Stories Thread

[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!"