prologue
On the windswept Steppes of the Pontic Steppe, a King Surveyed the Carnage he had wrought. Eumelos I, Basileus of the Bosporan Kingdom had taken his armies across the Steppe in a bid to reconquer territories that had broken away during the destructive civil war he and his brothers had engaged in. He had reclaimed Tanais, Theodosia, Chersonesos, Neopolis, and Symbola, all of whom had broken away or supported one of his brothers in the Civil War. He had taken the City of Kerkinitis which had been independent up to that point and pushed on to take Kalos Limin and the Isthmus. He had reinforced the navy and stamped out piracy in the Euxine and generally brought prosperity in the wake of his armies.
Now, on the shores of the Meotis Sea, his veteran armies, swelled with Greeks and fighting in the Manipular Fashion* that had been adopted by his forefathers, stood poised to deliver a crippling blow to the Scythian Tribes that had refused to pay him tribute, and secure the Frontiers of the Kingdom for a Generation. He had picked his site well, and his army was encamped in a fortified position on one of the few hills in the area. The Scythians had charged the camp several times, their mounted archers loosing a volley and retreating and their lancers attempting to contest the fieldworks around the camp. They had been at it for days, but each charge saw more Scythians fall to Arrows, Javelins, or the deadly Iron Bolts of the Skorpios that studded the defenses.
Finally, it seemed the Scythians were poised for a massive coordinated assault. It was make or break for the Legions, for if they were swept away here, the Scythians would surely sweep down into Taurica and ravage the Greek Cities there. Eumelos rallied his troops, spearpoints gleaming in the sunset, armor well cared for and shining bright, ranks of theuros shields locked and ready to receive the charge. Archers behind them tensed as they drew arrows to their bows, skorpio crews waiting for the charge.
Suddenly with a loud cry the Scythians charged, their lancers charging up the hill under cover of arrow fire from the mounted archers. Few Legionaries fell to the Arrows, protected as they were by Chain Armor or Linothorax, with shields and earthworks interposed between them and the shot, but some still did fall. However it paled in comparison to what would happen when the scale armor clad Scythian Lancers crashed into the lines. Many of the Scythians fell to spearpoints, others fell to Skorpio Bolts or well placed arrows, however they were reaping a deadly toll on the Legions of the Bosporan King.
Eumelos himself fought on the front lines, to ensure his troops fought with courage and Discipline, his falcata rising and falling as he hacked and sliced at Scythians. It seemed like hours had passed, but it was perhaps a few score minutes before the charge began to abate, the Scythians retreating back down the hill in disorder. Eumelos was certain that they had more fight left in them, and could not place the reason they had fled, until a messenger arrived that night from the Scythian Camp, bearing offers of truce.
They said they would pay Eumelos Tribute and recognize him as Baselus, like the Scythians further west did, for their king lay dead before the Hill.
Thus with his Kingdom Secure and the fealty of many tribes of Scythians and Cities of Greeks obtained, did Eumelos march home to Panticapeum to make sacrifice to Ares and Athena for granting him victory. Along the way his horse was scared by something moving in the dusk light, but Eumelos was able to reign the beast in and arrived at his capitol in time for the Sacrifice**.
Eumelos I would become known as the Conqueror. It is with his victory over the Scythians that the Golden age of the Bosporan Kingdom Truly Began. . .
*Tacitus notes that the Bosporans Fought in Roman Fashion, which makes them the earliest adopters of Thorakitai and Manipular Formations in the Greek World
**The POD: While Eumelos managed to carve out a "Kingdom the Size of Lysimachus'" who ruled over Thrace, Macedon, Epirus, and Greece, it did not survive him being thrown from his horse on his way to make sacrifice after the campaign and dying, and several of the more recently conquered portions slipped away. Here he manages to reign in his horse and survives to solidify his rule.
Now, on the shores of the Meotis Sea, his veteran armies, swelled with Greeks and fighting in the Manipular Fashion* that had been adopted by his forefathers, stood poised to deliver a crippling blow to the Scythian Tribes that had refused to pay him tribute, and secure the Frontiers of the Kingdom for a Generation. He had picked his site well, and his army was encamped in a fortified position on one of the few hills in the area. The Scythians had charged the camp several times, their mounted archers loosing a volley and retreating and their lancers attempting to contest the fieldworks around the camp. They had been at it for days, but each charge saw more Scythians fall to Arrows, Javelins, or the deadly Iron Bolts of the Skorpios that studded the defenses.
Finally, it seemed the Scythians were poised for a massive coordinated assault. It was make or break for the Legions, for if they were swept away here, the Scythians would surely sweep down into Taurica and ravage the Greek Cities there. Eumelos rallied his troops, spearpoints gleaming in the sunset, armor well cared for and shining bright, ranks of theuros shields locked and ready to receive the charge. Archers behind them tensed as they drew arrows to their bows, skorpio crews waiting for the charge.
Suddenly with a loud cry the Scythians charged, their lancers charging up the hill under cover of arrow fire from the mounted archers. Few Legionaries fell to the Arrows, protected as they were by Chain Armor or Linothorax, with shields and earthworks interposed between them and the shot, but some still did fall. However it paled in comparison to what would happen when the scale armor clad Scythian Lancers crashed into the lines. Many of the Scythians fell to spearpoints, others fell to Skorpio Bolts or well placed arrows, however they were reaping a deadly toll on the Legions of the Bosporan King.
Eumelos himself fought on the front lines, to ensure his troops fought with courage and Discipline, his falcata rising and falling as he hacked and sliced at Scythians. It seemed like hours had passed, but it was perhaps a few score minutes before the charge began to abate, the Scythians retreating back down the hill in disorder. Eumelos was certain that they had more fight left in them, and could not place the reason they had fled, until a messenger arrived that night from the Scythian Camp, bearing offers of truce.
They said they would pay Eumelos Tribute and recognize him as Baselus, like the Scythians further west did, for their king lay dead before the Hill.
Thus with his Kingdom Secure and the fealty of many tribes of Scythians and Cities of Greeks obtained, did Eumelos march home to Panticapeum to make sacrifice to Ares and Athena for granting him victory. Along the way his horse was scared by something moving in the dusk light, but Eumelos was able to reign the beast in and arrived at his capitol in time for the Sacrifice**.
Eumelos I would become known as the Conqueror. It is with his victory over the Scythians that the Golden age of the Bosporan Kingdom Truly Began. . .
*Tacitus notes that the Bosporans Fought in Roman Fashion, which makes them the earliest adopters of Thorakitai and Manipular Formations in the Greek World
**The POD: While Eumelos managed to carve out a "Kingdom the Size of Lysimachus'" who ruled over Thrace, Macedon, Epirus, and Greece, it did not survive him being thrown from his horse on his way to make sacrifice after the campaign and dying, and several of the more recently conquered portions slipped away. Here he manages to reign in his horse and survives to solidify his rule.
