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| The birth and rise of Neo-Akkadia | |
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| Topic Started: Aug 31 2007, 10:25 AM (357 Views) | |
| Deleted User | Aug 31 2007, 10:25 AM Post #1 |
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OOC: Hey all, I'm new here, so I thought I'd start off the story of my little nation. I'm planning on a very long story here, as I'm starting in 635, with the Omayyad besieging of Damascus. I am looking at making an alternate history, and hope to get a place on the map in the modern Middle East eventually. It would be great if others wanted to join in and play the other major powers in this story, but for now I'd like to start it off on my own. So with no further adue, I shall begin. :) _______________________________ My name is Nidintu-Bel, which in my native tongue means "The Babylonian". I am a general in Yazdegerd III's army, in a time of utter turmoil and uncertainty. The year is 635 AD; the Sassanid kingdom is poised to tear itself apart, the Byzantine Empire postures and declares its mighty Roman right to conquest, and the thundering roar of the cries of mighty Jihad rumble in the south. Yet neither Sassanid nor Byzantine King seems to notice; they are far more intent on tearing each other apart, over fighting for the city of Damascus. So many times has this great city changed hands in the past hundred years; so much has been lost. These ceaseless wars, these terrible conflicts, but none of these matter, for all are about to be engulfed in a war to end all wars. I should tell you why they call me Nidintu-Bel. I was born in Ctesiphon, as Persian as the next Sassanid, and spent most of my life there. My mother was the distant niece of the King, so while I never lived in the splendour and majesty of the direct royal family, I did not live in squalor, and was free to study to my hearts content. I travelled to Babylon in my later years and studied the history of the area, of Sumer and Babylon, Akkadia and Assyria, later Persia, then Parthia, now Sassanisa. So much change, so many wars, and yet nothing at all had changed. I thirsted for knowledge, I thirsted for something new, something seperate from the rest of the world. But I had no choice but to be a part of it. I was of royal blood, and I was expected to lead and to fight, particularly since my worldly knowledge enamoured King Yazdegerd III, made him believe I was well suited to the task. It was he who named me Nindintu-Bel, and ever since I have sought to embody the name... for by now I was surely more Babylonian than Sassanid, at least at heart. Perhaps not in the sense that the Babylonians had truly been, but who knew how they were? No, I did not long for the past, but rather the future, a great age of prosperity and culture, much as great Babylon or Akkadia had been. But such chances do not come easy, and for years I served as general, commanding troops against Byzantines. I fought at Damascus several times, and in 635 I was commanded to again... but this time it was different. We weren't just fighting the Byzantines this time, we were fighting the Omayyad's too; the mighty Arab Kaliphate had decided to throw its lot in the ring. This time I had no thirst, no desire to defend the Empire. Sassanasia was trembling, the strikes of its enemies' blows were causing it to shatter and collapse. If Sassanasia did not do something drastic, it would be no more, and winning the battle of Damascus would be as effective at stopping the Arab invasion as throwing a rock at a great tidal wave. Sassanids and Byzantines were doomed alike, and so were my men and I. On the eve that we were ordered to march, I addressed them, and suggested we besiege a new target, one of far more importance. "My friends," I recall bellowing out over my numerous charges, "I do not adress you tonight to embolden you for the fight ahead. I do not intend to deceive you into thinking that Sassanisa shall triumph over the great Jihad that has been called on Damascus. Do you truly think that fighting over the same city we have been fighting over for the last century is going to help? Do you truly believe that many of you will come back alive when we are fighting not one, but two enemies? One of which has made even the mightiest Emperors tremble?" The croud murmured and looked around in shock, I did not give them time to think about how they should react and pressed on, "The time has come for action. If we are to survive as a people, and not come under the yoke of the Arabs, we must take a new target: Akkad. The city that has not stood for nearly a thousand years. The city that is neither Sassanid, nor Omayyad, nor Byzantine. It is neither Akkadian nor Babylonian. It is hope. It is the limit of our own ability. I believe you are just as tired as I of the constant wars; I do not propose we spark another Civil War to achieve our ends, we have had more than enough of that in recent years. No, instead I propose we begin building our own city, free of any King, no matter what nation, and I propose as a neutral state we work to convince both Sassanid and Byzantine alike that we must work together to halt the advance of the great Jihad." I could see that my words were having some effect, though the men were still stunned, unsure whether to cheer, run away or execute him as a traitor, "It will take time. It will take work... and we could very well fail and face the Sassanid army as traitors. I will not work my rhetoric and try to convince you otherwise; but this I promise you: there is no other way. Let the rest of the army march on Damascus now, it will make no difference. If Byzantine and Sassanid fight one another as well as the Omayyad, Damascus will fall. If, however, we suceed... if I can speak to the Kings of the two nations and make them see reason, convince them not to fight one another, convince Yazdegerd not to wage a civil war, to grant us our independence, to allow myself to act as intermediary... then maybe, just maybe, we will have a chance. So, my friends, I ask you as your equal, not as your King, to stand beside me in yet another campaign, albeit a different one, to wage a war of a different kind, and help me sculpt a city, a nation and freedom from the dust and rubble of the fertile crescent at Akkad. Who is with me?" There was a deathly silence, and a low murmur erupted again. For a moment my heart sunk, I was sure all my words were as if I were alone in the barren desert, screaming vainly at the empty dunes. I gulped as I began to consider the great possibility I would be considered a traitor, and the horrible fate that would ensue. But then Phriapateus, a commander, raised is weapon and bellowed, "Aye! I've stood by you through worse, and I'd do it again!" Another echoed his agreement, then a chorus erupted across the army. I let out an audible sigh and grinned ear to ear, "To Akkad! To the future!" I bellowed, and they echoed it back at me. I felt the adrenalin pumping through my veins, the heaviness of this course of action was all too well known, the trials and tribulations that lie ahead I was not in ignorance of. It was all too possible this would trigger another civil war, and that his meagre army would be defeated by Yazdegerd, or any number of pretenders that may rise to claim Sassanisa... but if that was the case, it wouldn't matter... if he failed they were doomed one way or another, just as they would be if he never tried at all. |
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| Quaon | Aug 31 2007, 10:38 AM Post #2 |
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A Prince Amoung Men-Shoot First and Ask Questions Later
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OOC: Welcome! If you're going to actually Roleplay your past, you might want to use this forum: http://z3.invisionfree.com/nationstates/in...hp?showforum=57 |
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| Ignatius | Aug 31 2007, 05:29 PM Post #3 |
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2nd Lieutenant
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OOC- Cool, I'd be more than interested to rp in. |
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| Deleted User | Sep 1 2007, 03:28 AM Post #4 |
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Deleted User
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OOC: Great Ignatius. :) I'll be wanting someone to RP the Sassanids, the Byzantines and the Omayyads, so if you want to choose one and let me know, I'll work the story to the point where I'm happy for others to jump in and let you know. _______________________________________________ It did not take long to reach the ancient ruins of Akkad from Babylon, but it felt like an eternity. Each step along the way had me contemplating the best way to approach Yazdegerd, even though I'd already thought it over a thousand times before. When we reached the site, I ordered the troops to make camp and they swiftly erected their tents and began patrolling. I ordered a small group to scout the ruins, see if there were any destroyed buildings with enough left over materials to be rebuilt. The same night I rode out with a small guard towards Ctesiphon and to the royal palace. It was only a days ride, and despite being utterly exhausted, we pressed on through the night and early morning, reaching the palace in the glaring heat of the midday sun. After approaching the inner sanctum, I declared my intention to speak to Yazdegerd. Being only a distant great nephew, and not a highly ranked general, I would normally have to wait for several hours to see him; but not today. Virtually moments afterwards Yazdegerd's guards burst out of the doors to the inner sanctum, siezed me and dragged me inside, throwing me at the floor before the stairs leading to the throne. I heard a growl as from a desert tiger from the top of the stairs, but I ignored its threatening nature. I drew myself up, dusted myself off and bowed reverently. I was about to speak first, but he beat me to it. "You had best have an explanation why you are here and not fighting to defend the great Empire at Damascus!" he growled loudly. "My King, please understand my intentions are none other than for what is in the best interests of us all," I cleared my throat, taking a moment to carefully consider my words, "You asked me to defend the Empire, and that is what I am doing. You also asked me to fight at Damscus, but these two requests are contradictory. I could lead my men to certain death at the hands of the Omayyad, but it would only serve to weaken the Empire-" "You coward!" he screamed, "you dare insult me with this filth?" "Please, my lord, let me explain. We can defeat the Arabs, of this I am certain, but it will take more than the might of Sassanisa alone. The Byzantines have a new enemy too, and they have just as little chance of defeating the Omayyad as we do - while they fight alone. It is said that the enemy of my enemy is my friend; I believe we should take this to heart. Were we to stop fighting the Byzantines and work together to defend Damascus, our might would be four fold." He seemed visibly tempered by this proposition, but he still wore a deep scowl, "Our kingdoms have been at war for 400 years. And our ancestors were warring for hundreds of years before that. They would never accept such a proposition!" "They would never listen to a Sassanid, no. I am well aware of that. That is why I must ask this of you: for a long time you have called me Nidintu-Bel, and I have become that man. I am no longer truly Sassanid, and I am of little use to you in the position I have now. My men and I seek to found a new city, amongst the ruins of Akkadia. Let me have this land, it is of no use to you, it is nothing more than dust and wind, a bleak desert where the ghosts of the past haunt. I shall hold the land in lieu of you, of course, I shall not pretend that I am not of your domain, but grant me some autonomy, to act independently, to liase between you and the Byzantines. I shall lead my men to war against the Omayyad, but at the head of both armies, and I shall fight for my own city, for Akkad. I shall fight for freedom from the Arab yoke, for myself, for you and for the Byzantines." "And if I refuse?" "Then I will remain steadfast. I will dig my heels into the sand and struggle for the freedom I request. King, Sassanasia is collapsing, you know as well as I we cannot survive another civil war, not when we are being pressed from the West and from the South. The price I ask is a small one to pay, if I am successful. Emperor Constantine III would not entertain a Sassanid ambassador... but an Akkadian he may give a chance to. Is it not better to allow your nephew, who will recognise your patronage, to rule a small city of no value to you, than it is to watch your Empire be conquered by the Kaliphate?" He mused for a moment longer, his face still holding the same deep scowl, but he was obviously much more at ease now. He seemed to be allowing reason to overrule the sense that I was challenging his monarchical authority, and eventually he waved his hand in a sharply dismissing manner. "Go, attempt your foolish plot. You will fail, and when you do I shall have you executed for treason. However if, if you somehow manage to convince that dullard Emperor to push aside his Roman vanity and to work with us... then you will have your wish." I thanked him profusely and left. That night I slept in the palace with my entourage and prepared to ride for Constantinople the next day. I sent one man on horseback to Akkad in order to inform the men, and to urge them to build as much as they were able to with their limited resources. I would not return for many weeks, and by then much could have changed... Yazdegerd may change his mind... but then again, he may not even make it that far. Constantine III may kill him for even proposing such an offer; only time would tell. We rode off into the rising sun, across the vast desert, onwards towards the distant Byzantine metropolis. |
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| Menhad | Sep 2 2007, 08:53 PM Post #5 |
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ET2(IDW)
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OOC: I haven't said welcome yet, so welcome. Your work here is great, you will make a great RP if you decide to stay. |
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| Deleted User | Sep 2 2007, 11:49 PM Post #6 |
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OOC: Thanks for your welcome. I definitely plan on sticking around. :) If you would like to pick up the Omayyad or Sassanids, please feel free. I am opening the story to RP with others after this post. _____________________________________________________ It took just over a week of hard riding to reach Constantinople. We had avoided Byzantine patrols (which was not difficult as practically the whole army had either gone south to fight at Damscus, or north to quell the Serbian revolts) and towns where possible, only stopping twice at small villages where there would be no soldiers to restock on supplies. They hadn't even reached the walls of Constantinople when they encountered a patrol, however, and were nearly killed. While they did not sport any Sassanid markings, their appearance was enough for the patrol to consider them enemies. They charged and hurled their javelins at us, striking one of my companions, but missing myself and the other. I raised my arms and screamed out in what little Greek I knew, "Surrender! Surrender!" We both stopped our horses and got off, raising our hands in a non-threatening gesture. We were siezed and hauled off towards Constantinople. Once inside the walls they took us to their general who ordered us thrown in jail immediately. Before we were dragged out I begged him to hear my plea as an ambassador. "Ambassador or not, you are a Sassanid. Your pleas fall on death ears," he spok dissmissively, turning to leave. "I am not Sassanid, my lord. I am Prince Nindintu-Bel of Akkadia, and I come to beseech the good wisdom of your Emperor." "Akkadia?" he scoffed, "I've never heard of any such place." "It is an ancient city, cradled in the Fertile Crescent. I have declared my independency from Yazdegerd III, and come as a neutral ambassador." This gave the general pause - I could nearly see the thoughts going through his mind; an enemy of Yazdegerd in the heart of his Empire... it could prove invaluable! "Alright, you will see the Emperor, if he will entertain you." And so I was brought before Emperor Constantine III. I presented my case, much as I had to Yazdegerd, and was met with the same rage and threats against my life. Roman vanity ran strong with Byzantines, and I struggled much harder to convince him that he needed help against the Omayyad, and I am certain that I only live to tell this story today by a sheer stroke of fortune. Surely Mazda was watching over me that day as the doors to the throne room burst open, and a dishevelled young man panted heavily. "My Lord... we... need more... troops..." he took a deep breath, "Damascus is... overrun... Arabs everywhere... the troops are falling back..." Constantine's face screwed up into a ball, he was off-guard and I pressed the attack, "My Lord, sending more troops means diverting your forces from the north. I know your history well, and I know that when the Serbs rattle their chains they are fierce. You know this well too, and diverting them could leave you with a civil war. Instead allow Sassanisa's troops to do their fighting! Work together, allow me and my troops to act as mediator and you will see your victory!" "And what of Damascus? After the Omayyad are defeated, who will retain the city?" It was my turn to be caught off guard, but I quickly recovered and said the only thing I could say, "It is rightfully Byzantine, and it shall be yours my lord." I knew I could make no such promise. I knew that as soon as Yazdegerd heard of this he would want me dead, but what choice did I have? If I said anything else Constantine would have killed me. I was faced with death and failure no matter which way I turned... my only choice was to lie to both and redirect their gaze so that I might hide the truth long enough for me to survive and achieve my ends. I was playing with fire - the worst kind of fire: monarchical fire. No fire burnt so brightly nor fiercely. But I could not worry about that now; Constantine was sending the boy that had come bursting in along with me. I needed to return to Yazdegerd, then to Damascus with my troops. An ambassador from Byzantium, this boy, and one I would obtain from Yazdegerd would then inform the armies of this newfound alliance. No matter how fleeting it may be, it would do for now. |
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| Ignatius | Sep 4 2007, 06:39 PM Post #7 |
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2nd Lieutenant
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God.... How I hate those desert filth... We, the Byzantines, are the children of civilization itself; having descended from the noble coupling of the best of both Roman and Greek cultures. Plato. Alexander. Augustus. Constantine I. These were my ancestors. Dear God in heaven, it's been nearly two centuries since the heart-wrenching fall of our Western bretheren to the swords of the unwashed barbarians from the north, yet even now, the light of Constantinople shines just as brightly as ever. We, the Byzantines, have succeeded in where Rome failed; the Huns, Northmen, and Serbs have all failed to topple the sacred light of 'true' Christianity, ultimately crushed under the horses of our Cataphracts in complete military defeat. Our cities are the envy of the entire world, our military is unmatched, and there is no kingdom anywhere else in this god-forsaken planet which can out-weigh the amount of gold in the Imperial Coffers. Riches. Power. Prosperity. Despite our great power, there are those who would wish to threaten God's Heaven on Earth. The Northern barbarian hordes, filthy creatures bereft of trousers and worshipping unspeakable gods of stone, rock, and blood. For the moment, Byzantium's forces can deal well enough with those vermin on our northern border. God... The Sassanid ass-weasels in the east. Disgusting rag-wearing barbarians who have hindered my predecessors' attempts at civilizing Asia for countless years. For centuries, both our ancestors have been waging a war of attrition over the sun-parched plains of Anatolia and Turkey, with neither side giving way to the other. Now, however, I can sense that Sassania's doom is nigh.. A storm to the Southeast stirs.. The Omayyad Horde, the fiery desert zealots from Arabia, dare threaten the seat of Orthodoxy with their demonic practices? I think not! Byzantium will surely stand firm in the face of another Barbarian wave... and remain triumphant.. Right? Methinks this so-called Akkadian gives a strong point in temporarily ceasing the unfruitful war between Sassania and Byzantium, if only for a moment. With the Omayyads defeated, a Byzantine ally serving as a buffer state between the slowly rotting Sassanid Kingdom and Holy Byzantium would suit the Eastern Roman Empire very well. "Isaac!" I roared, bellowing for the same boy who had given me the fateful news of Damascus, "Isaac, you little arse-weasel, get your filthy face in my sight at once!" Within seconds, Isaac Demiedies, a young attendant to one of my finest Byzantine Generals (who was, at the moment, occupied with the retreat of the Eastern Roman Forces from Damascus) sprinted to the scene, again panting heavily at the floor just in front of my grand throne. "Y-yes, your highness?" panted the young boy of seventeen years of age, "I am.. at... your bidding." "Isaac Demiedies, son of the blacksmith Keidies," I muttered derisively, fighting the urge to wallop the young boy atop the head with my heavy scepter, "I hereby appoint you with the business of overseeing the Eunuch Paulus Themistiocles to negotiate a truce with the Sassanid butt-raiders in the East." Lifting myself slowly from the seat of my throne, I coldly thrust a small ring towards the hand of the pathetic little wretch, tapping his head with the hard knob of my scepter simultaneously. "You will take a force of eighty of my personal Varangian Guard to old Yazdegerd," I spoke, privately cursing the heavens for this disgustingly ironic twist of fate, "and protect the Eunuch through his travels." "Return, and perhaps you will be rewarded..." |
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| Deleted User | Sep 11 2007, 06:31 AM Post #8 |
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OOC: Real life has me tied up, but I'll be back to continue soon, I promise! |
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| Deleted User | Sep 13 2007, 08:38 AM Post #9 |
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It took some time to return to Sassanisa, retrieve the troops from the camp at Akkad and then reach Damscus. By the time we had arrived, the Omayyad had just manage to dislodge the Byzantine remnants, and the Sassanid army was just preparing for another assault upon its walls. Convincing the generals from either side was difficult, even with the approval of King and Emperor alike. The Byzantine boy spent long hours arguing with the general in Greek, apparently trying to convince him that he was not fabricating a story, and at several points it seemed as if the general were about to draw his sword and cut the boy down where he stood. Eventually the general shot a sharp glance at me, then gave up, barked a few short sentences at the boy and withdrew. The boy switched to a stuttering Persian and explained that the general agreed not to fight the Sassanid troops. He would attack the walls from the opposite direction, but only after the Sassanids had begun their assault. I asked the boy to tell the general the attack would start at first light, then travelled to the Sassanid camp. I did not sleep well that night, my dreams were filled with visions of defeat, and of the fragile alliance shattering before the Omayyad defeated... and of my execution by Yazdegerd when my plans collapsed. Yet soon enough it was morning, and there was no time to fret; it was still dark when the horns sounded and the camp came alive. The army had taken significant casualties, but several regiments had just arrived, only a few hours before I had arrived the day before, that had been marching from the provinces of the Empire further east. The fresh regiments were eager for a fight, and those that had survived the first battle were rejuvinated by their arrival. The troops were drawn into position, the catapults heaved out, and a deathly silence fell upon the army. I stood with my regiment in the centre of the forces, surrounded by other regiments. Last night I had agreed on my strategy with the Sassanid general; once the walls were breached, I would take my regiment and fight through to the other side to open the gates for the Byzantines, then marching at the head of their army, we would crush the Omayyad between us. Just as the first trickles of sunlight began to pierce the darkness, a loud horn sounded, and was quickly followed by the sound of ropes snapping, then a chorus of whip-crack sounds echoed across the empty morning as the catapults launched their payloads towards Damascus. The boulders made loud sounds as they travelled through the air, before crashing into the walls with a mighty boom. Some parts of the wall had already been weakened by the initial Omayaad assault, and only partial repairs had been made to them over the week the Omayaad had occupied the city; most of that week was spent keeping out Byzantine and Sassanid reinforcements, and hunting out pockets of resistance from within. Those weakened areas in the wall quickly began to shake and crumble, and it only took three rounds of catapult fire before there was a sizable hole in the walls. The army began moving forward methodically as the catapults continued to attempt to widen the hole. Several more had opened before the army reached the wall and the catapults stopped, but we had been suffering counterfire from Omayaad ballistas, then as we drew nearer a deadly and continuous hail of arrows came from the walls. Looking back there were many Sassanid corpses littering the desert, and my compatriots and I nearly joined them when a ballista shot whistled past, devestating the lines in front of us. But the line held, and soon the army was pouring in through the holes in the wall. Arabic Ghazi warriors, fanatics who dedicated their life to combat and Jihad, met the Sassanids at these breaches and fought fiercely. Even though outnumbered severely, their skill in combat was unsurpassed, and their fierce fanaticism allowed them to fight with fervour, even when grievously wounded. They were experts in their craft, deadly, and they stayed the advance for a long time. They were unprepared, however, not expecting an assault so soon after they had defeated the Sassanid and Byzantine armies. Soon enough men had scaled the walls and were slaughtering the archers above. Without the covering hail of arrows, the Ghazi could no longer hold off the crush of Sassanid warriors, and they began retreating from the walls to take up positions amongst the city. The Ghazi were far from defeated; they were well suited to urban warfare and would dig their heels in hard, making it very difficult to expel them. They were not afraid to die, and most times the only way to defeat them was to kill them to the man. Liberated from the initial crush, my men and I formed a tight square and began advancing towards the opposite side of Damascus. I could see that there were only around three quarters of my men left from the battle, but none seemed to have lost heart. As we made our way through the winding streets, we were suddenly met with an hail of arrows from the surrounding buildings. Several of my men dropped, and there was nowhere to take cover. An idea came to me, a flashback to one of the previous battles from Damascus. My men and I had fought against the Byzantines many times, and witnessed the effectiveness of their "turtle shell" formation, linking shields and advancing as an impenetrable fortress of men, nearly impervious to arrow fire, a remnant from the days of the true Roman Empire. Our shields were not designed to fit so neatly, and our light armour did not stop arrows nearly as well as Roman armour, but it was worth a try. I yelled at my men to mimic the Roman formation, and after a few seconds of confusion, they did so. There were gaps in our fortress, but we advanced along under the hail of arrows. A few men fell as the arrows tock-tock-tocked into the shields of others, but the men simply drew closer together plugging the gaps. Eventually we got far enough away from the archers and the hail ended. Eventually we reached the other wall, meeting no more resistance apart from a brief skirmish with a regiment of peasant conscripts that had fallen quickly and scattered into the backstreets without killing even one of my hardened veterans. We quickly dispatched the light guard that had been left at this gate, then began opening it. Light flooded in through the gap and I squinted hard, trying to make our what was beyond it. All I could do was pray to Mazda that the Byzantine army would stand there when I could see past the glare... for if they had abandoned us, then we were surely doomed. Sure enough, we had caught the Arabs off guard, and might even retake the city... but once they regathered themselves and brought reinforcements, we would taste bitter defeat again. Without the alliance, this was all for nought... the glare died down as the doors creaked open, and there beyond it I saw... |
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| Ignatius | Sep 19 2007, 07:56 PM Post #10 |
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2nd Lieutenant
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OOC - Will update ASAP. School, sports, and life are making things very difficult for me at the moment. |
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11:50 AM Jul 13