Movement into Macedonia

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Paraetonium, Aegyptus
Fortunus’ Legionary Camp
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The wind howled with ferocity, as unusual storms shook the land of Aegyptus, on a cool day in late spring. This sort of weather was uncommon at that time of year, in a land which was far from accustomed to monsoon-like torrents. Fortunus Julianus stood in his praetorium, looking over the words which had just been written from Rome.

Marius Vitellius had ignored Fortunus Julianus’ threat, and moved the entirety of his force to Cisalpine Gaul. Just weeks before he had marched south, and captured Rome.

Slowly, tears began to well in Fortunus’ dark eyes, as he placed his hands on his clean-shaven face. Just two months before, Pertinax Veno had been killed. Now, Fortunus’ other mentor, Tacitus Disius, lay dead. The Proconsular Legate’s mind swirled with a thousand treacherous thoughts.

Quinus Vitellius had sent the Proconsular Legate a letter, offering him clemency if he would only submit his arms to Sabaco. The politician offered no explanation for his verbal assault on Fortunus, only suggesting that he would allude to it later.

Deep within the soul of Julianus, developed a tiny red hot flame, which burned away at his patience and calm. More men, whom Fortunus had trusted and loved, were dead. Still more men whom he had once cared for as comrades, had turned their backs upon him.

The universe became very dark for the general, on that day. It was as though his boyish eccentricities melted away a bit, as his heart developed contempt for men who would do such bitter business upon the ones he loved.

Romulus Fortunus Julianus slowly began to strap on his battle regalia.

He had had enough.

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Rousing the Crowds,
Fortunus and His Men
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The rain cleared, as Fortunus Julianus climbed atop an elevation which overlooked the entirety of his army, the size of which was so grand that it seemed to stretch off into oblivion. Looking to the sky as he spoke, the Proconsular Legate smiled as he caught sight of a lone eagle, which circled in the heavens above. “We are greeted today by visitors from the heavens,” shouted Fortunus, pointing to the sky above his men.

The earth seemed to shake as a wave-like effect sifted through the eighty-thousand man force, as soldiers began to look to the sky. The bird was sighted by the men that day, as their commander began speaking with a confidence which they had not heard in months, it seemed. “Brothers, the Senate turned its back on us, years ago. They refused you pay, food, and water. They refused to acknowledge your duties to the Empire. They treated each of us with contempt, and claimed we were enemies of Rome.

“It is today, brothers, that I tell you that Rome and the Senate are not one and the same. The Senate, is a conglomeration of old, rich men,” said Fortunus. “Men from a class which I no longer identify with.” A pause graced the air, as the commander slowly unstrapped his helmet.

“I stand amongst you, as one of you. We are kin. We are the same. It has been my resolve, in these months and years, to offer you pay, food, and as much comfort as this unforgiving landscape allows. We have fought together, and watched our family and friends die. We hold memories. We hold bonds, which go from this world, to Elysium.”

Fortunus bowed before his men, and slowly outstretched his palms, facing them toward the sky in an odd gesture which the commander had repeatedly shown to plebs and provincials all over the Empire. Now, for the first time, he was gesturing in such a way before his men, as he looked upon them with saddened eyes. “It is here, that I ask that you smile upon me, and follow me on our last great crusade,” said Fortunus.

The legions had been bored over the months. Anticipation of war had been much less intense in this corner of the Empire, as opposed to the western portions, and Italia. Thus, the prospect of once again returning to Europe and engaging in activity was an exciting thought to many of the warriors.

“Our great city has been torn from us,” said Fortunus, as he slowly reared his neck toward the sky. With lids closed, Fortunus could still feel the intensity of the sun’s light, beating upon his eyes. The men watched with curiosity, as it appeared their commander was appealing to them, and some mysterious god above, simultaneously. The land was quiet, as the lone eagle screeched, in the air above.

Slowly, Fortunus opened his eyes, and witnessed the glory of the sun, as it wavered behind thin cloud cover. The commander uttered more words, as he watched the orb. “I can feel the presence of our deities, watching us,” said Fortunus. “Our city has been taken in treachery, by that barbarian, Marius Vitellius.”

“The entirety of the Senate has been arrested,” said Fortunus. “The most notable of those men who deemed us unworthy, are doomed by Marius’ sword.”

The men began to mumble, as Fortunus returned his gaze to them. He held out his hands in appeal, and began to speak with such emotion that it roused response in even the most reserved of soldiers who could hear. “Do not think of those men who you have never met,” said Fortunus.
“But picture your wives, your children, your progeny. Imagine what may fall upon them. Marius does not understand you, and will never presume to. He has marched over law, order, and all clemency I have shown him,” said Fortunus.

Slowly, the commander began to smile, as he saw his men respond with fervor. “It is here, on this day that I ask you to follow me to victory, so that we might relieve our beloved city, and country, of this disease which is attempting to choke the lives out of our families!” exclaimed Fortunus. “Let us liberate the true Rome!”

With that, he offered a salute which so roused the men that the Great Pyramids shook, so many miles away. Dead Pharoah and Ptolemy alike was awakened, to observe the excitement of the massive army. Or so it seemed to Fortunus…

Suddenly, in the eruption of applause, and noise, came chanting from the private legions under Fortunus. “Imperator, imperator, imperator, imperator,” they shouted. Quickly, the chanting spread to the veteran imperial legions, which rested under Fortunus. Within several moments, the entire landscape was alive with ecstatic atmosphere, as 80,000 men shouted their approval for Romulus Fortunus Julianus to stand as Emperor.

On that day, as the Proconsular Legate offered more salutes to his men, and officers, he looked upward at the sky. Some say that something changed in his expression, as he saw a figure in the clouds which appeared to him as Alexander. Standing over an earth shaking army, and believing to witness such divine apparitions, Fortunus Julianus lowered himself to the earth, to express his humility before his men and the gods above.

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Later that Night
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Candlelight flickered wildly in Fortunus Julianus’ chambers, as though the lares themselves were dancing around the body of the Proconsular Legate. The commander breathed heavily as he wrote, as he concentrated on the right words to be portrayed to the King of Seleukia.

Fortunus licked his lips, and scratched at his side. He felt deep anxiety, for his life, for the well-being of Rome, and for the future of the entire world. The commander thought of the adventures of Achilles, Hector, Aeneas, and Alexander and his ink dried on the page with each world scratched.

Several moments passed, and all that could be heard was the breathing of the commander as he concentrated on his documents. Suddenly, the doors to his chamber opened, as a courier rushed in with a pair of guards who followed him closely. “A letter from Seleukos, my lord,” said the young man.

Fortunus thanked the courier, and studied the royal seal of the House of Seleukos. Opening the letter gingerly, the commander smiled to himself as he thought of the man whom he had considered an enemy just several years before. Fortunus read the Greek’s words, in silence. Raising his eyes from the document, he immediately called out to his guards.

Several of the men entered the room at the call of the commander. Fortunus stood up from his chair. “Get me Varus,” said Fortunus. “I have to get in touch with the Aegean League.”

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Four Weeks Later
Port of Paraetonium
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The harbor was busier than it had been in centuries, for the entirety of the Classis Misenium, Fortunus’ private fleet, and ships sent from Seleukia sat in the harbor, taking aboard soldiers. The Proconsular Legate stood next to that famous eastern commander, who nodded to him with a half-smile. Circumstances were now different, for they were working together. The traumas in Rome had not only disturbed the Latin sections of the world, for a ripple in a pond effects all shores.

“You have brought quite a force,” said Fortunus. “Thank you for your assistance.” Troops from legions V, XVIII, IX, XIII, and XIV were assembling to board ship in the hours of the morning. Simultaneously, Seleucid troops were boarding their own vessels.

His companion nodded. “I see that you have not done a bad job of maintaining yourself through all of this. You have quite an army to reckon with.”

Fortunus looked to the forest of masts, as the noisy sounds of the harbor seemed to give the small settlement of Paraetonium the feel of a metropolis. Slowly, the commander turned back to the Greek. “Marius Vitellius is a menace, and you will certainly enjoy the coming battle,” said Fortunus.

His companion laughed, as several of the foreign aids followed suite. “Much Roman blood will be spilled, no doubt,” said the Prince. “I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t enjoy every moment of it.”

“As little as possible, so long as I can destroy that bastard, and stand over his body as he greets the ferryman,” said Fortunus, as seagulls laughed in response, overhead.

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The Southern Aegean Sea
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The waters south-east of Achaea were an otherworldly blue, attracting the most mysterious of creatures. Passing Rhodes, the fleet slid into the Aegean. Men onboard the ships of the Classis Misenium would stretch and struggle to look overboard at the dancing dolphins, as the ships moved ahead at fierce speeds, heading north. It had been a long trip, as the fleet moved from Aegyptus along the coastline of Asia, with the consent of the Seleucids, and finally to the heart of Western Civilization.

The ships passed dozens of rocky islands. Each Hellenic island held its own small sets of villages, complete with colorful rooftops and busy harbors. It seemed as though even the most remote island was touched by the glory of Greece, as the fingers of civilization stretched into the most remote corners of the Aegean seascape.

Fortunus Julianus felt enamored with the beauty of his surroundings, as his ships began to move farther and farther north. On the third day after entering the Aegean, the fleet entered the broad channel which lay between the islands of Ikaria and Naxos.

On that day, men began to holler in alarm and anxiety as they witnessed the approach of an immense fleet. Signals immediately rang out from the flagship, to others which patrolled the area, alerting all officers to calm worried sailors. “The banners of the Aegean League and Pergamum,” muttered Fortunus, as he witnessed a great mast approach a harbor which rested on Naxos. “So the meeting begins.”

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Naxos
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And so, Fortunus and Seleukos greeted the Paramonos, whose fame had spread throughout the entirety of the Greek speaking world. The Proto-Archon of the Aegean League was a man of power, who governed great forces within the greater Empire, as well as the friendship and support of the Kingdom of Pergamum. As the Empire slipped further and further from decentralized control, the Aegean League had taken great steps to safeguard the entirety of Achaea. Hearing of the dangers of sailing into the Aegean without authorization, Fortunus offered contact and requested permission from the authorities of the League.

Paramonos smiled courteously at his guests, and offered them a seat. “It is a pleasure to have such important characters here, before me,” said the Proto-Archon. Without missing a beat, the official got right to the point, as wine was brought into the room and served. “I hope you were not offended by our parameters,” said Paramonos.

“Not at all,” said Fortunus. “We realized there would be some parameters to our use of your territory during the coming weeks and months,” said the commander.

Paramonos nodded. “Most importantly, we need to be allowed to receive family members from both of you,” said the Proto-Archon, with a serious expression of business, “and all of your notable officers, down to the rank of centurion.”

“Yes, we were alerted to this fact earlier,” said Fortunus. “I trust that my wife and children will be treated with respect, as will the loved ones of all my men?”
Paramonos nodded slowly, and said, “Of course. They will be our guests.”

He then turned his expressionless gaze over to Seleukos. Slowly, he nodded, and responded in Greek. “And my second in command will journey with you, in safety, to Athens,” said the Seleucid.

And so the agreement had been made, between Fortunus and those of the Aegean League. Paramonos was very polite. “Go as you will, Proconsular Legate. We shall not detain you, a leader of the Romans. You will find Poteidaia to be hospitable,” said the Proto-Archon. “Recall that you may not march farther south than the Aliakmon River. You may stay in Macedonia until the entirety of your force is together, with the arrival of your chief of staff and the remaining legions.”

After three days of rest, the troops were allowed to re-board their vessels, and head northward, to the peninsula in the northern Aegean off the which the city of Poteidaia called home.

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One Week Later
Poteidaia, Macedonia
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The wind was fierce, on that day, as Fortunus Julianus stepped foot onto European soil for the first time in over a decade. Slowly, the commander bent down, and grasped the earth, for all soldiers and officers to see. “The Aegean League is now our friend,” said Fortunus, to those who were around. “We are on the righteous cause, to bring liberty to Rome. Let us complete the work we are in.”

Wandering through the streets of the city of Poteidaia, the Proconsular Legate dismounted his horse, and offered open arms to the populace who had journeyed to get a view of the famous Proconsular Legate. Fortunus made no direct mention of events back in Rome. He was still waiting for some information to arrive regarding the situation in Italia.

Still, however, the crowds watched, and waited. Finally, after a great procession to the Forum of the city, the commander came upon a platform. Patrician commander, who had gone from rogue to the possible savior of Rome (in his own eyes), stood, staring back at an attentive populace. Silence fell over the place as the Roman prepared to speak.

Within an instant, a voice cried out from the crowd. “The gods smile on Fortunus, the savior of Rome!” Did the voice belong to an enthusiastic citizen, or an agent of the Proconsular Legate?

With that, the crowd began to chant, cautiously, the name of Fortunus Julianus. The commander only offered a salute, and a tearful expression. As the cheering quieted, Fortunus developed a serious gaze, and shouted the words, “Roma Victrix!”

And so, the crowds of lower Macedonia welcomed, at least outwardly, the arrival of Romulus Fortunus Julianus and his five legions. They were, however, greatly concerned about the possibility of war on their own soil. It was also rumored that the coastal Macedonians feared the presence of the Seleucids. Truly, the Eastern royal house was of Macedonian origin, but centuries of separation divided the two nations.

Meanwhile, Tranquillius Varus stood in command over legion XXIX Rapax, and Fortuna Victrix I and II. After the sailing season returned, he would be en route to Macedonia, to join the rest of the greater force.

Civil War had been brought to Rome.

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Results: Romulus Fortunus Julianus has moved legions to Macedonia. Several months will pass before the remainder of his force arrives in Europe.

By: Romulus Fortunus Julianus

AD 71