Look forward to it!

very good. i like how you did the wrapup of your last story since id wasnt able to finish it.

Chapter I: The Beginnings

Seleucus looked around the estate, which he worked. It was a peaceful life, the landlord was a fair and just man and he provided Seleucus with a house to live in and clothes to wear, not to mention food to eat! He had been working here for a year. The landlord would often tell him that in all his years he had never seen a better and more dedicated man. That’s how Seleucus lived. Once he joined a cause he stuck with it. A Greeks honor many called it. Whatever it was he lived by it and it served him well. Seleucus was a well built man of average height and was muscular, he had jet-black hair and a scar on his temple but he could not recall where he got it. His icy blue eyes were considered by many to be his best feature.

“Seleucus! Seleucus! My father wants you!” Called Dionysus, the landlord’s daughter. Seleucus couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she looked as she ran towards him. He admired how her long blond hair seemed to float on the wind, how her shiny, marble green eyes glimmered in the light of the late afternoon sun, and how her statue perfect body moved with every step. She had the body of a goddess. “Seleucus are you listening to me? You better not be daydreaming... wait, are you dreaming about me? Why Seleucus I’m flattered!”

Seleucus quickly snapped back to reality and began stutter, “Me? Daydreaming? Most certainly not! Especially not about you Dionysus, your far to beautiful for a simple peasant like me to take a fancy to!”

“Oh Seleucus stop joking like that I see that twinkle in your eye”. She said smugly.

“What twinkle? I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about!” Seleucus exclaimed.

“Whatever. My father needs you, make hast it is urgent”. Just as Seleucus turned to leave Dionysus slapped him on the ass. "Hey!" He shouted.
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In the grand Palace of the Kings in Antioch Emperor Seleuces V Philotas Nicator sat on his grand throne overlooking the maps of his empire. He was an old man, in his early 60’s with much gray and white hair covering his head. He wasn’t a very large man and was quit. He preferred reading and writing poetry to anything else. The year was 82 C.E. for 280 years the Seleucid Empire had been almost constantly at peace save for the invasion of the Blue-Sythians 20 years earlier. Since the death of Antiochus III the Great no ruler had ever came close to achieving what he had. Philotas Nicator wanted to be great, he wanted to be remembered for exploits but he could not even begin to live up to Antiochus’s legend. He stared longingly at the portrait of his wife.

“Olympia you were the apple of my life yet you of all people were taken from me. If it weren’t for you I might not even be here today”. He smiled as he recalled memories long past. 21 years ago he had to fight for the crown from his twin brother Arrhidaeus for control of the throne. To this day he new that his brother had outmatched him but Olympia had been there for him she told him what to do and what to say to win the senates support. And it had worked. She had also directed him during the Invasion of the Blue-Sythians a year later. Then she left him. Murdered by an unknown assailant in their bedroom. The thought of her mutilated body sent a shiver down his spine as he fought to hold back his tears.

“My Emperor! Supreme Military Diadochi General Molon the Infantryman has arrived”.

Molon was near the Emperor's age being in his late 50’s. A bald, muscular man he enforced strict discipline in the military. He was a Thracian noble who had a long history of successful battles. In one campaign while leading a small army of Thracian Bastarnae and Falxmen he surprised and destroyed a much larger rebel army and hence force became known as “the Infantryman”.

“High King it is as we suspected, Rome is building up its military. Apparently they have decided they want to equal us in the size of there army. They already have nearly 1000000 men under arms and more are swelling its ranks each day but most are semi-professional. And things aren’t going well in the east. The Persians are being caught up in the sweep of nationalistic feelings and if they are not monitored closely I fear they might declare independence. They are strong enough and the family of Ardashir II is growing in political power and the Persian peoples idolize him. If he gains any more power he will attempt a break off.”

Molon looked over at a map hanging on the wall. “If the Persian break from us about half of the empire will be gone along with more than a third of the population”. Molon said it to himself. There was no need to say it aloud, for Philotas Nicator was well aware of this.

“Keep a close eye on him and if he tries to split the empire... kill him”. The King said after a moment of thought. “You are dismissed my friend”. Molon promptly bowed as he left the room.

“The Empire is not as strong as it used to be. It is threatened by division, and the growing power of Rome is a threat I can no longer ignore”. Philotas Nicator said aloud. “But how to save it? If only you were alive Olympia you would know what to do”.
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Molon was restless. The Emperor was becoming weaker everyday. He felt the throne was wasted on the man but he had to serve him. He would often dream of a day when a strong Emperor would come. But it seemed those days were yet to come.

“I should talk with Craterus”. He said to himself.

Craterus was Philotas Nicator’s son and heir to the throne. Molon spent much time with the boy to try and teach him how to handle the military so he would be prepared for his eventual ruling. Craterus showed some potential yet Molon remained skeptical. He still felt there where better options out there. Yet he had become friends with the boy recently.

Upon reaching Craterus’s room he knocked at the door hoping he was there.

“Come in” a voice from inside called.

“Good he’s here”. Molon quickly opened the door and stepped inside. Craterus lived like a Spartan. What little furniture he owned was of little luxury, it made Molon proud. “My lord I have come to talk with you” Molon told the prince.

“Good thing you’re here! I wanted to ask you about how Antiochus the Great saved the empire and conquered Egypt!” Craterus said excitedly.

“Very well I shall tell the tall of Antiochus’s campaigns against Egypt and the rebels!"

“Antiochus III inherited a disorganized state". He began. "Not only had Asia Minor become detached, but the further eastern provinces had broken away, Bactria under the Greek Diodotus of Bactria, and Parthia under the nomad chieftain Arsaces. Soon after Antiochus's accession, Media and Persis revolted under their governors, the brothers Molon and Alexander". Molon stopped for a moment to let all of this sink in. Then he began again. "The young king, under the baneful influence of the minister Hermeias, authorized an attack on Judea instead of going in person to face the rebels. The attack on Judea proved a fiasco, and the generals sent against Molon and Alexander met with disaster. Only in Asia Minor, where the king's cousin, the able Achaeus represented the Seleucid cause, did its prestige recover, driving the Pergamene power back to its earlier limits. In 221 Antiochus at last went east, and the rebellion of Molon and Alexander collapsed. The submission of Lesser Media, which had asserted its independence under Artabazanes, followed. Antiochus rid himself of Hermeias by assassination and returned to Syria in 220". He stopped for a seconded to study Craterus's face; he was in awe.

"Meanwhile Achaeus himself had revolted and assumed the title of king in Anatolia. Since, however, his power was not well enough grounded to allow of his attacking Syria, Antiochus considered that he might leave Achaeus for the present and renew his attempt on Judea. The campaigns of 219 and 218 carried the Seleucid armies almost to the confines of Egypt, but in 217 Ptolemy IV confronted Antiochus at the battle of Raphia and inflicted a defeat upon him which nullified all Antiochus's successes and compelled him to withdraw north of the Lebanon". Molon stopped again; the boy was a bit disappointed to hear about his hero getting beaten. "In 216 Antiochus went north to deal with Achaeus, and had by 214 driven him from the field into Sardis. Antiochus contrived to get possession of the person of Achaeus, but the citadel held out until 213 under Achaeus' widow Laodice and then surrendered".

Molon looked at Craterus's face again. It had brightened. "Having thus recovered the central part of Asia Minor Antiochus turned to recover the outlying provinces of the north and east. He obliged Xerxes of Armenia to acknowledge his supremacy in 212. In 209 Antiochus invaded Parthia, occupied the capital Hecatompylus and pushed forward into Hyrcania. The Parthian king Arsaces II apparently successfully sued for peace. 209 saw Antiochus in Bactria, where another Greek, Euthydemus, had supplanted the original rebel. Antiochus again met with success. After sustaining a famous siege in his capital Bactra, Euthydemus obtained an honorable peace by which Antiochus promised Euthydemus' son Demetrius the hand of one of his daughters. Antiochus next, following in the steps of Alexander, crossed into the Kabul valley, received the homage of the Indian king Sophagasenus and returned west by way of Seistan and Kerman in the years 206/5. From Seleucia on the Tigris he led a short expedition down the Persian Gulf against the Gerrhaeans of the Arabian coast in 205/4. Antiochus had restored the Seleucid Empire in the east, and the achievement brought him the title of "the Great King." In 205/4 the infant Ptolemy V Epiphanes succeeded to the Egyptian throne, and Antiochus concluded a secret pact with Philip V of Macedon for the partition of the Ptolemaic possessions in 203".

"Once more Antiochus attacked Judea, and by 199 he had taken possession of it before the Aetolian, Scopas, recovered it for Ptolemy. But that recovery proved brief, for in 198 BC Antiochus defeated Scopas at the Battle of Panium, near the sources of the Jordan, a battle, which marks the end of Ptolemaic rule in Judea. After this Antiochus Invaded the Gaza strip and obliterated the Egyptian army there. He wasted no time in taking advantage of the turmoil Egypt was now in and invaded Egypt itself. After seizing Alexandria, Egypt surrendered”.

“Is this story satisfactory?” Molon asked the young prince as he finished.

“It is! But how did he seize Macedon and Greece?”

“Another story for another time my boy” Molon smiled. “He will be a great ruler one day” he thought to himself as he left the room.
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Seleucus was running to the landlord’s office. “I had better pick up the pace or I will be late,” he thought to himself. The landlord was a nice man but he could be brutal at times. Seleucus began running as fast as he could soon he had reached the house. It was a large building, very well built and ornate. He ran past the guards and into the house. He then turned left and proceeded down the hall until he got to the landlords office. He burst threw the door yelling, “Am I late?”

“No Seleuces your right on time. Please sit down and have some wine," The landlord, whose name is Demetrius, extended a goblet full of wine. Seleucus took it from him and began to drink deeply. “Seleucus you are a great worker and very dedicated to your job. But I’ve begun to notice some changes in you”, Seleuces continued to drink while the landlord talked, nodding slightly showing he understood. “I’ve noticed you have an eye for my daughter, Dionysus”.

Pffffffffffffft! Seleucus sprayed wine out of his mouth as the landlord said this. “Nice Seleuces, very nice. No more wine for you” he said sternly. But he wasn’t really mad, for he had expected it.

“I’m sorry milord...”

“No need to apologize it was an accident”.

“Milord I have to say I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have no such feelings for your daughter...” He was cut off.

“Seleucus don’t deny it. You love her and she loves you. I can tell. She’s grown into a fine young woman and you’re a noble and honorable man. You two are a perfect match. And since I have no male children you are the best candidate to take my place here when I die”.

The landlord looked longingly at the portrait of his dead son, Antipater, on the wall. “Did I ever tell you how my son died?” He suddenly said. The question surprised Seleucus.

“No, no I don’t believe you have”

“Well let me tell you. It all began 20 years ago, shortly before you were born, during this time both my son and me were Hetairoi’s”. Seleucus’s jaw dropped when he heard this, his landlord had been a Companion or “Hetairoi?” “Yes Seleucus believe or not I was one and so was my son. But during that year, oh so long ago, the Blue-Sythians invaded the empire. To respond to this new threat we had to mobilize the largest force of Hetairoi ever seen, 20000 of them, never before had such a force been mobilized. Not even during the Great Mediterranean War. Kataphractoi and Agema cavalry units were simply to heavily armored to fight and engage the swift Blue-Sythians, and the Ippko to lightly armored. Only the Hetairoi were capable of this. We assembled at the Kur River at the empires northern boundary. For three day’s we marched north to meet the Blue Sythians until finally we found them. 30000 horsemen ready to fight us...
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“Antipater are you ready son?" asked Demetrius.

“Yes father I’m ready but I must admit I’m afraid”, I chuckled at this, for my son had begged me to be taken to battle.

“Do not be afraid, remember all that you have been taught and you shall be fine”. I said looking down upon my son, as he got ready to mount his horse. “Now lets bring glory to the Empire!” and with we rode to there positions in the battle line. The Hetairoi commander, Bysius of Macedon, rode forth in front of the men to give his speech.

“Brave men of Seleucia you are the betters out here today! Standing before you are the fabled Blue-Sythians, most powerful of all Sythians, but I believe we are stronger! We are the Heirs to the Hetairoi that centuries ago rode with Alexander from Macedon to Persia to India and back again! In the Great Mediterranean War are forefathers countless times defeated even the best cavalry Rome had to send against them. Now I ask of all of you to fight next to me today and if you remember your training you will all come home alive!” The roaring cheer that arose out of the army nearly deafened me. But I didn’t care; it was an awe-inspiring moment.

The Blue-Sythians returned the cheer with a wild, savage yell and began to charge across the plain, arrows already released. “Now men Charge!” yelled Bysius. The thundering sound of both armies as they charge wildly at each other was amazing to both Antipater and me. But those minutes of awe couldn’t last forever…
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SLAAAAMM!!!” Demetrius slammed his hand on his desk for the effect, making Seleucus jump.
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“The sound of armored men and animals crashing into each other reminded me that I were very much part of the battle that had now commenced. The clang of metal and the screams of both men and horses was terrible. But I wasted no time waiting engaging my opponents. I quickly thrust my spear into an oncoming Blue-Sythian Kataphractoi. The man screamed in agony as he fell off his horse and was trampled to death. Quickly I drew my sword and began fending off blows from numerous directions as I realized my son was missing. I began to search franticly for him. But it was fruitless, and I was forced to return my full attention to the battle. He watched as thousands upon thousands of men hacked away at each other brutally, as if every shred of humanity in them was gone. As I turned my head I quickly ducked to avoid being impaled by a spear, and then broke off the point and threw it back at it’s owner, planting itself in his neck. Everywhere this was happening, it seemed that the bloody job might never end. For two hours we kept up this onslaught with every ounce of our strength. Finally the tide turned against the Blue-Sythians as the strength of the Hetairoi proved to be to great for even them to defeat. And one-bye-one they were killed. I, exhausted from the battle, began to search for my son again...”
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“He was never found, my son, no matter how hard we looked his body was never found. I never forgave myself for losing him during that battle. But I guess it really isn’t my fault is it? My friends and wife repeatedly told me it wasn’t my fault but I never could bring myself to believe it as much as I wanted to”. Demetrius said. His eyes never left the portrait the entire time. Though he wasn’t facing Seleucus it was clear that he was crying.

“It wasn’t your fault there was nothing you could have done,” Seleucus said trying to comfort the old man.

“Save me your pity. It’s far to late for it to matter now”. He said as he turned to look at Seleucus. “Please, I beg you, marry my daughter. All I want for her is happiness. You are the closest thing to a son I have now. And your marriage to her will secure that”. Demetrius said, his eyes pleading with Seleucus. Seleucus hesitated but his consciences told him to go ahead.

“I will milord, I will” he said happily.

“Oh praise you Seleucus! Praise you!” The old man said while embracing Seleucus. “Now go, and tell her the good news!” Demetrius said happily.

“Right away!” But just as Seleuces turned to leave Demetrius’s hand grabbed Seleuces’s shoulder.

“If you are to be my son in law you will have to learn to ride and fight like an Hetairoi”. The man suddenly said, sternly. “Before you can have her hand you must agree to undertake the training. For one day you just might be called upon to serve the Empire. Like I and Antipater did”.

“I agree,” said Seleuces and with that he left to propose to Dionysus.
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Somewhere outside of Tarsus on a black stallion rode the assassin; His black studded Armour covered his body, which was in turn covered in a cloak of black silk. His black hood covered the top of his head, or more accurately the mask that concealed his face. A silver mask that was shaped like a humans face, hid his entire face from view, save his blood red eyes. This emotionless mask went hand and hand with his personality. The last shred of human emotion, save hate and anger, had long since left him. He was a cold-blooded killer. He would just as easily kill a child as an adult. He had done it before, many, many times. His brutality was legendary, as was his skill with a blade. Underneath his cloak he hid an assortment of weapons from daggers to throwing stars. Beneath his black cape were the two scabbards that contained his signature weapons, his dual gladiuses. He could kill a man 1000 ways without a weapon, and a thousand more with a weapon. He was Deathstroke the Terminator. His horse suddenly stopped. It had sensed something. But Deathstroke already knew this. So he sat there, waiting for the unfortunate fool or fools to show themselves.

He counted the seconds, "1, 2, 3..." just as he got to five three armed highwaymen stepped out from behind a large rock. "Just on time" he thought. The biggest of the three, obviously the leader, spoke up.

"Give us 300 Denarii and we might let you pass unharmed". His first mistake. Deathstroke smiled behind his mask.

"Say one more word to me and I'll cut you're measly heart out". This masked stranger took the group aback.

"Maybe we should leave this guy alone Hanno" said one of Hanno's companions.

"Shut up you runt! I'll decide when to back off. Not you!" The other one quieted down and Hanno turned his attention back to Deathstroke. "Now kind sir no more games. I want your money. Now!" Deathstroke only laughed. A cold emotionless laugh, that was as every bit evil as it was bitter.

"Fool, you are no threat to me. No man alive can slay me". This mysterious stranger scared Hanno now, but his stubbornness refused to let him abandon this traveler.

"Alright then, YOU CHOOSE DEATH!" Hanno screamed as he whipped out his sword.

"Make my day" Deathstroke said. His voice unwavering.

Faster than you could blink an eye something shot out of his hand, and Hanno stopped dead in his tracks, literally. Sticking out from his neck was a sinister four-pointed throwing star. Blood was pouring out of the wound as he just stood there. He made a gurgling sound and fell flat on his face. Never to make another sound or move again; the other two screamed and began to run away but Deathstroke had other plans.

"You both can join your friend in hell!" Deathstroke yelled after them, traces of his evil nature evident in his voice. As every bit as fast as the first time Deathstroke produced two more throwing stars and threw them at the two helpless men. Both found their mark. The one on the left fell first; he had died instantly. The other, the one who had spoken out earlier, was still alive and trying to crawl away. But that wouldn’t help him. The hit had paralyzed him from the neck down. Deathstroke got off of his horse and walked over to the struggling man.

"Please have mercy! I meant you no harm!" he cried franticly.

"No, you didn’t. But I do!" With the heel of his boot he crushed in his skull.

When he got back to his horse he pulled out a scroll of paper that contained his orders: Spill the Imperial blood of Seleucia. The contactor was some high official that had sent out men to all corners of the world to find him. One of them got lucky. Who his contractor was he didn’t know for sure but he had a hunch; and a strong hunch it was for he was an expert gambler. But he didn’t care who it was so long as he was paid. It wasn’t his job to care who employed him, just to make sure that the job was done. He put the scroll away and then remounted his horse, and continued on his way.

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I’m trying to make this story succeed were my other one failed by doing these things. Increasing and diversifying characters and their names give descriptions so you know what I see in my mind. Make a deep, powerful and above all realistic plot. Not just a slaughter until they give and a supernatural invasion like last time. Increasing dialog. Give large descriptive battles that will be long. And make you feel as if your actually part of the story. I would like to thank many Authors like Tom Clancy, Ralph Peters, and J.R.R. Tolkien. I would also like to thank the many great authors here for there great inspirational writing. Most notably Emperor Augustus. (If I hadn’t liked your story so much, The Greatest War the World has Ever Seen, I probably wouldn’t be here writing stories and posting)

[This message has been edited by Greek Master (edited 11-18-2006 @ 01:47 PM).]

Take a bit of time and put spacing in... And check some of the spelling and grammar. Just saying it before the others beat me to it.
It's really good. My own personal gripe is that you're taking it really quicky. Take a bit more time to develop the characters and go through the events, and put in more detail. I really like this story.
Keep writing.

Hey aznnin, I'm still working on the plot and the charachters. But I promise It will get even better. Hey Kaiser if your out there can you give me a few pointers on how to help fix what aznnin just said?

[This message has been edited by Greek Master (edited 02-19-2006 @ 10:53 AM).]

@ Greek Master

Part of what he means is this. Compare these two paragraphs.

The king sat atop his horse and surveyed his kingdom. Then he went out and killed a patrol of Spartans. The Spartans were no match for the tough king. The king then went home and slept with his wife.

The warrior king sat atop his brown mare, and surveyed the majestic landscape that was his kingdom. To the east, Mediterranean Sea lapped against the beach, and white bird flew above searching the surf for a meal. As the king looked to the south, he saw a group of men. They wore scarlet red cloaks, and held golden shields. The bore long oaken spears topped with gleaming steel points. The king thought of raising a patrol to rout these raiders, but he feared losing contact with them and putting his people at risk. The old king nodded and drew his bow. He dug his heels into the sides of his mount, and down the ridge he rode.

The Spartans heard the rider coming and had formed into a small phalanx by the time he arrived. They stood with their spears forward, facing the mighty king. Bastulos (the king) knew that he couldn't charge them directly and so he quickly drew his bow. Before the Spartans could react, two arrows had pierced their ranks. The arrows caught one of the invaders in the thigh, and another sunk deeply into a Spartan stomach. The remaining three Spartans charged the king, but he simply turned his mount and back up the hill. The Spartans ran for many minutes before fatigue sank into them. The King turned and fired his final two arrows at the remaining enemies, but only one fell. Now out of arrows, the King knew what his options were.

The old king dismounted his horse and advanced holding his sword and shield. The final two Spartans lowered their spears to meet his charge, but one never came. Bastulos lashed out with his sword and cut the ends off both spears. The Spartans then drew their swords and charged the king."

That's what he means, if I understand correctly. Just watch your spacing and make the scenes more descriptive.

Am I right AZN?

Thx John the next chapter will be writen how it should be

Your spelling is really overall not that bad, you are just using the wrong words. It's the whole where/were/we're and they're/their/there mixup. Don't worry.

Quoted from Chapter I, line 1, sentance 1:

Which

Quoted from Chapter I, line 5, sentance 1:

Where

Just simple things like that.

In terms of description, just take time to develop and describe your characters a little more. For example, in the first paragraph of ch. 1, when Dionysus enters, describe exactly why Seleuces finds her so beautiful.

"Seleuces! Seleuces! My father wants you!" called Dionysus, the landlord's daughter. Seleuces couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked as she ran toward him. He admired how you her long blond hair seemed to float on the wind, and how her shiny, marble green eyes glimmered in the light of the late afternoon sun.

If you need anything else, just post somewhere I'll notice it. Or if you really want to get my attention email me.

Chapter II: The Will of Empires

Molon strolled slowly through the gardens of Antioch. He looked around and embraced the sights and smells of the dozens of tree and plant types, of the citrus fruits, and the many herbs and spices. Being in the Garden of Athena always calmed his nerve. Things were not looking good for the Empire. Ardashir II had formed a new following in the Senate, the Sassanids, and with the immense vote of the Persian peoples living in the empire they had secured a massive amount of seats in the senate. "Another such political victory and Ardashir will have the power to break free of Seleucid control", he thought to himself. The narrow paved path that led threw the gardens suddenly came to an end and forked off into two separate paths. Molon chose the right one. "Clang, clang, clang!" the sound of metal boots hitting the ground dispelled the peace and quit the gardens provided.

"Arrhidaeus, what do you want?" asked Molon as he turned to face the Captain of the Kataphractoi unit of the Hellenic Guard.

“General Molon, the Emperor wishes a council with you and the other Diadochi. You must get there as soon as possible". He said sternly. "Just like a true soldier", thought Molon.

"Very well I shall be there shortly. Now leave". Arrhidaeus bowed and left. "So much for my peaceful walk", he murmured as he turned to leave.
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Half an hour later Molon walked through the doors to the High Council Chambers. Despite its grand name the room was Spartan. At its center was a large round table with eight seats surrounding it. In front of each seat was a goblet of wine, the refreshments. Countless maps and records cluttered the rooms many shelves giving the Diadochi near infinite wealth of information at their disposal to deal with any crisis.

"Molon please take a seat now the council can begin". Said a voice from behind him.

"Your kind words exceed you Artemis. Perhaps you should explain with them how you, our great Financial Diadochi, nearly lost his fortune gambling and had an affair with an aristocrats wife in an attempt to restore his coffers back to normalcy?" Molon said. The Financial Diadochi's face began to burn with embarrassment.

"Molon! Quite yourself! He has already stood trial for his sins and the word of justice had been sound. His past sins are not of our concern now. But Rome is". Boomed the voice of Seleuces V Philotas Nicator. "Now take a seat".

"Yes milord", Molon said in a quite, bitter, voice. But he still wanted nothing better than to see the Financial Diadochi dead.

"The great Seleucid Empire now faces two great forces, one internal, and one external. Within our borders the people of Persia are attempting to exert their independence through the senate. And by doing so will tear our empire in half. And the other threat, the external threat, is none other than Rome herself. For 280 years since the Great Mediterranean War our two empires have coexisted in peace. But Rome is growing in power and soon her armies will rival are own in both size and power. I fear Rome is planning for another war, and this cannot be aloud". Said the Emperor. "Now my Diadochi, my friends, how can we deal with both of these immense threats?"
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“Oh of course Seleuces! I will marry you!” Yelled Dionysus. Her joy was abundant. Even the gloomiest man would have been filled with happiness by her mere presence.

“Dionysus I have waited far too long to tell you this. Now let us hurry your father is preparing for us!” Seleucus said eagerly.

“Ah Seleucus I see you two are already ready for this. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this!” Said Demetrius. He continued to smile at them as they got ready to marry.

“Alright, “Dad”, I think were ready” Seleucus announced. “Good then. Let me begin by saying how happy I am for you two. Now on with the session, do you, Seleucus, take my daughter, Dionysus, as your one and only wife? And do you promise to support her and love her for all of eternity?”

“Yes sir”

“Good then. Now Dionysus do you take Seleuces as your one and only husband and promise to love and support him for all of eternity?”

“I do”

“Good you may kiss the bride and go make me some grandchildren”.

“Dad!”

“Sorry but I’m old and I want to die with grandchildren at my bedside!” Exclaimed Demetrius.

“Don’t worry you’ll get some, I promise.” Seleuces assured him. “Come on honey, lets go enjoy are night”. Dionysus quickly caught on and exclaimed,

“Seleuces! You naughty boy!”
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Molon was furious. He had warned the Emperor countless times to take a firm and aggressive stance with Ardashir but know in this critical moment. He had forsaken all of his advice.

“That bastard! I tell him 1000 times to send troops to deal with him but no; he takes the side of the Domestic Diadochi and his whole ‘wait and see’ policy. Blaspheme!” He stopped to catch his breath. “This is why I wish that the Emperors didn’t grow up spoiled! This is what happens to them!”

Molon stopped, for a wicked laughter rang out through the hallways. He paused in shock before coming to a conclusion. But his train of thought came to abrupt end when he heard what came next,

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!” The scream cut through the early dawn like a knife.

“That sounded like… CRATERUS!” Molon rushed down the halls as fast as he could. Soon Argyraspides Legeonarioi and Hypaspistai Guards were joining him as he raced forward. “Craterus! Are you all right!?!” Yelled Molon.

Finally he reached the door. He jiggled the knob. “Locked. Craterus! Craterus! Open up!” No reply. Mustering all of his strength he broke down the door. Molon along with eight guards rushed into the room to find a man garbed in black dawning a silver mask waiting for them...
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Deathstroke was pleased with himself. He had made it to Antioch from Tarsus in record time. It was late though; in fact it was nearly dawn. But Deathstroke couldn’t stay here to long before he attracted attention. It was now or never. He, of course, choose now. Riding through the city he began to study it looking for the best escape routs. He found it. Outside the Royal Palace was an inn, and by the look of it a wealthy one. It was near an ally that led to an auxiliary gate. Though the Inn it was obviously intended for higher-class citizens he could have hardly cared less. He would secure a stable for his horse, Shadow, for free.

“Boy!” Deathstroke said as he entered the stable. “Put my horse in the stall closest to the exit,” he said, harshly.

“Umm, sir it’s taken,” said the stable boy nervously.

Deathstroke glared at the boy. Then he got off his horse and walked over to the horse in the stall he wanted. It was a brown horse, probably Arabian. When he reached the horse he grabbed it before it could pull away from him in fear, and with superhuman speed ripped out a knife and slit the animal’s throat. So violently was it done that within a minute the horse was dead. Then Deathstroke grabbed the corps by its mane and effortlessly threw it to the other end of the stable.

“Now it’s free. Put my horse there or I’ll do the same to you!” The stable boy nodded and quickly led Shadow over to the stall.

“Good. Now be a good little boy and keep your mouth shut and you might live to see another dawn!” The boy nodded slowly. Deathstroke was satisfied. He walked out of the stable and turned the coroner.

Once the coast seemed clear the boy turned and ran for the door leading out of the stable to tell his master. Then the sound of a throwing star cut threw the air. The sinister weapon cut into the base of the boy’s skull, killing him instantly. Deathstroke looked at the boy, pity without.

“Stupid child” he said disappointedly, he then turned and left.
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Deathstroke ran, he leapt from alleys to roofs and ran along the side of buildings, as the very first rays of dawn began to hit the city. Within minutes he had reached the palace walls. He scanned them looking for the perfect place to scale them.

“Ah! Perfect” his voice full of sinister delight.

He took a step back, then another. Then with an incredible burst of speed he ran forward jumped on a nearby crate and ran 20 feet up the wall. Just as he lost his momentum and began to fall back towards the earth he threw out his chain whip. A sinister black chain with a knife molded to the end, also black. The chain shot forward and wrapped around one of the battlements and dug deep into the stone. He pulled hard on the chain and climbed the wall like a climber would the side of a mountain, only faster. Within seconds he was on top of the wall. He quickly pulled the chain free and hid it beneath his cloak. He advanced cautiously checking everywhere for guards. There! A couple of Argyraspides Legeonarioi were making their way along their patrol rout. Deathstroke fled into the shadows, invisible to all.

As the Legeonarioi passed he leapt out of his shadowy domain and almost instantly, before the guards even knew what was happening, he slew them. So fast did he kill them that there wasn’t an off time for his swords to bloody. As soon as he had returned his swords to their scabbards he grabbed each of the guards by the neck and through them over the wall.

“Good. The sound should attract the outer guards away from me”

No sooner had he said this when the shouts of guards could be heard as they made for the section of wall were he stood. Deathstroke, though, was to fast and as soon as the first groups of soldiers arrived he was gone.
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Deathstroke looked everywhere for his first victim. He could sense it was close.

“Ah, yes, he is near!”

As fast as he could move Deathstroke ran through the palace grounds, avoiding dozens of guards. Finally he found what he was looking for, a window. But not just any window, this window was special. Deathstroke had killed enough nobles to know that a window positioned as this one is for a special person. A prince. He quickly whipped out his chain and shot it forward. It landed squarely below the opening, just where he was aiming for. Deathstroke grabbed the rope and pulled. It was firm. He jumped up onto the wall and began to climb, pull-by-pull and step-by-step, he made his way up the wall. Soon he was at the window. He leapt threw the opening and landed. His prey awaited him.

Deathstroke advanced quietly threw the room, looking for his victim. He looked around quietly searching for his prey. Then his ears detected footsteps, and not those of a man, but those of a boy. They stopped right outside of the main door to the southeastern wall. Deathstroke quickly hid in behind the burgundy curtains by the window. Then a boy, no older than ten, walked out. Wrapped in a silk sheet, it was obvious he had just taken a bath for he was still a bit wet.

“Easy” Deathstroke murmured to himself. Then he threw aside the curtains that hid him.
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Craterus was shocked by the sudden appearance by this... this man, or at least he thought it was a man.

Deathstroke wheezed with laughter “This is the Prince of Seleucia? I had expected someone older, someone more worthy of my blades for they are quite thirsty. Your days have ended kid.”

“You’re going to kill me? Why?” Craterus stuttered.

“That’s classified my boy. Now meet steel.”

Craterus screamed at the top of his lunges, but to late was he. As soon as he started screaming his throat was slit.
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Deathstroke looked at the corpse of the boy.

“Pleasant, he screamed. Oh this will end well.” He said as he retrieved his throwing star, looking at it with a bitter pride, for it was his own invention. He turned to leave, taking one last look at the boy,

“I’m getting sloppy. I need to train harder and longer.”

He began making for the door when he heard it. Clang! Clang! Clang! It was the sound of a dozen metal boots hitting the marble floors rushing towards the room.

“Here they are. No matter, they shall not capture me. I shall leave a free man.”

A man, an older one to he guessed, began to yell, “Craterus! Craterus! Open up!”

-----------------------------------------------------------

Molon looked at the corpse of Craterus lying on the floor, throat slit. Blood was oozing all over the floor surrounding the boy; drenching the silken sheet bright red. He looked up again to look at the assassin, His gaze stopped dead as he looked into the mask of the assailant. He uttered a single word.

“Deathstroke”.

“I’m surprised you know of me. Perhaps my legend has grown yes? Or maybe you are just a man knowledgeable beyond your years? But wait. Do I know you?”

“I am Molon! Military Diadochi to Emperor Philotas Nicator of the Seleucid Empire!” Molon announced proudly.

“Ah. I thought so. I know who you are.”

“I bet. But you are a dead man now Deathstroke!”

Deathstroke quickly swiped his hands behind his back and produced eight throwing knifes.

“I beg to differ,” he said coolly

He crossed and then pulled his arms back and threw the knifes, letting them shoot forward at the eight Legeonarioi that flanked Molon’s sides. All found their marks. The Legeonarioi staggered and fell forward, landing flat on their faces.

“I do not see why you wish to fight me Molon. But so be it. My bounty awaits me.”

Molon drew his sword. “You killed Craterus. He was my last hope for a strong Emperor!”

“I followed my orders.”

“And you followed them to well and it shall resault in your demise Deathstroke. Prepare to fight!”

“So be it” said Deathstroke. As fast as lightning Deathstroke rushed forward, but Molon was a seasoned veteran of war and new much about Deathstroke. And countered Deathstrokes’ blow.
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Deathstroke was surprised. He had not expected Molon to have been able to counter the strike. But everyone is full of surprises.

“Your good old man but you still can’t beat me!” he said as he rushed forward again.

“I can and I will!” Molon said determined not to loose and avenge Craterus’s death, a death he had not wanted. More soldiers began to rush down the halls to the sound of the battle. Molon again countered Deathstroke’s attack.

“I don’t have time for this! I have others to take care of!” and with this Deathstroke dropped to the floor and kicked out his leg, tripping Molon.

As Molon began fell Deathstroke leapt up and side kicked him so hard that it sent him flying threw the door and into a crowd of soldiers. Deathstroke rushed out of the room and into the mass of troops.

“I pity you fools! You think numbers alone can stop me? Think again.”

His fierceness stunned the troops. He leapt forward with all of his strength and in a whirlwind butchered them as he cut a path threw them. Block, strike, strike, kick, jump, and elbow. The fighting was intense. But finally he reached the end of their number, and took off down a corridor, intent on killing his final victim.
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Philotas Nicator stood in his chambers. They were the exact opposite of his sons, as every bit luxurious, as Craterus’s was Spartan. He looked out his windows upon the early rays of dawn. He knew that these were the final hours of his life. The commotion outside was an of to tell him that his time had come.

“When bloodless night turns to bloody day,” He repeated to himself.

He remembered that prophecy. He was told it by his nanny when he was boy. It had haunted him to this day, this final day. “So it has begun. The end of the world as we know, has begun”

He stood there gazing out the window. Not even paying attention to what was going on outside his door anymore. Then the door opened. Yet he didn’t turn around, he knew whom it was.

“So Deathstroke, you have finally come for me. I knew this day would come. Make it quick. If the prophecy is to come about then don’t waste my time delaying the inevitable”

Philotas Nicator tugged at his robe with a bit of nervousness. He knew this day would come. Yet, he never was really prepared for it. Deathstroke looked at the old man. “He is an old fool, a brave old fool. Few men so readily accept their death” he thought.

“Fine, your time is up, it’s been up for the last 63 years”. He said as he walked towards the Emperor. He paused right as he reached the man and put his sword agianst Philotas' back and whispered in his ear, "Oh, and Philotas. I killed your wife."

With one quick strike threw the gut he ended the mans life. The deed was done. He then leapt out the window and made his escape.
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Molon walked into Philotas Nicator’s chambers. He new Deathstroke had left. He gazed at the body of the former Emperor. He laughed, “So it has finally begun. The greatest war of all time has begun. But Deathstroke you fool! You missed one person. The true heir to the throne, Antiochus the Greats heir, Seleuces Antiochus Ceraunus!”
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Half a world away in Rome, Emperor Maxamillian sat with his generals. He gazed at the map of the Mediterranean. His thoughts where clear to the men in the room. War. It seemed like a feasible course of action. Roman citizens wanted to expand the empire east into Greece, Anatolia, and Syria. So why not? Spies told that the Seleucid Empire was about to erupt into a civil war.

Finally he voiced his thoughts. “Generals! It has come to my attention that since Seleucia is about to become involved in a civil war we should relieve the pressure of controlling Greece and Anatolia by taking them!”

The men in the room agreed. No one argued with this, it was elementary. A cheer rose from the men in the room and they set out to prepare Rome for another great war with Seleucia.

From the shadows in the room’s corner a man, hooded and cloaked, watched with silent approval. Maxamillian was doing exactly as they had hoped. His master would be happy. And so the pieces where set, and the game was on.

[This message has been edited by Greek Master (edited 06-26-2007 @ 10:59 PM).]

There's improvement.

But you're still taking it just a wee bit fast. Slow down when typing. You've accidently hit some extra keys. For example you put gboots instead of boots. But when I slow down, I mean during one minute he's in the garden. During the next he's walked into the chambers. I was lost for a moment between those two events, not quite sure what happened.

Thx Kiaser, I will be using your discription of Dionysus when I go back and edit the story. I hate the english lang. it's so complex! and I'm American!

I am honored that you want to use my description But you should change it so it matches how you view Dionysus, not how I do.

@Everyone. Yes, that's pretty much what I meant.
@Greek Master: You're doing great. Still seems a wee bit fast (and why am I using Scottish vernacular?) but that could be because you have yet to finish that part. I'll wait 'til you finish it and reread and comment again.
Take some time, and keep writing. If this is only your second story (I think I remember your first one, and it was good), and they weren't incredibly long, you're probably still experimenting then. Just keep doing what you're doing until you settle into a certain style of writing that you can call your own.
Keep on keeping on. And check out my story... I need some help with the plot, and with commenting on continuity, etc.

Oh, I almost asked you if they had citrus fruits in the Old World... lol. But then I remembered that they did...

@Kiaser, thats pretty much how I invisioned her

@anninjahitman, I've already replied Ya I would have countinued the chapter but I really need spell check. (Been using my freinds ) Yeah I'm still experiminting but I think I like this style. I'm going to go back and make some changes to it though. Oh and I nearly forgot to mention, when I went to reply I accidentaly clicked the edit message button on your post, which means I can edit your posts! (Laughs evily... just JK )

@Everyone, Hey I want to think of a name for my first chapter, Can anyone think of one? Oh and I edited the first chapter, tell me what you think!

[This message has been edited by Greek Master (edited 02-21-2006 @ 07:32 PM).]

Any replies? any?

HI!!!
My reply.
Um... will check my email in a few hours after I do some homework and eat dinner.

Hey everyone Chapter 2 has been completed and ready for reading! Tell me what you think wether positive or negative.

Um, I just realized that Dionysus is a strange name for a girl... haha.
Anyways, it's got tons of potential. BUT... spelling, grammar, etc. The normal quibbles. And you're still going a bit fast. The action is fine the way it is, maybe a bit more description would help or more vivid descriptions, but the main thing is character development through thoughts and actions and speech/dialogue. The little details are the key, such as "the Emperor turned slightly and rearranged his robes with a touch of nervousness, then faced Deathstroke." Little things.
You're doing great. Keep writing and improving.

^^ See post above

One thing I want to mention, though:

Watch your small details.

Quote:

What heritage is Deathstroke? Unless he is Asian I don't think it makes sense for him to have throwing stars. It's always the little things. You could perhaps have him carrying throwing knives but stars seem... what's the word? Well, they don't fit his character, really.

But good section.

Kaiser, Deathstroke isnt Asian, the throwing stars are his own invention. I'll work on the little things. Chapter 2 has been edited slightly.

[This message has been edited by Greek Master (edited 02-25-2006 @ 08:55 AM).]

... maybe throwing stars aren't badass enough for Deathstroke. Give him a few chakrams, with jagged blades on them. Either that, or unfolding glaives like what the US Special Forces used in Vietnam.

Chapter III: Mobilization and Revelations

Deathstroke rode hard and fast. Most horses would have died of exhaustion by now, but not Shadow. Shadow was a special breed of horse, an Iranian breed. He was a special horse breed for the Seleucid Agema force. A crack force of super heavy Kataphractoi trained and recruited from Media. He rode on stopping every now and then to rest his horse. He knew that the Seleucids would send many Xystophoroi and Ippiko after him. SWOOSH! An arrow shot out just in front of his horse. “And Persian cavalry” he said with a bit of sarcasm in his voice. But no Persian was this! A man hooded and cloaked, walked forth from his hiding place.

“Deathstroke! My Master is pleased with your success. But your mission is not yet over. One still lives, Antiochus’s heir still lives!” Said the Stranger. His accent was heavily Greek, with a bit of Armenian in it.

Deathstroke eyed him coldly. Few, few people ever dared to tell him he left his mission incomplete. The man, tugged nervously at his cloak, obviously afraid to return the look Deathstroke gave him.

Finally Deathstroke spoke up, “There is no lost heir. I know this for a fact”. The man, though still nervous, smiled.

“He lives though! On an estate 3 miles north Nicopolis. He lives with the noble Demetrius and his new wife.” The man stopped for a second. “Two men are to accompany you on this, my master wishes it”.

Deathstroke laughed, a cold laugh that would steal the heart of any man. “Your master thinks I require assistance? Who is this idiot you serve?”

“He is the one that hired you. And these accomplice’s have there own job to do once your mission is complete”

At the sound of this two men came forward from the same place this man had once hidden. Deathstroke watched them as they came forward. The men wore a tattered brown cloak, it appeared to be made out of wool. And rode brown horses. They sat silently on there horse. Not saying a word, not even looking up. Deathstroke looked at them, obviously unimpressed.

“You think yourself wise, trying to outsmart me like that. But I know these are no beggars. Unveil yourselves! Great Arcani!” The men threw aside their cloaks unveiling themselves. Deathstroke was right. They were indeed Arcani.

“Succeed in your mission Deathstroke and your reward shall be greater than you could imagine. When your finished come to Rome,” the still cloaked man said. Deathstroke looked at him, then, faster than he could react was off his horse and upon the man, sword drawn.

“Tell your master I’ll do this last job. I’ll find his lost heir if he does really live. I’ll come to Rome. But mark my words, if I even get a hint of a double-cross I’ll slit both you and your master’s throat! Understand!”

Deathstroke blood red eyes pierced the soul of the unfortunate man causing him to fall backwards, he immediately began scooting away. “Yes... yes I understand you have my word” stammered the man, now truly rattled.

“Good. Now out of my sight!” Deathstroke yelled at him. The man jumped up and ran for his horse. He pulled himself on the beast, reared it, and rode away as fast as he could.
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Seleuces woke up happily. His beautiful wife lay next to him. He thought back to the previous night.

“Man that was awesome” he looked out the window. It was well passed sunrise. “Better get up. Demetrius well want to train me,” Seleuces said as he rose slowly from his bed. He was still a bit drowsy. Never the less he got dressed and walked out to the front yard. As he walked out side he tugged at tunic, trying to loosen it. Demetrius was already outside with a horse, a sword, and a spear.

“Well, well, well looks like someone finally decided to get up. So did you do it?” He asked with an unusually crazy smile.

“Yes we did it. Happy?” Seleuces said, somewhat embarrassed.

“Don’t be embarrassed I was the same way. Except I was thirteen when I did my first girlfriend. I was a horny little bastard back then. Still am, but old age finally caught up to me... And lets change subject. Your ready?”

Seleuces broke up into laughter. “Yes I’m ready you sick bastard. What’s first?” Seleuces had to slap himself to stop laughing. He began to wipe the tears from his eyes.

“All right shut up I’m old yours will get the same way. Now get on this horse here and show me how well you can ride it”

Seleuces did as he was told. Upon getting on the horse he began to rear the horse. The animal did as it was told. Soon they speed up to a trop, then a run, finally a gallop. Seleuces turned his head to look back at Demetrius, he was signaling for him to stop. Seleuces pulled the reigns and the horse slowed to a stop. He turned it around and galloped back to Demetrius.

“I see you can ride well me boy. But tell me how well can you joust?” Demetrius threw the spear at Seleuces. He caught it easily. “Now see that tree down yonder? Impale it”.

“But Demetrius that’s Dionysus’s apple tree!”

“So? I’ll tell her it was an accident. Now impale it or I’ll rip your liver out!”

“Yes sir!”

Seleuces steadied the lance, and then he hit the side of the horse with his heel and charged forward. “Steady, stay steady Seleuces” Seleuces fought to maintain control of the horse and balance the spear. Finally when the tree was within reach he thrust the spear forward, hitting in right where he had aimed it. Demetrius, now on a horse of his own, rode over to Seleuces.

“Amazing! I’ve never in all my life seen anyone hit a target so... perfectly on their first try! How in the name of the gods did you do it?”

“I don’t know. It just came naturally to me like I had done it before. But I don’t ever remember doing this” Seleuces replied. Demetrius studied his face. There was no lie in it. He shrugged and decided to get on with the training.

“Okay your going to fight me with this sword. Lets see what you can do” Demetrius extended the sword to Seleuces. Who, with a second of hesitation, took it. “Good. Now get off that horse and fight me”

Seleuces hoped off his horse and prepared for Demetrius’s attack. “AHHHHHHH!” Demetrius yelled as he attacked Seleuces, the attack was blocked and Seleuces repaid the attack with a quick thrust.

“Always yell when you begin an attack! The first step in winning a fight is to break your enemy’s mind. The psychology battle is the first and most important. The warrior that wins the psychology battle will always win the fight. You must break your enemy’s will to fight to succeed”. Demetrius yelled over the clang of metal.

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!” Seleuces screamed with all his might. The scream caught Demetrius off guard and Seleuces struck with all his might. CLANG! The blow was so powerful that both the swords broke on impact.

“Very good Seleuces, I think you understand the art of sword fighting” Demetrius said wearily, his breathing became heavy.

“I’m sorry...” he stopped to catch his breath. “About the swords” Seleuces panted.

"Its okay, they where only for practice, there of a cheap quality anyway. Let us go inside for some breakfast”.
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Molon stood on the hilltop several miles outside of Antioch. He surveyed his surroundings. The sound of the ocean hitting the beach, sea birds crying out as they looked for food, the sound of the wind as it rustled the grass, and the smell of salt brought by the wind from the sea. It was beautiful. He hoped he to could be buried like this one day to. The gently rolling slopes of the hills where home to dozens of Seleucid kings, including Antiochus the Great. He starred longingly as the Hellenic Guard lowered the bodies of Philotas Nicator and Craterus into their tomb. He turned away unable to watch them be lowered into their dark grave. He turned and walked towards the sea. Something about it always made him calmer, at ease with himself. He only wished he could have been an admiral, his expression turned from a bitter, sad one, to a calm one almost instantly. The spray of the ocean wetting his face, he laughed, not one of happiness or joy, but just a laugh. Like the ones where you begin laughing for no reason apparent. He stood their imagining what was to come now. He had known long before this day would come. Yet he had been unprepared when it finally did come. Without even thinking he closed his eyes began to recite the prophecy,

"When the bloodless night turns to bloody day,
A war shall start unprecedented by all previous in scale,
A kingdom shall rise while another falls,
An Empire will die while its King cries,
The hordes of Oblivion will pour out of their dark forests,
And the north shall be engulfed in the flames of war,
Brothers will turn on brothers and mothers will weep,
An Empire will fragment and ancient enemies will battle once more
A merciless warrior will fall to the savior of Helena,
The heir of Antiochus will reclaim his rightful throne and a General will betray his king
And the world shall burn in never ending flames,
When the bloodless night turns to bloody day”

When he had fished he opened his eyes. To his surprise General Phillip of Syria, Captain of the Hellenic Guard, was standing beside him, a grim expression set about his face.

“Molon tell me what does this all mean? This assassination, that poem you just recited, what does it all mean?”

“I don’t know my friend. I don’t know. All I can say that we are destined for another war with Rome, one bigger and deadlier than before, destiny has steered us to this point. Rome will waste no time preparing to invade once they hear of Philotas’ death. We must use this time to prepare for war. The Persians are the least of are worries. We have a population of one hundred and fifty million people from dozens of different cultures and two-thirds of them live in the western realm of the Empire. That means if Persia does split from us we will still have most of the population to fight with. That’s about even with Rome; but are forces won’t be spread as thinly as them, giving us one advantage. We can count on the Germanians, mainly the Suebii, and maybe the Numidians to support us in this war but I doubt the latter”.

Molon stopped for a seconded to study Phillips face to make sure he was keeping up with him. He appeared to understand. “Phillip send out the word. Mobilize all of are armies. We must strike first if we are to gain the upper hand”.

“Yes Commander. And what shall you do?” He asked his expression reinforced his ignorance about Molon’s political tactics.

“My own part is already playing out. But for now I shall go summon the other Diadochi. From there we can direct the war. I also have to go find a certain someone who is to play a major part in this chapter of history”. Phillip didn’t ask any more questions, he need not he did. Molon’s expression told him everything.
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Emperor Maxamillian walked slowly through the Imperial Palace in Rome, gazing out the widows of the massive building. His hawk eyes noticed every detail of the city, from marching Praetorians, to poor beggars, to pedestrians going to and fro in the forums. He felt invincible. Despite his age of 59 he refused to succumb to it. He was a lean figure but not to tall, he was bald save the crescent of snow-white hair that covered the sides of his head. He had a hook-noose and green eyes. He could usually keep a calm face but there were times when he let his emotions slip through and be revealed upon his face. He was proud of Rome. In a few hundred years it had conquered all of the territory between Africa and Britannia. His Legions controlled the balance of power from Illyria to Iberia. It felt good to be in charge. Maxamillian continued walking down the long hallways. Waiting for his best General to arrive.
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General Marcus Ulpius Nerva Traianus, or more commonly known as Trajan, was in a hurry. Having recently been recalled from the Danube river because Emperor Maxamillian wished to consult him on some pressing matters. Trajan was a middle-aged man. Not a day older than 32. His curly brown hair, ember eyes, muscular body, made him a formidable figure to behold. He was a discipline man who was 100% soldier. His expressions rarely let show what he thought and was mostly a stern face that showed command and determination. Despite this he did smile often. His mind though was on the Emperor.

He came to a stop when he reached a chamber guarded by several Praetorians, the Emperors council room. The Centurion looked at Trajan. His eyes searching him for any reason not to let him past. Trajan just stood there and returned the gaze. Finally the Centurion spoke up.

“Who are you and what business do you have with the Emperor?” his mood was sour.

“I am General Trajan of the Legio IV Flavia Felix, Legio VII Claudia, and Legio XIII Gemina Legions who together form the Legio IV Army Illyria. My business is the Emperors council”.

The Centurion looked over him again but could find no trace of lie upon Trajans face. So he simply shrugged and let him pass. “The Emperor will need to replace some of these men with more able and enthusiastic troops” he thought as he walked past. The two Praetorians near the door opened it for him and he strode in as they shut it behind him.
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“My Emperor I have arrived! What do you wish to discuss with me?” Trajan announced as soon as the door had closed.

“Ah! General Trajan! How good of you to arrive. I need to ask you something how ready is the Legio IV Army Illyria?” He asked passively, but even the most seducible of men could see he was plotting.

“That depends my Emperor, for what task do you require it to undertake?” Trajan asked, but he feared he knew what. The Emperors expression was simply to exploitable. In other words Trajan could read the Emperor like a book.

“I want you to invade and conquer Illyria and prepare for war with the Seleucid Empire”.

Trajans jaw dropped. He had expected war with Illyria but Seleucia? By the gods the Emperor must be mad! “Seleucia milord!?! You want war with Seleucia!” Trajan exclaimed. It was hard to tell what he was thinking now. His emotions where mixed.

“Yes General. Seleucia. Is there a problem?”

“Yes there’s a problem! Do you have any idea what you’re getting into? Seleucia is the strongest nation on earth! They have a vast population and enormous resources to call upon and a near infinite supply of wealth! It would be suicide to attack them!” Trajan was practically yelling, trying to drive some sense into the Emperor.

“My army comprises of only 24000 men! The average Seleucid army mans thirty or forty thousand men!” All while this was going on Emperor Maxamillian just stood there and listened. Finally he raised his hand, Trajans symbol to stop talking.

“General your fears are falsely placed. Seleucia will not be as strong of a power as you think. They are not as strong as they once were. Most of their forces will be pulled out of my target area, Greece. Your army will easily be able crush the Illyrians and I assure you, you’ll receive massive amounts of reinforcements for the invasion of Greece. Once you are in position you can expect six legions to assist you in Greece. That combined with your three will amount to a total of 72000 men. I may also send more.” The Emperor said calmly, he seemed so sure of victory it didn’t even seem real. Never the less Trajan was bound by his military oath, the sacramentum.

“Very well milord, I shall proceed with the invasion. My army can leave as soon as I arrive”

“Good, very good. You should be proud Trajan, you’re about to expand Rome to all new hits!” The emperor said excitedly.

“Or to its grave,” murmured Trajan as he left the room. He walked past the Praetorians, taking no notice of them, and continued until he felt like he could stop and sort things out.
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Molon and his Somatophylakes marched down the road towards the estate of the former Hetairoi Demetrius Homer. His bodyguards, the Somatophylakes, numbered about eighty men. He was taking no chances. He needed to find Seleuces Antiochus Ceraunus, the true heir to Antiochus’s throne.

“Halt!” Molon cried. They had been riding for hours and the horses needed a break. The commander of his personal detachment of Somatophylakes, Diodorus, rode forth to consult with Molon.

“Commander we are currently several hours away from Demetrius’s estate. How long do you wish to rest the men?” He asked raising his spear in a salute.

“We will rest for ten minutes. No more” Molon knew he couldn’t waste time. He had to get to the estate as soon as possible. If he could find Seleuces and bring him before the other Diadochi to approve him for Kingship then Seleucia might just be saved. “The fate of the world rests on Seleuces’s decision, may the gods help us now”.
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Deathstroke and his Arcani companions rode hard and fast towards the “home of the lost heir”. The entire journey had been silent. That was good for the Arcani’s sake. Deathstroke was furious that his mission wasn’t complete. “This can’t be right there is no lost heir I know it”. He thought furiously. The light of the day was fading. By the time they would reach their destination it would be past dark.

Deathstroke looked at the Arcani on his right. The armor he was so finely crafted so that while it offered great protection, it would not slow or tire these fantastically fit man. His facemask looked as if it was purposely designed to scar the hell out of someone. His left arm though, was uncovered and bare. He also bore a hooded cape. His companion looked the same. “These men are true assassins. Perhaps even real rivals”. Deathstroke laughed at the thought, to himself though. “No one could ever rival me. No one.”
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Seleuces was exhausted. He had been training all day with Demetrius. “It’s good to be young. Poor old Demetrius just can’t handle this kind of stuff anymore. At least not for long.” Seleuces thought back on the day.

Demetrius had to take lots of breaks whenever he personally joined him in training. But Seleuces had learned much today, that he was thankful for. Seleuces walked into the bathhouse. One of the slaves had prepared it for him earlier. He pulled of his tunic and felt the water. It was still hot.

“Ahhh! That feels good,” Seleuces said as he got into the water.

He thought about what he had learned earlier that day. Things where going good. He had learned how to strike, block, and thrust. How to parry and roll. He found out he could also joust and ride a horse exceptionally well. He looked around the bathhouse. The black and white marble used to construct it showed off brilliantly, or more accurately, what he could see thanks to the steam. And the rose petals made the room smell exceptionally fresh.

Finally, after an hour of bathing Seleuces got out of the bath and put on a fresh tunic a slave had brought him. Seleuces marveled at it. It was made of blue silk and was freshly woven. “Dionysus! She shouldn’t have!” Seleuces quickly walked out of the bathhouse and to the main building to thank his wife for the new tunic.
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Deathstroke looked at the estate, studying it, surveying it, looking for all possible entrances and exits. The main building sat on top of a small hill. The main building was large and well built. He could see a bathhouse behind it, “Arcani someone is leaving the bathhouse. See if it is the one I seek!” They dismounted and did as they where ordered. Deathstroke once again turned his attention upon the estate. He couldn’t believe his luck! Their where no guards! “Time to finish what I started one year ago”.
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Seleuces was almost upon the heavy wooden door of the main household when he heard the snapping of a twig. “Who’s there?” he called out. No answer.

Seleuces suddenly felt a chill in the air, he felt as if he was being watched. He didn’t like it. “I think I’ll go inside now,” he thought to himself. But just as he opened the door a knife flew threw the air and embedded itself in the wooden frame right next to Seleuces’s head.

“Were under attack!” He yelled in his mind; fear beginning to take its grip over him. “I must get Dionysus and Demetrius out of here!”

Seleuces burst threw the door, slamming it shut as he took of down the hallways toward the dining room.

When he finally reached the dining room Demetrius stood up. His anger evident in his expression. “Seleuces where the hell were you? We’ve been waiting far to long for you to get here!”

“Demetrius were under attack!” Seleuces shouted out. Demetrius’s angry expression melted away to be replaced by one of horror.

“Attack! By who?”

“I don’t know but I think their bandits, or assassins”. Seleuces said as he looked down the other hallways making sure that no one was coming.

“Father why would bandits or assassins attack us?” Dionysus cried out. But her question went unanswered.

“Tell me Seleuces how did you find out we where under attack?” Demetrius asked trying to keep a cool head.

“When I got to the door a knife was thrown at me and it nearly hit my head” Seleuces answered.

“A throwing knife hmm? Then they are assassins. Dionysus stay with Seleucus and me. Come my boy we must secure weapons!”
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Seleuces and his new family rushed along the winding corridors of the house. Demetrius was even cursing himself for building it so large. CRRRAAAAAASSHHH! The sound of a window being broken rang through the house.

“Their in” Demetrius said, unnecessarily.

“Then we must run faster” Seleuces said and began to sprint as fast as he could with Demetrius and Dionysus close behind.

“Ah the weapons room!” said a panting Seleuces. They had found it but something told him that it might already be to late. He couldn’t have been more correct. For the sound of another throwing knife cut threw the air; and this time it found it’s mark.

Dionysus’s scream pierced the night with such a mortal terror that Seleucus couldn’t even believe it was real. But it was to late and Dionysus was lying on the floor with a knife in her spine.

“Dionysus!” Seleuces screamed. He looked down the hallway they had just came through and standing at the end of it was a man covered in black with a silver mask wielding two gladiuses
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“I’m so sorry we had to meet under such, unfortunate circumstances milord” Deathstroke said while laughing his signature evil laugh.

“Milord?” Seleuces asked threw tears as he kneeled over the fallen body of Dionysus.

“You mean you don’t know?” He paused to chuckle, “Your not serious are you!” Deathstroke looked on at Seleuces, laughing at his misery and ignorance. “So you really don’t remember? Do you? I shall remind you. You are Seleuces Antiochus Ceraunus, the true heir of Antiochus the Great!”

The revelation hit Seleuces like a bomb. “Antiochus’s true heir?” He looked at Demetrius for some sort of answer. Demetrius’s face was full of shock and grief yet somehow he mustered up the strength to talk.

“It is true Seleuces. That scar on your temple? It is a wound you suffered a year ago. You where attacked by an unknown assailant and you where hit so hard there by a blow from the butt of a sword that your memory was erased, save your name. You where found by soldiers and they took you here. And I’ve sheltered you since. You are the lost heir to Antiochus”.

“But why, how?” Asked Seleuces confusion was written all over his face.

“Because,” began Deathstroke, “Because someone didn’t want you around. Someone wanted you dead. You threatened someone’s power and they wouldn’t stand for that. Antiochus had a lost son and that sons descendents lived on in secrecy. You are the last of that line. So they hired me to take care of you. I thought you dead. But you are more resilient than I had thought.”

“Who are you? And how do you know so much about me and my history?” Seleuces asked, his mind was in a whirlwind of emotions, and the physiological strain was beginning to show.

"My name is Deathstroke. My father was Adam and my mother was Eve. I am the son of the shadows and the Devils apprentice. I am your worst nightmare; your worst fear. And tonight Seleuces Antiochus Ceraunus, I have come for you!” On their signal the two Arcani rushed into the room from the opposite corridor. “DIE NOW!” Deathstroke yelled.

The two Arcani rushed at Seleuces and Demetrius. But they were ready. Just as the Arcani struck they grabbed a pair of swords off the wall and parried the blows. Both men’s sadness and confusion turned into complete fury as the battled the Arcani.

The Arcani tried everything they knew to fight them but they where evenly matched. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!” screamed both Seleuces and Demetrius. The Arcani where thrown aback and the duo struck at them. Clash! Clang! The sound of their battle was beyond what Seleuces and Demetrius’s duel had been. When the Arcani struck the parried and struck back.

“Tell Hades I said hello you bastard!” Seleuces yelled as he slashed his sword out. The strike was true and the Arcani was struck. The assassin stumbled back, clutching the wound on his chest. Then he fell. Seleuces turned just in time to see the other Arcani wound Demetrius.

“Demetrius! NOOOOOO!” Seleuces rushed at the Arcani and struck him again and again until finally the mans skull cracked, killing him. “Demetrius are you alright?” Seleuces asked franticly.

“Yes, I think I’ll be fine. Curse old age”.

Clap, clap, clap. Both Seleuces and Demetrius turned to look at Deathstroke who was clapping for them. “Bravo, bravo. Quit impressive. You dispatched my two accomplices quit handily. I’m impressed I surly thought they where more than a match for you. But lets see how you far against a true master!”

Deathstroke whipped out his gladiuses and charged straight towards Seleuces at lightning speeds. Then he stopped, a mere inch from Seleuces, and leapt into the air as high as the room would permit him. As soon as he touched the ceiling, using his feat, he thrusted himself forward and shot straight at Seleuces.
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Seleuces couldn’t believe the speed at which this man was moving. Faster than the eye could perceive he moved from the end of the hallway to an inch in front of his face. Then he leapt up to the ceiling. Now he was shooting right at him! Thinking fast he threw himself to one side just as Deathstroke’s blades reached him. With a thud Deathstroke landed on his feet and stood up. He turned his head ninety degrees so he could see Seleuces out of the corner of his left eye.

“Tell me boy, do you like fire?”

Seleuces stopped a moment to try and comprehend what he meant, then he saw it hanging from a string in his left hand, it was a vile of Greek fire.
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“Don’t drop that Deathstroke. It will kill all of us” Demetrius exclaimed.

Deathstroke let out an amused laugh before speaking. “You old fool! Have you no idea of the extent of my power?” He turned fully around to face Seleuces. “So boy do you like to play with fire? Well here’s all the fire you can handle!”

Deathstroke threw the vial directly at Seleuces. Seleuces hit the vile with the broad side of his blade, sending it sprawling through the air. It hit the wall near Dionysus’s corpse exploding into flames. The wall immediately caught fire, and from there it spread faster than one could comprehend. Soon the room was blazing, and then the next, followed by more rooms until finally the whole house was ablaze. The heat was almost unbearable. It scorched Seleuces and made him sweat like a dog. But Deathstroke just stood there, as if nothing had happened. The heat seemed not to affect him, regardless of the fact he was covered in black clothing, which absorbs heat.

“Now boy let us end this!” Deathstroke said as he rushed forward. His blades created a whirlwind as the cut threw the air. But Seleuces was able to counter them as if he had been doing it since time immortal.

Seleuces struck back but Deathstroke parried it easily. “You fool. Do you actually think you can beat me? No one can beat me!”

“I will kill you Deathstroke! I will avenge Dionysus!” Seleuces yelled.

“Don’t make me laugh! You may have survived once but not again.”

With this Deathstroke struck at Seleuces, forcing him back. Seleuces now had his back facing the hallway Deathstroke had entered through. Deathstroke drew himself up to full height and struck again. Forcing Seleuces to the floor, sending his weapon far out of reach.

“So boy. Are ready to die?” Deathstroke asked as he towered over Seleuces.

“No he’s not!” Yelled Demetrius as he grabbed a bow and arrow off the wall.

Demetrius pulled back the bowstring and let his arrow fly. The shot was true and hit Deathstroke in the back. Deathstroke’s eyes blazed like a hellish inferno.

“WHAT THE ****!?!” Yelled Deathstroke as he ripped the arrow out of his back. He turned around to face Demetrius. If his eyes had been any wider they would have popped out. Fury filled Deathstroke, completely taking control of him.

“You old bastard! You’ll pay for that!” Deathstroke yelled.

“Come and kill me Deathstroke! I’m ready”. Demetrius drew himself up and prepared for the strike. But before Deathstroke could deliver the blow Demetrius threw his bow and last arrow at Seleuces yelling, “Shoot the arch! An send the bastard back to oblivion!” These where Demetrius Homer’s last words. Deathstroke, in one blow, cut the old man in half.

“Demetrius!” Seleuces yelled, tears beginning to flow again. Deathstroke whirled around to face Seleuces.

“Now for you!”

“Not today you son of a bitch!” Seleuces yelled. He pulled back on the bowstring with all of his strength and let his arrow fly.

It’s target was found and it hit the weakening support arch right in it’s weakest spot. There was a loud crack, then a roar, as the arch collapsed, along with most of that section of the building with it. Deathstroke looked up, and before he had time to think, the rubble collapsed upon him.
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Seleuces staggered out of the house just as it began to collapse. The flames still burned. It was all gone, his wife, his life, everything. Clop, clop, clop! Seleuces heard but he didn’t even bother looking up to see who was coming. He didn’t care. Then he heard the rumble of dozens of horses charging towards him. He had to look up now. A cold breeze caught him in the face, cooling him off greatly. Eighty armed cavalry had surrounded him, their faces glared ate him, and horses snorted and neighed. Then one of them moved forward, He was an old man, but he looked like a general of some sort. Seleuces was about to say something but the General spoke first.

“I am Diodorus, Commander of General Molon’s Somatophylakes. Who are you?” He asked, his face expressionless as he gazed upon Seleuces and the wreckage of the former house.

“I am Seleuces Antiochus Ceraunus, The true heir to Antiochus the Great!” Seleuces said trying to sound as strong as he could.

The Somatophylakes broke out in a wave of hushed voices as Diodorus eyed him suspiciously. Then he called up the nearest horseman and sent him off. In the space of a few minutes another man rode forth, also of old age but he looked much more important than Diodorus did.

“I am Molon, Military Diadochi of the Seleucid Empire. You claim to be Antiochus’s true heir, tell me how do you expect me to believe this?”

“Because you knew to look here for me and I am the only survivor of the disaster that has struck here,” Seleuces stated. It was all the answer Molon needed.

“Milord, what happened here?” Molon asked.

"I’ll tell later just give me something to sleep on"
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Later that night after Molon and his Somatophylakes had set up a camp Seleuces was escorted to his tent. He lay down in his cot and studied the interior. It was Spartan, no doubt about that. But it would suffice. Then without even thinking he began to cry himself to sleep.
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Molon walked out under the full moon and stared up at the heavens. He had found the lost heir to Antiochus’s but the real tests where yet to come. “You failed Deathstroke. You failed”.
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The moon shown brightly over the smoldering ruins of Demetrius’s former estate. The Somatophylakes had said no one could have survived the collapse of the building. Yet Molon remained skeptical. There was a rumbling, followed by another. Then a hand covered by a black studded gauntlet shot through the debris.

[This message has been edited by Greek Master (edited 11-21-2006 @ 02:33 PM).]

My only real nit pick is that you need to make a new paragraph whenever the speaker changes.

Chapter IV: An oath made, a destiny begins

Fire, smoke, and ash swirled around him as he pulled himself free from the ruins of the villa, armor ripped and broken, cape shredded, hood all but gone, mask, the mask, was cracked in half. How it still stayed on his face remains a mystery, even to him. Deathstroke clawed his way threw the debris, he was breathing heavily. He felt around himself, multiple bones where broken. Yet he continued to move around as if he hadn’t even been hurt. He whistled, calling to his faithful companion Shadow.

“That bastard, he got away again. When I finally get my hands on him he’s going to wish he had never been born.” Deathstroke said as he walked over to shadow and mounted his horse. “Move!” He yelled, at this command Shadow broke into a trot and moved down the rode.
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Fire, fire everywhere, mutilated corpses of men, women, and children littered the ground. The screams of the dead where everywhere...

“Lord Seleucus arise! The esteemed Military Diadochi Molon wishes to speak with you!” It was Diodorus.

Seleucus shoot up from under his covers. Sweat pouring down his face. “What does he want?” Seleucus asked. He was breathing heavily. He was tired and still in an emotional state and his dream didn’t help matters.

“He wishes to speak with you. But why I don’t know, perhaps if you went you could find out no?” He asked. It was apparent from the look in his eyes that he wanted to know what Molon wished to say to him.

“All right tell him I’ll be there soon”

“Alright and are you alright? You look... well startled”. He asked, with a worried expression.

“I’ll be alright Diodorus, just a bad dream. That’s all.”

Diodorus shrugged and left the tent in a hurry to report to his commander. Seleucus sat up in bed thinking about the night before. Dionysus’s screams haunted him; Demetrius’s last words rang through his head, Deathstroke’s sinister laugh cut through his mind like a knife. Deathstroke. The thought of him made Seleuces shiver. That black armor and cloak, that mask, that emotionless mask. But Seleuces had been there to watch his demise. He had seen Deathstroke in his final moments as he was crushed under the weight of the roof. “He is dead and that is all that matters” Seleuces told himself. Yet somehow he couldn’t shake the feeling that Deathstroke wasn’t dead.
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Deathstroke had ridden all-night and well into the morning. He needed to rest badly. There was a town nearby, and hopefully it had a tavern where he could recuperate. Finally as Shadow crossed overtop a hill the town came into view. “Finally. Now I can rest and gather strength.” He chuckled menacingly.

Deathstroke strode into the town, the people moved out his way, afraid of him, terrorized by him. Their gaze was one of a thousand fears as they watched in silence as the battered, half-dead wreck of a man rode into the town children playing in the street stopped and looked upon this man. The stench of death and darkness surrounded this man in an evil aura. From behind his cracked mask his blood red eyes glared hatred upon anyone unlucky enough to catch his gaze. It was unmistakable, blood was on this mans hands, the blood of thousands. Yet the people where too petrified, awe struck by fear and amazement to say or do anything. Dozens of pedestrians parted out of Deathstroke’s way as he made his way for the tavern. As he reached his destination he hoped off of Shadow and handed the reigns to a nearby stable boy. His glare told the boy everything, take the horse to the best stall available. The boy hurried of with the horse as Deathstroke watched before turning his attention onto the tavern. Deathstroke through the door open and strode in. The many people in there simply sat and starred with the same awe as the people outside had.

“Tavern keeper! Give me your best room. Somewhere in the back where I can recover from my... wounds”.

“I can but it will cost you” the man said. He was a plump man with a big moustache.

Deathstroke leaned in close to the man so his whisper could only be heard between the two of them, “Listen you fat ****. Monetary value is of no concern to me. I have plenty of gold. Now get me my room. For if you don’t I’ll rip your heart out and impale it on your spine once I rip that out too”. That did the trick. The man fumbled around for his keys and quickly handed one to Deathstroke. He took it and stormed down the hallway to rest and meditate.
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Seleucus made headway for Molon’s tent. Though he new in a few short days he would be the Emperor of Seleucia he wanted to make a good early impression on Molon. He was wearing a blue tunic that was covered by a Hetairoi torso piece. Seleucus walked calmly into the tent, though he was still choked up with emotion, his face gave it away no matter how hard he tried to cover it up. He adjusted his armor slightly and addressed Molon. “General. What do you need of me?”

“Seleucus you need not address me as your superior, quit the contrary I should address you as my superior”. Molon said as he bowed.

“It will take some time to get used to such flattery. But please what do you need me for?” Seleuces asked. He couldn’t have hidden the smile even if he had tried. Being treated like this was really beginning to feel good.

“Seleucus before you can become Emperor I must take you in front of the other Diadochi to be judged if you are worthy enough to be the Emperor. If they pass you, which I have no doubt they will, you will be required to lead a unit of Hetairoi into battle and succeed in routing the enemy forces” Molon paused, not sure how to continue yet he began again with a sense of confidence, perhaps even arrogance, in his voice. Seleuces I’ve decided that these times call for desperate measures. The other Diadochi will not try you. But you still must lead men in battle. That though will be after your coronation”.

“Whoa... what? Molon you’re going to break the law to speed up the process of my inauguration?” Seleuces asked, his mind in a confused state of emotion.

“Yes Seleucus I am, I understand what has happened to you and it is terrible but you must understand what is going on in the world outside of here...” Molon stopped for a second to look into Seleuces’s eyes. All they said was confusion, a sense of being lost in a big world. Nevertheless Molon continued. “Rome is mobilizing against us for war. We know that the first strike is being covered up in some plan called Operation Hellenist Storm. Our spies in Rome have warned us of this plan but all that has been unraveled of the plan is that Legio IV Army Illyria is going to invade Illyria but that is not all. Rome will also hit us somewhere else but the question is where. Seleuces I’m offering you the chance to seize your Empire back for your family, and with you at it’s head we can finally drive the Romans from our realm and succeed where Antiochus failed, by destroying Rome once and for all! Do you accept?” Molon was out of breath; he had been shouting this in a furious excitement that could have bent the will of most men. But Seleuces was not most men and his conscience told him to think about. He thought and for a minute the air hung still as he sorted out his emotions and concentrated on the question. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Seleuces spoke his answer.

“I do,” he said quietly, so quietly that Molon nearly had to ask him again what he had said. Molon nearly leapt for joy.

“You do? You do! Oh thank the Gods for this! Seleucus you don’t realize how important this is”. He stopped for a second to search for words. “Seleuces your coming to the throne will signal the revival of the Empires glory days. Though few realize it, the late dynasty of Seleucus V Philotas Nicator has been ruling only a shadow of the once great Seleucid Empire. Surprised? You should be. Though we remain the undisputed master of the eastern Mediterranean and Persia, are military, as of now, shrinking and degrading in quality, and are economy is getting worse, when we where ruled by Antiochus the Great we where the masters of the world. The Empire was an invincible juggernaut, the economy, a powerhouse. If you posses any of Antiochus’s traits then those days will come again”. Molon paused debating within his mind what to say next.

“Molon, I have no memory of my past and I’ve spent the past year as a farmer, how do you expect me to lead?”

“I trust in you Seleucus. You will do an excellent job. Antiochus has left as all a farewell present, the senate. They can rule until you have learned the necessary skills to rule. And once you’ve fought in the upcoming war...”

“War!?! Molon I'm no General. How do you expect me to lead the army?”

“Because your Antiochus's heir. It will be the greatest war that the world has ever known, here let me recite this prophecy to you, the great philosopher Theodosius the Wise made this during a visit to the oracle of Delphi...

When the bloodless night turns to bloody day,
A war shall start unprecedented by all previous in scale,
A kingdom shall rise while another falls,
An Empire will die while its King cries,
The hordes of Oblivion will pour out of their dark forests,
And the north shall be engulfed in the flames of war,
Brothers will turn on brothers and mothers will weep,
An Empire will fragment and ancient enemies will battle once more
A merciless warrior will fall to the savior of Helena,
The heir of Antiochus will reclaim his rightful throne and a General will betray his king
And the world shall burn in never ending flames,
When the bloodless night turns to bloody day

That’s the prophecy. Doesn’t it sound nice now?” He chuckled. “The whole bloody thing gives me the shits when I think about it. But time is being wasted. Come, we must leave for Antioch”.
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The girl was a sweet one, she would never intentionally do anything bad but her curiosity would get her in trouble from time to time. Her father, the Innkeeper, had warned her not to go near the stranger. But what harm could that do?

“Daddy doesn’t understand little girls or other people that well. I’m sure the man in the mask would love to have some company. He’s been back in that room for sooooo long.” She had said to herself.

So when her father wasn’t looking she slipped past him and headed down the hall to the masked mans room. She was only seven, blond curly hair, and had smile that would fill a room with sunshine. Her turquoise eyes and light skin made many a traveler remark how cute she was. She skipped down the hallway towards the back room where the man was.
She opened the door quietly, not wanting to disturb him incase he was sleeping. She peeked through the crack. Asleep.

“Ah poop! Oh well I can still look around.”

The little girl opened the door an of to allow her to slip threw and quickly, but quietly, shut it behind her. She looked around the room. In the upper right corner, by the table, lay the mans swords.

“Oh pretty!” she said.
She was about to say more but she remembered that the man was sleeping. The man! She quickly turned her attention to him. He was lying on the bed, no covers upon him. “I think I’ll go look at him,” she said to herself. She crept quietly up to his bed and looked upon him. He looked a lot better than from when he had first walked into the tavern. His bones had apparently been healed, but how? She shrugged the question away.

“Doesn’t matter. As long as he’s okay,” she thought.

His armor and cloak where in tatters. Yet continued to hide his body. His mask had a jagged crack going diagonally from lower right to upper left. Yet his face remained concealed.

“You must be so uncomfortable under that mask!” she said quietly. “Let me take it off for you.”

She was also curious to see his face. She extended her hand toward his face; inch-by-inch it drew closer, until it was but a few inches away from the mask. Then before she could realize what was happening something had grabbed her wrist. It was the man! His blood red eyes shoot open.

“No one touches my mask!” He said viciously. And with a quick, yet powerful, tug of his hand he ripped the girls arm off. Her scream could be heard from all over the village. Everyone immediately stopped what they where doing and listened in horror as it continued.

“ELENI!” the tavern keeper yelled as he turned and rushed down the hallway. He arrived at the hall just in time to witness his daughters body explode threw Deathstroke's doorway and slam into the walls. If she wasn’t dead before she was now. “ELENI!” the man screamed again as he rushed towards her, tears pouring from his eyes like a waterfall. But as fate would have it, just as he reached her lifeless body Deathstroke appeared threw the doorway, eyes blazing.

“Your daughter sends her regards!” and with one swift motion sent his sword threw his guts.

He gurgled and collapsed backwards. The Tavern grew silent as the people stared in horror at this man, this murder. Deathstroke smiled and unleashed a hellish laugh as he drew his other gladius.

“Lets see how much blood can be spilled in a day!” and he rushed forth into the mass of people.
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Seleucus watched with fascination as Molon and his Somatophylakes gathered up their camp with amazing speed, and within an hour they where on the march.

“There’s a little town not to far from hear. We should be there about sunset,” Diodorus said to Molon.

“Good that means we wont have to set up camp tonight” Molon said happily.

“Molon I would like to know some more about this war I‘m supposed to lead”. Seleucus asked as soon as Diodorus had ridden off.

“Ah, so you wish to learn about the upcoming war. Well perhaps I should tell you some background history too. Yes, yes I should. You see Seleucus this all began about 280 years ago, during the Great Mediterranean War.

When Antiochus the Great invaded Italia setting off the war, the initial invasion went well. He crushed a massive Roman army under Flavius Arminius Crassus the Swordsman. Crassus had been one of Scipio Africanus’ minions, left in Italia to keep an eye on the other leading Roman families. It had been a major victory, most of the Roman army in southern Italia where either dead or captured and it had been Rome’s largest defeat to date, surpassing even the disaster at Cannae. A couple day’s latter he had seized Tarentum and killed or captured another sixty thousand Romans.

He then quickly turned north and captured Capua, destroying three legions on the way. Rome was in a desperate state, the senators where in a panic and it seemed there where no troops left defend the capitol. Yet out of all things, Africanus arrived from Africa with his army and quickly built up strength by incorporating the remaining legions from all across the Empire into it.

Now before you asked me where he got the time to do this I’ll tell you. While in Capua he made the history changing decision to wait for reinforcements. For all his greatness and strategic and tactical brilliance he overestimated the Romans. Had he attacked immediately he could have seized Rome and ended it their. But alas this was not to be. He waited for the then Seleucid Guard, now the Hellenic Guard. This gave Africanus time to arrive in Italia, build up his forces and fight Antiochus. When they finally meet outside of Anagni they where on equal footing. But Antiochus had a legendary hatred for Romans and he could not resist the temptation to join the fight. By doing this he had lost the ability to control the battle and Africanus proceeded to crush him. But by the fate of the gods Hannibal Barca arrived with a new army he had been building in secret. He had been able to smuggle it to Italia thanks to the fact that most of the Roman fleet was in the Eastern Mediterranean fighting our fleet. So when he arrived he achieved complete surprise and was able to beat back Africanus’s forces. But Africanus had mauled both armies to the point where they could no longer mount an effective fighting force. So Antiochus abandoned Italia for Egypt.

From there the war seesawed back and forth between the Seleucid Pact and the Roman Pact. Antiochus beat back a combined Roman and Numidian invasion of Egypt. He repelled Africanus in Greece during the siege and latter battle of Sparta. But at the loss of his only son, Leonidas. He, along with Hannibal, seized Sicily and once again defeated Africanus. By this time Africanus had seized power for himself and became Rome’s Despot.

Antiochus had by now left for Judea to dispel a rebellion that was being supported by Rome’s best General, Gaius Julius Caesar. At first he meet success, defeating Caesar in a hard fought battle at Timnath-serah. Later though, thanks to Rome’s support of the local Jewish population, Caesar was able to regroup faster than Antiochus could and then beat him at the Battle of Azekah, Antiochus nearly died there too.

The battle was also a very symbolic thing. For the first time in more than a decade Antiochus had been beaten in a battle. This defeat nearly destroyed him but he was able to pull through thanks to the help of his close friend Theodosius. After repelling Caesars siege of Antioch, Antiochus fully recovered and completely rebuilt his army, calling upon troops from all over his empire. He also renamed the Seleucid Guard the Hellenic Guard. Then he set off with his new army and met up with Hannibal and his army in Greece.

Under Mt. Olympus the two meet Africanus and his army. Both sides combined numbered slightly over a half million men. In the titanic battle that followed everyone died except Antiochus himself. He never spoke of the battle again and we have no idea how the battle went or what happened. But anyway he made peace with Rome, obviously sick of the war.

“I hope that didn’t bore you with the background info.” He said with a look of intelligence upon him.

“No not at all. Continue,” Seleuces asked anxious to hear more.

“Well you can say that the Romans still hold a grudge against us. We are the only nation that has ever beaten them in war. Caesar respected Antiochus and Antiochus respected him to, remarkably. Yet Caesars son, Augustus, was infuriated at this and held a grudge against us, a grudge that carries on to this day. As you now know Emperor Nicator Philotas and his son Craterus where murdered a few days ago, by none other than Deathstroke himself.” Molon paused to observe the shock on Seleucus’s face at this new piece of information. “Yes Deathstroke killed them. And I bet the Roman government hired him to. Yet somehow they knew about you and sent him to kill you as well.”

“But how did they know about me? And before he died Deathstroke told me a year ago he tried to kill me.” Seleucus said.

“I don’t know how they knew about you. I also don’t know who hired Deathstroke to kill you the first time. But it might have been the Romans as well.” He stopped and chuckled. “So Rome wants to take us out to settle an old sore and remove us from the playing field. And we want Rome gone too. It all works out”.
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Blood flew everywhere. Limbs, organs, and bone. Deathstroke whirled around in a dance of death, cutting everything within reach of his blades. A man of Gallic origin drew his sword and rushed Deathstroke, only to be meet with a swift sidekick, the cartilage in his neck cracked, followed by the bone, and then his head spun around, facing backwards. Yet he lived, but by the barest of threads. Deathstroke ripped a piece of a chair leg off and thrust it threw him. He then turned his attention on to the lamps in the building.

“Lets see this place burn!” he said aloud as he ripped several pieces of wood out of chairs and tables. “Now for the real show.”

He threw the wooden pieces at the lamps and watched as they hit the ground one-by-one. He laughed his laugh. “All right Hades I’ve defied you dozens of times and lets all watch me do it again!” he yelled at the sky.

Behind his mask he smiled, “This will be fun. Right when those people gather around the building I’ll make sure they will never forget this. It will be the last thing they ever remember”

He marched over to the main support beam and with one powerful punch broke it. He turned and faced the door looked up towards the ceiling and held out his arms. “Watch me you immortal deities as I take your precious children from the embers of this fire!” He roared at the gods.

Then, as the building began to collapse, he let loose his most terrible laugh and just as the building collapsed down upon him he rushed forward as fast as he could go and burst threw the door, both gladiuses drawn.
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The people of the village gathered around the burning tavern to watch it burn down. They had heard the horrifying scream and all of the commotion from inside the building yet they remained confused. What was going on in there? Was the Masked stranger responsible for this? They got their answer. Just as the building collapsed the masked stranger shot threw the door. Blowing it apart. Then from the crowd one man cried,

“That’s no traveler! That’s Deathstroke the Manslayer! Run!”

“So there are those among you who know of me? Kinky! Well now you’ve spared me from an introduction.” He smiled, “But lets see how far you can run.”

With lightning speed he rushed into the group of people and began to systematically slaughter them. Then he ripped a lantern from a mans hand and threw it onto a building, catching it ablaze. Then the town militia showed up. They where garbed in the traditional eastern infantry uniform, which basically meant they wouldn’t last a second against him. Deathstroke turned to face them; he was going to give them his undivided attention. He glared right at them; his eyes seemed to glow like a wildfire. The men slowed for a second fear gripping them, but they felt safe in their numbers. They quickly picked up speed again but Deathstroke was more than prepared for them.

He got in his sprinters stance and in an instant he shot threw the group of soldiers. Then they stopped and fell in pieces, literally. A group of archers had just arrived firing arrows at him. Using his swords he deflected each shot and with the same speed as before he shot towards the archers and butchered them.

Deathstroke look around, the whole village was aflame. It’s citizens dead; it’s militia dead. No, some yet lived. Out of the corner of his eye he say a man run for a house. A single survivor.

The man ran towards his house. He was the mayor, the sole survivor. His town was ablaze and his people dead. But he was still alive. That was all that mattered to him. He turned his head. Deathstroke was watching him. No! He was moving towards him!

“Stay away from me!” the mayor yelled as he ran into a burning house and slammed the door shut.

The interior was ablaze as well but hopefully Deathstroke would leave him alone thinking the flames would kill him. But fate has a way of changing it’s course when we don’t want it to. Just as he stepped away from the door the area above it exploded, with Deathstroke in the middle of it! He landed and faced the mayor, even with the mask on him you could tell his face was in a snarl.

“Now for the last of you.” Deathstroke said coldly, raising an eyebrow behind his mask. “Ah, but wait! Your important aren’t you? Ah you’re the mayor aren’t you? Yes, yes you are. I thought you was missing from my body count”

He laughed and took a step forward. The mayor took a step back and tumbled backwards over a pile of debris. He quickly picked himself up and began to scoot backwards, trying franticly to distance himself from his assailant.

“Please leave me alone! I’ll do anything! I don’t want to die…! What did we do to you?” The mayor asked franticly. He was practically in tears.

“Shut up you coward!’ And with a quick slash with his gladiuses he cut out the mans vocal cords.

The tragedy in this was the fact that the man didn’t even realize that it had happened until his hot blood began to run down his neck. He griped his neck and tried to scream, but nothing came out, nothing but blood.

“Now I’ll humor you. One of your peasants tried to remove my mask. No one removes my mask!” And in a split-seconded he performed a powerful roundhouse kick that snapped the mayor’s head clean off of his shoulders.

Deathstroke shot forward and grabbed the mans head before it had gotten far from it’s starting place. And with his grizzly trophy he walked out of the house as it began to burn down to mere ashes.

It was nearly sunset. Deathstroke wanted to leave now. But first he had one last thing to do. He walked over to one of the carcasses of the town militia and picked up the spear. He then walked to where the tavern had once stood, now a smoldering pile of ashes with a fire still going in a few places where ample fuel was available. He drove the shaft into the ground and with all his might he shoved the mayors head onto the spear point. The point went threw the neck a cut threw the left eye. You could see the bloody pole threw the heads gaping mouth. Satisfied with his work Deathstroke did one last thing. With the blood on his swords he wrote on the taverns only standing wall, “Seleucus you have survived me to long. This is nothing compared to what I’m going to do to you. You will feel the wrath of my blades before the end. I guarantee it” With that he whistled for Shadow and rode off into the darkness.
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Seleucus and his companions had seen the smoke hours ago and had ridden like demons trying to reach the town. Yet when they got there it was a sight to horrible to believe. Mutilated bodies of people littered the ground the town was mostly burned to the ground but some parts of buildings remained standing. Seleucus couldn’t believe that anyone could do such a thing. He stopped just shih of the head of some unfortunate man. It was impaled on a spear. But something else caught Seleucus’s eye and horrified him more than anything else here. The message on the wall. He read it three times just make sure it was real and a fourth time to comprehend it. Then the voice came from the shadows.

“Seleucus I’m coming for you!” The voice seemed to make the air freeze.

“No it can’t be! Your dead! I saw you die! You cant be real you must be some sort of a…”

“Phantom? No. I live Seleucus and I will finish you!” With that the shadows engulfed him. Deathstroke’s laugh ringing in his ears.
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“NO!” Seleucus yelled as he shot up in his bed. Sweat was pouring down him. It was a dream, only a dream. Not but a few hours ago had Molon, his Somatophylakes and Diodorus rode up upon the remains of the town. When he and Molon along with the rest of the Somatophylakes arrived at the seen the sight was appalling. Every living thing in the former town was dead. And the grizzly sight of a mans head impaled on a spear didn’t help much. The Somatophylakes had said that it must have been a group of marauders, but Molon denounced that theory because, as he pointed out, there where no bodies of any bandits anywhere. Therefore it had been something else. Seleucus had then eyed the wall with the writing. But it was Molon that first realized what it had meant.

“Deathstroke is alive Seleucus. And he has sworn an oath in blood to hunt you down”.

[This message has been edited by Greek Master (edited 11-18-2006 @ 04:39 AM).]

I've finished Chapter 4. Please respond and tell what you think.