Dojo Darelir, the School of Xenograg the Sorcerer

The purpose of war is not battle; it is a more perfect peace. To attain peace, a belligerent must break the will of the enemy people to wage war. No nation goes to war to fight; it goes to attain its national purpose. It may be that a nation must destroy the enemy’s army to achieve this purpose. But the destruction is not the end; it is only the incidental by-product or the means to the end.

If a commander looks at the peace he is seeking at the conclusion of war, he may find numerous ways of attaining it by avoiding the enemy’s main force and striking at targets that may destroy the enemy’s desire or ability to wage war.

— Bevin Alexander, How Great Generals Win, p. 30

In [the] provincial government [of the Ottoman Empire] no distinction was drawn between civil and military authority. The administration of large cities like Damascus or great provinces like Egypt was entrusted to pashas, this being a title, not an office, indicating that its holder had been admitted to the highest ruling circle of the empire and membership of the Divan, or State Council. These officials were regularly transferred from one post to another, to prevent them from developing local loyalties or building personal systems of patronage and power. Practice was somewhat different in the conquered territories of Balkan Europe…where senior officials normally retained office for long periods of time. European Turkey was considered to be an administrative unity called the Eyalet of Rumeli, whose supreme governor was the Beglierbeg; during the 1540’s [C.E.] two new Hungarian beglierbegliks were created, with their capitals at Buda and Temesvar. The area was subdivided during the fifteenth century into sanjaks, most of which were reorganized during the sixteenth century into twenty-four pashaliks, governed, as their name implies, by officers of the rank of pasha, who were, however, as in other frontier regions of the empire, entitled begs.

— Paul Coles, The Ottoman Impact on Europe, pp. 43-44

Emphasis mine.

Xenograg’s title of bey is a cultural variant of beg.

There are five skills and four desires involved in generalship. The five skills are:

1. skill in knowing the disposition and power of enemies,
2. skill in knowing the ways to advance and withdraw,
3. skill in knowing how empty or how full countries are,
4. skill in knowing nature’s timing and human affairs, and
5. skill in knowing the features of terrain.

The four desires are:

1. desire for the extraordinary and unexpected in strategy,
2. desire for thoroughness in security,
3. desire for calm among the masses, and
4. desire for unity of hearts and minds.

— Thomas Cleary (translator and editor), Mastering the Art of War, p. 42

The 6th-century [C.E. Byzantine] soldier was in fact much more than a cavalryman: he had become an all-around mounted warrior. With his bow he could skirmish at a distance, but he was also heavily armoured and well equipped for close mounted combat. When a steady force was needed to hold ground, he was quite happy to dismount and fight as a heavy infantryman. On many occasions Belisarius took only cavalrymen with him, and when Narses needed steady infantry, he dismounted his cavalry.

— Simon MacDowall, Late Roman Cavalryman: 236-565 AD, p. 24

Like the Chinese, the Romans divided the world into civilisation and the lands beyond its sway, and while they sometimes of necessity resorted to diplomacy (in their dealings with the Armenians and other old-established kingdoms, for example), they did so for reasons of expediency alone, not as one state treating with its equivalent. There was, indeed, no reason for them to do so….

— John Keegan, A History of Warfare, pp. 278-79