[IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 08/05/2021)

[Ybbon]

You turn you head away for a fraction and what do you get, hordes swarming all over the place! Things are a mess for sure, this will take some cleaning up I think.

[Justinian Australis]

I know...this is looking very grim right about now. It's not what I need...but was half expecting anyway. The Quadi are never quiet in this game. The Gaels always throw up a surprise or two.

Chapter XXI: Sudden Complications...

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Felix had finally moved on from Verona, seeking his quarry; Constantius II. With the advice from Decentius taken in and the thoughts of a several sacks full of money, Felix rode hard eastwards. Along the way he came across a roving band of Quadi freebooters. Though small in numbers, they had inflicted a great deal of damage upon Aquelia, even bringing with them some siege engines to surround the city which was badly undermanned. Such was Constantius' problems in finding enough men to deal with the multitude of crisis’s plaguing the Roman empire. After having camped for the night, he woke early and whilst packing up to move, he heard a commotion of sorts. Upon investigation, he observed said Quadi band heading away from the city and moving north. In the distance their wagons and siege engines were just set on fire and left to burn. Most odd, thought Felix, wondering what had forced them to abandon their siege.


Continuing eastwards, Felix passed through hilly wooded terrain that kept him hidden away from any prying eyes. It was incredibly quiet as he made his way through the woodlands, not a soul to be seen or heard from. The only company he had were noisy birds and the odd stray dog, which followed curiously at a distance only to lose interest once coming to the conclusion that Felix offered nothing tasty. Felix happened across an alternative route towards Poetovio, one that was known to the people of the town as an escape route but scarcely discernible through the scrub. Daylight grew dimmer as the trees thickened the deeper he ventured.


Felix, ever so gradually, could make out the smell of smoke. At first it was faint, barely detectable but definitely something, somewhere was burning. Peasant cooking meals perhaps? Wood fires burning to keep them warm in the biting chill condition? Felix's mind wandered in the solitude, so much so that he was caught by surprise when his horse suddenly reared on its hind legs and threw Felix to the ground. The horse was distressed by something and it backed off. He dusted himself off, tried calming his horse and much to his surprise he saw a body. Upon closer inspection, he observed the look on the deceased face. It was one of wide eyed terror. Searching further, he noticed the blood stained cloak after rolling him over, where several puncture wounds were obvious from the torn clothing and ragged flesh wounds. It was one of the Vigiles Urbani that usually manned such places like Poetovio. Felix' mind raced. What on earth was going on? No sooner having discovered this body, upon turning around he noticed another slumped behind a tree and another sprawled with out it's head. The further he walked, the more bodies he found, all suffering various wounds. A quick tally brought the number of dead to twenty, mostly of the Virgiles Urbani, with a few peasants as well. What was obvious, aside from the decapitations, was that all suffered wounds to the back.


They were fleeing someone... Felix deduced. By now the smell of the smoke was far more pronounced. Yet it was not the smell of burning wood. It was something far more gruesome. He tentatively led his horse past the maze of bodies and soon came towards a clearing. Before him he could see Poetovio, which looked utterly silent. Yet he saw the source of the smoke. Several fires sprung up around the outskirts of the wall-less town. He could not make out what was been burned from his vantage point but the stench gave it away.


Bodies. Hundreds of them, all unceremoniously piled up and set alight. He thought initially, What in Gods name has Constantius done?, fearing the worst. However, having moved his horse away and out of sight, Felix donned his hood and kept low, adopting a crouching pose and moved quickly between cover. As he got closer, his heart leapt into his mouth. It was not Constantius or his men burning bodies. These were Romans been burnt and standing idly near the macabre scene, were Sarmatians. The lazyges or the Jaxamartae, whatever they were called, had captured Poetovio and submitted it to the usual horrors that befell conquered cities and towns.

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Felix ever so slowly and quietly backed away. As he did though, emerging from behind some shrubbery, was a Sarmatian soldier. He hadn't known Felix was here, he had just diverged from his comrades for some reason. He was just as surprised as Felix was but even more surprised to see a dagger cartwheeling through the air and lodging into his throat. He managed to let out half a cry before gurgling hideously as the knife stabbed him and clutching at his ruined throat. Blood spurted through his fingers.


Sudden shouts went up from those standing around the fires who saw the commotion. Shouts that Felix didn't need translated to tell him what they were saying. Felix scurried down an embankment, nearing twisting his knee in his haste to get away. The shouts sounded muffled now but he knew they were going to give chase. He came upon his horse which had waited dutifully behind a copse of trees. In one swift manoeuvre, he vaulted her onto her back. 'Come Julia...ride like the wind...heeyah!' He whipped the reigns and geed her onwards. Through the trees she ran hard, the pair expertly weaving through the obstacles. The Sarmatians soon crested the embankment and upon their magnificent warhorse, vaulted over the top without a second thought. Doing what steppe people did best, they grabbed for their arrows and fired as they rode. Arrows whislted this way and that. One thudded into a tree right near Felix's head as he rode past, missing by inches. 'Far too close!' he grimaced. Felix could hear the arrows whiz past, some passing harmlessly into the soil, others thudding into and off trees.


Whilst they were expert horsemen, the Sarmatians did not know the land nearly as well as Felix and soon he begun to put distance between his pursuers, eventually clearing the woods and galloping across the plains. Having splashed his way across a flowing watercourse, he suddenly veered left into heavy scrub, he effectively lost the Sarmatians who stopped and looked on stupidly from the watercourse. Deciding against venturing so far into Roman territory, they turned around and headed back to their recent acquisition and to enjoy the festivities. Without any reliable information at hand, Felix had no idea whether Constantius had perished in the attack or had fled prior to the oncoming hordes. He thought as to how much this would complicate Julianus' best laid plans to eventually head east. Felix also thought of the money promised for the job. He decided at once to find Decentius.

[Knonfoda]

Nice little twist... bloody Iazyges, will you be giving them the medicine or rebuke, or the rod of chastisement, any time soon?

[Ybbon]

That's thrown a spanner in the works (tr. spanner = wrench for trans-atlantic readers). I would have thought they are a long way out of their territory but clearly not.

[Justinian Australis]

Nice little twist... bloody Iazyges, will you be giving them the medicine or rebuke, or the rod of chastisement, any time soon?

Both my friend...may they choke on the medicine!

That's thrown a spanner in the works (tr. spanner = wrench for trans-atlantic readers). I would have thought they are a long way out of their territory but clearly not.

Instead of spanners/wrenches, I prefer big bulky 48 inch Stilsons, now that's a real man's tool...*cough*. Driller's joke These lazyges are impertinent sorts that pay no heed to boundaries such as the Danube...

Ok, a small update, though its part of a larger one...as it was a rather epic turn I played and is taking a bit to write, not to mention I am rather tired right now after a busy day. All I can say is...Nevitta fans, hold on to your hats!

Chapter XXII: The Agony of Victory Pt 1

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It seemed typical of the occasion for the skies to be overcast. Stratocumulus clouds cast a grey pall over a wide tract of land, lending a dismal feel to proceedings. The sun had eased off in its mid afternoon trajectory, allowing the formation of the clouds after a sunny day that had partially dried the wet battlefield. Heavy rains had soaked the region in the past week. There was nary a breeze to be felt though fortunately, it was neither hot or humid, thus making the oncoming battle a little easier to handle.

'We are going to die today sir, aren't we' said the legionary to Nevitta. It been more a statement of fact than a question. Nevitta looked at the Roman, who though well trained by Nevitta had the look of a man resigned to the inevitable. He then looked back across the valley, through the towering trees he could see an uncountable mass of men coming eagerly towards his elevated position.

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'Yes' he said simply. 'But we will die as Romans, facing the enemy, in the tradition of old, the glorious days of the Republic' Nevitta added. 'At least where we stand gives us a chance to die glorious deaths. Had we remained in that valley, we would have been slaughtered to a man for no gain whatsoever. Nevitta's expeditionary force had initially been assaulted as they headed west into Quadi controlled lands. The huge band of barbarians had been seen swarming down the broken terrain, flitting through the woods, backed by the dreaded Sarmatians. To have stayed where they were would have been suicide, so he sounded the retreat to more defensible positions. Nevitta continued onwards, having dismounted and walked amongst the ranks of comitatensis and palatinae troops. 'Any last advice Vegetius?' Nevitta asked looking straight ahead into nothing. A small greying man walked alongside him.

Vegetius shook his head. 'We have done all we can to prepare. The men are positioned and have their orders' Vegetius was Nevitta's closest staff officer, whom Nevitta always conferred with in matters of warfare, much to the annoyance of others around him. Vegetius, like Nevitta, was a cavalryman but well schooled on all aspects of war. 'We could ask for divine providence in dealing with the Sarmatians however' he said ruefully. Nevitta smiled. 'That providence was provided by our great Emperor, in the form of the Scholae...the Scutarii but their numbers aren't nearly enough. They will hold their own though regardless of their opponents'. The Scholae stood off to the left, their horses snorting and whinnying. The other cavalry, the Promoti held the right.

Nevitta looked amongst his men, steely eyed, rigid and perfectly disciplined. Nevitta had worked hard to instil iron discipline amongst his charges. He went over and mounted his horse, then rode in front of his men, in clear view of the enemy. 'Men! Today is a grim day...yet it is also a glorious one! Even as we perish here today, we will take many of them. We shall cover ourselves in utter glory!'


Vegetius looked up in admiration for Nevitta, normally a rigid, implacable man, now in his element and his usually drawn out way of speaking was put aside for the occasion. 'He who sheds his blood today will be forever remembered as the valiant heroes of Rome, your names whispered with reverence, your deeds spoken with awe. Side by side we shall stand, facing the enemy we will fall...with disdain in our eyes, contempt for the enemy' Nevitta offered a rare grin. 'So, to all you Christians, may your God embrace you in heaven...to the devotees of the Gods, we shall all walk the fields of Elysium together....die well my brothers' Nevitta then abruptly spurred his horse, returned to his retinue as the first orders among the manuballistari were issued.

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In moments, a storm of arrows shot from their deadly weapons on their low trajectories, shredding through the trees and finding all manner of targets...and onwards came the hordes...

[Knonfoda]

Oh my are we in for a treat! Having said that, some of my worst defeats were at the hands of the Quadi (Terentilius and the Danubian legions, anyone?) so it wouldn't surprise me if you were indeed annihilated. But I have faith in Nevitta, in him we must trust now!

[McScottish]

Oooooh ye-ah! Can't wait to see how this pans out, shall they go down fighting or emerge victorious? Only the Gods can say.

[Gandalfus]

Well the title suggests that this is a pyyrhic victory... But I'm not too sure either.

[Ybbon]

Holy smoked lampreys Batman, we're in a world of now!

[Knonfoda]

Holy smoked lampreys Batman, we're in a world of now!

lol

We're in a world of wait now that's what! I want to see how this goes, and I want it NOW!

[Justinian Australis]

It's coming.....

[Justinian Australis]

Holy smoked lampreys Batman, we're in a world of now!

That's exactly what I thought...though if Julianus ever catches the Quadi King, I'd suspect he'd go screaming into a fish pond full of lampreys!

Well the title suggests that this is a pyyrhic victory... But I'm not too sure either.

Indeed your correct. I actually got the title from a NoFX song about deciding to be a homeless bum! I racked my brain for a title and thought that it was appropriate, even if the lyrics are not

Oooooh ye-ah! Can't wait to see how this pans out, shall they go down fighting or emerge victorious? Only the Gods can say.

The Gods can be capricious with their whims and desires! We are merely at their mercy.

Oh my are we in for a treat! Having said that, some of my worst defeats were at the hands of the Quadi (Terentilius and the Danubian legions, anyone?) so it wouldn't surprise me if you were indeed annihilated. But I have faith in Nevitta, in him we must trust now!

Yes, I recall those very well. Poor old Julius, utterly humiliated in battle but I do believe that a young Aetius restored the situation along the Danube and made the Quadi tremble before his very might. I used to be afraid of facing the Quadi because of their horsemen they start out with but realise its not that bad. Once you deal with the Sarmatians...and those bloody berserkers, they can be dealt with. The lazyges however....yikes!

Chapter XXII: The Agony of Victory Pt 2

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'Steady! Steady!' The commands rang out across the field as the Quadi came ever onwards. The Quadi made all manner of noise, howling and screaming and taunting, trying to unnerve the Romans into panicked flight. It was the Scholae that were hit first. The masses of Sarmatian horsemen, the Argaragentes, the lancers and the armoured archers variously crashed into the iron horsemen as arrows whizzed about on their deadly trajectories.

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The Quadi infantry came on in a large single formation. Orders bellowed out for the infantry to unleash their javelins and darts. They too found themselves under fire from the Sarmatians, whose unparalleled mastery of the arrow enabled them to fire great distances. Nevitta, close up behind the infantry, ducked as an arrow shot past his head and miraculously missed everyone in his bodyguard. He grinned sadistically and laughed. So did his men, more a nervous sort of laugh, in the face of such danger.

The Slavic subjects of the Quadi confederacy launched themselves at the Promoti who took severe casualties from the Roman missile fire. Even when facing the spearmen, the Promoti held their own. With the mass of Quadi now upon them, the Jovii and their lighter counterparts the Victores Seniores piled fearlessly into the fray.

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'Damn!' shouted Nevitta. 'Too much disorder...can't control it this way!' He observed the battle split in half. The Cornuti palatini fought on the left as the two distinct roiling, angry blobs of soldiers unleashed their savagery.

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The Promoti had managed to wrangle themselves from fighting the Slavs and envelope the first melee, where the Faramanne and the intimidating Golden Band fought hard. They had already taken quite a few casualties but they couldn't withdraw and reorganise. Their commanders held their nerve, and their mens, and kept stabbing and slashing and continuing to close in around the Quadi like the hang man's noose.

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Nevitta continued to avail his men from behind the battle lines before making decision. 'Follow me brave men! Into the maws of hell we charge! Heeyah!' His cavalry guards watched for a moment as Nevitta spurred his horse into the maelstrom, before snapping from their reverie and thundering towards the Faramanne hordes. Not as heavily armoured as say the Cataphracts, they were still an imposing sight. The Quadi facing Nevitta blanched as the Franko Roman personally unleashed his own brand of rage.

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Behind it all, the ballistae attempted to manouver into some sort of firing position but where hampered by the close quarters fighting. Trying to unleash their bolts was proving difficult. They had intially begun firing but miscommunication had seen several rounds disastrously crash into the second ballistae unit. The manuballistari continued to fire their deadly projectiles, even as the Sarmatians deliberately targeted them.

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The Jovii and the Victores Seniores, along with the Promoti had managed to push those they fought back down the enbankement. More Golden Band warriors marched towards them, believed to be the guard of Chairomerius, clearly in no hurry to join the fight. They believed they were going to win, even though the Romans begun enacting a terrible toll on them.

Nevitta looked around him and noticed just how many men of his initial one hundred strong bodyguard remained. He had suffered nearly half in casualties. Yet he observed the wavering of the Faramanne warband before him. 'Rout them! Rout them! They are going to break men! Onwards!' he implored. The renewed effort from the exhausted Stablesiani was too much and almost miraculously, the enemy routed.

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Vegetius rode around as the barbarians begun to wilt. 'They are starting to quail Nevitta! We may just win yet!' he said excitedly. 'I damn hope so! Just have to deal with those bastard Sarmatians. They are giving us hell!' The Scholae continued to duel with their heavy counterparts, more than holding their own against the deadly horsemen from the east. Even when they found themselves surrounded by the Faramanne cavalry, they fought on viscously.Using their initiative, one of the Cornuti cohorts extracted themselves the dwindling masses of Quadi before them and savaged the rear of the light horse. It caused them to break off and flee in terror, not after been decimated by the spearmen.

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Nevitta saw the air around him light up briefly and realised that his ballistae had started firing. A flaming bolt shot across through the trees and down into the valley where the much of the Sarmatians were patrolling and firing. Nevitta did not watch the carnage but several of the bolts found their mark. The men on the horse were smashed clear from their mounts, the iron bolts first igniting them and burrowing into them like a giant skewer. This elated the infantry to see the Sarmatians come under such fire.

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Nevitta himself was dealing with the Golden Band, along with the dwindling number of Promoti. Even when faced with complete encirclement, and the Brachiati stabbing wildly with their spears, these warriors fought on, such was their discipline.

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The battle continued to rage as the sun begun setting, having now dragged on for several excruciatingly exhausting hours. The battle had spilled down the slopes, still divided in half. Men were stepping over the mounting bodies, just strewn everywhere headless and limbless, some still alive though only just and feebly calling out for help that would not come.

Upon the crest of Nevitta's initial position, the ballistae continued their attacks. However, much to their horror, they could see a wing of the Sarmatian mounted archers came barralling up the left side and towards them.

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They had grown enraged at their accurate and constant firing that it was time to deal with them. 'Oh god! We are doomed!' one of the crew shouted in despair. Nobody could save them now. However the two captains of both crews would not stand around and wait to be run down. 'Let's make this a death to remember boys! Draw your weapons! Charge!' The lightly armed crew nervously drew out their daggers and sword, completely exposed without shields, some of the men turning white at the sight of the mighty horsemen. In a stunning sight, the crewmen left their weapons and nimbly dashed towards them. Instead of waiting for death, they preferred to meet her head on. Horribly outclassed they were cut down in droves. One of the crews were so decimated that they turned around and ran to leave their comrades to die.

It was an utterly awesome sight to behold. The bulk of the Quadi had been slaughtered unmercilessly by cornered and desperate men. They fled, tumbled and slipped down the slope to get away from the carnage. Nevitta ran about, wildly ecstatic to see nearly thirty thousand of the savages put to the sword and forced to run. Still the Sarmatians were present though much depleted. Nevitta charged his horse, continuing to encourage his men with his hoarse voice. He heard his officers doing like wise as they chased down fleeing dogs.

'Victory!' he shouted as he stabbed his sword into the air. 'Victory! He spurred his horse to join in the fight against the remaining Sarmatians and some recalcitrant Faramanne spearmen......

[Knonfoda]

Julius lives still, in disgrace, but he does. And yes, good Old Aetius, also an apostate as he was a Christian, converted to the cause of mighty mercurius, who punished the insolent quadi, the beat like Greuthingi, and the deceitful Iuthungi.... those were the days.

Please tell me he doesn't die. I don't like the sounds of his 'victory! victory!" as he charges a body of Spearmen. That and the 'pyrrhic victory' either...

[Justinian Australis]

Chapter XXII: The Agony of Victory Pt 3

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Vegetius galloped after the fleeing infantry. He noticed that the Stablesiani, what was left of them, had been widely scattered. Still pockets of resistance remained yet all of the infantry were nearly dead or safely off in the distance. He could hear missile fire buzz about uncomfortably and realised that that remnants of the Quadi missile troops had ignored the flight of their comrades and still fired their arrows at them, killing several more Romans.

He gathered a handful of men to him and they charged after the archers. They smashed relentlessly into them. They could not stomach any sort of fight, particularly when Vegetius ripped open one of the archers insides with a savage stab of his sword. This particular soldier went utterly white, blood gushing from the mortal wound, as his intestines slopped uselessly onto the ground. Here he died, as horsemen trampled his carcass to get at the fleeing enemy.

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Yet still another Sarmatian wing of Lancers remained, stubborn to the very end. Quick orders went out as he took his own unit towards them, as the now disengaged Roman infantry moved as fast as they could in their totally exhausted state. Vegetius heard the nervous chatter of the Sarmatians, as if they were debating as to whether to stay and fight to the death or flee. They chose flight but a great deal where cut down trying to get away. The Roman strategic master just let them go, he and his comrades just too spent from chasing so many Quadi.

Vegetius hopped from his horse, or more to the point, fell from it totally spent. After catching his breath, he had a sudden thought. Where was Nevitta? He stood up shakily, his legs little more than jellied eel after all he had been through. He looked down the valley. He looked up. The moon had broken through the cloud cover and cast some light in the fading gloom. In spite of his exhaustion, he quickened his pace. 'Nevitta! Nevitta!' he shouted. Other men who had stopped for respite looked up at the officer, who now begun to jog awkwardly , shedding his weapons and armour, up the slope. The scale of the battle was readily apparent as he proceeded. Bodies were everywhere.

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He could not see the rest of the Stablesiani as he went upwards. Had he charged off in euphoria to chase the enemy and was simply out of ear shot? Then behind a group of threes he saw a group of horsemen and horses just slumped about a tree. They looked utterly dejected. One soldier had a look of sheer grief on his pale face. 'Where is Nevitta?!' he bellowed towards the men. They said nothing, only standing up and parting. As they did so, Vegetius heart leapt into his mouth.

He hurried over to them. 'Nevitta!' his voice was shaky. He saw the general laying bloodied and broken, surrounded by his loyal men as a sort of vanguard. Vegetius stumbled to his side and saw the cause of his predicament. A ragged wound had ripped open his chest, blood frothing and bubbling as he breathed ever so shallowly. 'He is alive! What happened??'

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'Farammane warrior stabbed him in the chest. He fell where he fought. We killed the rest of the dogs' a soldier replied heavily. Nevitta's eyes fluttered open briefly and he recognised his aide. 'Have we won Vegetius?' he asked weakly, blood dribbling from his mouth, staining his grey beard. Even wounded as such, he looked peaceful. 'Yes sir, yes we did! You were right...such a glorious day!' he said smiling, through his own grief at seeing his commander mortally wounded. He hoped against hope but such a wound was too brutal, blood having stained the grass on which he lay, unable to breath properly. 'We must get you to Augusta Vindelicorum at once!' He tried to gesture to the men around him but Nevitta grabbed at his arm and squeezed it. 'I am dying Vegetius...do not concern yourself with my survival' he said between spluttering coughs and wheezing. 'Go forth...tell the Emperor...what...we have done...send me...home Vegetius..' Nevitta's eyes glazed over, letting go of Vegetius' arm and it fell limply to the ground.


Those around him bowed their heads in sorrow, some shed tears, others stood stoically. Vegetius slowly got up, unsteadily. He too shed a tear as he looked down at Nevitta, serene in death and making his way to the green fields of Elysium. No one moved or said anything for sometime. Finally Vegetius spoke. 'We best make for Augusta Vindelicorum. I will head south and see Julianus' He gestured for a legate to organise the men. As they begun preparing his body for transport, Vegetius offered one last salute for his comrade in arms.

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[Knonfoda]

What an epic battle! You suffered your fare share of casualties, and those fields man... wow, so many bodies. It would seem the fates conspire to provide Nevitta with a glorious death, regardless of time and space. A true soldier, a fine officer, a good friend. He shall be missed. Again.

[Gandalfus]

Yes... Again

[Ganbarenippon]

Epic!

[SeniorBatavianHorse]

At last, caught up with the updates and what an epic battle! Pity the manubaliistarii caught up in too. Felix is turning into one of my favourite characters here - long may he stalk the barbaricum.

[McScottish]

Not Nevitta...not again...this is getting to be too damned much. Ah well, those barbarous foes shall pay with their lives, I'm sure.

[Vercingetorix King of Gauls]

Very sad, but great!