Telborea

[Johnny Walac]

In the realm of Telan...

Telborea

Telborea was once a city state amount many of others on the mainland of Telan. The name of this vast landmass was recently decided, while the city of Telborea is very old. It was only recently that visitors from other realms made it to the continent by ship, while Telborea itself sent out explorers who reported back news of island civilizations and other continents.

Telborea co-existed with many other settlements in the fertile hill country of central Telan for half a century. In an area known for trade of iron, bronze, clay, timber and stone by river ports, Telborea was exceptionally well located at the river Oloar. The city soon expanded to both sides of the river, and its chief architects were forced to learn to build bridges to tie the city together. Traders from upstream came through to sell their wares and spend their coin in the city and brought with them news of the high cultures of the plains, of many gods that were honored there and many inventions in the arts of architecture, philosophy, metallurgy. Roads from Telborea were hardly more than tracks often travelled by cattle herders, but the Telborean merchants travelled them at great risk to sell their goods to those of its neighbors who lacked their own ports in exchange for raw materials. The city states eventually developed to a point where the goods imported form inland on one of the great rivers became not luxuries, but necessities to maintain their level of civilization and Telborea was one of only a dozen cities with access to a river port.

Telborea had been ruled for five hundred years by the soft hands of merchants, who hired private cohorts to patrol the streets to maintain law and order. Their council was the main political power of Telborea, with only one tribune from the working people of the city and one from the animal herders and farmers in the surrounding country to consider before dictating the future of the city. They became aware of Telborea's rising prominence and power, and the promise of great prosperity. Prices of goods were continuously raised, and their neighbors had few alternatives but to pay, sending the Telboreans even more of their resources in return for imported goods. The profit was used to enrich the merchants, but also for public works such as statues, public baths and the first Telborean library. Learned men began to collect written knowledge from the high cultures of the inland cities and developed some of their arts with inventions of their own. The most significant investment however was in the productions of weapons and armor. The merchant elite saw the future where one of their neighbors would no longer endure the Telborean monopoly on trade along the river, and prepared the city accordingly.

The Telborean trading partner to the west, the city of Varinth, finally grew weary of the Telborean trade practices. The Varinthian citizens raised up in arms, armed and armored with the bronze that was the main commodity of the town. The army of Varinth marched out and the Telboreans raised their legion, citizens armed with iron breastplates and swords. The two inexperienced armies met in the rough hill country between the two cities and the battle turned into an indecisive massacre where countless lives were lost to fatigue and confusion. For the years to follow Telborea and Varinth skirmished in the hills, neither side gaining a decisive advantage. The Telboreans were better armed for skirmishing, but the Varinthians with their bronze spears would often hold the line and push back any larger advance with lethal effect. The tide of war turned with the rise of a young tribune to military command. Marcus Artorius, a Telborean citizen with no wealth or noble ancestry, gained command of the legion after the death of three higher officers in a minor battle. Under his command the Telborean legion used its advantage in speed and agility to circumvent and destroy much of the Varinthian army. Following the battle of the Stellatian hill where the Varinthian force was utterly destroyed, he was hailed by the Telborean troops, hardened veterans after years of war, as Imperator. He quickly marched on Varinth and the city surrendered to Telborea, becoming the first client state. The city received a Telborean governor and was commanded to provide taxes to Telborea and manpower to be trained in the ways of the Legion. Its citizens were forced to build the first real road in the area, making merchants able to travel between Telborea and Varinth on a stone-laid highway. In future wars, Telborea would not be so generous to those who defied her.

The ruling council of Telborea celebrated the victory. With the road being constructed and the copper mine of Varinth under Telborean control trade flourished like never before and bronze ornaments and statues began to adorn the Telborean temples and villas. They failed to notice the popularity of the Imperator at first, but soon came to realize that the balance of power had shifted when the common people came to see their military commander as a savior who could protect their interests. The social struggle between the commoners and the merchant elite was interrupted by wars against other neighbors, who were driven into debt and desperation by the Telborean trade monopoly, but the Telborean Legion could not be opposed and other cities fell. Those who agreed to submit to Telborea were treated like client states, while those who sent their men to the battlefield were annexed, their provinces falling under the rule of Telborean magistrates. These people had their civil rights taken from them for their insolence and became servants of Telborea. Roads started to reach out to connect cities further from the Oloar river where ever the Telboreans would go, and what was once a city state started to become a nation. At the same time the council of merchants lost their grasp of power. The Imperators, supported by the common people, became the rulers of Telborea. The entire society was militarized by the constant struggles and a professional army was raised, paid for and equipped by the state. People from the conquered cities moved to Telborea to grasp opportunities of trade, and the city expanded.

Further down the Oloar lay the Kingdom of Cinai, governed by an aristocratic family of tyrants. As they came into contact with Telborea when her borders pushed south, the Telboreans experienced something that they had nearly forgotten: the threat of a competitor. The hills were softer and the terrain less broken in this kingdom, and the Cinaii were known as fierce horsemen and loyal soldiers with a tradition of duty to the tyrant. Negotiations over the trade rights on the Oloar broke down, and Cinaii invaded Telborean soil, capturing its client cities and vanquishing its armies. Radical changes swept through Telborea at the threat of foreign invasion. All of the client cities' levies were combined with Telborea's Legion, forming several Legions. They were equipped with heavy plate armor, tower shields and heavy broadswords and taught to fight in unison, motivated by the black smoke of allied lands set ablaze by the soldiers of Cinaii. The servant people were granted Telborean citizenship if they fought as lightly armed pike men to support the Legions, and many of those unfortunate men signed up to fight for their conquerors to regain the rights they had lost long ago. Imperator Stratus Invictus marched south with the Legions, numbering tens of thousands, and met the Cinaii on the field. The new system of war, highly professional, effective and merciless, proved to preserve the liberty of Telborea and spell doom for the Kingdom of Cinai. Before the battle, Stratus Invictus claimed to have been given a vision from the gods of an eternal realm reaching out to govern the entire world, a rule to right all wrongs and bring about the golden age. He called it Empire, and in the ashes and blood on the battlefield the Telborean Empire was born.

Telborean soldiers marched mile after mile on the great campaign against Cinai. The Kingdom rivaled Telborea and its allies in population and territory, and the battles were fought on a scale unimaginable for the previous generation. Hundreds of horsemen would charge across battlefields to rip men on foot to pieces with their spears before being impaled on the myriad pikes of the light troops of Telborea. The ranks of soldiers would stand shoulder to shoulder from sunset to sundown pressing the enemy, but the men on both sides understood that to run was to die, and neither army would yield easily. The warriors forged in the fires of this great war would have been nightmarish predators toward all they conquered had it not been for the divine guidance of the Imperator. Many great works of Cinai culture and art were spared when their cities fell, and civilians were rarely butchered as long as they complied with the Telborean rule established over them. The long gruesome war ended in the great battle of Cinastephon where the tyrant, King Deoklies, was slain. Within months every flame of resistance in the former Kingdom was stomped out and the Telborean Empire doubled its territory, gaining control over the Oloar river from the city of Telborea itself to the southern coast. The conquest brought with it changes. The Cinaii had revered their tyrants and sworn to follow them without question and had raised statues and temples that depicted not only the gods, but also the living ruler of their realm. Stratus Invictus was impressed by the personal cult the tyrants had received, and soon statues of the Imperator were placed in Telborean temples. Much of the plunder from the campaign was used to construct the massive Pantheon of Telborea.

With the vast population, wealth and military strength of Telborea none of the remaining free city states could stand against them, and the uniform rule of the Imperator of Telborea expanded to include the entire culture of city states and kingdoms south of the great high culture of the central plains of Telan. The myriad of independent cities and small kingdoms were soon to have one law, one currency and one ruler. The Vanguard of Telborea was formed to fight as the Imperator's personal soldiers in battle, and the guard the burgeoning Empire against moral decay and black magic that became an increasing threat as the Telboreans encountered foreign cultures. The Empire expanded naturally to the limits of the city state culture of central Telan, and there it ceased. For two decades the Telboreans build roads, aqueducts and trade forts throughout their nation, inceasing their prosperity and military prowess every years as natural resources were exploited at a greater rate than ever and population kept growing. At the death of Imperator Gemillus Varus, Taurus Victor was chosen as his successor. The young man moved the Telboran civilization into action once more, leading one great army north while two others headed west and east under the command of trusted generals. For the years to come Telborea would conquer the known world.

Written by Mike.


Vanguard of Telborea

The military elite of the Emperor of Telborea.

Based in the city of Telborea, the once city state now ruling the entire continent, the Vanguard has thousands of dedicated soldiers at its disposal, both infantry and cavalry. During times of war the Vanguard serves as the elite core of the Telborean Legions. The Vanguard is made up of hand picked veterans from the Legions of Telborea.

When not on campaign the Vanguard upholds the law of the Emperor and the virtues of the gods. They sometimes take their time to interrogate and judge common criminals, but concentrate on those who violate the peace of the gods the the Emperor by using black magic or conspiring against the Empire. The Vanguard also upholds public morality, ensuring the continued prosperity of the Telborean culture.

The beginning

The Emperor Taurus Victor wanted too expand the empire. Not just across the sea but to another realm. Captain Thoeak Milner and High Judge Lucius Camulus was sent into a magic portal, into an unknown realm...

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[Johnny Walac]

Pangaea

There is no way back. No return. Thoeak and Lucius is stuck on this realm. They were sent too expand the empire, spread the word of K'arcan. Building an army from scratch is no easy thing. Neither possess the charisma of Taurus, seems easy enough for him. They were met with great hostility like expected but longer then they thought. Thoeak scouted the land in the first years of his arrival and at the third year the first attack was made. It was the beginning of Pangaea's first Telborean Vanguard. The elite force for the emperor. When they found out there was no way out new ideas came to their minds. This land isn't perfect, Telborea is perfect. They will make a new kingdom. A great kingdom with a force strong enough to keep it free from crimes and infidels. Where the citizens live safe without fear. A kingdom free from corruption and sins. Telborea shall rule Pangaea. Ah! If Taurus could see them now. Spilling blood in his name, spilling blood for Telborea the greatest empire man has ever seen.

[Johnny Walac]

Pangaea

Legio XII Victrix marches again in this world. Lead by a man named Thoeak Milner they stand stall on the battlefield. Surrounded by death and war they are the true power of the realms.

[Johnny Walac]

Pangaea

The new Kingdom has finally reached acceptable numbers of citizens. Thoeak held a meeting with the Legion and they stood proud as he rewarded them with the finest gifts. That night they feasted in the halls of Telborea and the next day the message was sent to Taurus Victor of their recent accomplishment.

[Johnny Walac]

The 12th legion was created for the war against the desert tribes and was levied by Emperor Taurus Victor. The desert tribes were known for their brutality but so far in the history of Telborea no one could stand against the Empire. The legion got the name Legio XII Victrix which meant “victorious”. The 12th legion was commanded by general Kartec from the Vanguard, a trusted leader and a good tactician. Even during the creation of the legion it gained famed as it was known general Kartec would lead it. He had led so many legions to victory and was a good friend of the Emperor so that when the legion formed up outside Telborea before their march to war the whole city cheered them. Legio XII Victrix descended from the hills of Telborea towards the city of Aquilinum where they would get the final supplies before entering enemy grounds. The 5th legion that was created during the reign of Gemillus Varus was station at Aquilinum and had faced the tribes before. They were veterans of war and several were granted to sign up for Legio XII Victrix. They were stationed outside the city for three months before everything was ready. At the end of the year 104, Six thousand soldiers lead by general Kartec marched through the city and into the enemy lands of Set.

The 12th legion had prepared with hundreds casks of water for the journey through the desert. But the casks were disappearing as fast as lives. The hot gaze of the sun was never resting as the legion marched on leaving corpses behind. The desert tribes were always raiding their flanks then disappearing. During the night some pickets was found dead, throats cut off. Only the first day had the legion stood victorious against the tribes when they attack head on. The disciplined soldiers of Telborea could easily fend off and kill most of the attackers toe to toe. But this was different. The desert soldiers would never meet them in a fair fight. As soon a legion formed up for the attack the tribes disappeared amongst the sand hills only to attack a flank longer down the legion. But this did not stop the march. The 12th legion kept on going into their homelands. Most villages they found were empty but from time to time some village was too stubborn to leave. The legion took what they could for their soldiers then marched on. There were no men in the villages, only women and children who watched with hatred as the Telborean soldiers marched past. The desert people often had black or brown hair. Their skin was mulatto. They wore the hides of desert animals that would protect them from the sun. Sometimes a tribe member would strike a soldier but only to be killed. An attack on a soldier of the Empire is an attack on the Emperor himself and the punishment is death.

He looked up at the sun and it gazed back at him. It felt as he hadn’t stopped walking in centuries. His legs have grown numb and his feet were covered in blisters. He tried to save the day’s ration of water but it was hard. There were flies constantly on the sores around his mouth and he had to keep them away so they wouldn’t lay eggs in the wounds. He had seen with his own eyes as a soldier cut of the flesh around his mouth when he discovered maggots crawling out from the wounds. When the night came the soldiers covered themselves in the garbs they still had. No one actually knew how big this desert was or where they were going. Captured tribe soldiers often spoke of different things. The end of the desert is the end of the world or that the god Set awaits us at the end only to devour the soldiers. But at least they all had something to say in common that made Thoeak glad, they all said the desert ends. He stroke is beard in thought of what really lied at the end of this hell. He didn’t bother shaving anymore. In the beginning he had shaved to keep the standards of a Captain but no one cared anymore. He would probably be killed if he wasted water on something like that. They were losing men and fast.

The legion was constantly locked in battle. No one knew how long they had been there but they had lost over a thousand men. Soldiers of the 12th legion will say today that they had entered the abyss when they walked out of Aquilinum. The land itself fought against them. A few months into year 105 the scouts reported to Kartec about an army only one day ahead. The people of the desert had gathered for a final clash. The now weary soldiers of Telborea would end it there. The orders went out and armors were being donned. That night no one could sleep. Around the fires sat soldiers with wet stones and sharpened their weapons.

The armies faced each other. The banner of Legio XII Victrix waved in the wind. The battlefield was a flat sand dune and the sun stood high. The desert army had placed themselves on higher ground and the ground shook as their whole army lunged forward in one motion against the foreign invaders. When the tribe warriors were close enough the two front lines of the Telborean army released a wave of bolts against them. They pierced the light armor of the warriors and some were flung back by the power. The two lines made way for two new ones and they too released a wave of death. A third wave was released before heavy infantry took their place. Shields high and their short sword ready the desert army crashed into Legio XII Victrix. The heavy infantry did not yield and every soldier lowered their shield only to cut down the attacker then raise the shield again. Over and over again the attackers were cut down. Kartec watched as the desert warriors ran into the disciplined soldiers of Telborea only to be cut down. After months of harassing the Legion their leader thought Telborea would be weak and easy. They had underestimated Telborea which was their biggest mistake. He gave the command and the flanks marched forward. He had placed the heavy infantry in the middle as the enemy would try to cut it down to split the army. Though Legio XII Victrix would not yield to these barbarians. The medium infantry marched up the flank and had the enemy half surrounded. In silence the 12th legion cut down warrior after warrior. The sand drank their blood and those desert warriors who could now retreated.

The night the scout had reported the desert army Kartec had a meeting with the captains. They would set out immediately straight north and then keep east. Thoeak lead his squad and in total they were five hundred medium infantry soldiers. The sun rose and the small force kept on going east and now they were in position. They could hear the battle that went on for several hours before the enemies horn of retreat was heard. They rushed out unto the hill and could now gaze upon the blood bath. Kartec had almost fully surrounded the enemy and the desert warriors now tried to run back up the hill only to see Thoeak with five hundred soldiers waiting for them. He could see the fear in their eyes and the shame of their defeat. But Thoeak had been given the command. Kartec wanted this to end now. No mercy was to be given, their retreat shall be stopped and every tribe soldiers must be killed. Thoeak gave the command and the Telborean soldiers descended from the hill to cut down the fleeing enemy. When some of the desert warriors saw enemies in their path of retreat they gave up. Fell down to the knees and cut open their own throat. Some warriors turned into frenzied animals and fought until they were cut down. It was a slaughter. Thoeak’s blade slashed out and severed the arm of the warrior. A savage cut that took the head off ended the life of the tribe man. The sword grip was slick with blood as he cut down warrior after warrior. Several soldiers fell down to their knees and begged for mercy in their foreign tongue. Thoeak was a Captain that followed his orders and he slit the throat of everyone. The 12th legion stood victorious. As the legion had recovered scouts reported about a city a few days march from there.

The city did not try to defend itself. The walls were empty and Legio XII Victrix marched into the city of Set. The city was a cluster of sandstone houses but the temple of Set was a gigantic building in the middle. It towered most temples in Telborea and outside stood golden statues of the foreign god. Legio XII Victrix had killed every defender the city had and now they yielded. Their king had died in the battle but his son gave Kartec the crown as a token. The city was now theirs. The legion was to be stationed there until further notice. Messengers were dispatched and soon enough they got word of building the outpost. Seven hundred men and builders were ordered to follow the river. They had been given a map by the city council. The outpost Sekaton was to be built at the end of the river near the sea. The statues of Set was razed and the gold melted down to be sent back to Telborea along with some of the city treasury. Kartec now declared this land to be owned by the Emperor Taurus Victor.

The bar door slammed open and a Telborean soldier walked out. He started to make his way back to the barracks. The city of Set was rather big and so the barracks were divided in different parts of the town. He could think no more of it as a dagger slipped in beneath is ribs and the ground rushed up to meet him. The killer wrote on the wall with the soldier’s blood. The words could easily be understood as “Death to Telborea”. That night several officers and soldiers died and the same thing written on the wall. Some died in the barracks by skilled assassins and some died on the street.

Kartec stood below the temple of Set and watched upon the line of people. He had gathered the ten richest men in the city known for their hatred and plans for resistance against Telborea. He took the death of his soldiers harsh. They did not die in the field of battle but in their beds or on the street.

“With your tongue you planned the death of Telborea . It was basicly you who killed my soldiers with your own hands. We shall burn out your tongue so you can no longer whisper the words of hatred. We shall cut of your hands so you can no longer fight against Telborea. And after this we shall take your life. Your lives though are not worth much in comparison with my soldiers. I claim all your belongings and treasure from your family. Let it be known for every dead Telborean soldier there will be ten dead of you.”

Kartec gave the order and there, outside the temple of Set the ten citizens were punished. Their tongue burned out and their hands cut off before nailed to a cross through their arms and legs. And in the eyes of Set they bled out. After this there were no more assassinations.

The 12th Legion was still stationed at Sekaton and in the city of Set to keep down any resistance from the people. Sekaton built a harbor and two years later the first ship from Telborea reached them. Every soldier in Legio XII Victrix had lined up on the market infront of the temple of set. Emperor Taurus Victor had come to behold the huge temple of Set and to congratulate Kartec on his victory.

For the years to come the 12th legion named Legio XII Victrix was stationed there in the desert to uphold the Telborean laws.

[Mike]

Gods of War

The city state of Esiolonai, flanked by the Sea of Fallen Titans and the wastelands of K’andar, was a beautiful land. Mile after mile of golden yellow fields stretched from east to west, dotted by elegant villas and proud cities. Trails from far-away mountains brought iron, tin and copper to lend splendor to the tall warrior race that had tamed the land and shaped nature’s clay into a sculptured civilization without equal in aesthetic virtue. Slaves had harvested the fields without being burdened by chains for a hundred years, and noble horsemen kept the land tranquil, bound by an ancient warrior ethos. News from foreign nations had not concerned Esiolonai, who found itself in an eternal golden age. That was before the claws of the Telborean Eagle had buried themselves in its rich black soil. A wide track of mud scarred the land, disappearing over the eastern horizon. At its head, the Telborean army under Legatus Titus Imperiosus marched into Esiolonai.

Smoke had risen from the temples across the realm as sacrifices were made, pleading the gods for wisdom and strength. A great army had been gathered. The Esiolonai fought in their traditional way. Their horsemen rode into battle with heavy xyston lances, and their poor would use slings and bows. The bulk of the army was made up of men who fought in heavy armor, with spears and large round shields. Such were those now gathered on the fields of the eastern outpost of Dremachaea. Three parallel lines, each five men deep, held the field. Their bronze and iron armor and the sharp tips of their spears would present a deadly barrier for any foreigner. What little knowledge the wise council of Esiolonai had managed to gather suggested that the Legions of Telborea preferred to make a strong thrust on the right flank, relying on their ability to overwhelm their enemies on one flank while the center and left held their ground, thus either forcing a rout or surrounding their opponents. The Esiolonaians were prepared, as the last quarter of their infantry kneeled behind their center. The Telboreans would find a great deal of enemies aiming their spears directly at their hearts, splitting their force in two. Such was the battle plan of the great Esiolonaians, who would keep their powerful horsemen in reserve to break up any concentrated attacks that threatened the integrity of their battle line.

The master of infantry, a tall bronze-skinned man known as Philip of Eron, laid his Aegis shield aside and kneeled. His fingers dug into the fertile dirt below. He was not certain their strategy would suffice, and even if it did, the promise of an easy victory was hollow indeed. The army of Esiolonai had fought only barbarians for centuries, their wars with rival city states were considered part of antiquity. The Telboreans were conquerors who fielded wave after wave of battle-hardened killers, and the unjust reasons for their war did not seem to stop them. Careful not to betray his doubts, Philip raised his fistful of dirt to the sky, and called out.

“Zeus king of kings, hear our plea! We brothers of Esiolonai have gathered to defend the golden fields you granted us, the earth we shaped to honor your name. To you we grant our finest cattle, a tenth of our silver and gold, our marble and stone to carry your name in eternity. Stand with your children on this day and give us victory, and your name will live on always with the Esiolonaians. Give us a sign, great Zeus!”
Silence followed, as Philip waited with his hand held to the heavens. Thousands of eyes turned skyward, and a single crack of thunder was heard.

The harsh glare of Legatus Titus Imperiosus, commander of the western Legions of Telborea, was cast upon each tent he passed on his way from the palisade to his command post. Every now and then he found fault, and whether a tent was damaged or incorrectly placed in relation to the others, he ordered one of his officers to correct the problem without exception. Those who had marched east from the Telborean heartland had learned to endure the discipline, for it had brought them victory in every battle. Telborean Legionaries, free from duty with the camp established, ate their meals at prepared campfires with little complaint now that the rich land the campaign had taken them to provided them supplies. Some played flutes or string instruments, young men talked about the upcoming battle while veterans spoke of home, a few gathered to offer cult to the gods. His walk took him past the infantry lodgings to his command post, a large tent raised centrally in the camp. Upon entering he was saluted by the officers of all the Legions gathered, though there were not a great many. Each Legion would send two tribunes, and there was also the quartermaster, the priest and the ranking officer of the Imperial Order. Once the formal greetings were out of the way, maps were brought to their table. On the crudely drawn map, fields, roads and forests were marked, along with symbols displaying the last known position of their enemies. Heated discussion broke out almost immediately, but after a few hours the battle plan was made. Titus informed the officers that the planning was done, and raised his goblet to his companions. “To Telborea and victory!” he proclaimed, and the others echoed his words.

Lucius Camulus, Decurion of the Vanguard, watched Titus Imperious raise his bloody dagger in salute to the sky while the lifeblood of the ox poured over the sacred stone, bleeding profusely from a cut across the throat. The mighty white ox lost its strength and slowly collapsed, and the priest of the camp took the dagger from the Legatus, who stood with his head covered in the sacred square, surrounded on all sides by Legionaries at attention. He addressed the divine personification of Jupiter, a golden statuette placed before the sacred stone.
“O Jupiter, god of our ancestors. We offer you this sacrifice so that you grant us victory this day. When our enemies have fallen I will take their weapons and armor, their banners and shields, and place them before you at the Pantheon to honor you. Stand with us, Jupiter Victor!” A single crack of thunder was heard, and the Legatus drew his sword and thrust it skywards. “To battle, Telboreans!”

Lucius Camulus sat uneasy on horseback far behind the vanguard and watched the Telborean infantry filter through the tree line ahead to form up for battle. The cavalry of the Vanguard was to stay behind until the encirclement began, and then hit the flank of their enemies hard enough to force a rout. The entire mounted cohort remained under the shadows of the leaves as the rest of the troops marched ahead. Trumpets blasted and men shouted orders, and the Legions started to arrange in battle order with the strong right flank pushing ahead. Lucius ordered his men on at a creeping pace, horses stepping carefully in the undergrowth. They stopped just short of the open field, and he could see the enemy. They presented their spears and marched to meet the advancing Telborean Legions. From his vantage point he saw his brothers on foot slam into the Esiolonaians like a hammer, and their battle line staggered. The right was pushed back as men with red cloaks slashed and thrust their way through the compact formation of enemies while the left and center engaged with shields first, making contact to tie their enemies down in melee and make them unresponsive to pressure from their right flank. Even from a distance, the screams of the wounded and the clatter of bronze and iron spoke of battle of the highest order. The Legatus sent out runners constantly, directing the separate cohorts from his command point with precision to maximize the momentum of their attack. Lucius watched the rear cohorts on the right flank reform and expand the line, threatening to cut into the enemy from the side, reacting to the orders of their general with haste. War was a wonderful thing, Lucius thought. The ingenuity and power of man was at its peak in this struggle, so gut-wrenchingly brutal yet directed with such finesse and carried out with such practiced perfection. The Telborean assault had nearly overtaken the defenders when their second line joined the battle. Horns blasted once, and they buried the ends of their spears in the ground and formed a shield wall. The advance stopped, and Lucius frowned. The horns blasted again, cutting through the noise of war, and the Esiolonaians pushed back. Men on both sides died in great numbers as iron-tipped spears found their marks with uncanny precision while Telborean broadswords hacked into exposed limps at every opportunity. The battle line was stabilized as neither side could take the initiative on foot. Another signal was given from the enemy command post, and their horsemen set off towards their left, threatening the largest concentration of Telborean troops on the flank.

The stench of bodies pierced and cut asunder almost had Philip disoriented. He pressed his way ahead with his comrades, pushing forward one step at a time while ignoring the soft, slippery surface his boots treaded on as he did. Death was everywhere, but he was proud of his countrymen. With heavy casualties they had resisted the shock of the charge, and now they pushed on. Philip watched a spear thrust hit a Telborean’s breastplate. The man lost his breath and dropped his guard, and another spear found its way into his neck. Its wielder pulled his weapon back quickly, leaving the Telborean to die from the wound without exposing himself. If every encounter had gone so well, Philip would not have cursed constantly under his breath. His spear had been cut off earlier, and he had taken an inferior weapon from a fallen comrade. He heard a whistle blow and the Telboreans took a step back as fresh men pushed their way to the front and led with their shields. They charged as a wall of shields, and Philip shouted at the top of his lungs, ordering the men around him to brace themselves. He leveled his spear and felt his arm go numb as the iron tip hit the shield. It bounced off the iron boss, and he grasped for a dagger as the charging Telborean pushed his shield aside to make room. The broadsword of his enemy was swung in an arc from above, and Philip instinctively crouched. The iron blade hit his helmet, and he felt the blow paralyze him as his muscles turn to water and he fell, his dagger dropped uselessly to the ground. The man behind him managed an overhand thrust, and Philip, struggling to keep his eyes open, watched with blurry vision as the tip slid through the eye of the Telborean Legionary and killed him instantly. A pair of hands grabbed him under the arms and dragged Philip, who kicked without force to hasten his retreat, away from the fighting.

Orders arrived from the Legatus, and Lucius’ cavalry charged across the field to engage the rival horsemen who urged their steeds towards the flank with haste. They rode behind the line of battle, racing towards the flank. Suddently another signal blasted, and the Esiolonaian horsemen reigned their horses in, with many mounted warriors colliding with each other. Lucius grinned as he watched them, knowing he would tear the enemy lines apart and secure victory for Telborea. His joy was interrupted as his own horse stumbled, the feathered shaft of an arrow pointing out from its muscular neck. All around him, arrows and rocks fell upon his cavalry. Lucius was thrown off his horse and the spear was twisted out of his hand as he hit the ground. Hooves were trampling the dirt around him, and horses and men screamed. “Shield, shields!” he shouted, and some were saved as they raised their shields to block the crippling volley. The tip of an arrowhead punched through his shield and he realized they had to fall back or die. In the corner of his eyes he watched a soldier slump off his horse, his helmet dented by several rocks. Lucius whispered a prayer to the god of war and dropped his shield, sprinted the few steps necessary and placed his foot in the stirrup of the now empty saddle. He furiously pushed himself up and, once mounted, gave shout to the men under his command.
“Ride! Back to the lines!”
Pressing himself against the back of the animal, he cursed and prayed as the arrows whirred by. More than once a rock thrown by a sling hit his chest or back, but the armor held. Behind him men still died, but most of them turned their steeds and followed him away from the rain of death. He put his heels to the sides of the horse he had taken, and suddently, the projectiles stopped falling. They had made it through. Turning around, the bitter toll of the trap was clear to him. One out of three had not made it back. They were given no time to rest, as another messenger from the Legatus arrived. Lucius turned his eyes to the battle. The Esiolonaians pushed the center back as their bristling spears formed a wedge that pressed against the Eagle of the Fourth Legion. Hundreds of spearmen rose up from their kneeling positions behind the line to reinforce the wedge, adding force and momentum. Lucius cursed bitterly. Men from the right flank were directed by furiously waving officers and a cacafony of signals to aid the Fourth Legion as they struggled to hold their line. Chaos grasped the battlefield as men died without cohesion and strategy, left to fend off their enemies at their own initiative once their officers had been impaled on Esiolonaian spears. The messenger spoke up with a high pitched voice, breaking the moment of despair.
“Your orders are to defend the Eagle of the Fourth! You must ride out now!” The messenger relayed the words of the Legatus with no small amount of panic. Lucius gestured with his spear to his fellow horsemen, and put his heels to the sides of his mount. They were charging into the fray.

Philip had come to his senses, and encouraged his men to greater efforts as they made way across the field. The Telborean invaders fell left and right before the spear tip of Esiolonaians forcing their way ahead. The golden Eagle he had set sights upon waved to and fro in front of them. Philip called out to his men, directing their attention towards the standard. Bitter fighting broke out as the Telboreans rallied around the standard, and Philip could picture their determination as they made their stand. If the standard could be taken the Telboreans would realize the gods had abandoned them, and the battle would be won. Step by step Philips armored wedge advanced, their flanks guarded by thousands of spears and shields. The Telboreans refused to give any ground. The men at the front were shield to shield. Daggers, clubs and bare hands were dishing out gruesome wounds. The spears and broadswords were too large to be used, and the battle turned into a brawl, each side pushing on the backs of their comrades to gain the advantage. Still, the Telboreans were too few, and ony by one they fell either with blood gushing frome knife wounds or knocked senseless, only to be trampled by advancing soldiers. The Esiolonaians broke through. On both sides of the Eagle, the Telboreans fell back, forming a circle around their standard. The center had fallen. Just as Philip ordered the final push, to send his troops in to breach the line wide open, he felt the ground tremble. Behind the line, Telborean horsemen rode up to the lines and threw themselves off their horses, entering battle with lust for blood and revenge overtaking them. The tired men fighting on the line had little resistance to offer against fresh fighters so possessed by the spirit of war, and the horsemen of the Vanguard reached the Eagle to press Esiolonai’s soldiers back. Philip noticed that although their skill was unmatched, and many of them had the grim features of veterans, they were short in numbers. A battle on foot has been the grave of many heroes, he thought, not without a bitterness. In the next moment, he ordered his men to reform and drive the Telboreans off the field.

He was taken by surprise when the Telborean horns blasted in unison. In a syncronized motion, the entire Telborean army took three steps back. Some wounded were dragged by their comrades, while others were cynically left to die. The Esiolonians stumbled as the entire battle came to a standstill. The Telboreans gave ground again, at the sound of their horns. Philip realized that discipline had been restored with the Eagle secured, and cursed his luck. He had been so close to ending the war, and saving Esiolonai from a long and ruthless campaign. The Esiolonaians spearmen pursued, but not without caution. When the urgent action was broken off, most were not eager to throw away their lives when their enemies were appearently on the run. The Telboreans retreated in the same organized manner until their Legions found cover under the trees from whence they had come, and the horsemen of Esiolonai could not take up pursuit. The last Philip saw of the foreign invaders were the dozen men left of the Fourth Legion, brandishing their golden Eagle before marching back into the forest.

[Mike]

Gods of War II

Summer turned to fall as the war raged on. Veteran Telborean Legionaries and Esiolonaian citizen-soldiers perished at such a rate that some feared the Underworld would soon be full of them, while others claimed to have seen their shades fight on in immaterial battle after nightfall. The tide of war had slowly turned and the Eagle of Telborea lost its crushing grip on the heartland of Esiolonium. Like a wounded animal it struggled ever more ferociously as blows were struck by those who stood to defend their land. Villages were sacked and fields burned in the wake of the retreating Legions. Partisans and spies were crucified in the open for their contrymen to find. Many Telboreans were struck with despair at the thought of the gods turning against them, but the decietful, prolonged conflict without end turned their hearts to stone. When the season turned cold and the rains begain to fall daily and the sky turned grey, the Legions were pushed into the great woods south of the Badlands of K’andar. The decision to make winter camp within the forest was made. Flanked by a great river to the north and the Sea of Fallen Titans to the south, the forest was a strategic location but had little to offer in ways of sustenance for an army of the size now camped within. Foragers were sent out every moning to gather what little the land had to offer, while Legionaries stood watch, cursing their luck with cold, damp cloaks wrapped around their bodies and no prospect of warmth or comfort.

Camulus was not on duty on that morning. He ate his ration of petrified berries without joy and drank several cups of water, to give his aching belly the impression it was full. There was no one to talk to in the tent he slept in, and had there been, they would have had nothing to say. Camulus was left with his memories. About two months ago the supply wagons had been attacked in the night. The moan of an ox had raised the guards, who came upon the wagon to find the beast of burden with its legs mutilated. They reported to have seen dark shapes scurry off in the night. The wheels had been hacked into by axes, but the work had been interrupted. The wagon could be saved, but not the ox. A sack of rations had been torn and was half-empty. Half a dozen auxiliaries were set to pull the wagon, and Camulus recieved his orders. The saboteurs must be tracked down and face the consequence of their actions.

Twenty horsemen from the Vanguard set out at first light. They had a native who had cast his lot in with the Telboreans at their side, a tracker of some experiece named Hieron. The Esiolonaian tracker called for Camulus after half an our of investigation, and shared the news.
“These were likely local farmers. Their tracks lead off to the north. There’s a hamlet up around there, been hurt bad by the war. Poor saps probably couldn’t take the cries of their hungry children and came to steal some food. “
“What about the dead ox? Why did they try to break the wagon?” Camulus asked irritably.
“Don’t know, sir.” Hieron replied.
“An attack on the Legion is an attack on the Emperor himself,” Camulus recited in a severe tone, and Hieron, though he seemed less than excited, had no words of protest to offer. The horsemen set out led by the tracker, crossing plown fields and meadows on their way north. The season of rain had not yet begun, and the day was pleasant. Camulus trusted the tracker not to betray them, and spent his attention on fixing the leather sheathe of his bow in a good position. The added weight and imbalance against his saddle vexed him as a man of military perfectionism. The Vanguard had been equipped with short, flexible bows during the campaign to deter the heavily armored riders of Esiolonai, and although no man in his unit was a good archer the armaments had been effective. After much tugging on staps and knots, he managed to find a position where the sheathe was out of the way. Camulus looked around and noticed a few of the men imitating his arrangement.

“Maybe they’ll get close some day, so we don’t have to use up our firewood killing them!” he shouted, and the men around him laughed. Archery was considered cowardly and effeminite by the Telborean Legionaries who prefered to fight at close quarters, and the Vanguard was no exception to this mentality. The comment broke the sullen mood of the group, and the soldiers talked amongst each other as they headed on north. At noon the tracker gave the signal to halt and dismounted. The Telboreans did the same. The Cinaian warhorses of the Vangauard, when free from the masters on their backs, scoffed contemptously at the tracker’s mount, a bland brown pull-horse that had served on a farm. The soldiers gathered around the tracker, who held his mount still with a firm grip of the rope-halter.

“The hamlet is up ahead. They know we’re coming. Someone observed us from the underbrush over there, but whoever it was got away before I could get an arrow off. They’ve probably sent the women and children off into the woods. There are caves and such up in the hill country, plenty of hiding places. It’s a safe bet that the men are holed up in the largest house in the hamlet.”

Camulus nodded and gave the order to advance. The Telboreans armed themselves with shields and spears for the assault. They spread out over the open field in front of the hamlet and started to close the distance, like a pack of wolves chasing down a stag. The wooden structures ahead seemed solid and well built, but the hamlet lacked any sort of pallisade. The public spaces between the houses were abandoned, and Hieron had been correct. Everyone who was not fit to fight had left the settlement. The Telborean horsemen slowed their pace as they entered the settlement, met only by open windows gaping empty. Pigs and sheep watched the invading soldiers idly from their pens. Camulus spotted a town hall of sorts, a two story wooden building located by an open area in the center of town. Its windows were barred shut, and the heavy oaken gates reinforced by iron. The roof was laid with bricks rather than hay. As a few Telboreans gathered outside the building, the head of an elderly man appeared in a window that had not been barred shut. His grey hair and beard matched the faded appearance of his archaic horse-hair helmet. Camulus straightened his back in the saddle and quickly gazed across the building, watching for any other locals. The elderly man spoke up and introduced himself as the village elder. Camulus bluntly stated the reason for the Vanguard’s presence.

“The men took only what they needed to eat! You’ve brougt starvation and death to our land. You take our crops, and expect us to idly starve?”
Camulus heard the plea of the elder. His facial features darkened into a frown under the brow of his helmet as he heard the reasoning of the old man. The light of compassion was blown out by his rising anger at the thought of hungry comrades, and he uttered a bitter command to one of the soldiers before dismounting. Within a minute, flames sparked from a house close by, and when the abrasive smoke started to drift across the open area turning voices harsh and eyes sore, he made his statement.

“An attack on the Legion is an attack upon the Emperor himself. Surrender your weapons and come out of the house, or the entire village and all those who hide in the woods will feel the fucking breath of Pluto on their necks!”

Before long the men of the hamlet came walking out. There were only eight of them, and they seemed in bad shape. The Telboreans gathered them up by the wall of the town hall. They huddled together, with rounded shoulders and shaking limbs. Dark spots stained the leggings of more than one of them. The youngest man cried, unable to face the iron spear tips on either side with dignity. The Telboreans barked orders and poked spears at them until they made a line against the wall. The elder spoke again once his people had fallen silent, save for a sniffle here and there. He pleaded for the life of the women and children while Camulus and the men in line behind him knocked arrows to their bowstrings. Camulus spoke up at last, staring each villagers in the eyes but finding only the elder able to meet his gaze.

“For your crime against the gods and the Emperor there is only death. Face it with dignity and your kin will be spared,” he explained. The youngest man broke into tears again, and Camulus realized that he was but a boy, grown up quickly and brutally in the shadow of the god of war. “Fear not death Esiolonaians, for we will see you in the Underworld soon enough, and you will have the better seats at the feast in Hades since you arrived before us. Fire!” The hint of a grin touched the lips of the boy as he forgot himself, and then an arrow punched through his throat and nailed him to the wall by the neck. The volley of arrows cut the villagers down like wheat before a scythe. Some were nailed to the wall behind them, others slumped to the ground with arrows sticking out of their chests. The dead were left unburied by the Legatus’ orders, examples for all to see. A soldier versed in religious texts said a prayer for the dead. Hieron, pale and nervous, made a stuttering inquiry as to whether they would pursue the villagers who had fled into the hill country.

“I am done with this place and these people. This miserable hamlet belongs to the Underworld now, and I don’t pity those who have to live here from this day on. Let’s ride.” Camulus replied, and the Telboreans left the village and those within for the crows.

[Johnny Walac]

Cotillion stopped every chest that they brought from the ship. He opened the lid and digged through the gold coins to make sure all was as it should be. Soldiers of the Legion stood guard under the whole operation. Hard men of war that could easily spot trouble. All the chests was brought to Fort Victor. Safe behind locked steel doors. He counted the amount to reach three million gold as it should be. It was more then enough for what he needed it for right now. Three hundred thousand of it was to be a gift to their allies. The rest was for the property he have set his eyes on. The ship was to stay for another night and tonight the town would be full of sailors. The tavern would flow with ale and coins. Cotillion did often partake in such feasts. He was known for quite the drinker. When the last chest was carried away he waved the soldiers along to take a look at the property. The first one was the tailor shop. He marched in with the soldiers behind him and asked to speak with the owner. After a discussion about price Cotillion left with a smile. The tailor would pack up his things and leave the island. Alot richer of course. Cotillion would put the place for sale with alittle price difference. He did the same thing with three forts. One that he bought directly for himself. Another house was bought for the purpose and Titus moved his Alchemist Shop there. He will revive the town and it shall once again flow with coin. He will make it a trade station for ships and a haven for their allies. He bought more property that day before visiting the tavern.

[Johnny Walac]

Thoeak looked upon the wall where the tapestry hung. The Telborean Eagle in golden on a blood-red background, gold edges and the text "Imperator Populusque Telborea". He felt proud just by looking at it. It was good to be back home. Though alot had happened in his absence. The number of criminals in the province had increased dramatically. Due to the lack of patrols, they sneak in to feast upon the rich nature of the Empire. Well atleast that was about to change. It wasn't the first time. The scenery played itself before his eyes. "Get into the portal!" The thunder almost muted Lucius words. Thoeak hesitaded "We are not done here!" "There is nothing we can do, let's go!" Trees were uprooted and flared up to a torch. The storm cleansed the earth and came closer as the portal expanded. Then silence". Almost two years ago. He was glad he never entered the portal. There was so much to do, and Telborea did it afterall with success. The war has been going on for several years and it takes it toll. He isn't the same soldier he was back in Sekaton. Definitely not the same person that lead Reign of Death. So much had happened, and it's far from over. Soon it is time to get back on the offensive.

[Johnny Walac]

He poured himself a cup of wine and looked over the stack of papers. It's gonna be a long night. He took the first one, read it then signed it. Thoeak went through paper after paper. Payments, casualty reports, prisoners, taxes and so on. He leaned back and sipped on the wine. He wasn't use to all this paperwork, life was easier when he was just another soldier back in the Empire. Happy about the change though. They had raised this rotten land called Felucca into the golden age of the Telborean Empire. From a Kingdom to a province in the great Empire. From soldier, to king and now Legatus. He wondered if they will write about the conquering of this barbaric land. Like the campaign against the Cinai and the great battle of Cinastephon, or the conquering of Esiolonai. Atleast the inhabitants of the province will remember the beginning for many generations. What will the story say though? What will they call him? Thoeak the Cruel? The tyrant? He smiled and sipped some more wine. The death toll in this war is extremely high but it doesn't matter. Aslong the gold keeps flowing to Telan they are happy over there. He examined the scars on the arms, from his time in the K'arcan cult. Is he still watching? Of course. Even though he left the cult behind, death is always around him. The Reign of Death has ended though. His own reign as king has also ended. But it's far from over. The reign of Emperor Taurus Victor has just begun.