Showing results for "Digital Media" in Ancient

Und fortan hielt König Totila Hof zu Rom herrlich und in Freuden. Des Krieges schwerste Aufgabe schien getan. Nach dem Falle von Rom öffneten die meisten kleinen Festungen an der Küste oder im Gebirge des Apennin die Tore, nur wenige mussten belagert und erobert werden. Dazu sandte der König seine Feldherrn aus: Teja, Guntharis, Grippa, Markja, Aligern, während er selbst zu Rom die schwere, die staatsmännische Aufgabe übernahm, das durch langjährigen Krieg und Aufstand zerrüttete Reich zu beruhigen, neu zu ordnen, beinahe neu zu gründen.

Im Lager angelangt, fand König Witichis alles in höchster Verwirrung; gewaltsam riss ihn die drängende Not des Augenblicks aus seinem Gram und gab ihm vollauf zu tun. Er traf das Heer in voller Auflösung und in zahlreiche Parteiungen zerspalten. Deutlich erkannte er, dass der Fall der ganzen gotischen Sache die Folge gewesen wäre, hätte er die Krone niedergelegt oder das Heer verlassen.

Das Schiff lief an und die Zöllner kamen mit ihren Tafeln in der Hand an Bord. Auf dem Kai bildeten römische Soldaten ein Eisengitter um den ungeheuren Pöbelauflauf, der den ganzen Platz zwischen der Stadt und dem Hafen ausfüllte. Es war ein Haufen in Lumpen gekleideter oder nackter Männer und Weiber - von denen mehrere an den schlaffen Brüsten Säuglinge hielten - mit abgezehrten Mienen, brennenden, eingesunkenen Augen und knöchernen Armen, die sie drohend erhoben, während von allen Seiten her die Rufe erschollen: „Brot, Brot!”

Die gotischen Knechte und die römischen Sklaven waren beschäftigt, die Arbeit des Tages zu beschließen. Der Mariskalk brachte die jungen Rosse von der Weide ein. Zwei andre Knechte leiteten den Zug stattlicher Rinder von dem Anger auf dem Hügel nach den Ställen, indes der Ziegenbub mit römischen Scheltworten seine Schutzbefohlenen vorwärts trieb, die genäschig hier und da an dem salzigen Steinbrech nagten, der auf dem zerbröckelten Mauerwerk am Wege grünte.

Savage Birthright is the plight of Princes, usurpers, and those who inherit the burdens of powerful fathers. When extortion draws Alerio Sisera to an Illyrian capital, the Legion officer finds an old adversary who needs his help, a poison kiss from a masked woman during a street festival, and a city full of people who want him dead.

Vor 14 000 Jahren im hohen Norden Kanadas: Durch dramatische Ereignisse haben Kasan, Naali und Barik ihre Clans - Zhoh, den Wolfsclan, und Shih, den Bärenclan - verloren. Der erbarmungslosen Natur, dem Hunger und der unerbittlichen Kälte ausgesetzt, kämpfen die drei ums Überleben, aber auch gegen die wachsende Eifersucht und das Misstrauen untereinander. Ohne Naali, die Seherin, die mit den Tieren sprechen kann, wären sie längst verloren.

The line of war elephants scattered the lightly armored Velites. In retreat, the skirmishers filtered through the Legion ranks. Not that it made a difference, but the First Maniple wore heavier armor and grasped bigger shields. But like the Velites, the Legionaries were no match for the enormous beasts. Tusks capped with bronze tips swung, defining the width of destruction expected by each Century. Archers on the backs of the animals launched arrows into the Legion ranks. Legionaries fell from the arrows, were pulled back and off their combat lines. Those were the lucky ones.

The Legion is a machine of war. When the gears are turning, those not in sync with the machine get pulverized in the cogs. Most of the time, it's the enemy. Unfortunately, for Lance Corporal Alerio Sisera, the gears have political and egotistical parts that are just as sharp as gladius blades. Caught in the wrong place by vindictive officers, he is sentenced to a session on the punishment post and is badly injured. Wounded and disgraced, he must now save the same Legion that sentenced him to the harsh discipline.

The tide of soldiers washed over the Legion shields. Buried, the ranks of Legionaries sagged. "Push!" the Legion NCO yelled. Welcome to 264 B.C. Over the grunts and cries of men struggling against the mass of bodies pressing down on them, the Optio bellowed again, "Push!" And the Legion shields rose, rolling back the tide. The higher the shields, the more soldiers slid off, and the straighter the Legionaries stood. One shield tilted back, and a mercenary soldier tumbled behind the ranks. An infantryman stepped back and drove his blade between the soldier's ribs.

In the seven years since he crossed the Alps and began his war against the Roman Republic, Hannibal Barca stood unbeaten in battle. However, maintaining a large army was a costly proposition and the government of Carthage proved stingy with its coins. To intercept the supplies destined for Hannibal, the Senate of Rome stationed Legions in Iberia. But, when the Legions were destroyed by Hannibal's brother and their Generals killed, the Senate could not find a willing replacement. Enter one Tribune who hungered for the position.

Welcome to summer 258 B.C.

Welcome to the spring of 258 BC. The expanding war with the Qart Hadasht Empire is changing the Republic's military supply structure. Supplying scattered Legions and far-flung naval squadrons is overextending the provincial quartermaster system. Growing awkwardly to handle the needs, the military organizations are evolving, slowly. Now evil men have found a way to profit from the disorganization.

Welcome to 259 B.C. By law, all debts must be paid by the Ides of March. For men like them, sharp steel was the only acceptable currency. Unless something changed, one would emerge a winner and the other the guest of honor at a funeral. Blood payment might not have been the official objective. But it would not matter to an enraged Alerio Sisera as he clutched a gladius and held a temple voucher aloft.

Infantry tactics at a sea battle offer dangerous options. Run the boarding ramp into the tips of the enemy's blades. Or fall into the gap between warships. Welcome to 260 B.C. Death waits at both, but if you make it to the enemy's deck you have a fighting chance. With the sea, you are doomed by the weight of your armor as soon as you splash down. There is another option: Be the first Legionary to board an enemy ship. You might surprise and disrupt the Empire soldiers. And win medals and accolades. Or you might die as an unjust sacrifice.

The heart and life of a battle is the center of the combat line. A dark, throbbing, and terrifying place. A place where death prowls between enemy shields, waiting for sharp blades to carve out an advantage. Welcome to 262 B.C. A single Legion is rushed into combat to stop a fortified army. The clash between Empire and Republic thrusts thousands of Legionaries into a nasty epicenter of conflict.

Welcome to January 263 B.C. Attacking a pair of long spears with his short dagger was going to hurt and add to Alerio's collection of combat scars. And only leave him injured, if Fortuna smiled on him. If not? That's why he prayed to the other Goddess. This should have been the easiest, most luxurious duty a heavy infantryman could ever imagine. It didn't turn out that way and, at the moment, he regretted throwing the spear. These are the adventures of Alerio Sisera, Corporal of the Republic's Legions, Weapons Instructor, experienced Raider, Combat Rower, and protege of a Roman Senator.

"Jealousy is but one road to the preordained," Hektor offered. "Are you a seer, now?" Alerio challenged. "No, sir. I'm a youth who worries about how you're being treated." "Colonel, we're all apprehensive about what fate their jealousy is driving you towards," Centurion Pelle added. "I've sworn a Tribune's Oath to a God and a General," Alerio informed them. He tugged the crested helmet down over his head before saying. "We can sit with bowls of camp stew and talk about our feelings later. Right now, I have a battle to win." Welcome to 255 B.C.

Once the Carthaginian forces were removed from Iberia, the reinforcements and supplies for Hannibal Barca dwindled to a trickle. Even so, Hannibal held onto the southwest quadrant of the Italian peninsula and remained a danger to the Republic. Although made rich from his conquests, the architect of the victory in Iberia retreated to Rome.

It's been said, "You may not think you're at war. But a surprise attack by an enemy means they are at war with you, so you'd best prepare." Metaphorically, the same can be said of an apprentice of war. There was no doubt, Hannibal Barca was a master of war. Since he came down from the Alps and swept away the Roman Legions sent to stop him, he proved it to Rome and to the rest of the ancient world. Yet, from the first engagement on Republic soil, Hannibal attracted an apprentice.

Alerio neither rushed Phobos nor reined him in. Rather, he allowed the animal to move at a steady pace towards the Consuls' headquarters. Senior Tribune Sisera could have delayed the retribution, but honor demanded the killing take place before sunrise.