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gridloreJust finished a game of Civilization. At one point, Hammurabi declared war on me declaring "Die, you gravy-sucking pig." Bad move on his part, as I quickly overwhelmed his force, and took Babylon as the final prize. That's when I got creative...
No Room for Just Desserts
Even in the depths of the Royal Quarter, the smell of Babylon burning could be detected. Victorious legionnaires had set to the serious business of looting, mindful of the orders to not disturb the Hindu temples of the conquered. Time enough to turn them to Judaism. Subati, Praefectus Praetorio and master of the Legions which had taken the city, had smelled enough burning cities to ignore the smoke.
"Ave, Lord Subati! You asked to me told when the victory feast was ready. We have time for you to change into more formal robes..."
Subati waved the praefectus castrorum off. "I will attend the feast in my armor. No need to change."
The camp officer blanched. "My lord...your armor, it is...blood-stained and your tunic has been burned! Surely, we can find some more fitting for this day of triumph in the baggage. Or perhaps the former king's own robes, wouldn't that be delicious?"
Subati turned in shock. "Do you honestly suggest I robe myself as a king and sit in a king's chair, all while leading most of Rome's army? You're a man of the palace--" And little else, the warlord thought. "--how do you think the Augustus would take that?"
If anything, the sweating officer's face got even whiter. "Of course not! No, the robes would be a terrible choice! Fool that I am to even suggest them, I beg a thousand pardons for suggesting it, my Lord General!"
"You get one. It comes with a warning to think before speaking. Have the crafters finished the special project?"
"Yes my lord, they used the frame of a damaged trebuchet. Everything is in readiness."
-:-
It was easy to tell victor from vanquished, Subati thought as he scanned the courtyard where the feast was well underway. Roman officers were drunk on wine and victory, stuffing themselves and laughing. The Babylonian nobles, on the other hand, were either sitting rigidly with forced smiles and eating the minimum to be polite, or sulking darkly, shooting glares at the Romans when they thought they could. Time, Subati thought, to make an end to any thought of rebellion. He nodded to the barrel-chested eunuch standing beside him.
"ALL WILL BE SILENT AND ATTEND TO SUBATI! SUBATI, CONQUERER OF KISH, SUBATI, MASTER OF THE LEGIONS, SUBATI, LORD OF FALLEN BABYLON, SUBATI, FEARLESS LEADER OF THE XXXVITH LEGIO SCLOPETIS!"
No need for speeches here, just get to the point. "Bring forth the man, Hammurabi." From a small gate came six legionnaires pulling a two-wheeled cart. Strapped to it was the former king. His beard had been hacked off, probably for souvenirs, but he was otherwise unharmed. Everyone began murmuring when they saw a large funnel had been forced into the king's mouth and strapped to his head. The troopers moved the cart to the center of the courtyard and stepped aside.
"Now, the Imperator's instrument of vengeance." From the main gate came one of the army's trebuchets, but the throwing arm was missing. Instead, a large copper kettle was at the top, with a canvas hose leading out of a valve on the side. An iron dish held burning coals under the kettle. The auxiliary troops pushed the ungainly affair directly over the now-struggling figure on the cart. The troops nodded to show that all was ready.
"Hammurabi, deposed as king and forfeit of all lands, know this. Your decision to attack Rome has destroyed your nation. Babylon is no more. Your line is no more. Your lands are now in the hands of the Roman Empire, and your people will be Roman citizens, with all the rights and protections of that status. But you, lord of nothing, had to insult the Emperor in your letter of war. You wrote, in your own barbaric hand, 'Die, you gravy sucking pig.' The Master of the World feels it is only reasonable to end this war with a similar set of words. So, from His Majesty comes this: 'Die sucking gravy, you pig.'"
The soldiers opened the valve. The kettle had been full.
No Room for Just Desserts
Even in the depths of the Royal Quarter, the smell of Babylon burning could be detected. Victorious legionnaires had set to the serious business of looting, mindful of the orders to not disturb the Hindu temples of the conquered. Time enough to turn them to Judaism. Subati, Praefectus Praetorio and master of the Legions which had taken the city, had smelled enough burning cities to ignore the smoke.
"Ave, Lord Subati! You asked to me told when the victory feast was ready. We have time for you to change into more formal robes..."
Subati waved the praefectus castrorum off. "I will attend the feast in my armor. No need to change."
The camp officer blanched. "My lord...your armor, it is...blood-stained and your tunic has been burned! Surely, we can find some more fitting for this day of triumph in the baggage. Or perhaps the former king's own robes, wouldn't that be delicious?"
Subati turned in shock. "Do you honestly suggest I robe myself as a king and sit in a king's chair, all while leading most of Rome's army? You're a man of the palace--" And little else, the warlord thought. "--how do you think the Augustus would take that?"
If anything, the sweating officer's face got even whiter. "Of course not! No, the robes would be a terrible choice! Fool that I am to even suggest them, I beg a thousand pardons for suggesting it, my Lord General!"
"You get one. It comes with a warning to think before speaking. Have the crafters finished the special project?"
"Yes my lord, they used the frame of a damaged trebuchet. Everything is in readiness."
-:-
It was easy to tell victor from vanquished, Subati thought as he scanned the courtyard where the feast was well underway. Roman officers were drunk on wine and victory, stuffing themselves and laughing. The Babylonian nobles, on the other hand, were either sitting rigidly with forced smiles and eating the minimum to be polite, or sulking darkly, shooting glares at the Romans when they thought they could. Time, Subati thought, to make an end to any thought of rebellion. He nodded to the barrel-chested eunuch standing beside him.
"ALL WILL BE SILENT AND ATTEND TO SUBATI! SUBATI, CONQUERER OF KISH, SUBATI, MASTER OF THE LEGIONS, SUBATI, LORD OF FALLEN BABYLON, SUBATI, FEARLESS LEADER OF THE XXXVITH LEGIO SCLOPETIS!"
No need for speeches here, just get to the point. "Bring forth the man, Hammurabi." From a small gate came six legionnaires pulling a two-wheeled cart. Strapped to it was the former king. His beard had been hacked off, probably for souvenirs, but he was otherwise unharmed. Everyone began murmuring when they saw a large funnel had been forced into the king's mouth and strapped to his head. The troopers moved the cart to the center of the courtyard and stepped aside.
"Now, the Imperator's instrument of vengeance." From the main gate came one of the army's trebuchets, but the throwing arm was missing. Instead, a large copper kettle was at the top, with a canvas hose leading out of a valve on the side. An iron dish held burning coals under the kettle. The auxiliary troops pushed the ungainly affair directly over the now-struggling figure on the cart. The troops nodded to show that all was ready.
"Hammurabi, deposed as king and forfeit of all lands, know this. Your decision to attack Rome has destroyed your nation. Babylon is no more. Your line is no more. Your lands are now in the hands of the Roman Empire, and your people will be Roman citizens, with all the rights and protections of that status. But you, lord of nothing, had to insult the Emperor in your letter of war. You wrote, in your own barbaric hand, 'Die, you gravy sucking pig.' The Master of the World feels it is only reasonable to end this war with a similar set of words. So, from His Majesty comes this: 'Die sucking gravy, you pig.'"
The soldiers opened the valve. The kettle had been full.
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Date: 25 Mar 2014 02:43 (UTC)no subject
Date: 25 Mar 2014 12:23 (UTC)no subject
Date: 4 Apr 2014 02:50 (UTC)