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  1. #1

    Default Short Story, Please Read + Feedback :)

    It was a timely day. After many pointless skirmishes, losing three decisive battles on Roman land, pointless and endless negotiations, the day had finally come when the barbaric Carthaginians could finally feel cold Roman steel. And as a little reward for 27 years of service and this 17 year long war, some young Carthaginian Nobles would make good slaves. Maybe some young Noble girls just past fertility; these could help Chanella back home in the kitchen too. A soldier’s deft grin pinched at the corners of Lucius’s my mouth. That is if there were any youths left in all of Carthage; most of them had been sacrificed by their own parents as a call for protection to their gods against Roman justice. Expressionless disgust engulfed the First-Spear as the prospect of no slaves as righteous reward dawned on him. This was just more reason for these barbarians to die. These were some of the thoughts of Lucius Vereecius, First-Spear Centurion of the 4th Legion, as he was standing at Zuma in his splendid full military regalia watching general Scipio Africanus negotiate to Hannibal the terms of Roman peace for the last time.



    That animal, Hannibal, was not going to accept, Lucius made sure of that. The peace terms were utterly humiliating; no man of honor could accept them. No man would sell the souls of his people; no man could accept the astronomical taxes proposed. Besides, Romans are to dignified to do labor; they need slaves.


    As General Scipio Africanus trotted back on his magnificent Gallic white stallion, no man could possibly look more perfectly disappointedly, he raised his arm and the trumpeter sounded the assembly of formation. 500 yards away the awful drone of the Carthaginian Horn bellowed across the openness. As expected, the War Elephants moved to the front of Hannibal formation lines. Everything had gone according to script thus far and now it was time for the, apparently, dejected general to give his final address before the battle.



    “Glorious free Romans, brave sons of Aeneas, today we stand on the barren Carthaginian earth spoiled by the Ancient Whore Queen Elissa, temptress of our proud Rome’s ancient founder. The ancient rivalry must end, today! Not by our choice either! Upon offering our very generous peace proposal, the Ancient Whore Queens Minion Offspring, Hannibal, leader of those barbarians yonder, refused to listen to a word of our just peace offer and countered with a humiliating offer of his own. Hardly a peace offer if you ask me!! That Barbarian, that savage Minion, demanded me, noble and patriotic Scipio Africanus, to choose 1000 loyal and honorable Italian soldiers, then give these priceless 1000 brave men to him as prisoners so the rest of us could skulk back across the Aegean to our homes like broken Greek body slaves; only for them to regroup and plan another attack on our faithful fatherland!! Again, courteously, I tried to offer generous Roman terms to the Barbarian… Again I was cut off, but this time his demand increased to 5000 chosen sons of father Romulus!! Today the ancient rivalry must end. We peace loving Romans all know that those Minions will never stop until they have destroyed us and taken our women as slaves and sacrificed our innocent children to their evil gods!”


    He had to say no more, the Romans, and most Italians, in legions were going berserk. The righteous echoing sound of cold Roman steel drowned out whatever the disappointed but even more charming general said next. That huge white stallion, it must have been the biggest horse in all of Africa, rocked triumphantly past Lucius. Lucius turned to look at his general who was looking dejected and disappointed in contrast to this magnificent creature. The general played the role of protector and beneficent father to perfection. At that moment the horse could not help what impression it gave off; but Scipio Africanus, although not showing it, felt internally what the horse displayed, knew Lucius. He had played the heart strings of these ignorant plebian peasants to perfection; he could not feel the affect of his own words, nor did he want to, nor did he believe any of what he said. The general had manipulated these 34 000 heavy infantry to fight beyond their physical means and even beyond any blessing Mars could bestow to protect their families and glorious father land. The general did not care for the sons and Ancient Aeneas and Romulus, their wives, their innocent children – he wanted a triumph back in Rome, he wanted his name on sculptures across the Roman Empire, he wanted slaves and he would spent as many Italian lives as it took, he would even spend all the Roman lives in the Legions if that was it took to live forever. Lucius Vereesius knew this too well.


    Once we subjugate these Barbarians there will be an endless supply of slaves to work on our farms; and those silver mines in Iberia will soon be ours too. And if the Iberians resist, they too shall be slaves. I need to survive this battle though. For, from here we are going to Iberia, and then another Legion will be raised and I am sure to be promoted to Praefect. Yes… I will milk the senate for ‘extra needed supplies.’ Three years in Iberia I will be set for life. Then I shall retire and live on some estate near Capua with my wife and slaves having them please my every wish. First I need to revenge my father who died fighting in Campania 46 years ago. Lucius thought.


    As First-Spear Centurion Lucius was first a Centurion, the leader of a Cohort, and then, as First-Spear, the Leader of the 16 other Centurions of the Legion. The army was truly Lucius’s. Although the Patrician General was, by birth and senatorial nomination, the leader over this army, Scipio did not dare try getting involved in trying to overpower Lucius on the ground level. The general had learnt his lesson too well in Celtiberia where he learnt how truly uncoordinated an army could be; resulting in a string of humiliating defeats which almost cost him the command of the Carthaginian campaign. Since then General Scipio had done his best to win Lucius back over, even if this included turning a blind eye in breaking Italian alliance treaties. The general was really intrigued when he saw how Lucius was breaking down fully trained Cohorts sent from Rome and rebuilding and retraining each in his own way. What the general did not know was why, and after Celtebria he avoided getting involved at all cost. The general did however realize that Lucius rebuilt the Cohorts according to where the men were from – the men in each Cohort were from the same region.


    Standing at ease until he gave the order, his army stood waiting with a sharp and jagged justice, as mountains in the face on the awaiting War Elephants. His support, the priceless Roman veterans who had no less than 15 years experience stood way back, at the rear of the battle formation, Lucius made sure of this.



    The dry Carthaginian horn shrilled again, and the Carthaginian formation loosened. This was not the plan; this was not what the First-Spear predicted to the general the previous evening, and not what he had in plan for the Campanians in the front of the formation. Lucius felt a hot flush, then the cold sweat clang to his leathery neck for dear life, his breath grew longer and slower – he consciously controlled this. He reached for his beating stick. He yelled “One, Two, Three, Four, Five - Third – Defensive!” He strangled his beating stick and his knuckles where slate white as he examined the front first five Cohorts, all Campanians, spread and thin.



    This was not right. There were only so many Campanians, he knew the right thing to do was move a Roman Cohort from the rear to the front line. Could what he was about to do result in spilling Roman blood, the sweat on his neck grew icy in the African sun.



    Just what he was looking for, a young Campanian out of step in the 2nd Cohort. Lucius moved briskly to the tall and under nourished soldier and beat him with rigorous vigor, more than any fowl Carthaginian could ever imagine to. None of the other soldiers in this Cohort dared to make eye contact with the First-Spear once he let the young soldier stagger back to his feet. As the Campanian reach full length, the tip of Lucius’s beating stick bit into the side of his knee a last time.



    The Roman veterans in the Cohort behind the second were grinning as one of their father’s enemy’s offspring got another beating, he well deserved. Just then the Roman trumpet sounded with a long whaling cry. The cavalry pincer attacked was being followed through. Lucius loosened the grip of the beating stick as the cold sweat around his neck loosened its lock and he announced “We shall not have the moral of our whole army broken by any non-citizen.” To this the Roman contingency stomped their shields twice on the barren soil.


    With the pincer attack being followed the Campanian’s in the front line had no chance, calculated Lucius. The Roman cavalry were all citizen, and it was not like them to get distracted from a task.



    Once the War Elephants led the Carthaginian charge and smash into the Campanian hoplites in the front line, most of them would perish. The elephants would perish too because. The Campanians were of some use after all. They would make sure the elephants would not reach the Romans to the rear. And if those Campanian cowards dared to route, the veteran Romans to rear were under order to kill the deserters, or face crucifixion themselves. Crucifixion was unlikely, as the Romans were more than happy to find a reason to kill any Campanian.



    However, hopefully there would be enough cowardly Campanian survivors after the initial elephant charge to hold the Carthaginian heavy infantry charge just long enough for the Roman cavalry to make it around Carthaginian flanks, and then charge from their rear. At this time the Campanians and the Carthaginians would be sandwiched between the Roman infantry and the Roman cavalry. As the Cavalry would come into sight, Lucius would signal the Roman infantry to charge too. Killing anything other than Roman in sight. “Now just to execute the plan,” thought Lucius.


    Lucius signal to the banner bearer, the banner bearer raised the S.P.Q.R. flag. The trumpet bleated a few seconds later and the army moved in step forward.

  2. #2
    Carados's Avatar Senator
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    Default Re: Short Story, Please Read + Feedback :)

    I'm not really sure what to put here, English language isn't really my strongest point, but I thought I'd put this so you know at least one person has read it ^__^

    Having said that, some of the smaller paragraphs near the end perhaps could've been condensed into a few larger paragraphs like you have at the beginning - anesthetical reasons mind.

  3. #3
    Maurits's Avatar ЯTR
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    Default Re: Short Story, Please Read + Feedback :)

    Shouldn't you place this in the AAR forum? There it could be valuated by more experienced writers than I am

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  4. #4
    Quinn Inuit's Avatar Artifex
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    Default Re: Short Story, Please Read + Feedback :)

    This is a good start. It sort of begins out of nowhere, though. I think it needs some more back story. Also, beware the temptation to overuse internal monologues. I've never been a big fan of those (unless you're a melancholy Dane--they get a pass).

    Grammatically, you need to carefully review your comma use. A substantial fraction of them are unnecessary. There are also a number of words that you've misspelled or replaced with homophones.

    I'm also not sure why you've posted what is apparently an FOE AAR in the ExRM forum (we don't have Campanian hoplites), but I'm not going to grudge you the space.
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