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

[LordofUmbar]

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…

[Celtic_Punk]

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
"! 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.

[Chaotix]

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.

[johnhughthom]

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."

[The Celtic Viking]

"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 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.

[Rodrico Stak]

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."

[Celtic_Punk]

"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 , 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."

[johnhughthom]

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.

[kingsnake]

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."

[00jebus]

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.

[Celtic_Punk]

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!"

[00jebus]

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.

[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."

[Celtic_Punk]

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.

[Ibn-Khaldun]

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!

[Roka]

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..."

[The Celtic Viking]

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.

[johnhughthom]

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.