Stories Thread

[Warmaster Horus]

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.

[Ibn-Khaldun]

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..."

[Celtic_Punk]

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!

[johnhughthom]

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.

[MerlinusCDXX]

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.

[Rodrico Stak]

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."

[The Celtic Viking]

- 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."

[kingsnake]

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
I think I never wrote so much in my life, this PBM is going to change my life 0_0

[Celtic_Punk]

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
" 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."

[MerlinusCDXX]

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."

[MerlinusCDXX]

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...

[00jebus]

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..."

[The Celtic Viking]

"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 Celtic Viking]

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 ."
- "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.

[navarro951]

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.

[GMaximus]

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.

[Warluster]

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.

[Cultured Drizzt fan]

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.

[The Celtic Viking]

The Fate of Patrokles Adiabenikos
Sarpedon entered through the gates of Antiocheia at the forefront of his army, and his Hypaspistai followed behind him, dragging with them a shabby man with dirty looks and a long beard. His physical state was completely wrecked, and he could not walk on his own, so his uncovered feet were dragging in the ground. At one time, that man had called himself a king. That man was Patrokles Adiabenikos, but from looking at his body and face, it was hard to tell. The countless hours of torture had left its mark - but he was still alive and breathing.

When they got to the place where the once mighty barracks had stood, Sarpedon signaled for the troop to stop. He dismounted and looked at the ongoing construction, that fitted one unusual pillar. He turned to Patrokles, pulled up his shabby head by the hair and looked straight into his eyes.

"I guess this is where we part ways, old friend, even if only for a while. I'll make sure to come and visit you again, if you manage to stay alive, but... well, we'll see how long you will last, first. "

He smiled and let Patrokles head go, and as he did so, it returned to the original position with the face aimed straight into the ground, as if he didn't even have the strength to carry his own head. Sarpedon gave a signal to the guards, who put him in place in the pillar, and workers quickly built him in so that he could do nothing but stand and look out through a small opening that had been made for his face.

"It's a fitting twist of fate, isn't it?", Sarpedon said. "You destroyed the barracks here only to become a building block for the new ones, and here you will stay and repay your crimes until Hades takes you." Sarpedon laughs. "Oh, but don't worry - we'll do our best to keep you alive so you won't have to bring the shame of dying in debt!" He laughed once more, before he drew a dagger and made small marks on his chins and forehead. He smiled.

"Well, that's enough for this time; I must be going now. Pressing business; I'm sure you understand. Nothing personal." Without looking back, Sarpedon rode on to his palace.

There Patrokles was left until he finally died.