A Red Sky Rising

[Icerex]

Terra Nostra

​

Year 2506 AUC

​

This world had only a few stark events that has led to the current political climate that differed from our own.


In 9 B.C. the Romans won a smashing victory at Teutoburg Forest, putting an end to the Germanic menace.


Forty years later, in the city of Jerusalem, a Roman proconsul named Pontius Pilate was convinced by his wife to spare a man named Joshua Bar Joseph.


On the Arabian peninsula, a quick-thinking Roman investigator puts a stop to the ballistic rise to power of an Arabian warlord with a covert assassination, bringing the province back under firm Imperial control.


In the Americas, or the continents of Trianius and Remus as they are now called, horses and cattle followed humans across the Bering land bridge, bringing both a means of fast travel and a readily-domesticated food source. Both of which are essential in forming an empire.


Last but not least, is an evolutionary anomaly in the form of dragons, or the Draconion, plural, and Draco, singular, as they are known. Lizard-like creatures which stand on four powerful legs and possessing a set of wings, they are a sight to behold and are held in reverence in many cultures. They are widely used in battle, mostly by the more powerful nations as Draconian are somewhat rare and expensive to raise and keep. Each geographic region has their own unique race of Draco, from the smaller, nimble Leaseh of the Amazonian jungle, to the larger and powerful Forjmå of the Scandian north.


All these events lead to the world in its current state, a world both advanced and primitive, innovative and stagnant.





It is now the year 2506 AUC (1753 AD), the Roman Empire, or Imperium Romanum, is the dominant force in the world. It stretches from the sands of Arabia to the moors of Britannia, bringing all under one banner. It is the center of cultural and political discourse, and its military is the finest in the world.


To the north, the Scandian warlords and Jarls, along with the remaining free Germanic nations, have banded together in a loose federation in order to combat the ever creeping tide of Roman rule.


The wide open steppes are home to the semi-nomadic nations of Volga and Kirghiz, who engage in endless skirmishes with the Herculean Holy Order, a client state of Rome, and their foremost ally in the region.


The Indian subcontinent is a mess of warring city-states and warlords, kept safe from invasion only from the fact that it would be too much of a hassle to subdue them at the moment.


The Korean Empire comes the closest in rivaling the might of Rome, using its influence and wealth to keep the buffer-state of Persia well-armed against the Roman threat.


In the New World, the Aztec and Incan Empires reign supreme, with the smaller northern nations alternating between warring with each other or banding together in an uneasy alliance to ward of the threat of the Aztec, Mayan or Roman incursion. The Romans have established a foothold on the continent of Traianus, the provinces of Iroquoii and Hadrianus making up the majority of their holdings.





Religion in the Roman world is mix of various barbarian beliefs and the core Hellenic traditions and pantheon.


The Nordic faith of Forn Sidr holds dominant sway in the north, with some Druidic practices brought over from Celtic refugees. The Tengri faith is followed by most steppe cultures, although Confucianism has begun to take root in some of the eastern tribes, brought back from contact with Korea.


The Nahuatl rites are at the forefront of Aztec religion and politics, and human sacrifices are still alive and well in the empire. A fact not lost on most Romans.

 

[Icerex]

Marcus~


The wind lashed at the taut guy-ropes, setting them humming with a deep vibration. The salty ocean spray mixed with rain swept over the deck, making sure those laboring out in the open on the wooden deck where soaked to the skin. The massive, brooding thunderheads could be seen in the distance, lightning illuminating the distant shapes of other ocean-going vessels spread out in a large formation.


This is going to be a big one Marcus thought to himself, pulling the cowl of his leather hood further over his head. He stood on the deck of his trireme Aquila, counting the seconds from the last flash of lightning to the matching roll of thunder, mentally judging how soon till the storm would be upon them. It will be nice when we don't have to rely on the wind for movement, I wonder when those steam-ships will be approved for testing. He motioned for a nearby officer to step forward. "Yes sir?" The young, dreary-eyed centurion saluted, trying to keep his cloak about him while maintaining proper form. "Centurion Cato, order the men to stand down and get some rest and a bite to eat before the storm hits, we'll need every hand fresh and able when it does. I'll be in my cabin" The young officer nodded and turned on his heels to go carry out his task, he kept a hand on the rail of the quarterdeck stairs as he did however. Marcus smiled to himself as he retired to his cabin, memories of days long past flashing through his thoughts.





"REEF SAILS AND PREPARE TO TACK WINDWARD!" The shout went up, the burly centurion doing his best to be heard above the elements. The deck of the Aquila heaved as she abruptly bit into the wind, masts and rigging swaying under the gale-force of the tropical storm. Men shouted and pulled on ropes, others clinging to the rigging as they finished reefing the main-sails, waiting for the order to let them out again. The massive ship heaved on its side, turning into the wind as the helmsman spun the wheel to the left. "DROP SAILS!"


The great spans of treated canvas fell and where immediately filled with the strong wind. They rode the great gusts for a few hours, then the storm dissipated and they emerged out into the tropical sunlight of the Equator. The Alpina highlands could be seen in the distance, and Marcus quickly estimated how far they had drifted off-course. The rest of the fleet slowly emerged from the storm and the shadow of a Flyer passed over the deck of the ship. Must be a report on the state of the fleet, Marcus thought as he raised his hand to shield his eyes from the harsh rays of the sun. The thud of a landing Draco heralded the arrival of the Flyer on the specially-made landing platform built into the deck of the Trireme. They soon arrived on the command-deck and the figure saluted sharply, fist to chest. Marcus returned the salute and bid the soldier to make their report. The Flyer was dressed all in close-fitting black and red leather, with a leather hood and mask of black canvas set with a pair of crystal goggles. Interestingly enough, this particular Flyer had painted their mask to look like the skull of one of the dreaded northern Forjmå. It lent the figure a surprisingly fierce look, and Marcus smiled to himself. That smile quickly turned to a surprised grin as the Flyer removed their mask and hood in one smooth motion. "Why Legate Aurelius, you've let yourself go since we last met, they must serve good food here on the Aquila."


The smirking Flyer tossed her short-cut hair in a rebellious flick. Possessing a slight build and standing at 4' 11'', any observer would find it hard to believe that this woman haled from the Germanic provinces of the Empire, a place renowned for their tall and fearsome worriers, and was a full-blooded German. But one just had to look at her striking green eyes and pale-blonde hair to see her heritage. "Centurion Yarai Freida, I didn't know you where attached to the fleet. When did you arrive?" Marcus replied, still grinning. "Just before the storm, I set off from Mons Calpe a few weeks ago and just tracked you fellows down yesterday. I waited till we left the gale to deliver my message." Yarai pulled a small scroll from a pouch at her belt and handed it to Marcus. He turned it over in his palm and noted the seal in the middle. "From the Imperial office, this must be it then." He motioned for a waiting marine and instructed him to feed and berth the Centurion's Draco, then beckoned for Yarai to follow him to his quarters.

 

[pyreshadow]

Tamyasisa
​

"There, there, hush now." The man laying on the bed had a hard time focusing on the soft voice near him. His breath was ragged and shallow, his hands clenching the thin bed sheets so tightly his knuckles were long past white. Tamyasisa neared him slowly, her eyes traveling down to where the gaping wound on his abdomen and chest were. Claw marks. He had been hunting for the village it seemed and ended up being the one hunted. He was lucky to have survived as long as he had with the kind of wounds on him. Or perhaps he was more lucky that Tamyasisa had just so happened upon this village hidden away in a forest. Either way, she already knew that if he wasn't taken care of swiftly things wouldn't bode well for him. Shifting her gaze to the woman trembling in the doorway, Tamyasisa eyed her up and down before shaking her head softly.


"You should not be in here. When I am finished, and only then, will it be fine for you to come in once more. Make sure the children do not enter either." Tamyasisa spoke in the same tone she used on the man moments before. It was only when the woman didn't move that she had to turn to send a strong glare towards the other. The woman let out a soft gasp of shock before quickly closing the door behind her. It wasn't that Tamyasisa didn't want someone to watch what she did, it was just what she did wasn't exactly going to be a very good thing to see. Letting out a small sigh, she walked over to her large alum tawed sheepskin lined with linen and started pulling out what she would need. A couple of small jars, one containing tumeric and the other containing a honey and animal grease mix as she wasn't sure which yet to use on the wound. A couple of yarrow leaves as well as bandage wraps to keep the leaves in place were then pulled out along with flax thread and a needle. The very last thing she needed was already near the bed, something that the man would need to drink more of if he wanted to stay as calm as possible. She brought the items over to the bedside and knelt down to rest in front of it on her knees. She could see the fear in his eyes of what was going to happen so gave him a gentle smile.


"Now is not your time. Drink and rest. You will be with your family soon enough." Tamyasisa promised as she lifted the bottle of alcohol to his lips so he could down a couple of large gulps. When he gave her a nod to show he was ready, she poured some of the alcohol over the wounds before getting to work quickly. For the amount of moaning and groaning the man did while Tamyasisa stitched his wounds shut, he knew how to keep himself still so she wouldn't make a mistake. It didn't take her long at all to get each cut closed before she lathered them up with the honey and animal grease mix. Once it sat for a few minutes, she covered them up with the leaves first and then wrapped his chest and abdomen with the bandages. At this point, the man had passed out so she had to make sure to be quiet as she gathered the items she didn't use to put back in the pouch. The very last thing she did before leaving the room was set lavender next to his head to help with his sleep. "How is he? He's going to make it, right? Please tell me you could save him, Shaman." Tamyasisa was bombarded with questions the moment she left the room and shut the door behind her. Not only was the woman -likely the wife- standing there puffy-eyed but the two children were as well.


"Fear not for his life, he is in no immediate danger. He just needs rest now and to make sure he does not do anything to open those wounds again. Here." As she spoke, she dug into the pouch once more to pull out the small jar of tumeric. "Change the bandages in the morning and the evening and when you do, apply this around the wounds. It will help with the pain and the healing. Trust me, it will not be long before he is up and about once more." Tamyasisa gave the woman a gentle smile before setting the pouch over her shoulder and leaving the small hut. Most were the same: small, dingy huts that housed several people when it looked like it could only house three at most. Seeing as that was the only problem here, Tamyasisa went to her chocolate brown horse and tied the pouch to its saddle. She could hear the woman calling out for her so that she could give her something but she still hoisted herself up into the saddle. "Whatever it is, keep it. I will pray to the Gods for a swift recovery for him." She bowed her head to the woman before lightly kicking the horse's side to leave. She knew without any doubts he would be fine, it was just a lot of blood that seemed like it was worse than what it actually was. She knew when Supay was near to collect and now just wasn't that time. With one glance over her shoulder to see the fading village, Tamyasisa turned her focus back to what was ahead of her. Her life wasn't the greatest as she didn't get the chance at a normal life like most but it was worth it to her. The travel, the way she was helping those around her when she could, it warmed her heart to be able to do such things. It was hard to see it at times but she was content with how things had ended up even if she resented being taken from her family when she was young. It was an honor she had grown accustomed to.

 

[Icerex]

Marcus~


The creak of wooden timbers and the calls of working sailors drifted in through the cracked windows of the cabin as Marcus tapped absently on the writing desk with his index finger. His brow was creased with concentration as he stared absently at the unfurled piece of parchment held in one hand before him. He sat in a modestly-sized carved wooden chair, its legs bolted to the floor like every other piece of furniture in his cabin, with Yarai sitting, cross-legged on the other side of the desk.


"It's bold, I'll give them that." Marcus spoke and tossed the piece of parchment down on the desk, running a hand through his hair as he did so. "The 9th and 21st will be in on this as well I take it?" Yarai nodded back in affirmation, and Marcus gave a grunt of amusement. "I'd never thought I'd be working with Legate Janus again, much less against the Incas." He grew silent for a moment. "This is big Yarai, bigger than the Iroquoii uprising, and that was backed by the bloody Aztecs!" Marcus got up as he spoke and walked over to the open window looking out through the stern of the ship. He stood there, hands clasped behind him as he gazed out at the sea. Yarai came to stand beside him, and she spoke, eyes looking ahead at the rolling crests of the waves. "I have faith Marcus, faith in the Empire, and the Imperator." She brought her fist up to her chest in a small salute as she mentioned the Emperor. "And," her face grew into a devilish smirk. "I have faith in my Flyers, and The Herculean." Marcus' eyebrow rose at that and he glanced over at Yarai with a questioning look. She gave him a self-satisfied smile. "Oh, didn't I mention? a full detachment of Herculean has been assigned to this operation. Under your command." Marcus gave a small shake of his head in bewilderment. "Forget what I said earlier, this is bigger than anything since the Succession Wars if they are willing to commit a full compliment of Herculean to something outside of the steppes." Yarai nodded in agreement and turned back to studying the dark water.........








Two weeks later, near the Ianmian isthmus (Panama).


Strong winds blew down from the north, lending the invading fleet an added advantage against their opponents. They where spread out in line of battle, a screening line of light ships, followed by the medium Triremes and the few larger Quadriremes. The transport and supply ships brought up the rear. A few scout flyers glided overhead, keeping an eye on the fleet and signalling enemy ship movements. The defenders did not seem to have any air support of their own.


The invaders, or the Romans as it were, outclassed the defending Incan fleet in both numbers and tonnage of ships present. That did not mean however that the coming landing would be easy, far from it. The Incas had a reported 20,000 soldiers spread all over the landing site and isthmus, as well as a multitude of irregulars and local civilian conscripts. They lacked in regards to artillery, but they had been able to put together a rather impressive fortification system in the short time they had known of the invasion.


The Romans had just under 15,000 men, consisting of three legions, the 4th, 9th and 21st and their attached auxiliary and cavalry cohorts. A cohort of Imperial engineers and the Herculean detachment made up the rest of their forces.





The boom of cannon fire and the rattle of musket shots filled Marcus' ears. Smoke was thick in the air and the acrid stench of gunpowder was everywhere. "Fire as she bears men!" The call went up as the ship swung on its beam, bringing its left side around to face the enemy vessel. Rippling cannon reports went off in a rolling volley as each gun was brought to bear on the target as the ship turned. The ships where now only a few hundred feet apart, and small-arms fire was beginning to take its toll. Imperial marines took turns sniping at their enemy counterparts from behind the wooden breastworks of the ship, and the impact of musket shot sent splinters darting through the air. The Incan battlecruiser had just finished reloading, and her crew ran out their guns, the gleaming snouts protruding from the gun ports cut into the ships side. They fired in one massive volley, although not with the full compliment of guns, as a number had been knocked-out by the Romans. Nevertheless, the destruction was considerable. Jagged splinters flew from the impact of the iron shot, some the size of a mans torso. Screams tore through the air, and Marcus ducked as a number of impacts hit the command deck. He wiped blood from his face as he stood up, seeing the helmsman's decapitated corpse stretched out on the deck. The wooden timbers where slick with blood, and the sluice-channels ran red, the dead and dying all around.


A cry went up from the enemy ship, and Marcus's blood went cold. The ululating sound of an Incan boarding party could be heard, and Marcus shouted at a group of nearby marines to prepare to repel boarders.

 

[pyreshadow]

Tamyasisa
​

Time slipped by as it always did, day by day. All the traveling kept Tamyasisa on her toes so to speak so having a day like the current one was a rare feat in itself. She had gone far to the east, making her way to the coast to see how some of the villages fared over there. The first couple she had come across along the way were rather prosperous in many ways. The land around them was rich, the animals plentiful in way of hunting as well as what was tamed. It was a pleasant change to see a growing village instead of one that seemed to have one problem after the other. That was what the village she had visited the day before ended up being; a sickness had taken the lives of two families so she had to work as a psychopomp to make sure the spirits of those who lived good lives went to the sun as they should. The unlucky ones, well their place was right to the cold, desolate underworld. Most that did wrong in their life happened to beg Tamyasisa when they were on the verge of death; beg her for a second chance, tell her how they had wrong and wanted forgiveness. None of which she could give but she listened to try to ease their passing. That was what had happened during her visit to the last village and that was exactly why she was doing what she was doing currently.


Though the sky was dark and foreboding, Tamyasisa lay on a grassy patch of earth staring up at the sky. Her horse was grazing beside her and she was just enjoying the day for what it was. A rare thing for someone like her but it brought about not only a calmness for her but a secret pleasure as well. Gazing up at the sky and watching the clouds pass by overhead just just gave her a comfort in a way. A whinny from her horse brought her gaze to look the beast over then immediately to the direction he was looking. A group of older men, women, and children were walking at a fairly decent pace towards the forest leading away from the coast. The children seemed openly fearful, some women had tear-streaked faces. Not one of them looked back and that brought about a growing concern in her. Tamyasisa was quick to roll over to her feet while grabbing her walking stick in one fluid motion. The horse's reigns were taken in her other hand before she walked over to meet with the group. The first few ignored her in favor of staring at the ground as their paces picked up. It was an older woman that stopped when she noticed Tamyasisa looking them over.


"Our homes are no longer safe on the coast, young Shaman. The Romans have come with their fleet." The older woman's voice was shaky and broken, indicating she had been crying and was more than just scared. The fear of what might happen to herself as much as what would happen to their lands was evident all over her features. "They are attacking?" Tamyasisa asked an obvious question but one that held the surprise in her tone. It shouldn't have been a surprise though, peace never lasted for very long. "You should get some place safe as well and steer clear of the coast. Best to stay as far awa- hey! It's rude to interrupt an old woman when she's speaking. Where are you going?! That way isn't safe!" Even though the woman was now shouting after Tamyasisa, she had other things on her mind. If there was a battle, then that meant there was much death and even greater injured. If there wasn't someone to at least give the dead a proper send off, then they would all end up somewhere they might not belong. She was quick to get onto her horse and kick his sides to get him to start off at a fast gallop. There were many that stared at her for where she was heading but none did anything more than that. It didn't take long for her to come across the battle even from where she was along the cliffs. She stared out into the sea where the battle was fierce, cannons firing loudly even from where she was.


Tamyasisa shook her head slightly before starting to focus on clearing her mind; the only thing that she repeated to herself was her intent to help the spirits of those that had fallen cross over. Slowly she pulled out her drum and the stick, all the while keeping her focus solely on her intent and nothing more. After a moment, she began drumming a steady, metronome-like rhythm as she knew the sound would be heard by the spirits; it acted like a bridge -or perhaps a tunnel- in which the spirits used to pass through. Each strike was firm yet gentle, seeming to even get louder to the point where it was the only sound that she heard. It sung and hummed above the roar of the battle and cries of the men from both sides both in the physical world and the spirit world. Tamyasisa could feel it in her very core when each spirit passed, one by one in a seemingly endless cycle.

 

[Icerex]

Marcus~


Marcus thrust his short-sword into the soldiers gut, twisting as he pulled it free. The Incan coughed up blood and dropped to the deck. No other assailants where near and Marcus was able to catch his breath for a moment. He wiped the blood and sweat from his forehead and took a swig of water from the leather flask at his belt. The sun beat down on the two interlocked ships, grappling ropes and harpax shots connecting the two ships together in order to allow the crews of both ships to conduct their bloody business. Marcus looked around at the deck of the Aquila and saw that his crew had dispatched the last of the enemy boarding party. His own boarders where busy on the enemy vessel, cutting-down the last of the enemy ships armed resistance, having cornered the captain and his bodyguard near the stern. A cheer soon went up from the deck of the Aquila as an Imperial battle standard was suddenly raised over the mast of the Incan warship. She had surrendered.


Marcus smiled to himself as the newly-captured vessel, now under command of a centurion from Aquila and crewed by a skeleton crew of Roman sailors and legionaries, cut the restraining cables holding the two ships together and started making its way to the back of the fleet.


The rest of the action was going just as well, with the majority of the Incan heavies having been captured or pummeled into irrelevance by the combined weight of Roman cannon-fire. A few scattered enemy ships here and there still resisted, but now the way was clear for the transports to move up, and the real battle to begin.





The rattling of musket fire could be heard coming from the thick stands of palm trees and dense tropical vegetation. Marcus ordered a squad of Parthian auxiliaries to spread out and secure the forest, then sent a detachment of cavalry along with a battery of horse-drawn artillery to set up on a nearby rise.


The landing had gone better than anticipated. Resistance was weak, and the three legions were able to disembark with minimal casualties, pushing forward and establishing a beachhead, as well as securing the nearby town as a command post. That was where the other two Legates where stationed, but Marcus preferred to lead his men from the front, as he felt he could get a better feel for the battle. And currently, his instincts were crawling. The enemy commander, whoever they were, had been playing a most interesting game. They refused to commit to a major engagement, instead preferring to harry is advance parties and issue small hit-and-run strikes. It was surprising, given that the Incas outnumbered them, but stalling for time and letting even more friendly forces join him was not a bad plan either.


Marcus nudged his horse forward with a tap of his heals, moving up to the front of the column. He passed the formation of marching Herculean, the hair on the back of his neck rising. There was something about them that Marcus, on the few times he had come into contact with the Herculean, could never quite get used to. The grim soldiers were covered head-to-toe in black and red scaled armor, with black close-fitting crested helmets. The helmets, instead of being open-faced like the standard legionary helm, had a sculpted face mask, lending them a decidedly impersonal look. Marcus thought they looked like a troop of living statues, inhuman and deadly. He shuddered and kicked his horse into a fast canter, quickly coming to the head of the moving column.

 

[pyreshadow]

Tamyasisa
​

The battle was a decisive one but not for her own people it seemed. The Romans were a powerful force not to be reckoned with, even if the Incas put up a valiant fight. In the end it mattered little and Tamyasisa had tired herself out with the amount of guiding she had done. She leaned slightly forward on her horse, breath heavy as her eyes stayed fixated out to sea. Many had already fallen but it was far from being over. This was just the beginning of what going to come and from here it was likely only going to get worse. From here, the Romans would bring their ships to shore and try to wipe out the opposition. She'd heard stories of the previous battles from warriors she had helped heal but that was all they were to her; stories. Seeing it up close and personal like this didn't sit very well with her. Taking a small breath, the Shaman pulled on the reigns lightly to get her horse to turn away from the cliffs. Within seconds, he had started at a slow gallop and gradually picked up speed along the way. She did what she needed to do and though there could still be more, she wasn't going to stick around to see it through. She happened to value her life even if it didn't always seem like she did.


Her horse didn't get very far before he stopped dead in his tracks with a whinny, lifting onto his hinds legs. An Inca warrior had run from the near forest to apparently wave her down, more breathless than she felt. A shield made of copper and wood was in one hand while an axe made of copper and stone was in the other. Like most of the warriors that saw battle up close and personal, he was dressed in strong protective armor; a hardened copper chest apron with hardened leather and cotton on the inside to make it easier to wear. Copper tibia protectors as well as arm protection and a copper helmet with a few brightly colored feathers. "What is the matter with you, jumping out in front of a horse so suddenly." Tamyasisa spoke in a scolding manner as her hand ran through her horse's mane to calm him down. Her eyes traveled down to the blood covered man, instantly wondering if it was his blood or the blood of another. At this point he was muttering something about praising the gods for his good fortune for coming across her. After the quick over, she realized he himself wasn't the one injured so she brought her gaze to meet with his.


"I didn't mean to...I'm in a hurry, there are a number of us in need of healing. The gods have given me a blessing to run into you; please give them your guidance, Shaman. I have to speak with the hunu kuraka about what's going on. Make haste in the direction of the heart of the forest and you'll come across some of the others. They will take you to the injured." He didn't even give Tamyasisa the chance to say anything in return as he had began to run off before getting his last words out. The man could sprint, that much was certain as it had only taken him a couple of minutes to disappear from sight. Another sigh fell from her lips while her eyes glanced to the side to view the forest. Giving her horse another pat along his mane, Tamyasisa lightly kicked his sides so that she could do as the warrior had suggested. It was out of the question to leave this area knowing there were those in need of help, especially if they couldn't care for themselves and those around them couldn't. The trot itself didn't take long at all and as soon as she was close enough, a group of warriors had her horse surrounded with spears aimed at her.


"Do not be so jumpy, I was asked to come heal the wounded." Tamyasisa spoke calmly as she reached out to move the blade of the spear away from her. There was a quick talk among the group before they lowered their weapons and made a motion for her to follow. To make things easier, she dismounted her horse and grabbed her bag and walking stick to bring with her. "Stay here, all right? I'll be back soon." Tamyasisa spoke quietly to the horse before turning to quickly follow in the direction of where the men were going. It reeked of blood and death where at least a dozen wounded lay, some unconscious and others groaning from the pain. She was certainly going to be in for a long day it seemed.