Stories Thread

[navarro951]

Part II: The Story of Dentatvs

290 BC

It was the eve of battle. The last Samnites and Sabine army waited across a muddy field. The battlefield was some miles south of what is now the great Roman city of Capua.

Dentatvs had fought many battles now along side his legion,The Latium Conscription, and had finally accepted and won the nomination of Consul. He had just 7,000 men and faced nearly 7,000 Samnites and 4,000 Sabines. But his soldiers were far superior in the art of combat.

The Evening Before Battle in Dentatvs' Tent

A map was laid out across a long table. A much younger, Tribune Blasio, lay out unit markers across the map in a battle formation.

"If I may speak consul..." Blasio requested.

"You may young friend, of course" Dentatvs replied with a smile.

"Well we are obviously outnumbered, but we are not outmatched. The enemy has brought no cavalry to the fight. But we have 300 horsemen unto ourselves." Blasio placed a marker on the map to represent a cavalry unit. Dentatvs nodded, listening to his third in command with much consideration.

"Now, our good Legate Marcus had proposed to keep the cavalry as one solid unit to wing round and break the back of the enemy. But I see another plan. We separate the horse Blasio laid down another piece representing a half of the cavalry and set one on each side of the foot soldier pieces and we wing round squeezing them into a slaughter from our infantry." Blasio displayed this maneuver like a child playing war; knocking over all the pieces on the other side of the map, representing the enemy.

"Indeed a plausible idea. But our cavalry so divided? You think this a wise idea? Should they be vanquished it would leave the flanks of our men open to attack." Dentatvs slid his hand into the side of the infantry pieces.

"Indeed, but not if our best cavalrymen lead them."

Dentatvs' eyes opened widely and he grinned.

"Our best cavalrymen? And who would you say that is?"

"Well sir, you have taught me everything you know about being on horseback. And Legate Marcus, respectfully, has never failed in a charge before. I feel the both of us are up to the challenge." Blasio gulped. Dentatvs looked over to Legatus Marcus who had simply watched with a smile as the young Tribune had been laying our his plan. He looked to Dentatvs and nodded.

"Very well...then the fate of this battle may very well rest on you two. Wine!" A slave brought about three cups of wine and the three men toasted.

"To glory in battle! And the end of this tiring war!"

The cups clashed!

To be continued...

[Tiberius Claudius Marcellus]

Attention to Detail

The running footsteps of the soldiers and the metallic cacophony of their equipment were dying away down the street. That had been close, too close actually. Had it not been for this alleyway and the false wall he had accidentally discovered a week ago during a night of drunken revelry - a pleasure he should not have allowed himself - he would have been caught. The execution would have been swift, but not before the lengthy interrogation process and an all-expense paid stay in the local prison, courtesy of his unwilling Roman hosts would have been over.

Bilquart chastised himself. Yes, the prostitute had taken him to this alcove where she plied her trade; but it was probably she too who had alerted the guards to his presence after he left her a lousy tip. He had gone through too much training and too much personal sacrifice to have made such a mistake as to talk to her of his plans - even if she were intoxicated. As he thought about it now, she probably feigned drunkeness to encourage him to lower his guard so she could rob him. Fortunately, he was not as incapacitated as she had hoped. Bilquart sighed. She would have to be killed. He disliked taking lives, but it was necessary to protect his covert mission. It couldn't be a public death since the guard's suspicions would be confirmed, but die she must. He would probably have to cut off her face so that no one could recognize her - her face and her left foot, the one with the tattoo, he noted. One could never pay too much attention to detail.

Bilquart slowed his breathing and flexed each of the muscles of his well-toned body one at a time to work out the tension of his recent exertion. It was a game he had taught himself to master ennui, exhaustion, and even being exposed to cold temperatures. He had hated that last bit the most of all his training and travels. As far as Bilquart was concerened, Dido chose the most appealing spot in all the world to found a city; everywhere else, save for the impenetrable desert, was just so damned cold! As his eyes adjusted to the darkness of his current hideout he furrowed his heavy brow, as he often did when under stress, and thought of the best route back to where he had been reconnoitering the military garrison and police forces. It was much darker now and he was sure he could remain unseen even with the increased patrols The weather was too cool for the families of Rhegion to be sleeping on their rooftops tonight, so he could have an unprecedented vantage point. Before he began his work anew, he needed something to sate his hunger. No amount of stealth in the world could cover the sounds his belly was making. It irked Bilquart that those soldiers had interrupted his evening meal. Very inconsiderate, these Romans.

Bilquart foze, the dark, coarse hairs on his arms and neck stood on end. Then he heard it again - unmistakable. Roman sentries were entering the alley. They were speaking in hushed tones; but even though Bilquart couldn't understand much Latin the conversation seemed casual. There were two....no, three - the third wasn't speaking, but his footsteps were out of step with the other two. Bilquart tensed and relaxed his muscles and slowly stood up on the balls of his feet, giving himself the necessary stance to spring into action if it were needed. He smoothly drew two daggers from inside his robe and whispered a prayer to Ba'al asking him to guide his blades. Eyeing them through the slimmest of openings in the facade, he saw the soldiers reach the end of the alley and stop. They gave the area a cursory glance and continued their conversation. One of them brought out a flask and took a long draw from it, offering it to his companion when he finished. The second soldier seemed happy with the offer and readily took several gulps from the water skin. The first soldier gave him a friendly punch in the gut, causing the greedy imbiber to spray some of the liquid from his mouth. The third soldier whipped around and tore the flask away, smelling its contents. He exploded in anger at the other two soldiers and emptied the contents of the flask onto the ground. "Spirits, while on duty," thought Bilquart, "how disgustingly unprofessional."

The soldier who had been punched looked down at the ground and made an inaudible acknowledgment while the soldier who owned the flask puffed out his chest and confronted the one who ended their merriment. That affrontery resulted in a solid backhand connecting to the face of the insubordinate soldier sending him reeling backward, nearly crashing into the false wall that separated Bilquart from the Romans. Before the soldier could hit the wall, the one who struck him, obviously the most senior of the three, grabbed him and wheeled about, landing a roundhouse kick into the soldier's kidney, sending him crashing against the side wall of the alley. No sooner had he slumped to the ground, dazed then the senior sentry was on top of him, yanking him to his feet. He then kicked out the legs of the stunned offender and smashed his face into the ground where he had poured out the alcohol, rubbing his face into it. "Outstanding discipline!," thought Bilquart. He sorely wanted to engage this one in combat.

After a few seconds the victor pulled the beaten soldier to his feet and spoke slowly and deliberately, each word spoken with a venom usually reserved for blood enemies and accentuated with a finger jabbed into the soft spot between the offender's chest and neck. When he was sure his point had been made he turned to the silent witness to these events and muttered something that must have been a command to get moving because the young man jumped to and practically knocked the others over in his eagerness to follow orders and be on his way. As the soldiers started to leave down the alley Bilquart's stomach grumbled like it had never before. The senior of the sentries stopped short and whirled about, cocking his head, straining to hear what he thought he had. Bilquart stopped breathing. He was on the verge of escape and it all came crashing down around him. Without warning the soldier who had been beaten for insubordination vomited all over the sandals of the soldier who had re-educated him causing the third, sheepish one to burst into laughter. A swift knee to the gut of the now-sick soldier brought forth more bile, this time covering the assailant's thighs and legs. The laughter continued unchecked even when the disciplinarian glowered at the young sentry. He stormed off without a word down the alley with the other two in tow, patting each other on the back, having got the last laugh.

Bilquart exhaled noisily when they were gone. He had nearly passed out from holding his breath so long. No more reconnoitering tonight. He would leave the city within the hour and live in the hills for a few days, posing as a leper should he be discovered. Once he sent a dispatch to Lilibeo he would return to Rhegion and continue his scouting. As he slid his daggers away he noticed an uneven glint of moonlight along one of the edges. Upon close inspection his blade had a chip in it. How did that happen? Bilquart sighed inwardly, it would be a good three hours once he had made camp before he could sleep, now. It was disgustingly dangerous and undisciplined to go to bed with your weapons in disarray. One could never pay too much attention to detail.

[everyone]

Negotiations:

Consul Cicero scribbled something onto a piece of parchment, handed it to his clerk and rose from his desk. After a short while of deliberation, he wandered out of the Campus Martius, towards the Forum. While there, he was seen conversing with Dux Regulus, and what happened afterwards was unknown, because both had promptly left the scene, after a few minutes.

Slightly morose, he paced back to the Campus Martius and prepared his horse. Cicero was to ride north to a town near Massilia to meet with Carthaginian envoys; concerning the latter nation's recent maneuvers which threatened the City of Massilia, an ally of the Roman Republic.

Two weeks later, near Massilia:
Cicero had been travelling for a fortnight; the negotiations with the Carthaginians are to be held the next day in a nearby town; and Cicero was anxious, on whether he would represent his interests or Rome's or his allies'.

Negotiations were held in a tent, guarded by two large Iberians and nobody was allowed to enter. Representing the city of Kart Hadast was a Senator of theirs, Eshmunazzar. Eshmunazzar was skilled in many languages, so he was able to converse with Cicero fluently.
Cicero's task was to demand that Carthage removes their presence from east of the pyrenees, so as to protect Massilia and more importantly, Rome's trading interests with the Greek colonies of that area.
Eshmunazzar's purpose was mostly similar; he demands that Rome halt all diplomatic ties with Massilia other than trade; and has shown that Carthage is going to back that ultimatum with force, if necessary.

The debate was quick. Cicero had been prepared to offer peace and some compromise; but not the compromise of severing ties with Massilia, for Massilia was far too important an ally of Rome. Eshmunazzar delivered that ultimatum and had little compromise. It was little wonder why neither of the Greek cities in that area had approached Carthage for assistance.

Negotiations had failed. War has been declared; and Carthaginian troops, Iberian, Libyan, Phoenician, have been deployed in Iberia and Lilibeo in preparation for battle. What would be the senate's next decision?

(OOC: damn, my narrating and descriptive skills suddenly suck)

____________________________________________________________________________________________________ ______

Event 2: The 1st Punic War.

rules (implemented ingame by gamemaster (navarro951)):

1: War would be declared on Carthage ingame by any means. (While IC Carthage declares war on us)
2: two halfstacks of Carthaginian armies would be spawned in their Iberian cities (done via create_unit, since Carthage has two cities in Iberia, 10 units would be spawned in each); and a halfstack spawned in Lilibeo
3: Decisions on this event would be done in the coming congressional session.
4: Any movement of Legions decided during the congressional session would be implemented via the move_character console command (where possible) to the nearest friendly territory available (e.g. if an edict is for an attack on the carthaginian force in southern gaul, the Legion stated in the edict would be moved along with its commander to Massilia)
5. if there are any objections/suggestions to how this event would be conduted, please post them in the OOC thread, thank you.

PHASE 2:
1: as according to Edict 5.2 from the 260 session (Edict 5.2:Legio I be sent to southern Gaul to secure the province of Volcallra and repel the Carthaginian troops there), Legio I shall be transported to Massilia via move_character console command (somebody else needs to do this because Vista can't open RomeShell).
2: ships (not the cheap type, the real warships) shall be raised in Capua port after a (currently) secret part of the story has been posted
3: the army near Messena (if by then is still there) would have troops added to it via create_unit and move_character across the straits of Messena onto the Italian side.
4: If anyone thinks this is just a plot for me to help Manius Claudius gain power, it is not. there's still a third part which probably everybody would be involved.

[mini]

Time to make a decision


Qvintvs Aemilvs marched over the mudded streets of Dalminion, straight to the pavilion where Caivs Avrelivs had made his HQ after the conquering of the town.
The young man had been brooding about what to do for quite a while now.

Bearing the name of one the Famous Families in Rome - the Aemilia - Qvintvs Aemilvs by rights should have toiled in the wake of some of the notable advocates and orators across the forum during his youngers years. But not so for Qvintvs Aemilvs. Being the younger son of a lesser branch of the family - Regillvs - meant he would not gain such priviliges. The best he could hope for, was an adoption by one of the wealthy families in Rome starving for successors to carry on the line, paying his father enough money to put his older brothers up the cursus honorum.
At first he had daydreamed about such matters, longing to be adopted by the truely great families, permitting him to rise with ease on the cursus honorum.
As the years passed however, the dream faded and Qvintvs Aemilvs became worried about how his life should continue.
He was a fit young man, and as a boy he had taken to the exercises and drills on the campvs martivs as a fish to water. He saw only one way out: the army.

Secretely he enrolled himself in the legions behind his father back, and distinguished himself mightily in the battle for Dalminion, being proclamed man of the hour by none other than Caivs Avrelivs no less.

Sure his career would take flight now, the first few days Qvintvs Aemilvs walked on clouds.
As weeks passed however, reality hit him like a drunken gaul who just caught you raping his wife with your pants down.

For weeks he had toiled in the muddy town, thinking about which cours to steer next.
He had made up his mind now: he would return to Rome with honour, being able to see his tata in the eyes like a man. He would take the letters of recommendations he received crom Caivs Avrelivs and spend some time in Rome to catch up.

He was only 24.. He could afford still to spend a year or two in Rome, and 4 years yet again in the Legions, this time as a Tribunus. And at 30, he would get elected as a Quastor, in his proper year as it should be! He had no doubt about it.

Thus found Qvintvs Aemilvs himself, walking through the door of the pavilion and calling for scribes to write his letter to his general, Caivs Avrelivs.
Yet one of the scribes handed him a letter from the general himself. Deciphering the letter took some time -no one could read letters at a glance - but as soon as he had figured out what it said, he whooped of joy.

The general had asked for him, in person.
All his plans to return to Rome were thrown overboard!

[everyone]

Spring 258,
Liguria Again

Manius Claudius muttered under his breath, "damned place".

Consul Manius was here 8 years ago, when he was still a minor Tribunus under the Command of Consul Cnaeus Cornlius Scipio Asina. And that was also when Consul Asina died in battle against the Ligurians.

He trudged along a dirt path, along with the rest of Legio I Apulia under his command. The same 8 years ago, Consul Asina marched the same legion along the dirt path towards Segesta. However then, Segesta was ruled by a chieftain who was mentally insane; and had believed that the world would end in a great wine-flooding.

along the dirt path are small plots of land, each owned by farmers and their families; slowly being taken over by the Roman colonisers for the agriculture industry. Some farmers, rarely seeing outsiders, stopped their work, or awoken from their siesta, at started gazing in amazement at the greatest fighting force of the known world; the Roman legion. Faces of both the inexperienced and the grizzled fill the ranks, some of them had been serving in the legion for over 15 years; others had just been conscripted from Latium a few months ago.

Regardless of the soldier's backgrounds; they are all headed towards the north. To aid the city of Massilia, an ally of Rome. Heading this expedition is the Consul Manius Claudius.

In a loud, unwavering and piercing voice which had not been heard in Legio I for 8 years, Manius Claudius yelled "pick up the pace!" Both veterans and recruits obeyed the order; the recruits did so out of fear for they had never heard nor seen the stern side of Manius Claudius; the veterans done so from lifted morale, for that order reminds them of the day when Legio I was the most glorious Legion under the command of Consul Asina; and when Manius Claudius was their stern drillmaster.

[everyone]

Spring 259
Shipwreck
(part of event 2)

A storm brews. a small fleet of the finest Punic warships were sailing along the Campanian coast. the fleet in its former greatness had been reduced to a pathetic state after a defeat by pirates. They had been ordered south to Sicily from Corsica to defend the former in case the Senate and People of Rome decides to search for the sanctuary where Ceres resides on the island, in the process capturing it.

The tempest whips up fiercest of winds; the Punic sailors on board the fleet pray to the omnipotent Baal to protect them, but either the deity appears to be deaf, or that they have sinned greatly and therefore he sent the storm to punish them.

The fleet was tossed off course by the storm, and had crashed onto an area of the Campanian coast. Authorities had been informed and people restricted from the area from the fear that the ships may be looted. The crew has been arrested under the pretext of them being spies; for the cities of Rome and Carthage are at war.

Consul Manius Claudius, deciding this to be a major case to examine; rides from his office in the Campus Martius in Rome, south to the site of the wreck....