Lynching, proscriptions, breaking every law and precedent and principle, struggling for power and letting ambition ruin the Republic...I do not think either Marians or Sullans live up to respective ideals of Populares or Optimates, really.
I consider both unsympathetic, I just sympathize more with ideals of Populares.
Actually, shit, it is, like you said, water under the bridge, but I can't help but nitpick anyway - Sertorius has offered us nothing of the sort. Leaving aside that he was in control there, he was not going to make Spain his independent kingdom anyway, and thus it couldn't be ours. However would the war go, Sertorius would then try to use Spain as power base to return to Rome, whether by politics or with the legions behind his back. He wasn't a separatist.
Actually, shit, it is, like you said, water under the bridge, but I can't help but nitpick anyway - Sertorius has offered us nothing of the sort. Leaving aside that he was in control there, he was not going to make Spain his independent kingdom anyway, and thus it couldn't be ours. However would the war go, Sertorius would then try to use Spain as power base to return to Rome, whether by politics or with the legions behind his back. He wasn't a separatist.
About him being in control - we would be more valuable to him than we are to the Sullans or Marians who are still in Rome.
On his return - true. But carving out your own power base on periphery is different from trying to survive in Rome itself.
In the end I still voted for staying, purely because of debt to Scaevola. Which will hopefully soon be paid - at least enough that we can do our own thing or switch sides to other faction without being too much of a bastard for it.
He will still be angry, but it is an anger of losing a useful pawn - us - and thus is inevitable.
About him being in control - we would be more valuable to him than we are to the Sullans or Marians who are still in Rome.
On his return - true. But carving out your own power base on periphery is different from trying to survive in Rome itself.
It still wasn't an offer to go native and build an independent kingdom, as that was not Sertorius goal there in the first place, was it? Therefore, my nitpicking is correct.
In the end I still voted for staying, purely because of debt to Scaevola. Which will hopefully soon be paid - at least enough that we can do our own thing or switch sides to other faction without being too much of a bastard for it.
He will still be angry, but it is an anger of losing a useful pawn - us - and thus is inevitable.
Ah, damn, it still hurts me that you would misinterpret and debase our relationship with Scaevola so, but whatever. You have your own thoughts on that, I'll have mine.
In the end I still voted for staying, purely because of debt to Scaevola. Which will hopefully soon be paid - at least enough that we can do our own thing or switch sides to other faction without being too much of a bastard for it.
He will still be angry, but it is an anger of losing a useful pawn - us - and thus is inevitable.
Well, no.
Feudal obligations were more codified than this, I believe.
Patronage seems to be the bonds of mutual usefulness and gratitude, way way less binding than inheritable and land-bound and (later?) codified bonds of feudal obligation.
There is a similarity - both are master-and-subservient bonds of mutual usefulness - but it's rather superficial, and I consider patronage to be closer to regular nepotism of any powerful organization or society.
Of course, politics run on a sort of reputation "economy", so we should take care to keep face and so on. But I consider it to be more transactional and fluid in nature than theoretically lifelong (or multigenerational really) feudal bonds. Not quite as mercenary and fluid as pork-barrels and earmarking and favour trading, but way closer to that than feudal hierarchy.
Well, no.
Feudal obligations were more codified than this, I believe.
Patronage seems to be the bonds of mutual usefulness and gratitude, way way less binding than inheritable and land-bound and (later?) codified bonds of feudal obligation.
No, it's not written down in law. It is however heavily socially enforced. We have an obligation to Scaevola same way he has to us. This also means that there isn't a point where we somehow repay him for a favour and then are just free to go.
Of course, like with other social norms even the patronage gets a bit watered down as time goes on and we near the end of the republic, but that doesn't matter to the current discussion.
And I did not say that patronage is like a feudal contract, I said that like the feudal contract it's a two way street.
Of course, politics run on a sort of reputation "economy", so we should take care to keep face and so on. But I consider it to be more transactional and fluid in nature than theoretically lifelong (or multigenerational really) feudal bonds. Not quite as mercenary and fluid as pork-barrels and earmarking and favour trading, but way closer to that than feudal hierarchy.
Okay, no, that's just straight up wrong. In Roman society, patron-client relationship is entirely less mercantile and entirely more familial. I didn't joke or hyperbolize when I said that the patron is treated by client as a second father, and the client is therefore patron's son. Hell, the word "patron" is in Latin "patronus", which comes from "pater" - father. Of course, much like everything else, that tradition is fraying during the Late Republic, but it is still far from being as transactional and mercenary as you describe, especially when our patron is perhaps the most traditional man in Rome.
Actually, @Telamon, can you do a Roman Histories thing on patron-client relationship? It is very important in Roman society, but doesn't exactly exist in modern one, so I have a feeling it'll be brought up and misunderstood a lot during the course of the quest. It is entirely possible I misunderstand it myself, even, as I am not exactly a certified expert on the history of Ancient Rome.
[X] Plan Scope Out The Territory
-[X] The Catilinarians (-4 Talents) -[X] Theo
-[X] Gather Support
-[X] Correspondence
--[X] Atticus
-[X] Si Vis Pacem -[X] The Consul
-[X] Fortune's Favor
February 5th, 84 BC
670 Years After The Founding Of Rome
The Year of Asiaticus and Cinna.
The Mithridatic War (88 BC - Ongoing)
Your second campaign, you were immediately reassigned along with the VI legion under the consul Scipio Asiaticus to reinforce the armies of Marius, who had experienced a crippling betrayal in his asiatic campaign against the Pontic King Mithridates.
Legion(s): LEGIO VI GRADIVIUS (Sixth Legion, Blessed By Mars) Position: Tribunus Laticlavus (Broad-Striped Tribune) Commanding Officer: Gaius Marius Commanding Officer Reputation (Scipio): 5/10 -- Scipio Asiaticus is a good speaker, true, but he is no soldier. He is the least of those who have borne his mighty name. Total Forces: 5,600 combined Roman legionnaires, equites, and auxilaries. Commanding Officer Reputation (Marius): 10/10 -- He is Marius. The Third Founder. The Hero of Rome. Nothing more need be said, for even his enemies would fill with pride to serve under him. Reputation With The Legion: 8/10 -- The legion loves you, and sees you as one of them. You are their brother, their champion, their tribune. They would die for you. Location: Asia Outcome: ???
The fourteen-day journey from the south of Italy to the interior of Asia is not an easy affair. Romans are no great lovers of the sea, and the two-week long voyage gives you more than some idea why. Most of the legion spends half of it emptying their bellies over the side, and you yourself are wracked with dizzying headaches for the entire trip. While the Romans suffer however, your companion, the young Greek Theo, prospers. The fresh sea air and warm sun of his home seas seems to have made him even cheerier, and you had not thought such a thing possible. Even the salt-grizzled sailors who man the boats cannot help but take a liking to his perpetual cheer and good manner, and he soon becomes something of a favorite among the men.
You, however, find it hard to get much done. It is only with Theo's slow coaching and insistent cheer that you eventually manage to find your way from your sweat-soaked bunk and stumble your way around the ship. Indeed, the Greek's help proves vital over the course of your long voyage; you had intended to gather support among the men, but your state makes the quick turns of phrase for which you are known nigh-impossible. Nonetheless, Theo persuades you to get up from your bed and walk abovedeck among your men, to make yourself seen even as sick as you are. Somehow, impossibly, it works. The men see you green-faced and ill, and it makes them happy to know that you suffer as they do, that you too detest the abominable rocking of the waves. You may not have given a rousing speech to rally their spirits, but they are closer to you now.
Nothing brings Romans together quite like misery.
When you are not retching your stomach over the sides of the ship or mocking Rufus for doing the same, you sit with Theo and pace through your Greek. It was never your favorite language, and you have forgotten much of your lessons over the years. Words slip from your mind and you mix up your tenses more than a few times -- but you have a very good teacher, one who will not stop smiling, and eventually you can string together a couple sentences without much trouble. You will never pass as a Plato, or even as a native speaker, but you can hold a conversation and not be laughed at.
1,190 Intelligence XP Gained! (2059/15000 XP to Rank 16)
800 Education XP Gained! (1,500/10,000 XP to Rank 11)
Bonus to Speaking Greek for 11 turns/as long as you remain in Greek-speaking areas.
You had intended to speak with the Consul Asiaticus during the voyage, but your roiling stomach says otherwise. The few times you can inquire about making it over to his boat, you are informed that he, too, is wracked by seasickness. Neptune mocks the sons of Mars.
Gain 500 Seafaring XP.
Gain skill: Seafaring
Seafaring: The roaring wave, the crashing sea, the rolling oar -- to know the sea is to know the wrath of Neptune.
(Theo) Making New Friends: +4 (Renowned Charisma) +2 (Greek Air) +5 (Gift of Hermes) = 25
Find Your Sea-Legs: 1d20 +2 (Health) -6 (Abysmal Seafaring): 6
Needed: 11 Result: Failure
Gather Support: 1d20+2 (Accomplished Charisma)+2(Theo)+6 (Reputation with the legion)+1(Gift of Minerva)-8 (Seasick) = 22
Needed: 9 Result: Resounding Success
Study Greek: 1d20+2 (Accomplished Education)+4(Renowned Intelligence)+1(Gift of Minerva) +5 (Theo) -8 (Seasick)= 23
Needed: 15 Result: Close Success
The Consul: 1d20+1 (Gift of Minerva)+2 (Charisma) +3 (Old Blood) +2 (Both Orator) -8 (Seasick) = 2
Needed: 18 Result: Resounding Failure
(Asiaticus) Convince Marius: 1d20+1(Proficient Charisma)+4(Renowned Diplomacy) = 7
vs (Marius) Disgrace Asiaticus: 1d20+4 (Renowned Charisma)+2(Accomplished Diplomacy)+5 (Third Founder) = 24
Resounding Victory for Marius
The ground wavers again under your feet, and your knees shake. You have been on solid ground for a blissful hour, but it is still difficult to readjust to your footing not swaying and shaking underneath you. Around you, opulence gleams from every corner, with towering marble statues and great golden frescoes towering everywhere your eyes fall. This is the palace of the old Kings of Bithynia, where Marius has quartered his legions for the winter. A massive complex with dozens of buildings and many great halls, it is the jewel of the city of Nicomedia, and was the greatest treasure of the Bithynian kings before their realm fell to Mithridates some four years ago. Now, Nicomedia has been reclaimed from the Pontic king and serves as the ad-hoc headquarters of the Marian war effort.
Almost immediately upon your landing in Nicomedia, Scipio Asiaticus gathered the legion's officers and made for the palace complex and Marius. The elder general's position has been badly hammered in the last few months — aside from the loss of an entire legion to base treachery, many men were slain when Mithridates' forces pushed Marius out of Pontus proper, leaving his legions undermanned and outmatched by both Sulla and Marius. The arrival of the VI legion into the city was met with cheers and whooping from the Romans in the city — and a stony silence from the Greeks. It would seem you are not well loved here.
Now you pace behind Asiaticus as he marches with purpose through the gilded halls of the old palace. The old man is no warrior, that much is certain — for one thing, his wiry arms look too thin to have ever held a sword, and his gangly frame betrays nothing of a soldier's posture. At his side strides his adopted son, the staff tribune Scipio Cassianus, a well-built man with a wave of coal-black hair and sharp green eyes. Born Opiter Cassius, a novus homo, he apparently so impressed the childless consul with his skill and dedication that the orator decided to bestow upon him his own name. You have not yet had a chance to break words with him, but the general consensus among the men is that he is everything his new father is not — strong, capable, and a born fighter.
Clustered around you are several other officers, the most prominent men of the legion, including Rufus, Mercator, and the cavalry commander Dolabella, who is a distant cousin to Sulla himself. Most are some shade of green or pale, still recovering from the journey, but they do their best to look presentable, and so do you.
After all, you are about to meet the most important man in Rome.
Your small group follows your Greek guide through a branching maze of gardens, hallways, and plazas to finally emerge into what was once the throne room of the kings of Bithynia. The great chair itself stands disused at the far end of a great amphitheater, which, you realize upon entering, has been converted into an improptu headquarters. Captains bark orders and legionnaires dart here and there, carrying messages and reports from across Asia.
At the center of it all stands an old man, at the least twenty years the elder of Asiaticus, himself forty years your own elder. His head is almost completely bald — his hair is a few greying strands that cling stubbornly to his head as if held there by sheer force of will. His face is a morass of wrinkles and crevices that look chiseled from stone, and his eyes are sunken pits in his head that glint like steel as he speaks. He wears a great carved breastplate of silver and a brilliant purple cloak, which should look foolish on a man as old as he. It does not. He should look out of place, but he does not. He looks at home, like war is second nature to him.
This, then, is Marius.
As you approach, he is dictating a message to a scribe. He moves and speaks with the air of a man who has breathed and lived command for longer than most Romans have been alive.
"Hail, Marius." Asiaticus says with a salute.
Almost instinctively, you and the other officers snap salutes as well. "Hail, Marius," the chorus rises from all your throats.
The old man turns, his purple cloak swirling. For a long moment, he regards your group, then nods stiffly.
"Ah, the new consul. You have arrived, then. I trust your journey was uneventful. You may garrison your legions within the left wing of the palace, and—"
"Legion." Asiaticus breaks in. "We have brought only the one."
Marius pauses. A vein in his leathery face twitches. "One? I sent for three."
Asiaticus bows his head with an orator's practiced air of apology. "I must regret to tell you that Sertorius has taken two with him to Hispania, and Cinna holds back all others for the defense of Rome should the traitor Sulla make feared return to Italy."
Marius' face twists. "Hispania? Italy? Merciful Jove, Cinna sends you with mouth packed full of shit, and you spit it back up on me like a sewer." Asiaticus is stunned for a moment, struck dumb by the words, and Marius forges on, his wrinkled face tight with contempt. "The Senate -- vultures and carrion feeders, all of you. You think I do not know your master Cinna has sent you here to spy on me? He sends one legion as vile insult, and sends a silver-tongued snake to heap my ears with lies. The dog despises the day I did not die, him and that backstabber Sertorius."
The consul finds his voice, though it is thin: "Marius, we could not--"
Marius is irate now, his eyes flashing like knives as he speaks. "And you. A consul? I weep to the very gods that Rome has come to this, that men such as you bear the dignity of such a name. You, who fled the siege of Aesernia in woman's dress? You, who licked Sulla's heel when he took Rome, and voted to send me into exile? You, twice craven and twice-damned traitor?"
Scipio reels almost as if struck, his hands moving as if grasping vainly at words to ply against this onslaught. "You cannot just...I am a consul of the Republic...who...who has been vested with a legion by the Roman people. You cannot--"
"And no legion of Rome will ever be led by so witless and self-serving a worm as thee. In my old age, I had foolishly hoped you would have discovered your spine or your balls on the journey, and I see you have only further lost both. You will command nothing while Marius lives."
Asiaticus gapes. "You cannot take my command! I hold imperium here, an-and no one can simply disregard that!"
Marius' answer is final.
"I can."
It ends all argument. The consul stands tall another moment before the most powerful man in Rome, and then deflates.
Marius turns and beckons to one of his officers. "See the esteemed consul to his rooms. He will be serving the war in a purely advisory capacity from now on. Ensured that he is cared for during his stay. We would not want Cinna's lapdog to go hungry, after all."
He turns back to your small group of officers, his face an impassioned mask. "And of you, who are his successors in the command?"
You and Scipio Cassianus both step forward. As broad-striped tribune and staff tribune, you are the highest-ranking, though not the most senior officers present.
A thick grey eyebrow rises. "And so young? What, were the babes of Rome not available? Am I to command my legions with children? Quickly, boys, name yourselves. You first.", he finishes with a gesture to Scipio Cassianus.
The young man seems quite confident for someone who has just seen his patron -- the source of his influence in Rome -- taken apart and disregarded in the space of minutes. "I am Scipio Cassianus, mighty Marius. I served under Rutilius in the Social War, and fought at the great Battle of Tolenus."
"Hm. A flatterer, but I am old, and myself given to flattery. Mayhap you will make better use of the name Scipio than the lackwit who gave it to you."
He nods to you next.
You speak clearly, though you are surprised your voice does not waver in front of the great man. "I am Quintus Cingulatus Atellus. I served under Sertorius in the Samnite War, and took Nola."
Marius snorts. "War. As if that little scrap could be called a war. But Sertorius, snake though he is, is a good commander. I know that because I taught him, and I know you wouldn't be standing here if he didn't see value in you. Dear gods boy, but you're young. How old are you?"
"Nineteen since the third," you answer truthfully.
Marius simply snorts with disbelief. "And you, Cassianus?"
"Twenty-one."
The old general sucks his teeth for a moment. "I have no more men to spare, so perhaps the two of you together might equal one full-grown man. I will command the Sixth Legion myself then, but you two shall act in my stead, keep it organized and fed, and lead it where I command. If there is error or failure, it falls on your heads."
With that, he turns back to his scribe, as if you were never there at all. Your audience with the Third Founder of Rome is over.
"And so he just put you in charge?"
"Apparently so," you say as you roll the dice again. "And the consul's son, Cassianus."
The dice bounce across the table as ten pairs of eyes watch. You are gathered around a small table in the officer's tents with Rufus, Pompolussa, Mercator, Carcellus, and even the aristocratic Dolabella. One of your fellow tribunes, Gabinius, and three centurions round out the group.
"Not much of a consul, is he?" quips Pompolussa.
"Asiaticus has always been a more...defensive orator", Rufus says as he scoops up the dice.
"That wasn't like no oration I've ever seen," snorts Carcellus. "Marius took him apart and shat on the pieces."
"An accurate summation of what I'm about to do to you," Rufus says as he tosses the dice.
Carcellus watches the dice roll to a stop, checks them, then eyes Rufus. "You sure bout that one, boy?"
Mercator claps you on the back. "Nineteen years old, and commander of an entire legion."
"Marius is in charge," you interject. "I just...take care of it for him."
"You'll be the one leading the Sixth on the battlefield, where it counts," retorts Gabinius, a lean man with a mop of brown hair and a sharp nose. "Marius has two others to deal with." He takes a deep swig from the amphora, then passes it to you. You drink deeply, the rich Greek wine pouring down your throat, then pass it in turn to Mercator.
"Don't think Marius was wrong. You do look like a babe out the cradle." Pompolussa jibes, his wrinkled face stretching into a grin. "All ruddy-nosed and pink-cheeked."
"Oh shut up, you old prune. Oh, that reminds me, Atellus -- do we have to call you legatus now?" Rufus wonders aloud. "Is everyone going to have to salute you all the time?"
"Not everyone, Rufus. Just you." you quip.
Mercator rolls a bad pair of dice, and curses loudly. Pompolussa says something vile in only the way that an old soldier says something vile, and passes a few coins to Rufus, who beams insufferably. You take another swig of the wine. Tomorrow, you have a legion to command. Tomorrow, you have a war to win.
But tonight...you're going to lose at dice.
VOTING
The Consul's Heir
With Marius having stripped Asiaticus of his legion and placed its' two senior tribunes in charge, you are now co-commander of Mars' Sixth Legion, alongside Scipio Cassianus, a Roman of no small skill. The men have already taken a deep liking to him, and his easygoing manner and confidence means that he will not be easily dislodged. You're not quite certain how Marius could tell on sight that it would work out this way, but he did and could -- Cassianus is here to stay. You could make terms with your new comrade, attempt to get to know him, or try to weaken his position. Pick one
[] Make Terms: You sit down with your new compatriot and hash out the details of your new positions -- who will do what, where, and when, and who will be command of what and where. [] Overshadow: You are more loved by the men and more senior in the legion. You attempt to dominate the position, becoming the primary tribune of the legion. Cassianus himself will not sit idly and be eclipsed, however. [] Connect: You make an attempt to connect with him. Cassianus' father was a farmer and his mother a tavern maid -- you come from different worlds, yet if you can form a friendship, or at least an understanding of sorts, it will make both your lives easier in the long run. [] Undermine: This legion is yours. You will not let another man lead it. You work to undermine his authority and rob his words of weight. Marius may have given him position, but he will not command your men.
Master of the Cohorts
In a single moment, you have gone from being merely the chief of the tribunes to effective co-commander of the entire Sixth Legion. It is a position born of necessity, not one earned, and yet you still feel pride in your chest at the thought. As the new master of the cohorts, you have many duties and expectations on top of your regular duties as tribune -- a position from which you have not been dismissed, and must still operate in. Whatever actions you do not get to, Cassianus may. Pick three
[] Training: Your men are well-trained enough, but the Samnite campaign did not offer many opportunities for the sort of combat they will soon be facing. It may be chilly, but you drill them in the fields outside Nicomedia. [] Promote Centurions: A few centurions and lower-ranking officers left the legion in Rome, their service having ended. Several soldiers who served with distinction during the Samnite campaign may well stand to replace them. Men you raise up may be loyal to you in the future. [] A Law Beyond The Sword: The men often have simple issues, complaints, or grievances which they wish to address. As broad-striped tribune, it is your duty to see to these. One afternoon, you set up a table in the middle of the worn palace and invite men to come air their grievances before you, and perhaps even raise a case against a fellow soldier. [] See To Repairs: The wing of the palace which Marius has dispensed to your legion is in need of repairs. Sacked when Mithridates first took this city, it has more than a few areas where the cold outside seeps in. Your men will not be half as effective if they freeze to death. [] Armor and Arms: Your men's equipment, though not shoddy by any means, is looking significantly less pristine after a year of traipsing through the Italian countryside. You seek out one of the publicani in Nicomedia to comission a new set of equipment for your men. You may have to pay out of pocket. [] Maintenance: Though it is the Camp Prefect's duty to ensure maintenance of equipment and materials, you begin to rigidly enforce the proper maintenance of personal weapons and armor. Through reduced rations and corporal punishment, you will force the men to ensure their equipment does not rust or rot. [] Brothers in Arms: You strive to mend the frayed relations between the patrician cavalry and the plebian legionnaires, which have grown worse over time. [] Justice Beyond The Walls: You begin cracking down on even minor offenses and crimes, making it more than clear that the rule of Rome applies even in her most distant provinces. The men respect a disciplinarian -- but they will never love him. [] Portents and Signs: You contact the Camp Augur and hold a public augury. Auguries are necessary to determine the fate of any military venture, as men are often nervous marching into battle without a sign from the gods, but if the augury is unfavorable to the campaign, the morale of the legion will be lowered.
Correspondence: As part of your efforts to stay on top of events in Rome, you write to one of your contacts elsewhere in the Republic. With such long travel times, anything you write will take a long time to arrive. However, that does not mean you cannot write. You write to... (response will arrive in 2-3 turns)
--[] Scaevola
--[] Cicero
--[] Atticus
--[] Proserpina
--[] Catiline
--[] Volero
Personal:
You are now commander of a legion, with little time left for personal frivolities. However, there are a few weeks of winter left before Marius can embark on his great march to reclaim Asia. This affords you more free time than you will likely have for the next few months, or even years. Use it wisely and use it well. Pick six. The calm before the storm
[] Brotherhood: You begin eating your meals with the men, to show them that you stand as one of them, not some aloof aristocrat. They care for you already, but this may well cement it. [] The Consul: You attempt to strike up a conversation with the disgraced consul, Scipio Asiaticus. Confined to his rooms by Marius and publicly humiliated in front of his own men, he sits and stews in silent rage in the halls of the Bithynian kings. [] The General: Marius. Busy directing a war and writing furious missives back to Rome, the great general has little time for personal frivolities. Yet if you can get him to take a liking to you, your own position in Rome will surely soar. Both Sertorius and Sulla began their rise to power under his wing. [] The Scipians: Unlike Sertorius, who traveled with a single slave, Scipio has brought along a veritable entourage of slaves, clients, friends, and cronies. These Scipians are largely plebian men of all stripes, and you attempt to integrate yourselves with them in order to learn something more of their new master, Cassianus, who seems to have become a focal point for them -- a novus homo who has risen from their ranks to lead a legion. [] The Marians: The soldiers and legions now serving under Marius are devoted in their loyalty to the great general. You seek to make connections with these men, and form relationships which may serve you well back in Rome. Perhaps the greatest of these Marians is the legatus Gnaeus Papirus Carbo, legatus of the Seventh Legion and Marius' second in command. [] Seafaring: Rufus had some damned scroll about the sea and Hannibal and boats. In your spare time, you flick through it. [] Si Vis Pacem: The Greek city-states in Asia and the Greek mainland have long maintained their independence and autonomy, even as nominal vassals of Rome. You read up on their histories, rivalries, and old friendships, that you might make use of these in your campaign. [] Para Bellum: You begin studying the campaigns against the Macedonians and the Greeks over a century ago, hoping to learn more about Greek tactics, that you might counter them better. [] Res Publica: You study the formations of your own legions, the way Romans fight. After all, you may soon be doing war with Romans -- and what is more Roman than that? [] The Crone of Bithynia: On the hills outside the city lives a wrinkled old seer, a woman of incredible age whose eyes are blind with years. She is kissed by the sun god, they say, and speaks with tongues of prophecy. Mithridates himself visited her during his time in the city. [] The Cult: You call together the cult of Mars, hoping to influence the officers and tribunes within towards your viewpoint on the new tribune. (Need to pick either Undermine, Overshadow, or Make Terms above.)
[] The City of the Kings of Asia: Bithynia, for a time, was the mightiest kingdom in Asia, and Nicomedia was it's crown jewel. By attempting to integrate yourself with the people here and getting to know figures of import, you might lay the ground for better things in the future. [] The King Without A Crown: Nicomedes, last client king of Bithynia, is actually here in the city his fathers ruled and Mithridates forced him from. He has several times brought up the idea of reinstalling him as king, but with Marius busy with other matters, the claimant king is forced to make himself a guest in his own city. You might call upon him. [] The Prince: Bithynia is not short on royalty. Ptolemy, one of the princes of Egypt, long exiled from his native land, made himself a guest of Mithridates and remained in Nicomedia after the city fell to Rome. Famed as a great partier and player of the flute, he has resided in a palatial estate here in the city with his family and retainers. You could pay the heir of the Pharaohs a visit. [] Study: You study the campaigns of Marius in Africa, hoping to learn something about defeating a hostile kingdom while protecting Roman clients. That Marius himself is here does not hurt matters either.
There is now a TWENTY-FOUR HOUR MORATORIUM on all votes.
Use this time to discuss the choices available and create different Plans. As previously discussed, any votes not in plan form, or submitted before the moratorium is up, will not be counted.
As always, discussion is rewarded. (As are Omakes and Reaction posts.)
He's not classical Roman, but I'd consider Dante a useful reference, given how heavily the Middle Ages were influenced by Roman sources.
In Dante's Infero, the innermost (9th) circle of hell is reserved for traitors. There are four regions of this circle. The first, Caina, is reserved for those who committed treason against their own family. Moving inward, the second, Antenora, is reserved for those who committed treason against their native city. The third, Ptolomea, is allotted to those who committed treason against guests (think Walder Frey betraying guest-right).
The fourth and final region, Judecca, lies at the very center of hell and is the place of the harshest tortures -- and it is reserved for those who committed treason against their benefactors. This region is named for Judas Iscariot, who betrayed his patron and teacher Jesus Christ. The region is also populated by Brutus and Cassius, who betrayed Caesar -- Caesar had by the MIddle Ages had taken on symbolic importance as the epitome of civil authority. Finally, this same region is also the prison of Lucifer, Satan himself, the first and most beautiful of angels who betrayed the ultimate patron: God.
Basically: the relationship of a patron (or benefactor) to a client was one of the most central relationships in the entire pre-modern world, antiquity to Renaissance. Betrayals occurred, but of course they did, but they were always seen with a sort of special repugnance, not least because the first exemplar of such treason was Satan, and the ultimate exemplar was Judas Iscariot. Those are Christian models, not shared by the ancient Romans, but the Romans had models of their own that were just as compelling.
So yes, patron-client relationships are a big deal.
...woah. So that happened. Not sure what to do next, honestly. My instinct tells me to try and work together with the guy, but this *is* Rome. If we try and work together only for him to secretly undermine us at every turn, then everything we worked for will turn to ash. As such, I'm leaning towards the befriend option.
I for one believe that we should attempt to dominate the legion over this guy. Undermine would only lead to confusion in the ranks if messed up, and I'd much rather we be the sole hero of these men so no befriending or hashing out plans.
I for one believe that we should attempt to dominate the legion over this guy. Undermine would only lead to confusion in the ranks if messed up, and I'd much rather we be the sole hero of these men so no befriending or hashing out plans.
[] The Prince: Bithynia is not short on royalty. Ptolemy, one of the princes of Egypt, long exiled from his native land, made himself a guest of Mithridates and remained in Nicomedia after the city fell to Rome. Famed as a great partier and player of the flute, he has resided in a palatial estate here in the city with his family and retainers. You could pay the heir of the Pharaohs a visit.
Positively hilarious. That tongue-lashing was beautiful to read and we're now under Marius command. I'm getting an eerie feeling that we'll be facing against Sulla subordinates soon enough. Let's hope we're ready by then.
Doing 'Undermine' right now sounds like a really bad idea. One wrong move and it might appear as if we're trying to undermine Marius' authority. What I think we should do:
1) Make a deal with him to get him off our back, meanwhile build connections with other influential people.
2) Use those connections to overshadow him.
3) Alter the deal and make him pray we don't alter it any further.
In terms of doing better in the war? Yes. In political terms, no.
As I stated earlier, I'd much rather work towards the legion having sole loyalty towards the MC, and I am very much willing to choose my long-term goals for potential short-term impediment.
EDIT: You guys voted to not go with Sertorius in order to do some Roman intrigue around the future Roman Lake, so I am working with what I have.
So, one one had our attempt to ingratiate ourselves with the consul failed, badly. on the other, out of sheer serendipity, that no longer matters as much
I do think we need to approach [] The Scipians if only because I fear the Consul might try something and keeping an ear thhere might be of help if he decides to do something ill advised
In terms of doing better in the war? Yes. In political terms, no.
As I stated earlier, I'd much rather work towards the legion having sole loyalty towards the MC, and I am very much willing to choose my long-term goals for potential short-term impediment.
[] Promote Centurions: A few centurions and lower-ranking officers left the legion in Rome, their service having ended. Several soldiers who served with distinction during the Samnite campaign may well stand to replace them. Men you raise up may be loyal to you in the future.
I think this is a must no matter what route we take with our co-commander. Having the rest of the Officers, people we know and have fought alongside, be raised up by our hand should do a lot to shore up our position with them.
I say this, but in hindsight with that one message with Marius being infuriated that he only got one legion, it's probably for the best that we didn't take that option. We don't know what the DC for Sertorius persuading them would have been, but I can't imagine it would have been easy.
