In Fine, Solum Est Tibi (A Quest in Rome, During The Fall of the Republic)

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A Legionary Legacy
  • Sidestory
    • A Legionary Legacy

    Severianus gazed out at the sea, the Pontic coast visible in the distance. Called the Pontus Euxinus in the tongue of the Greeks, it was a language Severianus could only speak brokenly. It was also the tongue his father Severus grew up speaking in the streets of Massilia. Severianus' father had come a long way from a street rat that would beg, borrow and steal in the wealthiest port in Gallia.

    "What thoughts weigh so heavy on you like Jove's stormclouds, my son?"

    "Father! It's this sea voyage. Not much we can do aboard a ship, and every night when we make landfall, I worry that Mithridates's army will pounce upon us in our sleep."

    "Son, here's a bit of advice I learned from my campaigns with the legions. Do everything in your power to prepare for what you can. But for every worry that you, personally, can't prepare for, put it out of your mind. Leave the problems of ships and sailing to the captains and sailors, and leave problems of camp security to myself and the other centurions. I hate being on ships, because I know next to nothing about working them, and my own skills are largely useless on a ship. But should we march to war, then for us it is: "Over the seas and far away, Rome commands and the legions obey." Do you understand?"

    "Yes, sir. We will do whatever is commanded of us, regardless of our personal feelings or distaste."

    "Good, good. At sea, soldiers are at the mercy of Neptune, Mercury and Fortuna, and only our prayers to them and the faith in the skill of the sailors will see us to our destination. Once we arrive, then we may exercise our skills; place our hand on Fortuna's wheel. Let me tell you, son, this trip is much less nerve wracking compared to my first voyage by sea."

    "How so father? Haven't you been posted to the far corners of the overseas provinces?"

    "Aye, but that was years after my first trip. It was hrrm, twenty-three years ago now. I was a velite of the Gallic legions, and we had just suffered a crushing blow at the hands of the ferocious Cimbri and their vassals at Burdigala. The remnants of the army tricked back to Massilia, and several towns rose in revolt at the defeat. I saw none of that, for by some whimsy of Neptune, Mercury and Fortuna, I ended up on a ship that took me to Africa with the newly raised legions under Marius. So take heart, lad, that you're where you're supposed to be, and not headed to some Numidian hellhole."

    "A hellhole you survived, father."

    "That I did. But a great many others did not. If it wasn't Numidian raiders on horseback, it was the heat, disease, or poor food and bad water that did them in. A lot of the lessons learned in Africa against Jugurtha and in Gaul against the Cimbri went into Marius' reform of the legions two decades ago. Consider this: when I was your age, I was a mere velite, protected by fur and leather. When I left Numidia, I was a hastatus, armed and armored with what I could scavenge from the dead. Today, you are a professional legionary, provided armor and weapons by Rome, rather than some family heirloom of questionable quality and what drill could be fit between planting and harvest.

    "And while I know the men love to complain about setting up the castra at the end of the day's march, trust me, it's well worth the effort. Before the Battle of Aquae Sextiae, we had set up a castra near the Rhone. The vast horde of Teutones, stretching far as the eye could see, tried to goad us into giving up the high ground and giving them a straight fight where they had the advantage. After that failed, they tried starving us out, then they attempted to storm the castra. They hurled wave after wave of warriors to break upon the fortifications. After three days of failure, they gave up for easier pickings." Raising his voice to be clearly heard to the eavesdropping legionaries, Severus shouts, "And that's why you always fortify your camp every night, you lazy bastards! So if you want more than a snowball's chance in Vulcan's forge in case you run into a numberless horde of barbarians, you FORTIFY THE DAMNED CAMP! So I don't want to hear any more bitching and moaning, you fresh-faced, wet-behind-the-ears knuckle draggers! You lads don't know how good you've got it! Back in the day- "

    "By the gods, he's going to go on all day!"

    "Gods have mercy, for the centurions have none!"

    "He's not stuck on the boat with us, we're stuck with him!"

    @Magoose Another Severianus omake! According to the map below, the main current in the Black Sea flows counterclockwise, so in sailing to Crimea, the Romans must sail along the north coast of Anatolia, the Kingdom of Pontus. Ships of this era had to stay within sight of land, and would typically make landfall at night. Murena would be relying on the fog of war and the slow speed of communication to protect the fleet every night. It's unlikely Mithridates would have a mustered army a few hours march from whatever random cove the Roman fleet decides to come ashore at every night, and even if a scout spots them, he would have to ride back to gather reinforcements; likely nothing large enough to challenge a single legion, even for a night raid would be available. And the Romans could "forage" by threatening to pillage a small fishing village if they don't hand over provisions.

    The defeat Severus mentions before his first boat trip is the Battle of Burdigala (modern Bordeaux), where the Gallic Legions were ambushed on their way to attack the city. A quarter of the Roman army was lost that day (10k of 40k), and both its legates killed. The rest of the army was spared destruction by agreeing to surrender most of their supplies and retreating under the yoke.

    Marius, the senior consul of 107 BC, led an army to fight Jugurtha in Numidia, returning in triumph in 104 (Jugurtha was betrayed by his father-in-law, the king of Mauritania, to Sulla in 105. Marius claimed credit for the capture). The Gallic Legions were almost completely destroyed by the Cimbri in October of 105 at Arausio due to egoistic idiocy, rivalry and classism. This left Italy open to invasion and panic ensued. Then Marius returns with one of Rome's notorious enemies in chains. As a conquering war hero, he is (illegally and unconstitutionally) reelected consul in 104 (legally, one must wait 10 years after the end of his consulship before he can be eligible again), kickstarting the Marian Reforms. The events Severus described did happen a couple of weeks before the Battle of Aquae Sextiae, and the Teutones did assault the castra for three days, then decided to bypass the army and loot northern Italy. Marius shadowed them, got drawn into a skirmish that escalated into a battle (Marius won, but at the cost of not having a fortified camp), then lured the Teutones into a battle on ground of his choosing (It's over, Anakin Teutobod, I have the high ground!), tricking enemy and ally alike to win an overwhelming victory (100:1 K: D ratio on the low end, 200:1 on the high end). I'll probably do an omake series where Severus tells his war stories, similar to the Storytime with Papa Severin omakes in La Chanson.

    And we have a name for our Severin ancestor, the founder who passed down the soldiering tradition through the Severin line through the generations! He's also doing obnoxious NCO stuff with a literal captive audience.
     
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  • Sidestory
    • Alexander Sturnn said:
    I now imagine Severin showing off his Family-Records to Napoleon, Therese and the other Marshals and they all need a freakin' drink by the end of it because, dear God, apparently this Family was always nuts!
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    As it turns out, the Severin Clan are the most well-documented, unbroken geological line in this world's human history, and they somehow keep on trucking despite wars, famine, plagues, and other apocalyptic disasters. And they soon become wanted to be a part of very important events, just because they are the forest Gump of humanity.

    Fuck it, that is now canon considering the insane bullshit. and their continued appearances in my quest.:V
     
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    Magoose said:
    As it turns out, the Severin Clan are the most well-documented, unbroken geological line in this world's human history, and they somehow keep on trucking despite wars, famine, plagues, and other apocalyptic disasters. And they soon become wanted to be a part of very important events, just because they are the forest Gump of humanity.

    Fuck it, that is now canon considering the insane bullshit. and their continued appearances in my quest.:V
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    Okay, at this rate we should expect all of Mag's Quests to include one Severin family member (yes even in Quests that are not on Earth).

    Man remember when we came up with Servant versions of Sev and Therese in Song of Victory? Imagine if we had to come up Servant forms of his ancestors. And they got summoned to Chaldea.
     
    Magoose said:
    As it turns out, the Severin Clan are the most well-documented, unbroken geological line in this world's human history, and they somehow keep on trucking despite wars, famine, plagues, and other apocalyptic disasters. And they soon become wanted to be a part of very important events, just because they are the forest Gump of humanity.

    Fuck it, that is now canon considering the insane bullshit. and their continued appearances in my quest.:V
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    Just Imagine Davout's family, he probably has some damn Egyptian ancestor that has been made into a god or something, Probably named as a god of war or a god of strategy :V
     
    Blazblade said:
    Okay, at this rate we should expect all of Mag's Quests to include one Severin family member (yes even in Quests that are not on Earth).

    Man remember when we came up with Servant versions of Sev and Therese in Song of Victory? Imagine if we had to come up Servant forms of his ancestors. And they got summoned to Chaldea.
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    No.

    I feel like that would be far to crazy, even for me.
    BuKoG said:
    Just Imagine Davout's family, he probably has some damn Egyptian ancestor that has been made into a god or something, Probably named as a god of war or a god of strategy :V
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    Davout is from France I thought?

    Unless your telling me they migrated due to romes slave trade?
     
    Cyber just said something amazing, so amazing that I must share.

    The only true heroes in this story and campaign are the centurions. Everyone else is window dressing.
     
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    The final 12 hours are upon us in the vote: make your plans or otherwise, make your peace.

    Shill if you must, because once it is called, the rolls will be done.
     
    Stories of the Undertaker: The Cycle of Zagreus (III)
  • Sidestory
    • Orion Ultor said:
    "So it came as a surprise when he was reborn for a third time, yet again with the arms of Despoina, as the god Zagreus."
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    Stories of the Undertaker: The Cycle of Zagreus (III)

    It was a silent day, where not even the wind deigned take breath, when she made way to the family mausoleum basket in hand, a red shawl with yellow piping wrapped around her small shoulders.

    Each step seemed a cruelty, each breath a taunt, as she shuffled the worn path alone, this the first year in ages that her father was absent, entrusting her to make the walk on her own; tears dared creep into the corners of her eyes as she came closer and closer, her will faltering even as her duty drove her each step. The distant sound of 'snicker-snack' came from off the path (likely the gardener attending to the surrounding stones), the scent of cut grass and grapes strong in the air as she stepped into the hall of the honored dead. Gently, she began the rites of preparation, taking off her sandals and washing her feet in water and anointing them lightly in oil [as to not to offend the ancestors in their rest].

    Taking a wet cloth, she began the arduous process of cleansing their stones and masks, reading aloud their name and reciting their deeds from memory; this continued long into the noon day sun, the cleansing of these hallowed halls, never once allowing her tears to fall, even during the rare moments as she chokes reciting the deeds of her ancestors. It's only as she ends with the most recent name, added some three years past that she begins to utterly lose her bearing and only her sense of duty prevents her from breaking...that is, until she makes no less than seven paces from the mausoleum and falls down to the side of path, and her sobs tear their way from her breast. As she is without a retinue, left at the bottom of the steps, she remains there in tears for a length of time unmeasurable, none to see her tears fall.

    This ends with a gentle hand on her shoulder, the scent of grapes, grass and decay overpowering all else.

    "My lady," comes their voice, a gentle bass, "this is a terrible day to be caught alone in the rain, come quickly we must get you dry."

    It takes her a moment to get the stranger's meaning, startled by their sudden presence, the sky crisp and naught a cloud in sight.

    "Thank you kindly," she says, pulling her shawl close, as the man gently leads her to the nearby homestead, "I seemed to have misplaced my coverings."

    "It is of no trouble," he says as he brings her inside the humble abode at the edge of the cemetery, his garb placing him as their gardener, a man she'd rarely seen, "it wouldn't due to catch a cold in this weather."

    Seating her with a nearby stool, he graciously turns his back to her as she hastily wipes her tears away, preparing some sort of heated beverage.

    "Here," he says to her, handing her a cup of hot stock, "this should aid you to recover some from this terrible weather."

    She takes it gratefully, sipping at it carefully; strange, she could not place the manner of beast or fowl.

    For a time he works silently about the abode, leaving her grateful as she recovers some measure of bearing. Eventually, she realizes her rudeness asks of him his name.

    "My lady, in this life I am called Nektarios," the man says, pulling a hand through his curly beard, appearing strangely familial in doing so, pulling from it twigs and what appear to be berries, "I am but a simple man tending the best he can for the living."

    "Strange then that you work with the dead," she says without thought, freezing as the man coughs out a laugh, his amethyst eyes full of mirth.

    "Ah, but the dead care not for these stones," Niktarios says, sitting down across from her, "only for the living whom hold them in memory, where they shall dwell forever. In that manner, do you care for a tale?"

    She nods, not trusting herself to speak, ears still burning with fading horror.

    "The birth of Dionysus Zagreus, called Bacchus Liber by the Romans, is said to have been a surprise to Lady Despoina, an utterly virgin birth. Attended to by the Ladies Artemis and Nyx, she was startled and amazed by the birth of her youngest child, naming him Zagreus in honor of her sister...and when the time came to show him to her family, she was horrified by his sudden death as she entered the mortal realm. Unable to continue her duties as stewardess of the Dead and tender of the Fields of Asphodel, she fled to the Overworld and hid from her family, one and all, following a fairly crass remark by Lord Zeus of her state. Her disappearance, such as it was, brought about such great sorrow and wrath from her mother Demeter, who refused to tend to the living until the matter had been solved and her daughter returned...and for a great many years, it would not be so.

    No matter how the Olympians search, how studiously or arduously, they could not find the goddess.

    Then came the day that Hephaestus met with a young man, wreathed in shadow, stepped forth into his domain and asked for his aid in creating a mighty working, a Helm like no other. Hephaestus, reluctant to create the work, asked of a simple favor...and when the young man pulled back his cloak, his eyes piercing the very center of his being, the god began toiling away near endlessly and without pause to create the Helm, calling upon his sister Athena to aid him weaving the young man's cloak of shadow into the Helm. When finally given the Helm, that which would allow him to walk in the realm of mortals, the young man smiled and thanked his brother, eyes full of mirth as he stepped once more into shadow, and Stepped into a forgotten glade.

    It was there that the thricebourne god Dionysus Zagreus, now the Dread Lord of all Hades, met with his lover, mother and wife, and promised that no matter how difficult the task or how long he must wait, he would find his way to her. It was then he took his Helm, carefully extricating it from the horns that marked his station, and told her, even as he fell asunder in the realm of mortals and giving her one last kiss, that he would be waiting for her in their home.

    It was this way that Spring returned, when the Lady Persephone returned and begged her mother for forgiveness; her mother merely kissed her cheek and held her close, telling her there was nothing to forgive, and smiled as life returned to the hills and valleys, glad to her daughter with her close at hand. When she returned to the Underworld, she kissed her husband passionately once and forever more, returning to him his Helm, and even now that they are seated as Rulers below."

    "You are saying then," she began a moment after he fell silent, "that even in their passing, we must hold them in memory and work in their name."

    He smiles gently, "If that is the lesson you see fit to take from this, then yes, Lyksos."

    She stayed for a time after, continuing to enjoy their time together, before taking her leave to the villa.

    It wouldn't be until her return a week later, hoping to enjoy his company once more, that she realized there had never been a gardener there, finding the abode abandoned and overgrown with vines, their fruit beautiful and ripe, a gentle laugh full of mirth on the wind.
     
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  • Sidestory
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  • Voting
    • Scheduled vote count started by Magoose on Apr 25, 2022 at 12:42 AM, finished with 86 posts and 17 votes.
    • [X] Journey to the Lands of Neptune Thagimasádas
      [X]Plan What Is Going On Here?
      -[X]The Primus Centurion: The most senior Centurion does not like you all that much. That much you could account to being a woman, and so young. Perhaps, he may see that change. But right now, you would need to talk to him.
      -[X]Caesar's Conundrum: Why was Caesar here? That was a question that was on your mind since he Arrived.
      - [X] The Hope for Messages: Uncle Ion sent a message? What is it about, what is it for? And how did this letter find the Fleet?
      [x] Matrem Maris
      -[x]A Feeling of Home: You never knew of your mother's homeland. Pip knows it, so why has he not spoken of it? Speak Pip!
      - [X] The Hope for Messages: Uncle Ion sent a message? What is it about, what is it for? And how did this letter find the Fleet?
      -[x]The Sail Calls: You have never been one to sail, but you want to take the rudder, the sail, and understand, what it means to sail.
      [X] Family Matters
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