[BTS] Wars of the Gods: Carthage

[Gruekiller]

Welcome to Wars of the Gods: Carthage! WotGC (for short) is a narrative AAR which focuses on the Immortal Hannibal and his efforts to lead an empire - even as forces all around conspire against him. The game's settings are unmodded BTS on a Continents map with 18 civilizations.

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UPDATE 1: CARTHAGE | UPDATE 2: TO MADRID | UPDATE 3: THE SHAMAN
UPDATE 4: THE FIRST COUNCIL | UPDATE 5: UTICA | UPDATE 6: DANEL
UPDATE 7: WAR! | UPDATE 8: CONSTANTINOPLE | UPDATE 9: THE SPANIARDS
UPDATE 10: ON THE ROAD | UPDATE 11: BETRAYAL | UPDATE 12A: THE BATTLE FOR MADRID (PART 1)
UPDATE 12B: THE BATTLE FOR MADRID (PART 2) | UPDATE 13: IN DREAMS | UPDATE 14: HERESY
UPDATE 15: IMPERATOR PHOENICIORUM | UPDATE 16: SEA LEGS | UPDATE 17: THE SECOND COUNCIL
UPDATE 18: THE TEMPLE | UPDATE 19: THE FEUDAL PERIOD | UPDATE 20: THE GREAT SOUTHERN CRUSADE
UPDATE 21: DAR AL-ISLAM | UPDATE 22: DARKER TIDINGS | UPDATE 23: TO NEW HORIZONS
UPDATE 24: THE ABYSS

Wars of the Gods: The Sequel (Civ 6)

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PROLOGUE​

They travel the universe alone, soaring across countless light years in the blink of an eye, using their incredible power as they see fit. Many call them gods. Some call them elders. Some say that they're alien space bats. But they prefer to simply call themselves Immortals.

It has long been a hobby of the Immortals to interfere with the matters of mortals, making civilizations rise and fall, guiding the way that entire cultures shift and change. Usually Immortals get along well, playing by the rules, and avoiding conflict. But there have been a few occasions in their long, long history, in which for some reason or another one Immortal came to blows with another. This often results in the destruction of entire civilizations, entire planets.

We begin our story with an Immortal who found himself in just one of such conflicts. He had been tending to another world, a distant, watery place dominated by island chains, helping a civilization called "Irish" along its way to glory. It had walked on the world's two moons, mastered fusion power, even found the secrets to interstellar travel. And then his enemy had come... The destroyer of worlds.

Many other Immortals had fallen to the destroyer. None knew why the destroyer hated his own kind so, why he loathed all life, why he took such glee in eliminating all that he could set his eyes upon. All they knew was that he was a threat to the Immortal way of life - indeed, to all life.

So now this other Immortal, who had shepherded the Irish to glory, only to lose them to the destroyer's malice, fled across the cosmos, seeking out a place to hide. At last, he found it. Orbiting a main-sequence, yellow star. One astronomical unit from its star. 24,000 miles or so in circumference. A world covered by somewhere between 50 and 80% water, with many arid landmasses, large and small. And here, too, human civilization was beginning to take root.

And so he descended to this world, finding a Punic tribe upon one of the many landmasses. Taking upon a human form, he became their leader, and led them to settle their first city - Qart-Hadasht.

This Immortal had many names. But here, he was Hannibal.

Spoiler :

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[Gruekiller]

UPDATE 1: CARTHAGE​

Carthage was located atop a series of hills, which linked two long strips of land. Together with these two strips of land, the hills formed a peninsula which jutted into the Great Northern Sea - which was itself filled with many frozen islands - from the eastern of the two great continents. Carthage itself was rather pleasant in the summer, but could be bitterly cold in the winter. There was little to protect it from the cold winds of the north, save for the cape of land to the west. The northern harbor froze in the winter, and could only be used in the summer, but the southern one was in warmer waters, and was usable year-round.

The land around the city was mostly taken up by arid plains and cold, evergreen forests. The land was, generally, poor for agriculture, but some of the lands to the south of the peninsula and in its northeast could potentially sustain crops. Hannibal thought that he had also seen crops of rice in the distant south, and horses and cattle not far away from Carthage. But all of this was in the future. He was observing this as he stood, arms clasped behind his back, on the balcony of his palace in Carthage. It was at the highest point of the city, situated upon the tallest hill. From here, he could see everything in the city.

This would be the capital of the greatest empire this planet would ever see, he reflected to himself.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps: his foreign advisor, a woman named Elisha. "Your Highness," she bowed, "the scouting party you sent out has returned, and has found something interesting." Hannibal gave a nod of assent. "Send them in, then."

A group of several people entered. He recognized most of them, the main body of the group being several of the warriors who had been sent out to scout. They were armed with simple clubs, and clothed in the thick clothes need at this time of year in Carthage. At the head of the group, next to the leader of the scouting party, was a woman, darker-skinned than any Carthaginian, and dressed in elegant, colorful robes. She was flanked by two guards of similar skin tone, also bearing clubs. The leader of the Carthaginian party saluted Hannibal with a fist on the chest. "Sire!" he proclaimed. "A delegation from a place called India!"

Spoiler :

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Hannibal nodded in greeting to the strangers, and, to everyone's surprise, started speaking in the Indians' language. "Greetings to you, people of India. Tell me, from where exactly do your people hail?"

The diplomat blinked her eyes once, surprised as anyone else by Hannibal's linguistic abilities. "Our land lies to the southwest, along the Bay of Indus, which faces into the western sea. Our land is surrounded by green forests and jungles." She glanced back to her Indian escorts, who seemed a bit uncomfortable. "Needless to say, far warmer than Carthage." Hannibal rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Make yourselves at home in Carthage for now, and take in the sights, if you would like. I'm sure our people will be great friends in the future."

As the Indians left, Hannibal looked to the leader of the scouting party. "What is your name, soldier?" The man saluted Hannibal again. "Hiram, sir." Hannibal scanned the man for a moment. Yes, Hiram seemed every inch a leader. "I have another job for you, then, Hiram. It will be dangerous... But if you succeed, you shall be greatly rewarded."

 

[Gruekiller]

UPDATE 2: TO MADRID​

Hiram wiped the sweat from his brow. How long a journey had it been? Three months, by his count. A thousand miles at least. Glancing back at the rest of the Carthaginian party, he could tell at least some of them were reflecting on the same thing. The trek south had cost the lives of a dozen or so of the expedition's men. They'd variously died from thirst, from exposure, from attacks by wild animals. But their mission was not yet done, and they would not return home to Carthage without completing it.

The terrain between Carthage and whatever gods-forsaken place this was had quickly turned from cool and pleasant forests, just south of the peninsula on which the capital was located, to arid wastelands, highlands, and deserts which stretched for as far as the eye could see. Great mountains towered often in the distance, their snow-peaked caps reminding them vaguely of home's more chilly climate.

Hiram frowned, interrupted in his thoughts, holding up a fist. The rest of the party halted, immediately hefting up their weapons and glancing around - they'd been trained for combat well. Despite limited human contact, Carthaginians had been born warriors since their distant, ill-recorded past, living off of the land and fighting to survive. "What is it?" one of the hunters inquired. Hiram glanced around warily. "I'm getting a feeling. Something is not right."

"Over there!" one cried, pointing down the dune into the distance. Hiram squinted against the harsh sun, trying to identify the object moving swiftly towards them. After a moment or two, he could see it more clearly. "A lion," he noted. But as the beast drew closer, he could tell something was wrong. The beast was moving towards them very quickly, a mean and hungry look in its eyes - which glowed bright red. So the legends were true. "A demon!"

The group of men steeled themselves, readying their weapons. The lion was bigger than a horse, a true giant of the cats, but where other, lesser men may have fled, Carthaginians stood to fight. They were made of sterner stuff. The lion pounced through the air with frightening agility for its size, colliding with one of the hunters. It tore into his arm, thrashing him around as he screamed out in pain.

The others stood, shocked, for a moment, but regained their senses soon enough, charging forward at the beast, striking it with their clubs. The weapons had little effect on the lion's thick hide, and it turned on the group, leaping at Hiram. Thinking on his feet, he stumbled backwards, drawing out his knife, and plunging it into the demon's throat.

The animal dead, Hiram ran to the side of the man who had been the lion's unfortunate victim. "There is nothing we can do for him, Hiram," one of the others said. "I'll be damned if I leave him here to die," Hiram snarled. He hefted the young man over his shoulder, trudging onward. "There must be some place nearby where we can heal him."

Whether through chance, or the party's impressive navigational skills, Hiram was proven right the next day, as they crested a hill, to see Madrid: the capital of the Spanish Empire, which would one day soon be the holy city of Buddhism.

Spoiler :

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[Gruekiller]

UPDATE 3: THE SHAMAN​

Hiram was standing by a pillar in what he was told was a temple. The stoneworking skills of these Spanish were truly an interesting craft, one he'd have to inform Hannibal of when he returned to Carthage. He sighed, shifting uncomfortably in the stifling air, and glanced to his left, where his injured comrade lay on some kind of altar. Around him were a trio of cloaked men, shamans of some kind, who chanted in Old Hispanic as their healing magicks mended the injured Carthaginian's wounds. Carthage had had its own shaman in times long past, but the arts had been lost about the time that Carthage had been founded. This would also warrant looking into.

"He should be fine soon," a voice said, "but you'll find that the magicks have... altered him slightly." Hiram looked with a blink, to find Isabella, the Queen of Spain. He bowed low in deference to the Spanish monarch. "Your Majesty," he greeted her.

Isabella nodded to him in return. "And greetings to you, Hiram of Carthage." She glanced over at the altar. "The use of magic upon normal people has been known to, on occasion, cause strange side-effects. This is a rare occurance. Most of the time, when people have magic used upon them, there is no side-effect. But think of this as an allergic reaction of sorts. The High Shaman tells me that your friend may be suffering from this." Hiram frowned, troubled by the vagueness of the Spanish monarch's words. "What are these... side effects?"

"The use of our healing spells upon him has rendered him magic-sensitive," Isabella replied. Hiram raised an eyebrow, wondering if his understanding of Spanish was at fault. "Magic... sensitive?" he inquired. Isabella nodded. "Yes. He is now capable of training in the magic arts. Though he would need other shaman to teach him how to use these powers." Hiram blinked in disbelief. "We can't leave him here in Madrid to train with your shaman, Your Majesty. He has to return to Carthage with us," Hiram said.

"Precisely," Isabella replied. "Which is why, as a sign of our good will, we will be sending one of our own back to Carthage with you to train him there."

"We are... greatly honored!" Hiram bowed.

"... But. On the terms that Carthage will agree to a pact of non-aggression with us," Isabella continued. Hiram blinked, unaware of what would cause the Spanish to request such a thing. Carthage had never waged war upon anyone, and hadn't done anything to warrant suspicion from anyone, much less the Spanish, with whom they were newly acquainted. "May I ask why, Your Majesty?" he asked. Isabella shot him a rather strange look. "Let's just say, I'm familiar with your leader, Hannibal. We have a mutual acquaintance... Warn Hannibal that his plots and schemes will not stand here. We are watching him."

Hiram nodded, hesitantly. "He's a reasonable man. I'm sure he'll agree to these terms."

Isabella frowned. "He'd better."

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Hannibal sat on his throne, and frowned down at Hiram. "All that you have spoken is the truth?"

"I swear on my honor as a Carthaginian," Hiram swore with a bow.

"Very well, then," Hannibal said with a sigh. He took a moment to think. So this was one of the realms where magic existed alongside the other basic forces. He'd not encountered a world like this for eons, when he had led instead a nation called Nubia. These wild and ancient forces were not to be used lightly, and could just as easily destroy his nation as help it. He knew he was taking a terrible risk here.

But on top of that, Isabella, the ruler of these Spaniards, knew of his past, was familiar with his kind. So she is an Immortal too, he mused.

"I accept her terms. She can send her shaman as soon as is practical. We can learn much of these magicks through... What is your name?" he asked, as he glanced to the formerly-injured scout, who stood beside Hiram. "Philosir, my lord," the man replied.

"Philosir, then. I look forward to seeing your full potential. You are both dismissed." Hiram and Philosir bowed before Hannibal, before leaving the throne room, leaving Hannibal to his thoughts.

 

[Gruekiller]

UPDATE 4: THE FIRST COUNCIL​

"Right, then!" Hannibal exclaimed. "Let's get down to business, shall we?"

Seated around him at the table were his four most important advisors, whom he had called to this council. Hiram, rewarded as promised, had been promoted to the position of military advisor. Elisha, recently returned from a diplomatic mission to the Indian capital of Delhi, was his foreign affairs advisor. Hamilcar had been a merchant on the streets of the city, and now served in the position of economic advisor. And finally, Aqhat, one of the realm's foremost scientists, held the position of the science and tech development advisor.

"Our scouting parties continue to comb the surrounding lands for new peoples, sir," Hiram reported. "The wider world seems to be much larger than we had ever expected." Hannibal did all he could not to smirk at the naivete that Carthaginians had to the nature of things. "Keep it up, Hiram. I'm certain that there are more civilizations to be found."

"You recall those new people, the Sioux we found south of the Great Jungle a few years ago?" Elisha asked. Hannibal nodded in confirmation. Elisha continued, "Well, our diplomatic overtures to them have been less than successful. They continue to stubbornly protect the secrets of their, ah, shaman."

Spoiler :

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Hannibal frowned. "We shall learn what they know in time." He made a mental note to establish more advisor posts in the future. An espionage advisor could be of some use.

"Not much to report in economic news," Hamilcar said drearily. "No net income, but no net loss either. We can't trade with other civilizations effectively." Hannibal laughed, replying, "You'll have your hands full before long, I assure you.

"And you, Aqhat?" Hannibal asked. "We have perfected our boats to sail over longer distances, and more quickly," Aqhat supplied.

"Very well, then. I believe that is all for now, then. But I have no doubt that we'll be meeting again before long." Hannibal nodded to each of his advisors. "Meeting adjourned."

 

[Yoshiegg737]

This looks like it may become a grand story. Will keep my eye on this one

 

[Gruekiller]

Thanks! Carthage is in for quite the interesting history, I guarantee it.

 

[SanePerson]

Could you please make the screenshots a bit smaller? Its annoying to have to use the left/right arrow keys to read.

 

[Gruekiller]

Sorry about that. I'll see what I can do, but the next few screenshots are already saved and hosted, so I can't do much until I start taking new ones.

 

[danjuno]

Great, looking forward the next update!

 

[Gruekiller]

UPDATE 5: UTICA​

Hannibal strode down the streets of Utica, Carthage's second city. It had just been set up a few years prior, and was in many ways a replica, of sorts, of the mother city. The Carthaginians didn't know how to construct cities any other way - Hannibal made a mental note to work on architecture soon.

The reasoning behind the construction of Utica was threefold: firstly, Carthage had encountered many new civilizations in recent years, and Carthage needed to put a check on its recently-discovered, closest neighbor, a civilization called the Byzantines. This island provided a base within striking distance of their capital Constantinople, and was probably making the Byzantines think twice about expanding near Carthage. Second, Hannibal knew that there was a source of uranium located somewhere on the peninsula just east of the island. This mattered little at present, but Hannibal knew all too well the role that uranium could play in a civilization. Civilian and military.

Hannibal gazed off into the distance, remembering the fate of Dublin - and that of the only mortal whom he had ever truly loved.

Thirdly, the construction of Utica bolstered the patriotic fervor of his people. Carthage would now have a brief window as the largest civilization on this world, which, frankly, made Carthaginians feel pretty damn good about themselves. It was good for his people to be steeled for the ages to come.

Hannibal glanced about at his entourage, a group of spearmen who glanced warily about, intensely protective of their beloved leader. As a man approached, they stiffened, readying their spears, at which Hannibal raised a hand and sighed wearily. "Let him in. It's just the garrison captain."

The guards let the man slip through their defense, and the captain bowed to his ruler. "Sire, those axemen you wanted us to train are nearly ready."

Hannibal nodded. "Load them onto the galleys and redirect them north to Carthage. I have a job for them. A job which will keep them in the history books for all time."

"Very good sire... What's a history book?"

Hannibal pinched the bridge of his nose, remembering that his people hadn't invented writing yet. He had a lot of work to do.

Spoiler :

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[Gruekiller]

UPDATE 6: DANEL​

"Where exactly are we going?" Danel asked?

"Quiet over there," growled the captain of the galley. "Secrecy is of the greatest importance in this operation."

"Yes sir," Danel mumbled in assent. He was no military man, he knew this. He was a farmer, but now he was an axeman. Whatever that really meant. He stifled uncomfortably in his bronze armor, grasping at the weapon at his back. Not so different from a rake, he supposed.

The galley was sailing down the coast of the continent, southwest from Carthage's summer harbor. They had been at sea for almost a month, so he supposed they were going quite far from the home city. But where? And why?

"Look over there!" someone shouted. Blinking, Danel glanced over at the land nearby, and spotted a great herd of animals. Bare, grey skin, massive ears, and a pair of tusks like a boar's - but much larger! - made this animal much different from anything he'd ever seen or heard of. The wider world sure was an exciting place.

Spoiler :

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[Gruekiller]

UPDATE 7: WAR!​

War!

The sheer noise, the chaos! The smell of things he'd rather not think about mixed with the stench of sweat and fear. Danel was scared senseless.

But he was no coward. So he would fight for his country. The Indian capital of Delhi was a coastal city, located on the Bay of Indus, and had no walls to keep the Carthaginians out, nor any boats to stop the galleys in the first place. The city practically had a natural harbor, into which the galleys could sail with impunity, pouring out their cargo of axemen onto the beaches of the city. It should have been a cakewalk.

Unfortunately, they had sages.

Atop a hill in the city, a man akin to a shaman was chanting in some language called Sanskrit, casting boulders on fire, and hurling them at the attackers. The boulders crashed into the Carthaginian ranks, smashing and burning the axemen to death. The horrible smell of burning flesh hung in the air. Danel knew he had to do something.

Sliding past the Indian warriors, and through the city's streets, Danel marveled at the different way the city looked, smelled, even felt. The stone was not the rough sandstone of Carthaginian cities, but smooth and polished marble. It took him some time, but he got to the top of the hill, hefting up his axe, and made his way toward the sage. The Indian man turned, glaring at the Carthaginian with a burning hatred in his eyes. "You invade our lands... You destroy our homes! Know true pain, whelp!"

The sage lifted his hands, casting bolts of lightning from his hands at Danel.

To the utter surprise of both of them, the bolts simply arced around Danel, as if some kind of bubble surrounded him.

"What?!" the sage cried out indignantly, just before he was cut down by Danel's axe.

Danel wiped the sweat from his brow as he pulled off his helmet, gazing down at the setting sun to the west, which silhouetted the mighty Carthaginian fleet. The other axemen down below were rapidly beating the Indian warriors. An hour or so later, the banner of Hannibal was raised on the hill where Danel stood. He could tell that Carthage would have many successes like this one in its future.

Spoiler :

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A month or so later, Hannibal greeted the news with an unusually bright grin. "Excellent. Most excellent indeed."

Hiram asked, "Should we keep the city? Or were we merely sacking it?"

"Keep it," Hannibal replied. "And give it a senseable, Carthaginian-sounding name. How about Telkhia?"

 

[Gruekiller]

UPDATE 8: CONSTANTINOPLE​

In many ways, the battle of Constantinople was similar to the one at Delhi - now Telkhia. In both cases, a fleet of Carthaginian galleys had sailed unprotected into a natural harbor, and besieged an unwalled city-state. The difference was that where India's sages were few and far between, the Byzantine capital sat on what he was told was a magical nexus of sorts. Magic propagated here like hares in springtime.

This probably explained why Danel's countrymen were having such a hard time against the Byzantines' exarchs: fearsome holy men clad in copper armor and armed with magically-imbued weaponry. Danel had been trying to hold back in this battle, reluctant to use his special abilities. He'd learned from someone named Philosir that he posessed a special ability which made him immune to all magic. In short, a perfect weapon against spellcasters of all kinds. Danel pulled his helmet over his head and drew his blade. He had work to do.

Within a few hours, every exarch lay dead at Danel's hands. Qoshtant too now belonged to Carthage.

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"Nothing but good news lately," Hannibal declared. "This Danel is truly a potent tool for our use. You did well in seeking him out, Philosir."

The new magic advisor nodded. "Thank you, m'lord. His abilities are truly unique in my experience."

"That Spaniard who trained you," Hannibal pondered, "Ricardo... He does not know of our successes in India and Byzantium?"

"He does not."

"Good. Keep it that way. I don't want word of this getting out to Isabella." He smirked. "Not yet, any way."

 

[Gruekiller]

UPDATE 9: THE SPANIARDS​

Across the table from Hannibal, the Spanish diplomat's face contorted into a glower of rage. "To allow this Judaism business to take root is one thing, Hannibal... But to make it your state cult?!" the man shouted. "Unacceptable!"

Spoiler :

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Hannibal smirked, thoroughly enjoying the Spaniard's fit of rage. "I don't believe that the religion our people practice is any of your concern, Ronaldo," he said. Judaism was descended from the mythology of the Byzantines, and had taken root in Qoshtant recently. Hannibal had seen right away its potential use for his nation, and had been quick to "convert" to it. It had already spread as far north as Utica, and as far east as the former Khmer capital, Yasodharapura (now Iasotapor).

"It is our concern, Hannibal, because it is my people's duty as Spaniards to spread the True Faith to all the world. Your cult is a threat to our way of life!"

Hannibal sighed, tiring of this man rather quickly. He'd heard similar tirades many times over the eons. Only the names of the gods had changed. "If you are only here to complain about things in which you have no say, then you are wasting your time here. Now begone from my sight."

"You will regret this, Hannibal," the man growled as he stood up.

"Perhaps," Hannibal replied musingly. "But tell your leader that she will regret it far more than I."

 

[Mosher]

Nice story!

 

[Gruekiller]

Thanks!

 

[Gruekiller]

UPDATE 10: ON THE ROAD​

Danel gazed across the field in amazement at the sheer size of the Carthaginian army. Twenty thousand men, at the least. The assembled soldiers were made up of veterans of Carthage's past battles, new recruits, and even former soldiers of the Khmer, Byzantines, and India. Never before had such a large force of men been in one place, marching for a single purpose. What this purpose was, he was not certain. But he had a pretty good idea.

After all, most of Carthage's infrastructure capacity had been devoted in recent years to creating a great road between Qoshtant and Hippo, a new colony southeast up the river from Telkhia. This road spanned the entire northern quarter of the continent, and coincidentally happened to dip rather close to the Spanish border. It was called the Carthaginian Road, and was heralded as an artery for the Carthaginian Empire along which both military and trade would travel.

This operation was strange - and indeed would be remembered as strange for years to come - because it was one of the few occasions in which Carthage abandoned its amphibious raids and marched inland to face the enemy. Such a move confused the Carthaginian soldiers, but they did as they were commanded to do, regardless of their discomfort. Danel mounted his horse, pulling on his helmet, and guided the animal to the front of the column.

Hannibal, also riding at the front, nodded to Danel. Danel nodded back to his sovereign.

And the full might of Carthage marched down the Carthaginian Road, to a battle for the ages.

Spoiler :

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[Gruekiller]

UPDATE 11: BETRAYAL​

The Carthaginians left the Carthaginian Road on May 1st, moving into the wooded areas to the road's south. The army passed slowly through the area, encountering only the occasional savages, who shied away from the great size of the force. After three weeks they emerged on the plains of Catalonia, and a week afterward executed a lightning raid across the Spanish border. Hannibal had wanted to keep the city of Barcelona, but it was simply too small to withstand the Carthaginian attack, and was razed in the chaos.

As of May 29th, a state of war now existed between Spain and Carthage.

Spoiler :

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On that same day, the shaman Philosir stood in a garden in Hadrumetum, a city which had been established some time prior in the deserts between Carthage and Telkhia. Before him were a number of young adepts, men and women of Carthage's grand empire who showed promise in the arts of magic.

Officially, Hadrumetum had been established as a supply post for ships taking the long journey from Carthage to Telkia. In reality, it was located upon one of the world's few magical nexi, where the ley lines met at a single point and created a great ambience of magical power. Hannibal had chosen its site just for this purpose, as a place where Philosir could train shaman.

"To maximize your magical output," Philosir advised his students, "you must allow your chakra to flow freely through your body: deep breaths!" The word chakra had been borrowed from the conquered Indians, and referred to the essence within beings which grants them access to magic. The adepts mimicked Philosir's movements, variously producing bursts of fire or ice from their hands as they did so.

Footsteps rapidly approached Philosir from behind, distracting him from his teaching. His frown became a smile as he found the man who had taught him to begin with, the Spanish shaman Ricardo. The smile reverted yet again when he caught sight of the stormy look on the Spaniard's face. "Adepts, you are dismissed," Philosir said. The student shaman all left excitedly, chattering about their lessons and various other subjects.

"What troubles you, Ricardo?" Philosir inquired.

"I just received some unwelcome news via the scrying stone," Ricardo said. "This morning, your leader's army crossed the frontier and sacked the city of Barcelona. None survived."

Philosir glanced down at the cobblestone on the ground.

"You knew this would happen," Ricardo said with an accusatory glare, "didn't you?"

"I had feared as much," Philosir answered hesitantly, "but one can never be certain of such things."

Ricardo glared daggers at the Carthaginian. "I have no need for platitudes and vague answers," Ricardo snapped. "My family lived in Barcelona. They were slaughtered like animals!"

Philosir winced.

"Those inhuman monsters have defiled Spanish land for the last time," Ricardo growled. "I am returning to Madrid immediately. And if you have any human decency left in your body, you will come with me, and put an end to your leader's mad ambition." Ricardo turned on his heel and strode away from Philosir.

Hannibal had kept a close eye on Ricardo during his stay in Carthage, and knew how dangerous the Spanish high shaman could be in event of an invasion. He'd counted on Philosir to perform this deed when this happened.

Philosir raised his hands, casting forked bolts of lightning from his hands. Ricardo had no time to react, his body seizing up as the electricity jumped to his heart, killing him instantly. The Spanish man fell to the ground, smoke rising from his singed corpse, as Philosir walked over to the man's body.

"You once told me that magic is a great burden," Philosir sneered. "Plainly you Spaniards were never truly worthy of bearing it." He smoothed out his robes, straightening his posture, and strode away, leaving the only man who could ever have stopped the rise of the Carthaginian shaman dead in the street.

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Half a world away, Isabella flinched, tightening her grip on the arm of her throne. She felt almost a pulling sensation within her chest, and at once a great coldness. Ricardo was dead.

"Chambermaid! Maria!" she called. The servant woman rushed over to her queen. "Yes, Your Highness?"

"Fetch me my sword and armor," Isabella barked as she stood up. "For tomorrow, the fate of this world, and all others, will be decided on the battlefield."

 

[Mosher]

Restlessly waiting for more