The Legacy of Megas Alexandros - a seleucid AAR

[Lysimachos]

Chapter 27: A Son's Duty

Kallinikos and his escort are riding at fast pace. His destination indeed is Seleukeia, yet he soon leaves the Royal Road, because first the Kleronomos Basileois has to head somewhere else, as he is not going to enter the Metropolis as a prisoner.
If the king is still alive, it is his son's duty to save his kingship.

Mighty walls rise into the sky. Antiocheia on the Orontes - western pearl of the Arche Seleukeia. The city is heavily guarded, squadrons of cavalrymen patrol the surrounding land. Alarming rumors have reached the governor's ear. Some say, the Basileus has died in Arabia and others that he has been arrested by his own brother, who tries to claim the throne. No news from the king's son have arrived for some time, who should be in Asia Mikra and the future is uncertain.
Only one thing is certain to Timarchos: Nikomachos, the Basileus' grandchild, lives in his house, the rightful heir, if father and grandfather fall to misfortune. So the governor knows, he who seeks the power has to follow the path to Nikomachos, and Timarchos made the decision to protect the child from whatever harm may come to him.

"Excellency! Excellency!" - "Yes, what is it?" Timarchos looks up from his work, stacks over stacks of papers, that are piling on his massive marmoreal desk.
"The prince has just arrive at the palace, sir," the messenger replies. A load is taken off Timarchos' mind. "Thank the gods he is alive! I reckon he will be seeing his family first. You can leave now, soldier."

"I'm glad to see your highness alive and well," Timarchos states. Kallinikos, his arm around the shoulders of his three year old son, looks up and rises. "So am I. And now I need your help, my brother."
The two of them retire to Timarchos' office and there the prince tells him about the past events. "And so," Kallinikos closes, "I owe my father to take an army to the Tigris. That is what I have come for."
His brother-in-law nods. "I have no confirmed report about his whereabouts, but word has he sailed to Persis. Though it is nothing more than hope, as today you can't trust any rumor."
He starts walking up and down the room. "You have to be aware that you can not be certain that the Basileus is still out there. So if it is your decision to confront your uncle I suggest you proceed carefully and try to gather supporters. It is of great importance that Sarpedon doesn't learn of your plans until you have reached northern Mesopotamia with its huge reserves."
"I am grateful for your help, Timarchos. It seems fate finally has decided to impose a great task upon me." Kallinikos is gazing off into the distance. "I hope it won't break me."

[I of the Storm]

Very good! Will you continue this?

[Maion Maroneios]

Good to see you're back. Got some time off, I persume? It's a good thing, your mind freshens up and you continue with renewed enthousiasm. I did it some time ago too

Maion

[Lysimachos]

Very good! Will you continue this?

Oh, yes, there are some interesting things to come and I wouldn't want to quit before I get them in, despite 1.2 being out

Good to see you're back. Got some time off, I persume? It's a good thing, your mind freshens up and you continue with renewed enthousiasm. I did it some time ago too

Maion

Uhm, actually I'm not back yet, as it is almost two weeks since I posted the latest chapter, but I'm going to update this weekend or perhaps at the beginning of next week.

[Maion Maroneios]

Excellent! I'll be waiting for your next chapter then!

Maion

[Lysimachos]

Chapter 28: Gaugamela

Two riders are slowly moving through the busyness of the camp. They ride in silent, with disregard for the soldiers who are inspecting and repairing the equipment and preparing their meals.
When they have left the last tents behind Gorgias Dahaikos stops on a small slope, viewing to the south. "You know what this is, Kallinikos? Over there Alexandros fought the battle of Gaugamela." He is searching the surroundings. "I've heard here is an altar somewhere."
Seleukos Kallinikos catches up with his companion. "I dare to say it won't help us much, if you don't mind," he demurs.
"You're a croaker," Gorgias asserts, shaking his head. "If that was Alexandros' attitude, he wouldn't have won a battle on that very plain in front of us."
Kallinikos spurs his horse and exclaims: "I'm not Alexandros and am not going to change that! Now stop this!"

The two of them now are riding faster, in a curve across the ancient battlefield and then back in direction of the Royal Road.
The prince's forces have grown since he left Antiocheia behind, yet it is still a small army, but able to move quickly. Kallinikos doesn't plan an open confrontation, but through his armed presence putting pressure on those who haven't fully abandoned loyalty to their king.

He interrupts his thoughts and points southeast. "Look there, who's that?"
A single rider comes fast along the road and Kallinikos and Gorgias rush their horses to intercept him. "Stop your horse, stranger! Where are you going?" Gorgias calls out.
The newcomer firmly pulls the reins and brings his mount to a sudden halt. After a moment of hesitation he recognizes the king's son. "I'm coming for you, Strategos! I bring message from Seleukeia. The regent has ordered the army to prepare for march."
Kallinikos glances up, to the sky. "This can mean only one thing."
Gorgias sceptically looks at him. "No. It can't, actually."



The audience is attentively watching the actors performing on the stage the premiere of a new komoidia written by the famous babylonian politician and playwright Ikadion Anthemusias.
Yet not all who have come to see the play, here in the Thaumaton Theatron of Seleukeia, are lucky enough to be able to commit their full concentration to it, among them the poet himself.
A pressing matter has forced him to leave soon after the begin and now he is standing in the dim and chilly corridors below the terraces.
"I don't like the way you are gambling," Ikadion emphasizes with rarely known gravity in his voice. "I will keep my hands out of this, you understand?" - "So you are deserting me, too? I swear to you, you will see where this will get you once I've come back," retorts his guest with fury and hurries away with a quick turn.

[MarcusAureliusAntoninus]

Now you're back.
Good to see this continue.

[Maion Maroneios]

Good update By the way, I wonder how much treasury you got.

Maion

[Lysimachos]

Now you're back.
Good to see this continue.

Good update By the way, I wonder how much treasury you got.

Maion

Yes, I'm back I'm planning to update at least once a week, hope this will work out.

I can't give a certain figure regarding my treasury, but once all the mines are constructed and upgraded the financial cituation becomes comfortable, especially because I don't maintain a lot of expensive units (I don't need many armies, because I don't plan any fast and huge-scaled invasions all over the place).

[Maion Maroneios]

A number would be fine Anyway, if you don't want to say, I understand :-P

Maion

[Lysimachos]

A number would be fine Anyway, if you don't want to say, I understand :-P

Maion

It's not like I didn't want to, I just can't. What is recently happening in the AAR is about ten years back in the game and I don't have a clue how much money I had back then.
Short time after this I recruited my first elite units and elephants and later I've had something more than 100k at one time, but I usually try to spend my money on buildings. The theater is not the only top-level building I have in Seleukeia, for example, I just don't see a roleplay opportunity for every one of them.

[I of the Storm]

Ah, an update! Good to see.

The theater is not the only top-level building I have in Seleukeia, for example, I just don't see a roleplay opportunity for every one of them.

All those glamourous, sinfully expensive, high-end public order buildings and parks etc. are always good for conspirative meetings. Or showdowns.

[Maion Maroneios]

It's not like I didn't want to, I just can't. What is recently happening in the AAR is about ten years back in the game and I don't have a clue how much money I had back then.
Short time after this I recruited my first elite units and elephants and later I've had something more than 100k at one time, but I usually try to spend my money on buildings. The theater is not the only top-level building I have in Seleukeia, for example, I just don't see a roleplay opportunity for every one of them.

Aha, I see. That makes sense

Maion

[Lysimachos]

Ah, an update! Good to see.



All those glamourous, sinfully expensive, high-end public order buildings and parks etc. are always good for conspirative meetings. Or showdowns.

This is true. I think there will be some more opportunities then...

Aha, I see. That makes sense

Maion

Maybe I'll write down what I have now in the game and when I'm as far in the AAR I might tell you

Btw, when beginning to write the next chapter I realized I have one unit of Argyraspides, so technically I already have an elite unit.
Anyway, I'm full of anticipation for completing this chapter, because it will be an important and large one and I hope it might also become one of my best so far
Back to work now

[Lysimachos]

Here I am again and I think this is my longest chapter yet, although I made the last parts shorter than I originally intended to. Well, I guess I might have to answer some questions soon

Chapter 29: The Hour of Steel and Blood

So this is the day, Sarpedon thinks. He watches the Taxiarchai commanding their regiments in formation, arranging the Phalanx, Syntagma for Syntagma. He is not used to wearing armor but his smiths and tailors have done greatly in composing a military outfit for him.
The silver-coated cuirass is finely crafted and highly ornamented. On the right it shows Apollon Argurotoxos - with the silver bow - in his personification as god of archery, armed with Hephaistos' bow slaying Python, the chtonic dragon. The left shows Apollon as Musagetes playing the Kithara, surrounded by his choir of Muses. Between them, upon the solar plexus, the sun disc is set in gold.
From his shoulders falls a bright red cloak and for his head he has chosen the two-plumed helmet of the Hetairoi.
Sarpedon is riding ahead of his sons and highest officers, inspecting the buildup of his battle line. He turns around, seemingly satisfied and looks over the plain in front of the host. To the south the Tigris is slowly flowing in eastern direction, before turning south where the land rises to the Zagros mountains. The terrain is flat except some small elevations and it becomes more marshy closer to the river itself.
"Omanes!" he calls for his oldest son. "Yes, my father?" The addressee responds, lashing his mount to catch up.
"You take the cavalry and proceed ahead of the main line. I don't want any surprises." Omanes straightens himself with the confidence of an adolescent who never had to experience failure. "Of course, my father, I won't disappoint you!"
Sarpedon nods and looks to his younger son. "Athenaios, you stay with your brother. Heed his command." He is turning away, but stops and faces his son again. "And sit upright!" he snaps in a low, yet sharp voice.
So this is the day. He was going to face his brother in battle. Ah! He should have known from the start that this narrow-minded Admiral wouldn't obey his orders. But did it really matter? What aces could remain in Antiochos' sleeve? A victory today and an easy victory against the rabble that his nephew gathered in the north and the kingdom would be his. Then, at last, it would have a prospect of being well-governed.

A strong, black Arabian steed carries a tall man, wrapped in a blueish-gray cloak, unshaven and with disorderly hair. His carelessness however doesn't conceal the grandeur of his nobility, his uncompromising assertiveness and the muscular physique. The warrior-king is riding again.
He is riding again and he has an army. He brought from Arabia as many troops as he could, who now form the core of the host, that has been bolstered with the Klerouchoi from Persis and Susiane and with local Psiloi. Not the best he could wish for, but the experience of his veterans and his own proficiency in leading them should be enough for any foe.
"My Basileus?" With him is Antiochis, his cousin Andromachos' son. The king looks back, raising his eyebrows to signal his attention. The young relative is insecurely gnawing on his lip, as if considering the words to chose.
"Basileus, if you don't mind me asking, how does it feel, riding to fight your own brother?"
Theos silently gazes into Antiochis' eyes until the younger uncomfortably turns his eyes away. Then the king speaks, slowly and considerate. "When the day of battle comes, there is not time for feelings. When the horns of war call for slaughter it is the hour of steel and blood and not emotion. Victorious is he who doesn't fear, doesn't doubt, doesn't hesitate. The soldier may hate and lust, but never the commander, even when the dance of swords carries his body. Remember that."
A voice raises nearby. "Sire! Cavalrymen ahead!" Antiochos' head wheels around and follows the pointing finger of the Hetairos. "There, below the trees."
"I see. Prepare for engagement. We will offer a skirmish." - "Yes, Basileus!"
Antiochos again faces the young man. "You take the lead of the Infantry. No hurry, no experiment. Just hold formation and proceed according to the plan." In Antiochis' eyes the surprise shows, suddenly being in command over thousands of men, but he soon finds back his countenance. "As you order, my king!"
Antiochos Theos has deployed his cavalry on the right wing, because on the left, to the south, the ground near the Tigris is too soft to support horses at a steady speed, posing a reasonable defence against any mounted flanking. Now the king takes his riders forward and battle is imminent.



Omanes watches the king's right wing separate and leave the infantry behind, approaching in trot: the Hetairoi, the chosen companions, Lonchophoroi, protected by the Aspis and Prodromoi, not heavily armored, but mounted on exceptionally fast and agile horses.
Athenaios carefully voices his thoughts. "We should return now, brother. We are to far from the army, father would not want this."
Omanes laughs out loud and pulls his horse around, jerking his heels in its flanks. "No! This will be my victory! My glory!" The fire of passion is burning in his eyes and he turns towards the approaching enemies, unsheathes the Kopis and pushes it into the sky.

His brother's horsemen are swinging in and a smile of cold, superior confidence shows up on Antiochos' lips. "Those bloody fools," he mumbles before raising the voice: "Ready for charge!"
The wind carries the shout far and a many-voiced exclamation answers his call, the heavy cavalrymen speeding their horses, closing the lines shoulder by shoulder and couching the lances, while the Prodromoi, slight statured men on fast horses, prepare to hunt down Omanes' Hippakontistai.
Now the opponents' horses also accelerate to a tantivy. The horses are flying across the plain, hurling dust into the sky, the hard sound of their hooves hitting the ground unifying with the men's furious shouting and the mounts' nervous neighing in a thunderous cascade of noise.
The lines collide in an explosive cracking of steel against steel, which makes place for the cries of pain and the frightened sounds of the men's mounts.
Many have been unmounted in the powerful impact, riding without a saddle, and the cavalrymen's clash becomes a vicious melee - nothing left of the grandeur of mounted nobles - no! One thing already has been decided: This fight won't end as a skirmish, but when one side has ceased to stand.
The king is still on his horse, blazing his trail with the Kopis like the mower cuts the grain with his scythe. His vengeance comes upon his foes - cold and motionless, but unforgiving - and he is barely noticing who is falling under his blade.



The world turns silent around Omanes as he helplessly watches his brother collapse under a forceful blow. The Kopis slides from the young man's hand and he is grasping a Xyston, the fingers closing strongly around the trusty wooden shaft. The lance uplifted Omanes is stumbling across the fighting ground, towards the tall rider who just killed Athenaios with a slash off the cuff without even conceding him attention. Omanes is slowly, but irresistibly moving forward, the blood pounding in his temples, his eyes fixed on his aim. He is dropping his shield to grip the Xyston with both hands, preparing a powerful thrust. He is close, very close. An acute pain is hitting his left thigh. He has no time for pain and it is fading away, but the leg is giving in and the thrust misses. The Xyston's point is deflected by the king's muscled cuirass, its edge leaving a small cut on the inside of Antiochos' upper arm.
Omanes is on his knee, breathing heavily. He is preparing the next thrust, when his eyes meet Antiochos' gaze. The king's cold, piercing glance is perturbing, the calmness in the face of death even more so. Omanes is hesitating, before he raises the weapon.
But he has waited to long. A hand is grasping his hair, pulling his head backwards. He feels the shock of cold steel at his throat. He is gasping for air and he doesn't know why he can't breath. Then the pain is over, sensation has gone and his body is caving in, gushes of blood running from the deep cut in his throat in the rhythm of his heart's last beats.



Not many of Omanes' soldiers live to escape, chased away by Antiochos' Prodromoi, not enough to make a difference at another time. Already the scales have almost been tipped in the king's favor, when the wounded retire to the camp or after receiving basic treatment return to the right wing, for there is still a battle to be won.
Antiochos, now clearly superior in terms of cavalry, has chosen a conventional lineup. About two thirds of his infantry form the phalanx: to the left the Klerouchoi from Persis and Susiane and to the right the veteran Pezhetairoi, who fought under his command in the campaign to Hierosolyma and later in Arabia. Among them, the guard troops, the Argyraspides, hold the position of honor at the right edge of the Phalanx.
The last third of the king's infantry are Psiloi, light infantry. They are mostly Persians, armed with bows and varying quality of armor. Their numbers are complemented by slingers and a compartment of experienced Toxotai Kretikoi.
The main disadvantage of Antiochos' army is the lack of any heavy infantry or other mobile, but capable of melee, footsoldiers.
Across the field the king's brother has to rely heavily on his spearmen, now that he lost most of his cavalry, as he commands considerable numbers of well-armored Thorakitai and Thureophoroi as well as jewish and babylonian spearmen.

The battle lines stand ready, huge blocks of pikemen slowly closing in to the marching music of the Auletai. The Phalanx is the heart of a successor army, its most important part. The decision, however, will be made on the flanks and both generals know this and both have to take a risk in order to succeed.
The opening move in the struggle for the flanks comes from Antiochos. He has to move first, because he has to be quick, as his left flank is protected by not much more than the soft and not easily passable bankside terrain of the Tigris. His Hetairoi and Lonchophoroi encounter Sarpedon's Thureophoroi, who have been put here to hold the left, assisted by the remaining cavalry and the Peltasts, while the king's brother sends his heaviest troops, the Thorakitai, together with the Babylonians to attack on the river side.
The king, having suffered only a small cut in the preceding fight, is again leading his men at the front, while his brother is trying to retain the overview.

Antiochos knows the steadfastness and proficiency of the Thureophoroi, so he decides to fully exploit the enemies' lack of cavalry, by dividing his own heavy horsemen in three compartments, that repeatedly charge from different directions into the spearmen's defensive position, thus weakening them more and more without getting drawn into a lasting melee.
At the southern flank Sarpedon's Thorakitai and Iudaioi viciously attack the Klerouchoi, inflicting serious casualties to them, while the Babylonians are making their way even farther out to reach the back of Antiochos' formation, but they are not able to proceed fast and suffer greatly under concerted pounding by the Persian bowmen and slingers, while the king's Cretans get the upper hand in their ranged duel against Sarpedon's Syrians.
Finally, the Babylonians have come around the southern flank, but they see themselves unable to attack the back of the Phalanx, being threatened by the numerous Psiloi and the Prodromoi, who have been held in reserve, so they decide to rather flee into the dense sea of reed, abandoning what had been planned for them to avoid demise.
At this moment, Sarpedon's battle plans seem to be doomed: his own flanking maneuver severely weakened by the flight of the Babylonians, while the Thureophoroi and Peltastai no longer can resist the charges of Antiochos' heavy cavalry and the Argyraspides at the very right of the Phalanx get the better of their opponents, the gain of the Thorakitai in the south becoming in vain.
After the line starts crumbling, a determined strike of all reserves is enough to turn a close fight into total destruction.



Once again the king was victorious and his brother's army has suffered obliteration, but the traitor's body has not been found...

[Maion Maroneios]

Wow, that was a very intense chapter! My sincere congratulations

Maion

[Lysimachos]

Wow, that was a very intense chapter! My sincere congratulations

Maion

Thank you very much! I have a slight bad conscience though, because originally I wanted to describe the main part of the battle from Sarpedon's view, between hope and realization of defeat, but I got something like a "lazy-flash" and I just wanted to post it without separating one battle into two chapters.

[MarcusAureliusAntoninus]

Wow, that was a very intense chapter! My sincere congratulations

Indeed. A very good chapter.

[I of the Storm]

Excellent update.
Out of curiosity: how did you get pre- and post-battle screens of two opposing seleucid armies with the proper character names? I mean, you can't really make them fight eachother on the campaign map, can you?

[Maion Maroneios]

Excellent update.
Out of curiosity: how did you get pre- and post-battle screens of two opposing seleucid armies with the proper character names? I mean, you can't really make them fight eachother on the campaign map, can you?

No, you can't. But you can take two separate pictures of the two armies and merge them in one using a picture-editing program.

Maion

[Lysimachos]

Hehehe, finally someone brings up this point, I've been waiting for it all the time

Actually, it is not all picture editing and I really fought a battle with Theodoros Syriakos against Sarpedon Syriakos and I would even have posted screenshots, if the graphics quality of my computer wouldn't suck that badly

What I did is probably a bit too much effort for this, but I really wanted them in the battle instead of some replayed custom battle or not having one at all.
Somewhere in this forum I found directions on how to take control over a different faction. After bringing Sarpedon, Omanes and Athenaios in position I used that information to take control over the Ptolemaioi, so I could bribe them.
Then, I took control of the Seleucids again, used the console to spawn them some units and attacked to start the battle.
Some picture editing is involved of course. I copy-pasted the seleucid symbol over the ptolemaic and on the messages for the dead generals I deleted the reference to the Ptolemies, too. Regarding the unit cards in the pre-battle-screen I copied seleucid cards over the ptolemaic cards of respective units (but not all, some of them are still ptolemaic cards and the artistic skill is lacking on some parts, too, which you can see if you watch closely). In the battle, they were of course a completely ptolemaic army.
So now I don't even have to kill them off by some other way (hunting pirates in a jollyboat...) and still they are not around anymore and marked in the family tree as whatever-the-game-calls-it (defected or something)

And of course: Thank you all for your nice comments

[I of the Storm]

Ingenious!

You deserve a balloon:

Hehehe, finally someone brings up this point, I've been waiting for it all the time

tbh, I was surprised that noone did yet...

[Lysimachos]

W00t! Thank you!

[PriestLizard]

Smart move! Thats something other AAR writers should keep in mind... ;)

Oh and is it possible to post a picture of your campaign map too? It would be a nice addition to your great writing

[Olaf Blackeyes]

Forced Diplomacy FTW!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[I of the Storm]

Bump! I'm still hoping for an update here... ?

[Kuningaz]

C'mon please don't tell me this is dead

[Lysimachos]

This is not dead, I repeat: This is NOT dead! I've just been hibernating

Chapter 30: Gem of the Empire

"Strategos! Our scouts have returned." A young Dekarchos, a junior officer, is quickly riding up the hill, where Kallinikos is waiting, overlooking his small army marching south along the Dialas river that meets the Tigris not far north of Seleukeia.
The prince faces him and commands: "Report!" The horseman with force restrains his mount, which is uneasily obeying the pulling reins, neighing loudly while lifting its forelegs into the sky. "Strategos, the army has left Seleukeia and is marching in southeastern direction. Their baggage is not provided for a long time and the city is left behind with almost no garrison."
"Dismissed, Dekarchos." Kallinikos nods and turns to his staff. He shows a rare moment of resolution - perhaps because this decision has been made long before - and without hesitation he announces: "Gentlemen, we'll take our chance. Forced march to Seleukeia!"

Apollodoros is a quite small man and the years of comfortable service have done their part in forming his body in a rather grave fashion. His graying hair is slowly retreating from an uphill battle and gives room for a deserving presentation of Apollodoros' huge, almost cubical head, inside which most of his work, if any, is done.
Concerning his work, Apollodoros has just begun a break from the demanding task of acknowledging the next month's plans of watch, in order to savor some of his wife's famous cakes, when excited knocking arises at the door of his office, the office belonging to the commander of the city guard of Seleukeia.
Apollodoros is tempted to ignore the assumed supplicant, who dares to disturb his sacred break, but as he is not a dumb man and well knows that he seldom has to handle matters that tend to cause excited knocking, he allows the messenger into the office, but of course not without indicating his disapproval with the whole affair of disturbing him.
"Enter if it's important..." he shouts. A young and slender Babylonian enters the room shyly and Apollodoros recognizes him as one of the guard's runners and adds: "... or else you'll receive a fair share of whipping."
The commander leans back in his chair, that is groaning under the heavy weight's movement. "So, what is the matter?"
"An army is approaching the syrian gate. The officer of the watch requests order if the gate is to be closed, sir." Apollodoros heaves himself in an upright position, which induces the chair to emit another groan that is full of pain. "I reckon it is Seleukos Kallinikos?"
"We think so, sir."
He slowly nods. "Well, then, I guess, the choice has been made for us. He is here and the regent is not, so open the gates and give the prince a warm welcome. I will have to take care to inform our dear dignitaries."
The runner backs away, but before he turns to leave the office, he carefully asks: "So, there is no whipping?"
Apollodoros generously lifts his hands to show his renouncement. "No whipping!" Though, before the door closes behind the Babylonian, he shouts: "This time!", eager not to dilute his reputation among his subordinates.

The great iron gates open for the young prince's host. The sunlight is reflected by the tips of the soldiers lances and from the proud city's roofs, making it gleam brightly as the gem of the empire that it is. The people, who are living beneath this shimmer, bode farewell to the regent Sarpedon days ago, just as they now welcome the prince Seleukos Kallinikos and decorate his soldiers and horses with flowers, celebrating them as victors without a battle. The feud of the royal siblings has done little to touch them, until now, when thousands of husbands, brothers and sons have died at the shore of the Tigris, died not to defend their land and loved ones but for the will of their betters. The commoners don't know what the great ones argue about, what the nobles grind their blades for. They never do.

[MarcusAureliusAntoninus]

Good to see this is back!

[Olaf Blackeyes]

WOOT!!!! IT LIVES!!!!!!

Ok excellent chapter, this is gonna get real interesting real fast. I sense an execution scene coming up.