"Let them run" he hissed, "let them run to their masters and cower at our very sight". The voice came from a shadow, a deceitful creature of subterfuge and trickery. Vulpes Inculta stood proudly on the ridge overlooking the soon-to-be-prey of the Legion,
"Decanus, report our success to Lord Caesar, we shall remain here and watch for profligate activity." The Decanus silently agreed, and took two other Legionaries with him. Lord Caesar would be most pleased with Vulpes, another tribe would soon bow to
flag of the golden bull, another army to enslave.
Night fell across the lonely vigil, a dim glow came only from the moon above, and the dwindling campfire below. Vulpes did not stir, he did not sleep as the others slept, he watched, like a Deathclaw watches a Bighorner Calf moments before charging, the
circle of tents below him are also lit up, a bonfire in the centre, and a tribal ritual of sorts taking place. A man wearing a strange, elaborate headdress stands before the fire, his hands held firmly above his head and an indigenous language coming
from his mouth. Vulpes shifted his position, eager to get a closer look at who was obviously the leader of these degenerate, these tribals were so pitiful, they make their chieftains where such outlandish apparel compared to the others that it may
as well be a sign saying "stab me".
A rustle then broke Vulpes' concentration, a rustle of leaves and branches coming from behind him, machete unsheathed, Vulpes wheeled around and paced mindfully towards the bushes, he reached out with his free hand to pull away the branches, ready to
cut away what ever he found. He finds nothing...
It is then that, out of the corner of his left eye, Vulpes spies a flash of white feathers and tanned skin. In a fluid motion, he turns his body to face the tribal assassin and blocks the assailant's overhand with the blade of his machete. Using his free
hand, Vulpes makes a fist and drives it into the tribal's unprotected stomach, 'tribal runes and false prayers will not protect you' he roared in his head, he then stepped back from the winded tribal and raised his machete above his head, and vengefully
brought the culling bladedown on the tribal's torso. The tribal slumpedto the ground lifeless.
Still regaining his breath, Vulpes returned to the top of the ridge, the ritual had stopped... It was a ploy, they knew the Legion would be watching and so they had intended to catch them off guard, or at least this was what Vulpes thought to be true,
however he was absolutely certain that this vigil was compromised, and that he would have to return to Lord Caesar with what he had already knew. As he got up to leave, he saw two tribals down below, speaking to a woman. The woman wore what appeared
to be armour made from different animals, Gecko hides, Deathclaw scales, Radscorpion chitin, Vulpes would almost have called it impressive if she hadn't looked so barbaric wearing it, she was a pretty girl however... Would make a fine slave.
The following morning, Vulpes returned to Lord Caesar's camp, nothing like what Caesar had planned for when they finally entered the Mojave Wasteland, but was still a large encampment filled with training soldiers and filthy slaves. Vulpes entered Lord
Caesar's tent, he strode fourth towards the throne upon which the mighty Caesar sat expectantly, awaiting Vulpes' report. "Lord Caesar" Vulpes began, dropping to one knee and bowing his head as he did so, "we have discovered the location of the tribal
encampment, the tribe in question appears to be larger than we originally anticipated." He did not move from his knelt postion, nor did he move his head, he remained motionless as the very statues that lined Ancient Rome, "This could prove more of
a challenge than I first thought..." was Caesar's initial reaction, "what else do you know?".
"The tribe appears to have two leaders, one of which is a cheiftan not unlike others we have encountered in the past, a witch doctor of sorts."
"And the other?"
"A woman dressed in various animal hides, sheappeared to be the tribe's champion."
"Bene factum Vulpes, now we know who we're after, have Silus prepare his Century to strike the encampment at dusk"
"yes Lord Caesar, it will be done"
Vulpes left the tent, it was then that Lucius addressed Caesar, "what do you make of the champion Caesar?"
"Normally I wouldn't be too thrown off, but this one seems different, she may be the modernBoudicca to my ancient counterpart, I cannot allow her to achieve even a small victory"
Lucius formed a puzzles expression, he wasn't sure where Lord Caesar was going with this, what he was trying to say.
"Might I enquire as to why, Lord Caesar?"
"You might, because if she scores a single victory over my Legion, she will acheive what Boudicca did when she defeated the original Roman Legion, she will inspire hope, other tribes may hear of her success... And of our failure, thus encouraging more
tribes to take up arms against us and refuse our assimilation. Hope, Lucius, is not something I can allow my enemies to possess."
Lucius seemed to understand better, he adjusted the Ballistic Fiststrapped to his right wrist as he paced in front of LordCaesar's throne. "Silus is an admirable Centurion Caesar, surely he will not fail, and the numbers he will bring in his
wake shall prove more than a match for this tribe." Caesar looked at him, "Silus has proven to be a worthy leader, though he seems to lack faith in his men, he is reckless, he throws troops at the enemy without thinking, he knows only of one tactic.
Brute force." Caesar briefly stared into the flames beside his throne before continuing, "Something tells me this tribe may be more than who we think they are, we know next to nothing about them, not even their name, and yet we have scored victory
after victory in every confrontation. I do not believe that this is a coincidence, Silus' poor command tactics have only worked because they want us to win, perhaps the coming battle will show us their true intentions, that is of course if they aren't
annihilated."
"NOW" yelled Silus, his Century of one hundred Legionnaires charged out towards the encampment from behind the rockface they were previously hid behind, eager to decimate another tribe. The tribals then rushed forward to meet them, neither of the two
leaders in sight, the narrow valley completely filled with men swinging ancient weapons, while a few brandished the tools of destruction forged in the penultimate days of the old world.
The battle raged well into nightfall, Silus watched from the ridgeline, the same one Vulpes had stood on the night before, watching as both Tribal and Legionary were cut down mercilessly. Silus was not like other Centurions, he did not lead from the front
as others such as Aurelius and Romulusdid. Romulus had fallen in battle only a week or two prior to this night, and Silus knew of this, he had never been one to lead from the front and he wasn't about to start, he was a coward pretending to
be a tyrant.
Silus was so engrossed in watching his legionnaires swarm into the valley, vastly outnumbering the Tribals, that he failed to notice the rest of the Tribals on the opposing ridgeline. It came as shock for Silus when spears began raining down on his men,
and the swarm soon became a small gathering of Legionaries, of the one hundred or so he had brought with him, Silus counted twenty seven left. This time he did notice as the Tribal Champion arrived on the battlefield, brandishing a crudley forged
iron blade. She charged forward towards the Legionaries, along with the other Tribals, the Legionaries fought back, and held off the Tribals... Until she closed the distance, the Tribal woman swung her iron blade and slashed two Legionaries across
the chest, she was not a big woman but she could move incredibly quickly, thus allowing her to make quick work of the Legionaries that remanined in her way. Silus then watched as she drove her blade into the chest of the final Legionary... He had
lost the battle, he had sent his men headlong into a trap and lost them all as a result. Silus stepped back from the ridgeline, and slumped against a rock, Lord Caesar was as far from merciful as was humanly possible... He had to run, he turned around
and saw Aurelius approaching him, a stern look on the celebrated Centurion's face. "I will not stand before Caesar in shame!" He bellowed, Aurelius did not flinch, his golden helmet glistened in the Arizona sunlight, "then run, tell all you meet of
the Legion." This shocked Silus, the most decorated Centurion in the Legion, was letting him go? Silus did not hesitate, and proceeded down the ridge into the valley, Aurelius followed at a walking pace, however when both were at the bottom of the
valley, a feminine voice rang out, "Hey! You there", both Centurions turned to see the Tribal Champion speaking their language, too shocked to move, they waited with baited breath for her to continue, only to dread what they heard from her...
"Bring me Lanius..."
