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 ...