IV. MAARC - The Winners + Category Winners + First Silver Medal Recipient

[Aldgarkalaughskel]

Juvenal goes wild by seizing the first MAARC Silver Medal with a clear triumph and 3 category wins (Best Narrative, Best Graphics, Best Historical AAR). (Note: Juvenal has previously earned the bronze.)

Theodotos I puts his name on the Leaderboard by gaining the second place with a fantastic finish.

Babagitta survived the gladiator fight and gets into the winner thread the second time in his cAAReer.

All hail the winners!

AARtist of the Month: Juvenal

Spite of Severus

Faction: Picts
Difficulty: H/H

Description: In 410AD the Diocese of Britannia had cast off the Roman administration and stood alone. The pretender Constantine III already ruled in Gaul, so there was little chance of intervention by the moribund Empire of the West. Gaels, Picts and Saxons converged on the Romano-British like carrion birds on a corpse.

This is the story of Severus, a man cruelly dispossessed by the new Romano-British nobility, who tied himself to the coat-tails of the barbarians as they swept across the fair land of Britannia in order to seek his own revenge and restore his fortune.

Author's comments: Severus is a practical man, he has the tidy mind of a good administrator, cluttered neither by high emotion nor an excess of scruples. He allows the loud and the self-important to believe they are making the decisions while he quietly arranges their fate.

Teaser:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

I kept Brede and all my retinue with me and called for help from my contacts here in the province of Flavia Caesariensis. Luckily there was now money enough to raise a professional town watch, establish a hospital, give aid to families devastated by the sack of the town, and start a rebuilding programme.

While I was making these arrangements, my agent Niall, who I had placed with Drest McAngus, arrived with news from the north. Drest was a man of action and had found the unsuccessful search for Sennianus almost unbearable. He had now sought and received permission from Angus to destroy the independent Picts so that he could seek out Sennianus unfettered by the need to cover Dal Riada.



Drest had moved suddenly against Cinioc of the Taexali, surprising him before he could retreat to his mountain strongholds. He approached Cinioc through woods so that the enemy would have nowhere to hide after their defeat.

The army of Drest was mostly levy, with only a cadre of experienced warriors. He arranged the levy into a battle line and marched it through the woods straight at the enemy while most of his experienced men swept around to the right.

The Taexali crumbled almost immediately, and Drest swooped down upon Cinioc sitting uselessly behind his army. The fight was bloody but brief and Cinioc died without ever fully comprehending what had gone wrong.

Interview with the winner

Q: First of all congratulations on your victory. How will it feel to wear the silver medal?

It has come as a bit of a shock. I was making no headway the AAR competitions, so I had my sights set on the Bronze with my TotW efforts.

I can't be objective about Spite of Severus, it's my baby and I love it, but it didn't seem to appeal to the electorate. Nevertheless I continued plugging away because I enjoyed the way the story developed and people posted encouragements.

Q: Why did you choose especially this era, this mod, and this faction?

SeniorBatavianHorse introduced me to the late Empire with his wonderful AARs and his energy on the IBFD forum. After my initial WRE campaign, I looked at the Romano-British and saw that they had an awesome array of heavy cavalry, so I tried the Picts just for the challenge. After losing my first two campaigns within a couple of years I came to the conclusion that the only way to win was to go-for-broke against the Romano-British. It seemed the perfect premise for a story.

I wanted a Roman character because he is easier to write (lots of historical info available to round him out) and “Spite of Severus” just popped into my head unbidden. I was amazed to discover that Septimus Severus actually died in Britannia and that what I thought of as Hadrian's Wall was actually the Wall of Severus (Hadrian's original wall being mostly an earthwork).

Q: Tell us a little about your writing method. F.e. do you come up with the story in advance, or go with the flow of the gameplay? :hmmm:

I need an interesting concept before I can start. Severus the renegade was a god-send because being outside of the game he is free to go anywhere and talk to anyone.

My method is to play the campaign a bit, taking screen-shots. Later I try to imagine why things happened that way, like in a detective story, so I feel as if I am discovering the AAR rather than creating it. I look for pictures to support my draft, I may actually replay battles to get more pictures. Finally, I let the episode rest for a little while, then come back and edit it until it feels right and flows well.

Q: What is your "secret ingredient" to success?

That's like asking centenarians how they have achieved their great age, one puts it down to abstinence and meditation, another to a glass of whisky every day. So I will just have to guess.

I think success comes with being able to bring the characters alive for your readers in a story that feels whole and satisfying. Spite of Severus works better than my previous AAR because it is more consistent and the story can be seen to be heading towards a definite conclusion.

Q: Where does Severus go next?

After the Britannia campaign is completed (with part XX) this story will end. But I am thinking of writing a sequel to cover the later campaign in Gaul. It would have a more detached nature and be written in the third-person.

Q: How would you encourage others to write after action reports?

There is great pleasure to be gained just from making a story, but it's even better when readers express their support. Now that we have a thriving community of writers, it is vital to make your writing attractive to casual readers. So polish those episodes until they shine! Cut away the inessential and make sure everything is clear and reads smoothly.

Q: Anything else you'd like to say?

Can I put my bronze medal on Ebay?

Runner-up: Theodotos I

Across the Waters: A Story of the Migration

Faction: The Aedui
Difficulty: M/M
Description: A people driven from their lands, powerful generals vying for power, an enemy at the gates. A young man caught in the middle, striving to endure--and survive the intrigues of the court and the assaults of the foe. There is no middle ground, and one's best will not be good enough. . .

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Chapter XXXIX: Son of Malac

I stiffed instinctively at the mention of our foe’s name, my hammer held more tightly in my grasp. Aneirin straightened perceptibly at my side, fire flickering in his dark eyes.
“Where are you bound?” I demanded, the first of our party to recover his voice. The youth looked at me sharply, apparently surprised at the hostility in my tones.
“I know not who you pretend to be, but I am on my way south, to join the army of Tancogeistla oi Neamha.” He pronounced the name with audible pride, as though he expected its utterance to open all doors for him. A strange attitude for a son of Malac.
Aneirin stepped in front of me, his sword still unsheathed in his hand. “Tancogeistla is dead,” he announced flatly. “Fallen in the taking of Ictis.”
Prasutagos’ face changed in a moment, genuine sorrow in those youthful eyes. It shocked me, I must admit. He swung down from his horse to stand before Aneirin.
“Then who leads the Aeduan state?” he asked, looking from one to another of us with the air of expectation.
Aneirin nodded slowly. “I do. I, Aneirin moc Cunobelin, have succeeded my father as Vergobret.”
Prasutagos turned, staring into our leader’s face for a moment. Then he extended his hand. “Then it is to you that I must offer the use of my sword. I have heard many things of you.”
“All bad, I assume,” Aneirin stated, his voice full of suspicion. I could scarcely blame him. Malac had been a shadow over all our lives. And this young man’s older brother and brother-in-law had usurped Aneirin’s authority in Erain.
Prasutagos flushed red-hot, looking down at the ground. “You do me an injustice, my lord. I come to you, as I would have come before Tancogeistla oi Neamha, as a beggar, with nothing to my name save these men who have sworn their loyalty to me. And is not loyalty the greatest treasure of all?”
“What would a son of Malac know of loyalty?” Aneirin hissed, bent on provoking the young man.
“Were you to ask that of my brother,” Prasutagos replied calmly, “I know not how he would answer you with honesty. It is because of his lust for power that I find myself before you today. I fled Erain pursued by his Brihentin. Only these companions follow my banner.”
My eyebrows shot up instinctively. If what he said was true. . .
“Why does Praesutagos fear you?” Aneirin asked, still skeptical.
“He swore a false allegiance to Tancogeistla out of nothing more than fear. He knew he could do nothing against the charisma and power of oi Neamha. He dreams of nothing more than reestablishing the line of my father. He feared that I might become a rival. I knew I could find refuge with Tancogeistla’s army. That is why I was riding south.”
Aneirin seemed to consider his words for a moment, his eyes searching the young man’s face for any signs of duplicity.
“We were on our way back to Attuaca,” he said finally. “You are welcome in our camp.”
Prasutagos nodded respectfully. “It is an honor, my lord.”

We rode north the next few nights, now in the company of the young Carnute and his companions.


He was a remarkably unselfish young man, willing to endure without complaint the same lot as his companions, despite his noble birth. He was nothing like his father. Indeed, there were times when I found myself wondering about the faithfulness of Malac’s wife.
The snow continued to fall as we moved into the highlands. Aneirin seemed impatient at the delay. I found out why as we huddled together near the small fire one night.
“It has been over a year, Cadwalador,” Aneirin said, rubbing his arms to restore their circulation. He went on before I could ask his meaning. “Over a year since I have seen Margeria, since I’ve held her in my arms.” He blushed. “I’m prattling on like a stripling. You must find it amusing.”
“No, my lord,” I replied, gazing into the fire as the sparks pranced into the dusk-dark sky. I knew exactly how he felt, the yearning which seemed to come from deep inside a man, from the depths of his very soul. A yearning for nothing more than the sight of one’s wife, one’s love. Aneirin’s marriage to Margeria had been a fruitful one. She had born him two fine sons, future heirs to the throne of the Aedui, perhaps. And he seemed to truly love her. Remembering her glance at the marriage-feast, and rumors I had heard since, I wondered if his love was completely reciprocated. But that was none of my affair, and I was glad of it.
Prasutagos seemed to sink lower into the depths of despondency at Aneirin’s words. The spirit seemed to have been taken out of him at the news of Tancogeistla’s death and he had grown increasingly gloomy as the journey continued.
“I too, have a wife in Attuaca,” he said soberly. Both Aneirin and I glanced his way in astonishment. He was young. . .
“That is yet another part of the reason for my flight. My brother wished her for his own.”
I looked over at Aneirin, watching as the light dawned in his eyes. Perhaps we were getting at the truth at long last.
Aneirin forced a smile to his face. “Well, then. We have a double reason for haste. Let us ride.”

Two weeks of hard riding later, we neared Attuaca. We rode single file through dark forest paths made slippery with snow. But something was wrong. I could feel it in my bones, as though the long years of campaign I had spent with Tancogeistla had given me another sense, a warning of danger.
Taking Prasutagos and three hand-picked Brihentin with me, I gained permission of Aneirin to ride forward and reconnoiter the ground ahead of us. Clear the road to Attuaca.
A feeling of danger gripped my chest as we rode forward, toward a narrow bluff which I knew offered a good view of the town. Below us, in the gathering twilight, between us and Attuaca, was an encampment of the Casse.

The town was under siege. . .

Second runnder-up: Babagitta

To the Hell and Back - The Desert Knights

Faction: Kingdom of Jerusalem
Campaign: Late Era
Difficulty: H/VH

Forget everything you know about our World. Nothing’s the same anymore. There is no glory or pride but only survival.
Conspiracy, treason felony, collusion and betrayal are only few of our enemies.
This time, we have only one chance…

Category Wins

Best Narrative: The Spite of Severus by Juvenal

This exciting adventure is a pleasure to read, and the saga of the protagonist can be fully understood even without the beautiful screenshots.

Best Battle Report: Glory, Honor, and Empire - An ERE AAR by Old Dragoon

Although the descriptions of the battle weren't so detailed, the pictures compensated for what words could not describe. Excellent siege battles, and a nice pitched battle.

Best Historical AAR: The Spite of Severus by Juvenal

The Most Historically Acccurate AAR award goes to "Spite of Severus", a 5th century AD AAR. The player, playing the Celts, has started conquering, and is on the way to conquer, all of Britain. This is historically accurate, as far as it has gone till the moment, because the Celts had already conquered many settlements from the RomanoBritish people in the era the AAR has gone till now.

Best Graphics: The Spite of Severus by Juvenal

Because i love precision. Every moment and battle is well described and the pics are well balanced. Not too many but enough for a full immersion. The quality of the pictures are good, and there are some vey nice close shots.

I hope to have chosen the right guy, but again it is very hard to choose just one.

[♔Old Dragoon♔]

Great job Juvenal! Tenacity pays off, and well deserved I might add. Congrats to the rest of the winners. @Babagitta, everthing you write is en fuego mate. Maybe, someday I will have a cutsey medal...

[Musthavename]

Congrats to all, especially to Juvenal. Deprived of a medal for so long then suddenly jumping to silver. Well deserved!

[Xavier Dragnesi]

Great Job Juvenal! You deserve it!

[snuggans]

congrats to all three winners, your works are nothing short of amazing.

BUT! enjoy it while you can because I'm coming soon!
Well .. In about 3 months. :p

[Gaius Baltar]

Great job everyone! Congratulations on the first MAARC Silver Medal!!, still looking for the first Silver medal winner in the PotW.

[Theodotos I]

Great job to Juvenal and Babagitta, and thanks to everyone who's vote put me in second place. It feels great. I'll see you next month.

[Juvenal]

Thank you everyone for your kind words, my shiny silver medal has now arrived (as you can see).

I do hope that the denouement of Spite of Severus lives up to my intentions (it is coming in Part XX).

I suppose I am going to have to start a new AAR now.

[Giovi]

congrats