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Cidellus By Septim Introduction For three hundred forty-nine years, the entire human race was enslaved. Having migrated from a dying continent, they avoided death and instead found themselves under the yoke of the tyrannical elves. The tall fair-skinned elves believed themselves to be superior to humans due to their ability to use and manipulate magical forces. However, in the year 349 AA (After-arrival), the humans rebelled. Sarvalai of Serilon, a young, intelligent, and fierce human, led an uprising against the elves that grew to envelop the entire continent. The elves, who had become unfit and weak, numbered only five-hundred thousand. The human slaves numbered almost five million. Sarvalai would accept no surrender from his former masters, and he drove them to absolute extinction. After the war, Sarvalai recognized the need for an organized government and established the Serillian Empire, with himself as Emperor. For forty years he reigned, and his reign was a constructive one. He established the capital of the Serillian Empire, Seris, and proclaimed the year the Empire was founded as 0 AF (After-foundation). The men that had acted as his lieutenants during the war became the patriarchs of Serillia’s twelve high noble families. Slavery was, naturally, outlawed and Sarvalai’s reign was peaceful and prosperous. Emperor Sarvalai the Magnificent died in 40 AF, and his son Grevarai took the throne and crown. The reigns of Sarvalai’s son and grandson were both peaceful and prosperous; however, in 131 AF, Bertrum the Zealous took the throne. He led a series of religious persecutions against the followers of Aldros, and in 135 AF a man named Matthias of Allus led a massive migration to lands outside the Serillian Empire. He called it the In 204 AF, General Kordolan Marifos rebelled against the Empire. He was crushed in the Battle of Erein, but managed to escape. In 210 AF, he returned to Serillia at the head of a massive barbarian army. After crushing several Serillian armies, he fought against the Imperial Army. After ten bloody days of warfare, a peace treaty was made. The terms: Marifos would receive a large amount of land south of Serillia and north of Tasidian and Marifos would pay tribute to the Serillian Empire for thirty years. In the year 267, inspired by the rise of the In the year 295 AF, Marcus II ascended to the throne after the death his father, Emperor Marcus I the Pious. Marcus turned out to be a terrible ruler, and the frontier governors rebelled. After twenty years of war, the Serillian Empire had lost all but the The Allied Governors intended to make a united government, but were unable to agree on anything. After a while, they began warring amongst themselves. They are collectively referred to as the independent principalities. Due to the border changes, making an up-to-date political map of the area was impossible. The year is now 354 AF, and Emperor Numerius I (b. 321, r. 345 - present) is the reigning Emperor. Seris, Fifteenth day, fourth month, 354 AF Her body was lifeless, her face in a state of perpetual shock and sorrow, but only a few hours ago it had been a face of happiness and innocence. A puddle of blood had leaked from her multiple stab wounds, and her clothes were torn, though somebody had pulled them back over her. A young, well-groomed, clean shaven man was above her, yelling in a mixture of sadness and rage, his tunic stained with the woman’s blood. Althea Nurella Cidellus had been raped and murdered not twenty minutes before, and already the body was pale. Gaius Cidellus knelt next to his sister’s body in an alleyway off of one of Seris’s many wide avenues, and a crowd had formed. They watched the man, and each scream caused their hearts to ache. They were the screams of a man who had lost everything. After a while, he got up and turned to the crowd. *** Spurius Salvanius strolled casually into the Salvanius Villa relishing his latest conquest. He had a deep bite-wound on his arm where she had bitten into him as he had ripped her clothes off, though it had bled little. He was the son of Cassius Salvanius, a wealthy and powerful patrician. Spurius had been infamous for his lustful and overindulgent lifestyle, but Spurius was not worried in the least about the possible repercussions or consequences. He layed down on a luxurious cushioned mattress in the spacious living room of his father’s villa and hailed a servant. “Wine, now!” ordered Spurius. Cassius walked forward and kicked the elevated bed-couch over, causing Spurius to roll to the floor. “Are you drunk? It’s not even sunset yet!” yelled Cassius, examining the empty pitcher, “Servant! Cold water, now!” *** The Cidellus Villa in Seris was an ancient building. Built in the time of Emperor Grevarai, it was a prime example of old Serillian architecture. It was a single story, with a large pool in the courtyard. There were four bedrooms, a study, a large main room with several couches, lavatories, a kitchen, a dining room, and a reinforced room which currently acted as an armory. However, they had no servants. The Cidellus family had long believed in getting things yourself, and disapproved of laziness. The villa was every inch a nobleman’s villa, and at one point Gaius had been proud of it. That time had long since passed, and now all he could think of was the coming trial, as Spurius Salvanius had been pinned as the perpetrator. The case was to be presented a week from Althea’s death, and it had been two days. The tribunal would make their judgment, whether it would be a fair one or not was unknown to Gaius. The evidence was overpowering and the witnesses many. There was no way Spurius would get away with it. *Two days later* “Spurius!” roared a voice outside the Salvanius Villa, “Spurius, get your ass out here, now!” After thirty-five minutes of yelling Spurius’s name, Gaius Cidellus got his audience. The gates of the Salvanius Villa opened, and Spurius Salvanius stepped out to meet him. Spurius continued walking, and Gaius continued yelling for the next hour before being removed from the neighborhood by city prefects. *Three days later* A Serillian trial was a swift procedure, and there was little argument allowed amongst the accuser and the accused. That was a matter that was expected to be addressed before the trial. A tribunal was a body that would act as the judges and the jury, and were supposed to study the evidence extensively before the trial. There were three tribunes on each tribunal and their word was law. The room that the trial took place in was small, and only a desk, three seats, and two rugs furnished the room. The accuser and accused were meant to stand on the red and blue rugs respectively while the tribunal would sit behind the desk. “My name is Gaius Manius Cidellus. My sister was violently raped and murdered by this man a week ago and I demand justice!” roared Gaius, a dark rage surfacing inside him, “This trial seems to be an insult, if anything! It is quite clea-” Spurius, as opposed to Gaius, had made every effort to prepare himself for the trial. His posture was straight, his gestures well-rehearsed, and his tone controlled. “What witnesses do you speak of?” asked the speaker. “He is guilty, and everybody who saw him knows it! His father must be covering it up, his father bribed the witnesses!” yelled Gaius. “Silence, Salvanius!” yelled one of the tribunes. *Two weeks later*
It had been two weeks since the trial, and Gaius had eaten little. His once normal build was now one of an emaciated slave, and the hygienic habits that he had less than a month ago were virtually non-existent. The bath he had taken on the day of his sister’s death had been his last, and he smelled terrible. His skin was suffering, and it now had a waxy quality about it. He was barely recognizable from the man who, three weeks before, had cried and yelled over his sister’s violated corpse. His thoughts were haunted by memories of his sister. He would often hear her voice calling his name in the darkness, and he would often see her when his eyes closed. He got up from his kneeling position, walked into the dining room, and stared, as he often did, at his sister’s seat. He was the last of the Cidelli, a line descended from Vardum. Vardum of Cidemor had been an excellent swordsman, and had served as the head of Sarvalai’s Royal Guard during the war against the Elves. Gaius had at one point been proud of that, but he no longer cared about anything but revenge. All he could think of was watching Spurius Salvanius die slowly for his crimes. Vengeance would come soon; very soon, that much he was sure of. Then his sister’s could rest in peace and honor, and maybe he could learn to enjoy life again. *** The streets of Seris were almost empty at night due to the harsh curfew put in place in response to late-night crimes; you could only be out on the streets if you had a cart, wagon, or pack-animal. However, Spurius seemed quite able to walk around at his leisure without any of those things, even being seen by prefects. The unfairness of the law fueled the anger inside him as he shadowed his sister’s rapist, taking care not to be seen by the corrupt prefects. He had a dagger at his side, and was dressed in the torn and disgusting remains of the toga he had worn to the trial. Spurius began whistling a tune, making it easier for Gaius to follow him due to the background noise. Spurius was approaching the point where Gaius would make his move, he had to act. Gaius continued to creep closer, slower, feigning uncertainty and indecisiveness, his face displaying a question: “Should he approach?” When Spurius got within range, Gaius pulled a hidden dagger out of his ragged toga and smashed Spurius over the head with the hilt. He fell to the ground, his face frozen in shock. Gaius picked him up under the armpits, dragged him over to a cart that he had arranged for, threw him in the back, covered him, and began pulling it back towards his estate. Despite the fact that he had eaten little, he possessed a wiry strength fueled by the desire for retribution. Nothing would stop him, nothing. They soon reached the Cidellus villa, and Gaius pulled the cart into the courtyard. He shut the gates, locked them, and pulled the blanket off of Spurius. He stared at him for a few seconds, staring at the face of the man; it was still frozen in shock. Althea’s face had been the same way in death. Gaius began dragging him into his house, hatred and excitement building. The reinforced room that had earlier acted as an armory had been rearranged, and now had a large table inside with shackles bolted on. There was also another smaller table that held a variety of tools, including pliers, knives, scissors, hammers, nails, needles, and glass tubes. A large bag of salt also rested upon the tool table. Gaius had never tortured a man in his life, but two weeks of constant meditation was a long time to think of methods. Gaius placed Spurius’s hands and legs into the shackles and his head into a special brace. He held down Spurius’s torso with straps and waited nearly a half hour for him to regain consciousness. “Where am I?” asked Spurius at first, then he looked around, “Where am I!?” Muffled screams came from Gaius’s torture chamber that night, and for the next week, and yet none escaped the villa. On the seventh day of torture, Spurius Salvanius died. His body was barely recognizable, as it was so bruised, cut, and mutilated. The teeth were missing, as were the fingernails and eyeballs. Gaius was worried that Cassius wouldn’t recognize his own son, but his hopes were high. *** In an alley opposite the Salvanius Villa, a yell was heard. A crowd gathered around the body, but nobody could identify the corpse. Cries of “Barbaric!” and “Who could do such a thing?” were heard from the crowd as they waited for the prefects to with a meat-cart and take the body away. Nobody had seen the man who had left it there, but the body had obviously not gotten there of its own power as the man’s legs and arms had been broken. Suddenly, the crowd parted and Patriarch Cassius Salvanius of the Salvanii stepped forward, looking at the body. Gaius, along with most of the crowd, left the alley. His revenge was complete. The man who had raped his sister was dead after a week of unbearable pain, and the man who had deprived him of justice now had a dead son and would have no justice. It seemed like equal punishment to Gaius, and he now felt free of the weights that had held his mind for the last month. His sister had been avenged, and now he could finally put it behind him. He would miss her, certainly, but he would not let it destroy him. For what seemed like the first time, he noticed that he smelled terrible, he noticed the disgusting filth that had accumulated in his hair, he noticed the greasy facial hair on his face, and he noticed the painful skin irritations that had developed all over his body. He began walking towards the bathhouse with hygienic intentions. | ||||
[[OOC: These are maps that I forgot to post in the above post. They should've accompanied the introduction.
The Heartland peninsula as of 354 AF:
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Seris, Twenty-fifth day, fifth month, 354 AF The irritations that had developed were now eradicated, though it had taken twelve days of good hygiene to do so. His hair was clean once more, and his beard trimmed down to a respectable length. His fingernails and toe-nails had also grown quite a bit, and he had cut them too down to a reasonable length. He was hygienic once more, and he could concentrate on another far more complicated goal than the revenge of his sister. If the Serillian Courts had been clean and free of corruption in the first place, he would not have needed to take revenge. His sister would have been avenged by the law, rather than the efforts of a vengeful sibling. Taking revenge on the individual judges would do nothing, for they would be replaced by judges with similar levels of greed. The weed had to be pulled at the roots, or else it would grow back. Gaius intended to pull corruption out by the root, but in order to do that he needed power. Power could not be gained on the senate, as it was merely a powerless body designed to make the plebs think they had a say. The Patrician Council had a great deal of influence, but that was available only to patricians and not to equestrians. The Serillian legion, a military force consisting of nearly 100,000 men, was the only place an equestrian could hope to gain real power. The independent principalities had recently been weakened severely by a large plague, and the other nations had quarantined the independent principalities as a result. There had been few plague victims in Serillia, Bertrol, Marfor, and Tasidian, and the villages that had fallen to the plague had their populations killed, their bodies burnt, and their buildings burnt to the ground. Desperate times had called for desperate measures, though they were horrifying and cruel. In 4 AF, Sarvalai had created the equestrian class to which the Cidellus family belonged with the goal of creating a “horseman class”. There had been 100 original equestrian families with around 12 members each. By 354 AF, due to breeding and offshoot families, there were around 1000 equestrian families. The equestrians, from the 350 census, numbered 60,000. However, many of the equestrian families could not be told apart from plebeian families. Only 98 families had enough wealth to support a villa, and only 19 of those were the original equestrian families. Gaius Manius Cidellus was proud of his lineage, but none of his family had served in the cavalry since his great-grandfather’s time. The thought of leading a charge of cavalry into enemy lines excited Cidellus. He would do well in the cavalry, though it would take nearly a year of training; six months for the standard legionnaire training, and another six months for cavalry training. It would be grueling, hard training, but in the end he would be a soldier; the first step on the staircase of power. Fifth day, eighth month, 355 AF The year of training had been hell for most, but easy for Gaius. His mind was not on gold, or glory, or commendation; it was on power, the power to pull the weed of corruption and restore justice to the law. He was up the first step, with many more to go. War had been declared on several of the independent principalities, and the other principalities had quickly declared war on the Serillian Empire in defense of their fellow Princes. Ten legions, or sixty thousand troops, were being devoted to the war. Six thousand of those men were equestrian horsemen, armed with their spears and swords. They were protected by the same armor that legionnaires wore, segmenta armor. They also used a longer version of the gladius, the legionnaire’s short thrusting sword, called the spatha. Finally, each equestrian horseman held a long, round shield which was simply called the cavalry shield. He had been assigned to the fourteenth legion, which consisted of 3,000 legionnaires, 1,000 archers, 1,500 light infantrymen, and 500 horsemen. When war was declared, the fourteenth legion was mobilized for war and left Marcus Serillus born 323 AF, was one of the youngest generals the Serillian Empire had ever employed. He was also one of the most effective generals the Serillian Empire had ever employed, although a true test of his generalship would come in the coming wars. It would take the fourteenth legion forty days to march to the Great Northern Wall, and it would probably take ten more days for the other legions to arrive and prepare for battle. It would be another fifty days at the very least before Gaius would see any combat, and that was even doubtful. The enemy commanders, unless they were reckless or stupid, would not ambush the far larger invasion force as they came out fresh from behind their massive stone wall guarded by thousands of archers. If they were to stand a chance, it would be a war of attrition. The independents would attempt to cut off their supply lines, launch ambushes, and would probably employ scorched-erus strategies. It would be a tough war, despite their numerical advantage, better training, and more sophisticated logistics, but they would be victorious. Berunsdale, Principality of Validon Twenty-ninth day, ninth month, 355 AF The three-day advance through the Validon-Mordiom Gate went off without a hitch as 60,000 men crossed into Validon, starting one of the largest invasions in Serillian history. To lessen the effects of attrition, Serillus split the army up into three parts. Marshal Marcus Cnaeus Serillus would command the First Army, General Sarvalai Decius Karallus would command the Second Army, and General Lucius Marinus Torenus would command the Third Army. Sarvalai Karallus, named after the legendary first Emperor of Serillia and hero of humanity, was forty-six years old. His black hair and beard were graying, and he was short in stature. However, he was a good warrior in his own right and a decent enough general. Lucius Marinus Torenus, 53, was the brother of Tiberius Marinus Torenus, Patriarch of the Torenus family. He was a wise and valorous man, and he respected his soldiers. However, he was often regarded as a soft judge. Gaius had been assigned to the First Army under Marcus Serillus. Gaius was part of the second cavalry squadron of the fourteenth legion, and he eagerly awaited a chance to win glory and fame. That chance came near the large town of *** Logistics and the preparations soldiers made before battle were often regarded as more important than combat prowess. They made use of many of Sarvalai’s logistical breakthroughs, such as the constructing supply dumps, the usage of purchasing agents, and the usage of soldiers as well as baggage trains to carry equipment. They would also make sure to have a camp built every night, complete with entrenchments, a palisade wall, and sentry-posts. However, their enemies would make use of many of the same systems and tactics as Serillia, as the independent principalities had only been independent since 295 AF. Once the actual battle was to take place, the soldiers would eat breakfast and begin deconstructing the camp, loading the gear onto the baggage trains. The cavalry had to take part in this too, but Gaius didn’t mind at all. He used the camp as much as everybody else, and it wouldn’t be fair for the equestrians not to do their part. After the baggage train was out of the camp, the camp would be burnt to the ground. This was to prevent the enemy from occupying it at a later date. They would then get in marching formations and march to the battlefield while the light cavalry engaged in scouting operations. Both armies would be in position, and a phase known as skirmishing would begin as skirmishers began throwing their light javelins and archers began volleying arrows. The skirmishers and archers would be deployed at the front of the formations to allow for maximum range. Once the skirmishing ended and the armies were getting close to each other, the skirmishers would retreat behind the heavy and light infantry. The infantry would then close the channels in their formations, forming a solid line. Before the infantry would charge, they would throw their javelins at the opposition. Intense fighting would then occur as the soldiers would butcher each-other in a battle line that could go for miles. During this time, the Serillian commanders would feed fresh troops into the battle and withdraw the wounded or exhausted soldiers from the fighting. At other times, both sides would withdraw for a short while. It would be during this fighting that the heavy cavalry would come into play. Their job would to move around the enemy and attack their flanks or rear in a wedge-like formation, breaking their ranks and causing great panic and confusion. However, most of the time they would encounter resistance in the form of spearmen or heavy cavalry, and would be forced to fight or flee and regroup rather than do their jobs.
The air was cold, and Gaius’s breath was visible. It was early morning, and frost had encased the dormant grass. Gaius was in his position with his squadron, and his commander was awaiting the signal to begin his maneuvers. The archers of the legion were standing in front, with the light infantrymen and the legionnaires behind them respectively. They were volleying arrows at the opposing army in what could be called skirmishing, and four squadrons of light cavalry were standing by in preparation for an attack. Gaius’s heart-rate was up, and his skin was tingling. He wanted to fight, he couldn’t wait. It was strange, as before the war he had thought himself a coward. Revenge for his sister’s death had not been an act of bravery; it had been an act of justice fueled by the desire for retribution. He was sure that any good person would attempt to do the same. Perhaps he was a coward, only real battle would tell. *** “Skirmishers, fall back!” roared a series of voices as the order relayed throughout the deployed army. The skirmishers ran back through the gaps in the infantry formation as the enemy infantry marched towards them in tortoise-shell formations. The tortoise-shell, sometimes called testudo, was a formation designed to withstand missile fire. The soldiers in the front would hold their shields forward, the soldiers behind their shields above their heads, and the soldiers on the side would aim their shields towards their left or right. The result was a box-like image. However, against melee and close-combat it was extremely ineffective due to the tightness of it, and the soldiers could only use it during advances. Once the skirmishers were falling back, the IP soldiers reverted back to normal square formations. The enemies were now yelling and charging with their swords raised above them and their shields out in front of them. The Serillians threw their javelins, and the IP soldiers did the same. Then, the enemies charged into the Serillians, and the intense melee began. “On me! Move!” yelled the cavalry commander after around thirty seconds as he charged forward on his horse, Gaius and the rest of the cavalry followed behind him. The rest of the cavalry was moving as well, except for two squadrons that were being used as defenses for the archers’ flanks. They circled around the melee, which was a mile long and a thousand feet thick, and saw the well-predicted light infantry standing behind the melee, guarding the archers and the rear. Gaius’s horse suddenly screamed, and he felt himself falling. His shield hit the ground at an angle, causing him to roll forward a few feet. He struggled to his feet a few seconds later and raised his shield, circling around. A soldier came at him with a spear, and Gaius raised his shield. The spear struck the shield with incredible force, and the point of the spear went two inches in. Gaius then moved his shield to the side and swung his blade into the soldier’s torso, causing him to scream in pain and fall to the ground, whimpering. He spun around again while pulling the spear out, trying to get oriented. There were people fighting all around him, but he could barely friend from foe. He stabbed at an engaged man in leather armor, and the man screamed in pain as Gaius’s spatha went between his ribs. Gaius pulled it out, causing the man to fall towards him. He then felt a force collide with his upper back. He turned around in time to block another such spear attack (the first one had been aimed at his neck) and stabbed at his attacker, only to have his sword blocked by a shield. The attacker dropped his spear and began to take out his gladius. However; he was stopped by a horseman, who cut his head partially off with a nice clean strike to the neck. The horseman kept going, and Gaius looked around. Reinforcements had arrived in the form of another squadron, and the light-infantrymen were being slaughtered. Gaius’s sword was covered in blood, and his armor had been sprayed with it during the melee. The horsemen continued riding, not taking a second look at any of the men on foot, and began attacking the nearly helpless and trapped archers. Gaius looked around and saw no riderless horses. However; he did see a large group of dismounted horsemen standing around idly like he was. Seeing a potential form of heavy infantry; he began yelling orders, despite the fact that he held no rank. Gaius took his wrongful place at the side (the Centurion’s position) and pointed his sword towards the archers. “Turn left ninety degrees!” ordered Gaius. The battle was over in twenty minutes due to the combined pressure from the infantry in the front, and the cavalry and improvised infantry from the back. The hammer-and-anvil strategy worked well, and the Battle of Berunsdale became the first battle of the war and the first Serillian victory. The Serillian Empire lost a total of 4,500 infantry, 300 heavy cavalrymen, 650 light cavalrymen, and 0 archers. The Independent Principalities lost a total of 23,000 infantry and 5,000 archers, with them not having any form of cavalry. *** The battle had ended an hour before, and General Marcus Serillus was pleased by the results. His strategy had worked, but one part of the battle had not been in his plans. After the initial charge into the light infantry guarding the archers, a dismounted equestrian had rallied the other dismounted cavalrymen and formed a large formation of heavy infantry. He had then used them to charge into the rear of the melee, causing an unknown number of casualties for the Independent Principalities. He had also fought bravely amongst his men, killing nearly fifteen men in single combat during the melee, and around five while on horseback. The man’s name had been Gaius Manius Cidellus, and Marcus Serillus saw quite a bit of himself in the man. Cidellus must have had the leadership ability to take charge, the charisma to get the other equestrians to follow him, and the tactical knowledge to get them into decent formations for the attack.. That alone made him valuable, and Serillus would be sure to commend him later. *** After several hours of marching to a suitable position, Serillus’s army set up camp. It took them around four hours, with part of the army standing watch in the unlikely event of an enemy attack. When the camp was set up, many of the soldiers began resting. *** Gaius Manius Cidellus, however, was not resting. He was celebrating, or was the source of celebration, anyway. Most of the men in the fourteenth legion’s cavalry wanted to meet him, and they spoke of his achievements as if they were something of legend. He had simply been doing what any good soldier would do: increasing the chances of allied victory. The men he had organized were also being celebrated, and they were making the tales as tall as they could. During the celebration, a man Gaius recognized as one of General Serillus’s camp messengers rode up to him and looked around before looking at Gaius. *** The command tent was not lavish as he had often suspected during his time as a civilian, though he guessed that the luxuriousness of the tent depended on the commander’s taste. Gaius guessed that General Serillus was an austere man, and he would be sure not to count on any form of a sense of humor. He stopped at the front flap leading into the tent, which was guarded by four Altorian Guards. The tent was barren except for a bed, a chest, an armor stand, a desk, a chair behind the desk, and a large table. On the table was a map, and on the map Gaius could see several arrows and circles, along with writing, which was obviously a campaign plan. Marcus Serillus was seated at his desk reading what looked like reports, and didn’t seem to notice Gaius enter. Gaius lowered his salute and loosened his posture, but kept his eyes on Serillus. Gaius returned to the celebration, which had died down a bit in his absence, and gave everybody the good news. There was even more celebration as the men of the second cavalry squadron attempted to suck up to their new commander, and Gaius merely smiled. He was another step closer to his goal and he knew, without a doubt, that he was no coward. | ||||
Veeeeeery good! Keep it up! | ||||
*** The war continued to drag on, and Gaius served his country well as a cavalry commander. He would lead the charges at the tip of the wedge formation, cutting and stabbing his way through the enemy lines. He was de-horsed often, but rarely injured with much more than a deep slash. He called it luck, but his men called it skill. He didn’t consider himself a great warrior, he considered himself a good leader who led by example. The next notable moment of Gaius’s career in the cavalry came during the Battle of Harburg Fields, almost two years after Gaius’s promotion after the Battle of Berunsdale. For two weeks, Serillus’s army had been pursuing an army under the command of General Varunai Caletus, one of the better commanders of the new Allied Principalities. Harburg Fields, Principality of Morvinoll Third day, sixth month, 357 AF The invasion of the Allied Principalities had gone well, and most of the major cities and towns in the north of the now allied nations were taken. Gaius had been made quite wealthy by the looting that they often engaged in after a siege, though he had little use for wealth on campaign, so he sold his treasures and had his money shipped back to a bank in Seris. Gaius was mounted on a flat plain not far from the infantry’s flanks; a spear in his right hand and a shield in his left. Several scars now covered his body where swords and spears had marked him, but he had miraculously survived his many battles relatively unscathed compared to many of the men in the legions. He was glad for this, but it could always change. He was reckless, and that increased his chances, but most of the time he took good risks that paid off. The skirmishers were running back now, and the infantry were marching forward towards the waiting AP legionnaires. Each and ever one of those soldiers had a name, family, history, and their own experiences, and yet Gaius only thought of them as “the infantry” and “the enemy”. It might’ve been a way for him to not go insane; thinking of them as numbers, but it still bugged him. The stopped and threw their javelins before charging forward, at which point the enemy threw their own javelins. Then the two forces clashed, and the heavy fighting began. “Charge!” yelled Gaius as he lowered his spear and began riding towards his enemies. His men hesitated, but followed. Gaius knew he could never outrun the lightly armored troops; he knew that they stood a better chance fighting. The outnumbered heavy cavalry crashed into the lightly armored but numerically superior force of light cavalry, with Gaius’s spear going through a light cavalryman’s torso. The anonymous enemy fell off his horse and Gaius let go of his amazingly still-intact spear. Gaius then blocked a lance-strike from another enemy on his shield. However; the lance went through his shield and nearly hit his lower chest, but it barely missed. However, due to his speed at which he was riding he was forced to let go of his shield or risk falling off his horse. He finally drew his spatha and parried an incoming lance from his right before slashing the hostile rider’s chest. He made sure to slash while on horseback, because a stab could cause the blade to go through and form a situation similar to what had happened with his shield. Two lances glanced off his armor, and he slashed one of the attackers with his spatha. The heavier armor of the heavy cavalry was proving valuable, but Gaius wondered if it would be enough of an advantage to gain them victory. He would find out; he would make a gamble. He continued fighting in the brutal battle between light cavalry and heavy cavalry, his sword cleaving through flesh and bone and parrying lances when possible. However; he wasn’t fighting for thirty seconds when a blunted lance struck him square in the chest and caused him to fly off his horse and onto the ground below, knocking the wind out of him and almost knocking him unconscious. He layed there for nearly thirty seconds, and as he got up he saw his men retreating and the light cavalry pursuing them. Both the enemies and the 2nd Cavalry Squadron thought him to be dead. Gaius’s horse had run off, but he was able to pick up his dropped sword, grab a nearby discarded shield, and stop a riderless horse. Once he had all three, he began to give chase. They rode along the treeline, with the light cavalry slowly gaining on the slower heavy cavalry. There was still more light cavalrymen, but not as large of a ratio as before. They were riding away from the battlefield, and Gaius would never let his men desert or flee. Gaius would not be able to yell orders over the noises around him, so he attracted attention the only other way he could: he yelled. He yelled as loud and as long as he could, and some of the light cavalry spun around to engage him. They charged at him, and Gaius turned around and began riding in the other direction; back towards the battlefield. He turned around, and beyond the light cavalry he saw the heavy cavalry giving chase. Gaius’s men either thought that the light cavalrymen were fleeing, or that they were going back to attack the melee fighters. Either one was bad, especially if they got charged with desertion. Gaius stopped, turned around, and charged into them with his shield raised. He blocked several strikes with his shield, several with his armor, and the rest caused cuts and gashes. Once he was through, he took of his helmet and raised it in the air. It took them nearly a minute to reach the battle, and it looked brutal. However, the enemy archers were already dead (at the hands of the other cavalry squadrons), and they were just starting the charge into the rear of the enemy formations. He continued riding, leading his men around the enemy formations. However; by the time he got there, the few enemies left were routing. The battle was over, and he had missed it all due to a damn ambush. *** There had been no mention made of the ambush for the rest of the time they spend checking the bodies and counting the dead. Afterwards, they walked to a suitable campsite and set up camp. While setting up, Gaius was called to see General Serilluc once again. “What in the hell happened!?” asked Marcus Serillus as Gaius walked through the tent-flap and saluted. Serillus was seated at his desk once again, but didn’t bother standing up this time. Marcus Serillus sat back in his chair, thinking. After nearly a minute, he looked up at Gaius. *** The Allied Principalities were crippled, but they kept resisting. The chances for Gaius to win glory were few and far between now, as most of the fighting consisted of skirmishes or small battles. However; on the second day of the fifth month in the year 258 AF, the second army was crushed at the Battle of Prenium. General Sarvalai Decius Karallus was killed in action, along with almost his entire army. The last remaining army of the Allied Principalities had been commanded by General Caius Lucilius Evodius, and he had suffered light casualties during the engagement. Marcus Serillus, shocked by this turn of events, began a march towards Prenium. The march would take ten days. Field near Prenium, Principality of Berunusia Sixteenth day, fifth month, 358 AF The legions were infected with pride and arrogance, and they naturally wanted justice for their fallen comrades. They believed themselves better than their fallen brothers. Gaius Cidellus watched from his position on the right flank of the army as the legionnaires and light infantry (now called auxilia) marched towards their enemies with revenge in their hearts. Revenge; that was a word Gaius understood well. Evodius was a skilled and cunning commander, and getting into battle with him was far more dangerous than usual. Serillus was a skilled commander as well; however, and Gaius felt that it would be an even match between the two generals. They threw their javelins and charged, and the butcher’s work began as soldiers hacked and tore each other apart, screaming in ecstasy and bloodlust as they did so. The archers volleyed arrows at each other, and the skirmishers stood near the back in case they were needed. Gaius watched from the right flank, and felt sorrow for once. He questioned his cause for a moment in his heart before hearing somebody yell. Gaius turned his head to look, and saw several squadrons of light cavalry come out of the forest nearby followed by several squadrons of heavy cavalry. They quickly overwhelmed the men on the left flank. To the west there was only a large field, so there was little chance of a surprise attack coming from there. Gaius was glad, but he quickly rallied his men. His horsemen took their positions behind him with Gaius once again becoming the tip of the spear. Some civilizations questioned the commander being the spear-tip, but Gaius knew the advantages. He could effectively lead his men in a charge and he could boost morale by being the first in. The drawback was, obviously, the high risk of death. Gaius had managed to beat the odds thus far, and hoped he would be able to in the future. The second turned out to be true as no reinforcements came, and General Serillus ordered a withdrawal. As Gaius rode, he noticed his men behind him. He slowed down, and turned to look at them all. His trick had worked, and they had been guilted into following him. *** The battle ended thirty minutes later, with General Serillus himself leading the 2nd squadron in pursuing the routing enemies. General Caius Lucilius Evodius had been captured during the battle, and Marcus Serillus executed him personally in front of his men. With his death, the last sophisticated AP resistance was over. They walked a considerable distance away from the battlefield and set up camp. ***
“Gaius Manius Cidellus,” said General Serillus, “I have quite a debt to repay you. I have spoken to your men; I know what you did. Your actions saved the battle, and saved a great many lives, including my own. You will be promoted for this, I can assure you. You may become a legate, or maybe even a general. I don’t know; it is my brother’s call.” Marcus reached under his desk and pulled an ornate gold-hilted spatha from underneath it. He pulled the blade from its sheath (causing his bodyguard to look in through the tent flap) and let Gaius examine it. Gaius took it in his hand (causing the vigilant bodyguard to stare with suspicion) and balanced it. It was well-balanced, and it was a fine sword. *** The war soon ended, with the Allied Principalities becoming a non-militant vassal state to the Serillian Empire. They were forced to pay large tributes, and also forced to give men of fighting age to the Serillian Empire as auxiliaries. Several hostages were also taken from each Principality’s Royal Family. Gaius was awarded the Civic Crown, Serillia’s second-highest military award, for personally saving General Marcus Serillus from certain death. He was also promoted to the position of legate, with quick promotion to general being hinted at by General Serillus. Serillus’s triumphal parade was a spectacular display. Gold, armor, weapons, silver, jewels, crowns, and other piles of wealth were dragged through the main streets of Seris on carts as Marcus Serillus rode behind them in ornate armor on a gold-rimmed chariot. Behind him marched his infantry, and behind them marched his cavalry. Gaius Cidellus opted to ride with the 2nd cavalry squadron rather than with the other legates. The parade ended with a massive feast, followed by executions of former AP soldiers. It was a triumph for the history texts, no doubt. | ||||
...keep going. I know you have more. | ||||
[[OOC: Comments? =D]]
Seris, Ninth day, third month, 359 AF It had been months since the end of the war, and still he thought about it. During the war the thoughts had been suppressed by constant fighting and the desire to stay alive. Now there was peace and solitude, and with those came the freedom to think unnecessary thoughts. His mind wandered to every death he had caused during the war, and every man who had died under his command. He always attempted to justify their deaths as the price of war, but he never could convince himself that it was true. His sister still haunted him as well, but not as heavily as before. His mind would occasionally wander to memories of her, and he would often think about the night that Spurius died. He still did not regret his actions, for Spurius deserved every bit of what he got. He heard ringing outside and got up from his chair. He walked to the front room of his villa, opened the heavy wooden front door, and saw a Royal Courier ringing the bell outside his gate. He stopped upon seeing Gaius, and waved him over. Gaius walked over to the gate, grabbed the courier’s stylus, and wrote down his signature on the wax-covered form. The courier smiled and handed him a rolled up piece of parchment before getting on his horse and riding off. Gaius watched him leave, then locked the gate and walked around the courtyard pool to the inside of the villa. Once in the main room he sat down, unbound the sealed letter, and began reading. Head of the Cidellus Family From: Emperor of the Serillian Grand Empire Lord of Seris Patriarch of the Protector of the Empire Gaius Cidellus, Marcus informs me that you are a capable leader of men, and a capable warrior. He has been vouching for you since he returned from the war, and I have grown curious about his stories. He is quite trustworthy and loyal, my brother, and I believe in his judgment. If you are as intelligent as my brother claims, then you will know why this letter found you. I would ask that you come and join me in the
*** The The Great Room was, by far, the most famous room in the palace. It not only housed the Imperial Throne, but it was also where foreign dignitaries were met, and it was where court ceremonies were held. The walls were decorated with a great many sculptures and mosaics, most of which represented former emperors or famous generals. The ground was made of white marble, and the stained-glass skylights above would constantly form a shifting scene upon the floor. It was a genius design, and was one of many that made the great architect Markuus Regunas famous. The guard escorting Gaius did not speak, he simply led. Gaius soon found himself in a spacious office furnished with a desk, a large armchair, two smaller oak chairs, a couch, several book-cases, a large map, and several rugs. A man in his late thirties, though he appeared much older, was reading a book at his desk. His face appeared worn and weathered, and his hair was prematurely graying. His clothes were wrinkled, and he looked like he hadn’t shaved in a long while. Gaius knelt and lowered his head as soon as he entered, and Emperor Numerius watched with an amused smile. “Have you called me here to promote me?” asked Gaius. Gaius had to be careful; the man was testing him. If he said “no”, then Numerius could agree. If he said “yes”, then Numerius could think Gaius too eager. He answered with the first thought that entered his mind. “Your opinion seems fair enough, though it differs from mine. Very well, you will be granted the rank of General and command of three legions: the fourth, the fifth, and the sixth. Your men are waiting for you at Gaius was shocked; he had expected a promotion, but he hadn’t expected it to happen immediately. He now had 18,000 men under his direct command, and less than four years ago he had been a powerless equestrian crying over his sister’s corpse. He could not let the power that he now wielded corrupt him; he could not let it ruin him. His purpose was to rescue Serillia, and that is what he would do. “Yes, your majesty,” replied Gaius. *** Gaius departed from Seris the next morning, and he doubted that he would ever again see his family villa. He knew that he would return to Seris either in a coffin or at the head of an army. He took the small fortune he had with him, and he hired four men to act as his bodyguards for the journey to *** He arrived at Over the next year, Gaius encountered several problems with the plan he had formed. One was that legal war with Bertrol would be impossible. Emperor Numerius himself said so, and his word was law. They had no reason for war, and war at that time would be disadvantageous in any case. Serillia was still recovering from the Principality Wars while Bertrol was at full strength. Bertrol’s economy was stronger than ever, and their trade empire reached all the way down to the ports of Tasidian. Illegal war was out of the question, as it was punishable by death even if he succeeded. After the war, he was unlikely to have much of an army left anyway, and he could also just as easily be defeated by the armies of Bertrol. It was about fourteen months into his command at Queen Livana I of Bertrol was born in the year 329 AF, and was the daughter and only child of King Hector II. She was the great-great-granddaughter of King Varidan I, and had inherited her ancestor’s administrative and political talents. She was also well-renowned for her generosity and kindness to the lower classes, but she was also known to be quite harsh if somebody wronged her. Her temper was fiery as well, and she was known to engage in acts of torture if she needed to. She, just like every monarch, had a good side and a bad side. However, Queen Livana was unmarried and childless, and Cidellus was a man of similar age (having been born in 330 AF). There was a good chance she would refuse, and if she did he would be forced down a different road. If she agreed, Gaius would have a talented and powerful wife, a relatively powerful nation backing him, and an army of decent size to work with. It would be gambling everything he had worked for thus far, but it was the only way to go. Now he just had to leave the fort without anybody noticing he was gone. Seris, Third day, sixth month, 360 AF The walled city of Gaius Cidellus weaved his way through the busy streets, the hood of his cloak concealing all but his face. He had only a dagger with him, having decided that Quicksilver was not concealable enough. The roads were made of stone like the streets of Seris, but Gaius’s attention were not on the streets. The numerous shops lining the streets of Bertrol were far different than those in Seris. They were not mere stalls, but were whole buildings, and each one had an enormous glass window. Behind the windows were various products with the purpose of catching a potential customer’s attention. Suddenly, pressure was felt around his arms as two men grabbed him and redirected him into a nearby alley. Gaius pulled, but the men were stronger, and he ceased resistance. After turning a corner, they let go, grabbed Gaius’s dagger from its scabbard, and pushed him forward. He stumbled, but kept his balance and turned around. Both were several inches taller than he was, but he had fought far worse before.
Baldy looked enraged, and enraged he should’ve been. Goldie was his brother, and they had lived that life for nearly five years. Few had attempted to resist before, as most were too intimidated by their size to attempt to fight. He attacked, delivering a slash at Gaius’s chest. Gaius strafed to the side, and grabbed Baldy’s knife-arm. He then began punching Baldy in the face, and Baldy began doing the same to Gaius. Suddenly, Goldie came from the side and tackled Gaius to the ground. Gaius kneed him in the testicles and kicked him in the face before rolling to the side and getting up. Baldy attacked once again, this time delivering a flurry of wild stabs and slashes. Gaius dodged two attacks, then grabbed Baldy’s knife-arm. Baldy delivered a hook to Gaius’s face, and Gaius stumbled to the side. Baldy raised his knife in preparation to stab the stunned Serillian, and but Gaius grabbed his arms as the blade lowered and redirected it, with great force, into Baldy’s stomach. Baldy screamed in great pain as Gaius pulled the knife from his stomach and kicked the wounded mugger over. He then looked and saw that Goldie was recovering from his earlier misfortunes. Gaius closed the five feet between him and Goldie, and stabbed the dagger into his backbone. Goldie let out a sputter, and fell to the ground. Gaius pulled the dagger out and stabbed again, this time through Goldie’s neck. He died almost instantly. Baldy was still alive, but barely. Blood was pouring from the vicious wound that Gaius had dealt, and the mugger was dying slowly. Gaius walked over to him, looked down, and stabbed the dagger into his heart. Baldy twitched, looking at Gaius in horror, and finally died. Gaius surveyed the scene with sadness, for he had not come to the city to kill. The men were wicked, and they would’ve mugged again and possibly killed if Gaius had not slain them. His attempts at justification were pointless, however. He still felt terrible. He grabbed his dagger and left the scene as quickly as possible, hoping that nobody had seen the fight. *** “Your Royal Highness, there is a man outside requesting an audience with you,” said one of Queen Livana’s Royal Guards, “He’s definitely Serillian, and his name is Gaius Manius Cidellus. He looks as if he was just in a fight.” Queen Livana thought for a minute. She had heard his name before, but she could not remember where she had heard it. “Let him in,” ordered the Queen. A minute later, the doors at the far end of the throne room opened. A man walked in, his posture was straight, and he radiated confidence. His face was covered in what looked like markings of a fight. A short beard graced his face, and a smile was visible beyond it. He was wearing the robes of a commoner, but the boots of a soldier. When he got within twenty feet of the throne, he knelt. “May I ask why you look like you just got out of a brawl?” asked the Queen, amused. The Queen displayed the first hint of a sense of humor at Gaius’s comment, smiling ever so slightly. Livana was taken aback, for she had not been expecting this. Never before had a rebel enlisted foreign help. Queen Livana sat back for a moment, contemplating and analyzing the argument she had just heard. Serillia had been far more aggressive in their negotiations since the subjugation of the Allied Principalities. “And what benefits would I have in this alliance, besides the salvation of my nation?” asked the Queen. She was in a dilemma, and she could not make up her mind. The fact that he was a stranger was discomforting in all aspects, but his words had truth to them. Serillia would attack eventually, and now was the best chance she would have to strike. “Gaius Manius Cidellus,” she said, “Although I do not like the situation you have put me in; I accept your proposal.” | ||||
Sparta! | ||||
nothing to do so I might just as well try to criticize you :) if you don't feel like being criticized just don't read this it's just as likely that it makes no sense at all ;) I think that there could be more story in it, instead of just jumping form one battle to another let us wait for it and look forward to it, then then when you finally do the battle perhaps just have it a bit longer and more..ehh what's the word.. spectacular or magnificent, not quite sure how exactly to describe it. And possibly you could slow things down a bit, it took your character one battle to be promoted and after one or two more he was a general. I understand that watching the fight from the regular soldiers point of view might be boring but maybe just let him start a bit higher? yeah this is a bit longer then I originally intended and I don't feel like reading it over so it might be a bit f-ed up :P but you got a comment P.S the beginning reminded me awful much of law abiding citizen :P | ||||
Well...a few problems with what you suggest. First: Battles aren't spectacular or magnificent in any way. They are horrible, morbid, and utterly tragic. Fortunately, I've never been in a war of any kind. If I had, then the horrible/morbid part would've been better described. Second: Never seen Law Abiding Citizen, but Charley says it's good! =D Third: Him starting a bit higher would've been impossible, as he was an equestrian. Equestrians are the knight class, and thus start as knights. If he were a patrician, he would've started as a legate. =P Fourth: Him saving the emperor's brother's life earned him a few atta-boy points, which is why he was promoted to general. =P The far greater and longer battles come during the Serillian Civil War, so be patient. ^_^ | ||||
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