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Draco Rexus said:
One the will hopefully end with the Republic restored. One can dream.
Hey, everyone, sorry for my continued absence and that I'm not able to get involved in an indepth discussion like I usually do, though that should change soon. As I discussed with VJ, I plan to finish out part 2 of this story, getting through the next 10 or so updates by writing them out sans game, without screenshots. I can still use maps and Barbarian Invasion, of course. As this plot's coming to a big climax, I can't leave it hanging. So I'll wrap up this part, at about an update a week, and then take a break, repair my game, and maybe consider a side project. In the meantime, here's my last pre-written update, though I started writing the next last night. Thanks everyone for hanging in there and for the continued interest!
”Ita est?” Remus asked, concern rising in his expression. Medone remained silent and Calvus, the officer who had brought him the information, paused at the tone in the general’s voice. It was a tone that typically boded ill for the object of its attention. Their strategy meeting had just gotten underway when Calvus had briskly entered, several documents clasped in his right hand. The subject of Clovis and the remains of his army was put on hold as they waited for the officer to continue.
Calvus carefully reviewed the pages, feeling a sudden need to double-check their accuracy. He was a careful soldier, inspiring enough to lead men effectively in battle and diligent too in learning what he need to from those around him. He was fast becoming one of Remus’ most reliable officers in Gallia despite his predilections. Fortunately, recent events had kept the army on constant campaign, preventing the cultivation of a Gallic mistress. He also lacked Medone’s religious zealotry that continued to unnerve Remus. The budding rivalry between the two was fast becoming evident. For the moment, Calvus was the focus of Remus’ growing concern.
”It is so, Magister. King Gundobad seized the first courier near the Mons Jovis. We have no word on the next two. And now a fourth party was openly attacked on the border three days ago.”
”And the Praefectus is just reporting this?!” Medone flared.
”One disappearance is not uncommon. Even two can be explained away. By the third, he grew concerned and sent a stronger escort, which was openly attacked. This latest missive indicates…six dead, two missing, three escaped, all wounded,” he said quietly, placing another paper on the table.
Remus purposefully sat down, feeling the sudden implications weighing him down. Everything had just changed. ”Do we know what happened to the first courier?”
”Gundobad was gracious enough to tell us,” Calvus grunted, setting another document in front of Remus. He studied it for a tense moment, reading the hastily scrawled Latin, poor at that. The King, or rather his scribe, was no scholar then. ”The soldier was interned and executed, Magister,” Calvus continued. ”And the King goes on to proclaim that there will be no access to Italia through his territory on pain of death.”
Medone sneered, joining Remus at the makeshift table. ”Presumptuous barbarian, isn’t he?”
”He has the army to back up his taunts,” Remus said quietly, his mind racing in quick calculations. The Burgundian army, victorious repeatedly against the Italians, boasted at least ten thousand when massed. Their recent conquests of the Alpine provinces had only made them more dangerous.
”We can negotiate then,” Medone said confidently, leaning back on the wooden chair. ”The Bishop has been anxious for the opportunity for dialogue with some of the neighboring tribes.”
Calvus sat down in silence, and no one spoke for a time. Finally, Remus spoke deliberately and carefully. ”Gallia’s very existence has relied on military strength. The Goths and Franks respect us for that reason. They’ve come up against our armies in the field.”
”What about the Alemann----“
”No good,” Calvus snapped. ”Alemanni territory does not extend that far south. We’d have to contend with the Ostrogoths and northern Alpine passes. And Theodoric has less love for us than Gundobad.”
Medone darkened as he looked over at his commander. ”I see. You should consider your position carefully, Magister. It is not so easily resolved.” He folded his arms, adjusting himself before continuing. He had the look of civil authority about him, unique for a soldier. ”Bishop Remigius is already upset over the sack of Reims and the desecration of the church there. He and his brother Principius together have great influence. They would be very helpful in treating with King Gundobad. Not to call upon them now would surely border on…offense?”
”Unfortunately, the Bishops have an elevated point of view. Simply put, Magister, the Bishops’ concern is as much for the souls of the barbarians as for their weapons and territory. We must look to a long-term view. Negotiation from a position of strength----“
”Enough.” Remus shook his head. Were all Bishops like this? And Medone was fast becoming one of them. Surely there was one cleric out there who was not so…interfering! His patience was rapidly thinning. ”Your words bear a certain resemblance to the Bishop’s own letters, Medone. I receive them almost daily, lecturing me on churches, conversions, civil powers. Do you know Principius had the temerity to advise me on my choices for Prefect? Me?! The Magister per Gallias?!” Now it was Remus who began to darken. ”If Gundobad is killing off my messengers - my own soldiers! - then he clearly doubts our so-called position of strength. No, the Bishops are wrong. More than wrong, they’re out of line and you tell them that. The tribes will only respect our swords.”
He pushed himself back from the table, feeling the emotion race through him. Impudent fool, Gundobad! And the Bishops, certainly, but most of all the King for wrecking his plans. Did the King think himself immune? No doubt he had not yet heard of Remus’ destruction of the Frankish army or his courage would have suffered a blow. No, something else is prompting this, he reasoned. The Burgundians had never been so direct, even after the King killed off his sibling rivals. What was behind this? No matter, the Burgundians had just unraveled Remus’ carefully laid plans to finish off the Franks. Now he would visit his frustration upon them. He felt the eyes on him and looked back at his officers.
”Clovis will have to wait,” he said regretfully. ”The Alemanni will keep the Franks occupied for a season until I can return to end this. I’ll take the legion and march south, confront Gundobad head on. I will…exact my vengeance for this insult,” he growled.
”Medone, you will govern in my absence. See to the repairs in the city. I also place you in charge of the Breton problem.” By the way the man lightened, Remus wondered if he could discern his subordinate’s intentions. The Bishops’ man then…
Making up his mind, he turned to Calvus. ”You will take the Gallia. See to its formation and training.” The ‘Gallia’ was the second legion he was trying to scratch together at Lutetia though hampered by the lack of provincial manpower. Its official title was the Legio II Gallia, an old imperial affectation that suited Remus even if the imperial reality belied this grandiose title. There was hardly an empire to defend, and the legions of old were gone. This was something new in their place. Yet traditions had a way of calling to the past. His own legion had refused all other titles, proudly calling itself Legio I Aquila for its victorious commander. It was a reverence he hoped to keep in the years ahead.
”Keep within our the borders. You will not move against the Franks until I return. Understood?” Calvus nodded and to Remus’ own satisfaction, Medone’s levity vanished. Separate the bases of power then. That should keep the wolves at each other’s throat and not his, he reasoned. They stood, ready to change an army’s entire plan of campaign almost overnight. Fortuna willing, he would be facing down the Burgundian king in two weeks. Then he would let Gundobad deal with the new reality in Gaul.
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Works for me , Mettermrck.
Remus has his own subordinate troubles. Those two could get the precarious state of Gallia in deep trouble. Medone in his efforts to bring the Bretons in and Calvus,not to be outdone, brings in the Franks.
He's counting on them continuing to argue about who's right. He's not realised he's got two very able men who are very likely to agree to let Medone use "superstition" on the Bretons and Calvus' "brute force" on the Franks and see which method works best. Since the Bretons are religious and the Franks only respond to the application of military power, each is likely to succeed. Calvus' military expedition is very likely to carch Clovis completely unprepared.
All in all, Gundobad is going to regret his rash, reckless and foolhardy actions.
Remus has his own subordinate troubles. Those two could get the precarious state of Gallia in deep trouble. Medone in his efforts to bring the Bretons in and Calvus,not to be outdone, brings in the Franks.
He's counting on them continuing to argue about who's right. He's not realised he's got two very able men who are very likely to agree to let Medone use "superstition" on the Bretons and Calvus' "brute force" on the Franks and see which method works best. Since the Bretons are religious and the Franks only respond to the application of military power, each is likely to succeed. Calvus' military expedition is very likely to carch Clovis completely unprepared.
All in all, Gundobad is going to regret his rash, reckless and foolhardy actions.
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Great to see a new update Mett, and I am glad to hear you will continue this I think they way you are planning on doing it, finishing part two and then try to rebuild the game is a very good plan and I am looking forward to see how the Gallic campaign ends.
It seems like Remus is having some trouble with his officers, but I must say he is also turning more and more into an imperial power. He no longer acts as a normal general, but more like a king or emperor. I hope that after he have finished the Burgundians, who are no doubt working on Varic’s orders, he will march on Rome and remove that idiot Romulus and his friends.
Looking forward to it Mett
It seems like Remus is having some trouble with his officers, but I must say he is also turning more and more into an imperial power. He no longer acts as a normal general, but more like a king or emperor. I hope that after he have finished the Burgundians, who are no doubt working on Varic’s orders, he will march on Rome and remove that idiot Romulus and his friends.
Looking forward to it Mett
It does indeed sound like Remus is having some difficulty winning the peace - even if there is not actually that much peace.
He fits the role of late-Roman emperor, or VERY early emperor. Reknowned for his victories on the battlefield that destroy his foes, appealing to many because of his use of tradition...
He has a bit of Augustus, in that sense
He has a bit of Augustus, in that sense
Remus has come to the conclusion that there's one right way, and that's my way. Which is good, since he's usually right. He's also becoming more like an emperor, can't wait to see him march to Rome to replace Romulus.
Remus certainly seems to be taking on more of an air of leadership - it'll be interesting to see him carry that over into domestic politics back home.
I've got an update on the go myself. Should be here tommorow.
I've got an update on the go myself. Should be here tommorow.
Ave Magister Remus! I think the world (or at least the Western Roman world) will begin to tremble as Remus gains more fame at the expense of his enemies.
Nice work, as usual, Mett.
Nice work, as usual, Mett.
Another day, another barbarian tribe bent on Gallia's destruction. Remus' response makes sense, in that it's the perception of power that's keeping Gallia safe (sort of). If he didn't respond aggressively to the Burgundians, the Visigoths and the Franks might well be emboldened as well. However, Gallia's military power still is pretty paltry. If this aggressive gamble doesn't work, there will be very dark times ahead for Gallia.
Whisps of all sorts of smells mingled and shifted in the great halls of the Domus Augustiana - Incense, foodstuffs, perfumes, sweat, smoke, and, resting above it all, steady and unchanging, the low, inescapable thrum of suppressed noise from what was an Imperial feast in every sense of the word. Swathes of the city of Rome’s notable groups and interests had made their way to the event, enticed by the prospects of food, drink, social advancement and sexual license offered. The largesse on offer seemed curiously disproportionate in comparison to the current tottering Roman state, although the heady opulence on offer had the power to quell the objections all but the most principled. ‘Decadence’ was perhaps an appropriate word to use.
Hesta cursed herself for being drawn too far into it all, for losing her self-control and discipline. She’d lost him in the mass of humanity in the main hall and the night had deteriorated since then. She’d wisely avoided the Imperial party - perhaps a little too vigorously, under the circumstances. Her mind was foggy and dim. Her only success had come in managing to strike up, by luck, a conversation with a tax official recently arrived from Mediolanium, who had revealed some interesting facets of regional finances and administration, but who was possibly the dullest man in the hall; and she had consequently indulged herself with wine a little too much, and most of the conversation was now half-lost on a wave of weariness and alcoholic indifference. She’d had to retreat after he’d mistook her polite, detached interest for enthusiasm, and had stumbled around rather aimlessly since then trying to regain her clarity.
Her mood was even less improved when she’d seen her brother, like some lecherous, drink-spiked spider move through one of the ante-chambers in close contact with some waif she didn’t recognise. She’d noticed a definite loosening of Regulus’ social ineptitude, almost ever since his promotion to the Senate, and it disturbed her; it was an advantage she was loosening her grip upon. Being part of the Senate almost demanded some degree of self-assuredness, and her brother had certainly been going to many more social occasions as a basic necessity in establishing himself. It was all terribly depressing. Hesta brushed her forehead with her middle fingers as servants went their ways in fulfilling the carnal dictates of the feastgoers. She tried to look inconspicuous.
Hesta
Hesta was still in a slight daze as she made her way around a corner, and into a more compact, deserted corridor. She continued along the poorly-illuminated passage before settling down on a small stone seat fixed into an alcove in the wall. She lowered her head and squinted her eyes. Her head began to throb in pain as the small, quiet sound of footsteps began to resound in her ears, becoming evermore closer and closer, until she finally lifted her head, and smiled, before swiftly standing.
The figure moved faster towards her, before grasping towards her waist and pushing her backwards, kissing her passionately. After a while, Hesta began to push back in an attempt to restrain him.
“Don’t you want me?”
“It’s not a question of want, it’s a question of discretion.”
The man was clearly unsatisfied with this answer.
“Even being seen here is dangerous. For both of us.”
The man gave no response, but simply followed Hesta in slowly sitting down on the stone bench, before stroking Hesta‘s upper arm. There was a long pause.
“I couldn’t believe it when I heard you wouldn’t see me!”
Hesta was close to losing her temper. “You’re talking like a love-struck girl! Don’t be so insufferably foolish! You know it’s impossible to simply cavort around in these kind of circumstances, Titus. Your wife is bad enough, but with all this talk of me… well, you know.” She gave a forced sigh. “My uncle is absolutely set on it. Which is why you need to disaude the Imperial party of it’s merits.”
Now it was Titus’ turn for irritation. “Don’t you think I’ve been doing that?”
“Yes, but slightly less dispassionately in future!” This was always the problem in relying on others, she thought. They were so abysmally less capable than oneself. “You’re in danger of giving yourself away, from what I hear.”
There was another pause.
“There are people who seem to be just as set on it as your Uncle.”
“Then you will have to disuade them! Or we will both be sorry.” Hesta said, with perhaps a tinge of desperation in her voice. Marriage to the Imperator offered so many possibilities, normally, but what was there to gain under the current circumstances? Romulus already had the ear of long-standing advisors, his mother mainly, and barbarian cohorts. And then there was her uncle. This wasn’t her choice. And it wasn’t going to work. She knew it. Too many already grasped at Romulus, had already established themselves on that verdant pasture which was the Imperial favour, to the exclusion of newer settlers. She knew - she felt it - that to become Romulus’ Augusta would be an empty honour - prestige without power. The prospect revolted and repulsed her.
Titus Orachus
Titus Orachus - Senatorial opportunist, head-strong idiot and source of so much valuable information for her. And now, possibly, her only hope to abort any notion of marriage. Once again, as so many times in her family’s recent history, they were but as corks on a fast-flowing river. Miscalculation had cost her father his life, and very nearly her family’s status. Prudence, caution, was bred into her. Our time will come, she thought to herself.
She decided to change her approach. “I get angry simply because I don’t see why these obstructions should force us into secrecy, Titus. And the talk of marriage is hateful to me, when I think of you. You have to realise that.”
“I do, it’s just that sometimes I wonder whether it’s worth continuing with this. But I know – I know how we…”
He tailed off. Hesta simply looked at him, smiling, sweetly and empathetically.
“I know you can convince Dives.”, she said.
Titus simply turned to her, and drew his head close to her neck, before kissing it, and fixing her gaze with a strong, apparently determined stare.
“I will. I will.”
Ah, the Roman orgy. If bread and circus kept the plebeians in their place, orgies kept the Senators in line. Romulus is up to something.
Nah, I think this is just standard procedure, just that it's only shown once because it'd get boring otherwise
That Hestia is quite a piece of work. A worthy peer to Barbaria or any man in Rome. But it seems that her greatest problem may soon become her brother and his increasing independence.
Hestia, I think, is heading for a fall. Perhaps a large fall. As the old order (her brother pre-senate etc) changes, her own circumstances will be effected. And not for the better. However, I think she has enough talent and ability that her enemies - and her brother might end up numbering among them I might think - had best watch out.