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Description
The Crisis of the Third Century left the Roman Empire in absolute shambles. A shadow of its former glory (which let's be honest, was already pretty fragile), the imperial throne was tentatively handed to Diocletian in 284 CE. Realizing that Rome was frankly too big for its britches, Diocletian split the Empire into two halves, east and west, with his comrade Maximian being made emperor of the west. In 293, Diocletian updated this to the Tetrarchy, wherein both emperors (or "augusti") would be assigned a junior "caesar" who were expected to succeed the emperors when they died. This system barely lasted a generation, though. Diocletian abdicated his throne in 305 due to illness, and as soon as he was gone, his successor, Galerius, almost immediately got into a spat with the Western Emperor Constantius and his upstart son, Constantine. Constantine and his counterpart, Maxentius (son of Maximian), usurped power in their respective provinces with the support of the army, which royally pissed off Galerius. After he failed to secure military victory and the support of the people, Galerius caved in 310, promoting the Tetrarchy to four augusti. Of course, the advice that Emperor Augustus was given all the way back in 30 BCE rings true: too many Caesars is not good. When Galerius died in 311, the stage was set for Constantine to begin the conquest of his remaining rivals.

Constantine met the army of Maxentius at the Milvian Bridge in 312. Sources differ on the exact details, but legend has it that on the eve of battle, Constantine looked into the sun and saw a vision which would shape the course of human history. Supposedly, he witnessed a cross made of light in the sky, accompanied by the words "In this sign, you shall conquer". Constantine was a man who grew up with plenty of exposure to the still relatively new and underground religion of Christianity, and though his own faith is a bit of a gray area, it is clear that he interpreted his vision as a sign from the heavens. Constantine ordered his men to paint the Chi-Rho, a symbol made from the first two letters of Christ's name in Greek, on their shields. And in this sign they conquered. Maxentius was trounced, freeing Constantine up to deal with his eastern rival, Licinius, whom he defeated in 324. Thus, the Roman Empire was united under one sovereign yet again, with his capital moved to his newly founded city on the Bosporus, Constantinople (which is now Istanbul, not Constantinople, so if you've a date in Constantinople, she'll be waiting in Istanbul).

Uniquely, Rome was now also united under a Christian Emperor as well. Indeed, since Constantine's rivals were devout pagans, battles like the Milvian Bridge have long since been painted as a war for the fate of the two faiths, even if the players at the time didn't necessarily see it that way. Still, it's impossible to talk about the history of Christianity without the influence of Constantine. In 313, he issued the Edict of Milan, making Christianity legal in the Empire. In 325, he assembled the Council of Nicaea, which was supposed to be a meeting of church leaders from across the empires to settle differences within the faith. In practice, it was a totally wacky episode of history which got so heated and pedantic that Saint Nicholas (yes that Saint Nicholas) got up and sucker punched a heretic's lights out mid session. History is awesome. Constantine did not, however, make Christianity the official state religion of Rome. That distinction fell to Theodosius and his 380 Edict of Thessalonica. Since then, those old Roman roads which have long since connected all of Europe into one network were used to carry missionaries and pilgrims to the farthest corners of the empire, spreading the word of Christ as they saw fit. Of course, while many of the tribes surrounding Rome's borders accepted Christianity, they didn't always accept the version of Christianity laid out by the Council of Nicaea. The Goths, for example, followed the now extinct Arianism (the details of which are so specific and confusing that it's beyond the scope of this blurb). While a minor difference, it was one of the first cracks in the relationship with the Germanic peoples which would ultimately spell the end of the Western Roman Empire…

See, by the 5th century, Rome was in crisis. Again. I know, I'm shocked too. I'm not mad, Rome, just disappointed. In 410, the city of Rome itself, long since abandoned as a governmental capital, was sacked by the invading Visigoths. This was the first time the Eternal City had been taken by a foreign army in 800 years, and was such a shocking crisis that the Romans had to completely abandon Britain to deal with it. These Visigoths were descendants of refugees fleeing a much, much more powerful threat thundering in from the eastern steppe: the Huns. The Huns were a mysterious confederation of peoples originally from the northern border of China. By 445, they were led by a larger than life warlord named Attila. Attila was held off by the Roman commander Aetius until, for unclear reasons, he had the Hunnic army retreat back eastward, where he would die in 453, possibly assassinated by his wife. This was not the end of the strife, however. The Germanic Vandals, who had conquered Carthage in 439 and established a powerful kingdom in North Africa, sacked the city of Rome in 455. This destruction was so thorough that to this day, modern English uses the word "vandalize" to describe the ruin of public property. That's certainly one way to make sure you're remembered by future generations. Maybe I should switch to leveling cities instead of sitting in my room with a pencil all day.

The Vandal sack of Rome is widely considered the death knell of the Western Roman Empire. During all of this chaos, Rome had ironically employed many prominent Germanic mercenaries who eventually did what the army always did: decide who gets to be Emperor. In 476, that Germanic contingent overthrew the boy emperor Romulus Augustulus, and replaced him with one of their generals, Odoacer. Odoacer swore that he was actually just a vassal king subservient to Zeno, emperor of the East, and not an emperor in his own right. Zeno looked at this situation and just kinda said… yeah okay sure, because he was busy securing his own throne in Constantinople. In fact, Zeno decided that the best way to kill two birds with one stone was to hire one of the barbarians at his gates, Theodoric, to conquer Western Rome instead of Eastern Rome. By 493, Theodoric had conquered Italy and assassinated Odoacer, establishing the Kingdom of Italy and ending the Roman Empire once and for all.

Except no because of course we still had the Eastern Roman Empire going strong this whole time. It's usually at this point that historians switch to using the term "Byzantine Empire" to refer to the East, but this is a modern designation which the people themselves never used. To them, they were just Romans, and no one really doubted that. Zeno died in 491 and was succeeded by his wife's other favorite boy toy, Anastasius. Anastasius primarily spent his reign focused not on the west, which everyone knew was just a lost cause at this point, but the east. Specifically, he had to tiptoe around the very fragile relationship that Byzantium had with Sassanid Iran. This debacle was inherited by his successor Justin in 518, and Justin's nephew in 527. This nephew was Justinian, who I think is one of the greatest Roman Emperors ever to live. This is a man who needs a Netflix series. After his main man Belisarius fended off the Persians at the Battle of Dara, and brought order back to Constantinople during the Nika Riots, Justinian assigned him to go get back what was rightfully theirs: Rome herself. And he did it, the mad lad. In 536, Belisarius reclaimed Rome from the Ostrogothic king, the half-elf Vitiges. The story really should've ended there, but sadly, war with the Sassanids, internal rivalries, and the insidious Plague of 542 ultimately forced Justinian to abandon Rome. While there would be attempts, the Eternal City would never again belong to the Roman Empire, only to a whole host of different states claiming to be the true successors, much to the chagrin of the Byzantines. That is where I will leave this story off for now, though. I'm currently working on a project set in 536, and all my research really leads me to conclude this is the best stopping point to pick up another time.

Design notes, this was another one that was relatively straight forward. Like I said in the blurb for the Republic era soldiers, the Roman military was quite standardized. There's a few less depictions of Late Roman period armor out there, but the gaps are minimal, and I filled them in with elements of later Byzantine armor. The most obnoxious one to design was the elite, though I ultimately decided to take inspiration from icons of the so-called Military Saints. Not quite sure how accurate to their historical counterparts their armors are, but they look close enough, and the designs cut a pretty sick figure. The helmet specifically is based on the Berkasovo ridge helmet, though I'm not certain I captured its shape very well. I don't know why, but helmets with cheek guards always throw me off. Something about the shape just doesn't contort properly when I'm drawing. Ah well, something to practice on.

Description
The Crisis of the Third Century left the Roman Empire in absolute shambles. A shadow of its former glory (which let's be honest, was already pretty fragile), the imperial throne was tentatively handed to Diocletian in 284 CE. Realizing that Rome was frankly too big for its britches, Diocletian split the Empire into two halves, east and west, with his comrade Maximian being made emperor of the west. In 293, Diocletian updated this to the Tetrarchy, wherein both emperors (or "augusti") would be assigned a junior "caesar" who were expected to succeed the emperors when they died. This system barely lasted a generation, though. Diocletian abdicated his throne in 305 due to illness, and as soon as he was gone, his successor, Galerius, almost immediately got into a spat with the Western Emperor Constantius and his upstart son, Constantine. Constantine and his counterpart, Maxentius (son of Maximian), usurped power in their respective provinces with the support of the army, which royally pissed off Galerius. After he failed to secure military victory and the support of the people, Galerius caved in 310, promoting the Tetrarchy to four augusti. Of course, the advice that Emperor Augustus was given all the way back in 30 BCE rings true: too many Caesars is not good. When Galerius died in 311, the stage was set for Constantine to begin the conquest of his remaining rivals.

Constantine met the army of Maxentius at the Milvian Bridge in 312. Sources differ on the exact details, but legend has it that on the eve of battle, Constantine looked into the sun and saw a vision which would shape the course of human history. Supposedly, he witnessed a cross made of light in the sky, accompanied by the words "In this sign, you shall conquer". Constantine was a man who grew up with plenty of exposure to the still relatively new and underground religion of Christianity, and though his own faith is a bit of a gray area, it is clear that he interpreted his vision as a sign from the heavens. Constantine ordered his men to paint the Chi-Rho, a symbol made from the first two letters of Christ's name in Greek, on their shields. And in this sign they conquered. Maxentius was trounced, freeing Constantine up to deal with his eastern rival, Licinius, whom he defeated in 324. Thus, the Roman Empire was united under one sovereign yet again, with his capital moved to his newly founded city on the Bosporus, Constantinople (which is now Istanbul, not Constantinople, so if you've a date in Constantinople, she'll be waiting in Istanbul).

Uniquely, Rome was now also united under a Christian Emperor as well. Indeed, since Constantine's rivals were devout pagans, battles like the Milvian Bridge have long since been painted as a war for the fate of the two faiths, even if the players at the time didn't necessarily see it that way. Still, it's impossible to talk about the history of Christianity without the influence of Constantine. In 313, he issued the Edict of Milan, making Christianity legal in the Empire. In 325, he assembled the Council of Nicaea, which was supposed to be a meeting of church leaders from across the empires to settle differences within the faith. In practice, it was a totally wacky episode of history which got so heated and pedantic that Saint Nicholas (yes that Saint Nicholas) got up and sucker punched a heretic's lights out mid session. History is awesome. Constantine did not, however, make Christianity the official state religion of Rome. That distinction fell to Theodosius and his 380 Edict of Thessalonica. Since then, those old Roman roads which have long since connected all of Europe into one network were used to carry missionaries and pilgrims to the farthest corners of the empire, spreading the word of Christ as they saw fit. Of course, while many of the tribes surrounding Rome's borders accepted Christianity, they didn't always accept the version of Christianity laid out by the Council of Nicaea. The Goths, for example, followed the now extinct Arianism (the details of which are so specific and confusing that it's beyond the scope of this blurb). While a minor difference, it was one of the first cracks in the relationship with the Germanic peoples which would ultimately spell the end of the Western Roman Empire…

See, by the 5th century, Rome was in crisis. Again. I know, I'm shocked too. I'm not mad, Rome, just disappointed. In 410, the city of Rome itself, long since abandoned as a governmental capital, was sacked by the invading Visigoths. This was the first time the Eternal City had been taken by a foreign army in 800 years, and was such a shocking crisis that the Romans had to completely abandon Britain to deal with it. These Visigoths were descendants of refugees fleeing a much, much more powerful threat thundering in from the eastern steppe: the Huns. The Huns were a mysterious confederation of peoples originally from the northern border of China. By 445, they were led by a larger than life warlord named Attila. Attila was held off by the Roman commander Aetius until, for unclear reasons, he had the Hunnic army retreat back eastward, where he would die in 453, possibly assassinated by his wife. This was not the end of the strife, however. The Germanic Vandals, who had conquered Carthage in 439 and established a powerful kingdom in North Africa, sacked the city of Rome in 455. This destruction was so thorough that to this day, modern English uses the word "vandalize" to describe the ruin of public property. That's certainly one way to make sure you're remembered by future generations. Maybe I should switch to leveling cities instead of sitting in my room with a pencil all day.

The Vandal sack of Rome is widely considered the death knell of the Western Roman Empire. During all of this chaos, Rome had ironically employed many prominent Germanic mercenaries who eventually did what the army always did: decide who gets to be Emperor. In 476, that Germanic contingent overthrew the boy emperor Romulus Augustulus, and replaced him with one of their generals, Odoacer. Odoacer swore that he was actually just a vassal king subservient to Zeno, emperor of the East, and not an emperor in his own right. Zeno looked at this situation and just kinda said… yeah okay sure, because he was busy securing his own throne in Constantinople. In fact, Zeno decided that the best way to kill two birds with one stone was to hire one of the barbarians at his gates, Theodoric, to conquer Western Rome instead of Eastern Rome. By 493, Theodoric had conquered Italy and assassinated Odoacer, establishing the Kingdom of Italy and ending the Roman Empire once and for all.

Except no because of course we still had the Eastern Roman Empire going strong this whole time. It's usually at this point that historians switch to using the term "Byzantine Empire" to refer to the East, but this is a modern designation which the people themselves never used. To them, they were just Romans, and no one really doubted that. Zeno died in 491 and was succeeded by his wife's other favorite boy toy, Anastasius. Anastasius primarily spent his reign focused not on the west, which everyone knew was just a lost cause at this point, but the east. Specifically, he had to tiptoe around the very fragile relationship that Byzantium had with Sassanid Iran. This debacle was inherited by his successor Justin in 518, and Justin's nephew in 527. This nephew was Justinian, who I think is one of the greatest Roman Emperors ever to live. This is a man who needs a Netflix series. After his main man Belisarius fended off the Persians at the Battle of Dara, and brought order back to Constantinople during the Nika Riots, Justinian assigned him to go get back what was rightfully theirs: Rome herself. And he did it, the mad lad. In 536, Belisarius reclaimed Rome from the Ostrogothic king, the half-elf Vitiges. The story really should've ended there, but sadly, war with the Sassanids, internal rivalries, and the insidious Plague of 542 ultimately forced Justinian to abandon Rome. While there would be attempts, the Eternal City would never again belong to the Roman Empire, only to a whole host of different states claiming to be the true successors, much to the chagrin of the Byzantines. That is where I will leave this story off for now, though. I'm currently working on a project set in 536, and all my research really leads me to conclude this is the best stopping point to pick up another time.

Design notes, this was another one that was relatively straight forward. Like I said in the blurb for the Republic era soldiers, the Roman military was quite standardized. There's a few less depictions of Late Roman period armor out there, but the gaps are minimal, and I filled them in with elements of later Byzantine armor. The most obnoxious one to design was the elite, though I ultimately decided to take inspiration from icons of the so-called Military Saints. Not quite sure how accurate to their historical counterparts their armors are, but they look close enough, and the designs cut a pretty sick figure. The helmet specifically is based on the Berkasovo ridge helmet, though I'm not certain I captured its shape very well. I don't know why, but helmets with cheek guards always throw me off. Something about the shape just doesn't contort properly when I'm drawing. Ah well, something to practice on.