>>3448651
[Welcome the third chapter eight of the Commentarii. QM Curse is definitely a thing, my internet has been dying like a housefly since we've been in India

You can read the previous archives here:

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=Commentarii

And now, on with the quest!]


At least the Germans and the Gauls didn't brawl nearly as much these days. The marriage really bore fruit in terms of amending relations between the two peoples. What would really unite them would be a fruit in the more literal sense from marriage, but... well, that could come later. Aisling was still young, and you doubted Hermann was the kind of man to shoot blanks.

All this preparation, and all for meeting some captains. "Are they really that big a deal? We are meeting with a representative, not the head of the Atreidae."

"Like the Harkonni, the Atridae like to have their extended family members head their outposts," Lydius says primly while making rings of your already curly hair. "And Madame Tzi is not one to be scoffed at, dear. Whatever the woman's... misandrous attributes, she manages to lead a fleet, especially one as large and ragged as hers. A dangerous old thing. Don't let her sink your barb into you!"

Going over the warnings in mind, you look at the slab of polished bronze in front of you to have another look at yourself...

>With these robes of royal purple and the jewelleries of Suerna, Alexandros adorned himself with the signs and symbols of royalty. Gold and bronze bands jingled around his ankles and wrists, and the heady scent of perfume (after he got over the first bout of sneezing) was nothing short of delightful. The glory of Suernic monarchs of old now dressed the boy-invader of their city, like some morbid remembrance of a city now fallen. It was a delightful feeling, this. For the first time in this life, he truly looked the part of Basileus.

>Caesar knew from firsthand experience as the proconsul of Gaul that luxury emasculated men. It was years of decadence that reduced Gaul to the point that a single man and his few legions could conquer the once-proud province. Wine, silk, baubles, gemstones - all well and good in moderation, but the Roman ideal remained his supreme in his mind: austerity, not vulgarity. Thus, he shed the extravagant robes and jewelleries and washed his face to remove the cloying-sweet scent of perfume, despite the protestations of Lynius. He would go as himself, not a dressed-up oriental monarch.

>Custom

>>3448658
>With these robes of royal purple and the jewelleries of Suerna, Alexandros adorned himself with the signs and symbols of royalty. Gold and bronze bands jingled around his ankles and wrists, and the heady scent of perfume (after he got over the first bout of sneezing) was nothing short of delightful. The glory of Suernic monarchs of old now dressed the boy-invader of their city, like some morbid remembrance of a city now fallen. It was a delightful feeling, this. For the first time in this life, he truly looked the part of Basileus.
We're going to need a great deal of opulence if we ever wish to conquer and rule sinae.

>>3448658
>Custom
Caesar knew the importance of fine silks and shining bangles in impressing Madame Tzi and the speaker of the Atreidae, but his Roman heart was rankled all the same by needless luxury and pomp: in the end he took the middle path between luxury and austerity, wearing robes of purple, understated ornaments and subtle fragrances -- he came as neither the preening aristocrat nor the unrefined mercenary leader.

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>>3448658
>Caesar knew from firsthand experience as the proconsul of Gaul that luxury emasculated men. It was years of decadence that reduced Gaul to the point that a single man and his few legions could conquer the once-proud province. Wine, silk, baubles, gemstones - all well and good in moderation, but the Roman ideal remained his supreme in his mind: austerity, not vulgarity. Thus, he shed the extravagant robes and jewelleries and washed his face to remove the cloying-sweet scent of perfume, despite the protestations of Lynius. He would go as himself, not a dressed-up oriental monarch

BUT

>It would not do to meet these others in pure plainclothes. And so he dressed not as the Austere nor as the Decadent, but as the Grandiose. Being a divine dictator, he would go in proper ceremonial armament, displaying a more forceful majesty.

>pic potentially related t. Not True Historian

Quite the diverse array of votes we have here, two of them customs to boot! Since it's a Saturday, I'll be checking throughout the day to see if consensus is achieved for the votes for another update.

>>3448667
Not necessarily! Emperor Wen of the Han Dynasty was known for his relatively ascetic lifestyle, and he was one of the better emperors.

>>3448678
An approximation of the outfit is possible, if this option gets the vote.

>>3448678
>>3448675
support
we'll take the middle road

>>3448774
>>3448678
>>3448675
Writing

File: the muscle cuirass.jpg (720 KB, 1944x2592)

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Anyone can be born king. It is a so-called birthright, given unto them before their little minds can be determined to be precocious or imbecilic. The Senate and the People of Rome was once ruled by such things, back in the distant days before her imperial dreams were realised. What little records remained of those times that wasn't confined to oral traditions told of tyrants and madmen, the last king especially known for his rapacious appetite for the wives of others.

Anyone can be king. It is those that earn their power who become Imperator.

Before the title took on such gaudy, imperial connotations, the title of Imperator was only becqueathed to those very privileged few who saved Rome. Scipio Africanus, who slew the accursed Carthaginians in their own home territory and destroyed their maritime empire forevermore; Camillius, the reviled and respected Second Father of Rome, who fended off the Gaulish invaders in Italica herself; Pompeius Magnus, Pacifier of the East, Despoiler of Pontus, Patron of Egypt, and husband to the only trueborn child of Gaius Julius Caesar.

You deserved the title once. A lifetime ago, when you controlled half of the known world. That does not grant you the right to claim it in this life. Without the achievements to back it up, there is no imperium, the supermagisterial authority uniquely granted to the Imperator. You would need to conquer an empire as great as Rome and enter its capital with a Triumph in order to deserve that title in this life.

>If you wish to adhere to Roman customs, you may not wear the royal purple cape until you celebrate the Triumph.

It is the military red that you don over which you strap the muscle cuirass of Venicius, your former mentor. Cloak of wolfpelt borrowed from Hermann dons your shoulders, the two ends snugly linked with a golden chain in Celtic motifs. Altogether you strike a martial look; nothing so fine as the armour of the triumphant Imperator celebrating his great victory, but martial nontheless. The Hispanian gladius that you liberated from the Spaniard rests against your hip with a comforting weight.

"You dress as if going to war," Lynius says with a raised eyebrow. Behind him the two handmaidens silently gather the fanciful dress that you discarded in favour of your current military accoutrements.

"Everything is war, uncle Lynius," you say with rare affection. You almost feel like a general again with this gear. If only you had your old legions, you could conquer all of India, and maybe Sinae as well. "Diplomacy is just war waged in the backrooms of diplomats and ambassadors." Already you are considering what to say, who to bring, and what to do if the meeting does not go well. Among the roster of his troops, you bring...

>Cohors prima Suernicum

>Cohors secunda Germanorum

>Auxilia I Gallorum Equitata

>Cohors Germanorum Equitata

>Equites Cataphractarii Parthi

>No one

>Custom

>>3448846
>Equites Cataphractarii Parthi
>A mixed detachment of both German and Gallic cavalry, just to show them off

>>3448846
>Equites Cataphractarii Parthi
>A mixed detachment of both German and Gallic cavalry, just to show them off

>>3448846
>Equites Cataphractarii Parthi
>A mixed detachment of both German and Gallic cavalry, just to show them off

>>3448859
>>3448860
>>3448877
Vote closed, writing

File: knights.jpg (1.24 MB, 1493x1017)

1.24 MB JPG

Two hundred hooves thunder down the dusty road from Muziris. Equines of such strength are strangers to these places, this being a land more used to ornery asses and water buffaloes. Farmers ankle-deep in mud turn their head in surprise from the sound, only to gape their mouths in shock. And well they might!

At the forefront are men and beasts of metal, like strange unliving caricatures of the real thing. The linked-metal flow like fluid water along with the motion of the mount and the rider, the waves of steel reflecting the sun in heavenly brilliance. The horses themselves seem like things out of this world; so large yet filled with grace, their wise eyes unburdened with bestial idiocy.

Behind the riders of steel come a group just as bewildering, and larger to boot. Barbarians! They are paler and hairier than the Yavanas that come to trade in the miles-off waters of Muziris, both mount and mounter rippling with burgeoning muscles that could replace ten of their own scrawny (and half-starved) men in work-force. The native women on the road to deliver foodstuffs to their husbands working the fields ogle with fascination these foreigners as they pass by until the dust settles far beyond them.

Life goes on for the peasants of Tamilakam, that minor highlight in their lives already forgotten in pursuit of more immediate needs.

--

"When I saw the dust clouds coming from the horizon, I half expected to greet a djinn," Aineas jokes. The Atreides is dark-skinned from decades of living under a harsh sun. He wears the long and modest clothes of a well-off merchant in his day off, after the local fashion. He pours two goblets of wine - real wine, none of the local stuff - and hands one to you. "It has been many years since I've seen horses so fine, or indeed in such numbers. Do you trade in horses?"

"They are not for sale," you say as you accept the drink. You pointedly refrain from drinking until Aineas downs his in one go, and even then demur from wetting your lips with the wine.

You are in the manse of Aineas of the House Atreides. Built in the Grecian manner with stone columns and open doors, they do its inhabitants no favour in terms of sparing them from the muggy heat-filled air. The extensive garden that surrounds the estate does little to liven up the place, the imported trees and bushes wilting under the blazing Indian sun. Unlike the Harkonni who live where the clink of money and the shouts of sailors can be heard, the Atreidae tend to prefer basing their regional headquarters in places more secluded.

These are an aristocratic race of men, their blood blue before Troy was sacked. The sons of Atreus were intimately involved in the fall of the proto-Roman state, Agamemnon and Menelaus both being descended from the fearless king of Mycenae. To complicate matters, the Atreidae are a rival to the Harkonni.

>>3449172
You do not personally owe any allegiance to the latter. The very idea of being subservient to merchants is revolting. And the things you gleaned from what little crumbs of information your father and his lieutenants dropped about their overlords were unhelpful in forming a positive image toward the uniformly fat sons and daughters of Harkonnen. Price gauging, monopoly-making, outright piracy - the things this trading dynasty did would make Cassus blanch. Still, you have played along with the farce of being under the Harkonni for now.

"Do tell me when you decide to change your mind. I would like to feel the wind on my face again! India is no place for horses - proper horses, you understand, not some common donkey or other such poor excuses for mounts."

You smell your wine. Unmixed. "We are looking for better markets where horses are more of a prized commodity. An unreached market." You quietly place the cup back on the table without showing your disgust. So that's the way he wants to play it. To serve wine unmixed goes beyond mere slight; only the uncivilised would drink wine to get drunk, instead of mixing them with water to neutralise the deletrious effect of the madness-causing drink. From the way Aineas smirks, you know that he knows that you know about the insult done here.

"A market more untapped than here, in India?" he exclaims. "I don't know why you would bother. There are only cannibals and the like the further east you go from here. And reaching Sinae itself, well that's just the folly of youth speaking."

"Perhaps."

"It is considered to be polite to bring a gift to one's host," the Atreides merchant says, his mouth widening to reveal immaculate rows of ivory-white teeth. Unlike the corpulent, toadlike Harkonni, the Atreidae are thin and hawkish, one and all. This speciment sent all the way to far-flung India is no different. You feel as though you are being judged as a morsel of meat by this man. "Could it be that you brought one of the famed Nisaean horses for me?"

"Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes," you bat away his shameless gift-asking. "The last time our people gifted someone a horse, a city burned down." Though it is not too bad a comparison since you are here to suggest doing that very thing...

"Very droll, I'm sure," a feminine voice cuts in languidly into your literary duel with the Atreides. "Now if you two boys are quite finished with dick-jousting with each other, the adults in the room can go back to their business." Tzi sits reclined between two completely shaved men with remarkably effeminate features, the one on the left carrying her smoking-pipe while the one on the right massages her bare feet. The cup of wine offered by the host also lies untouched in front of her, the girl preferring to pull in smoke from the long pipe. She is... scandalously clad. You try not to let your gaze wander over the Sinaean beauty.

>>3449178

"This is business, you uneducated harlot," Aineas says dismissively. "Not that some whore from Seres would know what the word even means."

"Ex-whore, thank you very much," she replies primly. "I gave that particular job up when I had my third husband some fourty years ago. I now have men whore for me. Though I am not averse to purchasing some horses as diversion, if you change your mind about selling. I might even throw in a little... extra." Her winks and body language makes it clear what kind of "bonus" she has in mind.

How did that saying go? For every endings, there must be good beginnings- no, that's not the one you wanted to think of at this moment.

All's well that ends well.

You hope that this will end well.

>"A bitter once-noble clinging to his family name as his only source of power is no better than some whore who managed to climb her way out of the red light district, is it?"

>"Be more circumspect in your words, harlot. The man you address to belong to one of the oldest lines of nobility."

>"You are both idiots. Now that we've sorted out each others' position in the pecking order, can we finally get things moving?"

>Custom

I got writerblocked at choices.

>>3449187
>"A bitter once-noble clinging to his family name as his only source of power is no better than some whore who managed to climb her way out of the red light district, is it?"

>>3449187
>"For the last time, my horses are not for sale. What I came here to discuss was a very different sort of transaction."
The best way to say "you are both idiots" is to not engage in the insults and gloss the matter over, moving on to the real subject.

>>3449203
+1

>>3449203
Support
Caesar is above such petty matters.

>>3449203
+1

>>3449203
Supporting this.

>>3449203
Writing

"For the last time, my horses are not for sale. What I came here to discuss was a very different sort of transaction." Your low, even voice grabs their attention. Often it is the quiet voice that exudes the most weight, especially in the midst of a spirited dispute. The others find themselves having to silence their own mouths to be able to hear the other. "Yesterday afternoon, I sought audience with the Archer King to deliver the traditional greeting-gifts that a merchant of our caliber offers to the local rulers. I found the way barred, not by soldiers, but by political officers and courtiers."

"The crimson-wearing monkeys! They blocked my messenger when I tried to talk to the King about the rise in taxes." Aineas arches an aristocratic eyebrow at you. "I thought you Harkonni toads were behind that."

"I am merely a humble captain, Aineas, and this is my first time in Muziris. I would not know the gritty details of the political situation here. Though a certain acquaintance of mine informed me that the change was recent, and not for the better."

"The boy is paranoid," Tzi waves her longpipe dismissively. "A few more brotherly executions and sisterly poisonings, and he will feel safer. I wager he will stop that nonsense about "suppressing foreign influence" and "revitalising glorious Tamil culture"." She scoffs. "As if the mudskins have a culture to speak of. They are about as bad as you Yuans, strutting about as if they sat in the middle of the world."

"She says, using the speech of the Greeks," Aineas says, throwing a dark look at the girl- woman.

"Only because you barbarians do not understand what a proper language sounds like," she sneers.

"Waiting for the king to realise the folly of his anti-foreigner attitude is one way, though there is only one brother left in his kill-list," you interrupt. "The kingdom will suffer with the oppression of international merchants until the king realises how reliant his treasury is on welcoming them with open arms. But how long will that take?"

"Months, years, maybe even a decade," Aineas says. "I don't know this Nedum. I was investing on the third brother, and he was executed two weeks ago."

"No one expected the fourth son to inherit the throne," Tzi says. "Much too volatile by far and a known philanderer with bastards across three red light districts. Lord Uthiyan may have loved his children equally, but even he recognised the folly of crowning such a child."

"And a vicious man is prone to making irrational decisions. What if this is not the end? Raising import taxes, increasing docking fees, maybe even..." you prepare to say the magic word, "nationalise."

You note with satisfaction that the two merchants are capable of visible reactions from that dreaded word. It always worked with Crassus.

>>3451539

"He wouldn't dare." Aineas grips his wineglass tight. "Chera is nothing without trade. Everything the three kingdoms achieved is thanks to us!"

"We would just relocate," Tzi says, though her offhanded words clash with the faintest of a frown creasing her porcelain face. "Plenty of other ports in Tamilakam other than Muziris."

"Yes, but the moving costs." Aineas winces. "Bulk renegotiation of new contracts." Tzi's shoulders tense. "Having to come into understanding with an entirely new monarch. All these bothersome things that could simply not happen in the first place." You fold your hands together, fingers intertwined. "We were here first; the Harkonni, the Atreidae, and..." you cock your head to the side.

"The Radiant Golden Dawn Fleet," Tzi adds helpfully.

"Yes, that. Why should we be muscled out? Who is this new king, anyway? He is nothing without the flood of financial boons we shovel into Tamilakam on a yearly basis. I suggest we show these warrior-nobles who really own Muziris."

---

By maneouvering the conversation to focus on the true enemy of the economic power-houses, Caesar ensured that their hate-filled eyes would be on the new Archer King. An agreement struck, a decision made; the triumvirate is formed.

In the matter of actually executing the operation, Caesar...

>Demanded full overall command of the battle, citing his experience in military matters.

>Suggested that each member of the Triumvirate lead their own contingent of marines and armsmen to do as they will by dividing the urban setting of the capital among themselves.

>Custom [write-in]

>>3451540
>Demanded full overall command of the battle, citing his experience in military matters.
How do they fare as generals? If they're no good we can convince them to let us deploy their troops in tough spots and graciously offer to fill in for the casualties.

>>3451540
>Demanded full overall command of the battle, citing his experience in military matters

>>3451546
It's not something you would know. Tzi seems to captain her own fleet, while Aineas is almost certainly the sedentary type who relies on others to actually do the captaining while he stays in the regional headquarters near Muziris to oversee the inflow/outflow of cargo.

>>3451573
In that case, Aineas seems to be ripe for exploitation if we can avoid rousing the suspicions of House Atridae.

>>3451540
>Demanded full overall command of the battle, citing his experience in military matters.

>>3451540
>Demanded full overall command of the battle, citing his experience in military matters.

>>3451679
>>3451623
>>3451565
>>3451546

Conscript fathers, the minds of these merchants are vile; conniving, purse-clutching things that they are, they do not acknowledge the wisdom in handing over full command to one more knowledgeable in such matters than they.

Fortuna asks that three rolls of a hundred-sided die be rolled.

>Roll 1d100

Rolled 85 (1d100)

>>3451686

Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>3451686

Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>3451686

>>3451697
The orator does it again! The man could sell ice to Eskimos at this point.

>>3451915
Actually we use a lower = better system for dice, the 13 saved you there.

Aineas is the first to give in. He knows he is not exactly a leader of men, and you doubt he's held a sword in his hand in his life. The man may be lean, but that wiry muscle is the product of genetics and a privileged but disciplined lifestyle. After a token level of resistance, he relents. "Seven hundred of the House Guard."

"Seven hundred?" you tilt your head inquiringly. "The Harkonni mercenaries here have two thousand men at their disposal."

"Two thousand mercenaries, Captain Alexandros," AIneas reminds you. "Killers-for-hire. The Atreidae House Guard is nothing like your foreign riff-raff. Besides, I need some of them at hand to guard our storehouses still." Looking at your dubious look, he chuckles. "You will find them a well-disciplined army, with top of the line gear, if not experienced in actual combat. Only the Five Hundred would beat them in a straight up battle, and there's no worry of facing them here, busy as they are in the wars in Parthia." You refrain from updating his old information.

Tzi is much more reluctant in relinquishing her hold on her troops, but in the end she hands over (rather grumpily) the three thousand armsmen she uses to keep order on her fleet. You suspect they will be an ill-disciplined mob, more used to repelling boarders (or boarding on other ships themselves - you can't help but smell the stench of piracy in this foreign woman) but as long as you can direct them toward somewhere and tell them to go wild. "Make sure you return my people in one peace, golden eyed one," Tzi mock-threatens you. A crash of earthenware prevents you from answering.

"What was that?" Aineas says, turning to Tzi with suspicion in his eyes. "You! This was a diversion! Trying to steal something again from my house?"

"Oh, do be quiet," Tzi snaps. "You think I would come all the way here myself just for your mother's pearl necklace? If you are so paranoid, you shouldn't have invited me to your mansion."

"Silence, both of you," you say as you rise up to your feet, the gladius already unsheathed. Sound of running feet can be heard against the lukewarm marble floor, nearing the conference room. "We have visitors." You hear the muted clings of chainmail under cloth. "They are armoured."

"I posted guards in the perimeter," Aineas protests.

"Then they were overwhelmed," you reply grimly. "If you have weapons-"

The hardwood door caves in from the other side in a shower of splintering wood.

>>3452270

Captain Alexandros, Caesar Reborn: Healthy
Combat = 30DC [Healthy +5DC, Skilled +5DC, Unnatural Strength +5DC, Muscle cuirass +5DC, Gladius Hispaniensis +10DC]
AV = 5DC [Muscle Cuirass +5DC]

VS

Assassin: Healthy
Combat = 35DC [Healthy +5DC, Fish-scale armour +10DC, Crucible steel Khanda +20DC]
AV = 10DC [Fish-scale armour +10DC]

Crit-fail = Suffer a mighty blow (3 degrees of damage sustained AND dismounted/disarmed)
0 Success = Suffer a solid blow (2 degrees of damage sustained)
1 Success = Exchange glancing blows (1 degree of damage inflicted and sustained)
2 Success = Inflict a solid blow (2 degrees of damage inflicted)
3 Success = Inflict a mighty blow (3 degrees of damage inflicted)
Crit-pass = Inflict a killing blow (what it says on the tin)

>Personal Combat DC 45 (Roll Under)
>3 rolls of 1d100
>Extraneous Effects
>1 roll of 1d100 to Bleed the opponent (Gladius Hispaniensis)

Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>3452287

Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>3452287
Here goes.

Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>3452287

Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>3452287
Bleed scum

Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>3452628
>>3452488
>>3452476
>>3452290

>2 Success
>Bleed!

Rolling for enemy AV...

The lone assassin rushes through the shower of wood, well protected as he is with metal and leather. His visage is obscured by layers of cloth revealing only his dark brown eyes. The strange sword that he carries has strange whorls like the surface of water, and you have just enough time to admire them as it juts forward, forcing you to take a step back to prevent another death by stabbing. You've had quite enough of dying, thank you very much.

The pulse of your blood drums against your ears as adrenaline rushes across your body, spreading its intoxicating effects and making your fingers tingle. What I would give for a shield at hand, you think. Something to parry the sword with... The attacker holds his sword with both hands to give strength for a downward swing. The blow is fast enough to kill any man, if it connected. Battle experience grants you enough martial acumen to notice the telegraphed attack.

You swat the sword off its course with your own gladius, eliciting a frustrated roar, which cuts off with a surprised grunt as you plant your Roman-style shortsword into his gullet. You withdraw just as quickly, evading a horizontal cut from him. Slowed by the pain.

The spray of blood as you withdraw makes certain the prognosis. Gut wounds are terrible things, prone to infection more than not with all the vital organs situated in the human torso. That is the kind of injury the gladius was designed by their Iberian creators to inflict.

He is already dead. The only question is whether he will take others with him, and the warrior seems to understand as well. Backing up warily, you pick up the stool you were sitting on. Anything to block the enemy blade.

---

Captain Alexandros, Caesar Reborn: Healthy
Combat = 30DC [Healthy +5DC, Skilled +5DC, Unnatural Strength +5DC, Muscle cuirass +5DC, Gladius Hispaniensis +10DC]
AV = 7DC [Muscle Cuirass +5DC, Chair (one-use) +2DC]

VS

Assassin: Wounded, Bleeding
Combat = 25DC [Wounded -10DC, Fish-scale armour +10DC, Crucible steel Khanda +20DC]
AV = 10DC [Fish-scale armour +10DC]

Crit-fail = Suffer a mighty blow (3 degrees of damage sustained AND dismounted/disarmed)
0 Success = Suffer a solid blow (2 degrees of damage sustained)
1 Success = Exchange glancing blows (1 degree of damage inflicted and sustained)
2 Success = Inflict a solid blow (2 degrees of damage inflicted)
3 Success = Inflict a mighty blow (3 degrees of damage inflicted)
Crit-pass = Inflict a killing blow (what it says on the tin)

>Personal Combat DC 45 (Roll Under)
>3 rolls of 1d100
>Extraneous Effects
>1 roll of 1d5 to bleed, success on 1 (Gladius hispaniensis)

Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>3453451

Rolled 98 (1d100)

>>3453451
>Khanda

Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>3453451

File: disgustipated.jpg (56 KB, 524x336)

56 KB JPG

Rolled 3 (1d5)

>>3453460
>>3453472

Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>3453455
>>3453460
>>3453472
>>3453477

>1 Success
>Bleed

Rolling for enemy AV...

File: khanda.jpg (292 KB, 1920x1080)

292 KB JPG

Desperation fuels intent. "Wha-?" you cry out in surprise as the sluggish warrior suddenly picks up his pace, closing the distant between you and him with unexpected speed. You try to swat him off course with the cedar chair. The assassin bats the obstacle with his free hand - you hear a sickening crunch of bones as flesh contacts wood - neatly clipping your shoulder, the urukku-metal slicing through your muscle cuirass like butter.

With that wounding repartee he crumbles on the floor, his lifeblood spent in that final act of defiance. You quickly kick the sword away from his hand just in case, but a quick pulse-check tells you that the man is dead.

"Is it over?" Aineas peeks over the table, hastily thrown to its side to make an impromptu barricade. Tzi's head pops up a second later right beside his, together with her effeminate man-slaves.

"It's over." You shift your wolf cloak to hide your wound. You did not want to explain why his blood was the colour of molten gold. "Your men are almost as good as you claimed, Aineas," you say as you prod the dead assassin with your toe. Yep, dead as a doornail. "This one was clearly used to working as a team. Too many openings. If your guards hadn't taken care of most of them before they died, I would have had a rough time." Assassination attempt, arranged in such short order. Someone was keeping an eye on your movements.

"Who?" Tzi asks to no one in particular.

"Who indeed?" you echo her words. "Time enough to chew on that later. If they know we met here, they might even have an idea on the treasonous content of our talk. We cannot spare any more time. Aineas, can your house guards be mobilised by tomorrow?"

He is conflicted, you can tell. The man wants to take back more of his soldiers to make sure of his own safety first and renege on the deal so freshly made. To his credit, the honourable part of him wins the inner struggle. He nods. "You will have them come the morn."

"Likewise," Tzi says, her onyx-black eyes smouldering with anger. "An attack against me in broad daylight? This just became personal."

If the Archer King sent these men, then his plan backfired. That is if he did sent them. A deadly but manageable attack that galvanised these merchants... You choose not to put to words the suspicion that is beginning to form in your mind. You pick up the straightsword, double edged and with a blunt point. This won't be any good for stabbing.

>Crucible-steel weapon gained! Known in many names in as many regions (the most famous of which are wootz or damascus steel), these steel-alloy weapons are renowned for their toughness, resistance to shattering, and an incredibly sharp edge. Its superplasticity allows it to endure greater stress than conventional iron is capable of withstanding.

>>3453528

---

As he poured over the old maps under candlelight (many of them inaccurate or severely outdated) to get a grasp of the city's layout, Caesar wondered where to place the allied army. The expansive residential areas at the periphery of the capital city would be the easiest, he knew, being the least defended and patrolled areas of the city. It was also the furthest from the palace, which would force the Crimson Sashes to take longer in responding to the emergency, as well as give Venkata more time. But there was the ethical question of slaughtering civilians. If Caesar cared about such things. More practically speaking, the sheer width and breadth of the area would force him to use everyone.

The long unnameable river that connected the Capital to Muziri then to the ocean was the lifeblood for the local merchants. Most of the stalls of craftsmen and merchants lay on either side of the river banks, making them potentially easy prey if one were to use the military barges to go upriver and cause mayhem. However, Caesar doubted Venkata would appreciate the use of his military barges in so brazen an attack, thereby tying him to what he doubtlessly hoped would be seen as a foreign incursion.

The upscale areas deeper into the urban jungle of the city was filled with temples to the countless gods of the Indians as well as the dwelling places of well to do merchants. Crucially none of the Triumvirate would be affected. As related earlier, Aineas built up his Grecian villa far away from the smell and bustle of the city, and Tzi did not own any real estate outside of the docks. Here was promised the greatest amount of loot, though destroying this place could also cripple the economy of the Kingdom of Chera for years to come.

North of the towering palace-citadel itself furthest inland was where the nobility gathered in their gated communes, distanced from both the smell of the marketplace and the reach of commoners. This would be the toughest nut to crack with their walls and private militias, as well as the closest to the palace. Venkata's deirision toward the nobles aside, these were a warrior-caste, which suggested at leats a passing familiarity to the arts martial and militant. The Crimson Sash recruited heavily from these blue-blooded men to fill out their exclusive ranks. Caesar was certain that their response would be most immediate if the nobility were attacked.

Of course, now that he had the numbers from the other two merchants, he could choose to attack multiple places at once...

>Focus all combatants in one place.

>Attack multiple areas of the city. [cannot be done on Residential due to the size of the area needing all those men]

>Put the soldiers on standby to attack the palace itself and use fire instead to serve as the distraction. [Fire cannot be controlled easily once started]

>Suggestion?

>>3453534
>Attack multiple areas of the city. [cannot be done on Residential due to the size of the area needing all those men]

>Put the soldiers on standby to attack the palace itself and use fire instead to serve as the distraction. [Fire cannot be controlled easily once started]

Both, attack the temple district with a portion of our force, then when we're reasonably sure that most of their force has sallied out, proceed with a fire attack on the noble's district.

>>3453565
Yes, this is the best idea.

>>3453534
>Put the soldiers on standby to attack the palace itself and use fire instead to serve as the distraction. [Fire cannot be controlled easily once started]
Honestly, I think >>3453565 is spreading our forces too thin. The point of using fire is to not have to divide our forces, so why divide them anyway to pull the enemy out into the temple district?
Set fire to the residential district as a distraction, then attack the palace with full force.

>>3455077
>Set fire to the residential district as a distraction, then attack the palace with full force.
But then this wouldn't draw out the enemy force. An outside threat has to be real enough

Well, looks like your minds aren't quite made up yet. Need to go to sleep soon but I'll check in again on the morrow!

>>3453534
>>3456426
Ehh fuck I'll support this to speed it up
>>3453565

>>3453565
Supporting

>Attack multiple areas of the city. [cannot be done on Residential due to the size of the area needing all those men] (Temple)
>Put the soldiers on standby to attack the palace itself and use fire instead to serve as the distraction. [Fire cannot be controlled easily once started] (Noble)

As the minute details of the attack was hashed out among the coven of conspiracists via letters shared by messengers running to and fro, Caesar ruminated over the attack that took place in Aineas' residence. It was not exactly a secret meeting - trade cartels and merchant lords met in official and unofficial capacity more or less every day in the bustling riverside settlements of Muziris - but the fact that it provoked an assassin, so well-equipped and trained, was a cause for concern. Ffiteen more bodies were found outside the old Atreides merchant's house, a mix between your host's guards and the attackers. All told, there were four of them. This gave Caesar renewed respect for the Atreides House Guard. They couldn't have had more than a minute or two with the surprise on the attackers' side.

Both merchants denied that their side was the cause of the leak, and Caesar believed them. After all, they had no idea he would gently stir them toward what was an act of treason, perhaps even bordering on regicide if the unfortunate were to occur. His own lieutenants who were present in the conversation between Venkata and he were the only ones who knew the full extent of the conversation.

Hermann was a stranger here, with no sign of having ever traveled all the way east to India. Not with a tribe of his own to take care of, and all the horses he had. Micah had come to India before together with the late Captain Landros, but he was someone that Caesar trusted if only because of his Greek father's trust in him.

That left only Scrivener and Venkata himself.

>Caesar began to be increasingly suspicious of Vecht the Scrivener. The old man was literate - perhaps too much so. There was also the fact that he was capable of communicating in the local language. How did he come to that knowledge? Where was he taught? Why did he learn it, when his Company when it existed stayed primarily in Parthia?

>Caesar wondered about the convenient timing of the attack as well as the -number- of attackers; well-trained enough that they would be seen as an actual threat, but small enough in number to repel with a combination of alert guards and a bit of luck. Venkata could stand to gain much in forcing your - and the other merchants' - hand.

>Finding the possible explanations on either the Indian army captain or the archivist unlikely, Caesar returned his suspicious rumination over the German and the Jew.

>>3457494
>Caesar wondered about the convenient timing of the attack as well as the -number- of attackers; well-trained enough that they would be seen as an actual threat, but small enough in number to repel with a combination of alert guards and a bit of luck. Venkata could stand to gain much in forcing your - and the other merchants' - hand.
I shall side with Ockham here

>>3457494
>>Caesar began to be increasingly suspicious of Vecht the Scrivener. The old man was literate - perhaps too much so. There was also the fact that he was capable of communicating in the local language. How did he come to that knowledge? Where was he taught? Why did he learn it, when his Company when it existed stayed primarily in Parthia?

>>3457494
>Caesar began to be increasingly suspicious of Vecht the Scrivener. The old man was literate - perhaps too much so. There was also the fact that he was capable of communicating in the local language. How did he come to that knowledge? Where was he taught? Why did he learn it, when his Company when it existed stayed primarily in Parthia?

>>3457494
>Caesar wondered about the convenient timing of the attack as well as the -number- of attackers; well-trained enough that they would be seen as an actual threat, but small enough in number to repel with a combination of alert guards and a bit of luck. Venkata could stand to gain much in forcing your - and the other merchants' - hand.

>>3457494
>Caesar wondered about the convenient timing of the attack as well as the -number- of attackers; well-trained enough that they would be seen as an actual threat, but small enough in number to repel with a combination of alert guards and a bit of luck. Venkata could stand to gain much in forcing your - and the other merchants' - hand.
Showing the king that he had rooted out and killed conspirators against the throne *would* be a good way to get into his good graces.

Didn't want to interrupt anything, but I just got reading the interaction between Caesar and Augustus. It was actually one of the best interactions I've seen between two characters that I've read in recent memory. I didn't know how much I needed it until now, and wish I could read a more in depth conversation between them.

If this quest finishes or not, I really want to thank you for writing that.

>>3458615
Thank you. It's actually really hard for me with dialogues, since learning how to write essays don't really translate to writing realistic "chatting". I think I was managing it pretty decently in the Parthia-Suernan area as far as descriptions went, but once we came to India (an area I have very little knowledge in) it's been... exhausting to write, really. Add to that the series of unfortunate events disruption Chapter 8's progression and you have a tired and unhappy QM.

I guess I should go back and read that bit. I think it was the last time I had fun writing in a long while. It was in the middle of "too much fantasy" vs "its ok" conversation going on, but it was fun.

I'd originally begun this quest after a re-reading of the Commentarii de Bello Gallico and a chance perusal of Coolridge's "Kubla Khan", which led to the germination of an idea: what if Caesar was plumb middle in the absolutely balls-to-the-walls insane shenanigans that was the interdynastic pseudo-civil wars in China?

Hopefully we'll get there someday.

>Venkata
Vote closed, will write later in the evening, haven't eaten anything since yesterday when I ruined the batch of carbonara that I -just- had the ingredients for =.=

Shame I didn't get to write up the "My Son. My Octavian." option

File: Waves.jpg (19 KB, 852x480)

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The wind blowing in from the ocean into the Indian coast is like any other sea-breeze. Fresh, salty, and most importantly, chill. Coolness is a luxury ill afforded in the heated swamplands of the Tamilakam, the proxy-coast where merchants of both empires of the world - Seres to one side, Rome to the other - meet in proxy.

Such history hidden within those jungles! Improbable tales multiplied a thousand-fold in scale in the telling and retelling, all based on those near-mythical empires that are said to have flourished in the deep continental depth of this dark continent. The Indians, you've come to find out from personal interactions with them, enjoy their tale-tellings.

A faint smile comes on your lips as you remember the events of last night. The seller of that refreshing raw mango juice invited you to his daughter's wedding, and you had accepted. He was a poor man, one of the tens of thousands that live week to week without knowing if they will have enough food next week, but here he was, inviting one of the lord-captains themselves, the men who haul luxuries from nations beyond his reckoning.

Often it is those who are without that give the most freely.

There you entertained the vendor's daughters with tales of your swashbuckling voyages, complimented his wife, and drank and played with the kind-hearted seller of drinks late into the night. You had to leave the party mid-celebration, busy as you were, but not before quietly sidling a pouch of silver sesterces under the host's bedsheet.

Gaius Julius Caesar - ever the populares. There may have been a sliver of an apology within that coin pouch, knowing as you do what will happen to this city today.

You shake off the alcohol-drowsiness of last night and inhale deeply. Salt and birdshit may not make the most appetising of aromas, but it helps you shake off the sleepiness.

The pre-dawn sun oozes in the horizon, showing its hateful face once more, a promise of the heatwave to come. There will be more than one sources of heat for this city before the sun sets. Raising your hands, you caress the remaining wisps of cool ocean wind between your fingers.

"Alexandros. I thought I might find you here."

"Uncle Micah," you say without turning around, enraptured with the colour of the dark blue sky.

"Ever the early riser," the aged Jew sighs contentedly as he takes a sit on a crate. "Ahh, that's the stuff," he says when the wind rises. "The older I get, the worse my body grumbles about having to face the heat."

>>3459503

The product of a lifetime of military campaigns, you think. Your mind drifts back to events barely two years back. You were quite the rascal already at three years of age, consistently waking up in the morning to do "grown-up" things. Children are supposed to drink and shit and sleep, but try doing that on your second life without braining yourself against the floor out of boredom. There was a reason Landros had hired instructors both martial and clerical for the newly-uninfanted Alexandros.

"I like to face the morning before the sun does," you say. Before the loud things of the earth began their days, the earth was quiet. Standing alone on a sleep-filled ship and watching the waves crash endlessly is not unlike the quiet solitude of the ruler, except infinitely more relaxing.

"I wouldn't know about all that, I am just an accountant. I'm just here for the chill air, before the sun mucks that up." Micah smiles quietly, looking over the son of his friend and liberator. "Alexandros, son of Landros. Five years of age and already a man. If I had not renounced the superstitious nonsense of my forefathers, I would call it a miracle - the kind that I was taught from the Torah in my childhood."

"You were a child once?" you say impudently, turning around, and duck Micah's sandal with an easy grin.

"Impertinent child!" Micah laughs for a long minute. He doesn't reach down to his other sandal, so you ease your guard. "Yes, I was a child. Many, many years ago, too far back to reckon in my own head. There is such a thing as living too long, don't you think?" He shakes his head in sombre contemplation, and his threadbare head shifts his white, whispy hair with it. "I was not sure if Landros was sane when he said he wanted to look for this drink of immortality. In a way, I am glad he is dead. Do you know why, Alexandros?"

You wait for him to continue.

"Because immortality is a curse. Imagine living forever. Now imagine living, forever. Do you think you will enjoy living for all eternity? As long as you live, there are more pages to be filled in the story of your life. A tale without end..." he shudders, and not because of the wind. "That is the saddest tale of all. Worse than the stories that come to a halt before their rightful completion, or the kind that make you roll your eyes in disgust at how poorly it is made. This elixir of immortality your father sought may have caused him no end of trouble."

>>3459505

"Or not." Micah says after a long, contemplative silence. "He always was quite the active man, ever so optimistic. Maybe he would have enjoyed it, and I am just an old fool who is tired of his longer than necessary life."

The bell signalling the opening of the dining hall for breakfast rings into the silent morning air. Micah gathers himself, leaning heavily on his staff.

"Are you coming?" Micah inquires, looking back before the dark, shadowed maw into the belly of the ship.

You shake your head. "I'll enjoy the morning air a little longer." Micah waves with his free hand without looking back, and lowers himself into the ship. The darkness swallows his frail form.

"Perhaps life has no meaning without death," you whisper to no one in particular. "Yet in his deterministic attitude toward life, Micah forgets something. A small thing, an almost inconsequential element overlooked by so many men in their daily lives - and the reason I clawed my way out of that suffocating, rarefied air among the gods to live once more." Your mind wanders back to the words of an acquaintance from your past life.

"Dum spiro, spero."

While there is life, there is hope.

---

>>3459509

"I thought you said you had a legion," Aineas grunts. The two of you are mounted, him on his donkey, you on one of your own mounts. "That's not a legion, it's almost the same number as my own men."

"The numbers of a legion is not fixed, contrary to popular perception," you reply. "And these are men that have seen action, unlike yours."

"The Germanians probably did, I grant you. Barbarians that they are, they know nothing but fighting - but the footsoldiers? Half of them look like they've barely started growing hair under their balls."

You shrug. "And the other half are what remains of the Five Hundred. They'll keep."

Aineas opens his mouth in surprise, and you take the break in conversation to ride forward. "Albiorix! Hermann!" you shout, and the two cavalry leaders break off from their respective groups to meet you.

"Alexandros," Hermann acknowledges you with a short nod.

Albiorix is only a second behind. "About time we started exercising our horses!" he says with a wide grin. "Poor things were feeling abandoned in the stables."

"The infantrymen are ready. Well, ours are." You look at the unimpressively rabble-like armsmen from the Sihanese woman's fleet. At least they had the numbers. "The Atreides troops are fully mustered as well. You remember what your roles are."

"Of course, Alexandros."

>"The combined German and Gallic cavalry will wait for the footsoldiers to start attacking the temples, then converge on the mansions of the nobility to set fire on them."

>"My Germans will fight alongside the infantrymen in the temple district, while the Gauls lie in wait to start setting fire on the nobles' houses once the enemy forces are fully committed where we are."

>"While the infantry march toward the noble's district, we will begin our sorties in the temple destrict."

>Custom [write-in]

Forces under your command:

https://pastebin.com/VPGPSjnb

Temporary auxiliaries:

>Atreides House Guard - 702 (Heavy Infantry)
Though utterly green and inexperienced in any large-scale combat, these well-trained and well-fed men of the House Atreides are known for their personal allegiance to the once-noble house of Atreus.

>Sihanese Armsmen - 3,048 (Light Infantry)
This barely-constrained mob of a group consist of bullies, heavyweights, and other such "enforcers" that keep a semblance of order aboard Lady Tzi's fleet. They're more used to repelling pirates, or pirating themselves, which means they're completely untested for land warfare. Still, they might make good meatshields, especially for the initial attack.

>>3459518
>"The combined German and Gallic cavalry will wait for the footsoldiers to start attacking the temples, then converge on the mansions of the nobility to set fire on them."

>>3459518
>"The combined German and Gallic cavalry will wait for the footsoldiers to start attacking the temples, then converge on the mansions of the nobility to set fire on them."
This will ensure that the auxilia take the most casualties that we can fill in for. It'll let us get to China faster if we follow Lazy Tzi.

>>3459518
>"The combined German and Gallic cavalry will wait for the footsoldiers to start attacking the temples, then converge on the mansions of the nobility to set fire on them."

>>3459422
You still can.....

Like you said, it was the last time you've enjoyed writing something

>>3459518
>"The combined German and Gallic cavalry will wait for the footsoldiers to start attacking the temples, then converge on the mansions of the nobility to set fire on them."

"The combined German and Gallic cavalry will wait for the footsoldiers to start attacking the temples, then converge on the mansions of the nobility to set fire on them," Hermann concludes.

"My men have some experience in setting fire to things," Ambiorix says jauntily. "Don't worry about us."

"If only all the troops were so reliable. I'll be surprised if Tzi's mob straightens up for the fight ahead by the time the sun sets. Ready or not, we attack once the night shadows our approach." You look over the rows of soldiers before you. The silence that you beat into your new Roman-style soldiers pays off now, showcasing the stark difference your (admittedly severely under-strength) legion and the others.

Whereas Tzi's armsmen are a motley group of barely-functioning horde, and the Atreides officers constantly shout over the din of their numerically superior allies, your rookie legionaries are silent. Centurions walk between the neatly-ordered rows of men to watch over potential chatter, thwacking their helmeted heads if they even show the barest sign of opening their mouths.

"It's very... Roman," Hermann comments, his eyes glittering with suppressed dislike. "The eery silence before the battle. Cleanly stacked lines of men, every one of them prepared to do as their commandant's whistle tells them. No battle-cries, no angry shouts to energise them. It was like fighting against ghosts." A faraway look comes over his face as he replays the past chapter of his life before he was driven away from Galatia.

"The fucking olive-eaters knew how to make an army. No offence to you, Alexandros," Ambiorix says begrudgingly. "I know you Greeks also love their olives. It is an odd feeling, fighting with something so legion-like, instead of bashing their horsehair-plumed helmets."

"It was the most effective system I could think of."

"Effective. Yes." The German horsemaster nods reluctantly, shaking off the effects of his traumatic reverie. "One has to adapt if one is to survive, especially with limited resources. I will see you after the battle, Alexandros."

"And I you. Be safe."

---

The temples to the innumerable gods of the Hindus were dizzyingly decorated, each and every one of them. From the most minor of agrarian river-gods without a dedicated staff of monks to watch over it every day, to the largest and grandest of the towering monastic structure dedicated to their curious three gods who were also one, no expense was spared in making sure they looked dazzling even under the moonlit sky, their multicoloured paints reflecting the thousands of torches lit out and around.

It was little wonder that such a prosperous kingdom as this was so filled with visible poverty, when so much of their wealth was sapped toward worshipping these deities.

>>3462375

The march from the field of war where the infantrymen were assembled to the city proper was a loud and slow one, as Caesar expected. The armsmen were a volatile mass of men with little true control over itself. It was deep into the night when they finally arrived, and Caesar's ad-hoc allied troops found the temples well-guarded. Of course, he had never expected to sneak up to the city. Not with so many men, who were only recently joined together.

>Caesar made sure to keep back his legion as the reserve force, according to the time honoured strategem of the Romans. Contrary to the customs of the many war-like peoples of man, who usually sent all their forces immediately to try to overwhelm the other, the Romans preferred a more cautious, measured approach in withholding strategic reserves of fresh infantry to allow mid-battle rotations.

>Caesar decided that using his legion first to break through the ranks of the enemy would reduce overall casualty among the combined allied forces, and would even let him use the Sihanese armsmen as anything other than a rabble to be let loose. Thus he instructed his soldiers, together with the Atreides guard, to take the vanguard, with the undisciplined Sihanese at the back to wait until they could be put to use.

>Custom [write-in]

Red-sashed guards with the royal livery of their dynastic overlord stood shoulder to shoulder with the warriors among the monastic orders. No elephants; as Caesar suspected, those huge creatures were too lumbering and irritable to be roused so deep in their slumber. Chariots carried by donkeys and poor-quality horses, numbering at three hundred, was the extent of their "cavalry" capabilities. Of the rest, perhaps five thousand, or six. As described before, none of the Crimson Sashes could be described to be anything nearing true heavy infantry, and the monks seemed to have this curious idea that their long, flowing robes would be enough to protect their skin against opponents with swords and spears.

Perhaps they relied on their gods a trifle too much.

>Caesar stayed on his horse in his vantage point, some distance from the scene of battle. This was a good place to survey the carnage to come. This would serve him best in his role as the director of the battle, as was customary among Roman generals. Heroics were so overrated.

>Caesar resolved to ride forth into battle himself. He had never fought against Indians before, unlike Alexandros Basileus of centuries past; he wished to test himself against this race of men that defied the conquering king to the very end.

>Custom [write-in]

>>3462388
>Caesar made sure to keep back his legion as the reserve force, according to the time honoured strategem of the Romans. Contrary to the customs of the many war-like peoples of man, who usually sent all their forces immediately to try to overwhelm the other, the Romans preferred a more cautious, measured approach in withholding strategic reserves of fresh infantry to allow mid-battle rotations.
>Caesar stayed on his horse in his vantage point, some distance from the scene of battle. This was a good place to survey the carnage to come. This would serve him best in his role as the director of the battle, as was customary among Roman generals. Heroics were so overrated.
Let's use the time honoured Roman strategy that defeated Hannibal

>>3462388
>Caesar made sure to keep back his legion as the reserve force, according to the time honoured strategem of the Romans. Contrary to the customs of the many war-like peoples of man, who usually sent all their forces immediately to try to overwhelm the other, the Romans preferred a more cautious, measured approach in withholding strategic reserves of fresh infantry to allow mid-battle rotations.
We want to maximize sihanese casualties and minimize those of our legionaries.
>Caesar resolved to ride forth into battle himself. He had never fought against Indians before, unlike Alexandros Basileus of centuries past; he wished to test himself against this race of men that defied the conquering king to the very end.
Roman command methods are all well and good, but we are a demigod! We should be out there in the fray, cutting a path to glory!

>>3462429
>Caesar made sure to keep back his legion as the reserve force, according to the time honoured strategem of the Romans. Contrary to the customs of the many war-like peoples of man, who usually sent all their forces immediately to try to overwhelm the other, the Romans preferred a more cautious, measured approach in withholding strategic reserves of fresh infantry to allow mid-battle rotations.
We don’t want to waste our best in the early goings of it
>Caesar resolved to ride forth into battle himself. He had never fought against Indians before, unlike Alexandros Basileus of centuries past; he wished to test himself against this race of men that defied the conquering king to the very end.
Obviously, I want to ride in with the legionaries rather than the rabble. Imagine the shock of the Indians, feeling so good about butchering the slant-eyes only to hit a disciplined wall of men lead by a god himself.

>>3462388

>Caesar made sure to keep back his legion as the reserve force, according to the time honoured strategem of the Romans. Contrary to the customs of the many war-like peoples of man, who usually sent all their forces immediately to try to overwhelm the other, the Romans preferred a more cautious, measured approach in withholding strategic reserves of fresh infantry to allow mid-battle rotations.

>Caesar resolved to ride forth into battle himself. He had never fought against Indians before, unlike Alexandros Basileus of centuries past; he wished to test himself against this race of men that defied the conquering king to the very end.

>>3462388
>Caesar made sure to keep back his legion as the reserve force, according to the time honoured strategem of the Romans. Contrary to the customs of the many war-like peoples of man, who usually sent all their forces immediately to try to overwhelm the other, the Romans preferred a more cautious, measured approach in withholding strategic reserves of fresh infantry to allow mid-battle rotations.


>Caesar resolved to ride forth into battle himself. He had never fought against Indians before, unlike Alexandros Basileus of centuries past; he wished to test himself against this race of men that defied the conquering king to the very end.

File: Equites Parthica.jpg (670 KB, 1920x914)

670 KB JPG

>Caesar made sure to keep back his legion as the reserve force, according to the time honoured strategem of the Romans. Contrary to the customs of the many war-like peoples of man, who usually sent all their forces immediately to try to overwhelm the other, the Romans preferred a more cautious, measured approach in withholding strategic reserves of fresh infantry to allow mid-battle rotations.

>Alexandros resolved to ride forth into battle himself. He had never fought against Indians before, unlike Alexandros Basileus of centuries past; he wished to test himself against this race of men that defied the conquering king to the very end. Once the Sihanese mob was pushed forward by the more disciplined soldiers behind them toward the Indians, Alexandros rode down from the safety of the command post with Ariamnes and his companions.

Chariots are an outmoded means of mobile archery. They are unwieldy and resource-intensive, necessitating the investment of a wide variety of components. The metal chassis use up good metal that would otherwise go to the arms and armaments of soldiers. The drivers require long periods of training and acquaintance with their beasts, as they use multiple equines - no docile beasts at the best of times - to facilitate movement. Furthermore, even with all their investment the war chariot ends up slower and less navigable in anything less than a completely flat terrain compared to the horseman.

Their sole advantage lay in their relative speed versus that of infantrymen who relied on their own two feet. Theoretically, the chariots would maintain distance while the archers therein shot their missiles to the exhausted soldiers chasing them to no avail. Deadly in the times of the Age of Heroes when horses were the large, domesticated creatures that they are now. Any Roman legion with the full complement of equites would be able to fend off the sluggish charioteers away from their comrades on foot.

But Caesar's cavalry wings were not present.

The Indian war-chariots meander out of reach from the Sihanese horde, raining down arrows at their leisure. Atreidae hoplites and your legionaries are marching in to reinforce the vanguard of lightly-armoured armsmen, but it will not be enough.

"Chariots," Ariamnes says with barely-hidden delight"I haven't seen war chariots outside the murals in my father's palace. As I was a child, the scribes would drone on and on about their battle prowess. Kings of Egypt and Canaan and Babylon, all wheeling about with their metal mounts... where are they now?"

"Consigned to the dusty recesses of palace libraries and hidden archives." You unsheathe your gladius, swinging it experimentally. You find it a little on the short side for use on horseback.

>>3464633

While you consider switching to the longer sword you looted from the assassin, Senharib wrings his hands together nervously, reading through leathery pages - combat tomes he carried out from his home in Parthia. "It should be safe, but we don't have any documented case of heavy cavalry clashing against metal chariots in, oh, five hundred years or so. My lords, I recommend some caution, especially-"

"First one to reach fifty chariot kills wins!" The old Parthian knight whoops like a young hooligan and jumpstarts his Nisaean mount with a kick. The rest of his mounted retinue ride forth as if on cue, eerily silent save for the dull roar of hooves. You pause only to give the seneschal-servant an apologetic shrug, then join the charge.

It is time to show the people of Tamilakam why battle chariots are extinct in the horse-rich lands of Asia Minor.

---

Captain Alexandros, Caesar Reborn: Healthy
>Combat = +60DC [Healthy +5DC, Skilled +5DC, Unnatural Strength +5DC, Muscle cuirass +5DC, Gladius Hispaniensis +10/2DC, Mounted (Nisaean) +20DC, Charge 15DC] Gladii aren't suitable for mounted combat!
>Armour Value = 5AV [Muscle Cuirass +5AV]

VS

Indian War-Chariot, Ornate: Healthy
Indian War-Chariot, Plain: Healthy
Indian War-Chariot, Plain: Healthy
>Combat = 48DC [Health +5DC, Experienced (dhanurveda) +5DC, Longbow +10DC, Chainmaille Armour +10DC, x3 Coordinated Charioteers +18DC]
>Armour Value = 30AV [Iron Chassis +20AV, Shieldbearer +10DC]

Crit-fail = Suffer a mighty blow (3 degrees of damage sustained AND dismounted/disarmed)
0 Success = Suffer a solid blow (2 degrees of damage sustained)
1 Success = Exchange glancing blows (1 degree of damage inflicted and sustained)
2 Success = Inflict a solid blow (2 degrees of damage inflicted)
3 Success = Inflict a mighty blow (3 degrees of damage inflicted)
Crit-pass = Inflict a killing blow (what it says on the tin)

Doubles Pass = +1 damage ignores opponent AV or Dismounted/Disarmed penalty
Doubles Fail = Dismounted and/or Disarmed penalty

> (1) Personal Combat DC 62
>3 rolls of 1d100
>(2) Shock and Awe (Nisaean Horse)
>DC50
>1 roll of 1d100
>(3) Battle Progress Faltering 40DC
>3 rolls of 1d100

Lift the brazier-flames high to the gods as we make seven rolls of 1d100.

Rolled 30 (1d100)

>>3464634
Time for murder!

Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>3464634

Rolled 24 (1d100)

>>3464634

Rolled 24 (1d100)

>>3464634

Rolled 31 (1d100)

>>3464634

Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>3464634
Fuck it, here's another dice roll

Rolled 97 (1d100)

>>3464634
I see you still need one more.

Rolled 66, 56, 8, 16 = 146 (4d100)

>>3464636
>>3464643
>>3464662
>>3464760
>>3464829
>>3464907
>>3464972

Rolling for enemy 30AV and morale

>-1 Battle Progress [3]
>2 Damage inflicted.
>Enemy Critical Failure! Indian War-Chariot, Ornate has lost its Shieldbearer.
>Indian War-Chariot, Plain has fled the battlefield.

Such cumbersome things, these chariots. They are terrible at reacting to new elements introduced in the equation of the battlefield, as is shown by their sluggishness in reacting to your charge. The drivers shout in surprise as your majestic beast shining bright white under the pale moon crashes into their pre-arranged formation. Something about your mount spooks the common beasts pulling at the glorified carts, causing one of them to completely canter away from the battlefield, even as the driver vainly beats them with his riding stick.

One of the chariots had caught your eye when you rode down the hill - an ornate war-chariot with dusty gold decorations on the side in the shape of a bow-and-arrow, complete with scythed wheels. The added weight of all that as well as a third man - archer, driver, and a shieldbearer - is not slowing this chariot down, indicating superior beasts of burden as well. Commanders and leaders tend to decorate themselves to stand out from their minions as a means of rallying their men. Unfortunately, it also makes them very obvious targets to their enemies.

Gladius in hand and cursing inwardly at the shortness of the weapon, you turn your horse mid-gallop and swing - success! The shieldbearer tries vainly to stop your blade reaching his master as he loses his footing, tumbling into the ground, shield and all. You feel a satisfying thunk as your blade comes in contact with the back of the archer, eliciting a pained cry from the warrior-noble.

---

>Cautious - Double AV (Max 80), Total unsaved damage to Foe is halved (Rounding up)
>Guarded - Exchange of Blows does not inflict or sustain damage.
>Balanced - AV and Damage remain unchanged.
>Belligerent - Exchange of Blows does not inflict damage; +1 Damage to Foe if any unsaved damaged is inflicted.
>Audacious - Halve AV (Rounding up); Each point of unsaved damage to Foe is doubled.

Switch to the longer but similarly straight-bladed khanda? The extra reach will remove the +DC halving while mounted.

>Switch weapons to the khanda
>Keep using the gladius

>>3465165
>Switch weapons to the khanda

>>3465165
>Switch to khanda

>>3465169
>>3465177
Don't forget to vote on the combat style for next round! Balanced is the default.

>>3465179
>Belligerent

>>3465165
>Switch weapons to the khanda
>Belligerent - Exchange of Blows does not inflict damage; +1 Damage to Foe if any unsaved damaged is inflicted.
Honestly, I'm not sure I really follow the combat system. Going with belligerent for consensus.

>>3465165
>Audacious - Halve AV (Rounding up); Each point of unsaved damage to Foe is doubled.

>Switch to Khanda

File: 1542334629365.jpg (1.57 MB, 1920x2680)

1.57 MB JPG

>>3465313
Oops, I should probably show what I have at hand on the ruleset I am using. It's from ForgottenQM (of the Black Company fame) that he also used on Sworn to Valour, though it's occasionally modified here and there so I mostly do it by eye, if that makes sense. So what these infographics say is not completely accurate (they are pretty dated according to ForgottenQM himself) but it should give you a general idea of how it works.

1/2

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108 KB PNG

>>3465392

2/2

>Belligerent - Exchange of Blows does not inflict damage; +1 Damage to Foe if any unsaved damaged is inflicted.
>Vishtapah, Parthian Heavy Rider has joined your fight.

Captain Alexandros, Caesar Reborn: Healthy
Vishtapah, Azadan Follower of Ariamnes: Healthy
>Combat = +70DC [Healthy +5DC, Skilled +5DC, Unnatural Strength +5DC, Muscle cuirass +5DC, Crucible Steel Khanda +10DC, Mounted (Nisaean) +20DC, Vishtapah +20DC]
>Armour Value = 10AV [Muscle Cuirass +5AV, Guardian (Vishtapah) +5AV]

VS

Indian War-Chariot, Ornate
- Shieldbearer: SLAIN
- Charioteer: Healthy
- Archer: Injured
Indian War-Chariot, Plain
- Charioteer: Healthy
- Archer: Healthy
>Combat = 35DC [Injured -5DC Experienced (dhanurveda) +5DC, Longbow +10DC, Chainmaille Armour +10DC, Plain Chariot +10DC]
>Armour Value = 20AV [Iron Chassis +20AV]

Crit-fail = Suffer a mighty blow (3 degrees of damage sustained AND dismounted/disarmed)
0 Success = Suffer a solid blow (2 degrees of damage sustained)
1 Success = Exchange glancing blows (1 degree of damage inflicted and sustained)
2 Success = Inflict a solid blow (2 degrees of damage inflicted)
3 Success = Inflict a mighty blow (3 degrees of damage inflicted)
Crit-pass = Inflict a killing blow (what it says on the tin)

Doubles Pass = +1 damage ignores opponent AV or Dismounted/Disarmed penalty
Doubles Fail = Dismounted and/or Disarmed penalty

> (1) Personal Combat DC 85
>3 rolls of 1d100
>(2) Armour Piercing (Crucible Steel Weapon)
>DC33
>1 roll of 1d100
>(3) Battle Progress Hard Pressed 30DC
>3 rolls of 1d100

A companion joins the fray, lending his lance to your fight. Roll seven 1d100s.

Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>3468318
check this crit

>>3468318

Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>3468318

Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>3468318
Here's another roll, to hurry this along just a tad more

Rolled 51 (1d100)

>>3468318

Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>3468318
Since we need 3 more...

Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>3468318

Rolled 83 (1d100)

>>3468318

Rolled 9, 2, 37, 30 = 78 (4d100)

>>3468403
>>3468440
>>3468516
>>3468552
>>3468638
>>3468794
>>3469014

Rolling for enemy AV

>-2 Battle Progress Doomed [1]
>7 Damage inflicted!
>Archer, Ornate Indian War-Chariot: Slain
>Archer, Plain Indian War-Chariot: Slain
>With their archers dead, both War-Chariots have been routed.
>Personal Combat Victory: +5DC in next Battle Progress roll!

"Benedictions upon you from Yazadan and my master Ariamnes!" the Parthian cataphract shouts as he rides alongside you. "He who is wise beyond years has sent me to assist in you the destruction of our enemies. My lord's instructions were threefold: for me to pass on his compliments on your boldness in charging forward so recklessly with an unarmoured horse, and to hand you this!" He tosses a lance which you grab with one hand. It is a kontos, the cavalry war-lance that Ariamnes and his men sported while charging to their enemies. You test its balance with your left hand, reaching with the right to stroke your mount's sweating cheeks, and find it somewhat heavier on the end-tip; better to drive into your enemies with.

>Parthian Kontos gained! When used while mounted and charging, ignore enemy AV. Chance to break.

"Well met, Companion of Ariamnes! It was getting lonely striking at the enemy alone. I will personally thank your master once the battle is done."

"That is not to be for hours yet, Lord Alexandros." He points to the Sihanese masses, scattering or already dead. You can see the Indians charging forward to slaughter the fleeing armsmen, the lack of heavy armour on both sides having allowed the better-trained force to overcome the initial wave of manpower, eventually. With the tunnel vision of combat clearing up, you realise that this shift in the battle line means you are deep behind enemy ranks, though only in the periphery for now Most of the Indians are too busy chasing the backs of the Sihanese, but already some of the Crimson Sashes approach the two lone horsemen to their flanks. "The Sihanese are routed, so we must hold on until the hoplites and your legionaries arrive. My final order from wuzurgan Ariamnes was to escort you out to safety beyond the reach of the Hindus."

"What is your name, soldier?" It is impossible to tell these Parthians apart once they're clad in that all-covering armour of theirs.

"This one has the honour of having been named Vishtapah, after the wild horses of the plains."

"And who do you answer to, Vishtapah of the plains?"

"My lord Ariamnes, honoured one."

"And he answers to me." You grasp the kontos with your dominant hand. You feel your horse's exultation in battle in the form of his heavy exhalation, the vibration from them shaking your legs. It is his first battle, a fresh blooding for this as of yet nameless mount. Such energy and enthusiasm! Truly, these horses were tailor-bred for war. The stench of shit and piss and blood does not make this noble creature shy away.

>>3469370

>"I will ride out to safety with Ariamnes and all his living men, or not at all. Where was your master last seen?" [VIRTVS]

>"Does he think to hog all the glory to himself? The old man has some thinking to do if he truly believes he can muscle me away from the battlefield!" [COMITAS]

>"I am countermanding your master's order, Vishtapah. We will hold the line until the Atreidae troops arrive." [DISCIPLINA]

>Custom [write-in]

>>3469382
>disciplina

>>3469382
>"Does he think to hog all the glory to himself? The old man has some thinking to do if he truly believes he can muscle me away from the battlefield!" [COMITAS]
This is our Greek body's first real taste of battle. Hellenic blood SEETHES in our veins, it cannot be ignored!

>>3469382
>"Does he think to hog all the glory to himself? The old man has some thinking to do if he truly believes he can muscle me away from the battlefield!" [COMITAS]

>>3469382
>>>"I will ride out to safety with Ariamnes and all his living men, or not at all. Where was your master last seen?" [VIRTVS]

>>3469382
>"I am countermanding your master's order, Vishtapah. We will hold the line until the Atreidae troops arrive."

Oh hell nah. Stand and fight cowardly dogs

>>3469382

>"Does he think to hog all the glory to himself? The old man has some thinking to do if he truly believes he can muscle me away from the battlefield!" [COMITAS]

>>3469382
>"I am countermanding your master's order, Vishtapah. We will hold the line until the Atreidae troops arrive." [DISCIPLINA]
>We will hold the line until the Atreidae troops arrive
Who is 'we'? Caesar and the cataphract?

Does it mean rallying the fleeing armsmen?

>>3471365
Hadn't even thought of letting you rally the fleeing armsmen! If you or other anons make a good rallying speech, I would use it to possibly enable that scenario.

>>3469370
Supporting >>3471365. Trying to think of something to write, but it might take a while so if someone beats me to the punch then that's ok too.

>>3471594
Thinking hard how to make a speech for people whose tongue we don't speak.
It should be more act than words, perhaps find an island of resistance among the routed and assist them with our military prowess. These sihanese can't all be rabble?..

Hadn't updated yesterday because the votes were tied, now that DISCIPLINA has won I'll put up a new thread

>>3473477
New thread!