready. I will see to it that my slaves prepare everything else."

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea..."

"Ah, hogwash! It's a great idea. It's a long time since we had anything like that anyway."

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

OOC: This is the last thing I write before I leave. I'll be back on Monday.

Somewhere east of Ipsos.

Strategos Attalos Peragmou Mysiakes and his faithful servant Iskender are riding down the road. A group of heavily armored cavalrymen follow behind.

"Attalos, we've been riding east for days. When are you going to tell me where we're going?" demanded Iskender.

Attalos responded, annoyed, "Were you anyone but Iskender, I would be never tolerate such a tone from you. But, you are Iskender, and so I will tell you. We are going to Apameia."

"Apameia, sir? Where is that?"

"It is a small town to the east."

"And you would leave your home in Sardis for some town to the east, so small that I have never even heard of it? Why would you do this!" Now it was Iskender's turn to get angry.

Attalos seemed unpreturbed by Iskender's response. "What is there for me in Sardis, Iskender? The comfortable house that my father left me? I can find another one. Perhaps it is close to my rightful kingdom of Peragmon? It can be taken back later. I went to the meeting of the Strategoi, and gained nothing of it! I had hoped for the Satrapy of Mikra Asia, a place from which I can take back Peragmon! But a more capable man was appointed in my place, and I sincerely wish him luck.

"What this has made me realize is that I cannot simply get by on being the son of the exiled King of Peragmon. That is the only reason that I have anything!" Attalos began to get angry from his frustrations, "I can see that I will have to make a name for myself. I cannot rely on my heredity! And the best place to do that is in the vast East. That, Iskender, is where I will get noticed. Someday, perhaps, I will return to retake my rightful place as King of Peragmon, second only to the Baselius of the Arche Seleukia in the governance of those lands, or perhaps my son will, or his son. One day my family will rule in Peragmon again, but first I will have to become great in my own right."

Attalos' rant was interrupted by a soldier on horseback. "I have a letter fo you sir. Its from the Baselius."

Suddenly, Attalos calmed down. Perhaps, he thought, I achieved something in the council after all. He opened the letter. "Dear Lord Attalos," he began reading, "I have appointed you as the commander of my Royal Army. It will be stationed near Antiocheia once it has been fully recruited."

"Well, Iskender, it seems we're going to Syria instead."

"I'm not going through that same bloody passage..."

"Oh yeah? and how are you going to stop me?" chuckled Cunobelinus

"By not coming with you." replied Achaikos

"You DO realize the only other route is through Ptolemy's territory. I'd rather face a bunch of buffoons covered in :daisy:, then a full army of Ptolemy."

"You have a point."

"Would people quit saying that, I already know that... I wouldn't open my mouth if I didn't."

"You have a point!" Achaikos was giggling by this point
"Just shut up and help me with my armour, we are going through that same pass and thats final... Its the only way we'll make it in time. We only have 2 seasons to make it in time. I am not missing it because you are a coward!"

Achaikos helped strap Cunobelinus' breastplate on

"Lets just hope that the infantry does its job on the walls. 'Else we won't be even getting inside them."

"Have faith. This is the stock that stood at Thermoplaye."

"The age of the Greeks is over, Achaikos a new people will rise and conquer. We are just slugging ourselves to peices... You will see."

"And who is this people? The Galatians?" Achaikos gave a hearty laugh "Brennus ran out of energy that's why you are settled where you are!"

"I didn't mean my people. I am not that conceited. Who knows what the west holds... Alexander never conquered the North... We don't even know what is out East, past the Indus, and Himalayas. Where the silk comes from. To create such exquisite textiles must require technology we have no knowledge of. There must be a great civilization across those mountains. We are but a small blip in history. We will be forgotten."

"With that attitude yes. You should be more positive. Hell, we are about to go to battle, a battle you had no need to enter... but you wanted to see action! And now we are! By the way.. Like I said earlier. Don't be reckless, I won't be at your side one hundred per cent of the time."

"I want to see those mountains." Cunobelinus' eyes widened as he spoke of the mountains

"who?"

"Those mountains. Where Alexander and Ptolemy stood, when they finally realized that our world is much greater than ourselves. I want to stand where they stood. It must have been magnificent. To see such an impassible wall of nature before you. I've heard that people actually live in those mountains. Can you believe that? Mountain people! The East sure harbours strange peoples. There is a whole world to discover on the other side of the Himalayas."

"Have you been smoking sativa again? Get your head out of your ass and into gear. We need to be ready for anything." Achaikos said sternly

"Shut up... And help me find my greaves."

In a mountain pass under clear blue skies around a dozen men are sitting around a fire readying themselves for another days marching. A messenger gallops up to the camp.

"Strategos, a message from the Basileus!"
"What is it man?"
"The paperwork confirming you as Satrap of Parthia!"
"What! The old fool actually has a brain then. Give me that.... Wait a minute you ******!! This is addressed to Phanias Laodikeias Lydikes!"
"Is that not you?"
"NO YOU ******* ******"
"Whoops"
"GET BACK HERE, MEN CHASE THAT FOOL DOWN!!!"

Polyxenidos Lykikos stands shouting after the messenger, who speeds away from the camp as fast as his horse will carry him, while around him Heronius tries to get on his horse to chase the messenger but can't as he is laughing too hard. The rest of the men can't even stand, some of them close to tears as they laugh at the Strategos.

271 BC, Siege of Tarsos.

It was late afternoon. To the west and beyond the city, over the small hills, lingered a fog and clouds which dispersed the last rays of the Sun, creating a fiery mist around the orange sun that did not hurt one's sight. The rest of the sky was Indigo blue, slowly getting darker to the east where a crescent moon was rising. Some lights could be spotted in the mist, those were of a small camp/outpost from the sieging army, or probably from a patrolling squad. There were 3 other similar outposts scattered around the city, in the distance, and another small camp near the forest. But there was a bigger and fortified camp laying beneath Strategos Syriakes' eyes. From the top of the hill where he and his bodyguards just arrived there was silence, with occasional bursts of hammering sounds. There and there a fire or torch would be lit up. Then, from the camp, someone shouted: "Strategos!" and a bell rang.

Aratos wavered forward and they started descending the hill on gallop. While lighter armoured rider sped off quicker than the main body towards the nearest small camp/outpost.
A bigger round red tent, was now illuminated from within and could be now spotted in the middle of the dark white tents.

Crossing the camps main pathway, the Strategos and the bodyguards were saluted and greeted. As they got closer to the luminated red tent the bodyguards went on to their tents, Aratos got off his horse and handed it to a man, meanwhile Hágárádáz appeared from the red tent and smiled to Aratos.

"My friend!" shouted Aratos and the two hugged.
"Yes nice to see you to Aratos." said Hágárádáz smiling, but is face grew grave now.
"Straight to the point as always, uh? Old man? What's the matter?"
The germanic responded: "I and Captain Herakleides have prepared everything, as you are used to. Also a man from the city came tried to bribe the captain. He is imprisioned now as is another diplomat. So?"

"Yes, except the diplomat..." he sighed "let him go, tie his hands and the briber's head to him."
Hágárádáz glanced at a guard. Aratos continued. "Also we'll be joined by a fellow Strategos, Cunobelinus is his family name, make space for him." The guard bowed his head and went.

They stepped in the tent.

"Oh... that reminds me, I decided to return back to my hometribe, I'm getting fed up with these lands. I'll fight by your side this last time, for everything your family and your father, specially, have done for me."

"It's your call Hágárádáz, and I will always support it... and I will fight by your side and we'll honour my father together. I will never forget you. You were like a father to me these last years, I won't forget you." Aratos smiled, "Now lets eat, I'm hungry - slave call Captain Herakleides here."

271 BC, "A feild in the @£!* end of nowhere", Camp of Timarchos Anaias Mysiakes

Mysiakes was excited, like he imagined the crowds before the olympics these greeks were so fond of would be like, today, he was recieving his first fully legal command.
He had practically wet himself with happyness when he heard dust clouds and later the arche's banners had been spotted in the distance, and had already donned his bronze muscle curiass, however a horrid dent ruined the look of it.
He made a mental note to find a replacement as soon as was possible.
He looked at the one peice of gold that wasn't a coin in camp, a statue of a contented sitting down bald and fat man, clearly praying that he picked up during his early life but never found the meaning of, and that wasn't for lack of trying, he'd asked hundreds of philosophers what they thought it was ment to represent, every time being dissapointed by their answers, he pondered it night after night, every time slightly more confused, though he thanked whoever made it every time he looked at its polished belly, for it gave a perfect reflection.
Timorchos, though slightly put out by the amount of effort it would take to find replacement armour, was pleased to see the long months away from a city and its slaves, and the large dent in his armour, made him look like a veteran of several years campaigning, then, he reminded himself, he was.

"Sir, bad news from the north" it was his galatian swordbearer, Cadayren, who had quietly entered his tent, quite a feat for a man clad head to toe in mail, Timorchos reflected, as he eyed the celt in an inquisative mannor that asked him to continue,

"It appears as though one of the minor kingdoms to the south of armenia, Georgina? Forga? Georgia?
well, however its said in greek, it looks like they've sent an army, it'll be outside Karkathiokerta by the end of the season." Cadayren looked slightly annoyed at this.

"Good, one more battle to prove ourselfs in then, and think of all the money that they'll have, and a pretext for war with the Hai any time we want one!
and I can see the mountains again"

Cadayren looked a little more annoyed "I dont like mountains sir"

"Rubbish, everyone love's good clean mountain air!
Anyway kindly inform the royal army captains of this the momment they arrive, looks like they'll be stuck with me for winter, and send a courier to babylon, I'd hate for the baselius to think I've ran off with his sun's army..."

with a nod, Cadayren nodded and left, leaving Timarchos to resume pondering his little fat statue man.

Achaikos walked through the semi-impressive market of Tarsos. Scanning the crowds for his friend. It was hard to stay on task, the commotion from the bartering at the stalls was astoundingly loud, something a farmer like him was not used to.

"hmmmm that fool is probably at the pub right now... We've only been here a week and the damn fool is already getting pissed." Achaikos thought to himself

Achaikos pushed the swivel door and scanned the room. Right up front chatting up the barman sat Cunobelinus. His mug being freshly topped off, and his hashpipe in hand. Smoke billowing from his nostrils.
"You certainly drink like a soldier. One could be easily fooled!"
Cunobelinus downed his beer
"Shut up. Enjoy yourself! We aren't going to be here for much longer. Aratos agreed to let us stay with the army!" Cunobelinus said smiling... More from the absurd amounts of alcohol he had drank than the news he bore.
"Exellent, so to Kypros is it? We should be training, not getting hammered, Cuno."
"Ahhh hogwash, we've got plenty of time to party. Besides look at all the fine women in this upstanding establisheshment! Aratos said he'd be coming too! It's gunna be one hell of a night, Have a drink on me, lets celebrate a good victory!" Cunobelinus and Achaikos raised their mugs.
"To fallen comrades! And to glorious victory!"

Still a camp in the middle of the @£!* end of nowhere, summer of 271

Timarchos was disturbed from his pondering by Cadayren, who had brought two men with him, the first was short, stocky with close cropped hair and clad in a scale mail, unmistakably a Greek, the second didn't bother with any armour at all, or cutting his hair by the look of it, but smelled quite odd, and carried a composite bow, Cadayren introduce the men,

"Sir, the leaders of the royal army, captian Dion" the short, well built man inclined his head "and Tomayris" the hairy one bowed

"Tomayris is it? what do you do, forgive me, but you hardly seam like anyone trained in hellenic warfare like this army, and persians dont have hair that long..." (plus they bathe once in a while he thought)

"Well, I do much, I read trail and find army path, I lead bowmen or horses, and I cure with plants" he looked proud of his acheivments and skills, Timarchos wondered where a man with such an odd accent and set of skills came from

"and where are your people from?"

"the steppe" he said, unhelpfully and rather arrogently

very quickly changing the subject, Timarchos asked, "Ah, you'll be my herbalist then? I was promised one"

"Yes, is me" the greek looked thankful he wouldn't be stuck with a barbarian for much longer

"you stay with me then, not the army, captian dion, we will march the army to battle tomorrow, make sure your men are ready"

"yes sir" he half shouted before leaving the tent, the sound of his voice barking orders to his men would keep Timarchos up all night, at least until he asked Tomayris for something to help him sleep, at which point Timarchos barely had time to lie down before falling into a deep sleep.

The boats beached on shore, thousands of men disembarked. The horses would be the last to be shored. This left the men incredibly vulnerable.

"PLANT THOSE STAKES! EITHER SIDE OF THE COLUMN!" Screamed Cunobelinus
":daisy: we are too vulnerable here. We need to make it to the highground." His was racing, playing scenarios of a brutal ambush on the beachhead.

"We have most of the men on the beach now Aratos. We need to move quickly, I'll take my cavalry and scout ahead for a suitable encampment."
"Good move with haste, Now!"

Cunobelinus looked back at the slowly moving column. Dust and sand kicking up from the thousands of feet hammering the beach. This was the first time he'd ever been across a body of water. He hoped it wouldn't be the last. He had an aching hangover however from his foolish partying in Tarsos. After 10 minutes of hard riding Cunobelinus reached a nice plateau. There was lush foraging around, and probably some good game aswell. Then something caught Cuno's eye.
"Is that what I think it is.... To the South of the city."
"Its pretty far away Cuno. It looks like a camp though." Achaikos replied.
"It is a camp look - Smoke!" Cunobelinus smiled and looked at his friend. "Lets have a look shall we? Didos ride to the General and tell him we've found a good encampment. Show the army here and set up my tent. GO NOW! The rest of you stay here."

One cold, clear morning, winter 271 BC, Phanias Lydikes' winter camp at the Parthayan border...
A mounted party approaches our camp, as they arrive, their apparent leader dismounts before the gate and introduces himself as Smerdis Artabanzes, a local noble with an estate near our camp.

Smerdis bows and asks "May this be the entourage of our newly appointed Satrap?"

I chuckle out my reply, "HeHeHe, good guess, what gave it away? Was it the plumes on our helmets?"

Smerdis smiles, "Not exactly, your party just looks very official. Welcome to Parthaya, sir. I have the privilege to be the appointed speaker for the local Landholders' Council, and we have a proposition for you."

"Say on", I grumble. "A bit early in my appointment to be asking favors, don't you think?"

" I'm sorry to approach you like this, but our council has thought about the recent unrest hereabouts, and we have come to an idea that may alleviate the 'unpleasantness'. If you could perhaps see your way to allow our council to have more of a hand in our day-to-day affairs, we could help to keep the people calm by having our richer members serve in the Satrapal Cavalry. We use large Nisean warhorses, and most of us have or can afford to buy armor and tack. You see, sir, the recent unhappiness in the Satrapy was found to be caused by the ever-increasing incursions by random daha(robber) parties, and the people were unhappy about the fact that the local nobility wasn't allowed to protect our people without appealing to the government in the West. I mean no disrespect to your Shahanshah, but he is far away and the dahae are here. Thank you for hearing me out."-Smerdis-

-Phanias-"Was that all? Hmmm...you've given me something to think about, however, nothing is going to get done about this until the passes in the Zagros and Elburz are clear of snow. I'll see how things are around here as the winter goes on, and we'll meet late in the spring or early summer and I'll give my decision."

Later that day Phanias, Mardakou and Aziles, Phanias' maternal uncle from Skythia, sit around a fire discussing the morning's event.

Aziles muses, "I think we should consider his request. Our ancestral enemies, the Sauromat, have been getting their hands on more armor and dressing their 'nobility' in it. If we had the local nobility equipped and properly armored, we wouldn't have to wait a year to have horsemen that could stand up to the armored nobles, and if those backward Sauromat sheepshaggers can get good armor, you know the local dahae will be able to."

-Phanias-" Ok, Aziles, I'll see what the Basileus has to say about it. Hmmm, Mardakou, how would you like to go back home to Babylon for a while?"

Mardakou gasps in surprise, "Why, sir, I thought you'd never ask. Thank you very much. I could go see my family while I'm there. What would I be doing there, sir? You make it sound as if it's a bit longer of an assignment than a quick message to the Basileus."

I reply, "Yes, it would be a permanent post. You would be my representative in Seleukeia when the council is not in session. I would send instructions for you by courier when I need to get my ideas heard by the Basileus and other members of the war council, but your first duty is to find out how more autonomy for the locals here will be received by the rest of the Arkhe. Aziles, is your son busy?"

"Oxydozes? No, why?" asks Aziles.

"Because I need a courier I can trust at a moment's notice, and you are required here to train these nobles on steppe warfare if they do form their Ilai, and to keep me abreast of goings on out on the steppes, oh, and learn the Arshkanig's speech. If they so much as stop to take a piss within my borders, I want to know about it. Well, we're done here, and I smell our midday meal."

Somewhere west of the Zagros mountains , mid-Spring 270 BC

What a fine spring day muses Mardakou to himself. The smell of the Tigris greets his nostrils as the land flattens out. Less than a day's journey from the house of his father, Mardakou thinks on all that has occurred in the last 2 years, especially his rapid rise from a simple estate chamberlain for a minor Seleukid noble to a Satrap's voice in council. Home, and all that comes with it, is on the horizon. But business does come first...

Winter, 271 BC

Timarchos was very uncomftable, he was huddled over a fire outside his tent his hands outstreched, winter always made him uneasy as he had fallen into a lake as a child and survived only by the unselfish bravery of a nearby greek soilder, he was trying to keep himself occupied, a copy of the Illiad lay nearby him, but there's only so many times you can read a book, even one as good as that.

Cadayren, his galatian swordbearer who liked winter, had been spending it putting lumps of snow on top of each other and sticking a stick in the middle of the top part and calling it a snowman, came running up to him

"I've just heard from a messanger, who had both good and bad, which would you like first?"

Timarchos looked up, glad for the distraction "good"

"the Basileus has promoted you, I'm guessing he did take your little hint..."

"So whats the bad?"

"I'm not finished with the good yet, Attalos Pergamou Mysiakes, who's leading the Basileus royal army, was impressed and has decided to adopt you, congradulates one of your life goals has been achieved, your an honourary greek" Cadayren said smiling

"So I take it the bad news must be really bad... oh god, my mum hasn't died?"

"she's fine"

Timarchos looked back at his golden statue of a sitting fat man, making sure it was still there "well than what?"

"Kleronomos Basileios Sarpendon, wants his army, we are to march it at once for Sardis, no going out of our way to destroy any rebels"

"That idiot! there should really be a rule about 18 year olds not being in a commanding position, gods! does he even know there's an incursion from some young kingdom? its not like I can borrow the army to destroy the rebels like spring either, too much too loose this time, bloody boy, bloody beaurocracy making me follow his orders, I just hope when he takes command of the arche he's grew up a bit.... did he mention why he wants his army so quickly, or he being arkward on purpose?"

"I'm guessing he wants to make sure they all have matching hats and boots, you greeks are funny about that kind of thing....."

Timarchos took a minute to remember he was a greek now "hmm.... must write to father... get my scribe here would you?
And make the army ready to carry out its order, but dont let a word slip about how stupid that order is, wouldn't want it getting back to anyone that I might have badmouthed the Basileus' son now..."

"You really don't want to do that."

"Oh, really?" Sarpedon snarled. "Because I think I bloody well do!"

"Yes, well, you can't."

"I can't? I CAN'T?! Only the GODS can tell me what I can't do - are you a god, perhaps?! I'm the Basileus' son and heir! I have the gods on my side so no one can stop me. I'm invincible!"

Arsenios sighs.

"Be that as it may, your captains, capable enough as they may be, are not. Leaving the defence of your satrapy in their hands just because you desire battle is ill adviced. At the very least you should appoint an aid or two to for that first."

"But you don't understand! I'm the heir of an old Basileus, and I have yet to see battle. What do you think they would say of me if the Basileus suddenly died and I took his place now? A Basileus who hasn't commanded let alone even seen battle ever! They'd laugh at me! And what of the Ptolemaics then? How would our great nation look to them if it was lead by a battle-virgin as I am now? We'd be the laughing stock of the world! We'd carry no respect at all. I'm telling you, I must go to battle, and soon."

"I think you're being overly dramatic. So what if you've never fought a battle? It's obvious to anyone with half a brain that you're one of the most competent administrators in our whole Arche, if not even the most competent one, period. Besides, your father is a strong man. I don't think he'll die just yet. There's still time for you to gain your experience, even if you decide to wait."

Sarpedon walks out on the balcony and looks out over Sardis.

"You're right. Of course you're right, I know that! But I hate it just the same. Know that you're not speaking to deaf ears here: your council to get an aid is not a bad one. I think I will do so, if I could only find someone loyal to me, whom I could trust to take care of the whole satrapy once I've become the Basileus. But who would that be?"

"What about Cunobelinus?"

"Not sure. He's ambitious and seems reliable, but he also seem to be too headstrong, boastful and, perhaps, even having the slight trace of hubris. Don't get me wrong - I like him - but he strikes me more like someone who should focus on fighting, and leave actual management to the more capable to do so."

"Timarchos then? He led your army, and he did a fine job, didn't he?"

"Timarchos?! Ha! I bet he's pissed at me for denying him battle not only once, but twice. He may be fine as a commander of armies, but he's not someone I would put my trust in, nor do I think he would even accept the offer if I gave it to him. If he did, I think I then would just have someone to worry about. No, I don't think so."

"Then who?"

"That's just what I'm telling you. I don't know, and that's another thing I must have settled soon! I never thought I'd say this, but I hope my crowning will wait. I need a little bit more time."

The first snow, Pamphylia 270 BC

Cunobelinus and Achaikos were walking outside the fort through the forest.
"I thought it would be more glorious commanding an army through victory. But all I feel is regret for the ones that didn't make it. It's my fault. But I know thats not true. But I can't help it, Achaikos. All I see are the dead."Cunobelinus took a knee, watching a small red wing take off

"Maybe your not cut out for this line of work?"

"No, Its just... different than I expected. I can continue on. It was good enough for my father... If he could do it, so can I!" Cunobelinus said reassuringly with less angst in his voice, picking up some snow rolling it into a ball.

"Well good. And you did good. just don't let grief get to your head. It's not up to you who lives and dies, you can only point them in the right direction, and give em a good push for luck. Its all up to the individual, not you."

"I guess so, We'll how many get their first taste of command in an ambush and pull out a victory?" Cunobelinus turned to his loyal friend, tossing the snowball at a tree.

"Not many thats for sure, Luck of the Celts? Some way to get yer feet wet." Achaikos smirked.

Liberation of Hierosolyma!

After many years of high taxes, insults and much more the Jewish people wanted to get rid of the Ptolemaioi rule. Seeing Arche Seleukeia as an Allie against Ptolemaioi and a Protector of the Jewish people they sent an emissary to Seleukeia. The discussion over the Jewish Rebellion against the Ptolemaioi rule went on for many-many days. In some point Basileus had to even pretend that his ill and leave from the Council so he could commit himself fully to the discussion. After a month of talk an Agreement was made that the Rebellion against the Ptolemaioi will start after the Second Council Session. Having the Antiochos' support the Jewish emissaries started to recruit people in Babylon and Seleukeia to their cause. Since in those cities there were still a large population of their people it wasn't that hard to find volunteers and financial help. Now the Second Council Session is opened and this is the mark for the people to take arms and try to liberate Hierosolyma from the rule of the Ptolemaioi!

Antiocheia, Achaios Syriakos' residence

The aging man walks over to the window and takes in the sight of the new city that his brother had built for himself, although old and more used to a life of pleasure than danger, his body still holds some of the power he knew in his youth. "I've decided, Saul" he said to the jewish slave that was more of a friend to him than a mere slave he had bought an auction 15 years prior.
"Yes master?"
"I've decided that i want to give up this life of luxury, over the past few days i've been pondering what my legacy will be. Will people remember the warrior of my youth? I doubt it." He walks over and pulls the blade his father had made for him upon turning 16, the edges now blunted. "Have this sharpened and new armour made to fit my new girth! No longer will I just let the fate of the Arche lie in the hands of others..."

Sarpedon and Hilarion stands a bit away from the rest, speaking for themselves.

"- First satrap, then heir and now also Chancellor! Who would have thought that a man your age could acquire so many positions and offices of honour! Can't say you haven't deserved it, though. You may not have many friends among in the council, but I for one think they're fools. Our Arche will surely be great under your leadership."

- "Thanks, Hilarion. You're a good friend, and you've always stood by me through thick and thin. I wish I had more people like you."

- "You flatter me too much. What the hell do you expect? You picked me off the streets, fed me and gave me shelter. You saved my life, and my parents' life as well. I'm yours to command."

As he said it, Hilarion drew his sword, kneeled and bowed his head as he put the sword by Sarpedon's feet.

- "Get up, you fool! You know you don't have to bow to me. If I ever needed to command you to do something for me, I would be in serious trouble indeed! You'd do anything I ask you to anyway."

- "Hah! Too right you are. But where is that oaf Arsenios? He should be here by now!"

- "Arsenios? Did he come with us here? I thought it was that Celtic slave, what's his name... the one I bought from Pergamon the last time I was there? But if Arsenios is here, who's keeping things up back home?"

- "The magistrates of course. You left them in charge, don't you remember?"

- "Right! Of course that's what I did. Oh, and there's Arsenios! Finally."

Arsenios rides up and stops next to Sarpedon.

- "Here, take this parchment. On it is written a few orders to the magistrates, and an update on what has happened in the council. Let them know that I will return as soon as the results of the voting is done, and to prepare for my arrival with fresh maps and the latest reports you can find in the library. Everything must be ready for my work as a Chancellor to begin."

- "Right, sir, I will go right away!"

- "Farewell! Oh, and don't forget: you are to give the parchment to Eusebios in person, and no one else! Eusebios or the cooks will serve you for dinner!"

- "Got it, sir. Eusebios. Farewell, milord!"

As Arsenios rode off west, Hilarion and Sarpedon went back to their own quarters to rest.

Two men sat beside a smouldering fire, a number of tents surrounded them, the desert sands swirled around the air. The larger man was poking the fire with an old sword.

"You can stop that Heronius, you will never get it started with all this sand flying about"
"I know that, it just gives me something to do. I am starting to grow weary of this damnable crusade. Who the hell cares what a bunch of Jews want, why didn't the Basileus just take their money and tell them to get stuffed. Bloody pagans, one God indeed..."
"You will soon change your tune when we get to Hierosolyma first old friend. Just imagine the fighting eh, first we will have to scale the walls. Then the fighting in cramped streets clambering over the fallen to get at your enemy, not knowing whether that house on your right holds cowering peasants or enemy soldiers ready to jump out at you. Finally the town square, the enemy holding tight, fighting to the last man even though they know it's hopeless, that final brutal clash as we kill them one by one"
The Corinthian veteran allowed himself a smile.
"Yes, I remember you after that battle outside Asaak. You were high for days, battle is for you what poppy and wine were for me. That was a long time ago now. Remember me when I stopped smoking? How I used to lose my temper at the slightest provocation, and snap at the simplest request? What is happening to you is similar, you haven't fought in so long you aren't yourself"
Heronius smiled again, he was fully aware of this but he didn't want to hurt his masters feelings, such insightful thoughts were rare for Lykikos
"You are right, I guess the best thing for me to do is to drive the men forward, try to win the race."
"Of course I'm right you foolish Greek, don't feel bad though, we can't all have divine blood. Becoming King of the Jews will only be the start of my rise to Godhood."

The two men stared at the fire, now completely cold, one dreaming of battle, blood and death the other wondering how he should address Athena when he finally became a fully fledged God.

Antiocheia, City Streets

Two horsemen slowly made their way down the street. Their apparel made it quite obvious that they were not simply citizens – one of them wore fine garments, evidently Persian in design, and wore nothing more than a bronze lamellar cuirass in the way of armor. The other was clad in extravagant armor worthy of a Hetairoi.

“Just look at them, Polymarches. Going about their daily lives, only slightly aware of what plans are woven in the far away Seleukeia. Wouldn’t it be great to be so blissfully ignorant of the happenings ourselves?” The robed one gestured at the ever-shifting crowd, quickly reaching down for his pouch and tossing a coin to a nearby beggar. His companion shook his head slightly in disapproval.

“Whatever you say, Lord Mikithion.” A simple reply came.

Mikithion Kalamou Phoinikikes sighed softly. “Stop being so grumpy and enjoy the little joys of life. I’ve nearly let your ruin our visit to Athenai already, you and your mood won’t do the same to this trip.”

“Would you mind telling me where exactly will this trip take us, Lord Mikithion?” Polymarches inquired, leaning forward on his horse.

Mikithion did not hurry to respond – instead, the Strategos of Arche Seleukeia slowly tied his pouch shut, then leaned back, obviously relaxing his body. All the rest I can get. A journey to Hellas and back from Syria is exhausting. The Hellene muttered under his breath, before finally turning to his companion.

“We’ll ride north, to Kappadokia. Away from the war - we’re going to relax our body and spirit; I do not want some uneducated barbarian from Aigyptos ruining this.” Emphasis was put on the words ‘uneducated barbarian from Aigyptos’ – the otherwise calm and collected Hellene put as much venom as he could into those words.

Polymarches again shook his head in disapproval – he preferred staying close to the war, so that if need be, they could reach the stage of war quickly. Mikithion chuckled at his companion’s behaviour.

“Athena help me, Polymarches, you’re the worst companion to find at times of relative peace.”

"What the hell is that?"
"They call it a turban or something, I believe..."
"You are one strange Celt." retorted Achaikos
Cunobelinus glared at Achaikos"To Hell with you stupid Greek, look at your chapped lips. Mine are plump and beautiful!"Cunobelinus removed the piece covering his mouth to show his incredible lips, he had a ear to ear grin on his face. "All the ladies are going to be allll over me in Jerusalem."
"Enjoy the noses. Hope they won't get in the way! ha ha ha! Achaikos punched his friend in the shoulder
"Don't you think thats a myth?! Damnit I wanted to find a wife in that city. Maybe they don't all have massive noses. Its not really that bad to be honest... My son would be an exceptional hunter, with a great sense of-"
"If he can see in front of him... It might block his vision!"
"You are truly a bastard Achaikos. Where are we?"
"Good question shouldn't you know? You are supposed to be leading this army."
":daisy:... no I am seriously lost, You honestly think I know Judea? This country is one big flipping desert! The only thing that lets you SORT of know where you are is the occasional mountain or plateau. We must find us a guide before long. I am not getting surrounded by Ptolemy before we reach Jerusalem."
"Well we were going in the right direction before the sandstorm. We stopped and didn't change direction."Achaikos took his helmet off looked around and scratched his head"Hmmmm. We should be good." His look of neutrality turned to discontent"I am beginning to regret agreeing to come with you on this trip. You said it'd be a quickie. Tarsos was a quickie. This is just gruelling, and We haven't seen a friendly face since we left Syria. I miss the whores in Tarsos."
"Heh, isn't it time you found a wife? Then again the same could be said about me... We need to find ourselves some nice girls... And not the two we found in Kypros... They were insane. I still have a scar from the blonde one!" Cunobelinus shows a huge white slashing scar going from his wrist to his elbow"In any case, I want a legitimate son. Not some son of a whore."
"right you've got a whole set of them."
"ha ha ha, of course! Don't know where they are or what they look like though..."
"All that is going to change though?" enquired Achaikos
"Of course, with a wife I'm obliged by my peoples law to be faithful. Or she can leave me! Anyway, What do you think we should do when we get to Jerusalem? Sap the walls or use Towers?"
"Two sap points. Towers if we need 'em and afford the time." Achaikos nods as does his friend.
Cunobelinus now thinking of the massive task ahead takes a sip of water and pulls the cloth back over his face.

A group of twenty or so horsemen were travelling along the dirty road to Damaskos. In the middle of the group two men rode together, one looking miserable the other stony faced, staring straight ahead. The angry looking man finally turned and spoke.

"A dream, a bloody dream and you turn us away within sight of the city walls."
"Don't be angry Heronius, it's hard to explain."
"I'm not angry, that's just it. Two years ago I would have expected this from you, I thought you had grown up, I thought you could begin something and follow it through. I'm simply disappointed you are just the same as you always were. As soon as you got in sight of the city and realised what was in front of you, you made up a :daisy: story about a dream and legged it. What about those soldiers who have to find a way home with no pay? What about Parthiakes? He agreed to team up with you and you go and leave him in the lurch, you may have made an enemy there you know."
"It wasn't one dream Heronius, it was the same dream every night for a week. This was before we got to Hierosolyma, and remember I have never been there in my life. When I saw the city it was exactly as it was in my dream, thats when I realised that the dream would come true if we attacked the city."
"So we have to ride away like cowards, what will they say when we get back to Babylon? "There goes Lykikos, he dreamt he was going to die and ran away." And I will get tarred with the same brush, thank you very much. If word gets back to Corinth I may as well kill myself."
"I wasn't quite honest with you Heronius, I didn't dream I was going to die. I dreamt you were."

Lykikos rode ahead as Heronius stared after him

A small group of horsemen rode slowly through the Ishtar Gates into the city of Babylon. At the front of the group one man carefully held the reigns of anothers horse

"Well Polyxenidos, we are finally back in Babylon."
"Yes, it still smells the same, I can catch the faint odour of poppy behind the :daisy:."
"Well, we are near your house, the smell probably lingered"
"..."
"Can you see anything, the day is bright, I have to cover my eyes from the sun."
"No, nothing. I guess I have to face the fact I am blind. My career as a Strategos is over, I will never lead an army again. I am useless, I may as well go back to my old ways, passing the day with wine, poppy and prostitutes."
"Look, we both know you were useless as a general, we got lucky near Asaak. The reinforcements coming from the city meant we were able to surround the brigands, even then your orders lost us more men than we should."
"You have a strange way of trying to cheer me up Heronius."
"I'm not trying to cheer you up, I am making sure you don't start to wallow in self pity. You are a woeful general, but you are a more than capable politician, look at how you stirred up the last council meeting with your opposition to the sacking of Alexandria and your edict to vote in the Basileus' heir. You thought you would lose your head over that but here you are, alive. You are known now, you could become a force in Seleukeia, the Basileus knows you as a man of ideas not a man of courage and tactical nous."
"You are right, again. Seleukeia is not far, perhaps my career is not over. Perhaps it is only just beginning."

The horsemen rode through the city, the blind man more confident in his movement back in the city he had lived most of his life.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

I-K or TCV, could you move Lykikos back to Babylon for me through the console please?

Outside Antiocheia, a contingent of horsemen are riding towards a large army camp


"There it is! My brother's army! This brings back great memories of my younger years, so many men waiting on me to decide if and when they shall be called upon to make the ultimate sacrifice for the Arche!" The man at the head of the column, dressed in fine armour, exclaimed with a glint in his eye.
"My lord, i hear the rankers call you the invisible strategos!" The man by his side, dressed in traditional attire of a Jew replied.
"Is that so Saul? It seems i'll have to win their respect by acts of valour on the battlefield!"

":daisy:! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"
"I am sorry sir, they almost had me!"
"You cowardly Greek, you did not even have the decency to die like a man! Now you will not be seen as a traitor to the Ptolemy, but an agent working for me! Do you have any idea what this could mean?!" Cunobelinus turns to Achaikos and Alexandros "We leave Judea! Now. The Liberation armies will be taken and given to the new 'King' If he decides to remove us, we'll have to retreat to Syria. I'm going farther North to meet up with the Syrian Army. Thats well out of reach of Judea. Make arrangements, and we leave on the next morn. As for you..." Cunobelinus draws his sword and slices the saboteur's head off before any of the men could blink.

Sardis, Spring 266 BCE

Hilarion was talking with Sarpedon.

- "So, my friend, you have now done your duty as a Chancellor, and now you're leaving for the new Council Session. What do you expect?"
- "Words of praise from the old man, but disrespect or indifference from the rest. What else can I expect? If my work as a satrap hasn't impressed people already, then my work as a Chancellor and satrap isn't likely to make much change to that."
- "Really? You don't think that taking on a huge task like that at your young age and coming out way on top could at least have swayed some heads in there? Surely they must understand that it's no small matter to be the Chancellor!"
- "I'm pretty sure they understand that, deep down at least. However, there are those who oppose my success out of no better reason than that I've got a lot of it already. There was even talks about making the heir an commonly elected office, undoubtedly with the sole reason to take the claim to the throne away from me. They don't even care that I am the best man for the job!"
- "I know, and I agree. Even if a new law is passed that the heir should be elected, by right you should be the one anyway. Who has proven himself worthy of it more than you? None, I say. None."
- "Thank you for your support, Hilarion. I can control the masses with the snap of a finger, and if I so much as express my opinion publicly, it is held as literal and unquestionable truth. The economy has done nothing but prosper, and the incomes are up. No one can match me in these qualities, not even my father himself! So I wouldn't fear that people don't see me as good enough for the position. What I would fear is that people wouldn't vote for who is actually the best choice for the Arche, but who they like the most on a personal level."
- "I don't think they'd really be that petty."
- "Perhaps. However, I would prefer not to take any risks on this. Should it come up to a vote, I will certainly vote against it."

At that moment, the door opens and a young woman enters. Sarpedon turns to her.

- "Ah, you're here! Sit down and wait on the bed, I'll be with you in a minute."
- "Yes, master."

Sarpedon now turns back to Hilarion.

- "Hrrm, will you excuse me? I must have her one last time before I leave. You may as well go and prepare your work for while I'm gone."
- "Well, I have already prepared everything that needed preparing..."
- "That doesn't matter. Look over things again, make sure that there's nothing that you've missed. Oh, and send for the band on your way out would you? I'd like to have some music while I :daisy:."
- "Certainly."

Hilarion had almost left the room when he turned around again.

- "Sarpedon, I... oh." Hilarion started smiling. "You don't waste a second now, do you? Forget it. It wasn't important anyway, so I'll leave now. Just don't rush too much - I don't want to have sent the musicians here for no reason!"

Laughing a little for himself, Hilarion left.

On the border of Kappadokia, three days before the Council Session

"Mountains, oh great mountains! I wish I were in Baktria, Polymarches. They say there are beautiful, enormous mountains there." Mikithion sighed, sitting down on the ground. The Hellene was never particularly ceremonial; he took the fact his ancestor was a simple soldier in Megas Alexandros' army to heart. The Arche already has enough pompous Makedonian Hetairoi one-or-another, a hard working Hellene would be useful once in a while. Phoinikikes often told himself that.

Polymarches sighed as well, though did not sit down - he, unlike his Lord, did not rejoice in acting like a commoner. Even if he was only a part of Mikithion's retinue, many could confuse which was the Lord and which was the soldier if the two were dressed identically and tossed into a situation.

"Do you think we'll ever live long enough to have the chance to visit Baktria, Polymarches?"

"None can tell but the Gods, my Lord." Polymarches was taken a bit off guard by this sudden question after the prolonged silence; perhaps it was not the question but the look on Mikithion's face when the Hellene asked that shook him more. Mikithion looked depressed for some reason.

Was it really a good decision of mine to leave Athenai for Syria? Koinon Hellenon can always use another warrior against the Makedones, by now perhaps I'd be performing great deeds, honoring the Gods with a great victory, and not wasting my years away under the service of a Basileus I never cared for particularly. The end result would be the same, only that if I stayed in Athenai, I would care for what I fight... Perhaps I should indeed have ventured to Baktria instead, and lended the Satrap there a hand against the northern barbaroi.

"Lord Mikithion!"

The Hellene was forced to chase away those considerations, instead focusing on the man that was hurrying up the narrow path. It looked to be one of his personal guard, whom he had left behind to rest on their own - two men travelled faster than twenty, after all.

"What is it?" Mikithion lifted off the ground slowly. The soldier, who Mikithion recognized as Alexander, stopped for a second to catch his breath, before gesturing roughly towards the direction of Seleukeia.

"A Council Session is to begin soon in Seleukeia, you are expected to attend, my Lord."

Mikithion sighed. "Very well. It looks like our vacation is cancelled. Polymarches, hurry ahead and gather my guard, prepare them for a quick journey." With a quick bow, Polymarches hurried off. Alexander was about to follow, however Mikithion gestured him to stay.

"You shall accompany me, Alexander, and on our way tell me about the Basileus, the Council and Seleukeia itself. It will, after all, be the very first time I visit that place in person."

Theodoros was standing up on the balcony of the governor's residence of Ekbatana. He let his gaze wander across the marketplace right below him and the Strategos smiled to himself. He instantly turned around as he heard anoise behind his back and noticed a man, clothed in the garments of the villages' more privileged inhabitants.

"Klemonos!" he greated the visitor friendly and the addressed bowed, before speaking up himself: "Governor, it's good to have you back. Since you left for Olympia a lot of things happened. The Arche is in need of..."

Theodoros' mood seemed to change in an instant and he cut in on his friend: "The Arche has demanded a lot of me in the past. Just because some people weren't happy with my choice for a wife, they started to plot against me at my father's court. You know of that, Klemonos. I have turned my back on Seleukia years ago and I don't know if I'm ready to return."

Klemonos looked to the ground and answered: "You are right, Sire, but you know your father had no fault in it. I am sure he was disappointed that you did not attend these 3 council sessions he assembled."

Theodoros spoke up quickly: "Well I had good reasons every time. This last time I was in Olympia while the council session was taking place and this town has kept me busy and..." Klemonos now interrupted his Governor: "Theodoros. You know, all of these are simple excuses for not wanting to be there. I know you care about the town but the Arche needs people of your skill and talents. We will do fine here if you don't forget Ekbatana."

Theodoros sighed but he knew the older man was right and he was happy to have friends that were close enough to speak up against his opinion. He decided to change the matter of discussion: "So... what about the threat to the north?"
"We don't know if it is a threat", Klemonos answered, "but the towns people are getting nervous. They fear an attack. That's another thing you won't be able to do anything about if you stay here. Think about it, my friend." With that he bowed once more and left the balcony and Theodoros to his thoughts.

...

Some hours later Theodoros called for one of his servants. "Eppekos, see that these two messages reach their destinations. One is for the chancellos and the other for the Basileus." Eppekos nodded and went to work.

Somewhere between Kappadokia and Seleukeia

"How did the Council Session go, Lord?"

"Awfully. It was dreadfully boring, everyone just bickered a lot. I could swear I fell asleep at least once. I'm seriously considering never showing my face there again. Let the Basileus and his lot think what they want, but politics are not for me." Mikithion yawned, leaning forward on his horse. The journey back to Kappadokia was much slower, since they were not in a hurry to get anywhere.

"Lord, but you cannot just abbandon your duties!" Polymarches frowned, in his concern nearly riding on top of a travelling old man. Mikithion hurriedly appologized the aged traveler, tossing several coins from his ever-open pouch.

"I didn't leave Athenai to sit in some chamber, surrounded by men of various backgrounds and their barbaroi servants. As a matter of fact, if this is all I get, I would've done better in my home city, where at least I was certain that I was surrounded only by Hellenes. There I didn't need to wonder how many of them would be willing to drive a sword through me for being from Hellas."

Polymarches only sighed. "Whatever you say, Lord Mikithion."

Mikithion yawned again, then wiped a tear from his left eye. "Don't worry, life shall soon become more interesting and we'll have plenty of chances to prove ourselves. I hope to see battle soon. If there was one part of the Session that interested me, it was that an edict was agreed on by which the Arche shall finally enter war against Pontos."

With this, silence fell upon the small group of riders, soon followed by night.

About a week after the messengers were sent out, one returned to Theodoros' residence and after some time of thinking, the governor called on Klemonos. As the older man entered the Strategos' chambers, Theodoros looked up to greet him. "My friend, I have received news. My father gave me a mission and I will take it. I have already ordered my servants to ready my bodyguard, for I will leave shortly but there is something I have to ask of you first."

"What is it?"

"I will leave Laodike and the kids here. Watch over them as you'd watch over your own family, swear that to me." The older man nodded and bowed: "I will protect them with my life if needed. May Mithras bless you on your way."

"Thank you. May he bless you and this town. Until we meet again." And with that Theodoros left his chambers to join his bodyguard, already assembled in the courtyard.

266BC, seige of Jerusalem


Cadayren was annoyed, he always hated bringing bad news to people, especally when they could fire him, groaning, he entered Timarchos' tent to find a mess of reports on a table, Timarchos behind them, starring at his sword

"sir.....?"

"I was just wondering, equal numbers, they have better quality troops, and I have no gold for mercinaries, how in the name of the gods am I supposed to capture this place? in tact? without killing any jews on purpose, which a seige will do?"

"Surely sir, we can attack"

"we can offer battle, but unless we have our choice of ground, they will win, or at least kill too many of us so I end up like that guy from eprius.."

"May I ask why sir?"

"cavalry, we have lots, its bloody useless in a city, and their commander, he's too good, so long as he's alive he'll inspire the cities defenders, and I certantly don't want to send men into a bloodbath to end this quick, lets face it, I have years left, a satrapy is worth waiting for"

"I see sir, well, if your going to end up a satrap, then all the jew's here will be yours, may I suggest calming your subjects down?
their too eager to liberate the city, caught five of em' trying to brake through our own lines so they could attack it themselves" he added, as as if on cue from timarchos' stare,
"what do you want to do with them?"

"ach, how I wish this was just another feild battle" Timarchos moaned, rubbing his head with both palms "ok, put those five in an aggressive patrol anywhere nearby that starts to feel a little bit Egyptian... how are the ram's coming?"

"all six started, I take it you have a plan for them sir?"

"yes, I'm making my own wall, so when the enemy attack us, they'll hopefully get cut off, then cut to peices."

Timarchos looked at his statue of the little fat man "I just wish they don't take too long to try and attack us, we seige for any longer than a year and my subject's will ether start to starve, or grow too restless they end up attacking without any plan... damn those walls and building, they really ruin war, it's much more fun without all this waiting around."

a now smiling Cadayren nodded, "I think we can both remember the good old days, when all we had to do was charge uphill into a wall of spearpoints, your right sir, those damn buildings ruin war, completly spoil the fun of it, but isn't the whole greek system of war a case of hurry-up-so-you-can-wait anyway?"

Timarchos grinned "nice way of putting it, have to use that one myself sometime, deffinantly describes how we got here well enough"

Ioudia, Autumn 266 BCE

"My lord! You're bleeding!"
"Merely a flesh wound, Alexandros." Achaios replied with a fiery passion in his eyes. "Take the a unit of Prodromoi and chase away those blasted steppe raiders, they're giving the Jews a hard time!"
"Aye sire." With that Alexandros master of horse to Achaios Syriakos, elder brother to the basileus and son to the great Seleukos, spurred his horse away towards a group of waiting horsemen calling orders as he went.
"Sire! The enemy leader has commited his own unit to the fray against the Thureophoroi!"
"Excellent! Men form up on me, we shall turn their flank. A jug of finest wine to the man that brings me that brigand's head."

2 hours later, the command tent of the army

"That's the last of them killed my lord."
"Excellent Alexandros, sit and have a cup of wine, you've earned it, i lost three bodyguards in the battle, any men you could recommend?"
"Well sir, there is that lad that killed the brigand leader, in fact, he's outside just now, shall i call him in?" Alexandros replied, taking a deep draught from the wine in his hand.
"Isn't he a bit young? Well send him in anyway,i owe him a jug of wine." With that a tall man of around 23 entered the tent and bowed to Achaios. "General, you honour me greatly."
"What do you think of him Alexandros?"
"I believe he'll do my lord" Alexandros replied with a wry smile.
"My boy, how is your riding ability?"
"Pretty good my lord, my family are horse breeders from Antiocheia."
"
"Good, the i assume you have a horse?"
"Yes my lord."
"How would you like to ride in my bodyguard?"
"I would be honoured my lord."
"Excellent, return here tomorrow morning and I'll give you orders and have you equipped. Dismissed!" With that the young man left the tent beaming.
"Sire, wouldn't you like to know his name?" Alexandros said with a smile once again.
"I assumed you would know..."

Two phalangites in Sarpedon Syriakos' army were talking.

- "So we're off to fight again, are we?"
- "Aye, that we are. You're not nervous, are you?"
- "No. Well, yes, a little, but you're always a little nervous before a fight, aren't you?"
- "Most are, and there's no shame in it. But then there are others. I haven't fought them myself, but those barbaroi, the Galatians, they have these soldiers, I hear. They don't fear anything or anyone, they're like madmen living for the battle. They fight naked, you know. Naked. Can you imagine that?"
- "Naked?! That's insane! That must make them easy to kill, right?"
- "Actually, that's the thing: they're not. I've heard stories about them, see? I've heard that they can take javelins through their chest, rip it out and then just throw it right back at you, before they continue to fight."
- "That's impossible!"
- "I'm not so sure. They say they take something, a drug or what-have-you, before battle that makes them impervious to pain. They'll fight till you chop their heads off. There's no other way to kill them."
- "Sweet Zeus! And we're up against these guys?!"
- "Not sure. We could be, but we just don't know. I hear lord Sarpedon's requested some spies to check out how things are. If his request is granted, then we shall know for sure. If it isn't... well, we'll find out when we get there."
- "Yeah. Hey! Don't you think Cadeyrn knows more about these guys? He's supposed to be a Galatian himself, isn't he?"
- "Yeah, you're right! We should ask him more about these guys. Perhaps he even knows if the Pontics are likely to have them in their armies?"
- "It couldn't hurt to ask."
- "Then lets go find him, shall we?"

And so they went off towards the barracks, where they knew they would find Cadeyrn training together with lord Sarpedon himself.

On the border of Kappadokia (again)

"...And look! That's a rare mountain plant, useful for curing many diseases..."

"It looks like simple grass." Polymarches raised an eyebrow, looking as the old man carefully worked with the supposedly rare plant.

"Your eye is not that of a herbalist, so let me do my work and keep your oppinion to yourself until we reach a battlefield!" The old Hellene yelled, then shooed Polymarches away from the plants. Mikithion, who was observing the plant-picking with interest, turned away quickly to hide his laughter as his spear carrier wiped the mud off his armor - the herbalist had thrown several of his less precious plants after him.

"I don't understand, why are we having this old fool follow us?"

"Because this 'old fool' is a herbalist, and herbalists can be useful in many cases. You'll be thankful we met him after we do battle with Pontos. I've heard people like him can tend to wounds with great skill." Mikithion responded, peeking over the old man's shoulder as he spoke. "And just so you know, Polymarches, our 'old fool' has a name."

"I'd be happy if Lord Mikithion shared it, as I must remind that no one else of your guard has had a lengthy conversation with our herbalist. For entirely understandable reasons, too, as no one else I know of has such a toleration for long boring rambling like my Lord, even though it seems to vanish in the court." Polymarches angrily glanced at the back of the herbalist when the old man grumbled something.

"I could swear I already introduced my new companion to everyone... Regardless, this is Lysimakes Polinedus."

"Honored to serve you, Lord Mikithion. It warms my heart that some young men are still interested in such arts." Lysimakes shot a killing glare at Polymarches at the mention of 'young men'.

My retinue grew to two people, and they already can't get along. Athena help me if it increases further...

The Story of

Nikarchos Asterias Syriakes

https://img84.imageshack.us/img84/6522/wotbls0.png



Chapter 1 - Overview

- Nikarchos Asterias Syriakes -

Nikarchos Asterias Syriakes' - born 291 BC in Seleukeia - ancestors lived in Pella and his father and grandfather fought side by side with Alexander the Great and Seleukos I Nikator, anywhere across the world.

In Arkadia at Megalopolis and defeated the unconquerable Spartans

https://img372.imageshack.us/img372/...lis331bym0.png


in Ioudaia at Raphia to to put the insolent Ptolemaioi in their place

https://img401.imageshack.us/img401/...raphia2jn9.png


at Tyros to batter down the gates of this important phoenician City and wrest it from persian dominance

https://img300.imageshack.us/img300/5830/random1qj9.png


and in Phyrgia in the Massacre of Ipsos - where Antigonos I. Monophthalmos died at the hand of seleukid Soldiers

https://img253.imageshack.us/img253/3018/random2oz2.png



Nikarchos was young and had yet to prove his valour in battle. He studied philosophy and mathematics at the great Akademia in the capital of the Arche Seleukeia. Soon it turned out that he was a very intelligent man, sharp and charismatic. Though he was not of great vitality he grew up to a sinewy man, able to swing a sword and bend a bow.

At the age of 25 Nikarchos was appointed by the Basileus to the rank of Strategos. At the royal council the Kleronomos Basileion, Sarpedon Syriakos, invited him to join his army in Phyrgia. Greatly honoured Nikarchos set out for Ipsos, looking forward to serving his Lord and hoped he could prove himself in battle against the enemies of the Empire.

In the year of 266 BC he started with the preparations of his journey.

And so begins the story of Strategos Nikarchos Asterias Syriakes.............

The Story of

Nikarchos Asterias Syriakes

https://img84.imageshack.us/img84/6522/wotbls0.png



Chapter 2 - in preparation for the voyage to Phyrgia


Nikarchos walked trough the gates of the royal councils' residence and squinted his eyes due to the scorching sun. Divine Marduk meant it almost too good with his worshipers and let the sun burn down remorselessly.

https://img520.imageshack.us/img520/2430/palacebm5.png


Nikarchos rambled through the park, buried in thought, and planned his journey to Ipsos. He thought about being accompanied by all of his bodyguards and of course his servants. The journey through Kilikia an Phyriga was very dangerous, so he could use every able man available to be on his side.

And not only the men but also the gods of course! Shortly after reaching his mansion and giving all orders to his servants, he left heading the Temple of Marduk. But not the one in the City. He prefered the great Megas Naos Mordekou out-of-town. A place built by one of his ancestors.

https://img262.imageshack.us/img262/...rtemis3yi2.png


Marduk, Lord of the Gods and master of the sky was the protector of Mesopotamia and Babylonia, where his greatest temples have been built many generations ago.

The temple guard already awaited him. So Nikarchos went to the shrine of the father of the gods and begged him for a secure voyage to Phyriga. And he hoped to find out more about his future.

https://img371.imageshack.us/img371/...rtemis2bp3.png


For at least 2 hours he just sat there on his horse and waited for a sign of Marduk. Everything around him was silent, he didn't apperceive the noise the temple guard made nor the soft breeze on his face. There was just him and his thoughts.

https://img152.imageshack.us/img152/...rtemis1sn7.png


He felt the presence of the divine at this place. He tried to absorb it with every fibre of his body.
And then, suddenly... he saw a dazzlingly white light in his head and a picture appeard in his mind. He had a vision...

He stood on a battlefield like a ghost with one of his bodyguards. It was a field of death, a terrible sight. Tens of thousands soldiers lay dead on the ground, there were disembodied extremities widely scattered and here and there heavily injured men screamed theirselfs hoarse. When he saw macedonian ensigns on the ground he became frightened.

https://img116.imageshack.us/img116/...lefieldmb6.png


What does this sign from Marduk say to him? Should it be his fate to defeat the macedonians in the west and merge them into the Seleukid empire? Or was it a sign of his own fall? After all he was of makedonian origin! Maybe he was about to become a betrayer and fight the Arche Seleukeia on the Macedonian side in order to re-establish Alexanders empire? Nah, could not imagine that, there was no man more loyal to the Arche Seleukeia than him. It must be the first of these cases...

Whatever his fate was, the future will show .....

Two men walked out of the council chamber in Seleukeia

"Well Polyxenidos, where to?"
"Let's head back to Babylon for a few days, I wish to sleep in my own bed again... I feel you looking at me Heronius, what's wrong?"
"Just wondering, you seem to have held back the last couple of days in there. I expected you to savage young Mysiakes, remind the Basileus how you wanted to fight that large Ptolemaic army that have come back to haunt us and demand we focus on one area at a time as we seem so overstretched as you warned would happen."
"Hmmm, perhaps once I may have done so. What is the point of doing so now? The satisfaction of being right, I know when I'm right and care little if others know. No, I see myself nudging the Empire in gentle pushes. I'm a blind man, if I start shouting off about things I will be ignored as "that crazy fool who can't see." I have to be careful. Anyhow you are the one who told me not to be too harsh with that brash easterner, and you know Mikleia thinks I should tread carefully."
"Since when have you listened to what women think, even your wife?"
"Remember there was a time I wouldn't take any advice, even yours. She has grown up amongst the Greek ruling class, she knows how to get her way without drawing attention to herself. Don't worry, I won't be asking her advice on military matters, that's still your domain."

The two men walked in the direction of the stables, ready for a few days away from the politics of running an Empire.

Somewhere in Kappadokia

The wooden chair on which Mikithion sat creaked loudly as the Strategos leaned back, placing all his weight on the rear legs. Brushing some dust off of his easily noticeable robe, he cast an angry glance at the ceiling, before resuming reading the letter from Sarpedon Syriakes for what must've been the twentieth time that evening.

Hearing a silent knock on the doors that separated his small, humble room from the rest of the inn, the Hellene answered with a 'Come in, Polymarches'. Lysimakes and Polymarches were the only two people that he had allowed to disturb him, and the old herbalist was asleep in the room next to his; Mikithion could hear the honorable man snoring. Thus, Polymarches was the only one who could be behind the doors.

Indeed, the doors carefuly opened and Polymarches stepped into the room. "My lord, I appologize for disturbing you, but Alexander has returned, and he reports that Sarpedon Syriakes..."

"Yes, I know that we have his permission to join his army. And if that is the case, then Basileus must've approved my request to be assigned to the Pontic frontier." When Polymarches raised his eyebrows in surprise, Mikithion gestured with his free hand to the letter. "The Kleronomos asked me to take command of his army temporarily, until either he can reasume his position at its head, or that Makedonian joins us, Nikarchos Syriakes or whoever..."

Polymarches' eyebrows rose even further, and when they could no longer move up, the spear carrier expressed his surprise with his eyes. He went through a quick change of emotions as the surprise became awe, and awe became joy.

"You have been appointed to lead a Royal Army temporarily, my lord? That is great news indeed, a fine chance to prove your worth!"

Mikithion only yawned. "Indeed it is. Tell the men to be ready early in the morning, and send out one of them to Antiocheia. Not Alexander, let him rest. Tell whoever you send to... Wait, nevermind. Send him to my room some ten minutes from now, I'll have his orders then. And rest well yourself, we'll have a long way to go to reach Sarpedon's army."

Without even trying to distinguish his joy, Polymarches left the room. Mikithion yawned again, before asuming a more comfortable position for writing and beginning to scribble something on a piece of paper.

The Syrian Army's Fort, west of Mazaka.
Winter 266 BC

Everything was calm now. His army was experienced and loyal. Things ran smoothly and there were no worries, except for the occasional new recruits, but each captain could handle them effectively.
Wearing no armor, only fur to protect him from the winter morning cold, Aratos was walking towards the small wooden tower. Greeting, on his way, the few men who were already awake and the patrolling soldiers, he arrived at the tower. When Aratos reached the top, the tower guard automatically greeted and climbed down.
Aratos, looked up, closed his eyes, inspired the fresh air and sighed.
One more day. Soon the army will march up and enter Pontic lands. Opening his eyes, he looked north and observed the thin fog that covered and tried to slide down the rugged rocky peaks of the mountains. Soon the sun will climb up and destroy the fragile mist.
The camp was well positioned, away from the frontiers, though close enough for the planned surprise invasion. Our enemy will hardly suspect anything. The assault must be quick and effective, Aratos thought. Once the Pontic problem is dealt with, he could go south and aid against those damned Egyptians. Hell! He should be there right now! One of these days he’ll soon have to return to Persepolis, he misses his homeland and his son must have a persian education. Then, he won’t be able to avenge his father as he correctly wanted. His son was more important now and Aratos knew it, since the day he first held his baby on his arms.

Cadeyren laugh shook the night "Across a desert? well, if they want to drag their troops to their death, I say we let them, they'll need to found a new city of the dead before they get here though"

Timarchos however looked at the scout that had just informed him of a large army advancing from Egypt, he spoke "where are they?"

"About one seasons march out" replied the scout in front of him

"Look, boss, if that were a celtic army, then it would literally melt in that heat.."

"But its not, I guess we'll deal with it if it manages to cross the desert, I just hope half of the men you saw were an illusion, cause if not this thing will die faster than it began."

Timarchos looked around his tent, "Gods I wish I was rich enough to buy some merc's.." he looked at his scout "go do a whip round, jews are supposed to be rich right? see if we can't get enough for something!"

Cadeyren looked sceptical "Thracians? we can't affort them..."

"I know, I'll get anything I can afford, we lack any heavy infantry, and now I really am starting to miss them"

"You've never commanded any"

"Not for greeks I havn't" a smile crossed Timarchos lips, Cadeyren stayed quite, by unspoken consent, neither wished to intrude on the others memories of wars gone by unless it was offered, but the Celt seriously doubted anyone east of Antioch even knew what true heavy infantry actually was.

"I am a newly wed! I should be at home caring for my wife, not killing young lads..."
"You're losing your touch?! Bloody Hell Cuno, you are a General, and a soldier first, a husband second."
"Achaikos, does it really matter who commands these men? They have my best friend as their supreme commander. I am just here for the ride."
"Not true, you command the cavalry! What if Aratos falls? Who will command them then? You will, and you are the most qualified for such a job, you know these men, you saved their lives at Pamphylia."
Cunobelinus looks up at the sky "Perhaps... You've convinced me... My wife is young. Maybe with my time here away she will bud into a beautiful flower... I'll fight. For Galatia, my wife, and for the men."
"That's all I ask, brother. That's what all men fight for...Home, family, and the men next to you."

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

I wrote this sort of in honour of Remembrance Day, well the last speech anyway.

The Gates of Ipsus

“Well that wasn’t a pleasurable experience.” Mikithion groaned, making his way through the gates to the town of Ipsus, Polymarches and Lysimakes at his side and his bodyguard behind him. They had rode from Kappadokia to Ipsus without any prolonged stops; Mikithion was only glad that hopefully, he wouldn’t need to make such wild rides like from Kappadokia to Seleukeia or this journey. The army was supposed to move slower than a small party of horsemen, after all.

Polymarches only grunted something in response. The spear carrier was still grieving over the fact Mikithion’s power over the Royal Army of Sarpedon was so short-lived; this temporary promotion seemed to Polymarches like the gates to higher rank, glory, money and just about anything else, gates that have just been closed.

Mikithion himself did not pay that much attention to this brief interruption in his otherwise uneventful life as a Strategos; ever since sending out Alexander to Seleukeia with his request of reassignment, the Hellene could only imagine himself earning glory in this war. If he was lucky, he’d get to prove his mettle in a battle under Sarpedon and the Kleronomos would put in some words for him in the Council, maybe even enough for Mikithion to be assigned his own troops. If he was very lucky, then he might even become an Aid for the Satrap.

Both those options were appealing, and as he rode into Ipsus, Mikithion allowed himself a weary smile – this war was indeed a gift from Athena.

Sidon market distict, 265

Cadeyren and Timarchos were looking at armour and swords, Cadeyren, although used to loud noise, kept his fingers in his ears when nobody was talking to him, eventually Timarchos had enough, it was starting to spoil his good mood

"ok, I give in, whats wrong old friend? nobody stabbed you did they? its not some Galatian thing when you kill another celt?"
"No, neither of them, its just, I never did like the market, always seemed to me too much like chaos, not like a battle or camp, then theres order to the noise.."
"chaos? this is economics!"
"gah! have you decided yet? I really need a drink"
"gods, cheer up, if I'm not mistaken I've just earned myself a promotion... that means I'm buying"
a small smile crossed Cadeyrens face, Timarchos picked out a new curiass and helmet to replace his old dented kit and a new Xiphos, and asked the clerk how long it would take too make, being told it would be ready before the end of the week.

Timarchos turned to Cadeyren
"before we go, have the new lads settled in ok?"
"ok? for some weird reason they love you, I can only guess that they havn't got to know you yet..."
"ha, or the burly galatian that wanders round after me making sure I've killed people properly"
"its not my fault your technique is sloppy, you get the hang of it and I can get on with my proper job of making sure the men kill people properly"

happy his friend was back to normal, his promotion probably secure, and the city was safe Timarchos wasted no time in telling his messangers that his troops could take the week off, for he deffinantly planned too

barrakcs at Sidon, 265

Timarchos woke early, not by choice, the banging and crashing these new recruits were making during training was driving him mad, and no matter how often he threatened them with disembowlment, castration and evisaration, they still woke him during early morning drills

swearing, he rolled out of bed as a constast series of boots stamping on the ground shaked the thin walls of the barracks, he poked his head out of his window and shouted after the goup
"Gods! That should sound like a drum! none of you are eating till you get this right!"
A slave came running to dress him, Timarchos busied himself by looking at his statue of the smiling fat man and again wondered what it could be, he decided it was some kind of Indian version of Zeus, he was then just deciding on what to eat that morning, as that was the other thing the statue reminded him of, when Cadeyren came striding into his room, looking rather cheerful,
"Of course sir, if you trained them celtic style, they wouldn't need to all look the same when they marched, so their captian wouldn't have to march them round every morning, so you could get some more sleep..."
Timarchos looked thoughfully at this before declaring "No, I've got a better idea, pack up everything thats mine, I'm moving out!"
"To where?"
"Have not decided yet, but since I'm planning on spending winter in the city, I'm sure I can find a nice house of some Egyptian merchant that wont need it back for a while, fancy some house shopping today?"
"If you make me decorate this place, I will hurt you...."
"no no, just need your opinion on whats defendable, oh, and keep an eye out for a pool, or three, I want something thats kinda near the centre, preferable a nice garden, maybe a libary too...oh and somewhere for all the slaves...." A happily glazed look clossed over Mysiakes' face
"And the new recruits, who'll inspect them?"
Timarchos was slightly put out by the question... "you will, three times a week, I will once a month, so long as they finish their training before the next term starts, I don't really care, given the amount of time its taking them to get marching right, it will be a while."
A momment passed
"....and good square frontage too... and a wall, I don't want to have to lend people wine when they run out....."

the Story of

Nikarchos Asterias Syriakes

https://img84.imageshack.us/img84/6522/wotbls0.png



Chapter 3 – The taste of blood


https://img246.imageshack.us/img246/...esidenzpy4.png


Nikarchos was still confused and thinking about his vision at the Temple of Marduk when he arrived at his manor house outside Seleukeia. He still did not know what the god intended to say to him, but he came to the conclusion that whatever his fate ought to be, he would find the answer in the west. Nikarchos walked in the gardens of his mansion while his servants and Somatophylakes prepared whatever was necessary for the long journey.

Two days later the fellowship left the manor and were heading for Assyrie, in other words Nikarchos followed Sarpedon Syriakos’ invitation to Ipsos. The journey was quite eventless and so the men enjoyed the beauty of the countryside and Nikarchos used the time to write messages to Seleukeia, where his messenger Galaktíon represented him in the royal council.

https://img517.imageshack.us/img517/2703/bridgenr8.png

They crossed Assyrie and went towards Karkathiokerta, where they intended to overwinter. Karkathiokerta was a small town at the border to the lands of the Hay, who were good friends and faithful allies of the Arche Seleukeia. There they would be save and could get some rest. Though the journey passed quietly, it was very strength-sapping and the men could use a proper bed to sleep in. And maybe some pretty girls keeping company with them. Just in time, when winter announced himself by laying a white coat over the land, Nikarchos and his men arrived.

https://img155.imageshack.us/img155/...iokertadf0.png

As anything but the gods must pass, spring displaced winter and the fellowship could move on. They followed the mountains westwards till they arrived in Mazaka. There Nikarchos learned that the Kleronomos Basileion could no longer wait for him, already started war with Pontos and already gained great victories. Nikarchos had missed the first strike. So he decided to stay a bit longer in Mazaka and let his men rest. Though in the first place he was quite sad about the fact, that the pontic war has been started without him, because he was eager for learning about the art of warfare from Sarpedon Syriakos, this coincidence turned out to become his chance to prove himself. Only a few days later, peasants from the countryside went to town and brought bad news. A looting and plundering army of the Haikh, a people living in the lands of Hayasdan and Armenia, were laying waste on the lands near the border to the Kingdom of the Hay. An army of the Hay was chasing them, but the pillagers already were on seleukid lands, so the commander of the Hay, captain Koyroun asked permission to march on Seleukid territory. Nikarchos allowed it under the term that he would be the one leading the allied Armies. 264 BC he left Mazaka with 27 Somatophylakes and rode to the border to Pokr Hayk.

https://img117.imageshack.us/img117/9268/map2km7.png

Very soon they detected the enemies and challenged them to fight. The Hay warriors did outnumber the Haikh, but Nikarchos was still quite nervous. This would be his first battle at all. And as if this wasn't enough he was the leader of this army. On the other side of the hill, an army of over 600 men assembled, and every single one of these skilled warriors wanted to kill him. Not very encouraging thoughts, but still he made up his mind to ride into the battle and fight at the very frontline.

https://img352.imageshack.us/img352/...ebattlebh1.png

When the warriors were ready and Nikarchos had finished his little speech about protecting countries and families, he sent forth the skirmishers

https://img222.imageshack.us/img222/...rmisherec0.png

and followed them with his cavallery on the right flank, while the armenian and caucasian spearmen marched behind the skirmishers.

https://img141.imageshack.us/img141/...rmenhayfk2.png

The Haikh archers sent a deadly rain of arrows, but they were to few to make a great difference.

https://img153.imageshack.us/img153/...archersrt1.png

When the armies crashed into each other the armenian spearmen of the Hay could hold the line against the caucasian spearmen of the Haikh. Both sides proceeded with a barbarous cruelty Nikarchos has never dreamt of. When its about theirs lives, men brutalize beyond example.

https://img360.imageshack.us/img360/...nvscauccq0.png

After getting past the first shock, Nikarchos decided to interfering the battle and attacked the rear of the Haikh spearmen with his Somatophylakes, retreated and attacked again. Once he had killed a man, he was not afraid anymore. It seemed to him, that not himself lead his body into battle. He watched himself slaying enemies and spilling their blood, heard them scream from far away and watched their bodies being crushed by horses.

https://img201.imageshack.us/img201/...ofthespdd1.png

Under this pressure the enemies soon began to seek refuge in flight. The Haikh commander tried to turn the fortunes of war himself, but died by the spears of the Hays caucasian spearmen.

https://img116.imageshack.us/img116/...pproachxr5.png

Also the Haikh skirmishers, more peasants than warriors, were no match for the heavily armed Somatophylakes and were slain quickly.

https://img74.imageshack.us/img74/52...hehorsenq8.png

Many fell by the very hand of Nikarchos himself.

https://img92.imageshack.us/img92/79...attacksyh4.png

All in all it was a pure massacre. When the fog of war vanished, Nikarchos’ riders had killed over 200 enemies. No Somatophylax died in this battle.

https://img255.imageshack.us/img255/...victoryvi5.png

https://img243.imageshack.us/img243/...rbattleed1.png

Nikarchos let his men set up a camp. It was too late in the evening to go back to Mazaka and he wanted to rest here and return the next day. This night Nikarchos dreamt of blood and death. He had killed men for the first time in his life, and he was sure that this was not the last time.

The Hay army returned to their lands, thankful for the help of their seleukid friends. This battle was an event that should deepen the relationship of these two nations.


End of the third chapture

Just outside the 1st Syrian Army fort East of Sinope

":daisy:! It's bloody cold!! Why can't we just go back to Galatia?!" Cried Achaikos, jogging on the spot.
"Quit your whining you dirty Greek. We just got here!" Laughed Cunobelinus
":daisy: cold... :daisy: trees... :daisy: country..."
"You just don't shut up do you Achaikos? Quit yer bloody whining. You are my best friend in the entire world. But even now you are starting to tick me off. We are here for a reason... Lets enjoy it?Cunobelinus picks up some snow and throws it at Achaikos
"Ha ha ha, Ok I guess so.. I figure, War is 2 things... 80% boredom and 20% excitement. The trick is to be prepared for that 20%, right?" Achaikos theorized.
"Maybe, quit it with the philosophy, lets have some fun! Achaikos was hit square in the forehead by Cunobelinus Ha-ha-ha! Thats 2! I'm winning!"
"Alright alright... whatever you say... but for that one, I'm not going to save you stupid ass if you need it in Sinope!"The two young men continue throwing snowballs at eachother for quite some time before they are interrupted by a scout

"SIR! No evidence of Pontic forces around Sinope, It seems we have a clear run to the city! Also, Nolon was able to enter the city and the garrison is just the Pontic King. We heard that a force West of Sinope is moving east, and could possibly reinforce the King."
"Hmmmm, We move now! We don't have time to wait for Alexandros and Anyon here. We'll make seige and wait for them there, but we must be quick to prevent that Army from digging in the city, or else they will hold the walls, and we will never get in. Achaikos, prepare the men, tell them we move out at dawn. The young Commander smirks Alexandros better hurry his ass up!"

Ankyra, Streets

"Isn't it great, Polymarches, to trod around the city we won by our sweat and blood? Glorious conquerors enjoying the fruits of their work." Mikithion sighed, leaning back on his horse. Lysimakes was nowhere to be seen - the old man was not a warrior, and he had stayed behind in the camp, wandering off to collect some herbs as the battle raged. This only made Mikithion less worried about his herbalist, as the old man seemed to be protected by the Gods during his wandering. On their road to Ipsus, for example, Lysimakes wandered off away from the group during the night, and returned only next morning, when Mikithion had lost all hope of meeting the old herbalist again.

Polymarches simply nodded. The Spear Carrier seemed to be in a good mood - he was a man of battle, and the storming of Ankyra apparently made his week. To the point he actually allowed Lysimakes get away with wandering off and not comming to battle without any grumbling, something his Hellene lord made note and approved of.

"I wonder how is Alexander doing in Seleukeia... He never struck me as the diplomatic sort, but he seems to really enjoy traveling a lot." The Spear Carrier finally grumbled under his nose. This time, it was Mikithion who did not answer.

After a moment of silence, Mikithion and Polymarches made their way to the gate that the Peltastai under Mikithion had battered open. Slowly, Mikithion dismounted his horse, walking through the still open gate. Plymarches followed, also dismounted. The battle was just won, and no one had even moved the ram away yet.

"Send someone to congratulate Kleronomos Sarpedon of this victory and his slaying of the Pontic general - if rumors have it correctly, he killed the fool himself. And find Lysimakes - I'll be at ease to know the old man is fine." With those words, Mikithion dropped on the grass, leaned against the wooden wall and moved his helmet on his eyes, falling asleep soon after. Polymarches could only shrug at such an odd choice for rest and go off to carry out the orders. He dealt with it quickly, then immediately returned to watch over the sleeping Mikithion - after all, there was no telling what the Keltoi that still inhabbited this town could come up with.

At the border to Ptolemaoi Territory, south of Sidon

Strategos Theodoros Syriakos moved around in his command tent, waiting for the messenger he called. His bodyguard was stationed outside and suddenly a man opened the entrance to state: "He's here, Sire."

Theodoros looked up: "Well, let him in, Akhaios." The bodyguard nodded and guided a young man into the tent. The messenger bowed before his master and asked: "Sire, where do you need to send me? Seleukia?" Theodoros shook his head and smiled. "Nowhere, young Alexander. I just need your clothes."
"My clothes..."
"Yes, Alexander, your clothes. The Royal council is coming together for the regular session and I need to be there. I cannot let the Egyptians think that the leader of this army has left it. They might take that chance to attack and though I fully trust my captains here to be able to defeat some Ptolemaoi swine I'd regret not having the chance to slaughter some myself. You have about my stature and therefore are going to replace me here." Theodoros approached the boy and gave him a pat on the back. "You will live the life of a Strategos for some time. You are lucky." He smiled. "Of course you will not be in command here, but it will look like you were. Anytime you are outside this tent, you will behave as though you were me. Captain Sositratos will command the army while I am gone. Any questions?" Alexander looked like as though he wanted to say something but he couldn't think of what so Theodoros just continued: "Wonderful. Now let us exchange our garments."

As soon as it was done Alexander was dressed in the armor of a Seleukian general and Theodoros himself looked just like a little messenger. "Now, where is your horse, Alexander?"
"My horse, Sire?" Theodoros sighed. "Yes, Alexander your horse. Do you think any enemy would believe that I would give my trusty warhorse to a lowly messenger? No offence meant." Alexander nodded, finally understanding his face lightened up: "I will watch over your horse with care. Mine is right behind the tent of your personal servants. It might not be as glorious as yours but it will carry you swiftly to the council and back here."
"Great. Now let us go outside, so you can order your servant to deliver a message to Seleukia." Again Alexanders face took the form of a question mark and Theodoros was just about to sigh again when the boy understood. He smiled and the two of them walked outside where Theodoros bowed before his 'master' and then moved to the servant's tent, took the horse and rode off into the northeast, all under the watchful eyes of ptolemaoi spies.

Nikanor Kybiosaktes is sitting in the garden of his house in Hieroselyma enjoying a jug of wine with his most trusted friend, and mentor Phillipos

"So Niko, you have clearly impressed the Basileus." Phillipos said, draining his up of wine
"Yes, my friend, it would seem that I have. I just hope i can repay the trust he has shown in me by leading the men well." Replied the Makedon.
"You'll do fine my boy...."

Personal Journal of Phormion Epiphaneion Armeniakon, Winter 262 BC

I am starting this journal in hope that one day it will be read and remembered by historians of the future and my families name be remembered throughout history. I am Phormion Epiphaneion, Strategos of the Arche Seleukeia. Around a month ago I was promoted to the rank of Strategos. I suppose it was because of my growing public awareness and my skills in running little towns and villages.

My family can be traced back through the ages. My grandfather, a Macedonian, fought for the Megas Alexandros during his war against the Persians. He was young then and quickly rose in ranks and quickly became one of the highest commanding officers of the cavalry in the whole army. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately depending on how you view it) he broke a rib where his own armour had punctured a hole in his chest. It wasn’t life threatening but he decided it was the end of his military career. At this time he was a middle aged man of around 30, so he went to the biggest city furthest away from his old life, Babylon.

Two generations later and I am the heir of the Armeniakon’s family name. My father lives out the rest of his days in Babylon, reading histories of wars and battles. Like his father before him he was a commander of me, this time leading the Phalangites. He ended up lower in rank than his predecessor but respected all the same.

I on the other hand, failed all school classes my father sent me to, seemed too dull to warrant a place in a military school. Instead I was left to run the family armourer business in which I succeeded well in. My father worked hard to get me elected as a local magistrate and eventually I moved up to take charge of a minor area near the mountains in Assyrie.

The region held local election for a Strategos and I won by a convincing margin. I inherited a handful of seasoned veterans for bodyguards, all of them big and imposing. The only I have came to know well is my clerk, who I had sent to Seleukeia to act as my scribe. I was surprised when he returned a few days later with a message from the Basileus to attend the Royal Council.

This is where I am now, sat in a backroom of a brothel with a prostitute asleep next to me. Tomorrow I ride to Edessa, gather my troops and ride for Persepolis.

The General's Relaxation After a Siege...

General Ankyrikos and his best Captain, his loyal friend, sit atop a well in the center of occupied Nikaia...

"You seem to be enjoying yourself general", the captain smirks.

The general, takes a long and deserved gulp of water. He allows it to quench his thirst and closes his eyes smiling at the Captains remarks. His eyes open, "Well...its the first city I've taken, how should I feel?"

The Captain nods and looks off into the breeze at some shackled prisoners. One of them is naked and bloody. He points, "Oh my look at this one here, he seems to of lost his armor," the General takes another long sip. "Servant get that man the finest of armors...order it from the Basileus himself!" he jokes.

The General spits out the water breaking down in childish laughter and the Captain joins. "Captain! You are truly the sickest of men!" He continues to laugh.

"What! You think that's wrong? Well maybe I should cancel my night alone with his wife ya?" Ankyrikos smiles. "Hell if shes built right ill join ya!" They chuckle.

"Well, good general, I'm off to bask in my own glory...there's got to be something entertaining to do in this town."

The General smiles, "Ya doing the wife". The Captain smiles, nods, pats the general on the shoulder and walks off.

Western Mikra Asia

"See, Polymarches? Everything is going well, just how I told you. The siege of Byzantion was over fast, and now we're going east, to aid the new Kleronomos in the management of his satrapy and possibly even interfere in the war between those Parni barbaroi and Baktrians, should orders come. And I sincerely hope they do." Mikithion bit his lip silently after muttering these last words. As a true Hellene through and through, he couldn't stand the thought of some barbaroi from the steppes daring to threaten a Hellenic civilization with extinction.

Polymarches yawned. Even this iron man felt exhausted after travelling an entire day, just after battle no less. At least he knew he would sleep well, and that was at least partially due to the fact Mikithion seemed to have finally secured a position in the Arche, and not as the laziest of all Strategoi.

"But didn't you intend to free Athenai?" The spear carrier inquired, rubbing his eyes.

Mikithion looked back, beyond his bodyguards that strolled after the three figures (Lisymakes was also with the duo, however the herbalist was nearly asleep and didn't partake in their conversation), towards where he knew lay the coast of Ionia, the island of Mytilene, the Aigai, and beyond it, the shores of Mother Hellas and his mother city, Athenai.

"Yes, I did... However Athenai is not threatened to be wiped out by barbaroi. We must make sacrifices, but not enormous ones. Baktria could very well be a sacrifice of my sentimentality if no one else decides to march to its aid and the Hellenes there cannot hold against the flood of the Parni. I trust that if Athenai is taken by one of our Strategoi, many will go against the sacking of such an ancient city, one of the craddles of Hellenic civilization."

Doubt crept over his brow, however the Hellene shook his head and focused his mind on the duties ahead instead of what may befall his home in his absence. True, the Arche was better than the Ptolemaioi, but just how much he didn't yet know. He was a relative newcommer to the big stage, and although he heard rumors both in Athenai and Antiocheia, they could barely be trusted to be thruthful, comming through the Ptolemaioi navy in one place and the Arche's garisson in the other.

Side 259 BC

In the small house in Side, along the coast of the great Arche empire, a lone servant was hurrying through the stone corridors of the house. He was worried, concerned, a frown was on his face and a sword hung absently by his side. He was walking up stairs now, and soon stood by a door on the third level. As a cool breeze blew through the window at the end of the corridor where he stood, he raised his hand, ready to knock.

His closed fist lowered slowly, uncertianty flashing over his face while furious sounds of writing echoed from within the room. He knocked quietly twice, and the writing stopped. Two heavy thuds and the door was swung open fast.
"What!?" demanded the grey haired man holding the door.
"I was wondering if you were alright." voiced the servant nervously, the lord frightening him.
"Do I look alright to you!? Of course I;m bloody alright!" yelled the man, turning away to the desk he was writing at,
"I am alright now, but this damned Empire isn't. Run by fools, I say."
"You didn't say that, did you?" asked the servant quickly. The Stratego looked angrily at the servant, answer enough. He sighed loudly, standing up and going abruptly quiet, stabding at the window looking out.
"By the Gods I hate this place." he muttered quietly, and the servant strained to hear him. The servant hurried to behind his master.
"Is there something wrong, my lord?"
"Yes, very much so." Theodotas turned quickly, startlign the servant, but Theodotas ignored him, racing to his desk and picking up the quill.


"I need to contact someone with authority. I need to do something, I need to MOVE!" he roared, writing furiously now. The servant was wary, and hovered nearby. Theodotas threw down the quill, sitting back and putting his hands over his face, trying to relax from the cramps in his back.
"The Gods must need me here or I would barge into that dmaned Council Hall, useless as it is, and take the Chancellor by the collar and shake a damned answer out of him." He leaned forward, thinking, but the servant did not realize.
"may I get you anything, my lord."
"DAMNIT!" roared Theodotas, blowing up in anger completely and pulling a short knife from his waist. THe servant hurried, running but walking, and slammed the door shut quickly as the tip of the knife sliced through the door, settling mere inches from the servants face.
"I NEED TO FIGHT! I NEED TO MOVE!" roared Theodotas, crashing around in his room, but it suddenly went quiet.
"Leave, let me write." he ordered quietly, worrying the servant more then his shouting. As he raised his hand he stopped suddenly, afraid to tempt the man's brilliant anger. No, he would not tempt luck today again, and with that he walked away.

Theodotas, meanwhile, was in his room preparing a short message to the Basileus, asking for him to be able to command an army somewhere, preferably where there was fighting. THe promise he had publicl made, for the enemies heads to be brought directly the basileus stuck with him. Theodotas had no doubt he would eventually lead an army, he was angry that he did not already.
Damned foolish man He thought angrily, thinking of the loss of the 1st Parthian Army, If that was me, I would've pulled away or demanded reinforcements. he thought confidently, ithcing for a chance to fight. He pulled himself away from the furious letter. Time will tell, he thought gravely, time will defintly tell.

The Words of a Spirited Man: Winter 258 a wooded glen north of Edessa.

A man stands, his sword raised above his helmeted head. He gazes at his force, 120 Native phalangtite, men that would form the backbone of this battle. The 80 Persians archers at his command. And the 120 lightly armed spearman he also had. “Praise the Basileus for giving me such a force, and damn these rebels for making me throw some of their lives away.” Patrokles muttered, and then called for silence from his troops. They stopped and most men kneeled, showing respect to their commander. Patrokles scoffed “what are you men doing, bowing, to me? No, men I do not deserve such respect, in fact I Should kneel to you! To you, men that deserve better than this soon to be bloody field will give you. You deserve the highest honors, for you men are true patriots!” a roar shuddered through the crowd and men jostled in closer “You are the men who fight, die, and KILL. All for your country and for your Basileus.” Another roar “I am a patient man, a kind man, and I wish that it was not necessary to take you from your fields, and your shops. BUT there is one thing I am not patient to, one kind of person I am not kind to. And those people are rebels, for any man who would stand against the Arche deserves a swift trip to Hades, something I plan on giving them all” an even louder yell shook through the assembled army. Patrokles continued “and now let us not tarry, Let us fight, and yes if the gods will it, die. But if such things should pass then let me die with a hundred mans life staining my blade! FOR THE ARCHE!”
The army mobilized and marched forward, they marched against a force twice times their number but with half as much spirit...... the rebels never had a chance.

Inside the 1st Lydians Fort...day before their last battle.

Panaitolos' captain kneeled before him. The captain treated Panaitolos' knee wound. After finishing up, he bandaged the knee and sat next to the General.

"Think well make it out of this one General?"

Panaitolos chuckled"I think you and I both know well be living with Hades by night tomorrow."

The Captain turned to the General. He looked out on his men readying themselves for their last fight.

"So you request for mercenary troops was denied huh?" the captain inquired

"Yes, but reasonably so. I can imagine our rider was told something along the lines of "he got himself in this mess he can get himself out". Its too bad he probably wont make it in time to deliver the news. We may never really know."

The captain turned away from the general. Now viewing his troops as well.

"I had the men pack one item of importance to them and had the items snuck out to get to their families."

Panaitolos nods...

"Very good of you. Their will be many more widows soon, and it will be nice for their sons to have something they were here with." Panaitolos Sighs... "I cant decide now whether I came here for glory or for my men or for my country. Its not the same when you know you face death."

The captain unsheathed his sword. He ran a cloth across bringing it to a clean shine.

"I think tomorrow the answer to that will be simple. We will fight for us. You will fight for me, and I for you. And each man will have his last brother here at their last triumph."

The general turned to his captain...

"Suppose we will be remembered? Will their be a point here?"

"We will remember each other in the after life. Even their we will give our enemies hell."

They laughed and fell to silence, watching the sun fall behind the edge of the world. And Panaitolos breathed in his last whiff of truly peaceful air....

Event 3: Rise of Persia!
Rules

The Old Magistrate, Aristenos, rushed through the corridors of the palace. He was frightend and his face looked pale. Almost near the Council Hall he stopped to catch his breath and then entered the Hall.

"Strategoi of the Council! I come bearing some shocking news! Persian rebels in Persepolis, Gabai, Karmana and Propthasia have taken to arms and overthrown our governors, killed our garrisons and declared themselves enemies to our kingdom!

I wish was all, but those Persians have accepted Pahlava as their protector and one Member of Pahlavan Royal Family have been named the King of Persia! I don't know what his name is but he should reach Persepolis soon,
and to make things even worse..." Aristenos stops and sighs... "these rebels have assassinated many of our Strategoi."

"The slain are many, but amongst them are the former satrap of Persis, Andromachos Syriakos, who had his heart pierced as archers bombarded his camp with arrows at night, were amongst the first to be murdered, but almost immediately afterwards Polyxenidos Lykikos and Apelles Iliou Troikou had their throats cut by some hired blades while they were inspecting the defence of Babylon. Anaxarchos Kyrrhestikes Syriakes were next in line when he swam in the Tigris river, while Hamaktyon Nikopoleos Syriakes was poisoned in Damaskos. Lastly..." Aristenos makes another pause... "Lastly the Basileus' own brother, Theodoros Syriakos, was murdered in Phoinike while he was hunting. He got separated from his bodyguards, and by the time they got to him, he was already dead: pierced repeatedly by many swords."

Aristenos lowers his head and shakes it lightly.

"May the gods show mercy on us, for we might be seeing another Rise of Persia!"

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Story is written with The Celtic Viking

Wasted time?
His feet were kicked languidly on the desk in front of him and he shifted through the piles of paperwork, all of them bearing official seals. His face was full of vitality as he gazed at documents most other men would think of as boring. Behind him a man stood face stern with a silver studded sword strapped to his belt.
“Patrokles the last troops have been levied; there really is no point to staying here in Selukeia as a paper-pusher. We have much bigger things to do, the Phalavans await !” his eyes gazed hungrily to the east.
“Hyllos I want this military post as much as anyone. But your blood thirst does surprise me, never have I seen a man so eager to walk to his own possible death? Hmm. However, the Arche is not just properly served by rushing off into battle against its enemies; it is served by making sure it runs properly! Bureaucracy is key to our continued prosperity. “
Hyllos smirked, his arms crossing over his chest, “so says Patrokles, a man already famous in Selukeia for running at the first sign of a nobleman. Or perhaps even worse a noblewoman!”
Patrokles brow furrowed “we both know that I don’t have the tact to stay in with the nobles, they are to frivolous, to ready to strangle me with my own words. Perhaps I will never have the same influence in the court as others, but again I could care less. I can rule but I can not speak, I am quickly finding a large difference between the two…”
Hyllos smirk widens “words to live by.” His face goes blank once again “but my friend, I feel as though we are spending to much time here, every second in this city is a second not spent securing the east, which is I might add the reason we are here in the first place.”
Patrokles sighs, “Fine, fine, you are right. I took command of the 1st Babylonian to save the Arche, and that is what I shall do.” He grins, “Though I fear the city has spoiled me! How can I go back to the road when I can live a cushy life as a governor?”
Hyllos smiles as well “sloth has never been you vice Patrokles, something I deeply admire in you!”
Patrokles shrugs “to right, it seems I choose the road. Go to the troops, its time they knew what they are going to have to live like as a soldier in this army! Its time to prove my devotion, its time to make my name!”
Hyllos rubs his hand together eagerly and rushes out of the room his last words being “Hail the Arche!”
Patrockles smiled “hail the Arche!” He looked back at the piles of paperwork on his desk, almost reaching down to sort it and organize it…
He shrugs, let the next bureaucrat deal with it.

The Road Not Taken:

"We are at a crossroads Patrokles." Hyllos face was slightly dirty from the roads grime, his sword still slung in easy reach, “the reports filtering in place Sokrab e Zandig’s army at almost three times our number. Even I am not eager to go to battle against that force. Even I am not so bloodthirsty.”
Patrokles laughs “ I am glad you finally see the light my friend. This is a serious thing, this isn’t some rebellion, this is a trained army. If we march to battle against them people will die.” Patrokles sits and places his head in his hands “but we could take them, I have to believe that. We were recruited to fight the Phalavans, and so that is what we shall do.”
Hyllos leaned against a tent, “we do have another option, let Phanias deal with Sokrab and head to Persepolis, wait until the army is dealt with and then move on to our objective.” Hyllos shrugs “his royal army could make short work of him.”
Patrokles smirks “you are singing quite a different tune compared to how you were acting when we were in Selukeia,” “then all you could talk about was getting on the road, about taking the fight to the Phalavans.”
Hyllos casts his gaze to the ground “that was when I was talking as your friend, now I am talking as your bodyguard. You could get yourself killed in this battle. And where would that leave me, with a shattered disheartened army that would probably disintegrate in days.” Hyllos crossed his arms across his chest. “Like or not those men out there aren’t as important as you.”
Patrokles grins wiry “perhaps it would be best not to say that to their face." patrokles face crinkles "I am starting to think our roles have reversed, I am the one eager for battle while you try and hold me back.” “You are however forgetting something Hyllos.”
Hyllos looks up “what is that?”
“You always win those arguments, and we always end up marching into battle.” Patrokles whistles to one of the captains “get the army ready, we are marching into Gabai! For the Arche!” Patrokles walks away, still leaving Hyllos against the wall.
For almost an hour, Hyllos leans there until finally, “Damn, he’s right!” Hyllos exclaimed, “I really need to get back to winning these arguments.”

Gabai:
The people stood behind closed doors, their fear palpable throughout the city, the first Babylonian kept the city under tight watch. With curfew and martial law imposed until the Arche could bring in a more stable government. Patrokles stood in the governor’s manor watching darkness unfold across the buildings.
“They are afraid of us… Why is that Hyllos, we came here to save them. And yet they sit in their houses terrified.” Patrokles face crinkled in confusion.
Hyllos laughed “come on Patrokles, these are the very people who rebelled against us. Can you honestly say you care if they are scared of us or not?”
“These aren’t the ones who rebelled; these are the town folk, the people who had no hope of standing up to the armed Phalavans. And because of that I do care if they are terrified of us.” Patrokles looked over to Hyllos.
“Those town people don’t care who their leaders are, do you think their life was any worse under the Phalavans? It was exactly the same, the same distant uncaring government.” Hyllos snorted.
“And why is that? Why doesn’t the government care Hyllos? Aren’t we here fighting for the good of those people and that government? Your logic seems flawed.”
“All right, let me put it like this the Arche is huge, it cant catter to the will of all of its people. To these people right here it seems as though no one cares about them, that the only reason we are here is simply to keep an iron fist over them.” Hyllos shook his head.
Patrokles head shook and he stood staring at the city a while longer before saying, “you know, Hyllos I never have asked you where you grew up.”
“Babylon, The greatest city in the world! That’s what my parents always said. I love it there..” Hyllos looked back to the west
“and yet you are the one who hurried me out of the fertile crescent, you are a strange man Hyllos.”
“maybe, but at least I know what I want in life. Maybe you should try and figure out what you do.” Hyllos grinned and walked out of the room
Patrokles sat, and thought.

A few miles away from Petra.

"That's the last of them, sir." One of the Companions approached Hierax and pointed in the distance to where the corpse of a Ptolemaic soldier lay with about three arrows in his back. "The others are too far away for our infantry to reach them, shall I order my men to pursue?"

"No," was the young general's half-whispered reply. For a moment he seemed to ignore his adjutant, but then he continued: "Let them rest, there will be plenty of bloodshed to come."

The elder soldier could sense the tension in his voice and he approached. "My general, what ails?" and as he drew closer, it became clear what the cause of this nervousness was. The soldier followed Hierax's gaze to a spot in the blood-stained sand where, half-burried, lay the torn body of the enemy general, Paramonos Philopator.

"He was a great general." The Hetairos said, more in acknowledgment of Hierax than of the deceased.

"Far greater than I." was the disappointed reply.

"Yet he was not my general." Firmly stated the soldier. This made his young commander finally turn from the body to face his lieutenant. "And it is you, general... my general who earned victory today. It was you... it was your hand with this very sword that slew this titan." And he grabbed his general's arm and held it towards the heavens. "It was your strong arm that led us, your mighty sword that brought us victory. Glory to thee, my general!"

Hierax peered into his loyal soldier's eyes and only nodded in acknowledgment. "Bring me a messenger," he said "I must notify the Basileus."

"Aye, sir." He let go of Hierax's arm and hurried to carry out his orders. But the young general still held his arm up, and beyond the blade of his sword, just over the weapon's sharp edge he could see a shadow forming in the violent storm, a hardly discernible figure but he knew immediately what it was- Petra. The city that had caused his brothers in arms so much grief, whose armies his father had fought for years. Now, it lay within his grasp- within the reach of his sword.

"You shall bring me glory."

Home:
Patrokles stands outside of his tent surveying the great army before him, Hyllos stood at his back
"You know Patrokles; you never told me where you came from either."
Patrokles looked back smiling "your right Hyllos, My father is from Macedonia, and a military man who had served the arche for much of his life, he was always on the road. My mother is a native, from" Patrokles smirked "Babylon, Ironic isn’t it Hyllos. I spent the first 10 years of my life in Babylon, and I have to agree with your parents, it is the best city in the world, I will always remember it fondly as my home."
Hyllos laughed, “This wouldn’t happen to be the reason it was so hard to get you out of that dusty desk in Babylon would it?”
Patrokles laughed as well, “perhaps it was Hyllos, and perhaps it was. In fact, I wouldn’t mind heading back their,” Patrokles smirked at bit mischievously. “Once the Phalavan campaign is over we will see it again Hyllos, I can promise that.”
Patrokles sighed Hyllos frowned and looked over “what’s wrong?”
“I was just thinking how much about me has changed since I started serving the arche as a general, but enough of that, keep the men in line while I am at the council. And Hyllos”
“yes?”
“Send A messenger to Liatus, ask him to await us in Babylon, I need to talk to him on my way to the council.”

Siles Laodikeias Lydikes gathered up his belongings. He took one last look around the great estate where he had lived most of his life, knowing that when he returned everything would be different. It was dark in Selukeia, and though he knew the gaurds wouldn't think anything of the young noble being out, he knew that his dear mother would worry if she caught him.
Forgive me, he thought.

His body guards, all of them young and naive, picked because they admired the Strategos and not because they had much forethought as to what their actions might result in, met him outside the town gates. The gates were open, of course. Why shouldn't they be?

Siles Laodikeias Lydikes was headed for Arbela.

The horses hooves shook the earth, a premonition for what was to come.

Memphis, Governor's Palace


"Well Achaikos, it seems we have got unfinished business with Ptolemy. He won't let us go now that ya killed his heir. We head West. I will see about leading an army to finish Ptolemy off. Cunobelinus sighs I fear that we will not stop fighting even after we defeat Ptolemy. Further West there is another Empire.. Carthage. My people have traded with Carthage for many years... They are a powerful people, The Gods watch over them. But they are also a very distrustful people, our proximity to them will perhaps offend them. The King may lead us into another brutal war. Many will perish in the desert... We must see to it that We maintain good relations with Carthage. I will make note of this at the next council meeting."
"Sounds good. Still what about your City?"
"Memphis? yes what about it?"
"Don't you think leaving to campaign often would be irresponsible?"
"Sticking my nose in the maths is irresponsible. Leaving is a load off the delegates' backs! And I've been itching to get out in the wild again. I was born in the wild!" The Celt smiles wide.
"Well there would be no better choice than you to lead this... or any campaign. You saved this city with no help from the the King's army at all!"
Cunbelinus frowns
"This is true, brother... His army was well within marching distance. Hmmm, there must be a good reason why he didn't send help... I've fought alongside him before... I wouldn't think he abandoned me. This matter should be discussed with him later privately maybe...Cunobelinus scratches his beard.OH! My wife wants you to take my boy to the shops later, he needs to find a new cloak and boots to campaign with us soon!"

Insurrection:
Patrokles stood in front of the walls of Babylon, his face a blank slate as he stared at Liatus. “I can send someone else; it doesn’t have to be you Liatus.”
Liatus laughs, “we both know you can’t JUST send a messenger, it has to be someone a bit higher up on the food chain than that, and guess what that’s me!”
“Liatus, thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not thinking I am bat**** crazy.”
Liatus laughs harder and saddles his horse “I believe in what you have done Patrokles, always remember that”, and he marches off into the rising sun.
Patrokles stood there for a long time before quietly slipping into the city, where he went to the home of Hyllos, to perform a deed as dangerous as Liatus’s.
“Patrokles, I am surprised you are here. Why?”
“Hyllos, I would rather you heard our plan from me, and not from the soldiers tomorrow.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“you have noticed my meetings with Hermokrates Parthikos, Epikrates Tabaiou, and Siles Laodikeias I assume?”
“Of course.”
“Well I am about to tell you are meetings purpose. We are seceding from the arche with the cities of Mesopotamia. You were right Hyllos, the arche is too large, to corrupt, and this is the answer to that.”
Hyllos’s mouth drops and he reflexively takes a step back “Patrokles…. You can’t…. You have spent a good part of your life fighting rebels…. I don’t understand…”
Patrokles grimaces “ Hyllos, you once asked me what my purpose in life is, and I think I have found it. It is to fight the corruption that premates the arche, and to create something better. That is what’s going to happen. That is my purpose.”
Hyllos cocks his head to the side “maybe you are right Patrokles, but if you go through with this you have a very good chance of hanging. You know this.”
“Then perhaps I need a bodyguard?”
Hyllos laughs, “Maybe you are right. Though why you need two is beyond me!”
“Good to see you are back with us Hyllos.”
“Perhaps I never left!”

and moments after, the flag was raised throughout the cities of mesopatamia
https://img259.imageshack.us/img259/...hecrescent.jpg

Justification?

Patrokles gazed back to the east, his thoughts squarely on the messenger he had received from Babylon, the city was in a riot, Eprikrates was keeping things under control, but only just.... it pained him he could not be there, but he had to trust in his new co-king.
"Hyllos, I am starting To work through what I have done, and I feel as though this may be a inescapable conclusion. I am greedy..."
Hyllos frowns "we are all greedy Patrokles, we all look out primarily for ourselves, I knew from the start this was never about Sarpedons supposed corruption. That is something only the foolish would believe, the naive. But you know what, I am still here, and I am still by your side. do you know why Patrokles?"
"I assume because you are getting paid Hyllos, that is normally why bodyguards stick around." Hyllos laughs his head shaking
"No Patrokles, it was never about the money, its for two reasons, and two reasons only. 1. you are my friend Patrokles, and I would follow you to the gates of Hell and back. and 2. I believe even if your motives weren't entirely pure, you can still accomplish what you said. you can create something better, something greater, and something lasting. I think that with your help Babylon can rise to new heights, and I have a feeling its in part due to you. for a century your name will go down in infamy, you will be despised for this. but you know what, that wont matter because if you succeed the good will out way the bad and soon enough the historians will be writing your praise. The ends justify the means my friend, the evil you have done will be pale in comparison to the good. I have to believe that."

Patrokles face grimaces, "obviously The people of Babylon don't agree, they are in revolt already, the praise that swept their lips earlier lost in a shower of hate...."

"bahh, the common people are never happy, they are a fickle lot, but soon enough they will follow you. just give it time."

Patrokles laughs aloud, "I am amazed Hyllos,"
"why?"
"never did I think my best friend would turn out to be such a philosopher!"
They both share a laugh, but their gaze inevitably shifts west.
"do you think Sarpedon is getting ready as we speak?" Hyllos asks.
"perhaps, perhaps not. I cant know. you know If I saw him right now I would have only one question Hyllos..."
"what Patrokles?"
"I would ask him where the hell my brother was!" Patrokles face hardened.
"I personally would ask him why in the world he was trying to fight with the toughest Babylonian in the Arche." Hyllos says smirking.
" I wouldn't say the strongest Hyllos, but I am up there." Patrokles responded grinning
"no no no, not you I am sure he could flatten you like a child, I was of course speaking about myself!" Hyllos Smiles and both share a laugh, still staring west.

The bowels of Antioch
It was a small nondescript place, but it served Liatus needs well enough. he worriedly wrote his latest letter, he hoped his next messenger would manage to get to Babylon. it had been quite a few months since he had given his message to the royal council. and after he had been let go by Sarpedon (quite a surprise that!) instead of making his back to Patrokles he had decided to stay behind in Antioch, where he hoped he would be able to better help his brother. that was his mistake, he had manged to get a small ring of men around him, but every attempt he had made to send a messenger to his brother had failed, Sarpedons guard was just to good at the moment. He sighed, now he had no idea what was going on, he had heard the rumors, but it would have been better to be back at Patrokles side, Patrokles was just south of Edessa, his army with him. He might be there trying to capture a bit more land for his kingdom, but maybe not, that was the frustrating part, he was totally out of the loop. He finished his letter, handing it off to his newest messenger, he ran off to Edessa . he wished he could make the journey for himself.... but it was far to dangerous, Sarpedon may have given him his freedom, but the city watch was still looking for him after his little "circle" was uncovered. In all he had made a mistake, and there was only one thing he was thinking, His brother had no idea where he was, and that could end badly.... Patrokles may assume Sarpedon was far less lenient then he was, and Liatus hoped that wouldn’t lead to any hasty decisions.

Madness..... (or as I like to call it, finally introducing Patrokles melancholy and warmongering personality traits! and Trying to get some other rebels to step up to the plate lead us)

Patrokles stared long and hard at the wall of Antioch, his minds eye looking back to all the times he had entered the city in friendship... now here he stood at the head of a army, poised to conquer one of the strongest cities in the arche. He had known his path would take him here from the beginning, his kingdom would have never been able to sit back and let Sarpedon properly muster his forces, in that kind of war the rebels would have given up their one advantage, Local superiority, they had to seize the initiative, and what better way to do that than march on the heart of the west? Patrokles looked behind him to the 1st Babylonian, to the men who had been with him from the beginning... he smiled, they didn't doubt him, they had no regrets about their actions, unlike Patrokles himself. he would admit it to no one, but Patrokles was starting to regret his actions, to him the rebellion had seemed a goal, a thought exercise, but in his frenzy of planning he had never once thought his motivations less than pure.

now he knew better, yet there was no going back, no returning to how things once were. Patrokles would either live a hero in the peoples mind or die a villain. He didn't dislike Sarpedon, he even respected the man more now he was no longer under his yoke, but they were still enemies, and if it came down to him or Sarpedon, he would kill the other man with just a thought.

The person he once was had died, and so a new Patrokles had arisen. before all of this he wished only for the arche to prosper, to perhaps retire to some palace and live out his days in peace. now he wanted only to be cut down in battle, besides the men he knew so well... he thought back to his vision of governing Babylon and discarded it, there was no place in his new self for such peace... he had others able to rule in his stead. Eprikrates was good man, he would manage their new home. he would rule the council and all else while Patrokles was off on campaign, and when Patrokles finally died (not so distant a thought Patrokles mused!).
He looked up at the city wall, they were lined with poorly armed soldiers, people who would be butchered in the coming battle, the old Patrokles would have questioned why it had to be that way, the new Patrokles simply shrugged. He almost tried to compare himself to Sarpedon in those moments, but stopped, a usurper like himself had no reason to do so. and so Patrokles planned his next action carefully, mostly for the sake not of Morality but of Practicality.

That thought almost shook Patrokles, but once again he simply shrugged, and thought back to his brother. wondering what he might say if he saw Patrokles now.... Patrokles sighed much more deeply, If he came out of this alive he would have to rely on Liatus as his compass, it was obvious his own Ideas of right and wrong was gone forever.... Him and Hyllos would have to be his Morality, because Patrokles was losing his own.... it was something about sending men to die, he mused, that let a man discard his convictions, his hopes, and his dreams... He roused himself from these thoughts, it was no use thinking off the unchangeable, and mounted his horse. he galloped around the defenses yelling for the defenders to simply surrender, to not force him to kill more than he needed.
Sarpedon would either end this war, or Patrokles would make sure he regretted it.
Liatus would not be pleased.... and at that moment he was one of the few people whom's opinion actually mattered to Patrokles,

High Walls, Low Spirits

Patrokles had finally met his brother not long after the battle, when entering Sarpedons palace. There he had met his brother, and a group of his followers, already having secured the place from the scant guards. they smiled and hugged, both overjoyed knowing the other was well. the good feelings didn't last, however when Patrokles had told Liatus his plan for the city.
"its our only option Liatus," Patrokles said "Either Sarpedon accepts peace, or he loses one of his greatest assets. I am willing to end this however he wants, either me dead and the Arche in anarchy or Sarpedon dead and peace reestablished. I just don't care at this point brother."
Liatus sighs "you've changed since we last met Patrokles, what is this talk? we can resolve this peacefully, we can save you and Sarpedon. we can end this without death and destruction."
"I am not seeing it Liatus, this is going to end how it should, the two of us on the battlefield, our armies killing each other around us. Sarpedon will never accept my terms, he is to stubborn for that. I have shamed him and he wants his vengeance"
Liatus sighs again, his head shaking "I cant reason with you on this can I?"
"not really."
"fine then at least allow me this, don't tear down the city yet, stay here for a while, don't rush things. just wait. Sarpedon may open negotiations, he may see that we can end this now."

a messenger runs in, his face haggard from his long journey "Sarpedon has stated he will not be opening negotiations, that if any buildings of his city is harmed he will have Patrokles head."

Patrokles laughs aloud "There is your answer! now do you see Liatus, it can end only one of two ways." Patrokles face becomes haggard, and he leans back and closes his eyes. "one of two ways....."
Patrokles sits back in thoughts, surveying how things could have turned out so... a thought sparked in his head, one he latched on to. he was so tired.... so very tired of it all... Perhaps he could end this.
a commander of his men entered, asking where his men should bunk in the city, he responded "there's a barracks here isn't there? take that over for now. we may be staying a while."

"what about your orders to raze it if Sarpedon rejected your offer?" the man replies
" for now that wont be happening, you will be the first to know if that changes."


he fell back into his own thoughts, Liatus was right, maybe there was a peaceful route. but not in the way he expected. He laughed aloud once again, and left the room, his thoughts wondering if he was about to do the right thing.

The rebel camp, 245 BC, before the battle of Antioch

His thoughts turned back to his son, his young son. And the thought almost broke Patrokles, he was married now, and he had people relying on him. Yet here he stood, outside the city of Antioch once again… his army behind him, Epikrates beside him, and Sarpedon in front. With his own army beside him… this was the end, finally this would all end. Patrokles just hopped it would end the way he wanted it to. But still, he had a son now, what would he do if his father never came home? It was an unsettling thought. Patrokles had thought the part of him terrified of death had dried up long ago, but now….. He sighed and pulled on his horse’s reigns, bringing them to a stop. He called for a general halt of his army, and turned to face Hyllos. Who as always was at his side, “well Hyllos, this is it. There is no retreating this time, no falling back and regrouping. We will either die here, or we will kill here.”
Hyllos’s eyes glinted “your right, its exciting isn’t it!”
Patrokles smiled “we are right back where we started aren’t we Hyllos?”
Hyllos laughed, flourishing his hands outward “you are quite right, I have returned to my former glory, and former bloodlust!”
“Your right, we have come full circle haven’t we?” Patrokles put his head in his hand and rubbed his temples “Go and grab the commanders of the regiments Abderus, Niklau, Aeson, Cyrus, and Zoroaster. Send them to my command tent. We have a lot of planning to do if we plan to accomplish anything in this battle.”
Patrokles turned once again, this time facing his brother Liatus.
Liatus spoke first; his face turned into a scowl “I assume you are going to tell me to leave.”
Patrokles smiled “yes Liatus, yes I am. I don’t want to be cruel, but you are not a fighter. I was always the warrior, and you were always the better person.” Patrokles smile disappears “I want you to watch my family Liatus. There is a very real possibility I am going to end up dead before this day is up. I want my son to be safe Liatus. Do you hear me?”
Liatus shoulders slump, his face looks defeated “fine…. You are right. Just stay alive ok? We have done far to much to have it all undone in one battle. And brother.”
“Yes?”
“Good luck!” Liatus walks to the east, leaving Patrokles alone. He sighs one last time before picking his way towards his command tent.