Chapter I - Reign Damianos Seleucus
Rule 769-781
Legatus Augusti of Damascus
"Only the dead have seen the end of the war."
-Plato
He lay in his bed, unmoving, his leg severed clean from his body and bandages wrapped around his head. The Legatus Augusti had not moved in days, laying in a comatose state unresponsive to the world. Truly he had been a madman, yet the feats he had accomplished were unmistakable. Even now as he lay dying, his fading mind seemed to call back to how he had changed the world in so little of time
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[video=youtube;WY46l51kA_8]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WY46l51kA_8[/video]
"Damianos! Damianos! Have you not heard the good news!? Revolution!"
Damianos' Marshall came screaming, the door to his chambers flying up. "Raise the flag! Revolution has spread like wildfire through his Empire of Muslims, and we must strike now!"
Damianos had been biding his time for such a moment for 4 years, and it all seemed to be facilitated by the fact that the Caliph had felt it necessary to revoke the Emir of Damascus from Damianos' liege. This act of tyranny was decried by lords throughout the land and many nobles had risen their flags in revolt, including Damianos. Now, he definitely had no love for the previous Emir -- able to recall quite clearly the hundreds of messengers that seemed to arrive every day from the Emir demanding the Damianos serve as the Emir's marshall or steward, depending on what month it was and upon which offer Damianos had previously rejected. Things had been especially awkward ever since Damianos had the grand idea to declare his Horse as chancellor, a decision which his council had quickly talked him into rescinding. Indeed, it seemed Damianos' madness grew more hindering by the day. During an elegant dinner party he once spotted the full moon, ripped his clothes off, and began to howl at it like a dog.
"Come, Ioulianos! Greatness awaits!" The young Damianos was ever so eager for war, ever so eager to prove himself in the fires of battle. His young son, Evangelos, watched quietly from the side, unable to find the words to say to his father. Damianos, however, just gave a small and awkward smile as he reached a hand out to pat Evangelos on the head. Truthfully, battle had been the only time where Damianos felt that his head was clear, the only time when he did not her the hundreds of voices whispering in the back of his mind. Zeus, Jupiter, Seleucus Nicator. They all spoke to him at one time or another, or so Damianos thought.
"I...I will return, son." It was one of those few, fleeting moments of clarity that Damianos had as he felt little Evangelos' arms about his waist as the boy gave the father a hug -- the last hug Damianos would ever know, in truth. Damianos just nodded, freeing himself of his boy as he marched off with Ioulianos to mount their horses and join the army in this great endeavor which they sought to undertake.
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He had experience fighting the Muslims, but never before had he seen an army of such a size amassed -- it was inconceivable the very size of the force that the Abbasid Caliphate had directed away from his war with Damianos' greek brethren to levy in his fight against the revolters. Naturally, Damianos was not alone in this independence league. Forming up alongside his Greek Cavalry and Heavy Infantry were Arab and Persian soldiers alike -- sure, Damianos had trained his troops in the Greek tradition but Damianos' upbringing meant that he was also familiar with the Eastern ways of war.
"It's a little awkward." Damianos said in Greek to his trusted general, Nikodermos
"To fight along side the Muslims."
"Becareful, liege. They think us heretics, they'll likely turn on us."
[I forgot to take screenshots, so enjoy
[video=youtube;rjMcKcL5JY4]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rjMcKcL5JY4[/video]
as a substitute]
The battle against the Abbasids were intense, just like the Greek heroes of old Damianos rode into battle alongside his men, his Companion Cavalry charging the Muslim lines during the echange of fire. Arrows pelted through the air, striking targets on both sides as the sound of men clashing against men echoed, the Cavalry charge slamming into the Abbasid left flank. There was little the lightly armored infantry could do to withstand the force of the heavily armored cavalry slamming into them, the morale of the Abbasid line steadily crumbling in the dust and blood.
Damianos felt alive, he felt renewed. The voices in his head all screamed toward one purpose and that was victory, Damianos ramming a spear through the heart of one of the Persian soldiers that the Caliph and drawn up to oppose their just and noble cause -- truly Damianos believed himself Seleucus Nicator himself at that moment, battling through the lines of infantry atop his horse and along side his heavily armored brethren. He must have slew a hundred enemies himself before the Abbasid was pushed into retreat. Despite the odds, the superior strategy of the revolting army and the terrain they chose to fight on gave the rebels the clear advantage in that battle.
The war, however, was slow. Damianos broke his army away and chased the fleeing Abbasid forces down until the army was broken and scattered to the wind. From there, he seized the Capital of Damascus from the Caliph himself, defeating the palace guards and taking into his possession numerous prisoners. The Abbasid Caliph reluctantly accepted the demands of the Independence League, with Damianos throwing off the shackles of vassalage. For whatever reason, the voice of Julius Caesar joined with those that already spoke in his mind and Damianos proclaimed himself the Legatus Augusti of Damascus.
Peace, however, would not last.
The declarations arrived one after the other while Damianos' family was en route to Damascus. It brought joy to his heart as he threw the letter to one side
"Call up the troops Ioulianus! The Muslims want another go!"
--
Damianos would never see his son again, never know the warm embrace of his wife. Damianos' last thoughts would be of battle; of the taste of blood and sand filling his mouth. As he had done before, Damianos dared to charge the enemy lines head on. His cavalry smashed against the enemy lines and while things seemed to be going well, Damianos himself did not fare well. A sharp pain shot through his body, the Legatus Augusti crying out in pain as a spear bore through his upper thigh.
"JUPITERS COCK!"
The Legatus Augusti screamed as he fell from his horse, blood gushing from his mangled leg. Still, Damianos managed to thrust his spear upward as the arabs encircled him, the metal point striking true as it tore through the skull of one of his would be dispatchers. Relieved of his spear, Damianos turned to the sword as he battled off the enemies as best he could while separated from his guard. It was, however, for naught. A muslim managed to clobber him upside the head pretty hard and that was when the light of the world was extinguished.
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The voices.
The voices were finally silent.
His thoughts turned to his son, Evangelos -- his heir, the one who would carry on his name. He had left a shattered legacy behind and wished that he could have been more of a father to the boy, who had been born the child of a Concubine. Evangelos would have great challenges ahead of him, especially since the Muslim Holy War for Damascus still waged on. A faint smile crossed his lips before the light of life faded from his body.
Αναπαύσου εν ειρήνη Damianos of the House Seleucus.
The World as Evangelos shall know it.