this is the tale of Seymour the great, written by the most devout Ibn Sayeed Abu Allah, prince of Rome.
it is the year 690 by the reckoning of the Arabs. a dire year, a year that has brought forth the end of our noble empire, through the hands of a traitor. Yes, i call the great Seymour a traitor. why, do you ask? well, let me tell you his tale.
as his brother, Igor, was mercilessly put to the saber, for no real reason, Seymour has plotted his revenge upon the evil arabs. how to go about this, he pondered?
i would join thier army, incognito. as they always need more swords, i will rize swiftly in the ranks, and when the time is right, i shall sell the battle plans to the Roman legions, ensuring the desdtruction of the arab troops in Rome!
so Seymour joined one of the arab crack cavalry regiments, set to act in the ongoing roman jihad.
seymour spends a feew years ransacking the odd roman village, gaining prestige, for he truly was a great general. by 694 he commanded his our regiment, and by 697 he has command of a cavalry army. soon he thought, i could strike at the heart of the filthy arabs.
that year, some disturbing news reached his army. news that if acted upon by the arabs, would surely cost him his revenge.
the french have completed a grand theater in Paris, and a huge trading depot in the prosperous city of Orleans. that meant greater power to the dogs, and a greater chance that rome shall not survive long enough to fulfill its destiny.
up until this time, Seymour is a traitor only in his dark heart, but now begins his true evil.
in the year 700, with abrilliant sneak attack by his elite ancient cavalry, the city of Pompeii is taken. the cost was horrific aswell, for Seymour had delayed the arrival of the cat battalion, with the excuse of "logistical problems". the result - two complete regiments slaughtered at the walls of Pompeii. maenwhile, a valiant upcoming leutenant Hassin Rashid, manages to offset the disater and take the city of cumae with only 10 dead horses. never has such a victory been witnessed!
it is now 703. the public, is extremly happy with the wars progression, and combined with the heavy investment in libraries, temples and scholarship, the people become much more cultured, and bringing in to the fold of the empire lots of new land. this trend lasts until 710.
in 710 the Ottomans and the French sign an Alliance to wage whole and complete war against the romans. Seymour sees the end, but cannot abandon his plan. that same year, he recieve the tiltle of Supreme Horse of Rome. a title that gives him command over all of the roman front.
he uses these troops to attack Rome, but sends a trusted underling. a certain Brutus Maximus, to rome beforehand, with the battle plans. he also repeats his "logistics" problem. the result is one of the direst losses in arabian history. 4 whole regint of our holy Ansars are slain in an ambush, while another 3 are almost lost (redlined).
as a reaction to the terrible news, a new massive project is undertaken in Mecca. a glorious war academy, where warriors can learn the stroies and legends of war becoming more valiant and ferocious. this, it is hoped, will bring out the best leaders out of the troops.
it takes reinforcements a few years to amass at the gates of rome, and at the lucky 720, the city falls to the ravaging horsemen.
seeing his revenge gone, seymour cannot keep it to himself, and recruits a few generals, loyal to him. his plan - to sack Mecca!
but, luckily for the empire, his "friend" Brutus Maximus, is a secret musilm, and confesses the plan to the secret police.
seymour is apprehended, sentenced and beheaded within hours.
you may call him Just, Villain, Martyr, Loving brother. all would be correct, but the result is shame to all warriors. a warrior that would sell out thousands of troops just to avenge a single death, however unjust cannot be forgiven.
Syemours name has been stricken form the official rosters, according to the new Epic War plans of indoctrination.
only one last this remains of this warlike genius.
a map. a battle map.
a map for the destruction of the horrid french.
dripping within our grasp.
