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

  1. #141

    Default Re: [IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 24/5/12)

    Thanks guys, you certainly know how to make me blush

    Chapter XXXV

    The sounds of a penna scribbling furiously filled the surrounds of an austere study, words imposed upon the pages of a book that had been half filled. Private thoughts, doubts and concerns, philosophical musings, they all filled these pages. 'Is there a God?' These four words started a new page, an anguished look colouring Corialanus Phocas' weathered face as he wrote them. Inside him was turmoil, his faith in God crashing against the rocks and threatening to break apart. 'I appeal to Him as a supplicant, to seek guidance but I fear He does not hear my prayers, as if He is displeased at me!' For a moment he stopped and looked upwards, then angrily pushed aside the manuscript, scattering some other books and knocking a candle to the floor. He sighed heavily. 'Does thou not care for His flock?' he wondered aloud. He looked back to his desk and then grasped for another manuscript. His eyes settled on the title, 'De Re Militari'...It had taken him many months of pain staking work to write this book, in between his role as Dux and that as the Master of Soldiers in Gallia, a title bestowed upon him by Julianus prior to making for Constantinople. Julianus occasionally sought out the advice of Phocas in military matters, for none possessed a keener understanding of war. Hence, the manuscript he had undertaken at the behest of the Emperor with the sole aim of it to be used as a model in which to train the Empires forces.


    He reached for several messy looking sheets of paper and begun reading them. Satisfied at their accuracy, he begun to write into the manuscript on the chapter entitled 'Quae ipso die procuranda sint, quo publica committitur pugna' Phocas copied the rough draft quickly and was so caught up in his work that he did not notice a man enter his study, unannounced and unasked. When he did noticed this intrusion, he kept on writing. The man looked over to Phocas and his writing, glimpsing the words on the page. 'Yes indeed, good points...many a battle has been lost because a general has misread the sentiments of his men' Phocas simply kept up his scrawling without looking up. 'True, yet how many generals have not given proper care towards motivation of their men? That I'd hazard would play a great role in such situations, as much as he who fails to understand their mood, relying solely instead on their supposed skills to carry the day'


    'How goes your day Prefectus?' the Magister asked politely. 'It so far has been positive, all appears to be in order' The Prefect nosed his way throughout the study of Phocas, as if it were normal thing to do, perusing the private collections of someone else. Phocas placed his penna on the desk and leaned back into his chair. He studied the Prefect casting an appraising gaze upon the works of Polybius. 'What exactly can I help you with?' He didn't answer for a moment as he flipped through the pages of Histories. 'Prefect?' Phocas asked again, growing impatient at the Prefect's seeming aloofness and intrusiveness. 'Oh, my apologies, such a fine collection of writings you house here Magister, I was just marvelling Polybius' 'Histories'. He quickly shut the book and placed it back on the shelf. 'Your business as to being here is?' Phocas again asked with little disguised irritation yet it appeared to go unnoticed in his guest. 'Yes, yes, I am here about your administrative roles within the province.' He made a move to sit down. ' Whilst our functions as Praefectus and Magister exist separately, I have come here to relieve you of your duties as Vicarius Viennensis.. It will allow you to function better as the Magister of the Gallic armies'


    Phocas sat back. 'A Prefect dictating to a Magister, that's interesting' he said with a smirk. 'Yet you are right. Judicial processes and appeals and all that are piling on top of me along with my duties at Magister. Who do you have in mind?'


    'Oh, just an old friend and mentor of mine, Gratianus'


    'Really?' Gratianus wasn't the most trustworthy of individuals. In fact, Julianus had cast aside Gratianus commanding Gallic armies in favour of another officer, not trusting the Romans intentions. 'Yes, really. Do you suspect he could be treacherous?'


    'Well yes, I do. He may be getting old but a leopard does not change its spots. Having him in charge of administrative functions is not wise. He could cause all manner of chaos'


    'Nonsense. Your concerns are unfounded' Valentinianus sniffed imperiously. 'Besides it is my decision, as Prefect of Gallia to appoint whom I choose to administrative duties in Gallia. Do not concern yourself of it'


    'It does not concern me' said Phocas 'Yet it may concern the Emperor, reinstating a man that he personally removed from all important posts. He did not even trust him to garrison some backwater fort in Mauretania' Phocas waived his hands dismissively. 'Enough of the matter, its your head on the block after all'


    Valentinianus grumbled. 'Has not the Emperor called for more responsibility to be displayed by those loyal to him?'


    Phocas had went back to his writing, clearly having had enough in conversing with the Prefect 'He has. Within reason though....' Valentinanus looked at the Magister with increasing hostility. You think that you are the adopted son of Julianus, you can be so dismissive with the Prefect of Gallia! Valentinianus went to get up and leave but halted for a moment. A . 'Do you know that the Emperor has called Decimius Valens to Constantinople?'


    Phocas did not react to his question at first but finally replied. 'I did hear something of the sort. What of it?' Valentinianus stared hard. 'As prefect I do hear much things. I am told that he plans to make Valens his Caesar, forcing Marcellus Barbatus to stand down' Phocas did not see where Valentinianus was heading with it. 'I fail to understand what you are driving at'


    'You two have been adopted by the Emperor as possible successors, as he has had the most awful luck concerning children. Yet for some reason' Valentinianus said with a look of wonderment at the conundrum in his mind 'he has chosen Decimius Valens as the man to succeed him! Why has he done so?' Why is Valens so special when he is little more than some uncouth brute from the backwaters of the Empire, dirty and despoiled by life among the Caledonians and with out an ounce of intelligence in that thick head of his?'


    'Careful Prefect...' Phocas warned but Valentinianus ventured onwards. 'Yet here we have you, Corialanus Phocas, pre-eminent military tactician, the Magister of the Gallic field armies, famously courageous and admired by many, seemingly looked over to be Julianus' successor! Most strange don't you think?'


    'Enough of your waffle Prefect. What exactly do you hope to achieve with such divisive words?' Phocas had stood up angrily. 'Don't think that because you are essentially one of the most powerful men of the Empire, out of the careful gaze of the Emperor, that you can foment trouble for whatever perverse gains you seek'


    Valentinianus feigned a look of surprise at Phocas' angry attack. 'I seek no trouble, Magister, with God as my witness! I merely ask why that Valens is to be successor and not you? Is that question too difficult to confront? Did you know this was the case?'


    Phocas softened a little. His mood was not helped by his crisis of faith that caused him a great degree of anguish. He also did not like Valentinianus very much. No doubt, he had never shown a single act and spoken words of disloyalty, which was vouched by many but he believed that Valentinianus would always look after Valentinianus first and foremost. He did not trust the increasing zealous streak developing within him. 'No, nothing has been communicated to me by the Emperor, it is solely his decision as to who becomes his nominated successor and I do not and will not concern myself with it. Now, I have much work to do, I must travel to Augusta Treverorum...no doubt I will see you there' he said with disguised disgust 'and whilst there there shall be a reorganisation of the armies of the region. You yourself, much like you stripping my Dux title from me, shall lose the auxillia army under your command. As the administrator of the region, it seems pointless for you to have an army as such'


    Valentinianus was not happy about this but hid his feelings well. 'You are correct, of course...I have spent too much time pandering to the soldiers instead of judicial process'


    'Very good. I am glad we are in agreement on this' said Phocas. 'Given that there appears to be some treachery afoot across the river that threatens the stability of the region, your administrative flair will be required no doubt to manage additional provinces, yet that you will no doubt take into consideration as the time comes'


    'Ah yes, the Saxons' nodded Valentinianus. A great opportunity presented itself with the growing hostility and power of the Saxons, who caused havoc by invading Frankish lands with constant raids and weakening the fragile hold on the region that the Franks had. 'So it is certain then, a military expedition across the Rhenus?' asked the Prefect. 'Yes, in correspondence with Julianus it has been agreed that the best course of action is to impose our will upon the Saxons. Firstly through diplomatic means, however military action is a strong possibility for the Saxons will no doubt prove to be intractable at the diplomatic table'. Frankish power must be maintained in the region, no matter how loathsome they are'


    Valentinianus now had no say over the future military plans of the region, with Corialanus Phocas stepping in to direct the campaigns. The Prefect wisely kept to himself the fact that he and Tiberius Secundus had planned on launching their own raids across the river, based on flimsy pretexts, to both further their power in the region. 'Very well Magister, I shall be on my way...I will inform Magnus Drusus to ready a diplomatic envoy to the Saxons' the Prefect informed, silently cursing the best laid plans becoming obsolete. 'May God protect you'


    Phocas watched the Prefect glide from the study. God? What God? Phocas thought bitterly...
    Last edited by Justinian Australis; June 07, 2012 at 07:09 AM.
    'The Last Pagan Emperor'- An Invasio Barbarorum Somnium Apostatae Juliani AAR
    MAARC L 1st Place
    MAARC LXXI 1st Place

    'Immortal Persia' A Civilization III AAR

    Prepare to imbibe the medicine of rebuke!

  2. #142
    SeniorBatavianHorse's Avatar Tribunus Vacans
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    Default Re: [IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 4/6/12)

    Wonderful writing and a lovely scene redolent with drama and setting - as I said before, this is getting better and better!

  3. #143
    Knonfoda's Avatar I came, I read, I wrote
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    Default Re: [IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 24/5/12)

    An excellent update, and one I have been slow to catch up to. Is this Phocas some parallel to Vegetius I wonder? And I love his 'doubts' as to God, I get a lot of generals with 'doubts' too... interestingly enough, the film Doubt itself is actually quite a good one, and one I would recommend!

    I love how already, treachery and deceit are rearing their ugly heads in the important provinces of the Empire. For what is Gaul if not the breeding ground of dissent and military victory, which go hand in hand?

    Is this "the" Valentinianus btw? A traitor, in any tale no doubt! As for the Saxons, they shall be crushed under the might of Rome! Does it matter whom wields the hammer in the end?

    Also, are you having problems with this campaign by any chance? Oh, and lastly, I noticed a few more spelling mistakes (because I am the one to talk... ) than the previous ones. Examples include:

    Quote Originally Posted by Justinian Australis View Post
    [CENTER][B][SIZE=5][FONT=Book Antiqua]Chapter XXXV

    Julianus occasional sought out the advice of Phocas in military matters
    Shouldn't that be occasionally?

    Quote Originally Posted by Justinian Australis View Post
    [CENTER][B][SIZE=5][FONT=Book Antiqua]Chapter XXXV[/I]He quickly shut the book and placed it back on the shelf. [I]'Your business as to been here is?'
    Being here?

    Quote Originally Posted by Justinian Australis View Post
    [CENTER][B][SIZE=5][FONT=Book Antiqua]Chapter XXXVPhocas against asked, with little disguised irritation yet it appeared to go unnoticed in his guest.
    Again asked?

    And some other, minor errors. Other than that, excellent update, and I very much look forward to the next one! And the one after that too...

  4. #144

    Default Re: [IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 24/5/12)

    Quote Originally Posted by Knonfoda View Post
    An excellent update, and one I have been slow to catch up to. Is this Phocas some parallel to Vegetius I wonder? And I love his 'doubts' as to God, I get a lot of generals with 'doubts' too... interestingly enough, the film Doubt itself is actually quite a good one, and one I would recommend!

    I love how already, treachery and deceit are rearing their ugly heads in the important provinces of the Empire. For what is Gaul if not the breeding ground of dissent and military victory, which go hand in hand?

    Is this "the" Valentinianus btw? A traitor, in any tale no doubt! As for the Saxons, they shall be crushed under the might of Rome! Does it matter whom wields the hammer in the end?

    Also, are you having problems with this campaign by any chance? Oh, and lastly, I noticed a few more spelling mistakes (because I am the one to talk... ) than the previous ones. Examples include:



    Shouldn't that be occasionally?



    Being here?



    Again asked?

    And some other, minor errors. Other than that, excellent update, and I very much look forward to the next one! And the one after that too...
    Corrections duly undertaken, thank you for your keen observance. It is indeed the Valentinianus who would succeed Jovianus and I've decided to make Phocas as the parallel for Vegetius, given his traits related to military strategy. I paid pretty much no attention to Phocas, forgetting he was the adopted 'son' of Julianus and hadn't even realised he was the Magister of the Gallic armies, so I thought it would be appropriate to bring him into the story. His traits make him out to be a fine individual.

    As for the errors, you've obviously seen my post in the SAI forums. I am just waiting for JH to upload the link for 1.1 and then hopefully it shall all be hunky dory from there.


    Chapter XXXVI

    It was far colder than what Decimius Valens had ever experienced. Far colder than days spent patrolling the frozen expanses of the Danuvius, constantly on guard for incursions by the Franci. It was hard to maintain concentration in such dastardly weather, with the wind howling from some far off frozen wasteland, grey and miserable clouds that appeared to hug the moutain ranges and steady icy drizzel that chilled a man to his chattering bones. Here in the old Caledonian capital of Dal Raida, it was much the same. Valens was rugged up the best he could, the thickest fur coats attempting to provide some relief from the brutal weather. Fortunately the cloud had cleared and the storm front dissipated allowing the sun to cast its pitiful winter rays upon him but it was a token warmth, mostly one that was imagined in the mind that tried to convince its possesor that there was some form of warmth about. Valens was accompanied by several exploratores and a detachment from his scutarii bodyguard, standing upon a rocky crest that give uninterrupted views of the land to the north west. Broken expanses of woodland, green pastures in between and just off in the distance the ocean could be seen. What also caught Valens attention had been columns of smoke at the edge of one of the woods, coming from inside an encampment. Tiny figures could be seen moving about; groups of men stood watch around the encampment that was unprotected, no walls, no watch towers, nothing. The Picts did not appear to give much though to such considerations that the Romans felt were necessary whilst in the field. Oh well, their loss, an easy kill thought Valens as he watched the scene before him.


    Decimius Valens turned to a rough looking man, cloaked in the thickest of furs with a large hairy moustache covering his face. He was a Frank himself, the very same people he had been every watchful for during his days on patrol. Now, he had them in his service, as part of an agreement signed to end hostilities between Roma and the Franci. Valens commanded a sizeable Franci foederati army that the Frankish King Agandastrius had grudgingly provided. The man off to his left was also named Agandastrius. 'Send word for the cavalry to come wait behind the forest down by that slope. Have the missile troops sent to me. We are going to provide them a very nasty surprise' Agandastrius simply nodded and beckoned for several men to follow. Valens watched the man disappear, shield strapped to his back and clutching a francesca tightly with big hairy hands.


    Valens waited quietly upon the crest, his gaze never leaving the camp of the Picts, who appeared to relax somewhat and engage in idleness, as if they suspected nothing. He could count roughly fifty men; little more than an advanced raiding party, even a rather large scouting party but that didn't really make much sense to be having so much men on reconnaissance. Valens cursed the delay in positioning his men. He turned around to begin barking fresh orders when he nearly fell backwards over the ridge when he was confronted by the oily presence of Magnentius, the Comes of Britannia.


    'Very poor on your part Decimius Valens...leaving your rear so unguarded to a surprise attack' Magnentius grinned sardonically. He was accompanied by his dismounted scutari bodyguard. Valens eyed the Comes cooly and simply said. 'Oh really? At that moment a handful of Valens Franci army emerged from hiding places upon the ridge, from behind large boulders and shrubbery. They pointed crossbows in Magnentius' direction. The Comes smiled. 'Very well played general. You had me there' Valens ordered his men to stand down. Magnentius held out a scroll that bore an Imperial seal on it. 'I received this yesterday, as you can see its from Augustus, intended for you. Seems you have friends in high places'


    Valens crouched down and begun reading the document. A look of surprise spread across his handsome features. 'I have been summoned to Constantinople' he said, not believing the words he saw. 'Yes I know, how I did, you need not know but I was aware. As to why...I cannot say myself but it must be something important' replied Magnentius. He took in the scene before him. 'You best leave now. Leave this little problem' gesturing to the enemy encampment below ' to me. They are actually part of a moderately sized invasion force, I've been watching them myself for the last few days. We shall move on them as soon as those reinforcements provided by Valentinianus arrives'


    Valens did not move. He was still struck with awe at his summons. He felt a tinge of fear as well, uncertainty at the unknown that lay before him. 'Well go on...it will be next year by the time you arrive if you keep dawdling!' the Comes said. Valens was snapped from his trance and at once gathered his weapons and headed off with a detachment of Magnentius' own guard as an escort, towards his appointment with the Emperor.


    * * * *


    A single candle provided pitiful light for a solitary figure sitting just beyond its glow. It didn't matter, she preferred to hide away in the dark of her bed chambers, sitting as still as a statue by a large polished mirror, with an intricately carved mahogany frame. She idly ran pearl beads through her fingers and gazed at the stunning gem stones set into a magnificent gilded tiara that sat on the dressing table. Wafts of incense drifted past her from burners in the corner of the room. She lightly sniffed the sweet scent of cinnamon that brought forth of flood of memories from happier times; lazy afternoons in the warm Lutetian sunshine of summer spent cavorting on soft green grass, hours of idle chit chat about anything that took their fancy, just the two of them, without the grasping and self serving court officials interrupting with their ceaseless babble.


    No Maximus, no Oribasius, as dear as she held Oribasius to her heart. Helena sighed deeply at the thought of the happier times that were now locked away in the past. Julianus was once jovial, less rigid and the optimist. These days, he was increasingly aloof, agitated, tired and frustrated and prone to bouts of melancholy that took days to emerge from. She did not blame him, for the demands of the office of Emperor would have its effects on any man in many different ways. She found now that it too had adverse effects on her state of mind; she worried constantly, had occasional panic attacks and had vivid images of Julianus laying dead with his side pierced by the spear of an assassin. Helena felt herself aging with each passing day and wished only for the presence of her husband, if it were only for a few minutes, just to embrace without words. Time together was as rare as an honest Roman politician.


    She reached for the base of the candle and carried it over to her bed. She removed her silk night gown, especially imported by Julianus from far off exotic India and let it fall to the floor. Helena wondered momentarily about what India was like. It seemed so far away as to be utter incomprehensible to her. It was much like Julianus. Though he was nearby in the far side of the Great Palace, he may well have been in India for all the distance that was felt between the two. It was another stifling night in the city of Constantine, so she chose to sleep bereft of clothing and slid effortlessly onto the silk sheets of the bed. Before extinguishing the flame of the candle, she uttered a few words to Janus, which seemed appropriate given the great changes that were gripping Rome currently and all that had gone on before now. With the light extinguished, she lay still as tears began streaming down her face.

    'The Last Pagan Emperor'- An Invasio Barbarorum Somnium Apostatae Juliani AAR
    MAARC L 1st Place
    MAARC LXXI 1st Place

    'Immortal Persia' A Civilization III AAR

    Prepare to imbibe the medicine of rebuke!

  5. #145
    McScottish's Avatar The Scribbling Scotsman
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    Default Re: [IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 7/6/12)

    Truly excellent, I thoroughly enjoyed reading it and your updates never fail to impress. Can't wait to hear more about all the characters, even the two brothers who I dislike so much...Gothic tendencies, I suppose.

  6. #146
    Knonfoda's Avatar I came, I read, I wrote
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    Default Re: [IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 7/6/12)

    Marvellous, a really good update. I particularly liked how you explained to some extent the tendency Julian had to sleep alone, as they share separate rooms. I also found it very poignant to see her alive here, with these emotions, and dead in mine while Julian suffers from the same sorrow she suffers here. It adds a sense of continuity. I suppose characters never really die, do they?

  7. #147
    Ganbarenippon's Avatar Protector Domesticus
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    Default Re: [IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 7/6/12)

    You've really stepped your game up since the last time I commented, and that's saying something. This has developed into one of the better AAR's on the Eras board. Bravo sir!
    Last edited by Ganbarenippon; June 07, 2012 at 09:53 AM.

  8. #148
    Ganbarenippon's Avatar Protector Domesticus
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    Default Re: [IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 7/6/12)

    Double-post...disregard. Damn lag!
    Last edited by Ganbarenippon; June 07, 2012 at 09:54 AM.

  9. #149
    SeniorBatavianHorse's Avatar Tribunus Vacans
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    Default Re: [IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 7/6/12)

    Another superb update - effortless writing and great character work, too. The scene overlooking the Picts is a masterclass in economy and tension. And I have to echo other sentiments here in feeling vaguely upset at reading about Helena in this AAR after having just been advised about her death in another one (you know whose!). I think this qualifies as one of the most moving AAR reading days I have ever had - so thanks to you both!

  10. #150
    Ybbon's Avatar The Way of the Buffalo
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    Default Re: [IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 7/6/12)

    It is becoming a rare old vintage wine, improving in depth and quality the longer it is kept. As SBH said, it is particularly well-timed with Knonfoda's episode with Helena's death. You can feel the miles separating them already when they are only rooms apart.

  11. #151
    Rex Anglorvm's Avatar Wrinkly Wordsmith
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    Default Re: [IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 7/6/12)

    Fantastic AAR, I am really enjoying this so far. They are some great pieces of work here in the ERAS section at the moment.

    Rep+

  12. #152

    Default Re: [IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 7/6/12)

    Chapter XXXVII

    Heavy rain swollen clouds swept inexorably across the land and a stiff north westerly whipped up leaves and other bits of natures detritus. Occasionally lightning cracked across the bitter grey skies, followed by the ominous rumbling of thunder that the soldiers took for the displeasure of the Gods at mankind's folly. Several thousand men stood silently, shields braced, bearing the brunt of natures tempest. Behind them a giant of a man bellowed orders and encouragement and also rebuked those who may have had thoughts of flight in such treacherous conditions. He needn't have bothered; his men would follow him into the maws of Hades. Before them, howling like the wind, were hundreds of geburas,spears brandished as they sloshed over the sodden ground.


    The giant war chief waited patiently as his faramanne stood rigid. Then with a single yell, several hundred axeman emerged through the ranks, screaming all sorts of abuse at the enemy. Without wasting time, they hurled their throwing axes with deadly accuracy. The carnage from the blows excited the men who then plunged headlong into the geburas who reeled at the impact from the frenzied axe men. They swung and hacked with cheerful abandon, the front row of the geburas collapsing in a fount of blood and guts, bones splintering and limbs cleaved. Bravely, if not foolishly in face of such spite, the lowly spearmen stood their ground, using the length of their spears to try and keep the axemen at length to prevent inflicting further carnage. Behind them more men moved forward.


    Over head could be heard the whistling of arrows that passed over the geburas and peppered the heavier armed warriors that pushed forwards. They seemed imperveous from the hail of arrows. Even in the gloom their mail coats seemed to gleam, displaying in their disposition their proud and fierce spirit. The gisipe, with their battle masks, were a sight to behold. At the approapriate moment they charged forward, just as the remaining geburas detached themselves from the axes of the enemy and then ploughed into the axe men. Their impact was just as devastating, if not more, than the heriskara. They brandished their two handed swords and chopped viciously into the foe. They lived and breathed war, it was all that they trained for. They strove to out compete one another with glorious deeds and the spoils of battle they collected. There was no other fighting force quite like the gisipe.


    The heriscara had no answer to the brutal onslaught as they died rapidly. Self preservation, in spite of their fierce war chief, won over as they begun to scramble away from the human threshes in front of them. In their fear they crashed into the geburas who watched with growing fear the slaughter before them before the gisipe in turn crashed into them. They were no match for these professional fighters. The burly war chief, dismayed at the cowardice of his own men, let out an anguished roar and ordered his bodyguard and the arrayed noblemen to his left to attack without delay.


    As the comitatus and suebiske adalinge battered into the enemy, it became a gruesome fight to the death. There would be no yielding on either side, no thoughts of safety. The war chief found himself in the middle of the fray; caught unawares momentarily he was knocked onto his back by a sharp blow that clattered off his shield by one of the gisipe, who was equal in stature and a large red beard fought its way out from the under golden mask. Incredibly his sword clattered off the bossing and, such was the power behind the blow, the sword buried into the neck of a fellow warrior. This time the enemy soldier was caught off guard by the freakish hit and this allowed the Frank to kick out from his prostate position and trip up the surprised enemy. The gisipe warrior was soon joined by another of his comrades, minus his head, his body landing on top of the unfortunate man. More men crowded before him and he soon lost sight of the man who was about to become his kill. Frustrated he unleashed upon those before him and exhibited the skills that made him the King of his people, that enabled him to bind usually disparate peoples under one iron will.


    The rain came down heavier now, mixing with the accumulating gore and making things ever more treacherous. More of the enemy joined in the battle. Those who had disgraced themselves with flight were overcome with shame and they sought absolution by returning to their commander. Order had long ago broke down and it had degenerated into pockets of battles. The King's men were wearing and had taken a frightful toll and would have been destroyed had it not been for the sudden arrival, completely unexpected, of a small body of Frankish warriors, who had been waylaid on their way to the battle by brigands. Yet here they were, their numbers tipping the battle back towards the Franks, ever so slightly. Without hesitation they charged into the fight. The gisipe found themselves surrounded, the geburas had been routed by the suebiske adalinge. Gradually the Franks begun grinding their stubborn opponent into the muck and grime, to the point that even the gisipe decided upon self preservation. 'After them! Kill everyone of them! Do not disappoint the Gods!' The King shouted as his men pursued and hacked the routers into oblivion. After several hours of bloody warfare, the battlefield soon grew quiet, despite the occasional crack of thunder and pitiful cries of the wounded.


    Agandastrius was spent from the exertion, out of breath and weak at the knees...but triumphant none the less. His forces had been numerically inferior but they still prevailed against mighty opposition. From his sitting position he looked at a relatively fresh faced warrior. 'You' he pointed towards him, in a voice full of authority. 'You are ...to go to my ….dignitaries, collect them... …. go across the river ….. to Augusta ….Trevororum...” Agandastrius tried to catch his breath and took a moment to regather himself. 'Seek out they...who they call...Flavius Valentinianus...tell him that the Saxons...the Saxons have us hard pressed....we need their protection now' The King then collapsed onto his back. The soldier had already disappeared as fast as he could. Several other men came over to the King and helped him to his feet. 'You'd seek out the Romans for assistance my lord?' asked one of the men. Agandastrius stared ahead at the battlefield and was silent for some while. 'It galls me to seek the assistance of those dogs...yet if we are to bend over backwards for them, then they can at least help us in our battles against the Saxons'


    'They cannot come soon enough' said the other man. 'We have precious few men left' The King snorted. 'That's because the Romans took them across the sea to Britannia! Come, we must return home and prepare...for the Saxons will surely be back. They won't take this defeat laying down. Pray to the Gods men, make the appropriate sacrifices' he looked down at two badly wounded Saxon warriors were unfortunate to have survived the battle, 'for we shall need their help if we are to survive'




    * * * * * *


    As soon as they had come, disseminated their information and then received the appropriate response, they were gone. Valentinianus watched the backs of the Frankish delegation disappear down the corridors of the seat of power within Augusta Trevororum. He had a twisted smile that betrayed his inner thoughts. He turned to a statue of the Virgin Mary that was near by and made the sign of the cross and uttered a few words. 'God has been kind' he laughed. Valentinianus then hurried in the direction of the Frankish delegation. Up ahead, he noticed Tiberius Secundus walk inside the palace, stop and observe the Franks beating a hasty retreat. One of the Franks as he passed stared hard at Tiberius through coal black eyes. Tiberius looked down the corridor and noticed the scurrying form of Valentinianus. 'Just the man I wished to see!' Valentinianus called out to him. Tiberius said nothing as the Prefect came up to him. 'What were they doing here?' he asked bluntly. 'They were here offering myself a lifeline, as it where' replied the Prefect.


    'What are you on about?' Tiberius asked curtly. 'That is no way to speak to your superior!' said Valentinianus testily. 'What I am on about is that the Saxons have attacked the Franks. By the treaty imposed by Rome on the Franks, we are obligated to provide assistance to them military wise, in return for recognising Rome's superiority and providing men for our armies'


    Tiberius looked blankly at the Prefect. 'I am aware of that, I was there when the deal was negotiated' Valentinianus clasped his bony hand upon the beefy shoulder of Tiberius. 'Don't you see my friend? This presents an opportunity to further our power and impose our will upon these unruly heathens and further turn the screws upon the Franks. Saxons I do not care much for either way, if we must kill a few thousand to meet these ends, then that's acceptable but the Franks will well and truly bow down to us more than ever before'


    'Does the Emperor approve of this path you are planning to take? Why do you wished to get so heavily involved in Francia? It's a barren worthless waste land that should be left to the barbarians to weaken themselves over' Tiberius appeared disinterested in Valentinianus and his scheme. The Prefect seemed a little too desirous for personal power and wealth. Surely he could find that elsewhere than in the poor lands of the Franks and Saxons?


    'The Emperor will see that this course is necessary' replied Valentinianus stuffily. 'We must hurry at once before the Saxons do serious damage' Tiberius frowned. 'I thought the Magister was arriving to personally conduct the campaign? Valentinianus grew annoyed at the General's insistent questions. 'Yes, yes but he shan't arrive in time, there is every threat to the power of Rome in the region and we cannot delay one more minute! I am sure that Phocas will understand' Valentinianus exaggerated. Saxon power in the region was not ideal but hardly calamitous for Roma. Valentinianus stared hard at Tiberius. 'You must ready your men and we shall march first thing in the morning. That is an order'


    Tiberius remained deeply sceptical about the Prefects motives but decided to co-operate. 'Just one thing...what of Campus Frisii...surely we will need to attack through there to drive back the Saxons. What will happen to the province? Will it be returned to the Franks?' Valentinianus sighed. 'Yes of course it will...now stop delaying!' he waved his hands about in exasperation. Tiberius had no intention of hurrying off at Valentinianus' insistence but turned about to do the bidding of the Prefect. He stole a glance at the Prefect who still stood in the same place as before, who appeared to be trying to read the inner thoughts of Tiberius. A snake in the grass... he thought to himself. Best be careful were one treads.
    'The Last Pagan Emperor'- An Invasio Barbarorum Somnium Apostatae Juliani AAR
    MAARC L 1st Place
    MAARC LXXI 1st Place

    'Immortal Persia' A Civilization III AAR

    Prepare to imbibe the medicine of rebuke!

  13. #153
    Ybbon's Avatar The Way of the Buffalo
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    Default Re: [IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 16/6/12)

    Ah a scene setter, I feel like I should be doing a Mr Burns - rubbing my hands while saying "excellent..." +rep

  14. #154
    McScottish's Avatar The Scribbling Scotsman
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    Default Re: [IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 16/6/12)

    First my poor Goths, now my poor Saxons...no wonder I hate the Franks. Needless to say, an excellent update! I can't wait to see how this unfolds.

  15. #155
    Knonfoda's Avatar I came, I read, I wrote
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    Default Re: [IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 16/6/12)

    Indeed, nice to see things from the point of view of the Saxons. As Spartacus' wife would say in the Spartacus miniseries:

    "Kill them... all!""

  16. #156
    SeniorBatavianHorse's Avatar Tribunus Vacans
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    Default Re: [IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 16/6/12)

    Another excellent update - and a great battle description, to boot!

  17. #157

    Default Re: [IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 16/6/12)

    I have to say, I found writing that battle scene rather difficult, not really knowing how the enemies of Rome preferred to slay each other. Soon, very soon I shall get to some battles involving Rome...just not yet. Apologies if there are more than usual spelling errors spoiling the story, I have a new keyboard and its difficult to get used to!

    Chapter XXXVIII

    Julianus felt an overwhelming sense of history as his column marched through the rugged terrain of southern Greece, heading southward towards Nicopolis. The army had run the gauntlet of pro Constantius forces near Constantinople, yet they wisely held their distance and did not offer any engagement. The freshness of the spring air invigorated him, away from the stuffy maddening confines of Constantinople, its noise and ceaseless chatter driving him to distraction. All now that he heard was the sounds of an army on the march, the clattering of personal possessions that the soldiers packed into their rucksacks, plodding and scraping boots, the snorting of horses and the usual braggadocio of the soldiers, amusing themselves on their tiring marches over rocky ground, through narrow defiles (carefully reconnoitred beforehand), through towering cypress and fir forests and over ridges that dropped off far below onto menacing ground below.


    Currently the army moved along the high ground straddling a wide valley below which on the far side had sheer jagged cliffs. The bottom of the valley had a dusty hard pack track that would've made for more comfortable marching however the track was flanked by age old pine trees and other assorted botanical curiosities. Though it did place his army in a higher more exposed location, he preferred his current pathway to the forbidding expanse below. It appeared dark and uninviting and Julianus instantly thought of Germania and its brooding and malevolent forests, where evil seemed to lurk behind every tree. Julianus rode alongside Avidius,serving now as Julianus' senior officer. Maximianus was enjoying the delights of Constantinople, supervising the rest of the domestic guards that had been left behind to remain as protectors of the city. The requested reinforcements for the city had only just arrived at Dyrrachium and would be several weeks before they arrived...provided they did not get ambushed by the enemy in the mean time.


    Avidius in his officer attire always looked uncomfortable. The massive Roman of barbarian extraction preferred to do his fighting up front with his men, using his intimidating size and thunderous voice to guide his men forward and to frighten less rigid enemies. Julianus had persuaded him long and hard to take Maximianus' position. Worse still for him, he hated horses, finding it unnatural to be so high off the ground, trusting his movements to an animal. Ever so slowly he got a grip, so to speak, on riding the horses. His was as big as he was, not built for speed (like his rider), jet black and full of attitude when given its head. Yet Avidius managed to keep his war horse under control...somehow. He'd be glad once the army reached its main destination so he'd be moving under his own volition.


    'That lake there Avidius, do you know its name?” queried Julianus, staring down towards a large deep blue body of water almost oval in shape, surrounded by fertile plains, in stark contrast to the rugged hillside that they travelled in. 'I am unaware of it Augustus, yet I know it means we are not far from Nicopolis. Another two days march at the most...the scouts should be back soon with news' said Avidius. Julianus marvelled at the utter blueness of the waters, betraying its depth, the surface still in the balmy spring morning. He saw a flock of birds fly noisily to the south, erupting in a fluttering of feathers from nearby fir trees, alarmed at the passing of these strange interlopers into their world. Julianus let his mind wander for a moment, back to the departure from Constantinople. The awkward departure at that...the bleary eyes of Helena gazed sadly back at him. As usual he had been so caught up in events that he only heard Oribasius' voice the third time he called his name. His stony, almost uncaring face softened at the sight of his wife.


    'My dear, is everything all right?' Julianus asked, his voice heavy with concern. He lightly clasped her shoulders. Helena smiled. 'Yes my dear, all is well' she lied. 'It's this heat, it makes it so hard to sleep' That part was true. Julianus embraced his wife. 'I must go now. When I return, I promise we shall find far friendlier climes in which to spend our days' Promises, promises, promises. How many words had he uttered to her, promises and desires that went largely broken and unfulfilled. He had not realised, until now, that Helena had changed, becoming more withdrawn and sullen. Julianus too realised that he had changed. He felt a sudden stab of regret. Sorrow filled his heart at the chasm he realised was forming between them, before long becoming impossible to bridge. I must not let that happen... he thought resolutely. Yet he had said similar things before and he reverted to old habits. He begun hating what the rule of the Roman world was doing to his relationship.


    A commotion coming from further up the marching column arrested him from delving deeper into destructive negativity. He strained to see ahead of the mass of men and horse. 'It's the scouts Augustus' Avidius informed. Having marched non stop for the past five hours since sun up, he decided to send out the word to halt. He'd be better able to receive the report from the scouts. The cries went out and they repeated down the column before finally the lead groups halted. He noticed that the scouts were in somewhat of a flutter. As they approached he noticed several had blood stains on their face. Immediately he dismounted, as did Avidius and several other officers. One scout stopped before Julianus and saluted. 'What happened to you?' the Emperor asked.


    'We had contact my lord, with what we though was Constantius' foraging party. They were the Illyrian numeri, to the south down by where the lake feeds into another body of water' the scout said hurriedly, pointing towards their encounter. 'We took casualties but managed to get away before they chopped us to pieces' Julianus' became angry. 'Contact? How did this happen. I explicitly ordered that no engagement be made!'


    'It was unavoidable my lord, they were well concealed...they knew what they were doing' the scout was unperturbed by the Emperor's anger. They had been careful in their movements, yet had stumbled upon the Illyrian's who had stopped near a rocky outcrop down near the lake to get their bearings. A short and bloody fight ensued, in which Julianus' numeri only just managed to escape. They were more than a foraging party, they were a forward scouting party with orders to kill enemies they had happened upon. 'Damn them!' Julianus blurted looking off to the distance. 'There goes the surprise...they will be hot footing it back to Constantius right now' He looked back at the scouts. 'Very well, you've done well and shall be rewarded' He turned to Avidius and his cadre of officers. 'We shall get the men going again and double the pace. We have no time to lose. We cannot allow Constantius to escape again' Avidius and the officers nodded. Avidius barked at several subordinates who raced off down the line. The Emperor and his military adviser immediately mounted their horses. He then called over another man. 'Send word to have the baggage remain behind and have the guards posted at once' He too raced off.


    'I will back them into the water if I have to. Even if they swim out to the islands I will swim after them. This has to end Avidius...I am tired of chasing him. I am tired of his absolute refusal to yield. When I have him in my company, then I shall make him see reason and to understand the folly of his behaviour'


    'I am sure you will my Lord...the favour of the Gods are with you' Avidius said. 'That reminds me' Julianus said suddenly. 'The Maurian reinforcements. I wonder where they are?' Avidius shook his head. 'If I had received word, you'd know also. For all we know they could still be in Africa...or they could be feeding the fish' Julianus looked at his Tribune with a scowl. 'Where is your faith!' Avidius stared straight ahead at the column which was in the process of moving off again. 'Oh, I have faith in most things my lord...I just will believe their arrival when I see them. You never know with places so far away like Africa'


    Julianus stared at Avidius with incredulity. 'Do you honestly believe that Flavius Verenianus would be so malignant as to ignore Imperial authority?' Avidius turned slowly to Julianus and engaged his Emperor with those fierce blazing blue eyes that frightened even the toughest of his subordinates. 'He is not a man I'd readily trust. Who knows what he is up to over there?' Julianus shook his head. 'You should stick to military matters and not postulating about treachery. Even if you do suspect such things, why haven't you said this to me before?' asked the Emperor. 'Because I prefer to dwell on military matters...and not postulate on other things' Avidius turned slowly to the Emperor and offered a broad, cheeky grin. 'You fool' Julianus muttered, rolling his eyes. Only Avidius could get away with such insolence. Despite his irritation, the Emperor had taken a liking to the gruff, tough talking Tribune. No further words were spoken between the two, even the vast bulk of the army were silent as they realised what now lay ahead.
    'The Last Pagan Emperor'- An Invasio Barbarorum Somnium Apostatae Juliani AAR
    MAARC L 1st Place
    MAARC LXXI 1st Place

    'Immortal Persia' A Civilization III AAR

    Prepare to imbibe the medicine of rebuke!

  18. #158

    Default Re: [IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 23/6/12)

    Chapter XXXIV



    The circling and swirling dust was so thick that Verenianus struggled to pick out what his observers had spied far off over the dunes. 'There again dominus...Dimidi rises in the distance' Trying to shield his eyes from the gritty sand and peer out at the same time was proving impossible, yet he just caught a glimpse. 'Yes...yes, I see it!' he exclaimed, relieved at last to see the supposed capital of the Berbers. Marching through some of the worst countryside he had ever experienced had proved exceedingly exasperating for the Comes. Fortunately he had not been harassed by any of the Berber raiders, for they could have made use of the constant dust storms that swept in from the south, tossing ungodly quantities of dry, biting sand into the air. Everything was swallowed by it and thanks only to their allied Berber guides did they stay on track.


    Verenianus was taken aback. He could see sizeable defences around the settlement; the watch towers appeared enormous, unless it was the abominable conditions playing tricks on his eyes. 'Stone fortifications?' he asked. 'I am unsure dominus but it has been some time since I have been there. It's possible' replied the scrawny dust caked guide, whose eyes peered out from behind his protective head wear. 'Then they may not be as barbaric as I thought' replied Verenianus. His guides said nothing at the jibe, instead looking ahead perched upon their camels. 'Dominus, down ahead on the plains...there is a vast body of men!' one said excitedly. Sure enough, after another sand laden gale force wind swept away he could see thousands of men advancing on his position. 'They knew we were coming' the Comes said. 'Perhaps from many miles back, unobserved' a fellow Roman officer said, eyeing the Berber guides suspiciously. Verenianus watched the large body of men advance towards them. 'There must be over thirty thousand of them...at least we have the high ground here' Verenianus ordered his men immediately to take up battle formations. The six cohorts of the Quartodecimani took front rank, the Septimi Seniores were held in reserve. Either side were the cavalry with the missile troops up front. Standard tactics for Verenianus. He had no light troops, only the equite auxillia, to harrass the enemy. He hoped that there were no reinforcements hiding in behind the turbulent air.


    The Romans waited in the soft sand. It was not impossible to move in yet was soft enough to cause a premature onset of fatigue. Men weighed down with armour would suffer, as would the horses. The Berber cavalry was better suited to such conditions, bred to deal with such arid conditions. Though they had fewer numbers, the Berbers attempted to flank the Romans with the cavalry sent out wide on both sides. 'Let them come! Do not exert yourselves unduly. Trust yourselves and the victory will come' Verenianus encouraged his men. The enemy were cavalry heavy. The heavy cavalry strayed too close to the Roman center where the lanciarii stood. They were pelted with javelins and the result was catastrophic. They broke under the torrent of wood and metal. On the flanks they had just as little success. The Roman cataphracts were able to get close enough to the Mauretanian cavalry and destroy them. The Promoti had similar success after defying Verenianus' orders to hold firm, pursuing them down the dunes, catching them and then annihilating them. As they were regrouping from their success, they realized that a second, even larger army, heavy with infantry, were moving towards the Romans. They turned about and begun the agonising climb back up the dunes to report what they had seen.


    The Promoti had arrived to see the Quartodecimani had engaged the Berber infantry, the lightly armed spearmen and the Garagamentes warriors. The heavily armed Romans had crashed into their nimble foes and inflicted a crushing defeat upon them, almost instantly sending the Berbers back to where they had come from. Verenianus did not want them to be able to regroup at Dimidi and create additional fighting, so they were pursued and killed. The African legion then regrouped to face the Berbers, lead by their famed cheftian Ashtzaph. Even as he marched the immense body of infantry towards his foe, a sense of despair carried across to the Romans. The Berber general had hoped to attack and swamp the invaders with the sheer weight of numbers yet had been delayed inexplicably and now arrived to have seen vast numbers of his brethren slaughtered all about him. His own cavalry were limited and no match for the Romans.


    However they marched onwards to their doom, with now the Septimi Seniores forming the front line. They cheerfully unloaded their pila and then barralled their way down the dunes and smashed into the Garagamentes. The Quartodecimani were not to be denied their own victory, as they assailed the enemy either side of their legionary counterparts. Ashtzaph and his subordinate decided it was better to die honourably than to flee like dogs and suffer the scorn of their countrymen. Their great hope at repelling the Romans had evaporated like the brief appearance of water in the wadis of the region. Without mercy, for Verenianus's rage at the Berbers and their raids was unleashed, they pursued as many as possible, even in the face of complete exhaustion. Only several hundred fled the slaughter, escaping back inside Dimidi to await their doom.


    Verenianus completed the necessary tasks following the battle and proceeded towards Dimidi. He was surprised when he happened across a handful of bedraggled travellers, who stood outside makeshift tents. They were hidden behind large dunes that spilled onto rocky ground that led towards the city. His men instantly became wary, for they appeared to be Berbers but one man removed his hood and revealed himself as a Roman. He strode towards Verenianus. The Comes recognised the diplomat as the man that he had sent to the Berbers when he disembarked on the continent.


    'Ah, Gaius Fabricius, is it not?' he queried. Fabricius bowed. 'Yes my lord, you sent me and my men as an emissary to the Berber people some weeks ago'. Verenianus got down from his horse. 'It is certainly a long way from Gallia for you' Fabricius smiled. 'Yes my lord...and a good deal hotter as well...and dustier. I cannot fathom why these people live in these lands'


    'They are dirt poor miserable wretches, the desert is the only place that would have them' the Comes scoffed, 'though I did see a worrying sign of unity and organisation among them. Those walls look remarkably well engineered and their armies appeared organised...not the usual raiding bands that have harassed our lands...'


    'Why are you out here though?' the Comes wondered. 'We were preparing to enter the city to deliver your original proposal when we were hit by a violent sandstorm. Fortunately our shelter did not blow away in it, the Gods only know why or we would have been buried beneath six foot of sand' the diplomat explained. The Comes took a deep draft of water that was offered by a subordinate to quench his growing thirst. 'Well, that original proposal is currently invalid. We have a new proposal to make, one that I expect them to refuse outright...however that refusal shall allow me to finish this bothersome war' Verenianus briefed the diplomat and his retinue and after a short while, the Comes, his bodyguard and the diplomatic envoy rode forward to the main gate, where suspicious and blood shot eyes watched them warily.


    Fabricius boldly strode towards the gate. The defenders made no attempts to fire at the diplomat . With as loud a voice he could muster he called upon whoever was in charge to come to engage in negotiations for the cessation in hostilities. A wiry man had watched upon the wall, listening to Fabricius over the din of the roaring wind. He turned around and shouted something down to those below him. He received his response and told the envoy to wait. The wait must've dragged on for half an hour before finally a man with a red turban and dressed in white flowing robes stood upon the battlements of the wall. Other men stood solemnly beside him. 'Come closer so we may converse' the man shouted in a gravelly voice. 'You will not be harmed. You have my word'


    'I think its best you come down to us and meet us. I do not think it appropriate that you should be negotiating from such heights. It does not seem appropriate in such a situation in which your people find you' the diplomat admonished. 'Who do I speak to?' The man raised his chin imperiously. 'You shall address me from your position, befitting as invaders of these lands. I am Philosr, a man strong enough to unite many peoples under one banner. I am, as you Romans would say, King' Suddenly Verenianus burst out laughing. Fabricius turned around to see the Comes clutching his sides as he laughed hysterically. He staggered forward, unable to control his mirth. He placed a hand on Fabricius' shoulder as he managed to compose himself enough to speak. 'You...you are the King?' He laughed again. Philosr scowled. 'What do you find so funny?'


    'Oh, it was just something you said...King...you say your strong enough to unite these people and yet...yet you cower behind these walls like a weak old woman! You send others to their death and you rest comfortably behind these fortifications' Verenianus laughed again. 'You are not a King, you are a cowardly dog!'


    Verenianus shook his head. 'Listen carefully...King...Philosr. I shall yet allow you to remain as King if you only submit yourself fully to Roman authority in every manner that is acceptable to us. If you only see past any pride that you have, your people may live out the rest of their days as faithful allies and you as King of your people'


    He moved forward several steps, flanked by his ever watchful bodyguards. 'However' he added ominously, face hardening to stone. 'Refuse my reasonable demands and you shall all die to the very last God damned man, woman and child. Your name shall never be spoken of again. Nobody will know of your existence and that of your people. You will become dog excrement under the sandals of Rome. Rome has a unique way of crushing her enemies and erasing their names and achievements from the pages of history'


    Philosr looked down upon the Roman before him and summed up his position. 'Such fine words you speak...so very Roman in their composition. It is not my position to offer my people up as harlots to be despoiled by Romes greedy grasp. We value our freedom and will never surrender, no matter what you may say'. Destroy us here and my son will continue to resist' Philosr waited for the Roman to burst into a torrent of rage and invective. It didn't come. Ever so faintly he had hoped that the Roman would be bluffing in his threats to exterminate everyone but it was a faint hope, like a thin wisp that disappeared when Verenianus finally replied in an eerily calm manner


    'Very well Philosr. I do suggest that you turn to whatever Gods that you worship and begin praying fervently for a miracle, for you shall surely need one' Verenianus spat in the direction of the Berber King before swirling around and begun issuing orders for the commencement of the siege, trailed in his wake by the bewildered Fabricius.
    'The Last Pagan Emperor'- An Invasio Barbarorum Somnium Apostatae Juliani AAR
    MAARC L 1st Place
    MAARC LXXI 1st Place

    'Immortal Persia' A Civilization III AAR

    Prepare to imbibe the medicine of rebuke!

  19. #159
    McScottish's Avatar The Scribbling Scotsman
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    Default Re: [IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 24/6/12)

    Ah, he does it again! Can almost feel the sand whipping my face and the scorching sun on the skin. Excellent updates, my friend, quite excellent. + rep for you! (When I can)

  20. #160
    SeniorBatavianHorse's Avatar Tribunus Vacans
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    Default Re: [IB SAI:AAR] The Last Pagan Emperor (UPDATED 24/6/12)

    Agreed! Excellent updates and nice use of image too! This is getting better and better. Keep up the good work!

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