#✦ I KNOW THAT SPADES ARE THE SWORDS OF A SOLDIER [MERCENARY] | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

warsofasoiaf · 6 years

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We're roleplaying in an ancient Roman setting. Can you give some info on how the typical gear - armor, the rectangular shields, throwing spears, gladium and spatha would have worked? Especially on contrast to typical medieval settings with the soldier fighting as an individual?

Sure thing, the Roman army was an impressive engine and Roman warfare was quite different from medieval warfare. The typical Roman soldier was equipped with a suit of armor, two pila, a gladius or spatha, a scutum, and the pugio dagger as a backup. Other soldiers might be equipped with the hasta, a six-foot long thrusting spear, which in the early eras was used by the triarii, the elite Roman soldiers. It’s a bit lengthy, so under the cut it goes.

The pila, a javelin with a hard iron tip and soft iron shank would be critically important to fighting enemy formations. The javelin’s shank would bend and weigh down the enemy shield, making them ineffective until the pila could be removed, which due to the metal and pyramidal tip was an incredibly difficult, laborious process that couldn’t really be done during combat. Also, a shank that bent couldn’t be thrown back. Of course, if the thrower hit a person instead of a shield, that was also effective, the weight and power of a thrown pila pretty much took a soldier out of combat if he was hit. So for role-playing, the characters should look to throw their javelins first to break up enemy formations and destroy their shields.

The gladius and scutum were used in tandem, with the shield leading the way to maximize body coverage. Given the importance of this, the legionnaires would all carry the equipment in the same hand to eliminate gaps in the shield coverage in the Roman formation (sorry southpaws!). The gladius was used for short thrusts and chops, minimizing the exposure to the enemy. The spatha was originally a Celtic cavalry sword that was adopted by the Roman infantry in the late 2nd, early 3rd century. The advantages of the spatha are it’s clear reach advantage over the gladius, though the sword was heavier and risked more exposure. The pugio is a backup weapon, used in emergencies or executing fallen or wounded enemies. For roleplaying purposes, have your characters march together, using their shields in front to protect them, before getting in close and using the gladius for quick assaults. Don’t make the mistake of putting them in a tight phalanx, the men have more personal space to fight. The players should have a defense-first mindset, trusting in their shields and heavy armor to carry the day (along with their Roman training) before the sword.

The scutum itself was a heavy shield and too large to use on horseback without clocking your horse in the head, making it an infantry shield. It’s incredibly light though, easy to use in one hand, primarily because it’s a composite construction made from three layers of wood with canvas and leather. Early scutum could be rent by heavy chopping weapons like the Thracian falx, forcing the Romans to use thicker wood and line the edges with metal. The light weight meant that the scutum was often damaged and required repair after battle, but the extra protective area was great during battle and the light weight meant soldiers tired at a slower pace, so there was a clear trade off with the scutum versus the aspis and other heavy shields. A key part of the scutum was the umbo, a hard metal center which deflected projectiles and was used to bash forwards. Roman writers speak about bashing forward with the shield, pushing shield against shield to move it out of position then striking with the gladius. For role-playing purposes, have your characters bash with shields before striking with swords.

The main armor of the Roman legionnaires was the lorica hamata, the mail shirt. This was an incredibly labor-intensive process to manufacture, but it was relatively easy to maintain and could last decades if well cared for. This was the standard issue Roman armor, but not the classic Roman armor look. That honor belongs to the lorica segmentata, the classic partial plate mail made up of bands of metal. This armor was both lighter and more protective, but it was much harder to repair and maintain, hence why ring mail went back into style following the collapse of the Western Roman Empire and the devaluation of the currency. There is some debate on who exactly used segmentata, my own take was that if the soldier could afford it, it was well-worth the investment. There’s also the lorica squamata, the scale mail, though this is complicated as no complete suits have ever been found, depictions show cavalry, centurions, and musicians wearing the squamata. Even more exotic is the lorica plumata, which was reserved only for high-ranking officers and was used only in practice by generals, an expensive, heavy, but incredibly protective suit of armor. For role-playing purposes, I’d stress the ease of use of the hamata over the superior protectiveness of the segmentata, and if you want to show off a high-ranking general, bedeck him in some fine plumata. The armor itself can be used to showcase who is wealthy enough to afford segmentata and the poorer capites censi who are stuck with the standard issue hamata.

Typically, the auxila or mercenaries handled missile weapons, and the patrician equites would handle cavalry duties until Marius abolished the citizen cavalry corps to replace them entirely with auxila allies.

The acute shock of combat was recognizable to the Romans as a danger to discipline, therefore rather than long, intense combat until you won or died, there would be short periods of intense combat, and then the individual trooper would fall back for a short rest while others would cover their withdrawal or move up to take their place. This gave Roman troopers a chance to breath and get a handle on their mental stress. So for role-playing, have the players cover each other. If mental stress is a factor in your game (I do not know what system you use), have the players be keenly aware of it and cover each other. This formation is key, the players should be drilled in their formation regularly and understand its value.

You should also make sure your Romans have entrenching tools like spades to dig ditches and ramparts. That minor touch right there screams Roman legionnaire, and said Romans should understand the basics of campcraft through their training and drill.

Thanks for the question, Stefan. If you have anything more you’d like to know, just ask and I’ll provide. Hope it all goes well.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

#roman empire #history #tactics #technology #engineering

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bvlgae · 2 years

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"I hate you!"

He's acting his age and he knows it. At least he has that much of an excuse. His eyes sting. Tears are welling up, threatening to spill over, to draw glistening streaks over his cheeks. Sephiroth balls up his fists instead, wills the tears not to fall because that's the last gods damned thing he needs. And what he needs right now is to hang onto his anger.

Somehow, he thought he'd be used to it by now. Nothing but a muzzled pet, a prized science fair project, or a show horse paraded around for a crooning audience. Not a person. Not someone to anybody.

All those life lessons, the wrinkles at the corner of Ravus's eyes when he narrated over a new story and Sephiroth laughed along with it, cuddling by firelight on cold nights, discarded candy wrappers, and counting shooting stars. That wasn't for him.

Why can't he just be? Why can't people just let him exist for who he is? To see him and not something or someone else?

The signs were there. He had chosen to ignore them for so long. Whenever Ravus looked at him out of the corner of his eye or when the other man ruffled his hair...He wasn't seeing Sephiroth, but Lunafreya.

Pinpointing the exact moment he figured out what was happening seems impossible. Hearing Ravus stumble over Lunafreya's name, openly confusing memory for reality...that hurt too much to describe.

Sephiroth tries to leave, to turn away and fight his way through the shrubbery clawing at his legs because he knows he can't stop the tears now. They run hot, like little flames burning all the way down until they drip off the end of his chin.

"You miss her so bad-- you should go find her then! What the hell are you doing with me?! Just leave me alone. I don't need you. I don't need anybody."

It was a mistake, he knows. But his attempt at explaining his error is cut short, by three words that manage to wound him deeper than any sword or stray bullet.

The boy doesn't mean it. He couldn't.

...did he?

"Wait, you're only going to hurt yourself-" he tries to keep his tone steady, not raising volume or casting an edge to it, nothing that can be further misconstrued.

As much as it hurts, Sephiroth's emotions were more important to him. He wanted- No, needed to set this right.

"I misspoke. You've seen me get confused before- Disassociate from the present. That's all it was."

Perhaps a weak excuse, but there was truth to it.

Of course he missed her. How couldn't he? How could he ever disrespect or think ill of Lunafreya after what he did.

"She's... dead, Seph. And I've known, for a long time, that she's never coming back. No one could ever replace the void left in my heart that she once occupied. The same way that no one could ever replace you."

How could he describe it in words that didn't sound paltry in comparison to what he felt? If he couldn't retain his pride, he could at least retain what little humanity he had left. Maybe it was too late for even that.

"All I had to ground me for years was revenge. They tell you sometimes it's better to just forget- How could I forget? How could I forgive? To me, forgiveness was something that could only be given by those who still had something to begin with. You know that when it gets tough like that, it's going to turn ugly. I thought that I didn't care how low I sunk, how far gone I'd be, but it's different now. Everything's different. I hated it at first, but fuck it- I've been working for a long time and I haven't done much with the earnings. You want to leave? You want to disappear, we can do that. You wanted to go to Costa del Sol? Hell, we'll do that too- Buy a bed with feathers stuffed into it and everything, no keeping our backs to the wall, no sleeping with one eye open anymore. Just those fruity drinks with stupid, tiny umbrellas and miles of nothing but ocean."

They'd done enough killing, it was time to start living.

#serafim #♘ You Will Not Go Astray [IC]#AHA HA HA REVERSE UNO CARD SORTA #YOU WANTED SAD AND ANGSTY BUT I GAVE YOU UH... THE OPPOSITE OF THAT #✦ I KNOW THAT SPADES ARE THE SWORDS OF A SOLDIER [MERCENARY]#I NEED MORE COFFEEEEEE that took a lot out of me

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bvlgae · 2 years

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He hated all the movies that sold lies wrapped in glitter and glory, beating into people’s heads that one has to do something as cliché as squeeze the trigger.

“Don’t do that-” he instructs, hands like a wrench around the thin pipeline that was Sephiroth’s wrist.

“You’re thinking of actors playing at mastering a firearm. Are they squeezing it, are they pulling it? The force is being applied so quickly, is there even a difference? It doesn’t matter. A trigger does not know or care how force is applied to it.”

He can almost feel phantom pricks of stiff stubble biting into the raggedy fabric of his shirt, the heavy weight of Drautos’ chin against his shoulder- Bellies to the ground in the dust and the dead grass.

“You have to pull, straight back. Don’t clench any other fingers of your hand- I know it’s hard. But if the sights are on target when the shot breaks, you will hit it.”

The cool metal and worn wood of the rifle’s stock sliding through his hands as his superior tells him how he’s not going to eat, drink, or shit without that rifle by his side.

Get to know your weapon, like the body of a woman. Touch it, jack off to it, fall in love with it. Then I’ll teach you how to kill with it.

He doesn’t quite go that far, finding the comparison distasteful and ultimately useless in familiarizing oneself with arms. Take it apart, like a puzzle. Put it back together. Clean it, care for it. Make it an extension of yourself.

Back when he was around Sephiroth’s age, he’d never fired a gun before. To do it with only a single bullet sounded easy. Just line up the muzzle with what you wanted to shoot and center it within your sights.

It was easy. Even easier when his target was bound to a tree, bleeding and shivering and gagged with an old sock stuffed down his throat as he pissed himself.

Ravus had pulled the trigger and the man’s entire body jerked. Contorted against the ropes keeping his arms trussed behind him like a stuffed chicken. Pink froth spilled from his half-open lips, shaking and twitching and shitting himself like the first time he’d watched a chasseur fail to kill a deer in one shot, splayed miserable on the soft forest floor with large, terrified eyes as involuntary groans oozed their way out of it’s bleeding throat.

Had to walk up and just beat the POW with the stock of his rifle until he finally stopped.

Please, please, Gods above- Just DIE, why won’t you die?! and then there was a crunch like a bird’s egg being crushed underfoot and sinking into the wet mud. The way his eyes got watery and shallow like looking into a puddle gathered between rain soaked cobbles. Saw his pale blue eyes reflected in them, filled with pain, but relief too.

The same way he’d looked when Sylva died.

He’d loved his mother. Lunafreya too, but what did love even mean- back then?

It was so loud. So loud that it was a clap of thunder in a clear sky. Then the wait as the bullet spit out faster than the speed of sound down the barrel, always a few seconds just before the bottle shattered.

How can he tell this boy he learned math by scratching out calculations in a stained notebook, trying to parse out the longest shot- The perfect firing solution. How many feet, kilometers, hundreds of thousands of millimeters.

A good sniper will always wait for the perfect shot, even if it takes him days. Weeks. He lurks, starving in the jungle while all the others hungry for the glory simply take the shot, whatever they can get, knowing another meal- another victim- is always coming.

How did he look when he waited? Did his eyes go half-lidded and intimate once his sights found their target in perfect alignment, did his breathing mirror the deep rise and fall of the enemy’s chest? How did he imagine himself walking beside the other soldier, keeping in pace with those long strides as he stalked through the underbrush. Sucking in a breath. Holding it. Then watching as his torso was reduced to a fine mist, coffee still clutched between a spasming fist as his top half fell away from his lower body.

How can he tell Sephiroth THIS is why he’d learned his math?

He doesn’t. Can’t. Will never.

In his dreams, they’re always on the run. Hiding, cramped behind cover as the searching opposition fans out into the jungle. Sephiroth is crying, even for a quiet sob, the sound echoes off every rock face, rattles around between Ravus’ ears. The boy won’t stop, then suddenly he can’t breathe as Ravus’ fingers squeeze around him, neck going rubbery beneath.

In his dream, he can’t stop crying, so Ravus can’t stop squeezing until she he isn’t crying anymore. He’s not doing anything.

“-are you listening to me?” Sephiroth asks, looking concerned as Ravus suddenly snaps back to the present.

“I’m fine,” he answers, smiling but it doesn’t quite touch his eyes. Reaches down and ruffles his fingers through locks of blonde silvery hair so pale, it’s like starlight when the sun catches it.

#serafim #♘ WRITING #✦ I KNOW THAT SPADES ARE THE SWORDS OF A SOLDIER [MERCENARY]#implied sororicide tw #gore tw #violence tw #idk I just had this sitting around in my brain for awhile

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