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Thread: Fractured Eagle <Historical Fiction> -Updated 6/30

  1. #41

    Default Re: Fractured Eagle- updated 12/19


    Chapter 10. Rejuvenation (II)


    The morning sun melted the thin layer of snow that held their ground tenaciously. Birds sing in the distance as they welcomed a much delayed spring. The British legionaries dressed themselves in proper armor, and their standard bearer unwrapped the Rho-Chi banner.

    The men are in high spirit. Just last night they ambushed a few dozen Barbarian scavengers and liberated a Roman couple. They’ve been in Gaul for one night and already they are liberators.

    Now they ready themselves for the march to the Port city of Rotomagnus.

    “They are still talking?” Batiatus asked as he emerged from his dwelling for the night. He was less than interested to meet the couple Vortigernious rescued. But young Claudius was thrilled to greet the survivors, and stayed up to converse with them the entire night.

    “Aye sir. I think they are about to leave.” Vortigernious replied as he buckled his red cress helmet.

    Batiatus followed his gaze to the palisade wall were his soldiers gathered. Next to the gate, young Claudius is still talking to the Roman couple.

    “Friends, surly you will not leave with such short notice.” Batiatus put on a fake smile as he and Vortigernious approached the three.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Quintus, come give me a hand,” greeted young Claudius, “I was just trying to convince dear Norbanus to stay with us. They are heading to Rotomagnus as well, we can travel together!”

    He turned to the husband, a bearded Roman intellectual, and continued: “The country is filled with bandits, join our party to be safe. By the Almighty God! You remind me how much I need the company of an educated man!”

    “Stay with us,” added Batiatus as he looked up and down the couple, “you won’t survive out there on your own.”

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Claudius smiled at Batiatus as he put his arm around Norbanus, and walked further away so they could have some privacy.

    “Forgive him,” Claudius whispered with a smile, “he’s a good man, but a man of the soldiery.”

    “Flavius Claudius Constans,” Began Norbanus, “you are a pious man, an honorable man. What your men did for my wife and I is something we can never repay.” He gave a quick look back at the legionaries and lowered his voice, “But what you are doing here, I can’t get mixed up in this.”

    “We are doing God’s work,” interrupted Claudius with a frown, “Britannia is here to help Gaul, to reclaim and rebuild. And your knowledge and influence in the community will be critical to the recovery!”

    Norbanus laughed bitterly as he turned and looked Claudius in the eye, “I respect you, so I will tell you straight. You won’t find a rebel in me.”

    “We will not be intimidated,” added Rosalind as she gripped onto Norbanus’s hand.


    His hand was icy cold, and her warmth gave him strength.




    “What are they whispering?” Batiatus turned to Vortigernious, hoping he would have the better ear.

    “I don’t know sir,” his aid replied, “the young master made sure his conversations are private.”

    “I don’t like this,” whispered Batiatus as he clenched his fist, “I’m not taking any chances with these two… If they refuse to join us, cut them down on my command.”


    In the land with no allies, his four dozen men are easy picking. He will not allow anyone to compromise their mission.




    “Then allow me to be frank,” Claudius returned Norbanus’s sharp gaze as he held eye contact, “If you walk, you won’t get far.”

    “Is that a threat?” Norbanus did not back down

    “That is a fact,” Claudius shot back, “the band we scattered last night is still out there, and chances are they want you back.”

    Rosalind tightened her grip around Norbanus’s hand, so tight he could feel her racing heartbeat.

    The young scholar’s gaze hardened even more as he continued to stare into Norbanus’s eyes: “Look at the men behind me. Look how proud they are.”

    “Indeed,” Norbanus agreed, “they fought like lions.”

    “These sons of Britannia are lions,” Claudius said firmly, “but they are mere cubs compared to Imperial veterans. Today my father calls himself Constantine, tomorrow he may believe he IS Constantine. Britannia is living in a dream of its past glory, and all have forgotten the many who failed to reinstate it.”

    The young monk paused as he looked up at the morning sky, “Decentius, Magnentius, Silvanus, Magnus Maximus…”

    Norbanus listened silently as the young man recounted the names of fallen Usurpers from Gaul and Britannia. Too many have longed for the dream of Constantine.

    Yet there had been only one Constantine.

    “If you walk, we will just find another man to collaborate” Claudius continued, he then stepped forward and leaned into Norbanus, so only he can hear him and whispered, “Arrogance is the downfall of men. Stay, and help contain the sins of my father. The Empire doesn’t need another Usurper. Come with me, and be my adviser…”

    Norbanus was shocked by his honesty, and for a second, he saw a vision of a man consumed by flames; it was the flames of Lucifer, the flam of seven deadly sins.

    All men are weak, especially ambitious men in the face of power. Norbanus knows how Gaul clamors for a leader to repeal the Barbarians. He knows how Romans need a man to stand up for the justice of the common citizen, to take revenge on the Imperial authority that abandoned them during the crisis.

    He knows when a man in golden helm by the name of Constantine steps onto the Shores of Normandy, tens of thousands will rise to support him, and they will cry for war.

    By then, who can guide that man from his sins? Who can be there to give sound advice?

    Certainly not the proud men clad in armor who surround him day and night. Not the man in fur hat standing over there, staring at him like he is some roadkill.

    Of all the places he could be, of all the men he could meet. He met the eldest son of that man in golden helm. He met the son of Constantine.

    Isn’t that the will of God? Is he not only just an instrument?

    All men are weak, especially ambitious men in the face of power.

    “Alright, I’ll come with you,” he finally let those words squeeze out his teeth. Norbanus let out a deep breath as he watched Claudius grin in satisfaction.

    “And you can tell your friend to lower his hand now, I am yours to command.” He added with a smile.

    Claudius looked back and saw Batiatus clenching his fist, ready to give the orders to cut down the couple. He immediately waved him down in embarrassment.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 



  2. #42

    Default Re: Fractured Eagle- updated 12/19

    I have alot of time to write lately, and a lot of time to think.

    Theodosius was the last Emperor to rule both East and West, and a big part about the Imperial storyline (Claudian, Placidia etc.) will be the continuation/end of his legacy.
    I provided a glimpse of the revered house of Theodosius through Placidia in chap 10(I), giving everyone a taste of how I would like to portray them, but yet I am very curious about what everyone have in mind.

    The poll is hidden and will end in four days. I wouldn't say it won't influence my writing, but largely I am just curious about everyone's attitude towards this historical house.

  3. #43
    Alwyn's Avatar Frothy Goodness
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    Default Re: Fractured Eagle- updated 12/22

    Claudius sounds like a level-headed man in these dangerous times, aware of the dangers surrounding people who try to claim the Imperial throne. I like his line about arrogance. The use of the banner with Christian imagery and the references to 'God's work' sounds right for this era. Your pictures are incredible, you seem to be able to put individual characters exactly where you want them (I'm guessing that some skilled modding is happening in the background, to produce the effects you want.)

    I have voted in your poll (I voted for the option which I feel would make the members of the House of Theodosius somewhat sympathetic, but also with human shortcomings and temptations.)

  4. #44

    Default Re: Fractured Eagle- updated 12/22

    Thanks Alwyn! I'm having a great time writing the interactions of various characters, and have been prepping for two upcoming battles! I am very excited because I haven't been able to write about war since Gratian's ambush some 5 chapters ago.

    I use a heavily customized modifications and tons of reskin materials, and It's be a pain to time the picture to make sure no one is crouching (damnyou stop hiding!). The trick of my pictures? I take them before I write XD. I normally have the concept of the chapter down before I take pictures, and I tweak my writing to fit the screenshots

  5. #45

    Default Re: Fractured Eagle- updated 12/22

    Hey, Loving the story. Can you update the story soon? Would love to read more between Norbanus and Rosalind.

  6. #46

    Default Re: Fractured Eagle- updated 12/22


    11. The Springtime of Our People

    The province of Illyria had long been disputed by the two Emperors of the Empire. Now, it is a warzone.

    Officially, the Empire is in peace. There had been no serious usurper since the Emperor Theodosius united the Roman Realm. Barbarians who roam free in Gaul and rebels in Britannia are dismissed as brigands and bandits, and are not worthy of a total mobilization.

    Illyria is no doubt a warzone. The same Gothic tribes who slayed the Emperor Valens some forty years ago now entrenched themselves in the countryside. They’ve established a realm of loosely coordinated chieftains, referring to themselves as the Visi. Goths are good farmers, more than that, they are a tenacious people. They took abandoned towns and desolated land and made them their home. And with their backs against the Danube they secured themselves a strip of land between the Emperors. As generations went by the glory of the Empire absorbed them. Goths adopted Roman customs; many become trilingual in Goth, Latin, and Greek.

    After Theodosius died, Arcadius succeeded his father in the east and the adolescent Honorius took the west.

    Both Emperors choose to demonstrate their strength by pushing out the Visi. Legion bearing the banner of both emperors arrived and set camp in Illyria to push out the squatters.

    That was five years ago. Now, due to the internal intrigue of the Roman Realm, camps turned into forts, and armies into garrisons. Both sides are confounded. What do you do to a highly Romanized, Christian, barbarian populace who readily participate in Roman society, and eager to pay taxes to maintain their status as residence within the Empire? Both Emperor turned the “Visigoth question” into their excuse to militarize the region, often employing Visigoths into their service as proxies, often to wage war against each other.

    The extent which Visigoths adopted Roman customs made them a valuable subject of both Rome and Constantinople, in a bid to secure their loyalty, the Eastern Emperor granted amnesty for their crimes against the Empire and made many prominent Visigoths Imperial Citizens.

    Alaric is the most prominent of the Visigoths. Veteran of the late Emperor Theodosius and now employed by the Eastern Emperor, his was raised to the duty of Marshal of Illyria, with orders to Guard the Danube in the name of Constantinople. In return, his warriors received training and equipment from the East. Alaric’s personal force is nicknamed “The Gothic Legion,” due to it being trained and equipped as a Roman unit complete with artillery pieces.

    Little did the Eastern Emperor know the “Grants of Arcadius” sowed the seed for the Empire’s destabilization; the west did not consent to the amnesty, instead choosing to follow the traditional Theodosian doctrine of gradual assimilation. A set number of individuals are granted citizenship each year, on an individual bases. The west does so to ensure that emigrants come in as families without tribal networks, so they are easier assimilated by the Roman population.

    Thus Honorius and his court continue adopt a hostile stance against the Visigoths, who they view as illegal migrants, and refuse to recognize many citizenship granted by Constantinople. This gave Alaric the excuse he needed to invade Italy: to promote the equality and integrity of citizenship and facilitate the exercise of Roman rights by Visigoths with citizenship.

    Alaric’s campaign is followed by the escalation of hostility between the Emperors, and the West is currently taking the most beating; a dialogue needs to be opened between the two imperial courts, and who else better to be Rome’s ambassador than the Imperial Princess, sister of the Emperors, most noble lady of the Empire, her Imperial highness Aelia Galla Placidia.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Thus with a heavy heart, Placidia and her retainers stepped off their vessel, she could not dismiss the excitement aroused within her brought by the sight of horses and rugged men. It reminded her of her father Theodosius, and the campaigns she accompanied him across the Empire.

    She could’ve taken the safer sea rout straight to Constantinople, but time is at the essence.

    Her eyes warmed as she saw the liveliness of the Colonia: traders, venders shouting at the port; sailors unloading their cargo.

    And the children, the lively children playing innocently in the sun, knowing full well that the world they live in is one of mercy and kindness.

    Placidia stood for a moment to appreciate the knowledge that each soul in the port town is not only bound together by the codes engrained in the laws of Rome, but also the laws edged in the Ten Commandments, which now stood beside those of Rome. The Laws of God united with the codes of the Emperor.

    Thou should not Lie, Thou should not steal. With these oaths the Empire was bound together in unity of spirit and consciousness.

    All the works of her father, all the Legacy of House Theodosius

    “Pax Romania,” she whispered to herself.

    “My lady, look at that handsome man,” one of her hand maidens whispered to her as an officer approached them. The young man wore a layer of fur on top of his chain mail, adding a taste of frontier savagery his soldiery charms.

    “I sure hope HE is our escort.” Another maiden giggled

    “Please, girls,” Placidia couldn’t help but smile as the officer walked closer and closer, “don’t embarrass me in public.”

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 



    “Tribunus Flavius Constantius,” the young officer greeted the party with tone of seriousness only heard in the front lines, “at your service.”

    “Thank you tribunus, but I do not need such a large escort.” Placida frowned as a large body of troops begin to assemble behind Constantius, she smiled as she looked back to her elite bodyguards, “as you can see, I am well protected.”
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 



    “Your highness,” begin Constantius, “this is a usual patrol strength; the Goths are known to ambush Roman convoys for chainmail and weapons. This is for the protection of you and your companions.”

    The Princess’s household guards chuckled in laughter.

    “We’ll see who’s protecting who, laddie.” One of them taunted. Indeed, Placidia is not the only one excited by the scent of war.

    The Princess smiled politely as she waited for the men to duke out their ego and continued, “You are worrying too much, tribunus. Gothic warbands are all in Italy with Alaric, the presence of your men will only slow us down and make us a bigger target.”

    “Your highness,” Constantius replied with a smile, “all Goths are warriors, and I care more, that the armaments of your guards do not end up in the hands of Barbarians.”

    Placidia’s bodyguards sneered in protest, but the princess raised her hand to stop their protest.

    “Alright, tribunus,” the princess smiled as she begin to find herself charmed by the language of this young officer, “but I want no questions asked.”

    “Consider it done,” smiled Constantius in relief, “my First officer and I will make sure to deliver you and your companions unscathed to your destination. Where ever that might be.”

    “Wouldn’t we Leuthar?” He shouted to a bearded Germanic standing by the amassing patrol.

    The German pulled out the axe tied to his waist, and raised it high to show the Princess.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “With this,” The Germanic laughed in extremely crude Latin, “I SLAUGHTER Goths with this.”

    “Oh I am sure you do,” smiled Placidia awkwardly in return. She never really knew how to interact with Germans, they just seem…so different.

    “I will now prep the men,” Constantius saluted and turned back to his soldiers.

    He walked back to his men and looked back, making sure Placidia was not paying attention he whispered to Leuthar, “What the hell are you doing? Speak proper to the Princess.”

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Flavius my friend” Leuthar smiled, “I served the Empire long enough to know Romans like their Germans: simple and brutish.”

    His Latin was perfect.







    “How do you think he’s doing?” Batiatus whispered nervously as he watched young Claudius Constans from a distance. Norbanus stood beside him silently, in deep thoughts.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    None of them expected the Port City of Rotomagus to stand this strong.

    None of them expected such a strong Imperial presence amongst deserted settlements.

    They are waiting for Constans and the Prefect of the city, a man by the name of Atticus to conduct negotiations.

    “He’s doing fine,” muttered Norbanus as he wiped the sweat gathering on his forehead, “We’ve gone through every possible scenario in our practice.”

    Batiatus looked to him, he’s never been so nervous in his life. Never had his fate been determined solely on the performance of others. Deep inside he must admit he’s glad Norbanus came along, this classically educated man have proved to be more than useful.



    A few dozen yards in front of them, Constans wiped off the sweat from his palm discreetly.

    “It seems a habit that Gaul greets its guests with swords drawn,” he joked at the garrison troops standing by as he tried to look calm.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Guests, no,” the Prefect of the City, Atticus sneered; “but rebels and traitors, yes.”

    Constans let out a laugh to hide his nervousness. He had expected the perfect to be an exhausted magistrate who would welcome the Britannic troops with open arms. Instead, he was greeted by a sharp confident commander with tall walls and a strong garrison.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “If I may indulge,” the young man kept his smile, “How does Rotomagus stand tall amongst desolation?”

    “Desolation, No.” Atticus replied as he looked up and down the young man, “The country is quite lively of Barbarians, fresh across the Rhine.”

    “My man and I came across such warbands,” Constans agreed, “warriors and slavers, some forty strong.”

    “I’m not talking about the corpse pickers,” Atticus smirked, “There are entire tribes out there; women and children camped in the hills. Their presences ensure every barbarian we encounter fights as if we are the invaders. Tell me what the Marshal of Britannia plans to do about that.”

    “So you don’t question my identity, we are not wasting time on my legitimacy?” Constans asked with a raised brow.

    “Yes, and no,” Atticus said as he looked away, as if it pains him to squeeze out these words, “troubled times give troubled thoughts, if the marshal plans to act as what he claims to be, it’s good enough for me.”

    “We are on the same page then,” concluded Constans, “I will inform the Legions to cross the channel. We shall clear the countryside immediately.”

    What are of these legions,” Atticus turned back with a cynical eye, “Who are of these legions?”

    “You gave me a guide of the country side and you expect me to spill the order of battle?” laughed Constans sarcastically. He’s gained the ear of the Prefect, and now he will press his advantage.

    “A trade then, your order of battle for mine,” Atticus sneered, “the last ones I got when they evacuated the city.”

    “Those orders are four months old,” Constans is skeptical of its value.

    “It is knowledge of information,” Atticus cut him off coldly, “the last positions and movements of Gallic and Germanic Legions, precisely defined orders. How many people do you think are left with that?”
    Constans narrowed his eyes as he and the Prefect looked up and down one another, reevaluating each other after their exchange.

    “3 legions camped cross the channel,” began Constans, “they are my father’s vanguard.”

    “Didn’t that Gratian kill Dumarius? What happened to him?” asked Atticus

    “My father killed him, he was a usurper,” Constans reasoned frankly, “And that Dumarius, Marcus Dumarius was the source of all treason. We have since regained ourselves and eagerly anticipate for the return of Imperial Jurisdiction.”

    “Eagerly anticipate for the return of Imperial Jurisdiction,” repeated Atticus half mockingly, “with three legions as vanguard of course.”

    “From here to Ravenna, there’s still a long way to go.” Constans looked away as coolly debunked the Prefect's fiery accusation.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    There was a long pause as Atticus looked into Constans. Long way to go, a lot of things can happen.

    “You are being vague.” Atticus called him out.

    “I am being cautious, for the judgment of men can only be predicted by god.” Constans defended, “and I assure you, my father only wants the stabilization of Imperial boarders, with Britannia included.”

    “Such a well-rehearsed answer,” Atticus looked unconvinced, or perhaps he had made up his mind all along, “a lot of titles, all empty titles. Your father, Dux and Magister Militum per Britannia, both titles are empty lies. They were not given, they were not chosen; they were taken to describe his sphere of power! And that is the power of a dictator.”

    The Prefect choose his words wisely, avoiding accusing Constantine of usurpation. Ally or enemy, usurpation was the fine line.

    “They are responsibilities taken! Duties filled just as the shepherd must guide the sheep.” Constans reputed passionately, “Water fills earth’s cavity, so there could be life. We need to fill the authority the Empire abandoned, so there can be civilization.”

    Atticus took a moment to digest the meaning as he looked out to the ocean. As the young Monk puts it, this Constantine of Britannia wants to be the “shepherd” of Civilization. Will this shepherd be in service of the Emperor? How can he himself help the shepherd find his master? Atticus raised a brow as he begins to plot silently.

    Constans let out his breath as he let his passions settle. The young man walked up next to Atticus, and turned to face the sea.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Atticus sighed

    “Of course it is.” Constans replied as he took a deep breath, soaking the salty sea air into his nostrils.

    “There were many of nights when it first began,” Atticus whispered as the two looked into the sea mist searching for the British shore, “that I stood here, hoping ships would come for us.”

    “We were busy dealing with our own problems,” Constans laughed half-jokingly. But the Perfect remained silent, still looking into the ocean, as if searching for all the purity he had lost.

    Constans felt silent looking at Atticus who’s staring far off into the ocean; both men were in deep thought.

    “There was a story I liked when I was in the monastery.” Constans begin quietly to break the silence, “There was a gifted monk, skilled in art. He made magnificent copies of the holy book with wondrous illustrations…”
    From the corner of his eye, Constans saw the Perfect raised his brow in interest, and continued on with much more confidence.

    “The bishop, his mentor, suggested he should spend some time in solitude, so he can be closer to God and himself. So for twenty days the monk locked himself with his work. At the end of the twentieth day, he emerged with the most magnificent bible, illustrated by images only worthy for the sacred eyes of the Emperor.”

    “Britons,” the Prefect insulted as he looked away, “you think too highly of yourselves.”

    “It doesn’t end there,” the young man smiled as he continued, “the monk ripped up the pages in front of the bishop, who naturally was enraged by the act. ‘Why would you?’ the bishop shouted in anger. ‘I destroyed my art’ the monk replied, ‘because I learned to not lose what’s big because of something small.’ The monk lost his work, but he kept his temperament. At least that’s what the abbot told us.”

    The Prefect was left in silence as he tried to comprehend the words of the young man.

    “There are many layers of that story, many lessons. But lately, it reminds me that we are the only witness to ourselves. Whatever we have to do, whatever we have done, no onlooker can understand our justification.” Constans finally concluded.

    “Aren’t you a little bit young to speak in riddles?” Atticus smiled at the conclusion of the story. He felt appreciation for the presence of this young man, whose eyes are so old.

    Needless to say he is deeply impressed by the temperance of the young monk; Constans’s hesitance in speech reveals his intensity of thoughts, where the Prefect saw bricks and clay, the monk saw the Glory of Rome.

    Is it a sacrifice to become the shepherd? Atticus thought to himself as he looked at the young man, because if so Constans must be one of the shepherds. A man like Constans belongs to the temples, where he could pen the laws to guide humanity in peace. Instead, he is at the killing fields guiding him.

    Guiding him to the man he needs to guide to the Emperor.

    Yes, it is so clear now

    “Imperator!” his thoughts were interrupted as a man ran through the garden; “we have company, you need to come to the walls.”
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Raise earth to hold flood, raise swords to stop men.” The Perfect sneered as he led the way, “there’s nothing to fear.”

    Constans followed along, and signaled Batiatus to accompany him and Atticus. If there is a battle, his expertise will be needed.

    “Most of the City was evacuated as soon as we knew the Rhine was breached,” the Perfect explained as they walked down the open roads of Rotomagus where defenders gathered to ready themselves, “this freed up much grain for the Garrison to hold out this long. So far, the Barbarians that passed through were all migrators; they left us at peace as soon as they saw our walls.”

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Warbands will come sooner or later,” Batiatus derived, “The first wave that overran the Rhine were hardened warriors from various tribes; they'll be going after standing armies to clear the path; after them come tribes and warriors deeper and deeper from Germania.”

    “We know the pattern,” Atticus replied as they walked up the tower, “but what we don’t know is why they are fleeing west in such large numbers, the few Germanics we captured claimed…oh, by the all mighty God.”

    Atticus was stunned by the sight.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Beyond the wall, an endless mass of Germanic warriors gathered.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    For a few minutes there was nothing but silence.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    There wasn’t even the sound of breath from the soldiers around them.

    Everyone watched nervously as a cluster of cavalry rode forth from the mass of Germans.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “WHO GOES THERE!” the Perfect shouted, the volume of his voice hid the shake in his words.

    “I am Harric, Chief of the Lugii, Mercii, Horraii…and as you can see, quite a few other tribes I’ve acquired” a strong voice shouted back. The Germans around him, at least the ones who understand Latin, burst in laughter.

    “We’ve heard, that Alaric the Goth have marched into Italy, and is at the gates of Ravenna! We are now on our way there, to offer our service as foederati to his Imperial Majesty!” Harric continued with a wide grin. His address, especially when he mentioned the Emperor, was filled with sarcasm.

    The riders around them raised their spears to encourage the mass of warriors, and this time, their cheers shook the earth.

    Constans swallowed his fear as he looked to Atticus and whispered, “Don’t lose what’s big because of something small.”

    If Rotomagus is big, then what is small? Pride, Loyalty, the oaths he sworn to God and the Emperor? Atticus didn’t know which Constans meant. Or perhaps he was talking about the symbol Rotomagus stand for, the last beacon of Roman authority in miles to come.

    Rotomagus is Atticus’s duty, and here is a young man from Britannia who is willing to die for it: for the beacon of Rome.

    Little did Constans know, in this cynical Prefect he gained a believer.

    Before Atticus could reply, Harric pointed his swords towards them and interrupted: “Quit muttering amongst you! Our service comes with a price and my warriors come with empty stomachs! Open your granaries now. Or we will breach your walls, and exterminate every last one of you!”

    He turned back to his army and shouted something in foreign tongue, and all of a sudden the Germans exploded. They began bashing their shields, screaming wildly in profanity as they taunted the defenders.
    Blood drained from Atticus’s face as he felt the walls tremble beneath him.

    “Prepare a messenger bird,” the perfect finally ordered after gathering himself, “Give the signal. Send across the Legions.”

  7. #47
    Alwyn's Avatar Frothy Goodness
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    Default Re: Fractured Eagle- 2/21 reuploaded update with extra content

    It's great to see the return of writing which was lost when the forum was rolled back, with additional material. This is very enjoyable writing (I especially like Leuthar). The pictures are amazing, the mass of Germanic warriors is intimidating indeed. I wonder if the Legions can arrive in time - it looks like the army of Harric are about to attack.

  8. #48

    Default Re: Fractured Eagle- 2/21 reuploaded update with extra content



    Chapter 12. Benedic Domine


    The City of Mediolanum, capital of the Western Empire was much grander than Ferik ever imagined. It was nothing like the Greek cities he sacked or the Illyrian metropolis his brother in law governed. Some say even the Eternal City pales in its glory.

    He held that thought as the guards stripped off his prisoner rags, revealing his broad chest and tattooed body.

    With the signal from a courtier, they marched him up the city’s marble steps to where the emperor is holding court.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 



    “The Comitetensis of Gaul, Italia, and Africa presents to your Imperial Majesty: Ferik the Goth! Son of Aelinger, husband of Lottiga, and thus by law, brother of the black wolf Alaric!” the crier shouted as the Goth was brought up to the platform, where he came face to face to a bald man he recognized as Stilicho, and a young crowned man who is presumed to be the Emperor Honorius.

    The young emperor was powerfully built, mirroring the physics of his father. Ferik was surprised to find the boy Alaric dismissed as feeble stood even taller than him.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Honorius looked up and down him and the emperor walked right up to the Prisoner.

    “This is what troubles my realm,” he heard the young Emperor remark, “I can smell his stench…”

    “Take him away,” Stilicho ordered. And the Guards dragged him off.

    “Twenty thousand Goths, six engagements and Stilicho takes all the Glory. The Barbarians march to our gates and what does he do? He chains us with commands so he and his half-breed dogs can dominate the center stage.” Olympius, marshal of the Escort Army muttered in discontent.

    “The end justifies the means. Italia is safe, we have prevailed.” Claudian, Honorius’s court poet replied.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “I never knew you were quite the pragmatist,” Olympius raised a brow as he continued in sarcasm, “when we closest to the Emperor are marginalized, when the Emperor abandons what makes us roman and follow the ways of savage. Tell me then if we prevailed.”

    Claudian was not offended. For me knows that there are none other in court more loyal to the interest of the Emperor, than Olympius, his Majesty’s companion since childhood.

    “Your imperial majesty, it is the sign from God that this Barbarian should be captured in battle by one of its own kind.” Stilicho’s voice drew their attention back to the Emperor.

    “To shed blood and sweat for this Empire is an honor that I long to fulfil. If a Goth did so, then he is no less Roman than you and I… Present him to me.” The young Emperor replied and with a nod, and a giant warrior was brought up to the stairs.

    “I give you, sacred Emperor: Sarus, tribunus of Legio VI Victrix, hero of Aquila!” The Vandal Marshal announced as the giant figure clad in mail and scale approached.

    “There is no need for formalities; it is I who should bow to you.” The Emperor stepped forth and gripped the man by the arm as he prevented the Goth to kneel into a salute.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Honorius marveled at the stature of the Soldier and muttered as he patted the warrior’s back: “A true Champion.”

    “There is no tied we cannot overcome, for that God is with us.” he then turned to his courtiers standing around him and loudly proclaimed, “It has now come so clear to me, that the campaigns against Alaric and his followers are one that transcends the bond of blood, beyond the ties of kin!”

    “Another of Stilicho’s pawns gets closer to the Emperor. I should’ve made love to a sick goat this morning,” Olympius spat coldly under his breath, “I rather be immobilized in bed than see savage claim grace with the crown.”

    Claudian coughed to hide his chuckle. In the background, the Emperor continued his speech:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Let it be known now to all, we will vanquish all who wish to tear our world apart; whether they hide themselves in the shadows of heresy or false cause. God will bring them to light, and we will give them their judgement! In this holy war we must embrace all faithful, for Christendom is a kingdom that transients the boundary of men!”

    And with that conclusion he raised his arm. The guards standing under the alter heeded his signal and slit open Ferik's throat.

    The large Goth gagged as he is reduced to his knees, watching his life flow down his chest.

    “We just opened our bottoms wide for Barbarians,” Olympius said in discontent, he then leaned to Claudian and whispered, “come to my place after, there will be a gathering of loyal men.”

    With that, Olympius left, leaving Claudian alone with a dark mood.

    Claudian made a promise to the Princess, and now he realized he was in no position to make such promise.





    Through the mist, a line of shields approached the walls of Rotomagus; the Barbarians are ready to attack. Last night The Germanic host camped outside the city walls, splitting wood for ladders while their Roman counterparts prayed for the guidance of God. The spirit of the garrison was lifted by the arrival of British Reinforcements. A force of few hundred landed over the night. While it’s not much, their presence reminded the Romans of Rotomagus that they are not alone in this fight.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Fasten your pace you useless buggers!” A plain clothed officer shouted to his crossbowmen scrambling to their positions, “Isn’t this what you’ve been waiting for??!!”
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Have I missed anything?” a fully armored Constans rushed to the wall accompanied by his advisor Norbanus. Batiatus and Vortigernious have already taken position.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    They are joined by young Authorius Pansa, commander of the Britannic Reinforcements whom landed over the night. Authorius’s father, the elder Pansa had been appointed by Constantine as the Marshal of the Vanguard Legions. He has three legions camp at the other side of the channel ready to be deployed in the next few days.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Constans and Rotomagus’s Prefect Atticus were briefed last night by Authorius. Elder Pansa was reluctant to send too much troops across because he wants to conceal the element of surprise, and sending large convoys will risk being discovered. So with small shipments of men he can trick the Barbarians into continues attacks on Rotomagus. Killing them here will be easier than chasing them down in the forests. Authorius’s presence assures both Constans and Atticus that Pansa will not let the situation become too dire.

    But between Batiatus and the Elder Pansa, they want to send as little Britannic troops as possible so Atticus’s Garrison troops can be grind down, removing Atticus as a potential threat.

    “They are just getting started,” Batiatus replied as he narrowed his eyes to focus on the enemy beyond the mist.

    “I count four ladders and one ram, at least two thousand infantry.” Vortigernious whispered as the Barbarians chanted in the distance.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “They come soo eager to taste Roman steel,” Authorius commented on the siege engines of the Germanic host with a tone of distain.

    “We are only seeing a portion of it.” Explained Batiatus, “with equipment’s so simplistic, the barbarians must’ve created many of them to maximize their numerical advantage.”

    He couldn’t help but smirk. Attacking roman walls with only ladders, whether it was an act of desperation or a sign of primitiveness, it makes him laugh.

    He looked on to the distance, scanning beyond the lines he saw brightly dressed Germanic chieftains dismount to fight among the warbands. Unlike Romans, Germans are known to lead from the front, and their chiefs famed for valor.

    Besides Batiatus, the three young soldiers stood in silence, captivated by the movements of their enemy.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Suddenly, the Barbarians burst into a prolong cheer. The attack has been commenced

    “The barbarians only arrived yesterday, and now they decide to attack after a night of fatigue construction?” Batiatus had almost forgotten about Norbanus, who had remained silent. He can’t blame him. Norbanus isn’t a soldier; he isn’t the son of a Marshal. His status as a conscripted guide had forced him to conceal his tongue.

    But nerveless, Norbanus is an educated man, a keen man. When he speaks Batiatus listen.

    “Commander, why do you think they are in such a rush to attack a Fortified Municipium, one with Roman arm?” Norbanus asked Batiatus, who’s grinning at the thought of victory.

    “They want the granaries,” Batiatus replied without hesitation, “a host this large travel with families, they have too many mouths to feed.”

    “Food is not an issue. Great Gaul is home to over ten million, an inch of our soil equates to a feet of what’s east of the Rhine. The Barbarians looted all the way from Germania. They’re stomach is aching with roman wheat.” disagreed Norbanus.

    The replied poured down his head like a bucket of cold water as Batiatus realized he committed a fatal tactical error. His over-confidence has caused him to prejudge his enemy. What a naïve image he had: starving barbarians smashing their heads into a spear wall. No, this is a well fed German host here to make a name for themselves.

    “What we are facing is not a war party or a single tribe. It’s a confederation made of chiefs each with their own people. There’s probably dozens of confederations now in the Empire,” Explained Norbanus to Constans,” Whichever confederation take Rotomagus will be supreme over the rest.”

    “Our cities are the Jewels on their crown,” Muttered Constans in amazement. The young man is rife with rhetoric, a testament to the elite but impractical education he received at the Bishopric. But he was a quick learner, and through him, others learned.

    “Young liege you need to get off the wall, the Barbarians are going to come at us in waves, each wave at a different wall section. I can’t afford the son of our Marshal catching an arrow.” Batiatus hurried Constans as he deducted the enemy’s plan. He doesn’t normally call Constans young liege, but with Authorius here, it is for the sake of formality.

    “I will not coward like a kenneled dog.” Constans replied in determination. But Batiatus was insistent, “This is where lesser men die. If you want to help, organize men behind the lines and sent them to the walls as reinforcement. Go take position in a tower, and provide an over watch.”

    “Consider it done,” Constans shouted in excitement and left with Norbanus behind him.

    With him gone, Batiatus turned his attention to Authorius. Great, he thought to himself. Another aristocratic brat, just what he needs.

    “We should change position into one of the towers; the wall will soon be a dead zone.” Batiatus made no attempt to smoothen the fakeness in his smile as he tries to clear the obstacles in his command.

    Authorius is young, but he is not sheltered like Constans. And he will not be locked up in a tower as his command is taken away from him.

    “Commander, let me ride out and take their ladders!” the young man thirsted for glory, and rebottled the old fox with aggression.

    Batiatus eyes narrowed at the suggestion. If Authorius can delay the enemies advance, the walls can provide a sustained projectile support to inflict huge casualties on the enemy.

    “Barbarians are many,” Batiatus said as he shook his head, “if your formation breaks I will have no choice to throw open the gates. Barbarians will stream into the city with our routing men.”

    “If we allow them to get to the wall, we will be forfeiting our advantage.” Authorius reminded, “These savages have no tactic but to charge. We can hold them as if Thermopylae, with advantages of both Persian and Greek.”

    Batiatus was silent, weighting the consequence.

    “I am willing to take a military oath!” The young soldier pressed.

    “There’s no joke among ranks,” Batiatus looked hard into the Authorius’s eyes searching for weakness.

    “If I fail, I will have my subordinates take my head to see you.”

    The Fling of Catapults interrupted their conversation. And at once, the Romans burst into cheers, praising the Almighty God at the sight of the trails of their flaming projectiles.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Moral is a strange thing, it flows from men to men and brings even the most solitude to their influence.

    “Do it,” Batiatus said in determination, no doubt infected by the high moral of the soldiery.









    Placidia fondled with silver cross in her hand silently as her carriage progressed slowly through the crooked road. The stone tiles had been stripped from their grove by Goths to build their manors and castle towns. To Roman authority they are like pests in the wheat fields, a plague of the countryside.

    Suddenly, the carriage came to an abrupt a halt. Placidia can see the shadows of her escorts running by the carriage and the sound of shields interlocking.

    She took a deep breath and unscrewed the bottom of the cross, revealing a sharp razer hidden within. Placidia begin to tremble as she toyed with the idea of killing herself. But she couldn’t even hold the knife up to her chest. Her arm and body repealed each other like magnets stones she had played as a child.

    “In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti…” one of her maids begin to pray in terror.

    “Kill me when they breach the carriage, and kill yourselves.” Placidia frowned in annoyance and handed the cross-dagger to the praying maid, “or it will be us that are breached.”

    Her frankness terrified the maid who begin to weep.

    There was a light knock on the carriage door.

    “Your highness, we are safe.” It was Constantius

    “Then why have we stopped?”

    “Refugees are clogging the road, my Princess. The Gepids have crossed the Danube.”
    Last edited by baozi; March 22, 2016 at 08:14 AM.

  9. #49

    Default Re: Fractured Eagle-Updated 3/21

    Good to see you're back with another great update, baozi!

    I really liked the little staredown between Ferik and Honorius in the beginning
    Also, I think it's great how you seem to emphasize the relationships between the Romans and the "Barbarian" tribes and how they impact each other.

    You should certanly enter the current MAARCompetition with this one!
    Chronicles of Cimmeria - A Kimmerios Bosporos AAR (EB2)
    The Age of Peace - A TW: Warhammer Empire AAR
    Blood Red Eagle - The Sons of Lodbrok Invasion of Northumbrialand [complete]
    Machines - A Sci-Fi Short Story [complete]

  10. #50

    Default Re: Fractured Eagle-Updated 3/21

    Thank you for the kind words Zeion! It's been a while. And yes, I will defiantly look into MAAR.

    Also, if it doesn't trouble you, would you be so kind and look into removing the poll I have in the thread? It seems I don't have the clearance to do so

    Many thanks!

  11. #51
    Alwyn's Avatar Frothy Goodness
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    Default Re: Fractured Eagle-Updated 3/21

    Great chapter, baozi! (I asked a kind Hex to remove the poll - local moderators cannot do that). I like the way that you build up the tension as the attack on the city approaches, and the way that the descriptions match what we see in the images, including details such as the plain-clothes officer shouting to his men. Good luck in the MAARC!

  12. #52

    Default Re: Fractured Eagle-Updated 3/21





    13. Blood of the Empire


    With a roar of the men, Harric took one last look at the Roman fortified walls. He sighed as he gave up this position, for his culture demands him to fight amongst his warriors.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    But first he must settle Dornic. A Romanized German commander who is perishes symbol of local cooperation. The Romanized warrior has a neatly maintained goatee, and waxes it to keep its shape, his head shaven to gives an aggressive presence.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Romans are sallying forth; my men will hurry on with our engines and obstruct the path of their arrows and drive them into their formation! We will crush those testudoes.” Harric explained confidently to Dornic his strategy.

    His Latin was fair. But now and then he chocks on a word and turn his eye at the sky as he moved his lips silently, as if praying; actually he was running through the vocabularies for the right ending.

    “Thank you, Great chief, for understanding that we do not wish to make war with the Romans,” Dornic said as he gave a half bow, “Aside from attacking the Garrison, me and my men will carry your orders to our fullest!”

    Harric fastened his pace so Dornic wouldn’t see the darkness clouding his face, and the anger in his eyes. It sickens him how little the Romanized are willing to contribute.
    But he held that thought, he will deal with them when the time is right.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Take your men and camp them outside their side gate. You won’t be attacking but your presence will pressure the enemy.” Harric ordered. And the Romanized obeyed.






    “Form testudo and defend!”

    The orders are shouted down the columns as cohorts filed their ranks. The Romans outside the gate stretched a shield wall before the advancing barbarians.

    Authorius and his bodyguards mounted against the wall, with swordsmen at the ready. The riders around him are some of the best horsemen in Southern Britannia, all of them equestrians of Camulodunum; the petty conflicts between Roman warlords in Britannia had made them seasoned cavalrymen and experienced warriors. And just like their commander, they thirst for glory.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 



    A flaming projectile was launched right above Authorius.

    Batiatus, who stood by the catapult, felt the change in the elements.

    “Given them a volley,” he ordered coldly.

    “GIVEN THEM A VOLLEY!” Vertigernius shouted as the men let loose their arrows.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    The projectiles set clusters of men on fire.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    The munitions were mixed with tar, which sticks to their engulfed victims and seals their fate no matter how hard they try.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    The victims are in so much misery that they break rank and charge and the romans, hoping to catch an arrow and end their suffering.

    But the rest of the Barbarians stood firm in this heat, and pushed forward. Just as Harric predicted, the ladders they used proved to be good cover, soaking up much of the oncoming arrows. Behind them trailed a mass of armed warriors. Ready to attack once they push through the Roman shield wall.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Hold them back!” Shouted Roman Centurions as the Barbarians came closer and closer. The Front line of Spears braised themselves and they received head on the wrath of Germania.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 



    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    And almost in an instant, the engines pushed past the spears, and pierced the Roman formation.


    “Shoot their sides! Shoo their sides! ” Batiatus watched helplessly from the walls as a disaster begin to unfold before him.

    “Riders to me!” Authorius shouted as he swung his horse around in a circle, demonstrating his masterful control.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    A centurion saw his signal and whistled twice sharply with the instrument tied around his neck, commanding his section of the shield wall to open. It was a maneuver that can only be done by a Roman trained army.

    The Cavalry charged out with Authorius at the front. Germans pushing the ladders were caught completely off guard by this sudden maneuver. Authorius crushed into them and ran his blade into one of their neck.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    He only stopped when he sent another half a dozen Germans to the ground.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Uggggahhhh!” A topless Barbarian shouted as he went for Authorius with a spear.

    Authorius parried the trust with a wide swing, and sank the blade in the Germans skull on the return.

    “The Ram is piercing our formation!” shouts from his companions drew Authorius’s attention to the battling ram.

    The weight of that engine crushed through two rows of spearmen in armor, and a wave of Barbarians are going to flood in.

    “Back! Back! Withdraw!” The young commander shouted to his riders as he swung his horse toward the Ram, cutting down a German warrior who dared to approach him in the process.

    It is never good to stand out in the battlefield, Authorius is about to learn his lesson.

    “Javelins!”
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    His horse was shot dead between his legs, suddenly Authorius found himself on his back with his shield on his stomach.

    On the battlefield, a downed cavalry man is always a prize.

    With that in mind, the Germans around him closed in. Those Barbarians in in there rags swarmed around like vultures in the sky, smelling blood and bounty.

    The young equestrian shouted as pushed off the iron striking his shield. One off his attackers then stepped on his shield with him beneath, taking the breath out of his lungs. But the Roman slided his shield beneath the Barbarian and brought the beast man down to the ground with him.

    The Ram is now only fifty feet from the gate

    Officers whistled as Batiatus sent out the last reinforcements, and drew closed the Gate.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Romans on the wall now watched helplessly as their formation outside begins to disintegrate. The flanks held on, but the front is shattered.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Legionary Titus Corneaus threw himself in front of the Battling Ram with another few soldiers. Their feet sank into the earth as they the Ram overpowered them, and crushing them beneath its wheels.

    Blood poured out his mouth as Titus struggled to breath over his chain mail and broken ribs. He coughed as Barbarians behind the Ram stepped over and on top of him, until one shoved a blade through his neck.

    Through the center point, Barbarians flooded into the hollow square, and begin to fan out to attack the rest of the line. Romans trapped in the center are forced into tight pockets of resistance, desperately trying to regain their front line.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Authorius is now back on his feet, and swung wildly to keep the barbarians at bay.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    One man was caught out and with a shout, Authorius jabbed his blade into the German’s mouth. Warm blood splashed upon his face as he kicked the corpse of his blade. His shield was immediately raised again, for the Germans threw themselves on him.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Authorius traded blows with the Germans around him, and almost collapsed to his knees when he felt the edge of a sword beating his back against the chain mail. But he leaned forward with the momentum and crashed into the enemy in front of him, taking the man’s head in the process.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    As blood squirt out of its severed neck, the lifeless corpse collapsed.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Authorius felt worm blood run down his back, soaking his tunic in place of cooling sweat. Now, he could pause and rest, for In the eyes of his enemies he saw fear.

    Romani!” a shout rose through the clashing of steel. Authorius turned and met the eyes of his challenger, a figure in bright color.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    It is never good to stand out in the battlefield, unless you are confident to strike down everything coming your way. The German noble banged his shield and sword across his head and begin to charge over with over a dozen well-armed companions.

    A whistled screeched, and at the same beat, British Legionaries rushed to Authorius’s side and locked their shields in front of their commander.

    The equestrian raised his sword into the sky, and paused it in the air to catch his breath.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Forward!” he shouted as he slashed down his sword and gave the order. He feel the fatigue setting before him, his shield seems heavier and heavier. His chainmail is now unbearable.

    But he slugged on with his men.

    German warriors charged at his petty shield wall, slamming the shields with the momentum of their bodies.

    The German noble crashed through the wall with a few of his men. His grey eyes locked dead onto the tired equestrian, like a wolf zooming in on its prey.

    “Pax Romana!”

    As if synchronized by the divine, a dozen Romans threw themselves between the German Chieftain and his Bodyguards, forcing them back at the expense of their own lives.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Two Legionaries forced the chieftain away from his guards at sword point while their comrades forced back the Germans trying to flood into the formation.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    That was his chance, Authorius moved in on the beast of a man as he swung to keep the Romans back.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    With a jab, the chieftain exposed himself; Authorius closed in, and thrusted his blade next to the Barbarian’s neck.

    “It’s over!” he shouted at the Chieftain at his mercy, “Das Ende!”
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Without waiting for the barbarian noble to respond, he kicked the man’s sword out of his hand.

    Another roman forced the noble on his knees and yanked off his helmet, handing it to his commander.

    Authorius paced it at the tip of his sword and raised it for the Germans to see, “Victory! Victory!”

    His men fought harder under the promise of victory, without their nobles to lead them the Germans begin to fall back.

    Barbarians within the formations suddenly realized they are boxed in, and abandoned the battering ram as they ran out from the ever shrinking opening.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    The Romans in the center were too battered to give chase, but they formed another line behind the main line and begin to clear out stragglers.

    Soon the lines stabilized. All the ladders and engines were captured; further attack against the Roman shield formation is now pointless.






    Dornic watched at a distance as the horn of retreat sounded through the air. He sneered at the sight of retreating barbarians and turned his horse around to face his men.

    “We’ll take Harric’s head as our gift to the Garrison Commander,” he announced as he drew his sword, and they charged upon the shattering Germans.

    Shouts and screams are over taking the sound of swords against shield. The Barbarian retreat has turned into a massive rout.

  13. #53
    Alwyn's Avatar Frothy Goodness
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    Default Re: Fractured Eagle-Updated 4/18

    An exciting battle, with great story-telling and impressive images! Authorius is a brave commander.

  14. #54

    Default Re: Fractured Eagle-Updated 4/18





    CHAPTER 14. A Point of no Return (I)



    There’s a foulness in the air, dead flesh baked too long under the sun. Dornicus held his breath as he approached one of Rotomagus’s side gates, over the bodies of Barbarian who tried to storm it.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    He is Dornic no more, that name was only for the Germans. Now among Romans he is Dornicus.

    Once again he his amongst the civilized, all things change but somethings stay the same.

    The Roman Realm of a thousand years will stand even when the darkness of winter freezes the Rhine.

    The gates opened for him, and he dismounted.

    Two figures approached. An armored man followed by a well-dressed gentry. The Germanic narrowed his eyes as the two Romans walked closer and closer. He recognized the gentry, but does not remember where they’ve met.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    What tighten his heart is that the Roman recognized him immediately as well, and put an arm before his armored companion. A troop of archers ran by behind Dornicus, remind him that he is once again at the mercy of Romans.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    All things change but something stays them same.

    Dornicus can see the hostility beginning to form in the gentry’s expression, his heart missed a beat.

    “Dornicus of Augustodurum at your service my lords,” Dornicus pledged his allegiance before the bearded gentry could say anything.

    “My liege, this man is of Laeti by birth,” The Roman in rich cloth stared deep into Dornicus’s eye stems as he warned his master, “A brigand who bullied and enslaved, like a vulture preying on the downed boar while it’s weakened by agony.”

    “Your honors, me and my men were trying to survive just like everyone else abandoned by the Imperial army, we were trying to protect our communities!” Dornicus rushed to defend himself as blood drained from his face while sweat heated the back of his head.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 



    The rhetoric was clear; the word of a migrant worker is nothing against the metaphors of a Citizen.

    The Roman commander said nothing but stepped closer to the Germanic despite the warning of his adviser.

    “You are a deserter?” The commander questioned as his gaze rested on the Roman equipment wore by the migrant. The commander was young, very young.

    But that matters not, because he holds the authority.

    And in Imperial lands, everything is about authority.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Not a deserter, but a lost soldier.” The Laeti stressed as the Romans gave him a chance to explain himself, “There was a general mobilization order when the Barbarians crossed the Rhine, and our community formed a regiment under the command of our Deputy Commander, the Praefectus Laetorum of Augustodurum.”

    “We joined up with the Imperial forces in the peak of winter, just in time for the counter offensive to cover the evacuations.” Dornicus’s eyes darkened as he recounted the fate of that campaign, “They were everywhere, in front of us and behind us all at the same time. We would be expecting to meet up with a unit, only to find their stripped corpse lying on the open street. There were no lines of communication; and soon every continent fought for themselves.”

    “Then how did you survive?” The Roman commander pressed on.

    “Our unit was cut off, our Praefectus was slain…” Dornicus looked away in shame and guilt as he let out the next few words, “I took what’s left of the men and rode off away from the chaos.”

    “He abandoned the infantry, THIS MAN IS A DESERTER!” The gentry barked in anger.

    “My lords I was living to fight another day! A day just like this day! Everything I did was to preserve my strength so I could exact revenge upon the invaders!” Amidst his panic, Dornicus suddenly remembered the Bearded Roman is a landowner from one of the towns he extorted during his vagrancy.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “The supreme commander of Britain, his Grace Constantine will be crossing the channel soon with an entire army, and that will be after his vanguard crosses with three legions,” they young roman commander walked right up to Dornicus’s and whispered sternly, “you should thank god that my father needs all hands on deck, or I would’ve gutted you to make an example for anyone wishing to fight another day.”
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 



    A large drip of sweat rolled down Dornicus’s forehead. Britannia is technically still in revolt, and this Supreme commander is not doubt self-appointed.

    He wished he’d never came through this gate. But he did, and on this side, it’s all hands on deck.










    Last edited by baozi; April 30, 2016 at 09:03 PM.

  15. #55
    Alwyn's Avatar Frothy Goodness
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    Default Re: Fractured Eagle <Historical Fiction> -Updated 4/30

    A great chapter, rich in atmosphere. I particularly like the line that "The rhetoric was clear; the word of a migrant worker is nothing against the metaphors of a Citizen". Status and authority carry weight, even when the world is unpredictable and dangerous. Is Dornicus lucky that the supreme commander of Britain needs every available soldier or will he wish that he had never met this young Roman commander? I look forward to finding out!

  16. #56
    Lugotorix's Avatar non flectis non mutant
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    Default Re: Fractured Eagle <Historical Fiction> -Updated 4/30

    What a great battle! Cinematic mastery with each screen progressing and telling the story of the fight.
    AUTHOR OF TROY OF THE WESTERN SEA: LOVE AND CARNAGE UNDER THE RULE OF THE VANDAL KING, GENSERIC
    THE BLACK-HEARTED LORDS OF THRACE: ODRYSIAN KINGDOM AAR
    VANDALARIUS: A DARK AGES GOTHIC EMPIRE ATTILA AAR


  17. #57
    Alwyn's Avatar Frothy Goodness
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    Default Re: Fractured Eagle <Historical Fiction> -Updated 4/30

    Voting is underway for the MAARC LXIII in which this story has been entered, please vote for your favourite story!

  18. #58

    Default Re: Fractured Eagle <Historical Fiction> -Updated 4/30

    Excited to be part of the contest! If you did enjoy my writing then drop my Alwyn's link and pop me a vote! I would really appropriate that!
    Thanks for everyone that's been following the series, and especially the mods who are very helpful.

    Thanks!

    A steaming bun
    Last edited by baozi; May 07, 2016 at 05:15 AM.

  19. #59

    Default Re: Fractured Eagle <Historical Fiction> -Updated 4/30




    CHAPTER 14. A Point of No Return (II)



    Claudian waited outside the entrance of New Palace’s garden, the Emperor’s favorite meeting place. It is strenuous work to maintain the Empire, everyday Honorius would conduct a dozen meetings here. And today is a just another day.

    The Column walk way is filled with Guards, handpicked by Olympius to protect the Emperor. They blocked Claudian and his servant out here, and informed them the Emperor is still in meeting.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Heavy footsteps drew the attention of the Poet and his servant, but the guards looked on, a testament to their discipline.

    Two figures glad in armor exited the garden.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Behind them servants followed carrying wooden boxes and chests. The poet waved at the officers, signaling them to come over
    “Flavius Bonifacius, at your service sire.” the paled eyes Scholae greeted the court favorite.

    “What’s with the cases?” the poet asked.

    “Documents sir, the court is relocating again.” Bonifacius answered as his colleague waved the servants to move on.

    “For what?” Claudian was surprised

    “Secrecy, sir, but you are one of us.” The officer answered, he took Claudian to the side while the other officer guarded the conversation, “Goths are coming across the Julian Alps.”

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Alaric is back already?” The poet raised an eyebrow.

    “No, the half breed broke his back,” the Scholae said with a sneer, “This hoard is composed of wild savages from across the Danube.”

    Half breed is an extremely derogatory term referring to Romanized Germans whom are mostly tenant farmers. Conservative factions within the court refer to Stilicho by that name in private.

    “Thank you Bonifacius. Your help has been noted.”

    Bonifacius left with a big grin, knowing full well that Claudian at least will recognize his face in the future.

    In court, being noted is the roadmap to prestige.

    “Your imperial majesty, your Royal court Poet Claudian,” A eunuch announced into the garden. The greens are tucked away in the center of Mediolanum’s new palace, away from the chaos of urban life, away from the dirty slums and those cruel marks of civilization.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Your majesty,” Claudian greeted the young Emperor, who stood with his back against the poet, gazing upon his creatures.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “I had a dream about roses last night,” the young Emperor began as he frowned at the stems of his flowers, “a crown of them with their thorns piercing my skull. Such an overused imagery, isn’t it? Valentinian was about my age when he killed himself. ”

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Valentinian died alone in captivity. Your majesty is surrounded by loyal men who won’t flinch to remove injustice form thy side.” The Poet invigorated.

    “My rule is FAR BEYOUND this court, but SOME FAIL TO SEE THAT!” The Emperor suddenly exploded, the Poet kept his head down and tongue shut. The Emperor is clearly in a bad move. A companion of his Majesty is equivalent to a companion of a lion. At any moment, the noble creature may tear you apart.

    “It is this very type of Rhetoric in the Escort armies I am furious about! Don’t give me this about loyal men in my court, I need LOYAL MEN IN MY EMPIRE” Honorius went on, and the suppression of volume did not contain his rage, “Olympius claims the ARMY is SO LOYAL to me, but not a single one of them volunteered to go to Africa with ME! And the Senate, the number of dishonest faces makes me want to PUKE. Of all men in court who is out there laboring in for me? THE VERY MAN YOU ADVICE ME AGAINST! For Christ’s sake, ENOUGH WITH THE PETTY SQUABBLES! HALF OF GUAL IS LOST AND NOT A SINGLE SOUL IN COURT KNOWS WHAT IS GOING ON!”

    “Your majesty! A fat hog can break its chain…”

    “SILENCE! YOU WILL SPEAK WHEN I COMMAND.”

    There was a brief silence. The eunuch standing by did not even dare to breath. Claudian sunk to a deep bow of shame before the Emperor. He has failed him. Instead of being an observer of the petty conflicts between factions, the poet allowed himself to be engulfed.

    He did not blame Honorius for the outburst. If fact, his frustration at the state of his court inspired more loyalty from the poet.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Apologies my friend, it’s been a long day. Speak your mind.” The Emperor granted after long breaths tamed his anger.

    Claudian looked up, and met Honorius’s eyes.

    “I will fight for you your majesty.” The Scholar said with determination, his eyes filled with commitment, “I know I’m just a poet, but send me to the front with a general and I will be a flea by his ear, day and night, reminding him of your command. I will be your eyes and your ear your Majesty!”

    The Emperor held Claudian’s gaze, testing the integrity of his oath.

    “You will also be my sword!” The young Emperor said in renewed aspirations as he drew out his side arm and handed it to Claudian, “Wield this blade as if your hands are that of mine. If anyone stands in your way; first kill, then report!”

    “Thank you your majesty, LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!”






    Under the bright moon, wolves are howling to the night sky attracting their peers. There are plenty to eat tonight, for a thousand corpse lay scattered around Rotomagus. More can be found in the forest, betrayed by their Romanized allies.

    In one assault, Harric had lost two thousand warriors.

    What’s left of the horde sat defeated in their camp, staring blanking into the flames. Just last night they dreamed of glory and plunder. Now, they are stunned by the tenaciousness of the Romans. Like a hammer striking an Iron shield, it’s the aftershock that hurts the most.

    There are talks of abandoning Harric, and scattering to their own ways.

    As the Barbarians sink in despair, British Legionaries are advancing towards the camp in formation: A Force of eight hundred dispatched by the Vanguard Army, let by Lustinianus. They cross the channel when smoke arise from the besieged city. Knowing Rotomagus was under assault, Pansa sent a contingent cross the sea to scout the region while all the warbands are gathered for the attack.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Lustinianus was just a centurion outside Gratian’s tent, but now under Constantine, he commands a legion. He is eager to repay of Constantine’s favor, and prove his worth. After realizing the assault was crushed by the Garrison, he has decided to press the attack.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    To bolster his meager force, Lustinianus brought along with him the two hundred crewmen that manned the Transports.

    Shouts begin to spread through the camp, and soon a troop of Barbarians emerged from their stronghold. Most of the warriors didn’t have enough time to put on their armor, and many are still fatigued by their flight from Rotomagus.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “That’s about enough of them, let them come to us.” Lustinianus ordered.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Cheiroballistra, Find your targets!” His aide ordered to the artillery masters.

    “Loose!”

    “God Almighty!” The soldier shouted as he shot out the first projectile.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Iron shafted Javelin whizzed through the air, creating a tunnel of air trailing behind it. The four turrets begin to fire rapidly into the Barbarian cluster, forcing them to charge down and engage.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Throw!”

    With a whistle, a volley of lead darts was pitched into the air. They struck down on the Barbarians, a few even pierce through their shields.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    And while the Germans are adjusting the shields, another lead volley was thrown, killing many with their shields down.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    The Legionaries threw all five of their war darts, and engaged the Barbarians in the front while their scorpion turrets kept enemy reinforcements at bay.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Marines! Let’s clear a path for the torch!” Lustinianus shouted as he led the sailors into battle, pushing out a clear path for a group of his men.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Barbarians fired flaming arrows from their watch towers, but only scored a few lucky hits

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “Throw!” the Turrets stopped firing, but a wave a war darts nailed in on the barbarians who tried to rush out the gate.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    The ones by the gate were slaughtered. Romans rushed in the settlement and spread fire as they went. They set flames to huts with families inside, and chopped down the unarmored men throwing themselves to cover the flight of their families.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    The fire spread quickly and soon large sections were engulfed in flames. Fire, and the screams of women and children shattered the moral of the defenders outside, many began to flee.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    The fight inside the settlement became a massacre as Roman troops clad in mail cut down barbarians in cloth. Ashe and smoke added to the chaos as the entire wooden settlement went up in the flames.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    The Germans were butchered.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    As the fire burned out, the fighting died down. Thousands lay dead or dying in the rubbles while the rest are scattered into the surrounding country side. This horde has been utterly destroyed.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    “No quarters for the wounded, my legion isn’t their baggage train!” Lustinianus ordered as he stepped into the burnt out settlement. His men have already begun rounding up the survivors, mostly women and children who will be put to the chains.

    The commander looked down, and saw a barbarian choking in mud bleeding out besides his feet.

    “Romani Schwein,” the hoarse voice cursed.

    The Legate raised his feet, and stomped in barbarian’s skull.

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    The ones that fled will spread the word, to every tribe migrating through the country side:

    Romans have returned to lay claim on everything that entered imperial soil; their wives, their children, and even their lives.
    Last edited by baozi; May 08, 2016 at 11:08 PM.

  20. #60
    Lugotorix's Avatar non flectis non mutant
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    Default Re: Fractured Eagle <Historical Fiction> -Updated 5/8

    Vivid battle scene and good dialogue with Honorius. 'A fat hog can break it's chain...' What does the saying mean? Congratulations on the MAARC win!
    AUTHOR OF TROY OF THE WESTERN SEA: LOVE AND CARNAGE UNDER THE RULE OF THE VANDAL KING, GENSERIC
    THE BLACK-HEARTED LORDS OF THRACE: ODRYSIAN KINGDOM AAR
    VANDALARIUS: A DARK AGES GOTHIC EMPIRE ATTILA AAR


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