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I came, I saw, I conquered.
— Julius Caesar

Gaius Julius Caesar was a Roman politician and military commander in the first century BC, who played a major role in the transformation of the Roman Republic into the Roman Empire.

Caesar was born into a minor patrician family in 100 BC. Although his family boasted of a pedigree leading back to Aeneas, they held little actual political influence. His father died unexpectedly when Caesar was sixteen, suddenly thrusting the young man into the world of Roman politics. He rose quickly through the ranks, and he held numerous important positions.

In 60 BC, Caesar formed a political alliance with the military leaders Marcus Licinius Crassus and Pompey the Great, known as the First Triumvirate. Although they all harbored animosity for each other, all members cooperated with one another in order to advance their political standings.

Two years later, Caesar would become the governor of Roman Gaul. During his rule, he would conquer the territories of numerous Gallic tribes, expanding the province to reach the banks of the Rhine. His military exploits gained Caesar great fame and respect back in Rome, along with military experience that would prove invaluable in the years to come.

Once his term as governor ended, the Roman Senate (now controlled by an envious Pompey) demanded that Caesar disband his legions. Caesar refused, and made the drastic decision of entering Italy with his loyal legions still formed. This prompted a civil war with Pompey, which would end with Pompey's assassination, after he was defeated and fled to Egypt.

After Pompey's death, Caesar returned to Rome and was elected dictator for life. Caesar quickly put his new power to use, enacting several reforms in the Roman Senate, economy, and calendar. However, his rule did not last for long. The immense political power he gained as dictator made him numerous enemies in the Senate, twenty-three of which would participate in Caesar's assassination. His death infuriated the common people of Rome, who saw Caesar as their champion. Caesar's heir, Octavian, would avenge his predecessor‘s death and eventually become the first Roman Emperor.

Battle vs. Charlemagne (by Samurai234)[]

Julius Caesar: Grey Grey Grey Grey Grey

Charlemagne: Brown Brown Brown Brown Brown

In a dense forest area, Charlemagne and four Frank Warriors are walking across a hill, with Charlemagne himself on a horse. Up ahead, Julius Caesar and four Roman soldiers are walking toward the Franks, with Caesar himself also on a horse. The two sides soon meet and lock eyes, waiting for each other to make a move. Charlemagne unsheaths Joyeuse.

"Charge, men!" he yells.

The Franks charge forward, Lanceas, Axes, and swords drawn, ready to attack.

"Men, throw your Javelins!" yells Caesar.

The Roman soldiers throw thier Pilums at the Franks, disabing some thier shields and killing one. {C}Brown (5-4) One of the Franks hurls his Fransisca axe at one Roman and hits him in the face. Grey (4-4) Caeser grabs his Hasta and charges at that Frank. The Frank tries hurl another axe at him, but Caesar manages to make the first strike and stabs him through the heart. Brown (3-4)

Meanwhile, Charlemagne charges at a Roman soldier and slashes at him with Joyeuse, beheading him. Grey (3-3) One Roman soldier tries to throw a Pilum at Charlemagne, but another Frank acts quickly and throws his Lancea through his face. Grey (2-3) {C}The last Roman Soldier runs up to the Frank with a Dolabra. The Frank grabs a spiked club and knocks the Roman's helmet off. The Roman quickly strikes back though, and hits the Frank in his stomach, killing him. Brown (2-2) The last Frank act quickly though, and hurls his last Fransisca at him. Grey (1-2)

Caesar quickly gets off his horse and unsheaths Crocea Mors. He runs up to the last Frank and slashes himin the neck. Brown (1-1) Charlemagne charges at him with Joyeuse in hand. The two enter a sword fight, with Charlemagne gaining an edge due to his longer sword. Evenually, they enter a lock. Caesar breaks the lock and thrust his Pugio at the Frank king's stomach. However, because of his armor, it doesn't kill. Caesar tries to stab him in the face instead, but Charlemagne grabs him and puts him in a headlock. He puts his Seax next to the Roman's neck.

"Die, Pagan!" He yells. He swipes the blade, and Caesar falls over, dead. Grey (0-1)

The Frank King gets on his knees and says a prayer, thanking the lord for the victory.

WINNER: Charlemagne

Expert's Opinion[]

Please consider writing an expert's opinion as to why Charlemagne won.

To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.

Rematch vs. Charlemagne (by Lunathemoon123)[]

TBW.

Expert's Opinion[]

TBD.

To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.

Rematch Information[]

TBD.

Battle vs. Alexander the Great (by Goddess of Despair)[]

Alexander the Great Blue Blue Blue Blue Blue

Julius Caesar Red Red Red Red Red

Alexander rests in a field alongside his troops. Soon he would pursue the Persian king and finish what he started. His troops sharpen their weapons as the Greek scout returns with news. Eager for news on the Persian king, Alexander welcomes him back to the camp. “Did you spot the Persians?” asked Alexander. “No sir, but there was someone else.” Replied the scout. Alexander paused and thought for a moment. “Speak with their leader.” Said Alexander. The scout turned and mounted his horse.

Caesar’s troops began to construct their camp. They barely repelled the fierce attack by the Vandals .Caesar was not in the mood for any interference on his way to Rome. He looks on his troops with pride. They fought braver then any soldiers he ever commanded. He looked up at a nearby hill to see a man in riding down towards his camp on horseback. “More barbarians…” he thought to himself. He signaled one of his archers. “Take him out.” Said Caesar. The archer lifted his bow, pulling back the string he fired an arrow, ramming into the archer’s throat. His corpse fell off the horse which fled the battle. Caesar applauded the accurate shot but his applause fell silent when Alexander and his four troops came over the hill.

Alexander looked below to see his scouts’ corpse rolling down the hill. He examined the Roman forces and looked to his side. “Crossbowmen, fire!” Two soldiers lifted gastrophetes and fired. “Scutums!” yelled Caesar as his soldiers rush for their shields. One soldier is not fast enough and gets hit in the head. Red

Caesar walked over to his fallen archer and lifted his bow. He and his other archer pelted Alexander’s men with arrows. One hits an unfortunate crossbowman. Blue

Alexander’s crossbowman began to reload his gastrophetes as Alexander and his troops moved forward. Caesar dropped the Arcus bow and rushed for his horse. Caesar grabbed a Pilum off the ground and mounted his horse as Alexander approached. The Roman archer fired several arrows at Alexander, but they were deflected by his shield. The archer turned to flee but was not fast enough to escape a thrust from the xyston. Red

The Macedonian soldiers charge towards the Caesar’s troops. On throws a pilum which rams into one of the Macedonian’s shield. He tosses it aside and thrusts with his xyston. The spear goes right through the chainmail and the Roman coughs blood. He falls to his knees as another thrust to his throat finishes him off. Red

The other Macedonian was dueling with a Roman. He slashed high but the Roman parried and shoved him back with his scutum. He thrusted with his gladius and penetrated the man’s shoulder, causing him to drop his shield. A sudden slam with the scutum sends him to the ground as the Roman then stabs his gladius into the Macedonian’s head. Blue

He turns as a sudden thrust from a xyston hits his stomach. He falls to the ground, gripping the wound. Red

Alexander drops his xyston and draws his kopis as he spots Caesar mounted with a pilum. Caesar threw his pilum at Alexander. It rammed into his horses side causing the creature to collapse. Alexander stood up and saw Caesar riding towards him, gladius in hand. Alexander grabs his labrys axe and steps to the side slamming the axe into Caesar’s horse as he rode by. Caesar falls off and quickly gets to his feet as Alexander drops his axe and draws his kopis.

Caesar swung high with his gladius, but Alexander parried and kicked him back. Alexander tried to thrust but Caesar dodged and slashed at Alexander’s face. He left a large cut but it was not a enough for a kill. Alexander shoves Caesar back and slashes his hand. Caesar drops his gladius and roars in pain as Alexander smiles and delivers another slash to Caesar’s arm, severing it. Caesar fell to the ground as Alexander thrusted his kopis into his chest. Red

Expert's Opinion[]

This fight was close, but Alexander is able to grab a victory. Caesar was a good opponent, and his Arcus bow gave him a advantage at long range. The thing is, when Alexander closed that range, his better short range and medium range weapons would tear Caesar apart. Alexander also holds the the critical x-factors of tactics and expereince, which allowed him to outsmart Caesar. There is a reason why Alexander is called the great.

To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.

Battle vs. Shaka Zulu (by Wassboss)[]

This warrior won a Battle of the Month Award
This warrior won an Ancient Battle of the Year Award








RedRedRedRedRed: Julius Caesar

BrownBrownBrownBrownBrown: Shaka Zulu

The tribe elder watches the man sat in his home with caution. Having arrived earlier this day while, this stranger talked only of peace and friendship, about forging bonds between allies. “Easy to say when you’re followed by a small army of soldiers” the elder thinks to himself. Sadly his own best warriors were out fighting otherwise he would have had them banish this stranger with his talks of peace. The Elder can practically feel the veiled disgust dripping from every word as the man speaks to him. He’s met men like this before, men with skin pale as ghosts and they are all the same, they all look down on and despise him and his people. He waits patiently for the man to stop speaking.

“These are indeed kind words my honoured guest but our tribe has no use for your fancy promises or your offers of trade. We have survived for many generations without help from the Roman Empire and we’ll continue to survive many more.”

“I don’t think you quite understand” Julius Caesar says leaning forward in his seat, “I offer you this out of curtsey, to let you save face. Just look around you pathetic little village, there are no men to protect you and I have loyal legionnaires just a few miles north. You can either accept this generous offer or I’ll build roads with the bones of your goat herding ass.” He sits back in his chair and looks on with glee as the elder struggles to compose himself after such an insult. “I’ll give you some time to think about it,” he continues before the elder can reply. “It is getting late now so my guards and me will stay here tonight. You can tell me your decision in the morning.” He gets up from his seat and bows to the elder before leaving. “That’ll show him who’s really got the power” he thinks.

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Later that night Caesar is woken from his sleep by the sound of a scuffle outside of the house he is residing in. He quickly dresses himself in his armour and draws his sword just as one of his guards bursts into the room. “Sir we’re under attack” he says gasping before collapsing to the floor. Caesar moves over to him and peers down at him, seeing the spear lodged in his back. He exits the hut and immediately calls his men to him and the three closest men rush to his side, already suited up in their armour and shield. A fourth appears pushing the village elder in front of him, hurrying him along until he stands before Caesar.

“What the hell is going on” Caesar barks at him.

“It is Shaka of the Zulu Tribe,” the elder says “My greatest warriors are off fighting a battle against him in the east but that is many miles away. He must have taken some of his reserves with him and snuck up on us while we were unprepared.”

“So this foolish African thinks he can assassinate me in the night does he?” Caesar laughs. “Fine, let his reserves come at me, my ballista’s cocked and ready.” He beckons to the large crossbow device strapped to a tree. He leaves the elder and his guards follow him over to the contraption. Caesar shouts an order to the man stationed there but gets no reply and as they near they see him lying in a puddle of his own blood, his throat slashed. There is movement from the long grass and his guards immediately swivel towards it in perfect formation. Out from the grass steps a small group of men, shields raises slightly but otherwise dressed sparingly and a far cry from the heavily armoured Roman legionaries. One man makes his way to the front of the group, holding a short wooden stick his hand.

“Iwisa, meet Caesar; he’s a commander” he says mockingly which illicits a chuckle from the other men. “You think you can come into my land and try to take it from me,” he roars “but let me tell you, now that you’ve crossed the equator you’re heading straight into a massacre.” His men roar in agreement and Caesar watches on in amusement.

“You talk a lot of shit for a man wearing a diaper,” he retorts “cause' all I hear is threats from a brute with no discipline.” The Zulu leader glares at him with murder in his eyes. He lets out a holler, gestures with his hand and the men around him launch their Assegai at the band of Romans. They are well prepared though and the spears bounce harmlessly off the shield wall. Drawing their close quarters weapons the Zulu’s charge forward whooping and crash into the raised Scutums jabbing at anywhere they can. The legionnaires are actually pushed back by the ferocity of the attack but quickly regain their composure and a Zulu falls as several Gladius puncture his torso. Brown

Seeing one of their own down the Africans back off slightly but are spurred on by Shaka who takes the initiative and rushes forward himself. The Romans prepare themselves to restart the attack but Shaka surprises them all but planting his foot on an upturned Scutum and leaps over the wall, making a bee line for Caesar, who has retreated a couple of feet away. The guards turn around to protect their leader and the momentary lapse of concentration leaves them wide open to the remaining Zulu’s who step forward and plunge their spears into the unprotected backs. The armour protects most of them but one makes its way past the chainmail and the Roman cries out only to be silenced by another jab to the throat.Red

In response two of the remaining men turn to face the Zulu’s and the third rushes over to Caesar who is backing away and trying to remove his sword from its scabbard. He removes it just in time to block the Iwisa heading straight for him and dodges a follow up swipe from Shaka’s Iklwa. With his spare hand he takes his Ishlangu from his back and uses it deflect an attack from Caesar before moving out of the range of his Gladius. He catches movement out of the corner of his eye and raises his shield just in time to block a chop from a Gladius which causes a tear in the material. He looks at the Roman soldier in disgust before discarding the Shield and getting a tighter grip on the Iklwa.

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Meanwhile the other two Romans are struggling to deal with the Zulu’s speed and agility. The two men are packed tightly together, shields raised, which is severely restricting what they can do. The Zulu’s take full advantage and dart in and out just out of reach of the sword, yelling and trying to put the legionnaires off. Seeing that they are having no luck with their swords one of the men sheathes it and takes out a Pilum, hoisting it onto his shoulder. He lowers his shield for a split second and hurls the spear with all his might and it pierces one of the Zulu’s ishlangu and by freak chance goes right through the wielders arm as well. He shrieks in agony and his cries of pain raise the spirits of the weary soldiers. However instead of backing away the injured man actual runs forward and thrusts his Iklwa into the Scutum of one of the men but it has no effect on the man behind and the Roman slides the Gladius smoothly between the ribs. Brown

Now on even terms the Romans suddenly become more confident and push forward to force the Africans on the back foot. However in their excitement they quickly break formation and go for each warrior one on one. They trade blows with their shields with the Romans better metallurgy giving them a distinct advantage and it’s not long before one of the Zulu’s ishlangu has been battered and beaten out of shape. He discards it and grabs an axe from the bodies of one of his fallen comrades. He then uses the axe to hook the shield out of the Roman’s hand before hacking viciously into his now unprotected torso, the wicked blade of the axe slicing off the both the man’s arms before the Zulu plants it in his skull. Red. As he wrenches the weapon free the other Zulu slumps to the ground, a Pilum buried deep in his chest. Brown

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Meanwhile Shaka is struggling under the onslaught of Caesar and his bodyguard and it is taking all of his skill, speed and reflexes just to prevent a blade from finding its way into his chest. “I must admit, you’re quite impressive for a savage” Caesar says begrudgingly “but you’re no match for the most triumphant third of the Triumvirate.”

“I’ll dismember any emperors pasty white hordes” the African retorts and as he says that he ducks low to the ground and sweeps the bodyguards feet from under him with a swipe of his Iklwa. He then plunges the spear into the downed Roman to finish him off. Red. He then turns to Caesar but as he does the general flicks something towards him and he lifts his hands to cover his face, feeling something tear through the skin and making him look away to avoid injury to his eyes. He looks down and sees a small dart embedded in his skin. He pulls it out and snaps the flimsy projectile in his hand. “Do you really think this would do anything to a Zulu warrior, trained on thorns?” he asks but when he looks up he sees that Caesar has melted away into the night. Cursing to himself he rushes off after him, scooping up his Iwisa as he gives chase.

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The last remaining legionnaire and Zulu clash as they fight to avenge their fallen comrade. Now in a one on one the Zulu can use lack of armour to his advantage and dances around, effortlessly dodging the Gladius stabs and coming at the Roman with his axe but every blow just clatters off the Scutum. Suddenly the legionary slams into him and knocks him down, pinning him to the ground with the Scutum. His axe arm trapped behind his back, the Zulu struggles to get free but the sheer weight of the Roman and his shield are enough to hold him in place. Taking care not to give his trapped opponent a chance to wriggle free, the Roman takes out a dagger and waits till the opportunity presents itself and stabs the blade into his neck and twists it. He feels the resistance below him slowly drift away and he slowly gets to his feet looking down at the dying man before wandering off to find his master. Brown

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Shaka prowls through the long grass looking for any signs of the Roman general. The grasslands are eerily quiet and Shaka has lived in these lands long enough to know that means something is amiss. Keeping low he scans the area but can’t see to see his opponent anywhere. “Are you going to hide from me?” Shaka asks mockingly. “I would too if I had to face the ferocious power of the Zulus.” He stops his stooping and stands to his full height. “I have the strength of a lion and the speed of a cheetah. After this pathetic display everyone will know you’re just a chicken, Caesar!”

“Can I be a Hyena? Cause’ I’m going to laugh” calls a voice from the shadows and Shaka spins around spear raised. “Don’t go rattling your sticks at me” Caesar continues as he steps out from behind a rock. “I can’t have you insult me like that. When I’m finished with you, you might as well take that cow skin shield and hide under it.” He draws his Gladius and advances on the African King who can’t help but smile at the open challenge. The two trade blows with their respective weapon but after a short while it’s clear that the more physically fit Shaka is slowly gaining an advantage. He avoids a stab and rashly returns with a thrust of his own but he misjudges the distance and this gives Caesar the opportunity to slice the spear in half. Losing a bit of confidence, Shaka takes several paces back and Caesar grins at him. “Not so confident now are we my goat herding friend.”

“Watcha gonna do with your Roman swords” he shouts defiantly and draws his Iwisa from its holding. Caesar lets out a roar of laughter at the wooden stick which prickles Shaka’s pride and before he can react he leaps forward and knocks the sword out of his hand. Caesar immediately regrets his decision and he regrets it even more after several blows from the Iwisa drive him to his knees. He looks up, nose bleeding, eyes swollen but the anger is still plainly visible on his battered face. “You know what I’m going to do?” Shaka asks triumphantly “I’m going to knock off your dome and wrap it up in your own banner. Then I’ll send it back to Rome with a message from the Zulu which will read; if you battle Shaka, this what happen to you!” He raises the Iwisa to deliver the finishing blow when a battle cry is shouted from the grass and Caesar’s last bodyguard emerges from the brush and charges Shaka. The Zulu leader cranes his neck to face this new enemy and Caesar pulls the Pugio from his boot and rams it into Shaka’s stomach, tearing it across and pulling it out jerkily. He looks down at the gaping wound and as he does the bodyguard slams his shield into his face knocking him down to the ground, unconscious and bleeding heavily.

“Are you alright sir?” the man asks worriedly. He knows he has failed in his duty and his life lies in his hands.

“Perfectly fine. You saved me from a most unpleasant situation. I think that makes up for your lack of attention earlier.” The man sighs in relief. He looks at the prone figure of Shaka and draws his sword to finish him off but Caesar steps forward and stops him. “No, No. I have other plans for him” he says menacingly.

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Shaka blinks slowly in the glow of the midday African sun and he smiles at the promise of a new day. He quickly snaps out of this at the memory of the previous nights events but as he goes to move he falls flat on his face. He looks down and sees that his feet have been chained together. His confusion quickly turns to anger as Julius Caesar enters the tent, holding a bronze cup in his right hand.

“Release me at once!”

“Calm down savage. You don’t want to cause yourself too much strain that would I gave you wasn’t easy to treat.” Shaka looks down and sees the crimson scar across his belly. “You’ve been mostly unconscious for the past week. You woke up a couple of times but I doubt you remember them.”

“Why didn’t you kill me?” Shaka asks. Caesar looks at him and then gestures to someone outside of the tent. Two guards walk in and grab Shaka by both arms, leading him out into the encampment.

“Because there’s no use in murdering you and your heathen” he says and as Shaka exits the tent he sees the familiar faces of his wives and children and well as countless other members of the Zulu tribe. He looks on in horror and Roman legionnaires mercilessly beat some of his finest warriors as they chop wood or carry things, all of them in chains or tied up with rope. He slumps down dejected and Caesar leans forward, leering at his defeated opponent.

“You can grow my wheat for me, now that you’re beaten.

Winner Julius Caesar

Expert's Opinion[]

When it came down to it what really gave Julius Caesar the edge was that he and his soldiers had the far superior protection especially in the form of the the Scutum which could withstand anything Shaka and his men could throw at it. Caesar also had the advantage over being able to fight effectively on both terrains whereas Shaka would have found himself struggling in the confines of a Roman city.

To see the original battle, weapons and votes, click here.

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