The Lost Legions- Teutoberg forest

[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.