VII. MAARC - Nominations (Weheee! It's the 7th already!)

[Aldgarkalaughskel]

You know what to do. Keep those AAR nominations coming!

Eligibility: 2 updates in January

Give the following info:
Title (as link)
Faction:
Difficulty:
Description (keep it short):
Teaser: (optional; a short excerpt in a spoiler with max. 3 big pictures)

Read the rules here.

[Juvenal]

Severus the God

Faction: Picts, Franks, Imperium Constantini
Difficulty: H/H
Description: This is a sequel to my AAR Spite of Severus. It continues the IBFD7.03 Pictish campaign from after the completion of their conquest of Britannia and Hibernia. This story describes the Pictish intervention in Gaul and how it affected my (alternative) history of the early 5^th Century.

Teaser:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

The three armies came together on a hillside on the road to Alesia. Gerontius had anticipated the approach of the clumsy newly-raised legions of Eldobich and had posted his men well up the hillside, but still able to block a junction with Constans.

Eldobich found himself at the foot of the hill facing a the prospect of a very risky up-hill frontal attack against a superior force. Fearful of disaster, he hesitated.



While Eldobich was contemplating his conundrum, Constans appeared at the enemy rear and charged in with his whole force.

The ragged and starved forces of Constans fought with an élan born of desperation. They defeated the detachment Gerontius had posted to delay them, and rushed headlong into his main body atop the hill.

But after the initial charge was spent, the men of Constans were soon overwhelmed by the larger rebel force and Constans fell, mortally wounded.



The army of Eldobich finally arrived at the summit in some considerable disorder. But it was too late and they faced the full force of the grim and bloodied host of Gerontius. The counter-charge broke the Foederati of Eldobich on first contact, and his army dissolved into a mass of fleeing fugitives scattered across the hillside.



It wasn't until almost reaching the border with Raetia that Eldobich was able to reform enough of his stragglers to make a small field force.

In a final irony, the sacrifices at Lugdunum were rendered pointless when the Roman, Constantius, abandoned his siege of Arelete and embarked onto ships to deal with crises elsewhere in the Empire.

[tuore]

Foot of The Mediterranean Sea

Faction: Sicily
Mod: Stainless Steel 6.1
Difficulty: H/H
Description: Frustated prince wants to conquer the world and be the best. But he gets killed, and so does his successor. Sicily is in flames. A new Rome has born. A story of the rise of Sicily.

Teaser:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Roberto de Civitate was fortunately at Jerusalem, so he gained Piety a lot.

King Simone was the best general the whole Italy had ever seen. What is wrong with him? Nothing, but his attitude!

Simone: "WHAT?!?! I HAVE NO ATTITUDE PROBLEMS, YOU *~^¨¤%#"&"

Advisor: "Sir, take it easier. You could do something, like check this trade message."

Simone: "Looks really nice..."



And much later...

So, we had destroyed Genoa. But when we looked on our maps, we were quite small. We had to conquer a big empire. And pope shouldn't get angry of it.

Simone: "I know! Let's attack HRE! Our maps look so boring!"
Advisor: "They're also just excommunicated, so it would be nice to call a crusade there."

150 years later....

Finally, we took the last city of England, and destroyed them. But our defeat was getting more distinct. After taking the city, we heard the most excellent, perfect, magnificent and glorious thing of all:




This was what Simone had waited ever since he took Bari.

But the conquering of the world continues... it's not over... yet!

[Xavier Dragnesi]

Blood of my Blood

Modification: Roma Surrectum 1.5c
Faction: Syracuse
Difficulty: H/H
Description: King Hiero II of Syracuse is lord of Sicily and all Italy except of the lands under Epirot dominion. However, Hiero has not forgotten the treasonous deeds of the scheming Epirots, who backstabbed him midway through his Roman campaign. Now, he decides it is time to strike back. Appointing Diocletes of Croton as his chief historian who notes down his every action, Hiero proceeds to lead his Syracusan soldiers in a crusade to eradicate his enemy, a mission that will eventually lead to him to Greece, and face to face with his own kin.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

[Kátz]

Tribal TV : Story Of The Reporter

Modification : Roma Surrectum v1.5c
Faction : Germanic Tribes
Difficulty : H/H
Description : Tribal TV is on the verge of falling, How would our crews save them? And how would they overcome the obstacles hindering them? Again I will be back will my usual jokes.

Teaser :

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Chapter 6A : Between Life And Death

Author's Note : This is the scene where our hero is suspected to be dead already.

Urrghhhh........... Uhhh.. blood?? My vision slowly... fades...
[center]

[Lysimachos]

The Legacy of Megas Alexandros

Mod: EB 1.1
Faction: Arche Seleukeia (Seleucid Empire)
Difficulty: Medium/Medium
Description: Not only the report of a campaign, but a story about the fate of the descendants of Seleukos: A story about fear and bravery, about greed and generosity, about loyalty and betrayal.
The updates in January describe how the king Antiochos reclaims his capital and learns about the plans of his traitorous brother and what he decides to do about it...

Teaser:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Excerpt from Chapter 31:

[...]Finally, Antiochos II arrives at the palace. He doesn't wear his almost humble armor anymore, because now he has to look like a god to be received as one. A new armor has been made, just for this day, a glaring dream of gold. The motives that have been chosen to ornament it are intertwining patterns, as it doesn't fit a god to adorn himself with someone else's deeds.
Slowly he takes step after step. He is a tall man, seeming even larger due to the high helmet's crest, and constant exercise has given him a muscular athlete's body. It really doesn't take much to believe in his divinity, Kallinikos notices, struck with awe.
Mesmerized he walks forward to meet his father, who takes down the helmet and without a noticeable motion on his face looks down to his son, to receive a shy kiss on his well-shaved cheek.
The bearded son takes two steps back, clearing the way. His father's eyes rest on him and at this moment Kallinikos is more certain than ever that it takes a greater man than him to fill his father's shoes and sorrow fills his heart.
"My son." The king's deep masculine voice leaks to his dazed senses. "How long has it been? Five years? You are a grown man now." A faint smile shows on Antiochos' face for a moment before it vanishes again and the king proceeds on his path.
"Thank you, my king," mumbles the prince without really listening and follows few steps behind, through the gilded gates. [...]

Excerpt from Chapter 33:

Beneath a baldachin, that is protecting from the sun, sits a huge man. The nakedness of his upper body reveals bulging muscles under the tanned skin. He is wearing trousers and a massive golden torque lies around his neck.
Demophon is comfortably resting on his chair, the light blue eyes closed, while a nubian slave woman shaves the dark blonde hair off his skull.
Unlike the seleucid kings who lead their armies themselves to prove their worthiness, Ptolemaios Philadelphos prefers to trust professional generals, experienced soldiers.
Demophon is one of them. It is, of course, not the name he was born with, but it has proven useful in his business to bear a name in the language of those whose silver coins he was paid.
He is a Galates, a descendant of one of the celtic tribes that invaded Greece and Asia Mikra not long ago. He came to Aigyptos with his father, who has been allured by the prospect of the fair sums that the Ptolemaioi pay their mercenaries.
However, his father did not find his happiness in Egypt and soon died of a fever, so it was up to the only son to support his mother and sisters. So he, barely a man, took up a greek name and his father's sword. Demophon fought with the ptolemaic army and excelled in several battles against the Kyrenaioi and was rewarded with a Kleros near Paraitonion. From then he was known to his hellenic masters as Demophon Paraitonios, while his name amongst his galatian brethren simply is "The Boar".[...]

[Theodotos I]

"Sword of Albion"

Faction: Clan MacDougall
Difficulty: M/M
Description: War rages across the Highlands as a grief-stricken father exacts revenge upon the murderers of his son—and anyone else who gets in his way. Young clansman Ewan MacDougall is caught in the middle, well aware that no one is immune from the chieftain's wrath and that every step he takes could be his last. . .

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Chapter IX: Second Sight

The MacLeans were vanquished that dark day in spring, not a man of their number left alive. Not a man, not a babe. The slaughter was complete. Many of our own number had fallen, our losses sore upon the already struggling families of the highlands. A late planting—I knew all too well what this would mean. Many would not survive another winter, not one as brutal as the last. I feared for my people. But the MacLeans were gone. Duncan’s son had been avenged, his memory sanctified in a final welter of blood. Surely peace would now come to the highlands. I was young, but I cared no more for war. My mother was old, my love was yet young and I wished for nothing more than to be able to stay home and enjoy the hours with them both.
That was many years ago. I, Ewan MacDougall, have lived through much since. Through the strength of my sword-arm I have survived many a field of battle, but the desire still burns strong within my body. The desire for the fighting to cease. I once fancied that Duncan would stop with the MacLeans, that his bloodlust would be satisfied with their sacrifice. I was young—I was naïve. It didn’t stop. Nothing did.
That fall, I remember the day well when the news came. An alliance signed with the King of Norway was drawing our forces once more to war. I would never learn the truth, but it seemed that MacLeod pirates were harassing the Norwegians from their bastion on the Isle of Skye.

Our alliance committed us to go to war against the MacLeods, to fight with our brothers the Norsemen, or so Duncan’s proclamation read. Since when had the Norse been our brothers? I knew not.
Yet I prepared once more for the good-byes, for the tears, for the grim knowledge that each good-bye might be the last. I knew not what would lie beyond the grave, even the priest seemed not to know. Mass had been said one last time, I had knelt before the priest for confession every Sabbath-day. My sins were absolved, or so I had been told. Or were they?
Surely my complicity in the slaughters of Lagg and Tobermory were sins against an almighty God—crimes unforgiven. The foreign chants the priest pronounced at mass did nothing for the grief of my heart, nothing to assuage the guilt that laid so heavy upon me.
I spent the last few days before we left with Marion, out upon the moors, away from Finbar and the prying eyes of the old gossips of the village. Our love flourished in those highlands, happiness marred only by the thoughts of war and my soon departure.
Two days before we left, I met with her again. We had walked but for a few minutes together when I realized that something was troubling her. I turned, my voice soft. "Darling, what is it?"
She looked up at me, brushing her long black hair back from her tear-stained eyes. "Don’t go, Ewan. Not this time," she whispered, urgency in her tones.
I stared at her, sensing something, something beyond her usual concern for my safety. Something more. "Why?"
She turned away from me for a moment, glancing far away across the moors. "I don’t know, Ewan. I have seen. . ." her voice trailed off, as though she was unwilling to continue.
I laid my hand on her shoulder. "What? What have you seen?"
"Last night. A dream." Her words tumbled out in a breathless stream. "I saw our clansmen fighting—in the heavens, as though they fought upon the clouds. Shadowy figures, fighting and dying."
I stood looking at her, at a loss for words. "Our clansmen?" I asked finally.
She nodded. "Please, please, Ewan, just don’t go."
"You’ve known of this—it was on your mind, the campaign. Of course you would dream of it."
Marion shook her head and I stopped, looking deep into her eyes. "There’s something you don’t want to tell me, isn’t there? There was something more to the dream."
A brief nod and she looked away, biting her lip. "Oh, Ewan, I don’t know what to think. Is it true, is this second sight, or is it just my foolish fears. You’ve proved yourself capable in battle, I know that. There is not a braver man in the village."
My heart swelled with pride at her words, but I pushed it away with an effort. She was avoiding the subject. I touched her arm, turning her around to face me. "The dream," I continued firmly, my gaze unwavering. "Tell me the rest of the dream."
"We will both lose a friend," she replied haltingly, unwilling to look me in the eye.
"Finbar?" I demanded.
She nodded. "I saw his face. And yours. He will die, but you will be destroyed."
My arm fell nerveless to my side, unable to believe what I had just heard. She turned away and ran, her tears flowing freely down her face. Stunned by her words, I called after her, shouting for her to stop, to wait, but to no avail.
She disappeared like a wraith into the gathering dusk, swallowed up in the cryptic words of her prophecy, the grass bedewed with her tears.
I turned after a moment, returning to the village. I would not see her again before the fleet sailed. I would not see her for a long time to come. . .

[molls]

The Antigonid Kingdom

Mod: XGMD

Author: [user]dirty_M[/user]

Faction: Macedonia

Discription: The Rise of Macedonia - accompanied by great pictures!

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

The year 279 B.C. was dark for Macedonia. The death of her beloved son Alexander gave birth to an era of war and tragedy fueld by the endless greed of men who rode with the great king. Some of these men fell swiftly, others became great kings of mighty nations. But none were more powerful or feared than Antigonos Monophthalmus and his son Demetrius Poliocretes, who came so close to restoring the empire. But fortune was cruel to these men. Antigonos died in battle at Ipsus, and Demetrius's army abandoned him in Anatolia, leaving him to die under the captivity of Seleucus.








And now Macedonia is a broken kingdom inheirited by Anitigonos Gonatas. The future seemed dim for the new king. Greeks, Epirots, and Gauls attempted to claim Macedon as their own. But Antigonos proved to be a gifted leader who has just recently defeated the Gauls and kept his Greek neighbors at bay.









Peace was balanced by alliance between Macedon, Epirus, the Achean League, and the various Greek Cities spread across the known world. But this peace is a mere device to give these nations a chance to consolidate their power and prepare for yet another series of bloody wars and fueds. A curse which has plagued the sons of Greece since they've came to be.



Antigonos pales in the memory of his great fathers. The ranks of his army are depleted. The once vast riches of his country have been wasted and squandered. And his people demoralized and war weary. The Furies curse every breath he takes, but he is all too aware that Fate has paved a road for every step. The destination remains unknown, but he drives harder every day hoping it will lead him to a place worthy of his fathers.

[molls]

The wandering bard of the steppes

Mod: EB 1.1

Author: [user]johnhughthom[/user]

Faction: Pahlava

Description: The tales of a wandering bard, telling ancient stories and poems of heroic deeds - a different sort of AAR, beautifully written.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

We follow a group of men as they dismount their horses and walk together toward the largest of what looks like a city of tents. As we step through the opening we see a larger group of men sat around a raised table, drinking wine, smoking weed and singing song. Our friends sit on the floor and beckon toward the only female in the room who hands them each a jug of wine. They all look to the back of the tent where a man has risen to his feet, as he climbs onto the raised table the babble of chatter and raucous singing stops immediately. This is why they are all here, the wandering bard of the steppes is here to tell them tales of their past glories and tragedies.


Back when the heirs of Seleukos ruled in Persia, Syria and Asia Minor
(Though the Empire of Cyrus, Darius and Xerxes was indeed much finer)
Arose a tribe from the east,
Masters of the four legged beast.
Their fate was to conquer, to rule and to kill,
Nobody on a horse had the same kind of skill.
Antiochus in Seleukiea knew not of these men,
Could they cause him great pain,
Even end his foul reign?
The spears would be sent to crush the great tribe,
Would they be cut down from afar with nowhere to hide?
Will king be bereft,
With no soldiers left,
Or will the horsemen feel pain,
And return to the plain?

The bard paused and looked around the room.

To hear the story of these men,
Return here again.
The story is long,
An heroic old song,
Told me by my father,
Many times passed on.

Your ancestors fought just as you do,
On horseback with bow and lance too.
The tribesmen were quick, nimble and tough,
More often than not they were more than enough.


The Dahae were fierce, proud and strong,
We praise them still in campfire song.
The pick of the men rode in small roving bands,
The bow a deadly weapon in such well skilled hands.


The nobles, few in number but heavily armed,
Still too quick for the spears and rarely were harmed.
Loyal to the king their anger was fearsome,
If he was in danger swiftly would they come.


The best of the best,
Somehow better than the rest.
The Kings Royal guard,
Who always fought hard.
Feared by Saka, Indian and Greek,
Every enemy was made to look weak.


These were the men who rode out to battle,
Constantly eager to test their mettle.
An enemy at hand,
Who ruled a vast land,
How could they bring woe,
To such a great foe?
Enemies all around, north, east, south and west,
Such dangers to any leader a test.

[molls]

The Iberian Empire

Mod: M2TW Native

Author: [user] Igna [/user]

Faction: Spain

Difficulty:Hard/Very Hard

Description: Spain struggles when rising from a small kingdom to a dominating medieval empire. A solid and classic AAR!

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

The Iberian Empire



Faction: Spain
Difficulty :Hard/Very Hard
Unit Scale: Huge

(This is my first AAR, and only my third M2TW campaign; though I've played RTW for years, I've only had this game for literally a week! Due to my total inexperience with the faction, game, along with the difficulty setting and huge scale which makes sieges very hard, I expect this campaign to be really challenging. I plan to go into great detail in my battles and such with tons of pictures; I hope you enjoy!)

------------------------

The history of the Iberian peninsula is a sorry one; it is marked by centuries of division and subjugation from outside forces. The Carthaginians and Romans carved into it and conquered it, and the fall of them only precipitated more invaders, first from the north, then from as far east as the Byzantines. Now the Moors from the South are participating in the long tradition of invading Spain, and even in the midst of this great outside threat Spain is divided between lords.

All of these feudal lords have the same dream of uniting Spain, and driving out the Moors, finally establishing a glorious kingdom that encompasses the entire peninsula...and perhaps more.

No man seems more likely to fulfill this dream than the king of Castile, who has already united several kingdoms under him now. Controlling most of northern Spain, he is in a favourable position for expansion, but he still has many barriers between him and total domination of Spain.

He is King Alfonso, a man in the middle of his life. Though with limited experience he already shows himself to be a promising general; ambitious and eager, he is determined to expand his territory even farther.



Prince Rodrigo, his younger son, shows similar promise. He is a slender and sickly looking man, but surprisingly intelligent and capable, if not necessarily the image of chivalry.



The elder son of King Alfonso is a young man named Vaasco, a loyal soldier and general under Alfonso. Though not an intellectual, he has already proven himself worthy to lead the army.




King Alfonso, though his army and his funds were meager after his most recent annexations, had no plans of halting his operations for recovery; he planned an immediate strike on the feudal lords of eastern Spain. They were local and served no greater kingdom but themselves, and thus he saw them as the most vulnerable, incapable of recieving outside help, and free to be attacked without offending the pope.

Quickly, he gathered his bodyguards and a few hundred men from the castle at Toledo to join with Vaasco's army. Without delay, they set off for the castle at Valencia.

[molls]

The Rise of the Irish kingdom

Mod: SS 6.1

Author: [user]Pink Beard[/user]

Faction: Ireland

Difficulty: vh/m

Description: The Title says it all. Filled with lulz and laughter - a classic AAR about the green faction romping through England!

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Chapter 1: Intro





It's the year of our lord 1080.
It was a dull and dark day in Ireland. Both the common people as the nobles of 'Galway' sat in their houses around their furnaces.
They preferred to stay in their cosy houses rather than working on this cold and rainy weather. The only people outside in the rain were the guards tasked to keep an eye out for intruders and thieves.
The soldiers however didn't noticed that a rather shady character entered the "palace" (or actually a glorified town hall) of prince Domnall.


Prince Domnall: "ssssst! quickly, get inside! Did anybody followed you?"

Ronan the Spy: "not that i'm aware of... most guards we're sleeping or to busy trying to stay dry."

Prince Domnall: "Blast! anybody who wants can enter my palace! that means i'm not save for assasins! i'll deal with the guards later... teach them to stay awake!"

Ronan: "yes yes, back to the subject, why have you called me here?"

Prince Domnall: "well, my father, King Brian the Mauler, had a vision. he dreams of uniting the Irish island! and after that he wants to conquer Britain, perhaps the world too! After many months of debating and convincing he finally managed to join the Irish clans into one!"

Ronan: "and what do you want me to do, my prince?"

Prince Domnall: "the King has asked me if I could get information about the rebellious and traitorous city Dublin to the east. Therefore i have summoned you, my faithfull and loyal friend, to have a look there! See what u can find out about that scum! Maybe... maybe we can conquer their pity city and make it part of our kingdom! you will leave tomorrow morning before dawn if you agree!"

Ronan: "aye my lord! your wish is my will!"

That said Ronan left the palace again, sneaking behind the guards, whilst making use of the shadows to stay unnoticed.

The next day Ronan left 'Galway' on his way to the rebellious city of Dublin.

[molls]

Mod: SS 6.1

Author: [user]tree151 [/user]

Faction: Sicily

Difficulty: M/M

Description: Sicily starting out from scratch - having to face the grim reality of Stainless Steel 1080 AD. The Island Kingdom - soon to be a mainland kingdom?

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

[hr]
Okay, This is my first AAR, and I'm focusing it on the Stainless Steel version of Sicily. As I stated before, this is my first AAR, and I'm not proffesional at it. should also state I'm not the best battle strategist...

I will run the campaign in a Medium\Medium difficulty, becuse I'm sure I will be burned alive if I do not start it on something easy. I will automaticaly resolve battles if the opposing army is a rebel army with no more then 300 men or a regular enemy army with no more then 150 men.

The length of a turn is 1.5 a year, so in each endturn the year changes by one year and a season.
[hr]

Prologue

The year is 1080AD. Sicily, an empire which settled on a land filled with history from the anchient times, ironicly, does not posses enough histroy whithin it's rule, or it's reach. Sicily, by the lords of the wartorn Europe, do not even care about it's exictance. A terrible standard has fallen on the young empire, but with a small amount of detication, loyalty and courage, nothing will stay the same. An empire will rise. For it's Sicily...and beyond!

Leading the growing empire, Is the noble king Ruggero, At the meantime resting at the sancuary of the Sicilian castle, Palermo, in the western disctrit of the Sicilian Island. His son, from his marrige with queen Judith, is called Simone, who is also the current governor of the Sicilian settlement of Naples, in the Italian Peninsula, north-east by a few kilometers from the Island of Sicily. The Sicilian Empire also nominated one of the noted generals of Sicily, Alberto D'ottaviano, as the governor of the town of Syracuse, in the far south-east of the Sicilian Island. The Sicilian Empire gathered no enemies, non would care about Sicily setteling in it's named Island. Non even cared if Sicily conquered Naples, along with the southern tip of the Italian Peninsula. The two main problems of Sicily were the rebels, who were roaming the lands and Islands around Sicily, and the gathering of many religions around Sicily.

Chapter One - The Trial of the Empire

People all over the Empire of Sicily were fighting each other in a light, almost unnoticed religion war allready. There were no all-out religious battles around the Empire, but from time to time there were individual murders and even a few quarrels between the worshippers of Christ, Muhammad and Moses in the heavily guarded cities, they were oftenly inturrupted sucsessfully by the city guards, but even the guards are not endless.

An Idea was proposed to King Ruggero - to put one person of each of the opposing religions in the Sicilian Council. The king was amused by the Idea, and quickly ordered the finest of his messengers to dispatch to every village, town and castle in control of the Empire, and seek one man of each religion who are politicaly able to benefit the Empire, along with the hope to reduce the anger of the religions around Sicily.

The Canidates were quickly found by the proffesional scouts, A christian canidate for the Council was Giacomo De Bisceglie, A noble in the rich distcrit of the town of Syracuse, he was known for his amazing diplomatic talent, leaving his guests speechless after each of his parties that he constantly created. The muslim canidate was Mahmud Vallane, or known by his new Sicilian name, Pietro Vallane, an Egyptian Arab whom migrated towards Sicily ten years ago, he worked with a famous spying group, which worked with the Syracuse government in spying on important targets. A canidate for the Jewish council member was Enrico Mosca, the lead merchant in the famous trading group of Naples, and not in vain, as his talent in trading is extraordinarily enormous.
All of them were called to Naples for the rest of the year, until new tasks come to them by the supporior council.

Palermo and Syracuse were still heavily affected by the religious unrest, and so the governors Issued a building queue, A small chapel in Palermo and a small church in Syracuse.

[End Turn - Year 1081, Winter]

During the year, many new things happened. The Papal States, pleased from the creative way of dealing with the religious unrest in the Sicilian territories, proposed a Trade Agreement between Sicily, talking with Prince Simone as they went into Naples. The prince agreed at the Papal States' generous offer, waving the Diplomat goodbye as he mounts on his horse and rides back to central Italy. A day after, trading caravans have been dispatched all over central and southern Italy, trading day and night with the Papal market.



The other news came from the council of nobles, they requested the capture of the settlement of Bari, they gave Sicily approximatly 22 years [15 turns] to capture it. The Sicilian government has agreed to travel to Bari, and lay siege on it until it is under the flag of Sicily, but the Sicilian military is unprepared and lacks the numbers of soldiers to exit Bari with the minimal number of casaulties. action must be taken.



The small chapel ordered in Palermo and the small church ordered in Syracuse are halfway into completion, and the Sicilian coffers hold approximatly 8,394 Florins.

The question arises from the darkest pits of Sicily, what will the Sicilian government do with the money?...

[Sunbird Alkibijad]

Hannibal, AVENGER OF DIDO

MOD: RTW-RS1.5c
Faction: Carthage
Difficulty:H/VH
Description (keep it short): Hannibal Barca, receives a letter from his father, telling him about his destiny, and a testament and duty his grandfather has intended for him to carry out - ANNIHILATION OF ROME
Teaser: All roads lead to Rome, but under Hannibal's feet!

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: