[RS 2.1a Roman (Auxiliary) AAR] Legacy Of The Father [COMPLETE]

[Knonfoda]

Haha you savages and your hemp. An interesting twist, and I am particularly interested in seeing how Borbrentas will go about 'conquering' without doing so in the name of Rome and 'civilization'. I particularly like your descriptions of the Gods, they have all the right themes that made Gods in those days.

As I said, I look forward to seeing how this will shape into action!

[Ybbon]

A twist of that I didn't see, though I always expected Marcus to turn on Rome in the last AAR, so glad to see it happening.

+rep

[McScottish]

A twist of that I didn't see, though I always expected Marcus to turn on Rome in the last AAR, so glad to see it happening.

+rep

Glad your foresight did not see it coming, thanks to Borbrentas and his "Gods"...

P.S.

Don't do drugs, kids!

[Mr. Bean Laden]

Hahaha, awesome update, freaking weed, man. Somewhy it reminds me of that South Park scene when the Chef's parents are talking about the "damn Loch Ness monster" who "was in need about three fiddy". I don't know why, probably I have been under the effect of the internet too much...

Can't wait for the next one, it would be funny if Laenas got addicted.

[Knonfoda]

McScotitsh, do you by any chance plan to put this AAR on hold too now that you have taken a fancy with the later period Napoleon era and have begun an AAR of it's own?

[McScottish]

Hahaha, awesome update, freaking weed, man. Somewhy it reminds me of that South Park scene when the Chef's parents are talking about the "damn Loch Ness monster" who "was in need about three fiddy". I don't know why, probably I have been under the effect of the internet too much...

Can't wait for the next one, it would be funny if Laenas got addicted.

Who told you about that! Get out here and show yourself...wait...pink elephants on parade... I said "daaaaaamn Woden, what the hell you doin' here! Waddya you want!" He looked me straight in the eye, an said, "bout a three fiddy."

McScotitsh, do you by any chance plan to put this AAR on hold too now that you have taken a fancy with the later period Napoleon era and have begun an AAR of it's own?

No, why would I do that? This is my "primary" AAR, the Etruscan one done on a flight of fancy, if truth be told, like many AAR's I have done. I never stopped "Serving Your Oppressor" when I was also writing a Hegemonia Thracian AAR, and I don't intend to stop this one neither!

[Knonfoda]

No, why would I do that? This is my "primary" AAR, the Etruscan one done on a flight of fancy, if truth be told, like many AAR's I have done. I never stopped "Serving Your Oppressor" when I was also writing a Hegemonia Thracian AAR, and I don't intend to stop this one neither! [/COLOR]

Well, I suppose you are right on that note haha, in any case, I look forward to more updates. You will forgive me if I don't follow your other two AAR's though, as they are set in time periods that I am not greatly interested in. I may try your Etruscan one though!

[McScottish]

Gathering The Clans – Winter 630 A.U.C

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Although my Grandfather had returned to me, seemingly from the dead, and I had found a love as swiftly as my last one had left, my winter and the duties I was to perform in those harsh and chilling months were far from over. Indeed, the Gods would not have spoken to me as they did, if it were not for some divine purpose, a divine purpose which I proposed to carry out. With the aid of my paterfamilias I would see their inspired plans come to fruition.

“What must I do?” I beseeched them one night, kneeling into a veritable ocean of freshly fallen snow, my arms spread wide and my head bowed down to peer at the ground, eyes shut and ears open as I listened intently, “how can I do what you have asked of me, please, tell me.”

There I knelt, for well over an hour, my legs going numb beneath me and my arms aching, my entire frame beginning to shake and cold sweat covering my form, twice I nearly fell to my stomach and let my arms, heavy as three shields each, fall down. I did not do so, however, and instead I steadied myself and took sharp breaths through gritted teeth.

Then, as I was about to give in and turn away, the torches I had lit in the clearing where I persisted nearly gone out, an unnaturally cold wind whipped my clothes up around me and surrounded me in an icy grip, like a fist of heartlessness closing on my body.

“Borbrentas Marcus Laenas,” a feminine voice seemed to hiss into my ear, “we shall give you help and you will be wise to heed our words,” I kept my eyes closed, even as I felt hands that were of no mortal being close about my shoulders, “use those that are free to complete our ambitions, that a drop of Roman blood need not be spilt. Call them from the west, the south and all around, those who shall follow you and those that follow them. Free they have lived and, if we will it, then free shall they die.”

As suddenly as those talons had grasped me, they let me go, now disentangled to fall into the snow and lay there for the rest of the night, covered in nothing but my Grandfathers cloak.

**********

For a long while I pondered and meditated upon the words spoken to me, trying to figure out their meaning and the course of action they proposed I take. It was whilst walking through the streets of Chattium with my beloved, my arm linked through her own, that I espied a group of Chatti warriors being trained to use a gladius by a quite discontent auxiliary.

Then it was as if I had been hit by Ivpiter himself...

“We use natives,” I proclaimed to Marcus the very next morning, as we sat eating our porridge and breaking our fast, “I want Geminus and every other available messenger to ride into Gallia, Rhaetia, Gallia Cisalpina and Noricum, carrying the message that I seek men not of Roman birth or service, but who will fight for me. If any leaders of Roman blood would come, for whatever their own reasons, then let them too.”

For a long moment my Grandfather looked at me, sceptical as ever, before breaking into a smile and nodding his head, “take my advice, for once, Borbrentas and write a letter to our Augustus explaining what you are about here. It would be a shame to see you and your ambitions torn asunder by those you serve.”

It was an excellent suggestion, not wanting to end up like Titus or any of Publius the Elders other, now deceased, enemies. I swiftly composed a message to him, explaining that I wished to expand the empire using irregular forces, Gauls, Thracians and Germani and all others who would rally to me. I also let it be known that I would not need to take charge of any Roman forces, of the legionary or auxiliary classes, and that the only blood that would be spilt was that of foreign foes and savage peregrini that were not even part of the empire.

A message came back to me but a few weeks later, though I shall not tell exactly what it stated, only that I had the Emperors blessing for such an 'adventure', and that the less Roman lives cut short the better. If I wished to use irregular peregrini forces then I was welcome to them, just as long as I had Roman victories to show for their demises.

This would not be a war between Roma and her enemies, no, this was both far more personal and entering an entirely new theatre of savagery. From here on in it was tribal warfare, to the knife, between myself and my enemies amongst the Germania tribes. The Cherusci, a constant source of annoyance and bloodshed in my lands, would be first, or so I thought.

Gislin, purring happily next to me one night, my wife visiting relatives under a strict guard of hardened Gallic auxiliaries, dissuaded me from this first course of vengeance.

“Borbrentas,” he said into my ear, as I lay staring up at the ceiling, “the Batavii and Frisii, greater and lesser, live at the mouth of the Rhenus. All of them are known for being great warriors, the Batavii once being a part of the Chatti people, until they chose to leave. Their neighbours, the Cananefates, we have fought before, and you have seen the excellence of their horsemen.”

Turning my head slightly, a smile on my lips, I stared into his exquisite eyes, “and what do you suggest?” It was his turn to smile, a slender finger tracing down my chest, abdomen and beyond, “they would make a fine addition to any army you raise. Go first to their homeland, take them as you took this land...and me.”

Wisdom and a genuine thought for his tribe were held in his words and, I decided, I would follow all of them. Some sooner than others.

**********

“Subolo, Brocchus, Dolabella and Varus.”

Four Romans, all dressed in their finest armour, weapon pommels polished to fine gleams, sat about my feasting table and each gave me his most winning smile as I addressed them, all except Brocchus who looked positively morose. Each man had bought with him, fighting through snow, winds and fever-giving cold to get to Chatti lands, a goodly number of fighting men from either his own command, those who would lend them the soldiers, or from wherever they wouldst find them.

“I am pleased to welcome you all , please feast and make yourselves comfortable. You all known my mind, to invade Germanic lands and defeat them for the glory of the Roman Empire, and we shall do this without having to waste a single Roman life.”

In my hand was a cup of wine, and now I drained it, slamming the cup onto the table and giving a small laugh at my own actions, each man certainly paying attention to me now.

“You have bought with you Gauls, Numidian cavalry, Treverian horsemen, Thracian peltasts, Celts of a hundred different peoples, Alpini and Iberians. I have not seen such a show of colour since we marched into Dacia, so many tongues heard in one army or such a variety of force. With these men, barbarians against barbarians, we shall expand the empires borders.”

After a slave, a young German girl with blonde hair and a full bosom, refilled my cup, I raised it high and shouted so that all could hear me.

“To the Emperor, long may he reign, and to the empire, the Gods preserve it for a thousand years.”

Little did any of them, a group of men well past their prime, old fools, one as old as seventy-four years, that I fought not for the Roman Empire. I did not seek to waste lives for such a small and meaningless thing, no. It was all for me, for the Gods, for they would see me the chieftain of a Germania united beneath my rule and I would sacrifice the lives of each and every man to achieve my aspirations.

When the spring came, the snows melting and passes opening to Batavian lands, I would make my forest foray into the heart of enemy domains. Then, for this, they would thank me.

Laenas the Liberator, Laenas the Merciful and Laenas the Great.



- B. M. Laenas

[Knonfoda]

"Should they share their fellow barbarians fate? Or should I be merciful? Borbrentas the Merciful, I hear it already..."

A very nice update, lets see how this mercenary army will fare out, and I like how you have basically made yourself a little kingdom in your province.

[McScottish]

"Should they share their fellow barbarians fate? Or should I be merciful? Borbrentas the Merciful, I hear it already..."

A very nice update, lets see how this mercenary army will fare out, and I like how you have basically made yourself a little kingdom in your province.

Well, some of the guys, like the Thracians and Numidians, were just sitting about in Gaul over the Rhine, so why not make use of them, eh?

Indeed, Borbrentas, on advice from multiple people, is going back to his tribal roots. His mum was Thracian, his grandfather is Dacian, his very own father was more barbarian than Roman, and now the Gods are telling him what to do. Powerful influences all round; of blood, of speech and of divine will.

He considers himself, now at least, to be just another tribal leader amongst a land of leaders, one who will unite the tribes into a fighting coalition under his sway. By spilling no Roman blood, and without using Imperial troops, he also takes the Emperor and his intervention out the way.

But, Borbrentas the Merciful...I like the sound of that.

[Ybbon]

At some point, assuming Borbrentas carves out his kingdom, he will begin to rub against the Romans - ah well, long time down the line yet, onto defeating the Batavians and other tribes first..

[McScottish]

At some point, assuming Borbrentas carves out his kingdom, he will begin to rub against the Romans - ah well, long time down the line yet, onto defeating the Batavians and other tribes first..

You're not wrong, but he should be fine, as long as he submits to Roman rule. Once that goes out the window...well...we shall see.

[Mr. Bean Laden]

Oh, what greatness, our brave hero became quite confident in his skills, let's just hope he doesn't get too confident, the Romans don't like competition when it comes to ruling, so I hope he has a good plan for the future!

[McScottish]

Oh, what greatness, our brave hero became quite confident in his skills, let's just hope he doesn't get too confident, the Romans don't like competition when it comes to ruling, so I hope he has a good plan for the future!

He has indeed, as for a good plan...eeeeerrrr...still working on that one!

[Boustrophedon]

Great stuff mate I'm still following but just haven't been able to comment or rep much. Keep up the good work

[Knonfoda]

"Is it... done, McScottish?"

[McScottish]

"No, Comrade Knonfoda. It has only begun."

Seriously though, I bet your indulgence a tad longer, I'll get at least one update up today, you have my word.

[Knonfoda]

I'm glad you got the reference, I can't wait! I need to see some Germans getting their brains bashed in! That, and I really want to see how Borbrentas is going to handle 'kingship'!

[McScottish]

Up And At Them – Summer 631 A.U.C

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

“These...are the men I shall be leading into battle?”

Geminus smiled at me, the sides of his eyes creasing, showing a man who had laughed through his entire life so far, a man of much mirth and humour.

“Yes sir, these are the warriors that shall win our battle against the Cherusci.”

I turned slowly to look at the assembled figures, stood in rows and rows of fully armed and protected warriors, not soldiers, with their eyes looking straight ahead and their weapons and armour polished to a perfect gleam as the sun rose to the midday position and shone down on them, Geminus and I.

“Gauls,” I questioned, my tone not altogether friendly, “you bring me Gauls, influenced for decades by Roman ways, to help me gain a united Germania?!”

It was the turn of the eldest amongst us, my Grandfather and adopted sire, to step forward, clad once more in his long travelling robes and garb made of furs, placing a hand gently on my shoulder and a smile such as that of my African subordinate crossing his face as well.

“Young Borbrentas,” he began, his voice alone lending me some form of calm, “let us see this more as a boon than a curse. Surely the Gods favour you with these men, Insubrians, Cenomanii, Ligurians and more. They speak Latin and take orders from Roman-raised chieftains, but these men, unlike their brethren closer to our borders, have been less tamed by our peaceful presence in their lands and, like the hard folk of the Alpini and the Samnites who remain deep in the heart of the Apennines, fight with a purpose and ferocity lacking in our more organised cohorts of regulars.”

His words made sense, and I mentioned as much, thanking him for his ever-wise council and turning my gaze, that had drifted from them briefly, once more to look upon those bodies, those lives, that the Gods had given unto me so that I may use them and bend them and their purpose to my own.

Marcus was right, of course. The men standing before me, their brightly coloured raiment and finely crafted adornments telling of their foreign origins, their long and drooping moustaches and flint-like eyes of grey and blues, each was a man raised not in the soft-handed world of a Roman peace but in the hard ways of their forefathers, it was only a shame that like their forefathers they had never forgotten their hatred of Roma or the one who leads it.

Indeed, these men, these Gauls, only fought for me because I pledged no loyalty to Roma as long as I was conquering these lands. We would do things as the tribes of old, as the tribes of Germania and its dark forests continued to do, that everything Roman, from their culture to their dress to their food, would be kept out of these lands until I saw fit to instil them.

Each of these barbarians, my fellows, had volunteered to march over the Alps and join me here so that they could be “free”, not just in my eyes but in their own eyes as well.

For they would be settled on Cherusci lands after we had pacified that people, where they would intermingle with the women-folk and place upon them children, and they would tell those children of the magnanimity and wisdom of the one who bought them to Germania and ruled over them still, the great Borbrentas Marcus Laenas, a figure who would live on in memory and spirit long after his body had decayed.

“One more thing, Geminus,” I said loudly enough for all to hear, “you keep these men away from the women after the siege. They may loot and they may plunder, but the people are to remain unharmed, and any prisoners of war to be bought before me. Any man caught, or known, to have gone against my orders will be executed on the spot.”

**********

“So, you shall be king of all the Germani?” Chuckled Alina, as I gently brushed some of her hair from her face, holding her close and feeling the warmth of her body infuse the very spirit of my own, “yes, my love, the Gods will it to be so and no-one is above the Gods,” I felt then her arms, already ringed about my torso, tighten a fraction and her head press to my chest, “we are only just met, not yet joined, and you must go?” I could feel her shaking a little, pulling her away to look straight into her eyes and smiled genuinely at what I beheld, “do not fear for me, we shall be joined upon my return from this campaign and our children shall continue the line for a hundred years or more.”

This was how I left her, no other words of love or comfort between us, the women of this land trained to be just as hard as the men, even if their duties were dissimilar. She knew that this was what I had to do, it was the will of the divine, and I was but a mere mortal enthralled in their power. No one could ever divide our beating hearts, but this was what I was born to do.

It was on the last evening before we departed, sitting alone in my chamber, having given orders for Subulo and Varus to take half of the force into Batavian lands and bring victory to Roma, though I believe they would just as easily have done it in my name, that Marcus came to me bearing a gift wrapped in cloth.

“Borbrentas, come,” he spoke as he gestured me toward him, “move aside the cloth and take hold of your heritage with both hands.”

Uneasily, for I am cautious by nature and was even then, I shifted aside the thick material to behold a weapon of war fit for Ares or Tiwaz himself.

It was a falx, the native weapon of the Dacii, around four and a half feet in its entirety, the finely wrought blade an arched piece of metal over about two feet in length, attached to a handle of smooth and sturdy wood three foot or so long. The handle was inlaid with the sharp Latin script, reading “Borbrentas Marcus Laenas, warrior and king, blessed of the Gods,” clearly carved delicately by my adopted fathers hand, the blade too being a most excellent piece of smithery and, I imagined, able to cut through flesh and armour with ease.

“The falx, as named by enemies anyway, not used as commonly by my people as you would imagine, the sica being a much better proposition against armoured adversaries like the Romani. I know you have seen them before. Here in Germania, however, less armour is used, as well as the fighting skills of the Romans lacking in our tribal enemies. I shall teach you how to user this effectively as we go, and how to keep away from harm before it can reach you.”

Carefully I picked the weapon up, giving it a practice swing about my chamber, it was a two-handed weapon and I would learn that it was capable of destroying an opponent with relative ease, if used correctly.

“It is a mighty gift, father, and I except it gladly.”

The aged Dacian, his tattooed visage creasing into a smile, gave a brief nod of his head and stood to leave, stopping as he was about to disappear into the corridor.

“I have made contact with certain members of the Bastarnae, some willing to travel to Germania and fight alongside us and for yourself. Who knows, you may be seeing more of these weapons before long.”

**********

Berengar and his shorter, less muscled and more Roman-influenced, sibling were waiting for me as I strode across the settlements central square. They both looked ready and prepared to march to war, each carrying their own rations, their traditional long-knives at their waists and both spear and shield held ready for combat. Each gave me a nod and smile as I passed, the larger of the pair casting an appraising eye over my latest gift and having a wink returned by my grandfather as he passed.

Waiting patiently for me, holding the bridal of my mount, was Praetor and Senator Geminus, every inch the provincial Roman soldier, from the leather cuirass to the ivory-hilted gladius. His eyes followed me as I made my way toward him, his hand reaching out to pass me the reigns of my horse, before rising up to stop me from mounting right away.

“I know what you are doing, Marcus,” he whispered into my ear, leaning forward until his mouth was right next to my auditory orifice, “this will end badly and I only follow you because I feel compelled to as a soldier and as a friend.”

For a moment I shifted my head to look at him, staring straight into his eyes and smiling, before it was my turn to speak.

“I an thankful for your opinions, my dark-skinned brother, but if you ever decide to cross me you shall find yourself as dead as Hannibal. Ride with me, fight for me, but if you ever wish to leave my company or presence after you see what I am truly about here, you need only ask it.”

We left then, orders yelled in Gallic and Latin both, the sound of stomping feet like the sweet strains of Apollo's lyre to my ears, soon the Cherusci would be nothing but a distant memory and after that the idea of a unified Germania would come to pass into the realms of reality.

I, Borbrentas Marcus Laenas of Thrace, was chosen by the Gods of the German people as their divine messenger and the unifier of their people.

No mere mortals, not chieftains, nor princes...nor Emperors would stop me.



- B. M. Laenas

[Ybbon]

And so he starts on a very dangerous game I think.