Sudanna

The Republican legions did indeed fight in a three-line checkerboard formation (called the manipular legion), arranged from least to most veteran soldiers and given different, specific armaments, for a while. But this changed eighty years before the fall of the Republic, with the reforms of Gaius Marius in 107 BC, which (among many other very important things) dissolved the distinctions between three different types of troops, standardized equipment and training, and ended the practice of three rotating lines to instead rely more on the commanding of individual manipoles reinforcing or relieving each other. This system would remain more or less the same until the reign of Diocletian around 300 CE, who had his own sweeping reforms. But no Imperial legion ever fought in the way you describe. Of note to this discussion is that legionaries were spaced six feet away from each other, to allow plenty of room for swinging a weapon - these formations were not usually extremely close unless things had gone very wrong and soldiers were being physically forced into one another, or they were directed to perform a specific maneuver like the testudo. The Roman military declined as the empire declined, but the Eastern Roman Empire/Byzantine Empire used legions in the style of Marius and Diocletian well into the 600s, long after the West had fallen. They were reformed away as the times changed, not lost. The Western Roman empire did collapse partially because of its inability to field a functional military, but not really because it got too hard to find land. Land was not even always a term of a legionaries service, especially later on, as the empire began to fight more and more defensive wars and fewer wars of conquest. Among other things, soldiering just started to look like a really hard, really dangerous, and really stupid career choice for Roman citizens, and the wealthy proto-feudalist estate owners did not appreciate their money-making peasantry being conscripted, literally hiding people or bribing officials for exemptions. Much like they did with taxes. But the decline of the Roman military is tied in many ways to the decline of the empire as a whole, and the decline of the Roman Empire is way too complicated for me to get into any more here.

This reminds me: I actually got my regular hours like two days ago, so I can fill out calendars from now on. Wednesday should be fine as long as we finish before eleven or so my time.

Polearms are also generally a lot slower and more unwieldy, especially in close quarters or confined spaces - or if you're in the thick of a battle with moving bodies pressing into you on all sides. Is the idea of a smaller, nimbler weapon with more functions that hard to grasp? Why do they still make pistols instead of only rifles?

I haven't calendared for the same reason I haven't calendared for TBS.

She can be the new Rentar-Ihrno. . .

Same deal as before. As far as I know, yeah, but it could change.

I find it more likely that Jeff would sell his company and retire at some point than keep it until he dies.

I remain in a state of limbo. As far as I know, I'll be good to make it, and it would be highly unsportsmanlike for them to change things before the 28th. Doing my advance now.

Even better.

I repeat: totally not worth it.

I have exactly that thing, actually! I don't have very much money, though, so meh.

Try it and find out.

I use the same password for everything, and that password is a single real word. Because I value convenience much, much more than I value "safety". I can deal with something bad happening every once in a while. Minor inconvenience that occurs every single day of my life, multiple times? More [censored] to manage and time to spend on "cybersecurity"? No. I simply cannot be arsed.

I have no idea. If I'm still (inexplicably) training then, I can make it. If I'm working the real hours but that's the half of the week that I don't work, I can make it. If I'm working the real hours that day I will almost surely not be up to anything afterwards. Sorry.

I'm afraid not.

I can't meaningfully fill out the schedule cuz I just started a new job and I'm in training for now and don't know when I won't be. Training is 7-3:30 six days a week, the actual job will be 6-6 three and a half days a week. So, uh, don't really have any forseeable schedule. Sorry.

There are two of them in the game.

People seem to like me more for it, at least. At some point, people started talking about my "vaunted wisdom" and "boundless understanding of the world". I'm not sure where that reputation came from, but I'll take it. My mayor even corrects his earlier incompetence. Perhaps sieges aren't that bad, I think. Then I gather my bodyguard, leave my tent, travel to the latrines shared by nearly two thousand soldiers, passing several men starving or dying of camp fever along the way, have my guards keep careful watch for traitorous heathen soldiers while I relieve myself, and return to my dirt-and-grit-floored tent, coughing from the endless cloud of dust along the way, Sieges suck. Thankfully, after his third holding falls, the Marzoban surrenders and flees his lands. Since every one of his vassals was an infidel, I gain direct control of all four holdings in the sheikhdom. I immediately appoint good Shiites to manage them, keeping the capital castle for myself. I am still far beyond the number of holdings I can effectively administrate on my own. I will have to find a good noble or two to raise to Sheikh, since my brother is also at the limit of his effectiveness. Meanwhile, the Abbasid Caliphate is in tatters, and the Tahirid Satrapy is nearly overrun. One step forward, two steps back.

Chapter 3: Easy Pickings All-told, the Alavid Emirate is able to field almost 1900 men. Raised from the local populace, most are infidel Zoroastrians, but they will do. Mostly heavy and light infantry, with a scarce few pikemen or archers, but a decent cavalry force. I assemble the army into three sections, with two unlanded courtiers, Maziar and Aghlab, taking command of the wings and myself of the center. Why or how Maziar and Aghlab chose themselves for command is beyond me, as there are much more qualified individuals in the realm, but they insisted they'd worked it out amongst themselves, and would not be dissuaded. I lack the legal authority to do anything about it, so it will have to do. We are unlikely to see battle anyways. My vassals are already grumbling about having their levies raised. We haven't even left the capital yet! The crops will not have withered and died in the scant few days we've taken them from their farms! Honestly. We reach the Marzpanate without incident and begin the siege of Wahsudan's castle. It's gonna take a while. Barring unforeseen circumstances (and hardly a siege goes by without a sally by the defenders or some traitor sneaking in food or bandits raiding our camps or disease breaking out on one side of the walls or another), it will take about eight weeks for the stores od the castle to run out. Then we can begin the siege of Wahsudan's city. And then Wahsudan's heathen temple. And then Wahsudan's other castle. And then we will definitely have won. The Marzoban may surrender before then, though, if he is considerate. I continue the business of ruling from the siege camp, in the meantime. My chancellor, Sa'daddin, has managed to convince Emir al-Aziz Dulafid, to my south, of some small measure of my worth as a human being. Perhaps he will avoid attacking me in the future? One can only hope. We win the first siege, and find an unexpected prize within. It seems that Wahsudan's wife was unable to escape the castle in time. I send a message to Wahsudan, promising the safe return of his wife in exchange for his surrender, but he is unmoved. I don't blame him I would be too. So, she goes into the dungeon. My steward, Mayor Jibril has been attempting to gather taxes in the capital. The peasantry (and the nobility, actually. . .) are eternally resistant to paying the entirely fair and reasonable taxes I demand. Especially the Jizya tax on non-muslims. And Mayor Jibril is no luckier than I have been in forcing it out of them. We conquer the city. I scarcely care to know its heathen name, but it is now in my control. We move on to the temple. The long period of camping around enemy walls is beginning to wear on me. More and more, I find the company of my officers and soldiers unwelcome. . . . . . but I do my best to combat my desire for withdrawal, and it passes. I find that forcing myself to endure the company of others has made it quite a bit easier to continue to endure the company of others.

The Marzpanate of Gilam is doomed. While I've been bringing my house into order, they've been trying (unsuccessfully) to capitalize on the current succession war in the Abbasid Caliphate. Caliph Al-Mu'tazz has died, and his sons have gathered allies and divided his empire in a civil war for leadership. At least three are vying for the title. However, even the suddenly divided emirs and sheikhs of the Caliphate are beyond the grasp of my lonely heathen neighbor. The Marzoban has sent off all of his meager levies, and they all died for no benefit. So, good news for me, my target can't even field an army! I declare the conquest of his single province. . . . except I can't. I do not have the 50 piety required to use the conquest casus belli. 50 piety is, for the record, nothing. Some children are born into the world with more than 50 piety. The infidel Pope in Rome has excommunicated people with more than 50 piety. That my subjects think so little of my devotion to Allah is insulting. But that's okay. We can still declare Holy War. [/img]http://i.imgur.com/nj7AAkY.jpg[/img] Much in the way that the Conquest casus belli allows the conquering of single border provinces, the Holy War casus belli allows the conquering of entire border emirates or duchies, if they are held by infidels. However, declaring holy war tends to draw the interest of other infidels. It can be a risky endeavor. However, since the closest Zoroastrian ruler to the Marzoban lies across the Caspian Sea, I should be alright. Why does conquest require more piety than holy war? I raise the levies. The vast majority are from my own holdings or from my direct vassals, with my brother providing only a pittance. I assemble them at the capital.

Abu-Bakr might be a member of our court, or he may have gone to our brother when we gave him one of Rostam's provinces. I haven't checked. Either way, I'm not trusting him with the Spymaster position. He could indeed be used against us just as we used him. I don't know if there are any events that involve buying dogs. Maybe they're a part of hunting. Sheikh Muhammad is kind, trusting, honest, and has a score of zero in Intrigue. I think we'll be okay. It's honestly not worth the trouble to kill Abu-Bakr, and it'd also be really difficult since he's so good at it. It's only eighty dollars on Steam for the game and all of the (pretty game-changing) DLC! Yay for sales. Our spymaster has an opinion of exactly zero towards us, making him neither trustworthy nor untrustworthy. He's also only about half as good at this stuff as Abu-Bakr was, so. . . yay for incompetence.

On the other hand (Hand, hah), burying all evidence of or reference to things is a very Avadon thing to do.

It's probably not the best idea to call it a reboot. There are a few elements to UtSS that we'd like to try again, but these are just suggestions for original worldbuilding.

Not only was it a failure, but an inn rigged to explode is rather difficult to explain as a coincidence. Sheikh Rostam does not take kindly to this plot. I will have to be wary of any retribution from now on. However, while my desire to see him dead is obvious, Abu-Bakr's complicity is apparently still a mystery, as he remains spymaster. I pray that his next plan is less exotic. Sheikh Rostam hated me already, so I guess it's not that much of a loss. . . My wife, meanwhile, has been asking for a new horse as a wedding gift. I, of course, choose the cheapest one, a withered old skewbald. What does she need a horse for, anyways? It's my money. She seems to like it anyways. And then Abu-Bakr sends word that he's going to try and blow up Rostam again, insisting that all that was missing from his last plan was copious amounts of incense. My doubts as to this man's "mastery of intrigue" are growing daily. However, this time it works. I can't help but make a pun at the news. Maybe this is what people mean when they say that I have "poor personal diplomacy"? Rostam's titles pass to me, and I immediately grant the poorer of the two provinces to my brother, whic hseems to have improved his disposition towards me immensely. Three sheikhdoms is beyond my ability to effectively administrate, and tax collection will suffer, but it gives me full access to all of their levies, which is far more important at the moment. Because, tomorrow. . . Holy war.

Chapter 2: It's Not Murder if it's an Infidel While the unexpected surrender of Sheikh Rostam was fortunate, I find it difficult to really appreciate him for doing so. It was, after all, a product of nothing but his cowardice. Still, to murder a man sworn to me, infidel or not, simply out of greed for his lands is a tremendous breach of the feudal contract. My court, however they feel about the infidel, would not look kindly on such an activity. Which is why it must be done in secret. I contact my spymaster, Mayor Ibrahim of Saltaniyeh, and have him travel to the infidel's court under the pretense of surveying my new vassal's lands. In reality, he is setting up a network of spies and enforcers in the province, trying to find anyone in Rostam's court that might want to see him dead or, failing that, preparing the way for the assassin I will have to hire. Rostam hopefully won't notice that "surveying my vassal's new lands" consists of skulking around in his court and having a lot of hushed, private conversations about him. It's only a few days after I sent him on this errand that Mayor Ibrahim returns, proclaiming that it's taken care of. Apparently, Ibrahim's true purpose was discovered almost immediately by Rostam's spymaster, Abu-Bakr Bakrid, a man infinitely more formidable at matters of intrigue than my own. Thankfully, Rostam has inexplicably put a Shi'ite Bedouin who hates him in charge of his spies and assassins, and Abu-Bakr had actually come to offer his support of the scheme. Abu-Bakr is not a man you want angry with you, it seems. He is humble and slothful, devoting most of his time to poetry, but has a powerful fury when roused, and is a master of lies and deception. Sheikh Rostam has earned that fury simply by being a craven foreign infidel, despite his diligent work ethic and sense of justice. His reverence of honesty apparently clashes with Abu-Bakr's lying nature, as well. Why Rostam put this man in charge of anything is beyond me. Ibrahim tells me that Abu-Bakr promised to see the plot through on his own. When I asked him why he thought Abu-Bakr could be trusted to not simply reveal our scheme to his liege, Ibrahim became very quiet for a while before saying that he found his counterpart very convincing. I suppose it's fortunate that Rostam's spymaster hates him, because my own is frankly no match. While waiting for Abu-Bakr to see the scheme through, I found myself at a loss for things to do, as I'm unwilling to engage in warfare without the full power of the armies available to me. I traveled for a day to my brother's court in Rayy, and had an. . . interesting discussion with on of his young courtiers, Shokouh. We are opposites in almost every way - She seems incapable of comprehending justice, she has no concept of the value of money, giving it out freely, and she seems to have no drive or ambitions at all, content where she is. I overheard several of her remarks, and when I moved to correct her, she began to argue! She must not have realized who I was. We soon escalated into a shouting match before the entire court! Grossly improper, perhaps, but I'm rather pleased with how it ended. I asked my brother if he would much mind the absence of this courtier. The court went silent, and Shokouh seemed about to faint, realizing that I was the emir, and doubtlessly expecting to be banished or worse for her impropriety. My brother simply stared at me in shock and shook his head dumbly. "Then," I said, "I will take her as my first wife." She seemed reluctant at first, but she'll come around. On the way back to Dailam, my fiance's horse breaks its leg on a treacherous mountain pass and she nearly falls to her death. Thankfully, I am on hand to rescue her. Her horse must be left behind, but this seems to have convinced her that I will make a good husband. When I return to my court in Dailam for the marriage celebration, it is to even better news. Abu-Bakr has sent word that he is ready to proceed with our plot. Abu-Bakr has been reading too many fanciful stories, but I suppose he knows what he's doing. A few days later, it turns out that I may be too trusting of Abu-Bakr's abilities. The snake will probably kill somebody, at least. Still, while a failure, at least we were not discovered. Abu-Bakr comes to me with another plan in a few days. First a poisonous snake out of Arabian Nights, and now an exploding inn? Whatever happened to a simple knife in the back? Still, I approve it, since he will at least find his stay over a pit of manure unpleasant. This turns out to have been a mistake.