Chapter 1: A Dream Called Epirus

Energetic and rhythmic footsteps echoed on the pink marble floor of a grand hall. A man, solitary, paced back and forth, thoughtful and calculating, weaving his way between the granite columns that stood like a true guard of honor towards the Ivory Throne of Ambracia, the capital of Epirus in the year 300 BCE…

In reality, it was 2034, and the hyperactive oddball marching in goose-step in his mental zeppelinfeld was named Leon Vernon - Vladorius was his pseudonym - and he was waiting for no less than the team of misfits who served as his advisors for the epic he planned to write in Hellenistic Wars.

Hellenistic Wars was the new baby of Nextgames, the entertainment subsidiary of Next.inc. It was a pioneering company in the development of full-dive MMOs, with its most famous title being Strengths of Empires (SoE) set during the revolutionary and Napoleonic wars. Leon, or rather Vladorius, had played it intensely for several years, years in which he managed to make a name for himself in the gaming community in various glorious and less-than-glorious ways, while also making a few friends along the way. Generally, Nextgames' titles - especially their MMOs - were focused on military and governmental themes. Hellenistic Wars was no exception, although players had more freedom in their career choices. For example, if a player wanted to end up as a carpenter in the depths of Aetolia, so be it. They might get bored, but that was their choice.

Those who dreamed of adventure, however, were both better and worse served. To proclaim oneself as the Strategos of a city, King of a defined territory, or of Alexandria-on-the-Don, it was first come, first served. Or rather, first to pay, first to claim: the rest had to settle for a military career under a luckier player. Leon belonged to this second category, the decision-makers, the leaders, and tyrants, and some would say he had bet on the wrong horse: Epirus was a poor region, and history would not have cared about it if it hadn't been the domain of the unfortunate Pyrrhus, whose name still haunts the nights of armchair generals.

To return to basics, the average player who chose a military career didn't start as a pauper: they first received equipment, generally consisting of a linothorax, a Phrygian helmet, greaves and sandals, as well as a kopis (a small Greek cutlass highly prized by Medes blood enthusiasts), and their first objective was to go to the nearest training camp to train (you followed, good) ten recruits. Indeed, in Nextgames' MMOs, armies were composed of semi-autonomous AI under the orders of players who formed the cadres, officers, and generals for the luckiest, most competent, or those benefiting from the sovereign's friendship. This system came from SoE but in an improved version; the previous system of one player per company (one hundred soldiers) resulted in armies easily exceeding hundreds of thousands of men, leading to Leipzig-like battles every Sunday, inconceivable during antiquity (unless you believe Herodotus). This is quite well-designed, forcing near-perfect coordination among players who needs a strong chain of command to win victories.

One might think that mathematically, it wasn't necessarily the most populated territory that had the best chances of expanding, but the king with the most players, and therefore the largest army. However, it's not that simple since an army needs to be maintained, equipped, and, most importantly, raised. Thus, the cards are dealt to everyone, and a small, well-equipped, and well-commanded army can tip the balance. Additionally, it forces states to forge alliances and often fight to maximize their chances of survival until the bell signaling the end of the season rings, an end decided by the administrator supervising the game.

 During the two-week real-world invulnerability period granted to each sovereign to develop their state and infrastructure, build strongholds, and recruit as many players as possible, Vladorius managed to establish an efficient state, governed by himself and his Council of Four, and a small army of 10,000 men, organized - anachronism alert - into three legions of 3,000 men, then divided into 10 phalanxes of 300 men each, including 50 slingers (or 500 slingers per legion), and four phalanxes of hoplites (1,000 per legion), the rest being sarissas (1,500 sarissophores per legion). Each legion was assigned a sector of the kingdom, with the 30 phalanxes spread two per camp. The cavalry was organized into 300 light cavalry, 500 medium melee cavalry, and 500 charging sarissa cavalry, and finally the small Royal Guard, consisting of 40 heavy cavalry and the 9 Nazguls who, as the name suggests, were the King's companions.

The King's steps and thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a notification in his field of vision. Suddenly, as Vladorius stood stoically in the middle of the room, back to his throne, four heavy iron doors opened, and four silhouettes approached, their faces gradually becoming clear under the flickering light of the heavy torches in the Throne Room.

The first to present himself before his sovereign was Moe, regent-minister of Epirus, a longtime friend of Vladorius and gaming buddy. His square jaw sculpted by northern winds overshadowed by his huge nose. Moe was Vladorius' right-hand man, his reliable guy, always there to handle management issues when the king was on campaign or bedridden by Sloth, but especially to give more or less wise political advice thanks to his monumental autism.

Moe was followed by Edith (nicknamed Ed, but whose pseudonym was Edithea). Edith served as an aide-de-camp during Leon's campaigns in SoE. She and he knew each other well and worked efficiently together. Physically, she was a very beautiful woman, with a body sculpted by Aphrodite herself, even in real life. She had short-cut blonde hair and blue eyes. Also, she helped Vladorius organize the army.

Next came Quintus, who clicked his heels in the proud Prussian tradition, standing stiffly before his King. Second-in-command of the army behind Vladorius, he was a competent officer, with an aquiline nose and a stern look that hid a true wit and love for a good quip, always at the least appropriate moments.

Finally, it was Zlavichos' turn to present himself to Leon with his usual nonchalance, scratching his backside. The Vicar of the Cult of Zozo (a longtime companion who fell in battle) had curly hair and wore a huge unkempt beard; he walked around almost entirely naked and resembled Diogenes more than the Pope.

This team of misfits was gathered to lay out the next campaign plan…