#bucellari

[eternal177]

Bucellari (Prologue 1: The fall of the tyrant)

The city was dominated by smoke and fire. The flames spread through the buildings without any control. Hordes of undead, kobolds, orcs, revolted altarians and all manner of beastmen ravaged the city that had once been the center of the world. Amid the chaos, General Glacian led his wounded Emperor and his Praetorian Guard through narrow streets and alleyways to the city gates.

-Quick, we have to get you out of this city, majesty!- The hooded general shouted as a building collapsed between the flames on its edge. The smoke and dust causing the emperor to lose sight of his old friend for a moment.

-Wait Glacian! Where are you?! Said the emperor between the coughs that the ashes and dust of the collapsed building caused him.

The sounds of battle were getting closer and closer, and hearing no response from his friend, the emperor decided to move on, assuming he would meet him later, behind the collapsed building.

Eskyla and her escort entered the debris cloud and emerged on the other side, dirty and coughing. Completely removed from the imperial dignity to which he had become so accustomed in recent years.

-When all this is over, I will crucify those responsible in the middle of the forum!- Shouted the emperor between coughs. - And to that traitor, Gola… That bastard will have his skin torn to shreds!- The disgraced emperor looked up. Some of his praetorians were missing… "Cowards!" Eskyla thought in that moment of rage. "They took advantage of the dust to desert!"

Glacian was nowhere to be found. And the sounds of riots were getting closer and closer. At that moment some of the revolted altarians emerged from one of the side streets. They were armed with tools and knives. They were torn from the ground, in the rubble of collapsed buildings, in improvised torches, but as their numbers grew, the discipline of their praetorians was less and less of an advantage.

One of the praetorians took off his helmet as the crowd gathered in front of them. He dropped his weapons and ran away. Meanwhile, the others positioned themselves in search of forming a line between the rebels and the emperor.

They wanted to cover the emperor's escape. At best, if we resist long enough, the emperor could be saved, he could reach the gates of the city, go beyond the sea with his family…

But that possibility was quickly lost when the dust settled. The rebels also emerged from the street they came from, cutting off any escape route.

-Guards?! Guards!- The emperor shouted when he saw the mass that was gathering in front of him. For the first time in many years Eskyla felt terror. The real fear. A fearsome feeling he hadn't felt since Sernon held him in the palm of his hand. For a moment she ceased to be the fearsome Eskyla who had ravaged the old homeland sowing death and destruction in the homes of those who followed the senate that had killed her sister. For a moment he was little Pesna again. Terrified and tormented.

The remaining praetorians formed a small perimeter around his imperial majesty, pointing their weapons against the altarian rebels, who kept a prudent distance.

For a moment there was silence broken only by the sound of flames and the distant shouts of battle. Minute by minute the crowd was growing, the rebels were constantly arriving, and there seemed to be no way out. At some point or another the altarians would decide that they had waited enough and throw themselves upon them in an abyss of hatred and violence.

Eskyla looked from side to side. He considered the rebels to be undisciplined, chaotic, cowards… "If you were in command of my bucellari, these seditious would not stand a chance. I would close the streets one by one in two or three lines of soldiers and exterminate them like rats that sleep!" The emperor thought through tears of hatred and frustration. All alone was nobody! Right then he realized his worst flaw, his arrogance, and how everything he had built had been on the shoulders of others. As much as he was a tactical genius, capable of defeating in battle even the liches Mal'Nakara and Mel'Clorval, isolated from his troops he was worthless.

A cry is heard among the people: "Death to the tyrant!" shouts one. - Long live Altaria! Long live the empire! - shouts another. It's clear that people are getting emboldened. The Praetorians, in their black armor and combat masks try to be as intimidating as they can. But they are like a dog showing its teeth. Little by little they retreated, limiting the space of their emperor. And as the rebels approach.

-Out with the emperor!-Says someone among the population. -For the people and the senate- Call a soldier of the "traitorous legions". One of the praetorians plunges his lance into the chest of a citizen who had gotten a little closer to the count, but instead of scaring the other rebels, it only became the last straw. Three rebels take the lance of that Praetorian, another two his arm. They quickly rip off his armor and begin stabbing his chest.

Stones and cobblestones begin flying and crashing into the Praetorians' helmets and shields. The altarians pounce on the emperor's guards and disarm and kill them with surprising ease.

But the strong dish is for the emperor. Together they seize him and tear off his armor and laurel wreath. Eskyla saw an elf woman punching him right in the face and he fell to the ground right after. The next thing he saw is a slave's dirty feet kicking him in the mouth. The emperor spite out three teeth and stared up at the sky, seeing people of all races and social classes in the empire kicking and punching him. They broke a couple of his ribs.

At that moment they started throwing stones at him. He noticed an incredible pain at the base of his spine and suddenly he stoped feeling his legs. He tried to cruel out of that situation, but he was surrounded. Another stone hit him, with the bad luck to stab him in the stomach, piercing his skin and intestines, and he begins to vomit blood. Finally someone throwed a stone at his head and it all ended suddenly. The lights went out, he just felt the cold em race of death as darkness surrounded him.

The tyrant was dead, and upon realizing it, a few minutes after his soul left his broken body, the people erupted in joyful celebration. Arament's monster finally lay dead under the feet of those he had oppressed for so many years now! It was time to end them all!

And yet, his shadow lingered over the remains of the empire…

[fantastictyphoonpeanut]

Bucellari (biscuit–eaters) were formations of escort troops used in the Roman Empire in Late Antiquity. They were employed by high-ranking military officers.

[mdellertdotcom]

From Rough Draft to Finished Manuscript: Guest Post by Andy Peloquin

From Rough Draft to Finished Manuscript: Guest Post by Andy Peloquin

Over the last thirteen weeks and more, I’ve shared with you my own process for rewriting the first draft of your novel manuscript. But is it my way or the highway? Hardly. And thankfully, I’ve got Andy Peloquin back with me today to share his own revision process. Andy is the author of The Queen of Thieves series and The Last Bucellari series. Book Three of The Last Bucellari: Gateway to the Past

[eternal177]

Bucellari (Prologue 3: The Invisible Threat)

Before the morning sun rose from the distant horizon, the old imperial palace where the fanatical forces of the fallen emperor mounted a desperate last stand had fallen into the hands of Consul Gola and General Glacian, who walked the unkempt corridors how long ago they had been the home of great figures such as Altarian the First, Aurum the Golden and Lican the Lycanthrope among other great emperors of a past that already seemed unrecognizable.

As they advanced they found themselves in the mangled bodies of soldiers loyal to Eskyla who had been slaughtered when the gates had fallen and the chaotic array of enemies of the tyrannical emperor had taken over their old home.

-They haven't left any survivors- Glacian said as they passed by a couple of kobolds who were rummaging through the pockets of some of the dead to see what they could find. Glacian grimaced in disgust when he saw those stupid little reptiles.

-And what did you expect, old friend? For more than a decade they have been prisoners of Eskyla's madness... Ever since she went mad... - Gola said cynically as he led Glacian inside the palace.

-Don't you dare call me friend, Gola! We will be allies of convenience, but if it were up to me, you would have been the first to be crucified in the fields of lamentation. You and yours killed Alfia, you drove my friend crazy, a friend I considered a brother! You caused the...- Gola silenced Glacian suddenly with a single movement of his hand. Glacian wasn't the only wizard in the palace.

-I understand that it was hard to lead your best friend, your "brother" towards the trap, so I will not take this insolence into account. But you must understand something very clear, and you would do well to listen. You're not emperor yet, boy, and I'm your greatest ally in the senate. You would do well not to overestimate your importance. Pesna, the old emperor, was lost since Sernon the old bound him to his will. At best Vitelius you could have saved him, but Sernon created a monster, a little Sernon. And this heartless corruption was spread to his sister, who by order of "the Eskyla" tried to dissolve the senate. Today we saved what's left of the empire, my friend, so don't be martyred. You did the right thing.-

With these last words Gola freed Glacian from the unnatural silence that had been imposed on him. He then rested his hands on his ample belly and straightened his toga a little.

Glacian did not dare to answer. He was clear about the consequences that could have a challenge to what in a few days would become the king maker. He followed Gola in silence until they reached the legendary purple chamber, which surprised the future emperor.

-Why are you bringing me here?- Glacian asked, surprised. The purple room... An ancient myth imported from the imperial east said that whoever was born in that room was destined to rule. A room in the walls painted with the exclusive purple pigment found only in molluscs from the easternmost parts of the Inland Sea.

-That's because our soldiers have informed me that there is a problem, your "majesty". It seems that the suitors are increasing.- Gola explained as he opened the doors of the room, exposing the lifeless body of a woman he had once seen next to Pesna at the hippodrome.

-A pregnant woman, dead in childbirth. Whose son is a porphyrogenitus, a child born in purple, a child destined to rule. - Glacian looked at Gola while the Consul explained the situation to him with great concern.

-Don't tell me you believe in these superstitions, Gola. They are nothing more than fables, children's stories. A child of the purple is no more special than any other if you take away the empire that his father had to bequeath to him...- Glacian replied ignoring Gola's concerns.

-Believe in fairy tales? No, but in the symbols? I would be an idiot to ignore them. A child born in purple is a powerful symbol, your majesty, a symbol that your detractors can rally behind. The legitimate children of the Eskyla will be enough of a problem for us to have to worry about one more possible pretender who will raze what is left of the empire to crown himself emperor of the ashes. We can't allow this threat to continue to breathe!- Gola shouted in a truly persuasive tone, which did more work than the words themselves. If those words had been spat in the senate, surely you would have convinced enough senators to admit the hunt. But not Glacian.

-You can't be serious Gola... Even you have to have a limit. Killing a child? A child whose future you would have given him under other circumstances? A newborn baby? The child of the friend whom I just betrayed?- Glacian took that proposal as a personal offense.

-Don't you see the big picture Glacian?- Gola asked him as he approached the body of the dead mother. -If the child is not here, it is because one of Eskyla's fanatical followers has survived and taken him away. What do you think his upbringing will be like?- Gola remained silent for a few minutes, letting Glacian imagine the sample he could transform into. He imagined a new Sernon corrupting the son of Pesna just as the real Sernon had condemned him.

-You're right Gola, but it's not too late for this son of Pesna. I'll send my scouts out to find whoever it is—" Glacian was interrupted as the doors swung open.

At that moment two skeletal figures entered the room. They wore ornate tunics of black and gold silks and carried elaborate staffs made of Evertree wood. The one on the left wore the infamous bone crown, a piece of silver jewelry that had been designed to appear to be made of bone, topped with a small purple gem. The one on the right wore a silver mask that emulated a youthful face, a face she held on her twenties when she was still alive, and an Onyx tear embedded under the eye. The enchanted mask allowed her to recover the flesh from the bones whenever she had it on. These were the liches Mel'Clorval and Mal'Nakara.

-So this is the famous purple room... I didn't imagine that anyone would be able to spend so much money to paint a single room... Not even the emperors.- Mal'Nakara said while her husband looked at the room in disgust.

-How many people would have died in poverty for the emperors to be able to afford these frivolities... I expect great changes on your part Glacian...- He answered him as they approached Glacian and Gola.

-I hope that when they put the golden laurel on that handsome head of yours, you don't forget the promises you made to us, Glacian...- Mal'Nakara said in a slightly stinging tone as she rubbed his arm She was three heads shorter than him, and her skin was cold as ice. Mal'Clorval looked a little jealous, but said nothing. Mal'Nakara flirted with everyone, but never went further.

-Which one? I have been forced to do so many these last few months that I am not able to remember them all.- The general who would become emperor replied.

-You promised us our future, frozen one. The dwarves have redoubled their efforts to exterminate our people, and the karabb underlords cannot protect us any longer. Most of the cities we inhabited before you exiled us to the depths of the underworld are still uninhabited, still in ruins. That is what you owe for our services.- The concern in which he spoke was evident even in Mel'Clorval's expressionless bathed skull.

The lich took two steps forward but Gola stood in the middle. -The senate and the people of Altaria mourn your misfortune, but the empire already has enough religious problems with the occult cults, the demonists and these upstart deities like the lord of lights. Add the dark lady to this explosive mix. In addition, necromancy is taboo, in many places the practitioners are killed...-

At that moment Mal'Nakara let go of Glacian's arm and pushed Gola nearly knocking him over. -Listen to me, piggy, we are a dying people, but I'm determined to not be the last one of my kind. We need this, and it's what you promised us, so you'll keep your word even if we have to force you to. If we are in such danger, may the emperor offer us his personal protection. Let's see who dares to touch us then! Remember what you owe us, and not just for today, but for all these years that both I and my husband have fought alone against the oppression of the old emperor.-

Glacian, seeing how the situation could quickly escalate, called out to get the attention of everyone present. -That's enough!- It worked, as everyone remained silent, watching him. -We have defeated the tyrant, but the danger is not over. Just now that we have deposed Pes... That we have overthrown Eskyla is when there is more danger. Usurpers, opportunists, warlords and the eastern empire will throw themselves at our necks to see what they can scratch. If we fight now, we will give the empire on a silver platter to whoever tries to take it. - Seeing that he had caught their attention, Glacian continued. -You will have my protection, as well as your old home, as promised. And the senate, Gola, will have the prerogative to choose the emperor from now on.-

Glacian, seeing how the situation could quickly escalate, called out to get the attention of everyone present. -That's enough!- It worked, as everyone remained silent, watching him. - Throat! You have to admit that the army of the dead is formidable. They alone have destroyed the legions of Sclera and Sernon the Younger. In fact they have cut off the head of the son of the monster.-

Gola nodded, chewing on a wad that wanted to escape from his mouth. - I admit it. Without his intervention, the casualties would have been catastrophic…-

-And you should understand Gola's concern. We have just recovered the city, the empire, the soul of Altaria itself. We need guarantees… Normally the necromancers who come to the surface are not as civilized as you…- Glacià continued. The lichs looked at each other and nodded.

-We assure you that these rogue elements are no more representative of our people than an assassin or a mad emperor is of yours.- Mel'Clorval seemed to speak directly to Gola with these words rather than Glacian.

-Our people will do what the shadow council orders, and, if you are more calm, the council will do what the senate authorizes…- Mal'Nakara followed, aware that the future emperor was not letting her no other way out than to show good will.

Gola looked at them, not quite believing them, but nodded.

-Now, you can leave, I need a moment to think... I'll send someone for you when the senate convenes. You and the Drakonians and the Kobols and the Rhedanis and the barbarians and the beastfolk and the rest of you are invited. Don't you dare protest Gola…- Said the future emperor. Gola didn't say a single word, but his displeasure could be read on his face. For him the senate was a sacred body that would be desecrated by the presence of the enemies who have been fighting for generations…

[eternal177]

Bucellari (Prologue 2: The Loyal Soldier)

At the same time, in the imperial palace, on the highest of the mountains that surround the capital, Claudia Mena, the lover and concubine of the emperor far from the distant Elagacian coasts where the family and the most faithful followers of the emperor remained, she was giving birth to his majesty's illegitimate children.

The night was chaotic, and Flavius Scalla, the emperor's butler and captain of the palace guard watched the scene below the mountain with concern. The capital was on fire, and it was difficult to decipher what was happening at any moment. According to some reports, the second and fourth legions, under the command of General Glacian had opened the gates of the city to the Dead Dragon Alliance, others said that it was the legions of the senate that had taken control of the forum while the alliance entered through the sewer. Others said that all the chaos had started in the circus as a fight between the blue and red fans. Either way, the city was out of control, and the situation was steadily getting worse.

A short time ago they had been able to repel the third assault of the rebels on the palace gates, and it seemed that they would not withstand many more attacks like the last one. To top it all off, some reports talked about the emperor's death.

Flvius watched the situation from the balcony as he tried to see something he had missed. Some hope in that abyss of blood and fire. Some light beyond the cruel flames that ravaged that ancient city in the darkness of the night.

-What are you doing here Flavius, and where is my father?- said Pesna II, the young son and heir of the late emperor, from behind Flavius. He had his father's face, but unlike him, his eyes were the imperial purple so common in the royalty of the Elgade

-I wasn't doing much… I thought. We've lost control of much of the city. Most of our forces have been completely decimated, those that remain will not take long to suffer the same fate. And if that wasn't enough, there are reports that point to the death of his majesty… - The young prince, barely an adult, was completely in a state of shock. he watched the city gaping, still unable to believe that his father was dead.

-But, that can't be true, can it? My father can't be dead…- The boy watched the infinity in the direction of the urban battlefield in which the home of the altarians had been transformed. He seemed absent in his own world. - Does that mean I'm the emperor now? But if father hasn't taught me how to rule yet…-

-Calm down boy, just because they say the emperor is dead doesn't mean he really is… The latest reports said it was General Glacian, and he has always been loyal to your father. They've known each other since they were little kids… Surely these are rumors and lies by the traitors to keep us loyalists hopeful… - Although what he was saying seemed to make sense, there is no there was too much hope behind those words. The situation could not be worse. Most of the enemies that Eskyla had made during her long highborne life had gathered today to end the reign of the Emperor's house.

-Maybe you're right Flavius…- Before you could say anything else, an arrow suddenly went through the boy's head. The Bucellari saw in horror how the life was extinguished from the eyes of the young Pesna, who fell to the ground lifeless, whose innocent blood stained the one who had sworn to protect him with his life if necessary. Flavius knew the sins of the father, indeed he had participated in many, but the son… The son was innocent! Who had reaped that beautiful life? What had cut that cutting before you can germinate and grow into a grandios tree?!

Flavius looked over the balcony again, and saw the first vanguards and a new full-scale assault advancing across the garden. A pointy-eared bastard had killed the young emperor! An elf hunter wearing an old bow and leather clothing had died in the heir of the world! That coward had seen the young heir thanks to his cursed elven sight and without a moment's hesitation he had ended a life that had barely begun.

But as much as you hurt him, it was not the time to mourn the fallen young star. If the emperor and the heir were dead, the children of the emperor's concubine would be the first to be put to the sword if the enemies broke in. His duty was to protect the imperial family, and cursed would be his name if he wasn't the last line of defense!

Flavius made his way inside the palace, hiding from the barrage of arrows and rocks fired from the crude though effective catapults the kobolds had built on the orders of their Drakonian masters.

The number of people who made up this last attack could only mean one thing. The city had fallen. The emperor's forces had been completely or almost completely exterminated, and now it was the palace's turn. The situation was unsalvageable, and it occurred to him to surrender that place, to ask for mercy for those who were still alive… But if the son or daughter of the emperor was born alive, his duty would be to protect them, to be a last line of defense on the heart of the palace.

Once within the safety of the palace's sturdy stone walls Flavius rose and hurried to the purple room where his majesty's concubine was giving birth. That security was merely temporary, and he didn't want to stay inside the palace if it was stoned.

He had little time, the enemies were at the gates, and in a situation like that it was difficult to maintain discipline, even less without his commander in the front line with them, but the emperor's child was his highest priority.

Flavius flung open the doors of the purple hall and burst in. A boy and a girl were in the arms of the midwives. For the glory of the lord of lights! They were twins! But the mother had lost a lot of blood in childbirth and was dying in bed.

The captain of the bucellari sped to his late master's concubine, the only woman he had loved for so many years before entering the emperor's service. Flavius was devastated and desperate. Neither does she! She couldn't die! He knelt beside her and took her hand, completely ignoring the midwives or the children.

-Flavius…- The new mother said in a tender and weak voice. It was noticeable how much effort it took him to exhale the slightest sigh. -…you have to save my children… Take them, take them away…-

A tear welled up in the mother's eye as she smiled at her former lover. -How, sweetie, we are surrounded…- The guard replied while kissing her hand, throwing overboard any kind of subtlety when showing his love for a wife of the emperor.

-This palace has secret tunnels. Departures that take you away from the capital… You must take my children far away from here, but their brothers cannot know of their existence…- The dying woman explained to him, making a grimace of pain due to exertion. In his gaze he pointed to a wall, indicating that behind the purple velvet was one of the tunnels he was warning him about. -These children are born in purple… They are destined to rule… If none of their brothers find out about their existence, their lives will be in danger… You must go west. Whatever you do, don't come near Eskyla's house…-

-But, the west is ruled by the barbarian kingdoms! You can't think the sons of the emperor would be safe there!- Cryed Flavius while looking at her with tears flowing down to his beard.

-Flavius... My children would be safer with with wolves than with their brothers... You must promise that to me if you ever truly felt anything for me. Promise this to me and I would die in peace....- Flavius saw a fierce spark of determination on her eyes.

-I promise... My love...-With those words, Claudia breathed her last, and the hand she was giving her old lover lost what little strength she had left. A smile reigning over her face, proof of the strengh of her will.

Flavius cried disconsolately in the arms of the woman he loved for a moment. There were so many things you wanted to say to him, so many moments that were stolen from them… But a landslide moved them all. The gates had fallen, the enemies were entering the palace. There was no time to mourn her, like so many others who would not see the sun rise again.

Flavius stood up and motioned for the matrons to follow him as he made his way to the wall that Claudia had pointed to moments earlier. Flavius tried everything. He looked for hidden levers, buttons on the walls, false walls, until finally he saw that it was as easy as pushing the wall to the left. Immediately, Flavius lit a torch, and entered the tunnel followed by the three midwives, the oldest of whom was carrying the children.

[mdellertdotcom]

From Rough Draft to Finished Manuscript: Guest Post by Andy Peloquin

From Rough Draft to Finished Manuscript: Guest Post by @AndyPeloquin | @MDellertDotCom #askAuthor

Over the last thirteen weeks and more, I’ve shared with you my own process for rewriting the first draft of your novel manuscript. But is it my way or the highway? Hardly. And thankfully, I’ve got Andy Peloquin back with me today to share his own revision process. Andy is the author of The Queen of Thieves series and The Last Bucellari series. Book Three of The Last Bucellari: Gateway to the Past