Horns of the Bull - Carthage...our homeland

[YAKOBU]

It is 257BC and Hasdrubal becomes leader of the Carthaginian faction on the death of his father Hanno who died peacefully in his sleep. Hasdrubal has 2 brothers, Theophanes and Bomilkar as well as another, Burrhus who died heroically in battle in 267BC. On the death of his father Hasdrubal names his deceased brothers son Theages as his heir. Theages has little love of commanding troops but has shown an aptitude for management and influence. Hasdrubal believes it is this aptitude that will lead his faction forward after his death.

257BC
Hasdrubal sees that Carthaginian finances are critical for survival and believes the only hope is the capture of Syracuse. In preparation for this he cancels the alliance with the Greeks. He strengthens the navies around Sicily for the expected backlash from the Greeks as well as the continuing attacks from the Romans. News reaches us of a plague in Cordoba which is severely weakening our garrison. We are unable to reinforce it at present as all troops are needed around Sicily and Carthage.

256BC
Theages easily takes Syracuse from its small Greek garrison and the survivors are enslaved. Our strengthened navy manages to defeat Greek, Julii, Brutii and Gaul navies. This enabled us to stop Greek, Julii and Brutii reinforcements which were being transported to Sicily. The Numidians look threatening as 3 small Numidian armies camp outside Thapsus and a Numidian agent is detected and executed.



255BC
Our navy manages to defeat Greek, Scipii and Brutii navies. This enabled us to stop Brutii reinforcements which were being transported to Sicily. Unfortunately our navy did not manage to apprehend a Julii army that landed and laid siege to Caralis. The Spanish took advantage of the plague-weakened garrison at Corduba and laid siege. The Numidians also unsurprisingly laid siege to Thapsus.

254BC
Our navy manages to defeat Greek and Spanish navies but was surprised and beaten by a pirate navy. Asdroubas sallies from Thapsus and manages to defeat the sieging Numidians. This proves to be a feint by the Numidians who immediately lay siege to our capital Carthage. Bisaltes shows himself to be a Confident Commander by relieving the siege of Caralis. The Spanish defeat our plague-weakened garrison at Corduba and Hasdrubals brother Theopanes is killed in the fighting.



253BC
Our navy manages to defeat Julii and Brutii navies. This enabled us to stop Brutii reinforcements which were being transported to Sicily. Bisaltes hunts down the remaining Julii army on Caralis and shows them no mercy. Hasdrubal sallies forth from Carthage and easily defeats the sieging Numidians.

252BC
Both the Egyptians and Seleucids accept trade rights but refuse an alliance. Both Carthage and Thapsus are blockaded by the Spanish but our navy breaks the blockades. Our navy manages to defeat a pirate navy.

251BC
News reaches us that the Macedon faction has been destroyed. Again the Egyptians and Seleucids refuse an alliance. Caralis is blockaded by the Julii. Muttanbaal marries Juba who has proven himself to be a Good Commander.

250BC
Our navy manages to defeat Julii and Spanish navies. This enabled us to stop a Spanish army which was being transported to Carthage. Pirates defeat our navy in an ambush. The navy was carrying Adroubas and an army destined for Parma. The army survives but the navy is severely weakened. Our faction leader Hasdrubal dies and Theages becomes the new faction leader.

[YAKOBU]

249BC
Theage becomes leader of the Carthaginian faction on the death of his father Hasdrubal who died peacefully in his sleep. He sees that his faction has many enemies and that to survive he must carve out ceasefires and alliances where possible.
Admiral Bodinelqart defeats a Brutii fleet that was carrying a large army. Admiral Philosir sinks a Greek fleet that blockaded Thapsus. The Gauls blockade Syracuse.
The Numidians reject a ceasefire.
News reaches us that the Seleucids are destroyed.
The Julii besiege Caralis with a small army.

248BC
Admiral Bodinelqart again defeats a Brutii fleet that was carrying a large army. Admiral Philosir catches up with the Brutii fleet and sinks it along with the army. Admiral Bodinelqart is then ambushed by pirates and his weakened fleet is defeated. The Julii blockade Caralis.
Bisaltes sallies from Caralis and defeats the small Julii army.
Juba is ambushed at the border by the Numidians but defeats them in a heroic victory.



On the way back to Thapsus he also defeats 2 small Numidian armies. The Numidians siege Thapsus.
The Greeks request a ceasefire and we accept along with trade rights. The Spanish accept a ceasefire along with trade rights. The SPQR reject a ceasefire.

247BC
Admiral Ahiram and Admiral Philosir join forces to sink a Julii fleet along with its large army. Admiral Bodinelqart defeats a Brutii fleet that was carrying a small army. Admiral Ahiram catches up with the Brutii fleet and sinks it along with the army. Admiral Philosir sinks a Julii fleet blockading Caralis.
Juba relieves the siege of Thapsus.
The Gauls agree to a ceasefire and accept an alliance and trade rights. Pontus accept trade rights.
Abascantus comes of age and is already renowned as a military genius.

246BC
The Numidians again reject a ceasefire.
News reaches us that the Thracians are destroyed.

245BC
The Julii blockade Syracuse.

244BC
Admiral Bodinelqart defeats the Julii fleet to break the blockade of Syracuse. The Julii then blockade Thapsus.
Abascantus sets of by sea with an army to try and retake Palma from the Julii.
The Greeks accept an alliance.

243BC
Admiral Bodinelqart sinks a Julii fleet blockading Syracuse.
The Brutii lay siege to Messana.

242BC
Admiral Ahiram with the help of the Gauls defeats a Julii fleet carrying a small army. The weakened Admiral Ahiram and the Gauls are then defeated by the Julii navy. Admiral Bodinelqart defeats a Brutii fleet that was carrying a small army.
Abascantus lands at Palma and immediately attacks. Palma is garrisoned by the legendary Quintus Julius but Abascantus defeats him and enslaves the population.



Theages relieves the siege of Messana.



241BC
Admiral Ahiram sinks the Julii fleet to break the blockade of Thapsus. Admiral Bodinelqart sinks a Brutii fleet that was carrying a small army. The Numidians again reject a ceasefire.

240BC
The Julii blockade Caralis.
The Numidians siege Thapsus.

239BC
Admiral Bodinelqart and the Gauls are defeated by a Brutii fleet.
Bisaltes sieges and takes the Numidian capital of Cirta enslaving the population.



Asdroubas relieves the siege of Thapsus.
A small Scipii army lands near Caralis.

[TinCow]

The wind whipped through his hair as the screams of dying horses filled his ears. With his eyes closed, Asdroubas Ilipa, brother of Chief Magistrate Theages, gripped his mount hard and shouted with joy. He never felt as alive as he did when he was leading men into battle. The rush filled him and he opened his eyes to see the spectacle unfolding around him.

The land was mainly barren pasture with a few small trees scattered across the horizon. They were too far from Lepcis Magna now to see any farmland or other indications of habitation. The only evidence of civilization at all was the shallow dirt road running off to the west and the small line of wagons behind him. It was the wagons that had made this place important, at least for a day. His scouts had reported the previous morning that a Numidian nobleman was making his way towards the city with a small guard of about a hundred men. Apparently they were unaware that Lepcis Magna had fallen only weeks before. Asdroubas had ridden out to meet them.

He had brought on the Long Shields with him this time, leaving the rest of the light horse and the mercenaries inside the city. The population was not large enough to threaten the army with a revolt, but the men deserved to rest and Asdroubas had known it would be more like a hunt than a battle.

Asdroubas had been in Thapsus when Theages had taken over the role of Chief Magistrate.



The old traditions separating civil governance and military command had come to an end with the beginning of what some Romans were apparently calling the Punic War. Members of the oligarchy served both functions now, as necessity required. In the summer of 238, Asdroubas had given the governorship of the city to Juba Utica and gone to confront the Numidians.

Carthage and Sicily had been relatively secure, but Thapsus had remained weak. The wooden walls had not provided much of an obstacle to an attacking army and the garrison of poorly trained town militia and “Iberian” infantry had been ineffective fighters at best. To the west and the south, sizeable Numidian forces roamed the countryside, causing devastation wherever they went. Thapsus had been besieged no less than three times in recent years. Asdroubas had known that if something was not done, Thapsus would soon be under siege again.

Something was exactly what he had decided to do. Leaving the slow infantry behind, he had ridden forth at dawn with his personal guard and 150 mounted men. Two-thirds of them had been the lightly armed Round Shields, with only 42 of the more heavily armed Long Shields. They had not been a powerful force, but they were not mean to destroy the enemy, only to harass them. Asdroubas had decided to make a lightning quick strike against the nearest Numidian force, inflicting as many casualties as possible before withdrawing to the city. The enemy had been more than double their number and had not expected this sort of attack. As it turned out, neither had Asdroubas.



He had divided his men into two groups. The more numerous Round Shields would ride into the Numidian right flank while Asdroubas’ guard and the Long Shields attacked the left.



Their advance had been so swift that the enemy had not been able to prepare a suitable defensive line. The cavalry had ridden into the enemy skirmishers on both sides and scattered them like chaff in the wind.



The strike had gone so well, that no one had even looked for the command to withdraw. Just as well, since Asdroubas had not given it. With the flanks in flight, both wings instinctually wheeled towards the enemy spearmen in the center. Those men had put up a much more vigorous fight, mauling the Round Shields in particular, but repeated charges to their rear had eventually broken them. In the end, the Numidian captain and his small group of mounted skirmishers had been all that remained of the 400 strong force.



An organized charge by the Carthaginians had brought them down too.



Baal had blessed them. Though only half the men had returned to Thapsus that evening, none of the enemy would ever see home. The celebrations and feasts had gone on for the next two days. The second night, Asdroubas had had a dream. In the dream, a tall, pale angel with blue eyes had spoken to him.

“The desert is an ocean in which no oar is dipped,” the angel had said, “and on this ocean, horsemen go where they please and strike where they please. This is the way the Parthians have always fought. They are famed throughout the world for fighting in this way and this is the way Carthage should fight now.” He had woken, but the words had remained. With a massive amount of territory to control, few cities from which to recruit, and only poorly trained infantry to man a battle line, Asdroubas had discovered a new way of winning wars for Carthage.

He had assembled all the mounted men that Carthage and Thapsus could provide over the next year. More than two hundred Long Shields and more than two hundred and fifty Round Shields had ridden out of Thapsus in the summer of 237, following the coast south towards Lepcis Magna.

When they had finally neared the city, a small band of Libyan mercenaries had been hired to build and man a single ram to open a passage through the walls. Before construction could be finished though, a Numidian army had attempted to break the siege.



As before, Asdroubas had split his men into two flanking forces, this time with each sporting a mix of the lighter Round Shields and the more heavily armed Long Shields.



As they had closed on each flank, the Long Shields had engaged and held the enemy from one direction while their companions circled and charged from the rear. Under the ferocious assault that broke upon them, the enemy had been quickly inundated.



Not even the main body of spearmen had been able to hold out that time, as horsemen had come at them from every direction.



The victory had been total, the losses few, and the city taken.




Asdroubas could see a group of Long Shields riding towards him now; the hunt was done. One of them pulled ahead of the others and approached him. It was Timasion, one of his captains, and he was breathing heavily.

“General, the nobleman escaped into the desert alone.” Timasion bowed his head. “We regret that his horse was too fast for us.”

Asdroubas waved his hand dismissively. “It is no matter. One man is of no threat to us, even if he is of Numidian nobility. Gather your men, we need to return to the city and prepare.”

The captain straightened a bit. “Prepare for what, sir?”

Asdroubas stared off to the west. “Dimmidi, via Nepte.”

Timasion blinked. “You are mad. To come to Dimmidi from the east, you should have to cross the Sahara Desert.”

Asdroubas turned to look at him. ”That's right.”

“The Sahara cannot be crossed.”

Asdroubas smiled, “I will cross it if you will.

Timasion’s jaw dropped. ”You! It takes more than a horse, General. The Sahara is the worst place Ba’al created.”

”I cannot answer for the place,” replied Asdroubas, ”only for myself. Five hundred men are all we will need.”

”Five hundred?” The captain couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “Against Numidia?”

”If five hundred men came out of the Sahara, there would be five hundred men other men might join.” Asdroubas looked off into the west. “There are mercenaries there I hear.”

”Mercenaries are brigands. They will sell themselves to anyone.”

The general nodded. ”Good fighters, though.”

”Good... yes.” The captain reluctantly admitted. “There are walls at Dimmidi.”

”They are wooden, Timasion, and cannot be strengthened in time. If we approach from the east, without warning, there will be no stone walls at Dimmidi.”

The captain threw up his arms, “With good reason! It cannot be approached from the east.”

”Certainly the Numidans don't dream of it.” Asdroubas lifted his arm and pointed to the setting sun. “Dimmidi is over there. It's only a matter of going.”

”You are mad.”

Asdroubas grinned.

[TinCow]

Through the gate, Abascantus Ilipa watched the Carthaginian army deploying in the field north of the city. It was an awesome sight. The Gauls, encamped on the hills to the north, would have an equally spectacular view, though perhaps they would not appreciate it quite as he did.



For the third time in a year, a Gallic force had approached the walls of Corduba, threatening to besiege the city. For the third time in a year, Abascantus had turned out the entire garrison to meet them. The city was restless due to the large Gallic influence that had seeped into the culture during the years it was lost to Carthage, but not even the most rebellious citizens would rise up during a single-day sally.

Twice before the army had deployed in front of Corduba and twice before the Gauls had seen the size of their enemy and left without a fight. Abascantus yearned for a real battle; he had not seen one for some time.

He had sailed from Palma at the same time as Bisaltes had left from Cirta. It was an organized, two-pronged campaign in the tradition of Ba’al. Abascantus would go by sea and retake Corduba from the Spanish while Bisaltes went by land and took Tingi from the Numidians. Once accomplished, the two armies could support each other, using Abascantus’ fleet to bridge the short stretch of water between them.

Abascantus and his men had been the first of the two forces to reach their destination. They had fallen upon Corduba in the summer of 235. The city had been lost to the Spanish barbarians two decades before, but upon landing the Carthaginian scouts reported that it was Gallic forces who occupied the city. There had never been any major conflicts between Carthage and Gaul and Hasdrubal had overseen the formation of a nominal alliance with them against Roman aggression. Regardless, Coduba was a Carthaginian city and it would remain a Carthaginian city no matter which people occupied it.

Out of respect for the alliance, Abascantus had sent a messenger to the city informing them that the Carthaginians had come to reclaim their territory. No answer had been received and the messenger had not returned. That had pleased him. He had employed his men in the construction of siege equipment in expectation of just such an event.




His forces had vastly outnumbered the unprepared Gauls. Using the rams and a half dozen elephants to breach the walls on two sides of the city, the Carthaginians had flooded into the streets. The defenders were quickly swept aside until only a group of elite swordsmen remained, guarding the city square. Abascantus had faced them down with a wall of spearmen, seventeen deep.



The Gauls valiantly tried to break through the front ranks, but they were too few and the spears too many. A charge by the Long Shields had finally finished them off.




Life had been boring for Abascantus since then. Merchants brought news of the destruction of the Germanic and Parthian peoples, hinting at the great wars that were being fought elsewhere.




In Corduba though, there was only governance. The people were restless after so much time away from civilized influence. The city itself looked more Gallic than Carthaginian. Despite the constant work keeping order and administering to the new construction projects, Abascantus was bored. He had been born to be a general, not a governor. The aborted Gallic sieges had given him hope of some excitement, but their reluctance to fight had frustrated him to no ends.

The army was almost done assembling in front of the north gate now. The few elephants left to him had remained in the city and the skirmishers guarded the walls over the gate, but the rest of his army was now spread out on the plain before him. He rode eagerly to the front of the ranks.

“MEN! It looks like we will have a little entertainment today!” The army cheered, they were bored of garrison duty as well. “Perhaps those barbarians over there will have more courage than their brothers! Perhaps we shall…”

A low murmur had begun in the army. A few men pointed. Abascantus turned to look at the hill. He watched for a moment then threw down his sword and spat on the ground.

“BLOODY COWARDS!”

Another Gallic army was walking away without a fight.

“COME BACK HERE YOU DEGENERATE BASTARDS!”

Abascantus was enraged. He would never get his battle, his tactical abilities would go to waste and he would spend the rest of his life as a glorified clerk. No. No, that was unacceptable. He would take his army out after them. If glory would not come to him, he would go and take it himself.

He would need to calm the unrest in the city first though; he would not have it revolting against Carthaginian rule while his men were afield.

“I’ll turn them all into proper civilized people if I have to bathe every single stinking last one of them myself,” he muttered to the quickly emptying hill. “I’ll pave the roads with gold if I have to, but when I’m done…” Abascantus watched as the green last flag dipped below the horizon in front of him.

Yes, when he was done, it would be time to play.

[TinCow]

*THUMP*

*THUMP*

Javelins were falling all around him. A scream came from the right side of the ram. Out of the corner of his eye, Thero could see another militiaman run forward from the waiting body to take the place of the man who had been struck.

*THUMP*

The gate was heavily splintered and buckling now, it would not be long before it finally burst open. The rams working on the walls on either side would take a bit longer, but soon enough there would be three gaping holes in Tingi’s fortifications. Then the real battle would begin.

The sooner the better, as far as Thero was concerned. Militia were not meant for this kind of fighting. He had signed up to help keep order in the city, to stop thieves and murderers, not to fight a war. Most of the other two-hundred and fifty odd men of the town militia felt the same way. They were natives of this city, not invaders. When the revolt had come though, they had had no choice but to flee with the army.

The riots had begun immediately after the Carthaginians had occupied the city. Bisaltes had been generous, for a conquering general. The sack that the city had so feared had never come. For the most part, only the few foolish men who had attempted to make a stand in the town square had been killed.





There had been no massacre, no enslavement and little rapine. The occupation itself had been relatively benign, in Thero’s mind. The Carthaginians were not an alien people; they worshiped the same Gods and followed the same traditions. It reality life had not changed much for the peasants. Numidian or Carthaginian, it had only really been a change in the ruling nobility. If anything, the immediate repair of public buildings and the construction of a new sewer system had actually made their lives better.

Many clearly did not think of it like this though. Rumors had it that the city’s merchant class had lost a great deal of business, with the incoming Carthaginian traders receiving preference in all deals, and had instigated the violence by bribing the rioters. Perhaps it was true, perhaps not. Regardless, on the eve of the first anniversary of the occupation, someone had murdered Bisaltes in his bed. The Carthaginian army had lost control and erupted into a murderous frenzy. Almost three thousand people had died in the resulting violence, nearly all of them Numidian.



The city had been quiet for a day or two after that, but soon fresh riots sprung up everywhere, this time with popular support. The garrison had been trapped inside their barracks for nearly a week before Captain Ribaddi had fought his way out of the city, miraculously without the loss of a single man. Even though they were natives, the town militia had been forced to flee as well. The rioters were enraged and anyone who tried to stop them, be it native or foreigner, was the enemy. Houses were looted, women raped, and innocent citizens were killed in an orgy of violence.



Remarkably, after the mayhem had subsided, the core members of mob managed to turn themselves into something of an army. Most were armed with nothing more than a few javelins and knives, but a large number had taken up reed shields and spears and over a hundred had somehow found horses and formed themselves into a rudimentary cavalry. They were not highly trained or well armed, but they were fanatical and they were numerous, with half again the numbers of the Carthaginians and the town militia.

Runners had immediately been sent to the coast to request help from General Abascantus in Corduba. In the meantime, the garrison had invested the city, planning to starve the rebellious population into submission or await the arrival of reinforcements to aid them in retaking the city. There had been some quiet discussion amongst the town militia about whether to desert, but it was apparent that the Carthaginians would be on the winning side eventually. Even if this army failed, another would soon follow. There were whispers that Nepte had fallen to a Carthaginian army that had appeared out of thin air, though some said that renegade desert mercenaries had taken the place and others that the desert had swallowed the city whole as penance for angering Ba’al. Regardless, everyone agreed that the city was lost. That left Dimmidi as the only other Numidian city west of Cyrene. Perhaps Tingi could hold out for a few more years, but even that was unlikely. In the end it would fall, and the wrath of the Carthaginians would be great. Word was spreading that the city would be made an example of, for the death of Bisaltes. When Captain Ribaddi had made it known that the families and property of all town militiamen would be safe from enslavement and confiscation, the issue had been decided.

There was still the small matter of surviving though. The siege had lasted nearly a year before word came from Corduba. A reinforcement army had landed several weeks before, on the coast east of the city. No sooner had they begun to march though than a massive Numidian column had been sighted only two days ride to the south. Heavily outnumbered and with no defensible terrain, the reinforcements had re-embarked and sailed home to Corduba. Not only was the garrison alone, but they were outside the walls and about to be assailed by a professional force even larger than the untrained one inside the city.

The decision had been made quickly. There was nowhere to run to, no chance of escape. The garrison could not hope to defeat the new arrivals in the field, much less the combined forces of both armies. There was only one chance: storm the city immediately and then hold the walls long enough for Corduba to send a larger relief force. So, here Thero found himself, manning a ram, pounding on the gates to his own city.



*THUMP*

A sharp bang partially stunned him as the locking bar finally split and the gates were slammed open. He quickly shook his head and began to heave on the ram, pulling back and away, to clear the opening for the Carthaginians waiting in massed ranks behind them. Once the ram was clear of the gate, the militia commander ordered them back from the walls. The heavy fighting would be done by the trained soldiers.



As soon as the path was clear, a loud cry came from the rear and a mass of cavalry came charging forward. With Captain Ribaddi at their head, they stormed through the gate and cut into the skirmishers on the other side. Thero craned his neck, but it was impossible to see what was going on on the other side. He knew one thing though, men were dying.



Moments later, the walls on either side came crashing down as both remaining rams finally broke through. The militiamen manning those engines similarly retreated from the walls and joined their bretheren farther back. Carthaginian spearmen and swordsmen poured into these new breaches. The roar of battle continued for some time, but eventually a runner came back from the gate area and ordered the militia forward.



The sounds of battle were still present, but they had diminished. As they crossed back into their home city, a scene of carnage unfolded around them. Dead men and horses lay scattered everywhere around the gate. A few small groups of Numidians still fought in the street, but most had either fallen or retreated into the city. The Carthaginians themselves looked mostly untouched. The Captain’s cavalry charge had taken the brunt of the fighting; pulling the majority of the Numidians towards them in a rush that had allowed them to be flanked by the infantry that came through the walls on either side. Half of the Round Shields were down, but there were few losses amongst the infantry.

Captain Ribaddi galloped up to the militia commander. “Take your men up that street there,” he said, gesturing to the western of the two streets that ran from the wall to the town square. “They have fallen back to the center and we will have to fight them there. The infantry will all go up the eastern street and we will then attack them from both sides.”

“We will have no soldiers with us, sir?” asked the suddenly ashen faced commander.

“No, the infantry will go in first and try to pull most of the enemy towards them. Your job will be to flank the enemy once they are committed. Fear not, my cavalry will ride with you. I’ll keep an eye on you and make sure your men come through this.” With that he turned and galloped off towards a unit of Carthaginian spearmen.

The militia commander took a deep breath, then turned and faced his men. “Well, you heard him, get moving!”

Ten minutes later, they were lined up in the street just outside the square. They could hear a massive fight going on to the east, and the men fidgeted nervously. Some kept their eyes on the ground, some examined their spear points, all prayed. The sound of hooves came from behind them and the ranks opened to allow the cavalry through.

“It is time men! Take back your city!” cried Captain Ribaddi, and charged forward into the square, sword raised high. There was a slight hesitation, but then, as one, the militia broke into a cheer and rushed forward. As Thero rounded the corner, the whole square came into view. To the right was a giant melee with blue and white standards intermingled so thoroughly that it was impossible to tell where one army ended and the other began. The one thing that was clear was that the Carthaginian infantry had not drawn off the entirety of the enemy. A large group of cavalry and spearmen remained uncommitted to the fight. It was towards these men that Captain Ribaddi was leading the charge.

Thero was several ranks back when the militia charge met the spearmen, but the impact was so jarring that his ears rang for an extended moment afterwards. It was impossible to see what was going on in front of him, but there was a constant movement forward. The men in the back were pushing the men in the front into the fight. As the minutes passed, the ranks in front of him began to slowly thin and Thero started to see flashes of blue in between the white cloaks of his companions.

All of a sudden there was shouting from his left and he glimpsed a small group of horsemen retreating from the battle at a gallop. A low murmur grew behind Thero and his ears caught a few words. “hurt… dead… Captain… running…”

He did not have time to concentrate on what was meant though, as at that moment the man in front of him suddenly cried out and fell to the ground. Thero found himself face to face with a man in a blue robe. The eyes held a curious mixture of terror and determination; it looked as if he wanted to run, but some powerful force was compelling him to stand. In the shock of the moment, Thero froze and gaped. The man did not. Thero’s mind registered the point coming towards him and he instinctually raised his shield.



The blow nearly caused him to lose his grip, but he recovered and shifted his weight to better resist the next impact. Moments later, it came. As soon as he felt the spear hit, he blindly stabbed out with his own weapon, low and to the right. He heard a scream and felt some resistance on the shaft. Thero gave it a second shove, then pulled it back and peered over his shield. The man had dropped his spear and reed shield and was clutching at a red spot on his side. His eyes met Thero’s for a brief moment, before another spear took him in the throat.

There was no one in front of Thero now, the man had apparently been one of the last left standing. Across the square, he could see several groups of blue robed men with their backs to him. Those around him saw it too. They roared in fear and rage… and charged.

[TinCow]

Theages was dead. The great defender of Sicily had passed into history, and now Adonibal Olisipo found himself as the defender of the island. For decades the experienced General and Governor had protected Carthage from the Romans. During his time as Chief Magistrate, the Empire had expanded and prospered. Now he was gone.



Adonibal sighed and stared blankly at the messenger. He had been the governor of Massilia for years now, personally appointed by Theages. His city was the primary target of every Roman army and was constantly under the threat of siege and blockade. Yet throughout all of this, Theages had remained in Syracuse and personally overseen the defense of the island.

“Numbers, young man. We win by numbers.” Theages had told him once during his youth. It was true; no army in the world could match the Roman at individual skill at arms. Some elites, like the Spartans could best them, but they were few and but a small component of the Greek forces. Those who defeated the Romans only did so by overwhelming them. Carthage was no different.

Any foe, no matter how strong, could be overcome if sufficient numbers were brought and proper tactics used. This had been demonstrated time and time again. Military advisors had lately taken to using a small battle outside of Caralis as an example. There town militia had overcome two units of the elite Roman Triarii with only the help of some lightly armed swordsmen. Of course, the Triarii had been outnumbered five to one and attacked from all directions…




“With numbers, we will never lose; but without quality, we will never win.” Theages had believed that and he had won the arguments. If the war was ever to be taken to Roman territory, Carthage would need to be able to beat them in a straight fight. Reinforcements could not be guaranteed for an army far afield in enemy territory. It must be able to be self-sufficient and durable enough to win victories without having to return to a friendly province afterwards. This could only be done with highly trained men armed with the finest equipment money could buy.

Theages had set this in motion. He had ordered the construction of a supreme temple in Carthage that would also serve as the training grounds for a new type of warrior; the Sacred Band. Inspired by the legendary Spartans, they would fight in a phalanx formation. They would be recruited from amongst only the most fanatical of Ba’al worshipers, ensuring that they would stand their ground when other men would flee in terror. Their training would last twice as long as other soldiers and they would receive the most expensive armor and weapons that Carthage could provide.

This was but one aspect of a triumvirate of arms that Theages had proposed though. The Sacred Band was the anvil on which the enemy would be held firm, but the hammer that would break them would be far different. For this purpose, he had laid out plans for elite mounted warriors, the likes of which the world had never seen. Elephants had long been used for battle, but the Chief Magistrate proposed to armor them, creating nearly invincible monsters of terror and destruction. Combined with Sacred Band warrior mounted on horseback, these units would shatter the enemy and lay waste to their formations.

It was a beautiful dream, but for now it was only a dream. The temple in Carthage had been completed several years ago, and several trained units of Sacred Band now stood ready for battle, but the facilities required to train the elite mounted warriors who would round out the grand armies had a long way to go. For now, numbers would have to do.

The navy helped as well. In 237, Admiral Bodinelqart had sunk a Roman fleet ferrying a massive force to the island. It was perhaps not the most glorious manner of fighting, but it worked and it saved lives.




The navy could not intercept all enemies though and Roman armies regularly appeared on the Sicilian shores. Messana itself had been besieged several times, most significantly in 231 when a monstrous Roman army led by a competent General and supplied with mobile siege equipment had appeared to the south.



Theages had emptied Syracuse of troops and fallen upon the Romans from behind.




With the majority of the Romans drawn off, Adonibal had overwhelmed the smaller detachment and then moved on to engage the main body from behind.





It had been called a joint victory, but all knew it was Theages who had won it. The Chief Magistrate had not been a tactical genius, but he was a wise man. His brother, Asdroubas was far more skilled in the arts of war. After his remarkable capture of Nepte and Dimmidi, the people had begun calling him Asdroubas the Conqueror. Yet no one had ever referred to Theages as “the Great” or “the Wise.” Perhaps his reputation would grow with the years, as the empire prospered. Perhaps he would be forgotten.

The celebrations had been raucous on the election of Asdroubas to the position of Chief Magistrate. All were sure that the mighty general would defeat all of Carthages enemies. Adonibal believed so too, but how would the empire fare when Asdroubas was not at the front, directing every action? The great Numidian army that had threatened Tingi had disappeared into the desert. Even now the garrisons of Tingi, Dimmidi, and Cirta watched the horizon with wary eyes. What would happen in Iberia, where the Gaul lay unconfronted, their armies massive and growing stronger every day? Most importantly to Adonibal, what would happen in Sicily? The great defender was gone and now only he remained.

Carthage had expanded and prospered. Yet to the north lay the endless hordes of Gallic warriors, to the east, beyond the vast deserts, lay Ptolemaic Egypt, with all its might, and just over the horizon, Rome waited, deadliest of all and hungry for power.

[Severous]

A new day.

I take a look at the powers of our world. My vision is not as good as Tin Cow...the fog of war restricts my campaign map view...but the graphs tell me much.



Our allies the Greeks are top. That is good. They can have that area of the world and can fight who they want. Hopefully they will engage Brutii.

Egypt are next. They could be a threat but Nubian Siwa lies between us. I will leave that unchanged.

Gaul. ah yes. A common foe. I have scores to settle here. They killed the faction heir the last time I pitted Carthage against them.

We are Carthage and we lie 4th. Soon to be third.

Pontus are 5th and of no concern.

Time for a battle before lunch.


Report will follow within 24 hours.