The Eagle Flies! A Julius Caesar Timeline.

Dirk

Banned
Thank you all for the praise and kind comments. Special thanks to halconero, as this appears to be his first ever post in the Discussion part of the Forum, in praise of us!
 

Shapur2

Consider me subscribed! Looks like 'fun on a bun' with Caesar being alive, although I doubt the Parthians will agree!:)
 

Dirk

Banned
Grouchio said:
Slyfox! Dirk! Velasco! Do something!
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Edit: Nah man, I've got some stuff to do. Why don't you write one of your history-book-type things, and formulate some plausible and interesting events?
 
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Emperor Casey

Banned
I will try and get something up tonight. But thanks to my computer it will be an educational read due to it having no pictures :p
 

Emperor Casey

Banned
The Dacian Wars: An Introduction​


Following the failed attempt on his life by some of his dearest and closest friends Julius Caesar set about solidifying his position in Rome. While the perpetrators had been captured through a combination of brute force and collaboration by their fellows, Caesar remained slightly paranoid of those around him. Using the treasuries of the conspirators he raised a fresh legion, the II Sabina, to be stationed outside of Rome. Along with this he placed Marc Antony in charge of the city while Caesar himself was away on campaign in the east. While it was unlikely that anything of note would occur during his absence he knew that Antony would keep his eye on things and that the plebians, his most ardent supports, would rat out anyone plotting against him.

While on his way to Macedonia, where his legions were gathering for the coming campaign, Caesar would follow in his own footsteps. He took a transport across from Brudisium to Illyrium and journeyed to Dyrrhachium and Pharsalus paying his respects to fallen friends and foes alike and making a small offering to Pompey before departing. Ever since the attempt on his life Julius Caesar saw to it that he would always have the favor of the gods both as a means of genuine thankfulness and a way to show the citizens of the Republic that he still valued the traditional ways.

Gaius Octavius was already waiting in Macedonia with a force of 10 legions, mostly veterans of the past civil war with Pompey and another 6 legions on their way to Rome’s Illyrian holdings. The decision to make war on the Dacians was not a difficult one to make as during the civil war the Dacian King Burebista had taken it upon himself to continuously raid Roman outposts in Macedonia and Moesia.

Those raids had also cause the Celts in Moesia and Thracia to move increasingly towards Rome’s borders. The civil war had drained manpower from the area and thus eliminated the possibility for a proper Roman response. What diplomatic envoys were sent were turned away each time by the Dacian King who refused to be heeled by what he saw as Roman meddling in affairs that were not theirs.

Burebista’s actions may at first seem like those of a proud and determined
king of a fearsome people but greater insight sees that his motivation may have been more desperate. Not unlike the Gallic leader Vercingetorix, Burebista had united a series of competing tribes into something resembling a cooperative force. However unlike his fellow the Dacian King was constantly living in a state of fear for his life as the various tribal groups sought nothing more than to return to the old ways and try to come out on top. The idea of the ‘noble savage’ that the Romans and Greeks attributed to them was not far from the truth it would seem. If Julius Caesar was to succeed in his campaign he would need to utilize those tribal qualms and undermine Burebista’s strength where it lay.

Prior to the main campaign numerous diplomatic missions were sent to the Celtic tribes in Thracia and Moesia seeking allies and soldiers. They were met with warm ears as numerous tribes contributed warriors and supplies to the Roman’s in exchange for protection. The most notable of these tribes were the Odrysai, Dii, Serdi, Thyni, and with much reluctance the Apsinthii. The Greek settlements along the coast of the Black Sea had submitted themselves to Burebista’s rule but if they saw the chance to be free would seize the opportunity.

Caesar knew how to work with the locals and it seemed that skill, which had been tried and proven in Gaul continued in the Balkans. Of course there were tribes that outright refused to help the Romans, even if it meant their own destruction at the hands of the Dacians which they saw as a better outcome than submitting themselves to the Roman yoke.

Caesar’s goal for the campaign was simple; take Dacian territory up to the Danube and use the vast river as a natural defensive barrier against further Dacian raids. However if they continued to fight then Caesar would have to push beyond, into the enemy heartland and display to the Dacians and all other Balkan tribes that Rome was dominant and would not stand for anything less than full submission. With the gold and other resources that could be gained from this campaign Caesar would cement his place in Roman history and have the means to fund projects beyond anyone’s wildest dreams.
 

Dirk

Banned
The Dacian Wars: Heavy Metal​

Warm afternoon sunlight glinted blindingly off the two swords as they clanked together and separated again. The taller, bigger man, though by his face he was little more than a boy, was calm and seemed kind. He stabbed forward with the gladius again, and the shorter young man had to leap shuffling to the side to avoid it.

"Edepol!" he cried thinly, panting, and threw the sword down, leaning on his shield quickly before he could fall. Straight wheat-colored hair fell almost to his narrowed eyes and trapped heat around his ears. The sweat ran down his face, neck, arms, his entire body, in runnels.

The other sauntered over to stand next to him, patting his back. "We're only a month in, you'll get better. Everybody does." He looked embarrassed to be doing this, as a child looks at strangers when he's carrying his drunk father home through the streets of Rome. When the panting slowed he said, "There, your wheezing's getting better."

"Caesar..." Gaius Octavius began, and that was all Agrippa needed to hear.

"Caesar brings out the best in us all," Agrippa nodded, happy to be used for the greatness of Rome, and for this brilliant young man. He shielded his eyes and turned, staring at the sun's position in the sky over the backs of the horses hobbled in the grass nearby. "Hmm, it's about time to get back anyway."

Gaius Octavius got his breath back and the two mounted, headed back to camp some three miles away. Caesar, as always scrupulous about his defenses and all possibilities, had built his camp on a cleft of rock, hidden from view from the valley below. The two military tribunes could smell the waste, refuse, tanneries, stables, smithies, and hundreds of fires that accompanied any Roman camp.

Agrippa was most comfortable around military things, to tell the truth. If the work that needed to be done was dirty and bloody and stank of horse shit and dog piss, well, so be it. He preferred the hard life of the march to any woman's bed.

He was also comfortable in silence with him. From the moment Agrippa had first laid eyes on Gaius Octavius, he'd been in thrall. Though his sexual tastes were strictly for soft, feminine women, there was nobody in the world that Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa loved or would love more than Gaius Octavius. He saw the genius, the inner strength, the potential, the cruelty and the kindness, all hidden under a timid, untapped shell. Even some men loyal to Caesar, from slaves up to Marcus Antonius, snickered nastily and mockingly simpered and lisped when he passed by, implying that worst dishonor and violation of the body.

But Agrippa knew the truth. Physically somewhat small and weak, and afflicted by terrible bouts of wheezing, Gaius Octavius had grown up smothered by his mother's worry and thus had no idea yet of how great he was. Agrippa knew that Caesar could bring it out in him.

And it was happening. Only a month ago the poor boy had started wheezing as soon as they'd ridden out to the secluded vale, nervous to even start developing those muscles. But Agrippa's relentlessness and Caesar's subtle approval had shifted his thoughts from worry for his health to worry for his future. Today's sacrifice was tomorrow's gain, and Gaius Octavius was learning it well.

At first Agrippa had knocked around some of the men mocking his hero. "Why?" he'd asked, bewildered, when ordered to stop.

"Think about this, Marcus," he'd said, eyes pained. "A man whose honor is defended by others is little better than a woman. That's why Caesar himself never stepped in, though it can't have escaped his attention. It only makes it worse for me, only in secret, or out of your hearing." He stared up at the sagging fabric of the tent before continuing, "I'll have to do this myself. I'll get stronger, by Venus's blood in my veins, and then they'll see who has honor and who doesn't."

Agrippa had almost cried, then, at the courage and strength there. But the logic was impeccable. "Physical strength isn't everything!"

Gaius's head swiveled down to look at him, nodding. "No, it isn't, but in the army it is."

Now, thinking back on this reason for their daily training, Agrippa realized how much smarter Gaius was with people than he. Agrippa knew what the men of the legions, as a mass, needed and wanted to do and have, and how to use them on the battlefield, but as far as politics and friends and public image were concerned, he was far behind. Leave that for Maecenas and Salvidienus Rufus, Agrippa would have the legate's chair!

Now, as they mounted the hill and the camp's gate came into view, Agrippa turned with a sudden thought to look at him. "What if Caesar had died?"

Gaius Octavius's eyes narrowed in thought rather than suspicion. There was no question of the where or when. "I...suppose...I'd have waited here for more information. Where Antonius and Dolabella are, certainly, and whether the conspirators have any legions." He gave a brief laugh, lilting almost like a child's. You'll have to fix that, my friend, thought Agrippa. "I guess, with ten veteran legions here and Caesar's friends commanding and serving in them, I'm in a cozy position."

Agrippa nodded. "You wouldn't try anything...more? More daring?"

"Why would I risk it?" said Gaius Octavius blankly. Agrippa shrugged, riding on in silence, but thought that Caesar's death would've shocked his friend into some greater action. He just didn't know it yet.

But why think so morbidly? Caesar was alive, all was well, and Dacia was ready to spread her legs open for Rome's forceful hands.


The following morning the bugles sounded early and men were prodded and jostled by irate (or irate-seeming) centurions. They'd been told days ago what to expect, but of course it was a soldier's right to complain, and many were the curses delivered to smiling centurions who responded with a slap or a cold shoulder, depending on temperament.

The men, now fully awake, filed smoothly to line the Via Praetoria as the cool morning sun of Illyricum left the dew on the grass and cast the them in the shadow of Caesar's tent, a palace compared to the legionaries' tents.

King Bregorix of the Celegeri rode into camp soon after proper sunrise, preceded by four Roman horsemen magnificently decorated and shining. He wore a coat and trousers of linen and wool not at all matched for color. Purple and green clashed with yellow and blue in stripes, checkered patterns, and layers. His boots were of some soft leather and his long, bare hair and mustache were carefully plaited for this meeting with the Roman Dictator. Silver brooches, necklaces, bracelets, and a massive torc adorned his well built body, and his bare forearms were wicked with scars.

Gauls, thought Caesar for the thousandth time, have no armchair generals. And once again he thought bitterly of Metellus Scipio and Ahenobarbus and the Claudii Marcelli and those others who'd driven Rome to civil war. Armchair generals, all of them. Ironic, that he should wish at this moment that he'd been a Gaul.

Caesar stood in front of his big tent, seeing with amusement that this Bregorix was daunted as he moved from the sunlight into the long morning shadow of Caesar's tent. As Caesar had planned. As he had planned the rows and rows of identical, glittering warriors to intimidate. Despite Bregorix's mustache he looked quite young. He could be unsure of himself. He had with him an old man with a white beard brushing an empty gut on a horse superior to his own. The druid, Cadameas.

Bregorix's eyes flicked left and right, seeing no threat but unable to believe that these Romans came in peace. The laws of his people and the messengers' terms, though from Romans any message seemed a demand, stated that he should meet Caesar at his camp when defeated. Since there was no point for his poor, dwindling tribe to be destroyed through obstinacy, he'd decided to play by Rome's rules.

Once greeted and in the great tent, Bregorix and Cadameas wasted no time staring with wonder at Roman wealth and style. They knew they'd look like yokels doing that, so they seated themselves in chairs that turned out to be deceptively comfortable. Caesar himself sat rigid on the backless ivory curule chair, back straight, head up, right foot in front of the left. Expectant, demanding, a god in his prime.

"Leave," Caesar said in Latin, and before Bregorix could look to Cadameas for a translation every other Roman in the tent turned and strode out purposefully, leaving Caesar alone with his two guests. "This is a peaceful meeting, hopefully of friends." He did not smile, for excessive flattery or deception was as despised by the Gauls as it was by the Romans.

"I have never seen you before, Gaius Julius, so you are welcome, though not as a friend," said Bregorix.

Cadameas translated this as, "I have never seen you before, Gaius Julius, so you are welcome, though not as a friend yet." Though he'd been expecting this, Caesar was nonetheless amused. So Old Grandfather is wise counsel for...for Vercingetorix Number II, we'll call the kid. The language spoken by the Celegeri was, of course, similar enough to Arvernian and Aeduan that Caesar had learned its peculiarities in the space of two days. Not that Caesar would let this on yet.

"Please call me Caesar. I come for Burebista, King of Dacia to the north. He marched through your lands and took some of your wealth off with him."

"Not that we had much wealth to be taken," said Bregorix glumly, then amended clumsily when Cadameas shook his head minutely, "And you march through our lands, what is the difference?"

"Indeed he did, the scum," said Cadameas glumly in Latin, then hurriedly, "And you march through our lands, what different can you offer?"

Caesar's face darkened and the silver eyes, a color the Celegeri knew well, for it was mined by the ton in their former lands, flashed dangerously. "When I march in peace, when I say that I march in peace, I am taken by my word! Any soldier of mine who carries off a Celegeri woman or pig or sack of grain will be sewn into a sack of snakes and thrown into the river."

Cadameas's bushy white eyebrows flew up--oh, how like Gaius Marius's those eyebrows were! Caesar's heart ached for one terrible moment--and he translated with surprise to Bregorix word for word what Caesar had said.

"We have heard of your deeds in what you call Gaul. The battles, the atrocities. Perhaps you will do the same here?"

Caesar nodded briskly, not bothering to mask the truth whatsoever. "I shall. I promise it by all the Gods of my forefathers, and by the blood of Venus in my veins. I shall crush all who stand against me in my pursuit of two-faced Burebista."

"Honesty, brutal honesty," muttered Bregorix with surprise, not bitterness, to Cadameas. The old man didn't answer, and Bregorix turned to look Caesar in the eyes. "Yet again I ask, what can you offer us? Our pride demands that we fight any intruder if he is not an ally."

"Yet again I ask, what can you offer us? Our pride demands that we fight any intruder if he is not an ally. Just as we fought Burebista," Cadameas translated, and Caesar had to stifle a chuckle at how much young Bregorix had to learn.

"Then become my Ally. I am the Dictator, and I can and will name you Friend and Ally of the Roman People at any time. I need good friends to trust with my supply lines and my line of retreat, though I doubt I'll have to use the latter." Caesar grinned winningly, and Cadameas saw all the intelligence and confidence there.

"I believe you," he said before translating for Bregorix.

Bregorix scoffed and answered, with Cadameas translating, "As a woman becomes her husband's ally, Caesar. Like any strong people we value our pride over our lives, and if it comes to war between us, then it will. Go around or go not at all."

Caesar stared into Bregorix's eyes, not Cadameas's, as this was said, and he saw the fierceness there. Oh, but he speaks well when he's all riled up! I do want him. Light brown and hard as rocks, those eyes stared into Caesar's, and for a wonder didn't turn away.

I definitely want him as an ally. "I do not offer you a share in the glory and a job minding my trail for nothing, King Bregorix. You will fight with me, at my side as an equal ally, and I will ensure that the land taken by the Tricornenses and more will be reconquered by you and for you. Rich grazing and growing land, and Triconrenensian women to breed Celegeri sons. Your sons will be kings along the Danubius."

And the ascendant destiny of the Celegeri was sealed that morning, with that speech. Caesar knew that he'd won them over utterly, with both logic and emotion. They would keep their pride, and not be destroyed. In fact, they would expand beyond their dreams. But of course, Caesar had a talent for making dreams beyond dreams come true.

Caesar escorted the two, king and druid, out of the tent and whispered slyly to Cadameas in the Celegeri dialect as if born to it, "You are wise, keep him safe."

Cadameas had to stifle a laugh, and smiled redly, half-sardonic and half-delighted. "I had a feeling," he said in Latin, and mounted his horse, and rode off between the silver rows of unmoving Roman men.
 
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Zulfurium

Zulfurium

Loved the update, I love your characterization of Ceasar and the part with Vespasian and Octavian were great as well.
 

Emperor Casey

Banned
The 10th Legion: Caesar’s Legion​

The 10th Legion, one of the most successful and legendary armies of the Republic. When Gaius Julius Caesar arrived in Hispania as governor of Hispania Ulterior in 61 BC he decided that he had to make his mark. In the western area of the province many tribes still failed to recognize Rome’s rule and so far no serious measure had been made to route them out and bring them to heel.
Caesar already had a force of two legions at his disposal, the 8th and the 9th, both of which had been raised by Gnaeus Pompeius four years previously. A third legion was needed for Caesar’s planned campaign and so sent out recruiting officers in earnest. So it was in 61 BC that Legio X Equestris was born, after its enlistment in March the emblem of the bull was chosen as its own.

These Spaniards showed themselves to be nothing less that exemplary as it tore through their tribal brethren. The summer campaign saw the tribes defeated and submit themselves to Rome. A true accomplishment in the eyes of the Republic.

As the Gallic wars began in the summer of 58 BC the legion would see itself on the brunt of the offensive action. Having dealt defeats to the Helvetii at the battles of Arar and Bibracte the 10th had prevented the barbarian migration.

The 10th earned its nickname during a negotiation with the Suebian King Ariovistus, during which Caesar, not trusting his Aedian cavalry had his own men mount up. The soldiers joked that Caesar had not only kept his promise to make them foot guards but exceeded and made them equestrians.

In a battle against the Nervii the legion would not only seize the enemy encampment but save two of its fellow legions from defeat with a last minute downhill charge. They trapped and slaughtered their foes with ruthless efficiency. They would not be present to witness the defeat of Vercingetorix at Alesia due to being transferred from Caesar’s command, much to his personal annoyance, to the command of Publius Crassus.

Leading a self-envisioned invasion of Parthia, Crassus, along with the 10th legion would be defeated at the battle of Carhae in 53 BC and lose its Aquila, a great point of shame for any Roman legion. The survivors would be led back to Roman territory where they would recuperate. The legion would have its eagle returned but that did little to dampen the fact it had been taken in the first place.

In 45 BC the legion would be disbanded and would receive its final payment of fresh land in the Narbonne in southern Gaul. After years of dutiful service the legionnaires would still serve, this time a citizen protectors and deliverers of Roman culture to the unruly barbarians.

Not too much longer Caesar would recreate the 10th Legion for his planned invasion of Dacia and per army regulation Centurions from the previous deployment were obligated to return to service; of which many did proudly answer the call. They, along with 5 other legions would held to the Illyirian coast to lead the masterstroke of Caesar’s Dacian campaign.
 

Emperor Casey

Banned
Grouchio said:
Casey you might want to use AUC from now on. Christ isn't coming ITTL.

Also when can we update again?
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Christ is always coming my friend :)

I can write something on the next stage of the campaign but I feel like either slyderfox or Dirk should post something
 
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