Join the campfire - Tale of The Week 39

**Hesus de bodemloze** · May 04, 2009, 10:54 AM

"It is part of human nature to hate the man you have hurt."

- Tacitus c.56 - c.177 AD -

Rules :

1. Post a short text about this picture, with min. 200 max. 500 words, in a spoiler.

2. If you are a contestant you are honour bound to not read other contestants' writings until you have submitted yours.

3. The winner gets 1 point on the Leaderboard, if there are at least 4 contestants.

4. Deadline: last day of each week (Sunday).

**Nazgûl Killer** · May 04, 2009, 11:08 AM

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

The Duel
"Forward!"
Screamed the general, seeing that the left flank has already engaged in combat, and same about the right, he decided that striking fast at the middle will break the other two flanks.
The soldiers marched quickly with their swords, wary of the enemies' spears, but nonetheless, obedient and willing to fight and die.
"Shields, up!"
He yelled again, and we raised our shields, I raised mine just in time, a spear hit it and shattered, and I threw a knife I had on my belt, a responding scream came to the throw.
"Charge!"
He yelled, we lowered our shields again and charged at the enemy, swords up and their spears down, spears shattering at the clash of shields and spear jabbing into men all around me, and I looked around... I could not understand what had happened, I could not understand how I got here, I could not understand what I was supposed to do...
I looked at the foe, lunging a spear at me, and I felt a stinging pain in my chest, I fell to the floor, blood splattering all around me, soldiers dying... People fading, the endless darkness of battle and the weariness of war engulfed me, I felt myself starting to fade...
Someone shouted my name...
Someone shouted my name...
I felt my head rocking back and forth, and there he was, the general, looking down at me, and I finally realized, I'm the Lieutenant... How could I allow myself to become so shocked? I returned to the battle in spirit now... But not in body, I could not rise...
"Sir, I... I ca--"
"I know, just sit tight, Soldiers! DEFENSIVE FORMATION!"
He screamed and about five soldiers formed a half a circle around us, shields up and swords at the ready, battle raged all around us, but then it came.
"Skirmishers!"
A scream was heard from afar, and soon enough, stones and javelins fell all around us, the skirmishers opened fire, and three of the defensive soldiers fell, dead.
"Sir!"
One of them yelled, seeing a group of soldiers approaching, seven of them, the leader was obviously the enemy general, and my general rose, looking at him, the other six engaged in combat all around him...
The duel began...
The enemy general slashed at mine, but missed, shields clashed, swords met.
My general fell down to the floor, the other general knocking him down, but he soon got up and lunged at him, a direct hit to the shoulder, but the enemy general smiled, I could not understand, why? Why was he smiling?
As blood splattered all over my helmet and armor, I realized, that the duel which was happening right in front of me, has ended. My friend fell to the ground, his throat slashed, and the enemy general looked at his round shield, which had blades on it... And smiled. I looked at the lifeless corpse of my general and darkness engulfed me again... Why was I here, I asked myself...
The answer never came.

**~~ELITEOFKINGWARMAN8~~** · May 04, 2009, 12:18 PM

Reserved!

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

**Conquistatore** · May 04, 2009, 05:41 PM

Why is there a need to reserve spots? Are there limited openings?

EDIT: I see Nazgul, in that case.
RESERVED!

**Nazgûl Killer** · May 05, 2009, 12:27 AM

No, but if you reserve posts, people might know you're posting and stop by especially to see you, and you will remember which submission you are especally, and some people would rather be submission 1 than 6. I'm one of them ;P

**SonOfAlexander** · May 05, 2009, 01:52 AM

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

TOTW - One more time…

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

His bare feet ached. Alexanderos ran with great long strides, dodging the carts in the busy streets as he ran down the hill. The hills of the Cilician Gates stood like a sentinel, watching over the lands of Pontus. Alexanderos reached the steep terrace where his family lived. The squalor of the district could be clearly seen in the chipped lime plaster and human waste in the streets as he crashed through the front door of his home.

The sound of ringing pieces of metal being gathered could be heard as Alexanderos listened to his mother talking to Antonius in the next room.
“I’ve got to… the honour of Rome… prove myself.”
“But Antonius… trivial and unimportant…” There was a moment of silence and then a woman’s scream as Antonius slapped her, knocking her to the floor. Antonius ran to the door and stood there, armour clad as he gestured to his fellow sibling.

“Come, Alexanderos. We’ll see the sun set on that battle yet if we leave now.” Alexanderos shook his head and spoke as the rain started to fall outside, casting a grey shadow on the street outside. “Yes, but will it be from under a Roman standard or a Macedonian one…?” Alexanderos’ family was part Greek, part Roman, and the 2 brothers could not have idolised the Greeks/Romans more than they did.

Antonius grabbed Alexanderos and flung him to the floor. His back jarred on the stone streets as he fell to the floor. He scuttled backwards through the urine-soaked ground and water as the rain fell harder still. Antonius stood in the dry doorway and pointed his sword at Alexanderos’ gullet. “You are no brother of mine…” He walked over him and within seconds had disappeared into the rain.

It was one week later and Alexanderos’ feet now compacted the hard, dusty earth above the edges of the River Issus where all those years ago Megos Alexanderos had defeated Darius in his epic duel of wits. Would the Macedonians be so successful today? Alexanderos shifted his shoulder and shield to hold his huge Sarissa more comfortably.

Antonius manned a Scorpius to the rear of the lines. As full of will, patriotism and bravado as Antonius was, he was still apprehensive.

But as the two lines prepared to meet, he saw a familiar face standing in the front line. “FIRE!” he shouted as the single huge bolt flew towards the line. The young man was lifted into the air and his pike fell to the ground.

Alexanderos pulled his shield into his chest and lowered his spear on orders as the Romans advanced. He was ready to thrust when he heard a near silent whistling. He looked up but saw nothing before his vision went black and he felt himself thrown skywards. He slowly rose to his knees and sat there, watching the lines advance in front of him as sound faded from the world. He hadn’t been able to prove himself worthy of his Macedonian lineage…

**Ratbag** · May 08, 2009, 09:42 AM

Hmm.. I don't think I'll be writing a story this week seeing as there arn't any yet.

**molls** · May 08, 2009, 11:13 AM

Weekend is story writing time, remember that.
Most stories are written on saturday/sunday.

**Ratbag** · May 08, 2009, 11:39 AM

Okey, I might write a story then.
But about the picture, it's Rome and... ?
I never played Rome so don't know.

**Elendil of Númenor** · May 08, 2009, 03:30 PM

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Bravery or Happiness

“Hey, get up, the Macedonians are here!” I opened my eyes. My brother's face was inches from my own. “Come on, out of the tent. You don't want the cohort waiting, do you?”
I got up, pulled my lorica over my head then fastened my belt. Not too tight, all the equipment was unbearable outside. I picked up the water flagon and pressed it to my dry lips. Nothing came from it. I sighed and picked up my pila and scutum and walked out of the tent.

The sun hit me like fire, and the sand blew into my eyes. Squinting, I looked around.
“Hurry up, already! They're almost here!” It was my centurion. I ran up to my place in the second line and waited. Time passed slowly. Eventually the tips of pikes appeared over the hill in front. Soon, the full might of the phalanx was visible, and that wall of death edged forward. My brother, who stood right in front of me, looked back over his shoulder and winked. I returned an unconvincing smile and waited for what was to come.

The first hit came to our left flank. Men dropped their weapons and went screaming from the battle. Almost everyone escaped from those cohorts. They ran all the way to the Sea, and sailed back to Rome, to live and die one day, peacefully. Cowards, but happy men.

But this was not to be the fate of my cohort. The sun burned ever stronger and the enemy marched closer to our line. One of the phalangists broke lines and ran forward. I blinked. In a flash of scarlet my brother fell to his knees – the pike struck him between the ribs.
I felt numb, lifeless. As if it was I who had fallen, as if it was my blood that flowed through the sand.
Not knowing where I was, what I was doing, I sprang forward, slashing, cutting, stabbing. Many a spear pierced me but I could not feel. I would not feel. The sun flashed on my sword, the blood streaming down my wrist and arm. I closed my eyes. I felt the sand under my lips – but something strange trickled into my mouth too. “Water!” I thought. But it was not water. . .

I opened my eyes. Everyone was fast asleep around me, though the sunlight was already peering in through the opening of the tent. The centurion peeked in and nodded towards me. I bowed my head slightly. Then I turned to my brother and woke him up. I walked out and strode to my centurion. “Marcus!” He looked at me questioningly. “Could it be possible to send my brother, Sextius Gabinius, to the left flank? I'm sure he'd be better there. Please, Centurion!” He gazed at me, then shrugged.
“So be it. To the ninth cohort with him, then.” I took my place in the first line, just in front of the position my brother should have stood. I smiled. . .

**SonOfAlexander** · May 09, 2009, 11:10 AM

Can't we go back to 1000 words? My story is so much worse now I had to shave it down...

**Ratbag** · May 09, 2009, 04:34 PM

Nah, there's been a vote and we live in a Democratic society after all.

**Viking Prince** · May 10, 2009, 04:34 AM

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

**Juvenal** · May 10, 2009, 10:02 AM

I have returned...

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Last Breath

Why did I do it?

Well, I suppose the old fool was asking for it, showing valuables like that bracelet
in a place like this. What did he expect?

We met on the caravan to Smyrna. He had a consignment of furs and I offered to buy
them. We let the caravan go ahead for the sake of privacy in our negotiations. He was
a good talker. His wizened body in its dusty black robes belied a silver tongue. But I wasn't
competing in that department, just waiting for a chance to relieve him of the wicked
little dagger slung from his belt.

Eventually we reached what he thought was a deal. I saw the greedy glint of triumph
in his eye as we embraced to seal the bargain. Even though I could hardly bear to touch his
lice-infested form, I gritted my teeth, gave my most winning smile and reached for him...
before grabbing the dagger and holding it across his throat as I pushed him to the ground,
relieving him of his jewellery and coin bag.

Oh, how he struggled! Wriggling like a snake, scratching and biting. But I was prepared.
Kneeling on his chest, I hammered in the stakes and pulled the ropes tight.

“Don't worry old man, I'm sure you'll eventually pull one out if you put your back into it, enjoy the
view!”

Turning to leave (for nearby Magnesia, not the caravan) I barely had time to register the huge man
in a mangy fur jacket before his cudgel swung around and the lights went out.

I awoke still dizzy, head throbbing. Blinking away their fresh spit, I saw them walking back
toward the caravan.

For a moment I thought I was going to survive. But I couldn't move a muscle, except for
my head. Then it occurred to me to look down to see how I was bound (I pride myself on
being able to escape from any knot, essential in my trade). The sand was up to my chin!
I tensed, stretched, writhed, twisted, but nothing I did gave me any movement at all and
I collapsed into exhaustion.

How was I to know he had a son? That dwarf with a face like a pickled prune and breath
straight from the charnal house. How could any woman even look at him for more than a few
seconds without losing the will to live, let alone desire to bear his children?

It has been two days, Thirst and pain are gone, I float. The morning light is soft, the desert
shimmers, the ground trembles... Trembles? That's odd.

The horizon ahead is dark with ant-like figures. They come closer, Phalangites marching in
lock-step! What a stupid place to hold a battle!

They are close now. The shadows of lowered pikes fall over me.

Why can't you see me? My throat is dried up, I open my mouth anyway, and try to scream:
“Help me! Help me you bastards, I want to live!”

**Julius Barca the Great** · May 10, 2009, 05:33 PM

"The Lone Arrow"

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

The fate of two mighty empires hung in the balance. On one side, the Mighty Seleucids, heir to one of the greatest leader’s of all time. On the other, the Disciplined Romans, rulers of Italy, Greece, Spain, and Africa. Both commanders knew victory meant glory and honor for themselves, while a defeat would spell death and destruction for him and his men.
The Romans had, in recent years, sent a single Legion north, with orders to raze Pella.
The Legion had marched forward, under a young general, with a full compliment of cavalry, Legionaries, archers, and artillery. The Macedonians quivered and wailed, ever fearing the day when Rome’s might would reach their capital. Thousands of peasants and farmers took up arms and were slaughtered. Skilled mercenaries, including archers of the isle of Crete, swordsmen from the eastern reaches of Galatia, and Thracian auxiliaries wielding the deadly falx were recruited. These men succeeded only in diminishing the Legion.
Finally, the Legion had reached a relatively undefended Pella and sacked it, leaving next to no survivors. The Senate had been pleased. Far too pleased, in fact.
They sent their prized legion the Legio XVI Graecia, east, to exact revenge on the Seleucids, an empire whose wealth exceeded that of even Rome herself, so much so they could afford to support their western brethren in war. After months of campaigning, the Sixteenth reached Antioch. Here, the Sons of Seleucus fought to defend their capital. Here, the bloodiest battle of the war occurred.
The Romans, by this time, had among their ranks enough men to form 7 cohorts, not a legion. The Greeks had 7,000 men, the vast majority of which were phalangites.
On one side of the battlefield, an army modeled after Alexander suffered from the heat, burning in their armour, sweating every drop of water from their bodies. On the other, the sons of Aeneas felt none of the effects of the sun. They felt cold. Limb-numbing, heart-engulfing, cold. The shivers of fear passed along the ranks, prompting the commander to ride his mount up and down the rows of men, calling encouragements, not even so much as glancing at the enemy.
The general then gave a rousing speech, informing his men of the Greeks love of sharp objects entering their bodies. This earned several laughs and a cheer.
The phalangites kept silent as they approached the Romans, holding their ground.
Now we find out what happens when an unstoppable force collides with an immovable object.
As the general grimly smiled at his jest, one single arrow streaked past, flying directly towards the Greeks. The General turned, shouting at the men to hold, only to see an archer grinning ear-to-ear. A loud groan rose from the Hellenes, and the Romans cheered as the leader of the Seleucids fell, an arrow through his neck.
The Romans were exalted, the Macedonians; crushed. Victory fell to the Romans, the fate of two empires decided by a lone arrow

**Astaroth** · May 11, 2009, 07:28 AM

My submission:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

A Soldier

The blood-red sun is burning mercilessly, turning the clouds of dust and the empty plains into shades of gold. There's no sign of life in this godforsaken land and my heart fills with cold and hate. As the hot armour is burning my back, I ask myself what I am doing in this forlorn land, so far away from home, hundreds of miles away from civilization.

But now I'm here, lost in the empty plains of Asia, fighting for the glory of the eternal city. Fighting for generals and emperors I have never talked to, feeding Rome's hunger for new lands with my own blood. Slowly but surely, the sarissas come closer as the Macedon phalangites move forwards. Slowly but surely, death approaches.

To my left and right there are my comrades, preparing to unleash their fury and hate on the enemies. "Roma aeterna!" is sounding through the ranks as our centuria moves forward, forward towards the seemingly impregnable wall of sarissas. I want to shout, to scream: "You fools! Why do you want to die so desperately?" but my dry throat is sealed.

We keep marching towards the enemy, just like lambs to the slaughter. The forest of spears comes closer and there's no escape. Only death lies in front of us, we are marching to fulfill our destiny. Suddenly, our centurion commands the charge. And like sheep, just like obedient sheep, we charge. "Roma aeterna" is sounding through the ranks yet another time, a last time before the two armies will clash.

Everything seems to slow down, almost as if it were in slow-motion. No sound can be heard, the shouting has ended and there's nothing but the seemingly endless hordes of enemies in front of us. As I raise my gladius above my head, ready to strike, I feel an incredible, burning pain in my chest. Cold steel is cutting through warm flesh, mercilessly digging its way through my body. I want to scream, shout, cry for mercy - but my voice has left me and I can feel how my legs are collapsing beneath me.

As darkness is approaching with rapid strides, I desperately try to recall my little son's image. But there's nothing, nothing but emptiness. Tormented by the unbearable pain, breathing is becoming harder every second and I cannot keep my eyes open any longer. Life is slipping from my hands, the world is ending.

Suddenly I feel free, as if someone had taken an incredible burden from my shoulders. There's no more pain, no more suffering. In front of me there is a light. It's coming closer. Nothing seems to be relevant anymore, pain and death seem to be an eternity away. Suddenly everything is turning golden. A new life has begun.