Imperator: Resurrection of an Empire

The sea whispered of conquest.

Wind cut low across the Greecian Strait, raking salt and cold across sails pulled taut by the proud masts of the Imperium's Breath — flagship of the Romanus Western Fleet.

Behind her, spread in disciplined formation over the frothing blue, followed over two hundred warships — triremes, dromons, fire barges, and troop galleys — their hulls sleek and black with the war lacquer of Romanus, their prows shaped like wolves and gods.

The fleet sailed for weeks, having launched first from Romanus across numerous ports, travelling through the strait while checking and confirming the conquest of the Achaeian coasts, even after getting out of the straight and entering the western seas, they did not leave sight of the coastline, their goal to advance only as far as Cavalry General Elheat had taken his own forces.

This was achieved after much shock to the Romanus sailors as they finally reached the final point of the expeditionary forces march.

Achaleon, one of the most northern warm water ports, of Achae before you get to the bay separating Francia from Achae.

General Elheats conquest was going extremely well, and thanks to that the Navy had a fantastic staging point from which to launch their own invasion, while the Germanians continued to engage the Achaeian mainland forces as they struggled to advance on the mainland.

~

From the watchtowers atop the reconstituted port-city of Achaleon, signal fires lit the harbor sky, mirrored by brass mirrors and semaphore flags, each relaying the final order from the command ship.

Launch.

And so the navy moved.

For thousands of years, the western shores of Francia had been considered untouchable.

Not because of terrain but because it was unfeasible, why bother doing a risky operation such as a naval landing when you could just go by land?

Not to mention the fact that even if you did land successfully you'd need to constantly ferry in supplies to keep those forces fed.

But Julius had built his empire on one simple truth: what is thought to be impossible is simply unchallenged.

And he had brought with him the Iron Navy — vessels born from the fires of Romanus's industrial forges, hulls reinforced with braced plating, internal decks built to withstand siege impacts, and marine holds that could unload five hundred troops onto a beach in under seven minutes.

~

First Landing – Coast of Egrance

The storm broke three hours before landfall.

Francia's western ridge loomed like jagged teeth above the slate waters, lightning cracking the world into pale fragments.

But Romanus ships did not slow.

The Gilded Fang, first of the breach line, rode the storm like a spear, cresting each wave with brutal grace.

Marines within — six hundred men clad in ocean-tempered bronze and black naval leather — readied grapnels and storm shields.

When the tide brought them close, the ships crested onto the shoreline, and even before stopping completely the marines started pouring over the sides, while gangplans were dropped as well allowing for a stead stream of forces to land.

The first guards of the Francian coast fortress of Cermaux never had a chance to light the alarm pyres.

They were dragged screaming into the sea, having been hiding from the ferocity of the raging storm completely unaware of the invasion happening right outside his post.

By the second hour, the fortress was taken completly.

By dawn, so was the entire port adjacent.

~

Three More Landings.

Each executed in less than a day.

Villages torched only when needed.

Bastions converted, not destroyed.

The locals — stunned, confused, abandoned by central command — did not even know Francia had been invaded from the west.

They thought the flames were pirates.

Or spirits.

They did not believe in Romanus iron rising from the waves.

Not until they were already on their knees.

~

Achaleon Naval Command — Day Seven

The admiral of the Western Fleet, Ionus Cael Varro, stood atop the signal tower, arms crossed behind his back.

He bore no cape, no medals.

Only the steel-threaded uniform of a Romanus sea wolf, and a single tattoo across his neck:

"Currents obey Iron."

To his side stood the envoy of the Iron Legion, the Romanus navy had returned to Achae after dropping off all Marines to resupply and return to bring up the means with which to maintain control over the conquested region.

Meanwhile now he was watching as hundred if not thousands of men and horses were being loaded onto his ships, the transports ship displacement allowing for the heavy units, and while the request would take a trip or two, the Admiral did not disobey the request.

Elheat's orders had arrived on black-sealed parchment:

Split the second army.

Half to the north.

Half by sea.

Take their shores before they can blink.

Meet me in blood.

Ionus smiled.

There was no pomp in the man's face.

No ceremony in the movements of the legions boarding the ships behind them.

Just motion.

Forward.

Ionus raised a hand. A flare arrow shot skyward.

All across the harbor, ship horns sounded.

Ropes were loosed.

Oars slid from their sheaths.

And the sea welcomed Romanus again.

~

Western Francia – Day Twelve

Elheat's half of the Iron Legion stormed the fourth beachhead at Port Kersault, quickly spreading out and routing the local militia forming in the countryside in under twenty minutes.

There were no battlements. No towers.

Only trade docks, merchant homes, and arrogance.

The same arrogance Julius had counted on.

Within hours, the Romanus banner flew over a dockyard never before touched by foreign feet.

By dusk, supply cranes were converting the docks into naval landing stations.

By midnight, signal towers had been constructed — relaying updates to the rest of the Western Fleet, now sailing north in a long crescent, dragging Iron with them like a cloak.

The Romanus marine force was intended to capture the coasts, and dig in.

Breaking Francia's hopes of receiving foreign aid once things got really bad, but with Elheats single change the Iron cavalry had the ability to ride almost virtually unopposed across the Francian heartland, sowing calamity in their wake.

The Francia people who had only heard inklings of a war were now caught on the frontlines left to wonder why the King and the nobles had allowed this to happen.

Though Romanus conquered they did so amicably.

Spreading propaganda news spreading the truth kept secret by the powers that ruled over them.

The public was quick to shift their stance becoming neutral against the invaders after many believed the news that the Prince had stolen the Imperial Empress and provoked Romanus into coming in to rescue her.

The public had heard for years about Prince Amaury, his reputation was not all that high and rather than famous you could say he was instead infamous.

Meanwhile the commoners hearing the news that the nobles had pulled back to defend the royal capital leaving the commoners to fend for themselves, but when Romanus did nothing more than march in and replace flags before talking peacefully about take over.

Only ever coming to blows when arms were raised against them... well their national identity started to slip little by little.