Chapter 1: Dreams are Made, Winding Through My Head
“Shapur… Shapur my son, I ask of thee to once again free my flock.”
It was that same ethereal voice again that Shapur had been hearing louder and louder in his dreams, it was a powerful but still very gentle voice and it reminded the monarch of the archery lessons with his father Ardashir, where his simples mistakes were gently corrected until he had gotten it right where upon would proudly smile at him and himself feel like he had the sun in his belly from seeing his father beam at him like that.
So the fact the voice of such a stranger could cause such a feeling in him was already enough cause for some alarm.
But the interesting thing this time was that unlike the other dreams, he could actually move around and feel his body, even better that he now had something to look at instead of a formless void, the scenario was a easy to recognize well: the parts of upper Mesopotamia where Eranshahr and the Empire of the Romans met and where he was leading his troops, or rather his troops and that of his vassals who were interested in the quick booty that looting Syria had brought[1], the plains in their wild and vast expanses that were simply perfect for his cavalry to essentially decimate their opponents and indeed, his armies and that of his father had already inflicted severe defeats on them in this exact place and he would do so again.[2]
Yet instead of just looking ahead into the endless plains, he found himself drawn towards a new visage: the city of Urhai[3] itself, with its mighty walls and access to fresh water from the rivers made it nearly unassailable… But it had been done before and Shapur knew he could do it, he just needed to find a way to undermine it and finally would Armenia and Adiabene be safe from severe Roman incursions.
“Do not attack if your heart is wavering.” There was that voice again as Shapur was finally able to see the owner of such soothing voice: it was a man dressed in what, if he was going to be honest made him look like a beggar: the clothes were seemingly old and well used, a chitōn with only one piece of cloth which contrasted heavily with Shapur’s own well crafted cloth, especially the tallit that had definitely seen better days and sandals that were seasoned in the way only a pair belonging to a wanderer could. Even his appearance didn’t inspire much as Shapur saw his short curly hair alongside a beard that while large was nowhere near size, length or care to his own magnificent one, it truly was like a King of Kings meeting with a regular man.
But the thing that truly made him feel unease was the aura around the man, it was powerful but soothing, loving but imposing, it once again reminded Shapur of being in his father’s arms, of being held by him with all his musculature and physique that made him intimidating most of the time yet the way his face simply shone like the sun whenever he picked up his son made all of that irrelevant in the face of his love. It was that sort of energy that truly gave him pause as he did not stop to face him but merely pointed to the sky and saw a shining star that flew across towards the southwest, more importantly however was the symbol he saw and despite not recognizing it, he was somehow able to read it… Who was Yeshu?
“Carve it on the shields of thy soldiers and thou shall be victorious like you never were before.” As the man pointed up to the sky, Shapur could only notice one last detail before he felt himself wake up: the hands of the man were pierced in such a forceful manner it had made large holes in the middle of them.
He woke up with a startle as he felt the sweat sticking to his body, both because of the dream that was already slipping away from his memories and due to the heat of Mesopotamia, even during the first few sun rays that spooked away the cold of the night to bring down the oppressiveness of its heat, yet as he put on his clothes and armor there was one vivid thing he kept remembering: the inscriptions that were seemingly carved into his brain as not matter what activity he found himself in, those words kept coming back.
“Carve it on the shields of thy soldiers and thou shall be victorious like you never were before.”
He had found Arshab, a Wuzurgan of the Karen clan if he recalled correctly, much like his other men of the high nobility, his hair and beard were as well taken care of as his quality clothes and his shiny armor, yet he threw an easy smile towards his Shahanshah as he saw him approach.
“Your highness, to what do I owe the honor?” Arshab bowed deeply as he saw the Shah approach, he was not particularly familiar with the son of Ardashir but he was his vassal and a noble and therefore he had a duty to him in the same way his men had towards him, even so he was still slightly baffled when he was presented with white paint, loads of it as he saw the men of the supply train bringing them over.
“Tell your men to paint this on their shields, I have already spoken with Parham and I am looking for Borbak so that he will do the same, we will need it for our next battle.”[4] With those commands, Shapur was off and leaving Arshab all alone as he looked over his equally confused men before he regained his composure and went into Noble Leader mode.
“Your heard your Shah! Start painting!” Arshab had no particular idea who in blazes Isho was, perhaps a symbol of luck from Pars? A shout of victory from one of the many nomadic infantry of the realm? Truly he did not know but he had no reason not to do it… Plus it could be used later as leverage to get some favors from the Shah, something that put a more devious smile in his tanned face as he got to painting faster.
Soon, all of the camp would be celebrating such a symbol.
So, I have foolishly decided to start another TL while I already have one ongoing, don't worry for the fans of l'Antarctique, that story isn't abandoned and I am already working on the new chapter but lately I have been doing some reading on Persia that is very detailed(on a Paradox game forum of all places) and I just got it into my mind and I always wanted to do this scenario so I cranked this up last night before bed, a proper chapter will come soon. Also, I know, the dialogue and character stuff is shit but I'm gonna try and have a bit of them and breath some personality into the TL.
This TL is very much inspired by A Light Shines East: The World of a Christian Persia from @Merovingian as well as The Darling of the World - A Persian TL by @Vinization, not to mention The Two Eyes of the World: A bigger Sassanid Persia by @Collondi who was thank to them and their TL that was I was able to find the Paradox forum in the first place that grew my interest and desire to make this TL in the first place.
[1]: One of the things mentioned in Collondi's TL but I feel that is important to put it in here as well, Iran didn't have the same centralized army that Rome had with it's citizen levies and such, instead the armies the Persians fielded were a mixture of the King's own army(which The Immortals were part of) mixed with the armies of the nobles under him, which were always the cavalry and the cream of the crop of their armies, alongside some levies of light infantry that were essentially fodder and things like horse archers, extra cavalry and heavy infantry that came from the nomadic groups within Iran or were provided by subordinate kingdoms and peoples(Turks, Armenians, Iberians, Arabs, etc.) or were outright mercenaries. This information is key to know as the Shah had a delivery table to return the armies after a certain amount of time as they had their lands to look after and didn't exactly feel like conquering places that would only benefit the King... Unless there was loot of course, in that case they were more compliant.
[2]: True from OTL as Ardashir and Shapur both had inflicted severe losses on the Romans they had fought there, it was so bad the Romans actually thought the place cursed, no wonder given it was also the place where Crassius had been decimated by the Parthians a few centuries before.
[3]: Persian name for Edessa and the POD for the next chapter.
[4]:I couldn't resist making it a ref to the Battle of Milvian Bridge and Constantine's vision
It was that same ethereal voice again that Shapur had been hearing louder and louder in his dreams, it was a powerful but still very gentle voice and it reminded the monarch of the archery lessons with his father Ardashir, where his simples mistakes were gently corrected until he had gotten it right where upon would proudly smile at him and himself feel like he had the sun in his belly from seeing his father beam at him like that.
So the fact the voice of such a stranger could cause such a feeling in him was already enough cause for some alarm.
But the interesting thing this time was that unlike the other dreams, he could actually move around and feel his body, even better that he now had something to look at instead of a formless void, the scenario was a easy to recognize well: the parts of upper Mesopotamia where Eranshahr and the Empire of the Romans met and where he was leading his troops, or rather his troops and that of his vassals who were interested in the quick booty that looting Syria had brought[1], the plains in their wild and vast expanses that were simply perfect for his cavalry to essentially decimate their opponents and indeed, his armies and that of his father had already inflicted severe defeats on them in this exact place and he would do so again.[2]
Yet instead of just looking ahead into the endless plains, he found himself drawn towards a new visage: the city of Urhai[3] itself, with its mighty walls and access to fresh water from the rivers made it nearly unassailable… But it had been done before and Shapur knew he could do it, he just needed to find a way to undermine it and finally would Armenia and Adiabene be safe from severe Roman incursions.
“Do not attack if your heart is wavering.” There was that voice again as Shapur was finally able to see the owner of such soothing voice: it was a man dressed in what, if he was going to be honest made him look like a beggar: the clothes were seemingly old and well used, a chitōn with only one piece of cloth which contrasted heavily with Shapur’s own well crafted cloth, especially the tallit that had definitely seen better days and sandals that were seasoned in the way only a pair belonging to a wanderer could. Even his appearance didn’t inspire much as Shapur saw his short curly hair alongside a beard that while large was nowhere near size, length or care to his own magnificent one, it truly was like a King of Kings meeting with a regular man.
But the thing that truly made him feel unease was the aura around the man, it was powerful but soothing, loving but imposing, it once again reminded Shapur of being in his father’s arms, of being held by him with all his musculature and physique that made him intimidating most of the time yet the way his face simply shone like the sun whenever he picked up his son made all of that irrelevant in the face of his love. It was that sort of energy that truly gave him pause as he did not stop to face him but merely pointed to the sky and saw a shining star that flew across towards the southwest, more importantly however was the symbol he saw and despite not recognizing it, he was somehow able to read it… Who was Yeshu?
“Carve it on the shields of thy soldiers and thou shall be victorious like you never were before.” As the man pointed up to the sky, Shapur could only notice one last detail before he felt himself wake up: the hands of the man were pierced in such a forceful manner it had made large holes in the middle of them.
He woke up with a startle as he felt the sweat sticking to his body, both because of the dream that was already slipping away from his memories and due to the heat of Mesopotamia, even during the first few sun rays that spooked away the cold of the night to bring down the oppressiveness of its heat, yet as he put on his clothes and armor there was one vivid thing he kept remembering: the inscriptions that were seemingly carved into his brain as not matter what activity he found himself in, those words kept coming back.
“Carve it on the shields of thy soldiers and thou shall be victorious like you never were before.”
He had found Arshab, a Wuzurgan of the Karen clan if he recalled correctly, much like his other men of the high nobility, his hair and beard were as well taken care of as his quality clothes and his shiny armor, yet he threw an easy smile towards his Shahanshah as he saw him approach.
“Your highness, to what do I owe the honor?” Arshab bowed deeply as he saw the Shah approach, he was not particularly familiar with the son of Ardashir but he was his vassal and a noble and therefore he had a duty to him in the same way his men had towards him, even so he was still slightly baffled when he was presented with white paint, loads of it as he saw the men of the supply train bringing them over.
“Tell your men to paint this on their shields, I have already spoken with Parham and I am looking for Borbak so that he will do the same, we will need it for our next battle.”[4] With those commands, Shapur was off and leaving Arshab all alone as he looked over his equally confused men before he regained his composure and went into Noble Leader mode.
“Your heard your Shah! Start painting!” Arshab had no particular idea who in blazes Isho was, perhaps a symbol of luck from Pars? A shout of victory from one of the many nomadic infantry of the realm? Truly he did not know but he had no reason not to do it… Plus it could be used later as leverage to get some favors from the Shah, something that put a more devious smile in his tanned face as he got to painting faster.
Soon, all of the camp would be celebrating such a symbol.
So, I have foolishly decided to start another TL while I already have one ongoing, don't worry for the fans of l'Antarctique, that story isn't abandoned and I am already working on the new chapter but lately I have been doing some reading on Persia that is very detailed(on a Paradox game forum of all places) and I just got it into my mind and I always wanted to do this scenario so I cranked this up last night before bed, a proper chapter will come soon. Also, I know, the dialogue and character stuff is shit but I'm gonna try and have a bit of them and breath some personality into the TL.
This TL is very much inspired by A Light Shines East: The World of a Christian Persia from @Merovingian as well as The Darling of the World - A Persian TL by @Vinization, not to mention The Two Eyes of the World: A bigger Sassanid Persia by @Collondi who was thank to them and their TL that was I was able to find the Paradox forum in the first place that grew my interest and desire to make this TL in the first place.
[1]: One of the things mentioned in Collondi's TL but I feel that is important to put it in here as well, Iran didn't have the same centralized army that Rome had with it's citizen levies and such, instead the armies the Persians fielded were a mixture of the King's own army(which The Immortals were part of) mixed with the armies of the nobles under him, which were always the cavalry and the cream of the crop of their armies, alongside some levies of light infantry that were essentially fodder and things like horse archers, extra cavalry and heavy infantry that came from the nomadic groups within Iran or were provided by subordinate kingdoms and peoples(Turks, Armenians, Iberians, Arabs, etc.) or were outright mercenaries. This information is key to know as the Shah had a delivery table to return the armies after a certain amount of time as they had their lands to look after and didn't exactly feel like conquering places that would only benefit the King... Unless there was loot of course, in that case they were more compliant.
[2]: True from OTL as Ardashir and Shapur both had inflicted severe losses on the Romans they had fought there, it was so bad the Romans actually thought the place cursed, no wonder given it was also the place where Crassius had been decimated by the Parthians a few centuries before.
[3]: Persian name for Edessa and the POD for the next chapter.
[4]:I couldn't resist making it a ref to the Battle of Milvian Bridge and Constantine's vision