Roma Victor - Rome against the World

[Knight]

Ok, this is my first attempt at a story. These seem fun, so here we go.

Note: This game is played on Marla Singers Huge earth world map with correct starting locations.

Caesar Augustus Andruvius relaxed into his hot bath. He had already suffered through a long morning consulting his nagging domestic advisor being briefed on the state of technology in the empire, and later in the afternoon he would have to grant his weekly audiences with the boorish barbarian “nations” with which he was forced to share the world. However, for the moment, he could relax with nothing more than a warm tub, some grapes, and of course, the lovely Aggripina.

“Mmmm, more grapes Aggirpina.” Caesar stretched in his tub, letting some of the warm water slash on the opulent tile floor. “And after the grapes, hehe, a bit more of you.”

Aggripina smiled a coquettish smile and leaned close to the Emperor, popping a single grape into his mouth. Before she could fulfill his second request, there was loud banging on the huge oak doors of the Emperor’s lavatory.

“What now!” the Emperor screamed, throwing a thin robe over the bottom half of the tub.

The doors parted to reveal the presence of Falcus Longinus, foreign minister of the Empire.

“Highness” he began, “The emmesaries of the barbarian states have gathered in the audience hall to pay their respects. The ambassador of the Russians seems to be insistent on seeing you immediately.”

“They can wait for Rome!” Caesar replied furiously.

“Yes Caesar, however, it should be prudent to also inform you that General Gaius Valerias has recently arrived from Cume to update you on his preparations for the addition of Britannia into the Empire.”

“Ah! Well, that is different. Bring in the General and get me my servants and robes. I suppose we’ll get this whole audience mess over with in time to prepare a fine feast and orgy for our great General.”

“An, um, orgy. Yes highness. I’ll make preparations.”

With a clap of the hands servants rushed into the spacious room, their sandals clicking on the marble tile. Caesar rose and let them dry his slightly rotund body, making sure to partake liberally of the scented powders imported from exotic China. Once he was fully dressed in his purple robes, and given his eagle headed scepter, he went forth to tackle the humdrum of every day foreign affairs. Waiting in the long arched hallway that led to the audience chamber stood General Valerias, General of the North, Conqueror of France, and Hero of Rome.

“Ah, Valerias! How is my favorite General!” Caesar and Valerias embraced before they began to stroll to the audience chamber.

“I’m well sire, tired from my trip.”

“How go the preparations at Cume? I trust we’ll take care of the pesky Britons quickly.”

“They’re going well sire, I have ten cohorts, a full legion, ready for the invasion. I also have three cohorts of pikemen and two catapult regiments. They should be more than adequate for the task. However, one thing troubles me Caesar.”

“What’s that my good General?”

“These Russians. I’ve reports from my garrison at Neapolis that they’re dangerously close to our borders. Several detachments of their swordsmen and horse have been seen. I’m compelled to believe that their base at Rostov is more than just a border city. The seem poised for an attack.”

“Nonsense Valerias, nonsense. These Russians are mere barbarians, cowed by the glory of Rome. No, as soon as we’re done here today you shall feast and sate your loins, then it’s off to Cume with you, and then across the channel to England.”

“As you wish sire.”

With that, Caesar and Valerias strode into the Imperial audience chamber. Already the hall was filled with onlookers and courtiers, all eager to hear the regular supplications of the other nations to great Rome. As usual, the ambassadors from all the great powers sat in rows before the raised dias that held the Roman throne. Caesar strode to the throne and sat, signaling everyone in the room to be silent. Longinus and Valerias took their places to the left and right of their ruler.

“Let the ambassador from Russia come forth.” Caesar bellowed.

The Russian ambassador stood, tanned skins still clinging to his body. He approached the throne, and refused to bow. Bringing a hushed murmur from the assembled courtiers and senators.

“Bow before the throne of great Caesar, or suffer the fate of France, and soon England!” Caesar bellowed.

“No.” the Russian said cleanly, running a hand over his long and unkempt beard.

“Explain yourself!” Caesar’s face now matched the complexion of his purple robes.

“The great Catherine, the little mama of all the Russians sends me to demand of Rome the secrets of Monarchy. Catherine says that if you do not comply, that the armies of Russia shall take by force what you will not give.”

Caesar sat dumbfounded, “How DARE YOU!” he hissed, “Declare war on Rome and I shall wipe your nation off the face of the earth!”

“Then so be it.” The Russian said calmly. “It shall be war.”

Caesar stood, fury making him tremble. Before he could speak, another ambassador rose, and then another.

“Yes” yelled the ambassador of Persia, “It will be war! Rome will fall under the might of Russia and Persia!”

“More than that!” added the ambassador from Babylon, “King Hammurabi pledges his armies to the destruction of foul Rome!”

“Your tyranny is over!” screamed the ambassador of broken France, “We shall send what forces we have from our settlements in Asia and unite with our brothers!”

“You should have destroyed us when you had a chance!” bellowed the German ambassador, “After driving us from Europe we have rebuilt our Empire in the far east, and we shall return to claim our homelands!”

“Rome’s days are over.” The ambassador of Greece was the last to rise, “Yes Caesar, even we will stand with Russia against you.”

“E tu Alexander! E tu!” Caesar collapsed into his throne as six of the seven ambassadors seated at court strode out with newfound unity and conviction. The last, Egypt, still sat silent.

“And what of Egypt?” asked Caesar, now speaking in muted and hushed tones.

“Queen Cleopatra declares her neutrality in this conflict, unless of course Rome tenders her an offer worthy of Egyptian bloodshed.”

Caesar found his ire once again and stood once more.

“No Roman shall beg another nation for help. We shall stand alone against the world, and we shall make them taste the sting of Roman steel!” Caesar whirled. “Longinus!”

“Yes Caesar?”

“Summon General Constantine and General Graccus to the map room! Valerias, you are to join us there. Rome is going to war!”

[Sovy Kurosei]

Heh, reminds me of my one game where I got declared on by the countries of Greece, the Zulu's, France, the Iroquis and the Japanese...

Well, all thats left now is the Japs and Zulu's

[steelehc]

This looks good. I'm expecting thr Roman Legions to destroy the barbarian armies.

I like this so much, I'm nominating it for the Story Contest

Steele

[curlyboy24]

I loved the beginning! It was hilarious! Excellent story dude, keep it up!

[WTE_OzWolf]

Excellent start...keep it up. Looking forward to more.

[Giovanni August]

That is great Knight!

Keep it up... can't wait for next part!

Saluti

[Knight]

Roma Victor Part 2..

Caesar Augustus Andruvius entered the map room shortly after noon. He’d decided it was best to be fashionably late after ordering an immediate gathering of his war council.

“Do you think the white armor was appropriate Longinus? I was so torn between it and the purple.”

“You look quite commanding sire.” Longinus, as usual, made no show of emotion at his Emperor’s excesses. His predecessor had not been so wise and Caesar had cheered wildly when he was devoured by beasts at the games.

“My Generals!” Caesar proclaimed, arms open as he approached the map table, “Gaius Antonius Constantine, Governor of Africa and Spain, how are you?”

“Well sire,” responded the fair haired Constantine, “Better since returning from Ravenna. It’s so uncivilized in Africa, even in Ravenna. Would that I could watch over our securities from here.”

“Quite, quite. And you General Graccus, how is commander of the garrison of Rome?”

“Oh delightful sire! Well, delightful until I heard of the horrendous insults levied on you this morning. The barbarians must be punished of course.”

“Of course, and that what we’re here to do. General Valerias, would you please bring us up to date on our military situation?”

“Unfortunately sire, our situation is far more grim than you might understand.” Valerias put his finger on the map, and began to trace a line from Rostov eastward, “Russia, our main enemy, is the largest empire known to us. Their holdings strech from their border at Neapolis as far eastward as any Roman scout has gone. The forces that we’ve seen near Rostov are larger than the combined armies of Rome, even counting our city garrisons. We have reason to believe that they have quite a bit more troops than even that. Alone, Russia would be a formidable threat. With allies, we are in danger of at the very least losing Neapolis, Hispalis and even Andruvia within their first blows.”

“Nonsense, barbarians all.” Caesar crossed his arms over his chest, “Our Legionaries should have no problem smashing their pathetic armies.”

“Well sire, it’s true that our Legionaries possess a certain advantage over their swordsmen. However, we have only fifteen active Cohorts of Legionaries in the entire Empire. Most of them are in Cume, two already in England fighting east of London..”

“Londinium! I insist you use the correct name!”

“Yes sire, Londinium. The rest of our Cohorts are leftovers from the conquest of France, garrisoned in Spain under our esteemed General Constantine.” Valerias tapped on Tours, where four Legions sat in garrison, “According to Longinus, every major power that we are at war with currently have a military force far greater than ours. Therefore, I recommend that we assume a status of total war. All production should be switched to arms and armor, and all our public efforts should go to recruiting Legionaries for our cohorts.”

“All public works!?” Caesar scowled, “But the coliseum of Rome is nearly finished! I do so love the games. Oh, and the Hanging Gardens of Andruvia! They’ll be so pleasant in my summer retreat.”

“Sire,” cautioned Valerias, “Were civilization a game played out on a board, perhaps culture would be a condition for victory. I’m quite sure that if it were, we would be in the lead. However, this is real and a deadly serious affair. I insist that we concentrate our preparations on augmenting our armies.”

“Oh, very well. I’ll have my latest domestic advisor make the arrangements.” Caesar studied the map intently, cocking his head to one side, “I believe General Valerias, that you should take half of your armies at Cumae, and move to Neapolis immediately.” Caesar drew his hand along the eastward road that connected Cumae and the border town, “I believe that the Russians will make this their first target, and if we can manage to hold them off, it will slow their advance don’t you agree?”

“Yes sire,” Valerias said, “The longer we hold Neapolis, the more the Russians will give it their full attention. We can use the time to build an army.”

“Indeed, except our first target will not be the Russians my dear Valerias. It will be the Greeks.”

“The Greeks?” Constantine, a half Greek citizen from the border city of Pompeii now took interest, “That’s a good plan Caesar, they’re closer to Rome, and we share Africa with them. They’ll be a threat to Ravenna.”

“Quite, and that’s why you shall form a task force here in Rome to take across to Africa General Constantine. I task you with the conquest of North Africa. Unfortunately, I can only spare for you six Cohorts, the maximum number that can be loaded into the Galleys of the southern fleet. And of course it will take time to raise those Cohorts. In the mean time, take your men from Tours and get them across into Ravenna before the Greeks attack.”

“Yes sire, it’s a difficult task, but I shall do my best.”

“Excellent. Now, on to you General Graccus. You shall make speed to Pompeii and from there take over the other half of General Valerias’ Cohorts from Cume. You shall have first choice of all Cohorts raised from Rome, and you shall have all the horsemen and Archers stationed in Paris. With that army General, you are to go on the attack. Cut through Sparta and Thermopalye first, then from there, drive on to Athens and cut out the Greek heart!”

“Delightful!” Graccus smiled and took a sip from a goblet of wine, “It’s so epic that I should write a song for the lyre to entertain me on my travels!”

“Yes, quite,” Caesar kept a finger tapping on Athens, I caution you though General Graccus, you’ll be facing the bulk of our enemies. The Babylonians, Persians, Germans and French will all be sending their armies through Asia Minor, GREEK held Asia Minor. You will have to face the combined might of five armies. But, once you take Athens, and then Delphi on the shore of Asia Minor, you will cut off any easy advance from their allies into our territory. You must be swift, brutal and decisive. Once we have neutralized the Greeks then General Valerias will go forth to punish the Russians, but he can only do that once they are cut off from their allies. Can you do it General?”

“Oh yes my Emperor! The poems I write on campaign will be read for centuries.”

“Then it’s decided. Go now my Generals, take the banner of Rome to the front of our Armies and crush our enemies! Tonight we shall feast, and tomorrow, we bury our swords in the hearts of those that would oppose us! Roma Victor!”

“Roma Victor!” cried the generals. The die was cast…

[Panzer]

Cool story! Keep it up!

[Coinich]

I really like how this story is going I especially like the part about Civ being a board game etc. - that was a good idea

More more more!

Maps maps maps!

[WTE_OzWolf]

I am really enjoying this. I love the tongue-in-cheek sense of humour. Keep it coming...

[Knight]

It had been a long march to Neapolis, but Gaius Valerias had made it in record time. The city was already burning when he arrived at the head of three cohorts of legionaries and two of spearmen, but the walls still stood and Roman banners still fluttered in the breeze. Roman spearmen on the battlements of Neapolis cheered wildly when they saw that it was the Prima Legion coming to their aid.

“Valerias! Savior of Rome!” cried the battered spearmen. They looked like men that had been through hell and now were given promise of redemption.

Valerias rode through the city gates. With one gesture to his adjutant, his men began to deploy to the barracks at the quickstep. These were no mere swordsmen. The Roman Legionaries of Prima Legion were the finest in the Empire, and they knew exactly what to do.

“General Valerias!” A rather portly man ran forward, the folds of his white toga gathered in his arms.

Valerias dismounted and approached the man, whom he immediately recognized as the governor of Neapolis, his palms open in greeting. “I greet you Sextus Acilius. I’m sorry it took so long to come to your aid. “

“At least you’re here now General. We barely withstood the barbarian’s first attack. There were so many of them, even with reinforcements from Antium we hardly held.”

Valerias surveyed the city. It was small by Roman standards, still a fresh outpost on the Russian frontier. Fortunately, it was connected to Antium and Cume by road and harbor, so the Russians would be hard pressed to cut off re-enforcement. Still, Valerias expected the small garrison to be quickly surrounded.

“How many losses did you suffer in your defense?”

“Two of the four regiments of spearmen General. Also our library was destroyed by their infernal catapults. It was horrible, I was such an avid reader…”

“Yes, well, that’s unfortunate.” Valerias wasn’t even looking at the Governor anymore, “Well, I suppose I shall take my leave of you now. Of course I’m now in command. Please try to stay out of my way.”

The Governor began to look flustered, but one icy gaze from Valerias made the him shrink from confrontation.

“Yes of course General. I defer to you in all matters.”

“Good, then I’ll be off to the walls. It’s time to mount a defense…”

[godinex]

good keep on it

[Knight]

General Constantine stood on the bow of the gally “Valiant” as it sailed towards the coast of Roman North Africa.

“No,” Constantine corrected himself, “Not Roman North Africa anymore.”

The unfortunate news had reached Rome before he had even been able to depart. Ravenna had fallen to the Greeks, both its Spearmen regiments slaughtered by a mass of Greek archers. The Greeks now controlled all of North Africa, for the time being at least.

Constantine closed his eyes and sat at the prow of the galley. He let the sea spray hit him in the face, and he thought. He let himself become the center of the universe, the king of the world. Nothing else existed but him and the battle plan forming in his head.

“M’lord, what are you doing?” it was Basitus, the General’s adjudant.

“I’m trying to think like a Greek Basitus.”

“According to the Emperor the barbarians can’t think M’lord. Not like we do anyway.”

Constantine, eyes still closed raised a hand, “Never underestimate your opponent Basitus. The Greeks are a cut above your normal barbarian. While the other nations of the world are in awe of our culture and technology, they are merely admirers. The Greeks are quite capable of thought, and more than capable of action.”

“Then what action shall they take?” Basitus asked.

Constantine opened his eyes and smiled a lopsided grin, “Were I them, I’d move forces from Mycenae to re-enforce Ravenna. They know we’re coming, they’ll need to be ready for us.”

“You seem pleased by this M’lord.”

“Oh but I am friend Basitus. You see, because they’ll be moving their hoplites from Mycenae, their garrison there will be depleted. Worse still, overland travel is slower than travel by sea. We shall land to the West of Ravenna, debarking along the road. That way we’ll block the Greeks moving to Re-enforce Ravenna.”

“Excellent plan M’lord. That way we’ll face only the units that took the city.”

“The WEAKENED units,” Constantine corrected, “So weak, that we’ll only need two Cohorts to take Ravenna back and then defend it from the impending assault. Meanwhile, I’ll send our other four Cohorts by sea to Mycenae to capture its depleted garrison. That way, not only will we take Ravenna, but we’ll have the largest Greek city in Africa, AND we’ll strand their army in mid march between the cities.”

Constantine stood and whirled around to face Basitus. “Make the preparations! Tomorrow, we take back Ravenna!”

----

Graccus strummed his lyre and tested his voice. What song to sing to commemorate his long march from Rome? He would have to write a new one just to describe the perils of the road. Pompeii at least was a relatively pleasant end to the travel. It was no Rome, but it would do in a pinch. There were no games, little wine, no pretty girls to speak of, and the couch upon which he lay was lumpy. However, one had to make sacrifices for war.

“M’lord Graccus!” a young messenger approached the square, stripped for the run. Graccus’ guards intercepted him before he reached the General.

“Let him approach.” Graccus mumbled as he stuffed his mouth with a fresh Greek olive.

“M’lord,” said the messenger, bowing, “I bring news that the great city of Sparta has overthrown its Greek garrison and pledged allegiance to Rome. The governor of Sparta requests your protection before Greek Armies set upon the city in revenge.”

Graccus nearly choked on his olive. “Given up!? That easily! HA!” Graccus stood, and raised one finger into the air, “Let it be written that General Marcus Pharris Graccus has made cities fall his mere presence! Rome is victorious without a drop of blood!”

“Um, yes M’lord.” said Appius Servius, Graccus’ second in command, “I’ll record it immediately. Um, shouldn’t we also revise our battle plan as well?”

“Of course!” shouted Graccus, “I was just getting to that part.”

“Of course you were M’lord.”

“Yes, well, obviously now we won’t need to take Sparta.”

“Obviously M’lord.” Servius agreed.

“So, um, we should take the other city. Um, yes, that other city named, um…”

“Thermopalye M’lord?”

“Yes, of course, Thermopalye you idiot!” Graccus waived finger in Servius’ direction, “We’ll march on Thermopalye immediately, and take it by storm.”

“After we reinforce Sparta M’lord?” Servius prodded.

“Yes, of course, as I just said, we’ll take Thermopalye after we re-enforce Sparta. Weren’t you listening?”

“Apparently not M’lord.”

“You need to work on that Servius. You won’t go far unless you’re attentive.”

Yes M’lord, as always you’re correct.”

“Of course I am. Oh, by the way Servius..”

“Yes M’lord?”

“What kind of girls do these Greeks have?”

“Um, I’m sure they’re pleasant enough. There’s some intermingling here in Pompeii due to our close proximity to the border, so our citizens apparently have a liking for them.”

“Hmm, and there will be girls in Sparta, they won’t have fled just yet.” Graccus rubbed his chin, deep in tactical thought.

“Well, that’s possible M’lord.”

“Very good then!” Graccus again raised his hand in decree, “I shall march to Sparta immediately and re-enforce the city!”

Servius tried to hide his surprise, “But what of Thermopalye M’lord?”

“Oh, go conquer it or something, in my name of course.”

“Conquer it!?” Servius asked, “How?!”

Graccus motioned his hand in the direction of the city, “March, take legionaries, conquer it, you know how. I have more pressing matters. Report to me once it’s done.” Graccus gathered his robes and his scepter of command, “Bring me my horse! We are off to Sparta!”

Servius watched the General, lyre and all, depart. He marched out of the city like a conquering hero.

“You heard him, make ready to march to Thermopalye. We’re going to ‘conquer it.’” Servius said to the nearby troops, donning his helmet.

Luckily for Servius, there was a nearby temple to pray to the gods for guidance, and for protection from Marcus Pharris Graccus.

[Messer Niccolò]

Great!

One of the best

[Knight]

“Legionaries to the front! Hold the line!” Valerias screamed as the Russian swordsmen began to gather for a charge.

Already the first line of spearmen had been smashed by the Russian horde. Fortunately they had been able to hold off two charges of Russian horsemen. However, the horsemen were only the first to attack. Now came the true assault, the swordsmen, charging headlong at the open gates of Neapolis.

“Tell me again why we are keeping the gate open General?” asked Justinian, one of Prima Legion’s many centurions.

“Every good castle needs a weakness lad. We close the gates, they choose the battle. Open them, and they can’t resist the invitation. We can’t defend the whole city with our forces. We must choose the ground.” Valerias spoke, never taking his eyes off the enemy as they tried to organize themselves into something resembling more than a mob. Try as they might, they weren’t Roman soldiers.

Valerias walked along the line, “Remember, when they charge, act as one. Keep your shields loose, and let them try to come at you with an overhand blow. When they strike, block with the shield and thrust with the gladius at the exposed ribs. Worry only about the man in front of you, let your brothers to left and right take care of the others.”

“Here they come!” shouted a legionary from the atop the guard tower.

“Alright lads!” Valerias yelled as he took his place near the Legion battle standard, “Show them what the Legion can do! Fight like Romans!”

Almost as the last words left his lips, the first wave of swordsmen clashed against the front line of the Cohort. Valerias hardly saw anything after that. He pushed to the front, thrusting into the first torso he could find with his gladius. The smell of sweat and blood permiated his nose, overwhelming his senses. The world became a red haze of men struggling in huddled knots, shields being used as bludgeons, swords thrusting and hacking. Valerias couldn’t keep track of how many men he killed, he didn’t even try. Every individual combat had the same well drilled system. Attack with the shield, kill with the gladius.

The Russians pushed forward suicidaly, unable to break through the Roman wall. Each Roman that fell was quickly replaced in line by the man behind him. Each Russian that fell opened gaps in the disorganized mob. One Russian, adorned with intricate skins and trinkets charged Valerias, sword raised high. Valerias brought his shield up into his chin, knocking him to the ground. Before Valerias could thrust in the killing blow, the Russian rebounded and struck upward, thrusting his longer sword into Valerias’ cheek. Luckily, his steel helmet deflected part of the blow, but the wound still sent Valerias reeling backward partially stunned. The Russian tried to rise and charge again, but already the Roman behind Valerias had stepped forward, and he again delivered a punishing blow with the shield. This time, the Roman managed to fall to a knee and drive his gladius forward, letting the short sword find the soft unprotected belly of his enemy.

“Are you alright M’lord!?” shouted the legionary.

“I’m well, don’t worry. Just hold the line!” Valerias said as he stood and made his way to the back of the formation.

The Russian’s initial assault was obviously about to be broken, but there were more waves being assembled. Even though Prima Cohort had only lost one century worth of men, he’d want to have a fresh unit at the gates before the next wave arrived. Valerias quickly ran to the Cohort Secundus, the fresh cohort in reserve.

“As soon as I give the signal, Prima cohort will retire! Cohort Secundus will then take Prima Cohort’s place in the line!”

Valerias, still bleeding profusely stood between the cohorts, his hand raised, watching for the moment the last few Russians would break and run. As soon as he saw it, he let his hand fall quickly.

“Prima Cohort, retire! Cohort Secundus to the line!”

Like a well oiled machine, Prima Cohort fell out of line and marched at the double quick away from the breach. Seconds later, Cohort secundus stood in the city archway, shields locked and ready for another charge.

Bleeding, bloody and battered, Valerias made his way to the front of his troops, ready to stand with them against the horde again. Even as the next wave began their attack Valerias could see on the hills above Neapolis, he could see nearly a dozen masses of Russian swordsmen ready to make their own charges. It was obviously going to be a long day.