4/24/2023
Hey guys, it's been so long...
Can't explain how much joy it brought me in these years to know that I did this piece of writing, and people were interested in this content.
I'm picking writing back up again, older, hopefully wiser, and with a much deeper appreciation for technology and Late Roman History. Made this tribute work... I hope anyone who come across this will enjoy
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0GlkxTnE1yY
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Game-play are only used for cinematic purposes, as for now I am using Constintine rise of Christianity but I am planning to switch over to Attila once I find a nice enough Retexture.
It is 406 and the Rhine has frozen. Germanic Migration is on its full peak and the Armies of Alaric, while officially in the service of the Eastern Roman Empire, is ravaging Italy. Our story begins here. In the Tall towers of Londinium, Britannia. Far from the Germanic Front and loose from the Grips of Ravenna.
"They say the common coin bares the mark of the Empire. The coin of today is cheap, thin, and weak. It's boarders rounded by crude lines with contaminated silver spilled in and out of boundary.But this is the Coin we have today, and this is the currency we live with. So no, we cannot abandon it." - Marcus Dumarius, when asked if Britannia should have its own currency.
CHAPTER I. The Plans Of Our Betters
The breezes carrying the chilled wind of the north seas swept down the high walls of Londinium. Its people were the same as the days of Constantine: Strong, independent and fierce. But the waves of time have not been kind to Britannia. The Legions of Britannia and its leader’s no longer enjoy the warmth they remembered as they carried Constantine into Rome. They are now condemned as traitors.
For refusing the governorship of Praetorian Perfects appointed by the Empire, and taking the defense of Britannia into his own hands, Comes Britanniarum, Magister Militum per Britannia, the famed commander Marcus Dumarius was labeled as an usurper. And for not providing effective leadership against Pictish raids, his lieutenant, Gratian, slid his throat and took power.
Hence was the relationship between leaders and followers in Britannia. A dead ruler is better than an unfit one.
Flavius Claudius was the Dux of Britanniarum, commander of all northern defenses. But it was only a title Gratian gave him because he controlled Eboracum, the largest walled city of the north, second in Britannia only to Londinium. Londinium is the heart of Britannia. The port city that harbors the north seas supports its very heart beat. Tradesmen from Gaul and Hispania frequent the City and served almost as Gratian’s only legitimacy.
And Just as Britannia was the edge of the Roman world, Londinium was Britannia’s edge to civilization. The city is the last one on Britannia that still has a forum. Not the empty lots dotted with weeds in Eboracum or Deva. Londinium still has the life to fill its mosaic floorings. Its people still has the strength to keep up with Fashion from the Eternal City. And its garrison strong, its walls thick to remind the people that Britannia is still Roman.
Still Roman…the one thing people of Britannia desperately cling on. But the Roman world does not look to them favorably. Britannia put Constantine on the throne and her legions earned him his title “The Great.” But her people bore the price. Ever since Constantine’s sons got overthrown, Britannia became the birth of Usurpers and fractured into chaos. Cities became personal fiefs of commanders who skirmished among themselves for petty difference, all unwilling to break the balance of power.
Collectively, all the warlords rank high and low had to pay respect to whoever controls Londinium. Which being the largest city, can afford the largest army. Gratian had that exactly in mind when he took the city during the power vacuum. Now, after months of campaign he has established hegemony in south east of the Provence, with the rest of Britannia acknowledging his power.
“There is no way we are crossing the channel.” Gratian leaned forward and pointed to the map laid on the table. “What do you think the garrisons will do when they see fifteen thousand men crossing from Britannia to the shores of Normandy?”
“Join us of course; the Gallic field armies are in Italy.” Claudius replied without hesitation, “Alaric and his Gothic bands are roaming outside the gates of Ravenna as we speak. We are the only ones who can protect Gaul from the Barbarians who crossed the frozen Rhine.”
“Alaric is a mare pawn, it’s the East Stilicho’s worried about.” Gratian replied as he walked around the table, his eyes fixed on the map, grinning when he shifted his eyes to the East, “Arcadius thinks he’s so cleaver using Alaric to weaken the West, but this will only make Stilicho start a preemptive war.”
“I have a list of twenty fortified Colonias sacked up to six days ago. After the barbarians overrun Gaul we will be cut off. The olives might run out first but it will be our heads rolling in the end. We will be on the edge of the world with our backs against the ocean.” Claudius urged, “We should cross the channel and aid the Limitanei in Gaul. Or risk forever departed from the Known world.”
“Dear Flavius, you are much overreacting. But I am sure Stilicho and his puppet Honorius thank you for thinking about their realm.” Gratian finally looked up
“Don’t toy with me Gratian, get to the point.” Claudius sneered in annoyance.
“Yes the Rhine front has been overrun but the barbarian will never cross deep into Gaul. Stilicho is warring the East. He will be willing to pay an enormous price to Foederatize those Barbarian Tribes. Stilicho only needs to win a few skirmishes for the Persians to come sniff the East for weakness. Then, when Arcadius finally feel the heat of a two front war, he will sue for peace. Stilicho will then use the money the East pays to settle those Barbarians and replace the troublesome Franks.”The Franks were Barbarian allies settled within the Western Empire. They were the Foederati who fight besides the Roman Legions. But their ambitious leaders often looked to Rome with envious eyes. And do not hesitate to proclaim their own puppet Emperor.
“But twenty Colonias in two months, with that speed they will raze Gaul before Stilicho wins his peace.” Claudius wasn’t convinced.
“And I bet those settlements are all from along the Rhine!” Gratian exclaimed as he puts his arm around Claudius and leads him to the door, “relax my friend, Stilicho has the whole situation under control. And now we must too play our part in his plan.”
“To do nothing.”
“Exactly,” Gratian signaled his guards to open the door, but his face darkened, “Stilicho is a cunning man; he earned his place amongst the greatest with his sheer will. Who would think the Vandal leading Theodosius’s horse will be the Master of his Emperor. We are nothing but pawn upon his hand, mere checkers on his Board! But it’s a vision we do not have the power to change…”
The atmosphere outside the war chamber was tense. Two dozen of Gratian’s men gathered facing off against a dozen of Claudius’s bodyguards. But as soon as the two warlords stepped out, with Gratian still having his arms around Claudius, the men relaxed, but still eyeing each other with hostility as their hands shadowed their side arms.
“But for now we must trust each other, and watch our backs, so when the time comes we won’t find ourselves weakened by senseless infighting.” Gratian remarked with a sneer as he observed the soldiers.
“Of course Imperator.” Claudius replied with a grin. But there was nothing friendly in his eyes, “To keep being petty kings in the edge of the world, and not interfere with his plans. With that, we get our peace. And Stilicho gets his Pax Romana.”
“Yes, yes. So, for all our sakes, convince the others to support my decision. And then: Pax Romana, and peace for Britannia.”
Claudius turned without a salute, and his cape snapped behind him. His guards sneered and Gratian, and followed behind.
“Imperator, this boor dare show you such little respect; allow me to go forth to capture him, and I will make him beg mercy at your feet.” At soon as Claudius left, one of Gratian’s officers voiced out his dissatisfaction.
“Let the runt dance to his own tunes, I still need him to hold off the Picts. Remember how Dumarius died?” Gratian laughed as he turned back to the war chamber.