[RTR-FOE] Mysteries of the Past 2: A Roman Struggle for Survival

[Maurits]

After having written my first AAR, I'd like to announce to you that I've started making up my mind about the sequel:

Mysteries of the Past 2
A Roman Struggle for Survival

It will tell about Maurits being transported to another time again: this time I'll lay the focus at the Roman conquest of the known world! I might not describe everything from city to empire, but it's a nice topic for an AAR

The first AAR was a trial to see if I could manage to write a story that someone would like to read, and after all nice reactions I decided to start this great project. I'll follow two characters, who's story-lines will be interwoven, to get a higher-quality story and making it nicer to read because of the change in perspective. I hope you'll like it, and I'll start writing this week!

Another interesting part of this project is that I won't write this alone, but together with Caligula Caesar! That will be fun, for we'll each write half of the AAR. By that you'll see the good parts of both our styles which will hopefully make this AAR nice to read.

Maurits den Hollander

[Conqistador]

hope this project goes well!

i liked vm your past AAR, i nearly cried when it finnished!

[Maurits]

Prologue: An Evening of Surprise

At a normal evening, after just another normal day of very boring schoolwork, two friends, Pierre and Maurits, sat on the sofa. After all these years they’d known each other, they had become very good friends, and had done a lot ofthings together. Maurits was at Pierre’s home, because he would stay there for the night. That evening they were watching a very interesting BBC documentary about the rise of Pyrrhus of Epirus, a Greek king. They shared a passion for history, and because of that they spent many evenings together, discussing history and how they would have acted in the place of those people. Until now it had been an evening just as all others, with chips, cola and some other refreshments, while they were watching and discussing the documentary. But neither of them dreamedthat this evening would end in the way that it did…

Whilst they sat watching silently, the voice of Neil MacGregor rang in the room:

‘After Pyrrhus became King of the Mollossians and claimed the Kingdom of Epirus in 297 BC with Ptolemy I’s military and financial support, he reigned there for a few years in peace, building up his army. In 295 BC he moved his capital to Ambrakia, and after that made war against his former ally Demetrius of Macedon. In 284 BC he was driven out of Macedonia by Lysimachus, and therefore he sought for new lands to conquer.
In 281 BC the city-state of Tarentum made war with Rome, and faced the great military might of the growing RomanRepublic. Therefore, they asked Pyrrhus to lead the war, and after being advised to do so by the famous oracle of Delphi he assembled his army to land on the shores of southern Italy. He made an alliance with Ptolemy Keraunos, King of Macedon, who sent him troops to his aid, and set sail to Italy. His mighty army consisted of 3000 Cavalry, 2000 archers, 500 slingers, 20.000 infantry and 20 mighty war elephants that would break the Roman morale. A Roman army under Consul Publius Valerius Laevinius marched to counter him, and they met at the settlement of Herakleia. Here they’d fight a battle, theoutcome of which would set the scene of power in southern Italy for the coming years and shake Roman morale to the core. Stay tuned next week at the same time for the outcome. This was Battles of History with Neil Macgregor…’

For a moment they were silent. Then they discussed tactics that Laevinius could use against the elephants, and how they would counter them if they stood in Pyrrhus’ shoes. ‘Ah,’ Pierre sighted, ‘wouldn’t it be great if we could see that battle, or command those troops? I wonder how we’d do as classical generals!’ For a moment Maurits thought about these words, and then answered: ‘Maybe we’d do well, but I think it’ll be a big responsibility to have lives of so many men lying in your hands.’ For a while they talked on, but at last they went to bed, their heads full of tactics and classical armies. Slowly, darkness closed around them and they fell asleep, totally unaware of the ancient power that had been awakened by their words…

[Marku]

cool aar, look forward to next part :-)

[Maurits]

Chapter 1: A Fight for Rome

Blood chilling cries went up as the men at his sides fell under a rain of Epirote missiles. ‘Hold on, men,’ he cried, ‘soon the consul himself will ride to our aid!’ He couldn’t have imagined that the battle would end in such a mess when he woke up that morning. In the early hours of the day, it had all seemed a great adventure to him…

When Maurits woke up, he soon realized that he wasn’t in his own bed. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and looked around him. Suddenly, as if struck by lightning, he realized that he was looking into a Roman tent. He had seen this before in books, but now he was in it! It seemed that their wishes had come true... When he got up, he saw that he was much older; in his mid twenties, he guessed. He was stunned when he looked at the big, muscled shape that was reflected by the bronze mirror. In a corner of his tent he found attire and weapons, and when dressed he stepped outside.

‘Morning, o Centurio’, a young soldier said. For a moment Maurits stood silent. He could understand and speak Latin! It seemed to be part of the power that had drawn him into the past. He wondered whether Pierre would be there too. However, there was no time to look for him. He ate something, and then he found out that he commanded a unit of Hastati, and he would have to lead them into battle in a few hours.
After some time a trumpet rang, and he went to the Consul’s quarters. There he found Laevinus amidst his generals, preparing for the oncoming battle. Laevinus wasn’t a capable leader. The only reason that he’d become consul was that his family had the right contacts at the right places in Rome. So far, this hadn’t been a problem, but now that they needed a strong leader it could turn out badly for their case…
The Roman forces deployed with a forest at their left, and the sea at their right flank. In the forest some skirmishers and equites were hiding.

This had been an idea of Laevinus. He hoped to keep the Epirote cavalry there so that they might break the phalangites. When the enemy approached, everyone (except the consul maybe) realized that this wouldn’t help at all. Pyrrhus had overwhelming numbers of cavalry and some fell war elephants that would soon break their line. But they would stand firmly, and try to fight bravely for the honour of Rome. Soon the enemies’ main line drew nearer, and were so close that Maurits could see the separate soldiers. In the meantime, behind the Epirote infantry, there was a fight at the eaves of the wood. However, this would only give them a short relief, because already missiles were coming down on the Romans. In this situation they were at this time…

‘Keep steady, men. Wait until my signal, and then throw your pila at those pezhazteroi!’ The Hastati waited, and then a hail of pilae arched down towards the enemy. Some died, but not enough. Maurits knew his men wouldn’t be able to do much against those long pikes. But still, they would try to hold the line until Laevinus came with his cavalry.

As soon as their lines clashed, the situation became desperate. More and more men fell, killed by the overwhelming numbers of Epirote soldiers. When they thought that all was lost, and some centuries started wavering, a horn sounded all over the field. From the flank a large squadron of Roman cavalry came charging into the line, led by the Consul himself. Cheers went up, and men found heart again. Pyrrhos gathered some cavalry around him, and soon the epic fight between the two generals began. Finally, with all his bodyguards lying dead at his side, Pyrrhos was slain. Laevinius charged into the phalangites, and for one moment it seemed that the enemy would rout. For one moment. Maurits looked up in horror. Elephants.

[Maurits]

Chapter 2: A Bitter Defeat

It seemed his feet were glued to the ground as he saw the disaster unfolding. Maurits froze in terror. The earth rumbled, and cries of despair went up among the men. They were great and terrible, their horns dripping of the blood of his men that were crushed under their great feet. Maurits looked up in horror. The elephants.

When Pyrrhos was slain, it had looked like they’d be victorious. The morale of the Epirote line started wavering, and after some more charges of the Roman cavalry they would have routed. But now the odds had turned again into their enemy’s favour. One of the most skilled commanders of Greece had been in Pyrrhos’ army, and now he’d taken his place as general. The fell beasts had been hiding until this moment, but now he’d called them in to break the Roman morale. ‘Centurio,’ a man said, ‘Centurio, we must flee! Look there! If we don’t go we’ll be killed by those... those… things…’ he sank on the ground, crying of despair. Maurits looked at the boy in pity. Merely come of age, he was now obliged to fight against a terrible enemy. To fight for Rome, in a war that was not his. ‘Come on, man,’ he said with a soft voice, ‘stand up! The consul still fights on, and we won’t leave the battlefield until he gives the sign for retreat.’ At the moment that he said this, the first men were thrown into the air while the elephants cut through their line. Men started to rout, and their right flank was broken. Some brave men hurtled missiles towards the elephants, but they were protected by their thick skin. After a while, a shouting went up among them, because one of the beasts had fallen. But it was too late. Epirote cavalry charged between their ranks, and soon they lay dead on the field.

At the left flank, some troops still held the line, encouraged by Maurits’ words. But, when the elephants drew near, they also started to despair. Maurits would have fought on until the end, until his end, had not a terrible thing happened. An event that would shock the whole city of Rome, and would leave her inweeks of unrest and troubles. Laevinus routed! When he saw that the battle was lost he gathered the last of his bodyguards and rode away to safety. The coward! But he paid dearly for this retreat. Epirote missiles came down on them, and one after another his small group fell. At last, just before he was out of their reach, a missile hit him in his back. He fell from his horse, wispering these words at his last men: ‘I must depart now… we have failed,’ he sighted, ‘this centurion, he did very well. Better than I did... tell him to save some men, and depart to Rome. Now… I… leave…’. The light in his eyes broke, and like this he died. And thus the Consul departed, leaving behind his men in a mess, which could have been a victory.

When Maurits got word from this, he shouted at his men: ‘Retreat! Retreat! Come on,’ he said to some men around him, ‘act like you’re routing, we’ll fight ourself a way into the woods!’ His men followed him, while others behind them were killed by the Epirotes.
After some time they reached the eaves of the wood, and luckily the Epirote cavalry was hunting after some others. Maurits looked around him. He counted a hundred men, from different units. It was likely that most of their comrades would be killed, and that this would be the only remainder of the great Consular army that had departed from Rome. ‘We can’t rest now,’ he said, ‘follow me a further into the woods; there we’ll be safe for the night.’

***

When they had rested, the small band marched into the direction of Grumentum, a major Roman settlement in that region of Italy. On the battlefield the Epirotes were now still feasting and resting after their victory, but the next day they would march again. Because of that, they had to make sure that they were far away of them before the sun rose, otherwise they’d be hunted down like the rest of the army…

After long hours during which no one said a word they reached the gates of Grumentum. When Maurits had made sure that his men were cared for, he departed to the Headquarters of Consular Army II, which would operate from the town hall of the settlement untill reinforcements had reached them. After he’d arrived there, two other officers that had managed to survive the battle came to him, saying: ‘Welcome. How many men do you bring us?’ Maurits sighted. ‘I’m afraid I’ve only got a hundred. How many have you?’ The soldiers looked at each other’s faces. At last, the eldest one said: ‘We’ve got three, maybe four hundred men here to defend the settlement against Pyrrhos. And with the Consul dead on the field..’ ‘What?’ Maurits asked, ‘is Laevinus dead? But then one of us has to travel to Rome to inform the Senate that they’ll have to appoint a new Consul, and send him here with some reinforcements. I think, Aemilius, that this honour will be yours, as you’re the longest in service.’

Then one of the bodyguards stepped forward, saying: ‘No, my lord, before he died the Consul appointed you to be the leader of the army. You should ride to Rome quickly, and get us some more men to hold the settlement.’ For a moment all went silent. Then the men congratulated him with his promotion, and after he’d rested a little Maurits rode away with a few men.

Weeks later, they reached the Eternal City. The new consul adopted him, so that he became his son as a reward for his brave deeds. 'I wish a man that I can trust as my second in command, and who's better fit for that role than my own son?' he'd said. Now he served as Tribune under his command. Maurits smiled. After all, the defeat had brought him something good. When he asked if Pierre had survived the battle, he got words that another centurion had escaped to the north, and now marched to the south in the Second Consular Army. Some people said that he was called Amelius. He knew that this could mean Pierre was alive, but both of them knew that it would take a long time before they’d meet again. Maurits rode south again together with the Consul and a few centuries, where they’d have to defend Grumentum and rebuild their army. A heavy task lay before them, but they’d manage. They would withstand all dangers of battle, all pain and loss, for that one holy goal: the glory of Rome!

[Caligula Caesar]

Good work, Maurits The next update will be mine

[Maurits]

Thanks, CC!

I'll be waiting eagerly to read some work of your hand in this story

And, for the readers: It's nice to get some feedback about the AAR. What do you like, and what could be better? Do you like the pic format (you won't have to scroll from left to right all time)? Please tell us and reply in this thread, so that we can work on these things in future updates.

[Finn]

Well written Maurits! Now that I've read the opening chapters, I'll definitely be following this story closely.

Regarding the images - I like the size and the quality of the ones you've chosen.

Keep it up, and +rep!

[Gath]

Really enjoyed this so far, the co-writers should make it more interesting! Main thing I didn't like is that a new centurion becomes the leader of an army that quickly, but then again, I'm willing to put up with it. No one is interested in hearing a ton of battles you have no effect on.

[Maurits]

Thanks, Gath! You should imagine that for us it seems that we're 'new', but that in story perspective the people whose places we took in might have served in the army much longer.

[Caligula Caesar]

My first installment Enjoy!

Chapter 3 - Responsibility

“Holy—” Pierre cut off. It wouldn’t do him any good to have a reputation for a foul mouth on top everything else. He forced his eyes not to bulge. A man sailed through the air, screaming. The elephant came on, ploughing through the ranks, sending men fleeing – or flying. He saw a triarii stab at the back of an elephant’s foot before he fell to the ground, an arrow jutting from his back. A principe stood his ground, until the elephant’s tusk skewered him through the neck.

And they were coming his way. Pierre braced himself. His men were fleeing around him, and his senses were telling him to do the same. No, he told himself. This isn’t your fight, but these are your men. You are responsible for them. Always do your best – if that is not enough, then so be it.

He raised his pila. The elephant charged. His heart beat in his chest. Life or death. Each on the tip of a spear. He threw the pila.

It sailed in a perfect arc. Pierre’s breath caught. An archer fired down at him. The arrow passed the javelin in midair as it flew in slow motion. He leapt up as it buried itself where his foot had been. It crunched under his boot as he landed.

At the same moment, the pila struck the elephant in the eye. Things happened very quickly from then. The elephant bellowed loudly and veered to the right, crashing into another elephant, and all hell broke loose.

Men, horses and elephants screamed and died. But there were more elephants, more Epirote cavalrymen from hell, more phalangites bent on his destruction. “Retreat!” he shouted. “This way! We must flee!”

And he fled.

It was uphill, but panic lent him strength. He was halfway up the ridge by the time he realised the Epirotes weren’t following. Several elephants had been frightened enough to run amok, and the elephant riders were still trying to control them. The remains of the Roman army were in full flight, though. The battle was lost.

It was only as he crested the ridge that it occurred to him that, as he was a centurion here, and as the Romans were known for their strict discipline, he might face some unwanted questions and punishments for allowing his men to flee. “Order!” he shouted. “Gather to me! We must not soil ourselves further by allowing disorder to reign! The Battle of Herakleia is lost, but we can still win the war!”

To his surprise, it worked. The troops – about three hundred in total – came together into a double column, and Pierre led them onwards. “Centurion Aemilius, where are we going?” another centurion asked.

Pierre – or Flavius Aemilius, as it appeared he was called here – considered for a moment. What he said here would affect a lot of people’s lives. “To the north. We will cut across the Peninsular to the west coast, and from there follow the roads to the River Tiber. There we will meet the Consul Coruncanius, and the Gods willing, he will win us the war.”

The centurion seemed satisfied with that. He spread the word: They were going north.

Pierre marched the men well past sundown. It was near midnight when they crossed into Lucania and entered one of its many forests. Only then did he allow the troops to rest.

************************************************

Author's note: This is quite obviously fantasy, so the storyline doesn't have to be entirely plausable But for those of you who are wondering how someone warped 2290 years back into the past can suddenly be a centurion, we are making use of the theory of reincarnation Basically, at some point in the past, I was Flavius Aemilius, a Centurion of 20 years of age. At another point, I was Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, and I wasn't mad!

Anyway, my mind somehow leaped back into the past to save myself, like One of the Five in Anthony Horowitz's "The Power of Five" series (I recommend that for an interesting and exiting read, BTW).

There will be more clarification (and less action, unfortunately ) in my next installment. The one after that will have a battle though, with pics

[Gath]

Great job CC! I didn't fully realize you took the place of people, thanks for explaining that.

[Maurits]

Dear readers,

With pain in my heard I am obliged to tell you that both CC and I are too bussy to finish this project. However, during the summer-break a new AAR might be appearing in this forum, giving little previews of VII...

In the meanwhile, you could read my latest work, awarded with a silver medal in the Scriptorium Writing Competition:

The Letter

I hope that you like it. You'll hear from us, at some time.