My names are many, Kalas of Gomphi, Kalas the Harsh, Kalas the Conqueror and Kalas the Dacian-Killer. I Come from a wealthy noble family of Macedonia, my forefathers was well known warriors under Alexander the Great.
I had for a long time been in a military career, serving as a captain under King Gyras the Mighty. At the age of thirty (250 BC) the king offered me the great honor of marrying his niese and become a member of the royal house.
That was my way into fame, I was then appointed governor of Bylazora, a place which I stayed for long. Fending the borders off from Dacians invaders from the north alongside the king's son, now King Abreas, who resided in Thrace.
The Dacian front was silent at first, but Memmon of Ottobulus had become sickened by the plague and decided to end his life in battle instead of a filthy bed of disease. He moved swiftly into Dacia, raided and sacked many towns before allmighty Ares finally granted him his wish, to die in battle. I had caught the plague myself, and it was a great fear of mine to die in my bed by sickness, but by the hands of the gods I was saved from the wrath of Hades. The sickness gradually left my body and I was ready to perform worthy and manly deeds. I was then near my mid forties.
The Dacians king Verceous was infuriated, he sent one of his generals with a horde of filthy barbarian scum towards my beloved province of Paionia. I marched my grand army of brave Macedonians and Thracians to the bridge that the barbarians would need to use in order to get across the river Danube.
Ten thousand savages stood on the other side, ready to be slain by the heirs of Alexander. They slightly outnumbered us, but not by much. A group of brave and experienced warriors formed a phalanx, holding their sarissas towards any Dacians trying to get on our side of the bridge.
That one unit of diciplined pikemen stood their ground against waves upon waves of undiciplined hordes of savages, such a magnificient valour displayed on that day had I never seen before. Upon seeing the enemy begin to waver, I charged with my bodyguard into their masses, followed by the rest of the cavalry and the entire army in the back. The enemy general stood chanceless against our massive charge, and I personally liberated his head from his body. The day was won, and celebrated. Few men of Macedon had lost their lives on the bridge of Panonia, nearly all the savages lay spread on the bridge, in the river and all over the bloody fields.
After hearing the death of Mighty king Gyras, a peaceful death in his bed at an old age, in a letter from his son, King Aloeus, I issued to the new king a plan for the complete destruction of Dacia. It was my goal, to liberate the civilized world from these mere sub-humans, these peasant scum not worthy of living, this great threat to the civilians of Macedon. At least, that was what I told the king, to my men I told stories of honor and bravery, about how much loot they would gain, and of all other things that make men into warriors. I wanted personal glory, I wanted to set my mark in the history books for years to come. What better would it not be than to lay destruction to a people? Who does not remember the men who burnt Troy?
Upon hearing of my plans to advance into the heartland of Dacia, mercenaries arrived at my command ready to kill for some dinari. Sarmatians, Illyrians, Basternaeans and some Germanians far south of their homeland, these men without a land of their own, ready to serve whoever fill their bags of gold now joined my worthy cause in great numbers.
The army marched northwards, first into Tribus Iazyges where we met only small resistance. The town was captured after a small battle and the savage Dacians was put to the swords one by one, men, women, children, none was spared. The city was then set on fire and we prepared to cross back into Dacia where the king's sons would await us with a twice as large an army as that of our own.
The brave Macedonians, well most of the army was made up of foreign mercenaries, met the filthy Dacians in what was to become one of the famous battles in history.
I rallied my men and spoke to them: "Sons of Macedon. Today, we face an enemy two times our size. But number has no meaning to you! Great warriors of Macedon! These barbarians may be many, and they may be brave. But what is bravery without dicipline? I see in front of me an army of my countrymen, in blood or spirit, ready to hold their ground, in the name of king and country! I say this, strength and glory to you all! For Macedon!!"
The men shouted warcries towards the enemy, preparing for a fight.
We lined up a defence, as the Dacians were the attackers. The peltasts let their spears rain upon the enemy by the hundreds as the savages charged towards us. When the Dacians engaged us the fighting was bloody, it was hard to keep control of it, bravery and dicipline would become the key to that victory. And of course, a flanking maneuver with some Macedonian and Sarmatian cavalry. In the end, thousands of barbarian scum lay dead in the snow, the gods had blessed us once more and my deeds would become wideknown across the kingdom.
It is said, on that day, a horseman was by the touch of Zeus given the wings of pegasus in order to terrify the enemy and give spirit. All of us who witnessed it know it to be true, though they who were not there dismiss it as mere fantasy.
The two sons of Verceous got killed on that day, and with them the only remaining possible heirs to the crown of Dacia. The innhabitants of Porolissum was slain, and the city was laid in ashes by our torches. There was only ruins left, and a rebel army would take control as we left the town. The Dacian king had taken back Campus Iazyges, it was time to put him to the sword and end the kingdom of Dacia once and for all. By then, Dacia's population had been reduced by at least 75%, by both my and Memmon of Ottobulus' works. While marching back into Iazyges I heard terrifying news, our great king, Aleous the Conqueror had been killed in battle against the Roman scum. His invasion of Sicily had failed. I chose not to tell my men about this until after we had defeated the Dacians, to not troubble their minds with other matters at this moment. The Romans would be delt with later, after dealing with the Dacians, I may choose to invade Italy from the north, who knows. The town of Iazyges was reached in the summer (of 230BC) and put under siege. The inpatient king of Dacia could not restrain himself from attempting to lift the siege and drive me out of his land once and for all. As the snow arrived, the final and bloodiest battle of Dacia would take place. The last large Dacian army stormed out of their stronghold, we waited outside for them to come. By this time, few Macedonians were left in the army, mostly mercenary peltasts were still in it, many newly joined. But one can say they are all Macedonians, in spirit that is. Their army was mostly made up of peasants, something which nearly took the glory out of it all. it was a slaughter, the remaining cavalry of my army took care of their king, hunting him down and killing him. Ending the dynasty of Dacia. But the peasants would not give up yet. They fought mostly till the end, though some decided to flee, for some unknown reason. What would they flee to? Victory was ours I am writing this six months after the destruction of Dacia, it is summer now, we are moving into Noricum, which was destroyed earlier by Memmon of Ottobolus. King Abreas has ordered me to take control of the army stationed in the fort placed on the border of Venetia and Dalmatia, his cousin Deukalos died a few years earlier and it is currently run by captains. We will march through the alps and I will take command of that army, who knows, maybe there will be more glorious deeds to perform before life runs out of my veins? [This message has been edited by King Yngvar (edited 11-05-2004 @ 09:16 PM).]
After painting the fields red in Dacian blood we marched into the center of the village, where a few Dacian peasants had decided to end their lives. They were put to the sword in a last bloody fight. Dacia is no more! Shouted my men in the joy of victory, all hail Kalas, the killer of Dacians!