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Description
Dorieus, prince of Sparta, was one of those many unfortunate victims to the unpredictable tide of history's course. Like many forgotten princes, he would've been much more famous had it not been for dynastic politics. Dorieus was the son of King Anaxandridas II, but not the first son. See, Anaxandridas and his wife (who was… also his niece) had trouble conceiving a child at first. The Ephors, Sparta's ever-scheming oligarchs, told Anaxandridas that he should ditch his niece for a shiny new model for the sake of producing an heir and securing peace in the kingdom. To his credit, Anaxandridas refused to abandon his bride, but still had no problem with the Ephors' follow-up proposal of just marrying a second wife alongside the first. Hey look if you're into that you're into that, but I get the feeling the first wife didn't have a say in the matter. This second wife was evidently ripe for the picking, producing Anaxandridas's first child, Cleomenes. Unfortunately for everyone involved, the gears of the old baby-making factory inside his first wife all of a sudden decided hey actually we will conceive a child now. After she had been barren for so long, the Ephors initially called bullshit until the results popped out of the oven. Three results, actually, triplets (although some say it was just the youngest two who were twins and they came later). The eldest was our subject today, Dorieus, the youngest was Cleombrotus, and the one in the middle was a figure you may have heard of: the famed Leonidas who would lead the 300 at the Battle of Thermopylae.

Now Cleomenes was reportedly a bit of a whackjob that no one liked, so Dorieus grew up assuming his brother would naturally be passed over. However, when their father died in 524 BCE, the Ephors gave the crown to the mad man Cleomenes, and hoooo boy was Dorieus pissed. He was so fed up with Sparta's dynastic politics, in fact, that he gathered a crew of like-minded men and just pissed off to parts unknown. He didn't even consult the Oracle of Delphi for advice on where to found his colony, as was the usual custom for such things. The more superstitious folk may say this is why his attempts to settle in Libya failed, but if you've heard any other inklings of "advice" that the Oracle is famous for giving, I think it's fair to assume consulting her would've been equally counterproductive. Despite this initial failure, Dorieus's next voyage was actually quite successful. He traveled to Magna Graecia, where he was hired as a mercenary by the city-state of Croton to help them wage war against their rival, Sybaris. For his efforts, he was awarded land to settle in Sicily, but unfortunately his luck turned again when his colony was sacked by the locals and their Carthaginian allies. Dorieus was slain in battle sometime around 510 BCE. Ironically, had he just stayed home and sucked it up, he would've ultimately become king of Sparta, as Cleomenes died in 490 BCE with no sons of his own. Instead, the throne passed to the next youngest brother, Leonidas, and that kid would go on to be more famous than the both of them combined. It's truly the little accidents of history that make things so interesting in hindsight.

Design notes, this was a design I mostly came up with whole cloth. His tunic and face are inspired by that one depiction of a Greek man painted in the tomb of Seti I though. I really wanted to explore the idea of an Africanized Spartan, a reference to his ventures in Libya. In the D&D game I ran in which he was a minor villain, I wanted to explore in his character a man who had come to disown Spartan culture, because what had it done for him besides rob him of his throne and give it to a lunatic? He and his crew abandoned Sparta on purpose, hoping to build a more just society somewhere beyond wartorn Egypt. The main villain of the campaign recruited them as mercenaries, offering aid in their colonization endeavor in return. Dorieus was a sympathetic man, though, so the party was able to talk with him diplomatically and convince him to abandon the blockade. Not what would be expected of a Spartan, surely, but that was kind of the point.

Description
Dorieus, prince of Sparta, was one of those many unfortunate victims to the unpredictable tide of history's course. Like many forgotten princes, he would've been much more famous had it not been for dynastic politics. Dorieus was the son of King Anaxandridas II, but not the first son. See, Anaxandridas and his wife (who was… also his niece) had trouble conceiving a child at first. The Ephors, Sparta's ever-scheming oligarchs, told Anaxandridas that he should ditch his niece for a shiny new model for the sake of producing an heir and securing peace in the kingdom. To his credit, Anaxandridas refused to abandon his bride, but still had no problem with the Ephors' follow-up proposal of just marrying a second wife alongside the first. Hey look if you're into that you're into that, but I get the feeling the first wife didn't have a say in the matter. This second wife was evidently ripe for the picking, producing Anaxandridas's first child, Cleomenes. Unfortunately for everyone involved, the gears of the old baby-making factory inside his first wife all of a sudden decided hey actually we will conceive a child now. After she had been barren for so long, the Ephors initially called bullshit until the results popped out of the oven. Three results, actually, triplets (although some say it was just the youngest two who were twins and they came later). The eldest was our subject today, Dorieus, the youngest was Cleombrotus, and the one in the middle was a figure you may have heard of: the famed Leonidas who would lead the 300 at the Battle of Thermopylae.

Now Cleomenes was reportedly a bit of a whackjob that no one liked, so Dorieus grew up assuming his brother would naturally be passed over. However, when their father died in 524 BCE, the Ephors gave the crown to the mad man Cleomenes, and hoooo boy was Dorieus pissed. He was so fed up with Sparta's dynastic politics, in fact, that he gathered a crew of like-minded men and just pissed off to parts unknown. He didn't even consult the Oracle of Delphi for advice on where to found his colony, as was the usual custom for such things. The more superstitious folk may say this is why his attempts to settle in Libya failed, but if you've heard any other inklings of "advice" that the Oracle is famous for giving, I think it's fair to assume consulting her would've been equally counterproductive. Despite this initial failure, Dorieus's next voyage was actually quite successful. He traveled to Magna Graecia, where he was hired as a mercenary by the city-state of Croton to help them wage war against their rival, Sybaris. For his efforts, he was awarded land to settle in Sicily, but unfortunately his luck turned again when his colony was sacked by the locals and their Carthaginian allies. Dorieus was slain in battle sometime around 510 BCE. Ironically, had he just stayed home and sucked it up, he would've ultimately become king of Sparta, as Cleomenes died in 490 BCE with no sons of his own. Instead, the throne passed to the next youngest brother, Leonidas, and that kid would go on to be more famous than the both of them combined. It's truly the little accidents of history that make things so interesting in hindsight.

Design notes, this was a design I mostly came up with whole cloth. His tunic and face are inspired by that one depiction of a Greek man painted in the tomb of Seti I though. I really wanted to explore the idea of an Africanized Spartan, a reference to his ventures in Libya. In the D&D game I ran in which he was a minor villain, I wanted to explore in his character a man who had come to disown Spartan culture, because what had it done for him besides rob him of his throne and give it to a lunatic? He and his crew abandoned Sparta on purpose, hoping to build a more just society somewhere beyond wartorn Egypt. The main villain of the campaign recruited them as mercenaries, offering aid in their colonization endeavor in return. Dorieus was a sympathetic man, though, so the party was able to talk with him diplomatically and convince him to abandon the blockade. Not what would be expected of a Spartan, surely, but that was kind of the point.