The Lost Legions- Teutoberg forest

[Aiden]

AD 9

Three legions (17th, 18th and 18th) under the command of Publius Quinctilius Varus marched north into Germania to make camp for the summer. Despite the cold and damp conditions, the army marches in near single file through the soggy forest with the thought of wide open and dry camps during the upcoming summer months. Only the sound of armor shifting and wet ground sloshing beneath foot and hooves can be heard for miles during the day time. At night the forest becomes different, pitch blank, colder and much more frightening to all, even the most veteran of Roman soldiers...

[Lyrus]

The tall silver pole with a conical-shaped head held up a narrow trapezoidal base, upon which a gilded bronze eagle with raised-up wings was surrounded by a laurel wreath of the same material, topped by a leaf-shaped spearhead. The bird's fierce gaze seemed to penetrate deep into the depths of the dense forest, undeterred by the miserable conditions and seemingly neverending greenery. The Aquila Signifer - the Aquilifer - holding the standard marched at a steady rhythym, matching the pace of the Legionaries around him; the proud Heavy Infantrymen of the Roman Legions that had trampled all over the known world, and was now marching deep into Germanic Territories. The Cohort that Gnaeus Livius Galeo had been assigned to was composed of mainly mercenaries and native soldiers, though there was a substantial amount of proper Roman Legionaries as well.

The sword scabbard Gnaeus wore at his side was hardly used; his main duty in battle was the hold the proud Eagle Standard aloft, giving heart to all men around it and rallying those who had gotten lost in the fury of battle. His battle was a personal battle, one of pride and importance, and only if the enemy had charged right up close to his position, would he sink the pole to the ground, draw his blade, and meet them in vicious combat. He kept his eyes alert, while men around him stifled yawns and as they marched. The forest unnerved him - and few things unnerved him, for he, Gnaeus, had been through a long and hard military career; few things could faze him. Yet this forest unsettled him; and he kept cautious ... for better a suspicious man than a dead man.

[Federico]

Splosh.

Hooves should not do this noise.

Splosh.

Publius curses the weather, the forest, the trees. He's forced to walk, because his horse would be too tired otherwise. He wonders if this was worth the effort. Three legions, advancing so fast in unknown territory, just to bend the Germans into paying tribute. What could Rome gain from their miserable tribute. He wishes for his family house, the olive trees, the rolling countryside.

Splosh.

He looks on his side, trees, on the back, trees, while in front of him he has trees. The legion lines are thin, stretches in the march. In front of him, the signifier.

Splosh.

Publius glances on the sides. Apart from his line of horses, the heavy infantry is proceeding on a single like.

Splosh.

A single line?

Splosh.

Publius speeds up to the signifier, patting the horse's face - shush, shush - to have a talk with him. What is Varo thinking? They should advance slower, and with more coordination.

Splosh.

"Hail Caesar Augustus! Greetings, Signifier. What is with the thickness of our lines?"

[Lyrus]

Gnaeus turned to the horseman, whilst holding the standard aloft and above his head, swooping it across the air slightly like an oversized bird of prey. "The thickness of the forest splits our men up with mighty force, but with no heed paid by the commanders, there's little one can do." The Aquilifer replied sagely, with the gruff, yet refined tone of a soldier farmilar with his job. Raising one hand, he pointed at the head of the column, and in a voice that seemed to resonate with his resignation, he commented, "So we had to clump together the men the best we could and make them march together instead of spread all about the place - the end result is this long, winding line of infantrymen."

[Aiden]

Marcus was not sure what had urged him to pull away from the main line, but many factors made him ride along side the army. Acting as a rear guard, he was subject to the horrid conditions of a trail long abused and destroyed, any man who was foolish enough to ride through it would experience fatigue rapidly. Along the trail an occasional village buried deep in the forest could be spotted, nothing more than a second glance given to the small bundle of huts. He let his horse travel at a comfortable pace, understanding that the conditions and his weight did not make it easy on it. A slight pat on the horse's neck assured the loyal creature that it would be given a chance to rest soon.

[Desan]

His eyes look around nervously, his legs seeming to quiver at a constant rate. Three steps, quiver. Three more steps, quiver. Two steps, nothing. Three steps, quiver. Three steps....

Sighing, Gratus look around not seeing much besides his fellow soldiers in front and behind him. Muttering to himself to be strong he checked his sword, pulling the cold steel out halfway to check to see if it wasn't stuck in his scabbard. It wasn't stuck, yet the scabbard seemed to cling to the weapon as if lovers lips pushed against each other and one did not want to let go while the other had to withdraw. Growling, he slammed the sword back into the scabbard, peering around the green forest. The trees seeming to close in all around the legions, suffocating them as they traveled deeper and deeper into it.


Three steps, quiver. Three-- "Hail Caesar Augustus! Greetings, Signifier. What is with the thickness of our lines?" Gratus cocked his head to the side, seeing how had said that. His eyes focused on a horseman and the signifier as they began to engage in chat. Though they were too far away for him to hear much, it calmed him some what. He was sure they were discussing how the camps would be set up once they had exterminated the german threat, and how the money would be split amongst the infantrymen.

A smile curved the edge of his lips. Though he had only been in service for a month then thrown into the 18th legion Gratus, though scared out of his mind, was itching to get a first kill, and he knew with the thousands of soldiers in front and behind him, there wouldn't be enough germans to go around.

[TheLegionary]

Lucius continued to march together with the 17th Legion. He was tired and unhappy with the fact that he had not been sent to Greece or Egypt, calmer places. He wanted to know other lands, but not those endless forests in a freezing region, covered with swamps and plagued with bears.

Anyway, what helped Lucius to calm down in those last days was the fact he had met a lovely young girl in a nearby village when he was exploring the region with other scouters. It was fast, the way the girl looked at him and the way they tried to communicate was somehow different - he wanted to meet her again.

The young girl seemed so receptive to him, but they could not talk to much. There was something strange in the air.

[Federico]

I raise my eyes to the banner, its red darkened by rain. Instead of flapping to the wind, the banner falls limp, heavy, trapped by the rain. On our right, a small gully winds up, trickling water down to cross our path. Surely our scouts have inspected it. Thinking about it, I become aware that I have not seen a scout the whole day.

I address a comment to the bearer and to his small circle. "Who would relinquish Asia, or Africa, or Italy, to repair to Germany, a region hideous and rude, under a rigorous climate, dismal to behold or to manure unless the same were his native country?" I do not expect my comrades to answer; they nod gravely, sharing my same thoughts. No one would, no one. Then a new sound hit my ears - the flight of a javelin.

The javelin rebounds from the banner with a splat. The banner vibrates, showering us in water. I know now many of us without turning my head; I look up the gully, where shapes are starting to run, and I mount my horse at the same time, setting my small round shield between us and them, waiting for the shower of javelins that is bound to come. How many of them, I think waiting for the flight of the arrows, cursing our ineffective formation, a narrow line. Weak. Exposed.

[Aiden]

The eerily monotonous march seem to shift as commotion was heard up ahead, word of mouth spread out that the legions were under attack, but from where?! Hooking his heels into his loyal horse, he turned to meet up with his small unit and ask if they knew anything when they came on the receiving end of an attack.
"Do not chase into the forest!"
Marcus heard the order and stopped from pursing, the night was approaching rapidly and it would be best if they all gathered together and stopped. A centurion ordered for the men to report to the clearing up ahead, shadows were slipped between the trees, the legions were being stalked.

Attacks were being made along the entire long snake formation the legions were forced to travel in, hit and run tactics, scaring and whittling away the exhausted troops morale. As the sun went down, a feint fog began to settle in, the men would not have any chance to rest tonight. Crickets, birds and creatures of the forest masked the rustling of Germanic warrios approaching the weary Romans.

[Desan]

"Aye. He's a tall one. My boy. He's going to make me proud. Ever since his mother exposed him to the world, I knew he would be a good soldier for the glory of Rome." Said one roman soldier happily to the other beside him. They stood, somewhat awkwardly in a semi circle as their part of the legion line had held and were told they were given a brief respite. The man next to Gratus continued,  "I told him when I get back I'd bring back a sword so he'd begin to practice! He's so excited that his father is in the army, and he's already worn out his wooden toy sword. Only nine and I'm so pr--"

Red and a gurgled scream was all that came out next Blinking furiously Gratus tried to wipe his face full of the red thick liquid that seemed to spray into his face, only to feel the man stumble into him, his whole body pushing him backwards.

Pandemonium. That's all there was. He could hear random screams from ahead and behind as the air began to whistle as javelins whooshed past Gratus, some embedding into their chosen target: the soldiers. Spinning he turned away from the man who appeared to have an arrow stuck deep into the side of his neck. Losing his balance Gratus fell, one hand out and a shield raised up to break his fall as he splattered onto the wet, muddy ground.

With a grunt he landed, his armor clinking together as he slowly began to look up. There were shouts coming from all directions, rustling of leaves and cries of agony. Then, a brief silence. The attackers. Where were they? He couldn't see much. Slowly, shakily, he got up, his whole body trembling from the experience. He looked around, seeing the outline of the man who was just talking. A javelin had dove deep into his neck, his neck nearly split into two from the impact. "Form up! Continue to march! Shields at ready!" He heard up ahead. Nodding to himself Gratus took up his shield holding it protectively to the side of his body, covering as much of his face and arm as he could.

He tried not notice the very sudden warm liquid in his pants that began to stream down his thighs and legs..

[Federico]

Publius was chewing on a stripe of smoked meat when the horn was blown. Jumping on his horse and rushing to follow his formation leader. He laughed as one of his comrades was dismounted by a low branch. "Pay attention you imbecile!" someone shouted.

His small, round shield would not protect against a well launched javelin. Honorless beasts, they were, launching their volleys just to disappear again in the forest. They had order not to pursue; they were been told that the pursuing parties had failed to return. Publius doubted, knowing the valor of his comrades - of himself. If only he could find some of these germans at sword's length.

The group galloped back, only to come again to a stop. Many valorous Romans were on the ground, pierced by the horrid javelins or hit by slings. And no sign of the enemy. He understood that the night would pass in these futile rushes around the camp. Accursed, honorless beasts.

[Lyrus]

Gnaeus immediately backed away, the cowled animal-skin over his head dripping wet and heavy. Gritting his teeth at the sight of the attackers, he swung the pole heavily, with much gusto; the banner flapped limply several times, heavy as it was, and gave the men courage as they rallied. Orders were shouted from all over the place, but the Aquilifier's role was clear - stand his ground, defend the banner, rally the soldiers. With that in mind, Gnaeus prepared to fufill his obligations; reaching into his side, grasping hold of the horn that lay strapped to his belt, and holding it to his lips, he took a deep breath.

The sonorous boom of the war horn echoed across the valley, drowning out all sound for a moment. Gnaeus strapped the horn back to his belt as the men calmed at the sound of the war horn; they would attempt to hold formations now.

[Desan]

His head snapped up and peered over his shield at the sound of the horn. That must be the rally point, or so he was told. His eyes squinted in the darkness, fires blinking here and there before his eyes settled onto the wavering banner. "Head over there?" He asked a solider that ran by him. "Hold forma ---" his words were cut off as a javelin slipped right into his chest, throwing the soldier back and impaling him to the ground. Eyes widening, Gratus quickly made his way towards the banner, hearing more cries of agony swirl around him.

As he gets towards the banner he spots the man who was waving it and had presumably blew the horn. "Orders? What do we do?" He asked in a shaky voice, trying to adjust himself from the uncomfortableness in his pants and crotch area.

[Lyrus]

"Gather up, form defensive line!" Gnaeus barked as Gratus appeared, "We must wait for the Legate to give the orders!" He dragged the heavy banner along with him, swinging it forward so that the drenched banner was in visible sight of all Roman and German. "They are keeping their distance, this is a guerilla tactic! Testudo!" Gnaeus shouted, thrusting the flag up into the air as he said so and crouching down, moving into the middle of the formation that was forming up at his shout. Legionnaries begun to move into a tight square, holding their shields up and around their heads to mimic a turtle, and urging their fellows to form similar formations so as to prevent the javelins causing further damage.

[Desan]

Gratus nodded, moving to the back of the formation and turning around so he walked backwards, hoping those in front were holding their shields high enough. With a shaky step he began to move with those who gathered around the banner. With every step he tried hard not to stumble and fall over and destroy the formation. Who would've thought  training would ever be used like this.

Sweat dripping down his body under his armor they began to move forward. Soon a thunk was heard to his right. He could here the person who had been hit stumble back and grunt from the shock, but otherwise hold still. "How long do you think they'll assault us for?" He screamed above the noises as they continued to move back

[Lyrus]

"Not for too long." Was the curt reply of the Aquilifer, holding the banner tall and proud as the javelins sailed overhead. One of them punctured a hole in the banner, whilst the other two dented the frame, but otherwise the banner remained in the air. Hushed voices muttered to each other, and the shields rose higher and higher with more confidence as the javelins bounced off them. Once or twice, a man gave way, and was immediately replaced before the gap in the formation could be exploited. "Where is the Legate..." Gnaeus grunted, glancing about while he was confined in the tight safety of the Testudo.

[Aiden]

Just as fast as they had arrived they left, the lines and soldiers lay in ruins. Countless were dead or injured officers had fled towards the front of the line leaving many of the others mostly green soldiers to fend for themselves. With morale down, many troops looked around in confusion for something to do. Even one person who attempted to lead were ignored, Marcus did not like the way things were looking.

Of his unit of 32, only 5 remained, the rest lay dead or fled like cowards. While others settled down for the long night before them, he rode up the line to warn others to move in unison. Gather in their formation, back to back and avoid the temptation to sleep and rest. His words fell on deaf ears, moving up until he spotted the damaged banner of the 18th. From up top his horse, he called addressed the bearer.
"The 17th legion is in ruin, is your commanding officer within your rank or did he flee with the cowards of the 17th?"

[TheLegionary]

The Barbarian assault to the 17th came from both sides and was swift. Worse than that, it was almost simultaneous to the attack to the other legions. The legionnaires fought bravely but there was no way out - the way the columns were marching made it impossible to organize defenses properly. Moreover, communications were swiftly cut off by the attackers, making coordination even more difficult. Every small group, vastly outnumbered from every sides, was fighting its own private battle.

This was exactly what happened to the 17th. Broken into 10 or 15 smaller groups, all of them outnumbered by Barbarian forces, each group was fighting not for victory, but for their own survival. Desperately, to say the least.

Lucius was in the smallest of these groups. They tried to organize a testudo, but their efforts were in vain - the enemies were using horses and they broke twice the formation. It did not take more than a couple of hours for the panick to take place among the legionnaires.

Lucius regretted deeply having joined the army. He would be much better in Egypt or Greece, not in that bloddy forest. He had to find his way out of that confusion and to survive. After these thoughts, he stabbed a large, bearded Barbarian carrying a hammer in front of him. He was running short of time to find his way out as more and more Barbarians were arriving. All he wanted was to go back to the peaceful village he had visited some time ago.

[Lyrus]

Gnaeus stepped out of the tight, compact formation that was housed around him; his hands never left the banner, despite their now ragged and torn state. It was a symbol of pride, survival, and above all, it would be a sign of victory. "I can't say I have seen the Legate nor the Commandant, and I certainly don't know where they went." The Aquilifer replied, raising his head so he could address the mounted horseman properly. "If you ask me, stretching the lines out was a big mistake. Not sending the damned scouts out was a big mistake. And letting Varus command the troops was a big mistake." He caught himself mid-rant, and admitted ruefully, "Not that you're asking me."

He took a glance back at the ragged bunch of men taking turns to hold up to the Testudo while others sat down. If the Germanic Tribes attacked again, Gnaues and his cohort would at least be safe. "The 18th is a mess right now. But at least we've got survivors."

[Desan]

As fast as they had attacked, the barbarians had receded back into the forest. Blinking, Gratus peeked over his shield only to be exposed to such a horrific sight laid in front of him. Bodies. Everywhere. "What...What do we do?" He stammered out loud, his body beginning to quiver again as the adrenaline began to recede out of his excited muscles. Bodies, torn up everywhere. Dead men laying upon each other, some impaled by the same spear. Blood, guts, the groans and screams of pure agony filled the air as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.

"I..I need to get back into line..where..where's the formation? Where is our Legate?" He mumbled, his pupils dilated, his arms and hands quivering as he tried his hardest not to vomit. He turned his head to Gnaeus, feeling woozy already and unable to process what really had happened to the legions who were marching through the forest.

[Lyrus]

"Stay in the Testudo, boy." The Aquilifer replied shortly, turning and stabbing the pole into the ground firmly so the banner flapped limply where all could see it. "Can't find the Legate, and certainly don't know what to do with no orders." He blinked at the questions, then turned to see Lucius in and the rest of some of the routing 17th running off in a panic. He heaved a great sigh; this was something of a disaster as it were. "There is no line." He said flatly to the stunned Legionary.

[TheLegionary]

Aquillifer's order came amid a confusion. Lucius decided to stay in the testudo for some more time, but many were fighting alone. Another Barbarian feel in front of them. Definitively, even in a surprise strike, the Barbarians were very inefficient. However, their massive numbers were cracking down the column´s defenses... would they resist for long?

He looked behind and saw a Barbarian horse was making victims behind him. What should he do?

[Lyrus]

The Aquilifier lost his patience; in all his years of warfare, he knew the factors of fear and confusion were the worst; they affected morale, which was vital to the army. Fed up, he skulked towards the fleeing men, leaving his precious banner behind for now, guarded by the Testudo, pushed past some of the 17th, and grabbed hold of a hold of several javelins left on the ground. Gnaeus, an experienced Veteran, knew how to cure battlefield demoralisation. Pulling back the javelin, he hurled it towards the Germanic Pseudo Alae galloping behind Lucius, the shaft struck straight and true. It impaled the horseman, the momentum sending the rider flying off his poorbred steed; in slow-motion, a mist of red engulfed the horrified Barbarian as he crashed to the ground a moment afterwards, and was crushed by the raging hooves of his mount.
"There will be no cowards!" Gnaeus roared, "There will be no runners!" Several of the men stopped in their tracks. "There will be no mercy!" He walked up to the fallen, mangled Rider, and slammed his boot into his face, hearing the satisfying crack of a breaking nose. "There, will, be, an, army!" He walked back to his banner, holding up the Eagle standard aloft. "We are the Legions of Augustus, Emperor of Rome!"
Despite the chaos raging all around him, Gnaeus knew if he could rally the men for now, he could hold out till the Germans tired, and then he could wipe them out. "To me!" He barked, causing the stunned men to scramble towards him. Gnaeus turned to Lucius, and with a grunt, handed him the javelins. "Watch my back, boy."

Little did the charismatic Veteran knew that one of their own had already betrayed them, and that in the pandemonium they were headed right into a trap ...

[TheLegionary]

Lucius listened to the order of Gnaes. He was delirating. He was completely insane, out of mind. Attacking when it was time to regroup to streamline the testudo?

Lucius looked around to see if anyone was following the superior. "Sir, I dont think it is wise to move ahead. Stay in the formation!", he shouted authoritatively to his superior as if he had forgot he was not an official. "Otherwise we will lose more ground".

[Lyrus]

Gnaues turned on Lucius coldly. "If we do not rally the rest of the men, and maintain a tight formation bigger than what we have now, we are dead!" He barked the last word at Lucius so it rang in his air. "We are dead! We are all, dead!" He wheeled around and picked up a fallen sword from a dead Legionary, plodding off, soiling his sandals with mud as he walked past the corpses on the ground and turned to Marcus. "What now?" He asked, bemused at their own situation.

[TheLegionary]

Lucius smiled and decided to complain with Gnaeus order. They would be killed anyway, no matter how the death would happen.

[Aiden]

"I do not plan to flee, but like hell I will follow this march to my death."
Marcus unmounted his faithful horse and moved over to give his snout a final rub. He was attacked to his steed, raised it himself before he joined the military. The horse snorted in exhaustion, he hoped his animal could feel what he could not say. The savages were targeting the horses then the riders, that last thing he wanted to see was his own horse die before him.
"Get out of here!"
He moved to the side and gave his flank slap, the horse jolted off into the forest at a speed that surprised even him.

"I saw a small village...back during our march, we need shelter and regroup! Anyone willing to come with me is welcome, there will be no heroes in this...only corpses...those who wish to come follow me."
He was not sure if people had heard him among the commotion, but he took what little supplies he could carry without burdening himself and made his way into the forest with the barbarians that had slaughtered so many of his fellow Romans.

[Desan]

Nodding silently he listened to Lyrus, watching the heated argument between Gnaues and Lucius unfold. "Guys we need..." He sighs, letting the men duke it. Once he thought it was safe enough he moved with Gnaeus and listened in on Marcus.

"Is that such a wise decision? Going into the woods where the barbarians are hiding in? We will be easily overwhelemed. Strength in numbers. Why don't we stick with our legions??" He cried out.

[Lyrus]

Gnaeus snorted derisively, and frowned at Marcus's suggestion. "Which brings me back to my original plan; we must gather the men before we regroup, we cannot leave them to their deaths!" His eyes narrowed, and his strong soldier's spirit flashed before his eyes. "No one gets left behind in my book, sir."

[Desan]

Clearly he was indecisive, to stay with the  Aquilifier, or take his chance to Decurion. "Doesn't it mean desertion which means penalty of death should we be caught leaving Marcus? Is there no other way?" He looked at Gnaeus and gave a small nod. "We shouldn't abandon our fellow Romans, but...another attack like this...We can't even fight back. Our legions will be obliterated in no time.."

With that said his body began to quiver. He didn't want to die. Each choice seemed to end up with death. Stay here and get picked off, or head into the woods and get ambushed...

[TheLegionary]

Flavius smiled somehow cinically. Everything was over, couldnt those two stupid see, he thought. Anyway, it was better to stay together with someone else rather than alone.

[Desan]

Looking around curiously he stood still, waiting for the others to make a move before him. However, it seemed like everyone was split on their decision, or so it seemed. He didn't want to be implicated should he be caught trying to "escape" from his legion. Then again, perhaps he could make up some bold story on how he was going to search for the barbarians who wrecked his fellow men. It didn't seem like anyone would go for it yet as he turned his head and watched Marcus weave in and out between the chaos Gratus gathered his wits and adjusted his soaked pants. "I'm going with Marcus. I don't think we have a chance here...." He said in a near whisper before turning around and hurrying after him.

[Aiden]

Deep within the forest he ran, on his guard away from the sound of death. Desertion, he knew his fate was sealed if he returned to Rome but he refused to die in the forest of Germania. He missed the fields of his home, the horse he had raised as a foal and later joined the Equis who now ran in a different direction in the hopes that he would escape a gruesome death. When the forest went silent and the sounds of agony and war could no longer be heard, he stopped and attempted to gather his bearings.

Looking back he saw if anyone had followed after him, kneeling to the ground and searching for signs of travel, paths, trails anything that would lead him to a village, a river anything for him to use to navigate out of the endless sea of thick forest. 

[Lyrus]

Gnaeus spat on the ground and muttered something that sounded like 'cowards' under his breath, then turned to a handful of frightened men that had allowed him for two reasons - his individualistic fighting prowess, and the fact he held the banner. Reaching out, the Aquilifer grasped the sturdy shaft of the pole stuck in the ground, and hefted it up. "Regroup, on me! We will find our comrades first, then retreat and set up camp before awaiting orders!"

He pulled out his gladius, holding it in the air with the banner. Dozens of war cries shot into the air at the sight as Gnaeus braced himself. "And remember this, above all!" He roared, "Our Roman Gods are watching! Make sure, that they are not ashamed!" Charging forward with the banner held high, the men he had with him charged, swords raised, spears lifted. Javelins shot into them one by one as they started their mad, cumberous run.

[Federico]

Publius was galloping in the mud, returning to the line with a small group of equites. They tried to protect the line for the beasts' attacks. He had little doubt that they were failing, since he had seen too many comrades falling. The horses were the favoured targets. Honorless beasts, these Germans.

He glanced at the testudo - someone was organizing a counteroffensive! Excusing himself with the group leader, he rode quickly to them, meeting them in a moment of relative quiet. Then he heard a soldier yelling "Why don't we stick with our legions??"

They were recalled to formation. Publius decided to stay and see what the testudo was going to do. He heard the roar of the Aquilifer, dispelling his doubts. "We will find our comrades first." He liked the sound of this. He dismounted remaining nearby, keeping the testudo between him and the attacking Germans, patting his horse's neck, ready to make a difficult decision.

[Lyrus]

A javelin drove the fellow Legionnaire charging beside him to the ground.

Gnaeus ran on, holding the eagle standard aloft, splattered with rain, heavy, and dripping wet, yet proud and glorious as it was stained with the blood of ally and enemy alike. "Let Mars take pride, and give us his blessings!" The Aquilifer screamed, men charging all around him as they smashed into the Germans at last, turning into a whirlwind of blades, flesh, and blood. The Germans pulled back momentarily, allowing Gnaeus and his followers to reunite with the stragglers that had been cut off. Banding together once more, they held their blades out, but realised it was a trap too late.

The Germans, having waited for them to regroup together, formed a massive killing circle and started to rain the javelins down upon them again with greater gusto and success. Blood flew everywhere, and a man was impaled by a javelin, took another man with him, before they both collapsed to the ground. Several were brave enough to try and charge, but they too were cut down by Germans when they came too close. Finally, wavering before the Germanic tribes' brutal attacks, several broke and ran and were cut down. They could neither fight, nor run.

Caught in a stalemate, Gnaeus did the only thing he could do to save the lives of his men - he threw his life's pride and joy and achievements, to the Germans. The eagle standard soared over the air and crashed into the ground, upright. Several Germans screamed and made for the standard, falling for the bait; the Legionnaires surged forward and yelled, cutting through the Germans, Gnaeus charged forward, ducked under a wildly swung axe, and plunged his blade into the tribesman responsible. Pulling his bloodstained sword out, showering his face with minced innards and blood, he screamed savagely, hearing the cries of the German Warband all around him.

He cut down a Tribesman making for the flag, but was buffeted to the side by another, who grabbed hold of it and roared, triumphant. Then that one was promptly cut down savagely by Legionnaires who reached him, who in turn were overrun by more Germans, causing the standard to fall to the ground, unprotected and untaken. Gnaeus bashed aside the Germans who were nearest to him, then reached for the flag - So close!

Then a blunt mace slammed into the back of his head, and black dots appeared all over his vision. His eyes crossed, and the Aquilifer crashed to the ground, unconscious, as the Romans fought a losing battle around him.

[Anthea]

Brunhild lifted up her head and smiled at the sky, eyes half closed. She was so glad to have run away from the village without anyone noticed.
She opened her arms and took a deep breath, filling her lungs with delight. She thought of her sister who was probably wondering about where her sister could be instead of helping her. No doubts she would tell her off when coming home but she pushed the idea aside for nothing was more important than this moment of freedom, far away from them all, at last!
She didn't hated them, not at all, she was very proud to be a Cherusci but her pride had began to turn cold since she had been told about a possible engagement with Alaric.
Alaric, his name only could make her feel sick and the idea of becoming his wife was much more than she could bear. How happy she had been when Arminius came to the village wanting the men to join him to fight against the Romans!
She looked around her and decided to follow the path leading to the forest, “Never walk in the woods alone, little Brunhild”. She smiled remembering the advice given more than once by the old Faileuba. She restrained a laugh thinking of her wrinkled face and hairy chin.
Where was the danger? She was pretty sure Romans were not as dangerous as they said in the village.
She tightened her cloak around her and walked in the ferns. It was so quiet, how could it be dangerous for a sixteen years old girl to be there?
She looked around her, noticing the forest was much thicker. She had probably been too far but she didn’t cared. No one would find her which was a very good thing.
Her eyes got attracted by a silhouette kneeled down. She frowned, thinking she would have to explain why she was there at this time.
Her heart began to beat faster as the silhouette moved. It wasn't someone from the village at all; she stepped further and felt her blood running cold. Gods, it was a Roman soldier!
She tried to hide behind a tree but she knew it was too late for the Roman had certainly already seen her. She rested her head against the thick trunk, closing her eyes and waited, her heart beating in her throat now. Maybe he hadn't seen her after all, maybe…

[The Dark Raven]

Basina knelt by the hearth, scraping coals over a clay pot that her family's evening meal cooked in.  Her young son sat on the floor near the door, amusing himself and jabbering away nonsense.  The boy's father, Eadric, had gone with a party to defend their home only the day before.  He had not returned as yet...but none of the others had either.  As young as their child was, she worried, though she knew there were many old women in the village that could help her if he was gone for too long.  She felt...better with him at her side.

At the moment, her bigger worry was not her husband out doing his duty for the village....it was the whereabouts of her younger sister.  Brunhild had always seemed more confined being in a safe village, she wanted the freedom of a life....that Basina could not understand.  Home was warm, safe...the wilds were dangerous.

And yet again, she was gone...  She only hoped the girl would be home by sundown.

[Aiden]

Marcus was so focused on his task he missed the unknown visitor, but he heard the snapping of twigs under foot. He drew his sword, the sound echoing in the silent forest as he yelled out in Latin.
"Come and face me!"

If he was about to die he wanted to see his attacker face to face, he refused to die at the hands of a attack from the shadows, they way countless of Roman soldiers had died days before. Hearing nothing but his own words, he moved cautiously around, looking for the person or persons who made the sound. Catching a shadow behind a tree, he circles around it widely, wanting to catch a gull glimpse of it before striking. His sword lowered as he saw a young girl, with her eyes closed and her head resting on the trunk in a attempt to hide herself. Marcus knew hardly anything, only a few words the Germanic warriors grunted at each other in combat, in his thick accent he tried to crudely make his point.
"Go away..."
He had a heavy conscience already, the last thing he needed was to have the blood of a girl on his hands, even if it was one of their kind. Keeping his eyes on her, he made sure that this was not a trap, watching around him nervously.

[Anthea]

Brunhild closed her eyes stronger as she heard him shout something she thought to be in Latin. She pictured Basina's face and would have given anything to be close to her now. She heard his steps getting closer despite the pounding of her heart. “I’m going to die” she thought without opening her eyes.
Surprisingly, nothing happened.
She heard him tell something but couldn’t understand for it wasn’t the dialect they were using at the village. She decided it was time to open her eyes; after all, if she had to die, she’d rather know by whose hand it would be. She slowly turned and looked up at him.
Blue eyes widened in surprise looking at the man covered with mud and blood. Was it a man really or was it a devil sent to punish her? She decided not wanting to know. She turned back and tried to rush away but her feet tangled in her cloak and she fallen heavily face to the ground with a scream of surprise.

[country]

Eadric roared his elation to the skies.  Dead Romans littered the woods.  Booty lay everywhere.  His sword dripped with blood, his shoulders ached from the repeated thrusts as he chopped the hated invader's limbs from their bodies, hacked into them, opened them and spilled their entrails onto the forest floor.  Fresh blood and pieces of flesh dotted his already encrusted leather wrap.

Chest heaving, eyes glowing, arms trembling from the effort of this afternoon and evening, he lowered the short sword that had been liberated from a dead Roman and thrust it into his girdle.  He must make an offering to his God.  With his guidance, the javelins had flown true, horses had been taken down and then the men.  The Roman Eagles now lay on the ground, soon to be erected in the village. 

Gathering pieces of the fallen Romans, Eadric began his prayers of thanks.  Soon enough to the gathering of the booty.  The village would rejoice with this wealth.  Everyone would enhance their status.  The village would host a feast of celebration while arrangements were made for those whose men who had fallen.   

Ah, Alaric was nearby, he too covered in gore.  Good, he was indeed a good choice for Brunhild.  Together they would finish the prayers and then begin to sweep the forest for those cowardly roman deserters who would have dropped their weapons.  Easy prey in this land that he and Alaric knew so well.

[Desan]

"Marcus....Marcus!!" Gratus whispered as he slowed his progression from a run to a tiny creep as he moved deeper into the forest. He had no clue where the hell he was and unfortunately Marcus had escaped into the forest before Gratus had made a decision to follow. Alone, cold, and in shock, Gratus looked around for any form of life, friend or even foe. The former rather than the latter, of course. Anxious and scared to the bone, he nervously began to creep deeper and deeper into the wild forest. The random noises of the birds squawking in the trees startled him from time to time, causing Gratus to whip out his sword and hold it out with a shaky hand. He was not cut out for this and he prayed to the Gods every inch he stepped that if he got out here alive, he'd conform and become a priest.

"Marcus!" He hissed again, trying to keep his voice low should the barbarians be close but loud enough to call upon his comrade if he was even around. "Give me strength.." He muttered to himself as he began to push away the tall leaves and vines that tried to impeded his way. He slowly inched his way further into the forest, sweat dripping from under his helm and stinging his eyes. As he reached a hand up to wipe them his foot caught onto a tree-root which caused him to topple over into the wet ground. He froze where he laid, shutting his eyes and muttering a slew of curses under his breath as he listened for any foreign noises. His grip on the hilt of his sword was so tight his knuckles were white. Slowly, carefully, he lifted himself up onto his hands and knees. Then soon his knees then, with great caution, to a crouch before Gratus continued to scoot further into the unknown.

[Banderas]

"Diana!  No!"

And Decius Gallus awoke.  All was black.  The stench of coagulated blood assailed his
senses.

He still had the use of his arms.  With a push, he slid the corpse which had lain crosswise
over his upper torso and head away.  A cool rain pattered down on his face, and he opened
his eyes.  A gray light shone in.

Decius looked left and right.  He was in a small glade surrounded by ancient trees.  The
field was littered with corpses of both men and horses.  Pools of blood were punctuated by
raindrops.

Decius remembered now.  He was not in Etruria, or Elysium, his last memory before waking.  He was in
Germania.

His platoon of Equites had been given the panicked order to retreat, and that idiot of a
Centurion, Crassus, had led them through here.  He remembered a javelin impaling Octavius,
and then howls emerging from the forest all around them. A barbarian had emerged from the
treeline, seemingly out of nowhere. The horses were panicking.

Decius' hand went to his belt.  His Gladius was still in it's scabbard.  His chain armor
was caked in thick black and red mud.  He was covered in blood.  But he yet lived. 

The barbarians hadn't had time to loot the fallen yet.  He decided he must move now, before
they returned to practice their barbaric, pagan rituals on the dead.  No heathen would
drink from a cup fashioned from Decius' skull!

As he tried to stand, sharp pains ran everywhere through his body.  He dropped back down
and vomited twice.  The nausea faded and he looked for the source of the pains.  Ah, yes. 
He had been pierced twice: along his outer left thigh and along his outer right ribcage.

Serious wounds, but he had experienced far worse.  And these were starting to scab over.

Decius attempted to rise again, this time successfully.  He limped over to where a pilum
was stuck in the ground and retrieved it.

Then he heard What sounded like the clash of metal upon metal and a bellowing yell.  It was
indeed far away, and he wasn't sure of the exact distance.  The battle lay that way.

He thought of Calista, whom he had not seen in three years.  He resolved he would see her
again.  He would rejoin whatever was left of his army, recross the Rhine, and return to
Italia, Etruria, and Calista.

He limped out of the circle of gray light and into the blackness of the endless forest.

[country]

As Eadric concluded his prayers of thanks to Tiw, the god of war, he looked over to Alaric.  Around them the cries and moans of the wounded drown out the night sounds, occasional screams of pain erupt then end abruptly.   It is evident that other warriors are searching the woods and eliminating the wounded.

It is time for the two of them to complete the actions undertaken that day.  There is much to be done, with many urgent tasks that need addressing.  First, the enemy must be destroyed while they are routing and in disarray.  Second, the Roman’s food supply must be located and secured.  Our own injured warriors would need to be found and transported to the women so they could begin the healing rituals. Eventually, the dead would have to be collected and disposed before the stench became unendurable and the area overrun with scavengers.   It is decided that Alaric will seek out Arminius to assist in the extermination of these hated Romans.  I will locate and preserve the valuable food stores.  The village is in desperate need of these supplies.

As Alaric drifted into the darkness of the Forest I thought that first I would seek out the body of the Roman standard bearer; he who had been wearing an animal skin.  I had seen him in the battle, fighting and defending their standard – he had been a worthy foe and the warrior who had felled him deserved praise and recognition.  I must look upon this fallen enemy warrior so that I can describe him when I return to the village.  I will tell the story of this battle, and of how bravely the Roman had fought.  This story could become part of our glorious history and would be told to the young and visitors in the coming seasons.

As I proceeded to the area where I knew he had been felled I reflected on the wisdom of the tribe when we had selected Arminius as our battle leader.  He had proposed that we change our formation from the arrow to one that more resembled a bull.  Maintaining the arrow at the centre, and creating flanking groups of warriors to the sides to close in and surround the Romans when they were engaged with the point of the arrow.  How he had positioned us so that we were hidden until it was too late for the Romans to escape.  His was the order decreeing total silence and we had endured that motionless wait as the mosquitoes had feasted on any exposed flesh.

Again my thoughts drift to the standard bearer – wondering what animal it was whose skin he had been wearing.  It was a soft earth colour, long hair streaming from behind its head, with huge fangs in its mouth and long claws tipping the feet.  Nothing like it had been seen in these parts. 

Thinking of the animals in these parts, I realized that soon the village would have to move; the deer and boar were seldom encountered.  As well, the previous season’s crops had been poor, and little grain had been collected at the harvest.  Many of the heads had been poor, or filled with small grains, while a storm had smashed much of even that poor offering into the ground just before the festival of the harvest.  During the winter, many of the cattle had been lost, and there were few seeds available to plant for the new season.   At the meeting with Arminius, there had been one warrior who spoke of country in the direction from whence the Roman had come.  He spoke of a valley where the land was fertile and where the woods were full of game.  The topic of relocating the village in that direction would need to be raised with the village elders.

But why have I not found the standard bearer by now.  I could not have missed him.  But, what is that?  Someone behind me ….

[Lyrus]

The javelin flashed through the air, spear-first, gleaming wickedly. It sunk into the ground beside Eadric with a soft 'thump'. The next thing he knew, the sound of footsteps charging down towards him. Gladius shining, with the blade stained with blood, mud, and grit, Gnaeus roared and threw himself upon Eadric, bursting out of the cover of trees he was hidden in.

[Aiden]

How simple it would have been to just take out his pain and fear on the helpless girl, save himself the torment of not knowing what would happen if he let her escape.
Run away girl! Get our of hear!
Marcus wished she could hear his thoughts, relieved when she began to flee only to fall face first into the ground! Between her desperate attempts to escape and his own thundering heart he heard his name in the distance, it seemed someone had followed him. He took a moment to calm himself, suppress the panic he had felt since he fled into the forest.

Leaning forward he helped the girl to her feet, holding her hand in place firmly as he waited for the caller to appear. Even if it was a coward's resort, he wanted to see his home one last time. The blade made it's way to its sheath, pulling her towards him as he pointed in the direction she was coming. He hoped the signs were clear, wanting her to take him to her village or home. Eyes looked and saw another Roman approach, it appeared more had survived after all.

[Banderas]

For hours he trudged through the dark, wet, trackless forest.  He followed the sounds of battle,
but when he arrived, it had always moved on to another point, leaving behind Roman corpses.

He had the good fortune to be able to slay one of these heathen Cheruscii.  The savage was
complacent, looting a Roman corpse for trophies.  He never heard Decius approach from behind,
over the rainsoaked earth.  Decius hacked the savage's head off and impaled it upon the dead Roman's spear as a display.  Then he moved on.

The battle had been lost, of that there was no doubt.  That left him with two options: To
somehow find his way south and west out of this forest, towards the Imperial frontier, or die with honor in this godforsaken land.

The heroic, honorable death was out of the question.  What would be the point of dying honorably
in this hellhole if nobody back home knew about it?  He would be just another Legionary that
didn't come home.  "Decius?  He went north to campaign with Varius army and never came back.  I
heard it was a disaster."  And Calista would marry that fool Catullus.

No: Decius would not become just another missing war dead.  He would return to Veii, honor be
damned.

He spied two others: A man, undoubtedly a Roman officer by his filthy finery, and a young woman.
Cheruscii, perhaps?  She definitely wasn't Roman.  But then she was still alive.  This bore
further investigation.

Decius limped towards Marcus, stood at attention, and saluted this clearly superior officer. 
"Hail Gaius Augustus.  Sir, I am Decius Gallus, Evocati Equites, from what used to be the 19th Legion.  My cohort was ambushed last evening and routed.  You're the first live Roman I've seen this day."

He pointed the tip of his gladius at the woman. "This one: She is a Camp follower?"

[Anthea]

Brunhild looked up sheepishly and accepted the hand he was holding her out.
She smiled faintly in hope he would let her go but his hand was still holding hers firmly and she understood he was waiting on something or worse on someone and that she might have lost her last chance to run away.
She looked around her like a trapped animal, trying to find a way to escape.
She saw him putting his sword in its baldric but didn’t felt any relief; her heart was beating in her throat again as he pulled her to him. She turned her head towards the place he was pointing to then looked back at him with panicked eyes. What was he trying to show her? Was he trying to communicate with her or was it…she turned her head again, hearing twigs snapping under someone’s feet. She prayed with all her heart for it could be made from Aedric’s steps and almost screamed discovering another Roman soldier coming out from the bushes.
She pulled herself back in a frantic attempt to run away but the Roman was still holding her too firmly. Her eyes focused on the short sword the other man was holding. His face was terrifying and everything in his behaviour told her he wouldn’t be as kind as his friend, especially the suspicious way he had to look at her while he was talking and pointing his sword at her.
All she had to do now was to pray her Gods for her death could be fast and painless.

[Desan]

There was someone there. He could hear the footsteps heading his way. Scared to call out, for it could've been a barbarian, Gratus crouched down and braced himself, sword at hand. Quivering he moved to the side a bit, his body becoming one with the forest as weeds, hanging branches and thick leaves that helped cover his small body. He waited, hearing the thick footsteps approach. Surely it wasn't a roman, he would've heard armor clinking together. Maybe it was Marcus who may have shed off his armor, but Gratus did not want to give up his position, not until he found out who the person was.

His breath caught into his throat as a huge muscular frame of a barbarian stepped into view. This man must be nearly as tall as a horse..as strong as an ox! Gratus thought to himself as his body began to shake. The Barbarian was strolling along, obviously unaware of the roman hiding amongst the wildlife. Gratus gripped his sword nervously. Kill? Or Wait till he left? Suddenly he was forced with a decision as the barbarian stopped and stood there, as if trying to sniff something out. Gods guide me. He whispered to himself before he gathered his wits and turned the sword around in his hand, so the sword was facing down in a stabbing position. Now or never... With a bloody shriek Gratus pounced on top of the man, his knees locking against the mans hips as he raised the hilt high above his head and grasped it with both hands. Adrenaline had taken over his actions now as his scream never faltered even after he drove the sword home into the back of the barbarians neck.

Suddenly both were falling face first onto the ground, Gratus's head striking part of a nearby tree before things went black for him.

[Aiden]

The tension broke for a moment as he hailed the call of an approaching ally, the formality between ranks unneeded as they were part of a much small group of survivors. His hand held the young girl's tightly as she attempted to escape, issuing with his other hand to sheath his sword.
"Please brother...I tire of watching weapons brandished against me."
He did best to make light of their dire situation, a hidden strength that displeased certain types.

"The girl, I found her walking through the forest...no supplies no evidence of following an army."
His blood streaked face looked her over, hazel eyes muddied with exhaustion and sorrow did their best to conceal his own fear and lack of concentration.
"I am Marcus of the former 17th..."
Purposely he did not feel to reveal his rank as the banner he fought to protect lay trampled back in the forest.
"I can not communicate with her, but she left a trail for me to follow...you can join me and possibly walk into a trap or starve in these woods as the rest of those filthy barbarians hunt us down...one thing for certain...last time we split up...3 legions died..."
Marcus cynicism was boring its head, his eyes looked down on the forest path below, tugging at the girl as he picked out her small tracks in the soggy earth.

[Banderas]

Decius thought Marcus mad to place his trust in this heathen witch.  Decius had several times witnessed ramifications of employing Cheruscii scouts and guides.  Indeed, it was likely this woman was leading them to an ambush.

Better to die with another Roman fighting at your side than die alone. 
"Bah.  At this point, I care neither for death or life.  I'll follow."

Decius uncorked a flask of water and took a deep gulp, then passed it to Marcus.

He watched fear grow in the eyes of the female savage.  She most likely thought he and Marcus were discussing cutting her heart out, roasting it on a spit, and drinking a toast with her blood.  These Germans were the epitome of ignorance.

He would throw her a surprise.

He cast a stern gaze at the woman, and addressed her in her native Cheruscii: "If you lead us to ambush, black witch, my first act will be to impale you against a tree." For effect, Decius motioned his hand towards his javelin. 

He continued, "I fear not death, but choose life.  If I and the Officer die, know that you will die first.  Do you understand me?"

[TheLegionary]

Lucius saw Gnaeus throwing the standard and using it to kill an enemy. Thank Mars. At least that stupid was doing something besides holding a symbol which would mean nothing  were all the legionnaires dead. After seeing that, the young legionnaire stabbed one Barbarian. The tortuga was gone.

When Lucius turned to his back, he was surprised: Where have all of them gone? The thick fog was making it impossible to see more than 3 metres. Maybe this could help him to save his own life.

[Anthea]

Brunhild gazed from one to the other for she couldn't understand a single word they were saying but the gaze the first one sent her made her feel compassion for he seemed to be exhausted and somewhat desperate. Could he be as scared as she was?
In revenge, she clearly understood that the newcomer wasn’t a kind one and she looked at him with eyes she wanted full of hate.
For the first time she regretted Alaric not to be around. No doubts he would have get rid of him within a heartbeat. She really didn’t like the way he had to look at her.
Her eyes widened when she heard this horrible man talking to her in her own language and jumped back screaming lightly, trying to hide behind the Roman who was holding her hand, blue eyes begging for his protection while the other was threatening her.
Ambush? Gods she would have give anything to lead him to ambush! Alas, there was not and something was telling her it wasn’t the right time to tell him she was as lost as them.  She nodded silently.

[Banderas]

The heathen witch nodded in assent.  She understood Decius warning.  He added as an afterthought, "No treachery from you, and you may go your merry way when the Centurion and I are far and gone from here."  How Decius loathed slaying women, even heathen women.  It was below his station.  He hoped this witch would lead them in the right direction, for all directions looked alike in this thick forest.  If she did, he would happily let her go.  If she did not.... 

What Decius really wanted right now was a hot bath.  He hadn't cleaned himself in almost a week and must have smelled ungodly to these two.  Ah, such were the ways of the Roman Army.  He received the flask back from Marcus, swirled a gulp of water in his mouth, and spat it out.  He smiled and winked at the witch, then faced Marcus.

"Sir, the witch says she will lead us to safety."

[Aiden]

"She is as lost as we are...regain your senses and you will realize that..."
Marcus was talking a moment to calm himself also, despair and fear was what killed soldiers, it was what caused the death of his brothers at the hand of the people the young girl was related to.
"We will follow the trail she left us, but we must make haste for I refuse to spend another night in this forsaken forest with those dogs nipping at out heels...the girl will make for good for trade if we are in need of it."

Snapping into action, he kept his focus on the ground and followed the clues the young girl had left behind through the forest. Over turned twigs, foot prints and any threads that came from her clothing were used as he followed they path she came from. What awaited him was unknown, a village?City a hobble in the woods, he prayed to the gods that it was not the armies that had killed his brothers. His concentration was following the trail he looked back at Decious for a moment.
"Stay on your guard, we are still in the enemies domain..."

[The Dark Raven]

Where was that girl?  Flower picking and traipsing around the wood, playing?  She should know better at her age...there were responsibilities...  Not to mention others to be tended to, not just dreams.  Soon enough she'd find out what it was like to be grown and taking care of her own family.

Brushing her hands on her skirts, she checked on her son, who had fallen asleep at the edge of the pallet she used for a bed.  Lifting him gingerly, she laid the child on the pallet and spared him a gentle look before heading out the door, purpose in her step.  She'd find that girl if it were the death of her...

Slowly, she set out into the forest fringed about her hut, eyes sharp for anything that might lead her toward her sister.  As the canopy grew darker, she slowed, coming upon the two bodies...one bloodied, one not.  Dropping to a crouch, she looked around her as she touched first one body, and then the other.   The bloodied one was cooling...dead.  The other was still warm...alive.  The dead one was dressed like her tribe, and she felt her stomach sink when she saw the man in the dimming light.  It...looked like Eadric.  Setting her jaw, she chewed on the inside of her cheek as she looked over both men's effects, for something useful...something the dead would no longer need...but be useful to those left behind.  Unfortunately, there usually wasn't much. 

"Goodbye, my love..." she murmured softly, hardly above a whisper.

[Anthea]

The young girl looked at the roman smiling at her and pressed herself some more against the other one. That man was really disgusting. How could he smile at her as he had just told her he wanted to pin her up on a tree?
She decided she would hate him forever.
She noticed her favourite soldier was focusing on the ferns. What was he doing? Had he lost something?
Her heart suddenly stopped as she realised he was looking to find where she was coming from. The idea comforted her in a way because it meant he would certainly help her to return home but in the meantime, it also meant he would be able to go to the village too. No doubts the other one would follow them and Gods knows what horrible things he would be able to do there.
She decided to push this unpleasant idea aside for the moment. Most important was to leave the forest. She would have plenty of time to think about a way to run away from them later.

[Banderas]

Decius allowed the the Officer Marcus and the heathen to lead the way.  Decius surely had no clue which direction they were heading, but there was no alternative.  The look the heathen had given him warmed him inside.  Oh yes: She hated him.  Good.  These savages had always astonished Decius.  They had no appreciation for Roman civilization.  Instead, they chose to spurn Rome's great gifts so generously offered, and remain wallowing in pits of the lowest depths of barbarity.  To be sure, many of these savages had accepted and co-opted the ways Roman life, some of them even moving into Roman frontier towns.  Decius himself had served in a unit of Cheruscii auxilia as a noncommisioned officer during his previous assignment, learning the basics of their harsh language, and learning how they fought.  But most of these germanics clung to the old ways of drinking blood and howling at animal totems.  He guessed it would always be this way.  So sad.  But there was something romantic about it that he couldn't shake.

He decided to drop back a distance, no more than twenty feet or so, from the two and remove himself from what was now obviously turning into some sort of trail or track.  Instead, he walked parallel to the trail and avoided stepping on branches and twigs.  He made sure he kept Marcus in sight at all times, though.  It would have been unwise for them to be bunched together in a group should they enter an ambush.  He became their shadow.

He experienced a slight rush in pain every so often as he walked, due to the wounds he had received the previous night, but shouldered  on nevertheless.  He frequently glanced over his shoulder or reversed himself to see if they were followed.  Nothing so far, but it was only a matter of time before before he knew he must once again use his sword and javelin.

[Aiden]

As the sun began to set the forest itself became darker, Marcus no longer knew how many hours they had spent trying to make sense of the familiar trunks and occasional clues strewn about. Every muscle in his body was exhausted, his grasp on the girl's wrist has lessened when he realized she was allowing herself to be led away. Night came once more, his eyes looking up from the trees, cursing the gods for blanketing the world in the shroud of impending darkness. How many people had died last night? Personally he was hungry, his thirst rising after they had finished the leather sacks of stale tasting water.

Night came, the hints and clues the young girl had left behind gone in the dark. In the distance ahead a few flickering lights danced wildly, fire! Marcus looked at the girl, his hand clutching her wrist tighter as he signaled to Decius to be on guard. Approaching the lights, the only guide in the endless sea of trunks foliage. Little did Marcus know, they had found Brunhild's village, what awaited for them there was unknown.

[Desan]

His eyes cracked opened. inches away from him was the massive frame of the man he just killed. He laid there in shocked, and it felt like his whole body was made out of stone.

A rustle somewhere.

Gratus tried to roll his eyes in the direction of the noise. Act like I'm dead? Close my eyes? He thought to himself as the noise approached the two bodies. His eyes stared ahead, unblinking for the time being. It was definitely a person, and he could see a slender hand and arm move into his line of site. It was a girl. Softly, she whispered something before she began to move around the dead barbarian and prod the body. He was definitely dead. Gratus blinked quickly, hoping the girl did not see it nor the small curve on the edge of his lips. His first kill! But what now? His body was still trying to recover, and if that lady got closer to him...she would definitely notice that he was still alive.

[The Dark Raven]

Basina sighed softly as she turned away from the hulking form of her dead husband and turned toward the second body.  Prodding the second body gently with her toe, she knelt next to the man, moving him this way and that, hesitantly.

Was he...smiling?  That gave her pause.  Gods, but he was scarcely more than a boy.  Kneeling next to the boy, she thought he couldn't be any harm, she kept an eye for any movement, but started to check his belongings as well, with an expert hand at it.  This was how they lived, some days...and the soldiers didn't stop coming, so it was always a need to find new supplies.