Stories Thread

[The Celtic Viking]

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.

[GMaximus]

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...

[SwissBarbar]

The Story of

Nikarchos Asterias Syriakes





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




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




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




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





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.............

[SwissBarbar]

The Story of

Nikarchos Asterias Syriakes





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.




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.




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.




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.




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.




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 .....

[johnhughthom]

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.

[GMaximus]

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.

[kingsnake]

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.