Maximus stood to the left side of his grand, and famous legion. A legion of Triarii. A legion of the general's finest soldiers. Maximus was deadly alone, but with his legion he was devestating. He looks to his right, and left. His legion in the middle of a battle formation, a formation of well over twenty legions, and over six hundred men. His heart skipped a few beats as he looked down the line, each soldier ready to die for their country, for their centurions, for their General. Maximus smiled at the thought. He smiled not only because they were ready to die, but because they would follow HIM if he asked. Even if it meant their doom. Maximus stood thinking of the awe that this army imposed on their enemies.
They stood on a field, a grassy field of rolling foot hills. Not a boulder, or a tree in sight. He looked behind him, seeing the archers with their short bows, and behind them, the Onagers, or catapults ready to fire boulders into the enemy's ranks. A sense of pride, and courage, and anxiousness of the battle ensuing a few moments later washed over him, washing away any doubts he might have had before, and replacing them with thoughts of sure victory and an easy campaign....he couldn't be any more wrong.
Stand Ready! He yelled, with his flawless voice, an elf-like voice. He heard the march of atleast two thousand Gaul warriors, they were in the country of Gaul, they were going to conquer or die trying. And soon off in the distance he saw, with his highly evolved eyes of a dragon he saw atleasth two thousand gaulic warriors, and they were marching towards the Roman legionnaires. In moment the two armies stood face to face, two hundred yards away. The romans were quiet, and didn't admit their fears. But even Maximus, looking at the superior numbers of the Gauls, his heart skipped a beat, and began pumping furiously, as adrenlin was pumped into his blood, and he became scared, but no less impetuous for battle.
Fire Onagers! Maximus heard the general yell out. And soon the catapults round boulders, into the mass of two thousands troops, one fell short, but bounces once, twice, and three times, the third crushed about five soldiers, while the other bounces jsut hit grass and dirt, eaving craters in the ground. The other boulders from the other three onagers hit their marks and bounced thre times each killing around seventeen men. The Gauls let out a warcry, a deafening yell of anger, rage, and vengeance. It demoralized more than a few Hastati legions. And soon the Barbarians were charging, at a dead run.
One hundred yards.......fifty yards........fourty yards.... Charge! Maximus heard the general. and He brought his sword arm up sword pointed up into the air, then lowered it quickly, and a horizontal angle. And He and his legion, followed by the other legions followed suite. His heart raced, his mouth open, he began yelling, screaming his war cry, sword poised to strike, shield out infront to act as a battering ram. A volley of four hundred arrows races through the air above them, and rained upon their enemies, killing about two hundred. His legion, had their shield out infront, and spears to the side, poised to impale any soldier of gaul in the way. And soon the two armies clashed, ranks dissapeared, and everything turned to chaos, except for Maximus's legion who held fast, and fought together, as friends, brothers, in formation against an enemy. Maximus swung, slashed, and stabbed, killing a soldier left and right, heaving a man back, heaving them through the air, and back into the mass of their allies, with his shield and strength of three men and more. His sword cut swords to pieces, and sliced and stabbed through armor. His body count so far, twenty.....
Rome! Conquest of the Ancient World
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Yuri meditated on a nearby hilltop, brushing against the warriors' minds. Some were scared, others holding back their emotions, and then the third group was filled with a sense of nobility, that what they do here die or live, would be an honor. Suddenly a tremor arose, both physicly and mentally. Hundreds died. She started selecting them, one at a time seeing the battle through their eyes. Connecting only with the leaders and only briefly, as to not die with the pawns. Closer...., came a voice, and she complied moving nearer to the sounds of the dying.....
Anything is Possible...
And Yet, Nothing is Probable.
And Yet, Nothing is Probable.
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Brearios grimaced as yet another sword glanced off his helmet, sending shocks into his skull and teeth chattering. That was truly irritating, so he ran the soldier through with Feallarch.
His legion was not even close, they went to help another one that was losing, quite badly. He smiled and shook his head. It couldn't be for bad leadership, he was the worst leader, for he cared little for his own troops but they had mutual respect. Plus, most people knew when Brearios was in battle to stay the hell away from him. He did not pause his sword for any man..or creature, in battle.
Tirelessly, his sword made graceful arcs of reddish silver as he danced around the field. His moves were liquid, his technique, infallible. Once he goes into the zone, a white static takes over his ears and he simply moves with the wind. An enemy group seeked to slay him with sheer numbers.
Fools.
A spray of golden fire silenced them forever as it leapt from Andune. He scanned the crowd silently, calculating and his eyes fell on Maximus. He wasn't in any trouble, as usual. His leadership and union with the legion gave him many citations. Made Brearios sick. Battle should be one-on-one. Ah well. Back to the slaughter.
He faced another group of soldiers. Even though he had fought for at least 10 mins straight, he was not winded.
"Come...my lambs...." he whispered.
His legion was not even close, they went to help another one that was losing, quite badly. He smiled and shook his head. It couldn't be for bad leadership, he was the worst leader, for he cared little for his own troops but they had mutual respect. Plus, most people knew when Brearios was in battle to stay the hell away from him. He did not pause his sword for any man..or creature, in battle.
Tirelessly, his sword made graceful arcs of reddish silver as he danced around the field. His moves were liquid, his technique, infallible. Once he goes into the zone, a white static takes over his ears and he simply moves with the wind. An enemy group seeked to slay him with sheer numbers.
Fools.
A spray of golden fire silenced them forever as it leapt from Andune. He scanned the crowd silently, calculating and his eyes fell on Maximus. He wasn't in any trouble, as usual. His leadership and union with the legion gave him many citations. Made Brearios sick. Battle should be one-on-one. Ah well. Back to the slaughter.
He faced another group of soldiers. Even though he had fought for at least 10 mins straight, he was not winded.
"Come...my lambs...." he whispered.
Sausage+Muffin=Muffage
If quitters never win, and winners never quit, what idiot came up with "Quit while you're ahead?!"
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