Home of Senator Cnaeus Marcus Antoninus
Narnia
Roman Republic
"Ah, this is an excellent roast, as usual."
"Thank you, domine," replied the servant-cook with a sigh of relief.
"Would you care to try a piece? You deserve it, after all."
"I... I would be most honored domine..."
The other servants turned and looked at each other with confused expressions. This was rather... unusual, wasn't it? Hmmm...
"Come, come, come, come and taste this..."
The servant-cook walked over to the head of the long table in the dining hall, seating but one of a possible 40, as always.
The Senator raised his knife. The servant-cook flinched, until he realized that he was meant to grab the meat on the end of it.
Again, the other servants wracked their brains; touching the Master's cutlery?
The cook was no fool, and hesitated, glancing questioningly at the Senator, who smiled at him.
"Take it! Go on, take it! It is quite alright."
Finally breathing again, the other servants watched as the cook took the meat and placed it in his mouth.
"Delicious, isn't it?"
"Mmmmrf... yes, yes domine..."
The other servants salivated. At best they got a bit of bread and cheese from the Master every so often - and here was one of their number with a prime cut of lamb, enjoying every bite.
"Yes, very good isn't it? Cooked medium-rare to perfection."
The cook's mouth was full, and so he only nodded happily. Nodding, nodding, nodding...
...oh.
No...
Oh no...
NO!
"NRF-" the cook managed to grunt even as the Senator pierced his heart with a powerful thrust from the knife. He was dead before he hit the floor.
"I asked for well-done."
He stood and flung the knife into the wall opposite the table - right between the heads of two of his other servants, wide-eyed with horror.
"And I shall need a new knife."
*
Clap, clap, clap.
Senator Gnaeus turned around furiously as he left his dining hall, and then he saw...
"Good show, Senator, good show indeed."
"Consul Lucius... I am honored that you would stop by."
"Oh, the honor is mine, Senator. You are just the man I need."
"Am I now? For what, may I ask?"
Consul Lucius filled him in on the situation with the Celts. Almost immediately his face turned red and his eyes bulged with fury.
"Those damnable barbarians! It's high time that we wipe them out, once and for all, I say! Damn Senator Gaius' talks of peace-"
Lucius chuckled.
"Are you hear to laugh at me, Consul? Laugh at me for being right? Call a session of Congress now, and I swear I'll-"
"Oh, you need not worry, I laugh not at you. I laugh at the thought of the Celts meeting you on the field of battle."
Pause.
"What?"
"Well, if we plan on defeating the Celts, then we'll need an army, won't we? And a commander ruthless enough to lead it to overwhelming victory."
"You... you would grant me this honor?"
"Would? I already have. Your tribunes are no doubt waiting for you already."
And with that, Senator Gnaeus rushed to his stables.
***
Camp Prefect's Tent
legionary fort 10 miles northeast from Narnia
Roman Republic
"...with all due respect, legatus, you're not suggesting that we move against the Gauls with but two legions under your command?"
"On the contrary, praefectus, that is exactly what I intend to do."
Praefectus castrorum Lucas Avisius frowned. As the senior military officer of Legio IX, third in command only to the Senator and his young tribune, it was his job to frown and then explain why to his generally inept superiors.
"Speak."
"The Celts are fierce warriors, legatus, but their characteristic trademark is a penchant to launch headstrong on ill-conceived offensives."
"Are you calling me a barbarian?!"
"No. I'm saying that you are thinking as one-"
Legatus Gnaeus' face began to turn from red to purple...
"-and surely a senator as wise and with such a bloodline as yours has far greater intelligence than any mere Celt," finished Lucas, who fought the urge to roll his eyes.
"Yes! Yes, indeed! You speak well, praefectus-"
Lucas nodded, though he was bored of this conversation as of five minutes ago.
"-and no man gets into your position without skill. What would you suggest, given your experience against the Etruscans?"
Much better.
"I would march northwest, as if to Arretium."
"But that would expose Narnia entirely! Perhaps even Roma! We could be cut off entirely! Are you daft, man?!"
Red.
"We need only tease the Celts, legatus, and they will follow us, as a dog might a stick. The Gauls know they are poor at the art of siegecraft, and they are at least smart enough to realize that they cannot simply march on Narnia, else we would hit them in their arses. They must defeat us first - and of course that will be exactly what they crave, a noble fight head-to-head against their sworn enemies et cetera et cetera..."
"Get to the point!"
Purple.
"And we shall oblige them, and turn to face them - right as the two legions near Asculum have arrived in their rears."
Gnaeus' face cleared instantly and smiled with a wicked gleam in his eye.
"And then we shall have them!"
"Precisely, legatus. Precisely."
***
So it was that Legio VIII and IX began their march away from Narnia towards Arretium. At Asculum, the Sixth and Seventh milled about in confusion - or at least that was the impression they would give, as they were only waiting with bated breath for their orders to march.
This would not be a repeat of the fighting against the Celts 100 years earlier. Then, the hoplites of Roma had been destroyed by the free-moving barbarians. But now, things were different... oh, were things different...
Hastati, principes, triarii. Radical departures from their hoplite forebears, not just in tactics but in armament as well: after much discussion, they had adopted the gladius hispaniensus, a short but wickedly efficent sword, in lieu of mere spears. Little did they know that the gladius would eventually be responsible for more deaths than any other weapon in history until the advent of gunpowder.*
And in the south, too. In the south, preparations were being made in expectation of the Epirotes. Here, the Romans would encounter an opponent far better organized and equipped than any Celt - but Pyrrhus, too, would fall. It was as certain as the rising and setting of the sun. Pyrrhus would fall.
As would Carthage.
And the Successors.
And the Iberians, and the Germans, and the Parthians.
And everyone else who even dared considering opposing Roma.
It was written in the stars. It was whispered by the Gods. It was as certain as the rising and setting of the sun...
...Roma would prevail.
***
OOC:
At left, Roman triarius. He wears a bronze helmet, a bronze cuirass or iron chainmail, bronze greaves, and is armed with a hasta thrusting spear and a gladius. At right, Roman hastatus or princeps. He wears a bronze helmet, a bronze chestplate or leather cuirass, possibly a bronze greave on the left leg, and carries two thrusting pila (one "heavy", one "light") and a gladius.
Roman cavalry. They are essentially armed as a triarius but generally forgo the greaves (awkward as they are on horseback).
*Really.
Oh, and why is Carthage invading Sicily? They own Sicily. Although admittedly anyplace that's not Italia is fine with me, since it looks like Roma's being ganged up on...
Re: Roma Interactive
Originally Posted by Caius Flaminius
I accept your offer of a alliance
Re: Roma Interactive
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