posted 12-12-09 00:17 AM EDT (US)
So, being all caught up on The Rise of Prussia AAR, I reinstalled and fired up my RTW disk and immediately jumped as the The House of Julii. I started playing (medium difficulty all around) and I realized how awesome the entire game was. It was like Christmas, I had just as much fun now as I had when I first got the game. So, as a tribute to one of my all time favorites, I will be doing a little mini-series dedicated to RTW. 'DitL' stands for 'Day in the Life’; today I will start with the foot soldier. Yes, the regular grunt. The meat of the army. The backbone of the assault. The tip of the spear. Well... You get the point. So without further ado (SP?) I introduce the foot soldier.
Intro:
This is the story of that average grunt... You know... the nameless, faceless meat shield that, someway or another always ends up swinging the tide. Be it clogging chokepoints, routing the enemy, or protecting those archers, everyone has had a victory that was pulled off completely by the foot soldier. This short story will be the story of one such foot soldier for the Julian Army and his attempt to stay alive while fighting the infamous Gaul, his most hated enemy. But fighting the enemy is not always the biggest challenge, for what of the battles raging inside? What of the political battles being fought on the home turf? Sometimes, the soldier must overcome many obstacles just to have a fighting chance.
As soon as the common man makes the plunge into the Roman Army, he is taught discipline. Without discipline, the grand army of Rome would have been no different than the bloodthirsty Gaul he swore to defeat. He relies on the discipline of his brothers-in-arms, just as they rely on his own discipline. He and his comrades are taught to be disciplined in the field of battle and to always obey his superior's orders to the letter.
But what if your superiors are not always in the right? Pride and glory have and will always have a place on the battlefield, but what of when it puts those around you in danger?
The soldier has to always remember one thing, though: His superior isalways right...
Part One:
The battle was raging all around, all hell had broken loose, and the middle of it stood Marius Cario. He was soldier to soldier with his fellow warriors in a large regiment of Hastati. A couple of bands of Gallish soldiers had broken through a weak section of the Roman line and were wrecking havoc on the Roman soldiers. The superior Roman force was in danger of being routed from the battlefield if the Gallish marauders couldn't be held in check.
Of course, Marius thought to himself, If I make it out alive, a rout might not be such a bad thing. Maybe they would finally sack the general
He, like all soldiers in his legion, didn't have a very high opinion of his general. He was a relatively inexperienced, plump, and college educated general. The men constantly complained about him, but no action would be taken for two reasons: 1) the young general had been appointed as a favor. He was from a rich, patrician family that would never see the war, only hear the news from the home front, and 2) He was favored of Caesar himself, of course, that was mostly due to the fact that he was receiving a handsome sum from his family.
But Marius had more pressing matters to attend to, namely the warband of Gauls he was up against. Marius' company had been in the reserve and had been sent up to neutralize the Gallish warband that had opened up the Roman lines. They had charged the Gallish, and inflicted massive casualties to their flank, but the Gallish had quickly turned to meet them. The fighting had quickly disintegrated into small bands of melees.
At the moment, Marius was engaging a small group of barbarians. He stood shoulder to shoulder with his comrades and charged the enemy. The Gauls charged right back, the two parties met head on; two of his fellows went down to Gallish blades. Marius swung his sword in a deadly arc, chopping an enemy's wrist off, and then spun around to swing at another. His blade was deflected, but another of his fellows stabbed his blade deep into the Gaul, the blade dripping crimson. Another Gaul charged Marius; he sidestepped, and then swiped low at his legs. It nicked the barbarian behind the knee, causing him to tumble over. Marius thrust downward, the Gaul's scream suppressed as the sword cut his jugular.
The bitter fighting continued, but finally the Roman forces prevailed and drove the Gauls from the field. The cavalry charged after the fleeing Gallish forces, cutting them down like pigs to the slaughter.
Another victory for the Roman Army.
((More to come tomorrowish. Like usual, all comments/criticism accepted))
Intro:
This is the story of that average grunt... You know... the nameless, faceless meat shield that, someway or another always ends up swinging the tide. Be it clogging chokepoints, routing the enemy, or protecting those archers, everyone has had a victory that was pulled off completely by the foot soldier. This short story will be the story of one such foot soldier for the Julian Army and his attempt to stay alive while fighting the infamous Gaul, his most hated enemy. But fighting the enemy is not always the biggest challenge, for what of the battles raging inside? What of the political battles being fought on the home turf? Sometimes, the soldier must overcome many obstacles just to have a fighting chance.
As soon as the common man makes the plunge into the Roman Army, he is taught discipline. Without discipline, the grand army of Rome would have been no different than the bloodthirsty Gaul he swore to defeat. He relies on the discipline of his brothers-in-arms, just as they rely on his own discipline. He and his comrades are taught to be disciplined in the field of battle and to always obey his superior's orders to the letter.
But what if your superiors are not always in the right? Pride and glory have and will always have a place on the battlefield, but what of when it puts those around you in danger?
The soldier has to always remember one thing, though: His superior is
Part One:
The battle was raging all around, all hell had broken loose, and the middle of it stood Marius Cario. He was soldier to soldier with his fellow warriors in a large regiment of Hastati. A couple of bands of Gallish soldiers had broken through a weak section of the Roman line and were wrecking havoc on the Roman soldiers. The superior Roman force was in danger of being routed from the battlefield if the Gallish marauders couldn't be held in check.
He, like all soldiers in his legion, didn't have a very high opinion of his general. He was a relatively inexperienced, plump, and college educated general. The men constantly complained about him, but no action would be taken for two reasons: 1) the young general had been appointed as a favor. He was from a rich, patrician family that would never see the war, only hear the news from the home front, and 2) He was favored of Caesar himself, of course, that was mostly due to the fact that he was receiving a handsome sum from his family.
But Marius had more pressing matters to attend to, namely the warband of Gauls he was up against. Marius' company had been in the reserve and had been sent up to neutralize the Gallish warband that had opened up the Roman lines. They had charged the Gallish, and inflicted massive casualties to their flank, but the Gallish had quickly turned to meet them. The fighting had quickly disintegrated into small bands of melees.
At the moment, Marius was engaging a small group of barbarians. He stood shoulder to shoulder with his comrades and charged the enemy. The Gauls charged right back, the two parties met head on; two of his fellows went down to Gallish blades. Marius swung his sword in a deadly arc, chopping an enemy's wrist off, and then spun around to swing at another. His blade was deflected, but another of his fellows stabbed his blade deep into the Gaul, the blade dripping crimson. Another Gaul charged Marius; he sidestepped, and then swiped low at his legs. It nicked the barbarian behind the knee, causing him to tumble over. Marius thrust downward, the Gaul's scream suppressed as the sword cut his jugular.
The bitter fighting continued, but finally the Roman forces prevailed and drove the Gauls from the field. The cavalry charged after the fleeing Gallish forces, cutting them down like pigs to the slaughter.
Another victory for the Roman Army.
((More to come tomorrowish. Like usual, all comments/criticism accepted))
