The Legacy of Megas Alexandros - a seleucid AAR

[Lysimachos]

Chapter 2: Prize of the day

The man quickly ascends the bank where the greatest tent marks the center of the encampment. He is clad in expensive armor and in his hand he holds a helmet decorated with two plumes. The guards at the tent salute him and lead him through the entrance.
The tent is huge and parted in several sections, each of them big enough to shelter a Pentekostys. The man, having been in the bright sunlight, blinks, until he can see more clearly in the semi-darkness of the tent. It is highly decorated with fine weapons and armor, furs of a white bengal tiger, a leopard and an asiatic black bear and excellent artistry in painted clay, gold and silver, from India and all over the seleucid realm.
In the center sits his king, Antiochos, son of Seleukos and descendant of Apollo himself, called Soter – Saviour – because he defeated the seemingly invincible galatian hordes, ruler of an empire that stretches from the Aegean to the borders of India. He sits there, concentrated, fingers at his temples, surrounded by clerks and secretaries. One of them is slowly reading some figures to his king. Antiochos beckons him to stop, as he has sighted his Somatophylax entering the tent.
“Philippos, my companion in many battles. What is your desire?”-”The city has send a delegation. They wish to negotiate.” Antiochos slightly nodded. “I will meet them outside. But let them wait. I won't be summoned by slaves.”-”As you order, my king.” Antiochos waves away the clerks and calls for the Pais basilikos, the royal page, to put on his best armor.

Antiochos steps out of the tent, into the sunlight that is reflected by the polished metal and makes him shine himself, a true warrior king, helmet on his head, Kopis by his side and the scars on his skin bear witness of countless battles.
“Ah, Philippos!” he calls the Somatophylax who is waiting there, holding the reins of the Basileus' horse. The leap onto the horse reveals the strength which the king's body still possesses, but his eyes seem tired. Antiochos leans down to the side where his bodyguard stands. “Philippos, tell me, how can a man bear the wish to be a king? It is no gift, it is a burden, which the gods put on my shoulders to test my strength.” Philippos silently looks up to his king. Then, after a moment, he, who knows that Antiochos had to have his own first born son executed for treason, speaks in a light voice. “I have fought in many fights, side by side with you, my king, and maybe there will be the day that I will give my life to protect yours. I can not, and no other man can, help you bear this burden, but I will do anything to prevent you from perishing under it, as I have sworn and will do again if you deem it appropriate.”
The two men look at each other in silence, until Antiochos straightens up. “So let us finish this.”

Antiochos slowly rides through the camp. In the south the Polis of Tarsos on the Cydnos, most important settlement in Kilikia, is to be seen. Antiochos had several reasons to lead his host here, away from Syria. Who controls Tarsos, controls Kilikia and Kilikia has some passes, broad enough to march an army through them, into the center of Asia Mikra. Antiochos still has the wish to dominate the rich region, but without a direct route from Syria the only connection would be through Armenia. The kilikian coast offers several harbors and an intact port under control of Ptolemaios situated in the back of Syria would always pose a considerable threat. At last, Antiochos had hoped that Ptolemaios would recognize the importance of Tarsos for his enemy and send an army, so a decisive battle could be fought, because the war in Syria has become sort of a stalemate.

A trumpet's flourish announced his coming. The delegation is waiting on the camp's drillground, surrounded by guards, who form a cordon for their king. Antiochos slowly approaches and examines the emissaries, a dozen men, civilians, no one in military attire. He stops his horse some meters away. “So, what is this about?”
The party's leader makes a step forward and takes a bow. “My name is Cratippos Pisidikos, Basileus. The folk of our city has send us to speak with you. We are here to negotiate the terms of surrender.”
“Negotiate?” Antiochos leads his horse so its head is only an arm's length away from the emissary's emaciated face, then he leans forward and calmly begins to speak: “You want to discuss terms, so I'll tell you my terms: You surrender or you will die. These terms are not open to negotiations.” He pronounces every syllable of the last word with emphasis. Then Antiochos looks over the scared faces of the delegates. He raises his voice.
“You are forgotten, none will come to save you. I will stay here, slaughter your lambs and harvest your grain and it will nourish my soldiers. I will stay here until the hunger makes you eat your dead. I will stay here until mothers will relish the flesh of their own children and I will sit here and watch, drink persian wine and eat rhodian olives and the breast of a syrian dove. I will hold court in front of the gates to your city until therein no single man will have the strength to take another breath!”
After these words he turns his horse towards the cordon and leaves the delegation behind. Silence falls on the square, only the clapping of the horse's hooves and the wind, blowing from the sea, remain.
“Wait, Basileus! We accept your terms! Please, show mercy!”
Antiochos again turns back and with a cold smile on his face his gaze rests on Tarsos, prize of this day.

[Aaldaemon]

Mooooooore! Mooooooore! Mooooore!

You have Antiochos, by the Gods, you have him! Loved this to bits! I want to pull out my hair for not trying to do a Seleucid aar , because now I'll never try to do one - yours is already showing to be just way too good.

Moooreeee! Mooore! Mooore!
<=======is officialy addicted.

[Lysimachos]

Mooooooore! Mooooooore! Mooooore!

You have Antiochos, by the Gods, you have him! Loved this to bits! I want to pull out my hair for not trying to do a Seleucid aar , because now I'll never try to do one - yours is already showing to be just way too good.

Moooreeee! Mooore! Mooore!
<=======is officialy addicted.

Urm, thank you. I have not dreamed to have a junkie from just two small chapters

I realized i have to correct some spelling errors...

[Aaldaemon]

Urm, thank you. I have not dreamed to have a junkie from just two small chapters

I realized i have to correct some spelling errors...

What can I say, I just can't resist quality storytelling and Seleucids mixed together.

And spelling, smelling, don't worry about it... the only suggestion I would make - and this is JUST a minor personal preference - don't take it as criticism - is to add a few more spaces to delimitate paragraphs some more - like for example the second part of the first entry is one big wall of text - a good one though.

[Lysimachos]

the only suggestion I would make - and this is JUST a minor personal preference - don't take it as criticism - is to add a few more spaces to delimitate paragraphs some more - like for example the second part of the first entry is one big wall of text - a good one though.

You mean the part with the battle? I had put it in one block to make it less easy to read to enhance the effect of those sentence fragments, but i'll think about what can be done about it.

[Aaldaemon]

You mean the part with the battle? I had put it in one block to make it less easy to read to enhance the effect of those sentence fragments, but i'll think about what can be done about it.

Ah, I see, it makes sense now. Ignore my suggestion then in that case - I guess it's well thought out that way and works well.

[Maion Maroneios]

Great AAR, finally Arche Seleukeia! Though I prefer the original Makedones, I sincerely hope you manage to reconquer Alexandros' Empire and even beyond that! Would do with some battle pics, though;)

[Reverend Joe]

“You are forgotten, none will come to save you. I will stay here, slaughter your lambs and harvest your grain and it will nourish my soldiers. I will stay here until the hunger makes you eat your dead. I will stay here until mothers will relish the flesh of their own children and i will sit here and watch, drink persian wine and eat rhodian olives and the breast of a syrian dove. I will hold court in front of the gates to your city until therein no single man will have the strength to take another breath!”

Now that's a quote worthy of an EB loading screen.

Good job so far.

[Lysimachos]

Now that's a quote worthy of an EB loading screen.

Good job so far.

Thank you very much, that is some compliment :)

At max 24 hours till next update, though i'm not fully satisfied with it yet...

[Ibrahim]

you put Genkis khan to shame wth the threat..

[I of the Storm]

Take your time...

[Lysimachos]

Chapter 3: A family reunion

The Margos is calmly streaming southward. Beyond the river lies Antiocheia Margiana. There seems to be a huge conglomerate of tents situated between city and shore, tents of many different sizes and workings. Small columns of smoke rise among the tents.
Theodoros is unsure. He has ordered his horsemen to stop a few miles south of the river, when he spotted the camp. He is waiting, thinking about whose encampment it could be.
Theodoros turns around to the Ilearches of the Arachosians. “Send some of your men to have a look. We have to know who is sitting there.”-”As you order, Strategos.” Theodoros watches the officer picking a hand full of men from his Ile.

In the bloody battle at Zadrakarta Theodoros had lost half of his infantry. The other half he left behind to secure Hyrkania and only took the cavalry with him to reach Margiana as soon as possible. He had not found much rest since his father had appointed him responsible for the eastern provinces, so the prospect of a night in a bed was tempting and further delay a serious threat to his well being.

The Arachosians quickly return. “Strategos! They are no soldiers, but refugees. They say the Sakai have overrun Sogdiana and crossed the Oxos.”-”Oh, well, refugees.” Theodoros feels a bit silly, because a bunch of fugitives worried him so much, but does not allow himself a thought about the Sakai.

The horsemen march through the streets, lined with watchers. At the front rides the Kleronomos Basileois, surrounded by his Somatophylakes, attired in expensive armor under their dusty cloaks.
The nomad riders make the people uneasy, too many have lost loved ones to warriors like this, men of the steppes.
Theodoros and his men approach the main square, where the seat of the satrap is situated, who certainly is informed of their arrival. The governor's house is a piece of greek architecture, as are most of the public buildings in the town. Antiochos had issued the rebuilding and renamed the settlement which had been known as Alexandreia for some years.
Theodoros dismounts and commands his Ilearchoi to follow him. The three men ascend the steps to the residence. The guards salute and an officer bids Theodoros to follow him.

“Ah, Theodoros. It seems the young man i knew has become a proud warrior.” It is Achaios, brother of Basileus Antiochos, uncle to Theodoros and father of Laodike, Theodoros' young wife. Theodoros does not know him well, but he remembers that the brothers are quite different in character, Achaios being less ambitious, determined and serious than his father.
Achaios has become old, but in his eyes still twinkles the wit of an uncorrectable libertine. Theodoros takes a slight bow, suitably showing respect. “I greet you, my uncle. You seem to be well. I bid you to accord my soldiers a warm meal and a bedding.”-”This shall of course be granted.” Achaios beckons one of his officers to fulfill, who leaves with Theodoros' Ilearchoi.
The king's brother rests his hand on Theodoros' shoulder. “Now you come with me.”

The two men rest on divans while one slave fills goblets with wine and another one massages Theodoros' tense neck. Achaios begins to speak. “You may not have heard news from the Basileus. He has taken Kilikia. Bustling as always, he is.” A faint smile flits around his lips.
“That is excellent news, but maybe you want to tell me about less good ones.”-”Ah, yes. We have some trouble to retain order in the province. We have called back the garrisons from Sogdiana and Dayuan, as you have ordered and now the Sakai have taken control. They obviously have a pact with the Parnoi, as they have been spotted to move together through the province. My scouts tell me, the Parnoi and Sakai are not far from the city, but i did not have the forces to confront them.”
All this bloody excitement is not to Achaios' liking, being a man of women, wealth and wine, not of weapons.
Theodoros waves the slave away, takes a big gulp of his wine and lays back. He closes his eyes and sighs. “I have brought a strong troop of cavalry. Maybe this will give us an edge. We will have to draw up a battle plan. But first, I'll have a shave.”

Once again, Theodoros rides ahead of his horsemen. He has designed a daring plan.
Achaios leads the infantry, a strong phalanx, assisted by light infantry, a dependable force, but not flexible enough to precipitate a decisive battle with the riders of the steppe. This is now Theodoros' task.
He sends out his own horse archers. They are harassing the Parnoi, provoking them to follow, to leave their infantry behind. The parnoi cavalry is drawn far away from their footmen. Then, the trap begins to close. Theodoros' Arachosians engage the enemy light cavalry, his Somatophylakes the armored Dahae nobles. They are not meant to win this fight, being outnumbered by the Parnoi, but they hold their ground, pin them down until Achaios' men arrive, quickly coming up and the fight turns in favor of the Greek. It is an intense battle, the steppe riders fight fiercely, but finally they are crushed and only few survive.
No time for rest, yet: Theodoros gathers his men, leads the cavalry in between the Parnoi infantry and their Sakai allies, who approach from the north, to force the Parnoi into another direction.
Now it is Achaios' turn again: The Phalanx quickly defeats the segregated men, while the Sakai are hesitating. They have come to late to save their allies and now they are isolated, too.
The two generals direct the army along a slope toward the riders from the east. A short exchange of arrows, a resolute push forward and the Sakai retreat, seeing no perspective in a fight.

While Achaios took care of the battlefield and the recovery of the fallen, has Theodoros kept the retreating Sakai under surveillance for some time, to make sure that they won't come back to soon.
The cavalry again joins the victorious army, as it is marching through the gates. Achaios awaits his nephew, his eyes show respect.
“You have fought well and proven bravery. My brother has to be glad to have such a son. My own sons all are useless gamblers and philanderers, just like me.” He brakes out in resounding laughter and turns his horse towards the gate.



I'm sorry for this short and unloving battle description, but the battle has been autoresolved and i just didn't get into the right mood to make up something more thrilling.

[Aaldaemon]

I'm sorry for this short and unloving battle description, but the battle has been autoresolved and i just didn't get into the right mood to make up something more thrilling.

That could very well be the best description ever of an auto-resolved battle. Good update, I see you are winning on all fronts.