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Centurion (prologue)

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Centurion (Prologue)
>You are Anonymous, a Centurion in the Roman Legion.
>You’ve been in the legion for about 23 years, of those you’ve been a Centurion for 7.
>The responsibilities of a Centurion are many, from training soldiers, to disciplining them, to leading them in battle.
>Right now you are currently doing the first thing mentioned.
>With your trusty stick in hand, you lead the recruits over to a wooden pole, about seven feet high.
“Recruits! Assemble single file in by this pole!”
>Following your directions, they organize in front of the pole.
“Your strikes with your Gladius must be quick and precise. You will strike the pole where instructed and at the pace instructed.”
>Your orders were followed by a volley of “Yes, Centurion!”
Motioning to the first recruit, you say,” step forward.”
>The new recruit steps forward, Gladius already drawn.
>Your stick taps near the top of the pole, immediately followed by the stab of a gladius.
>You strike the midsection of the pole, and again, is then followed by the gladius.
>You continue to do this until the sun is high in the sky, then you switch to sparring.
>You observe the sparring recruits, seeing which ones would need more work than the others.
>You spot a recruit who slashes at his opponent, and set off, determined to correct his mistake.
>Arriving to their location, you step in between the two sparring recruits.
“Recruits. You do not slash and fence with the gladius. It is a stabbing weapon. On the battlefield, you would simply stab-“
>You drive the point home by poking one of the recruits in the chest.
“-drop your opponent, and move onto the next man.”
>You turn and poke the other recruit with your stick.
“Do you understand me?”
>”Yes, Centurion.” they reply in unison.
>You leave them to get back to their sparring, but you make sure to keep a close eye on them.
>The sun is slowly beginning its descent, and when it is about three quarters of the way down, you call the recruits for the last training session for the day.
“The final thing we must do today is complete a simple road march. You will keep yourself matched to my pace at all times. I do not want to see anyone fall behind, is that clear?”
>”Yes, Centurion!”
>With that, you order them in position and set off at the head of the formation.
>The march was simple enough, two roman miles, and they arrived back at camp just before sunset.
>You give them the permission to disperse for their meal and then head to your tent for your own meal.
>You arrive at your tent and begin to eat your own meal, a half loaf of bread you had baked earlier.
>The bread itself was rather tough, though for the most part enjoyable.
>After you finish your bread, you decide it best to head for bed early, after all, you needed to get up early to wake the recruits.
>You climb into your cot. After a long day of training the Legionaries, sleep comes relatively swiftly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
>You are Mars, god of War.
>You are currently looking down at one of your favorite humans, ‘Centurion’ Anonymous.
>Why was he one of your favorites?
>Because he was loyal to his home and ESPECIALLY loyal to you.
>Many of his people chose instead to praise Jupiter, but he always prayed to you, before every fight, after every fight, sometimes even before he went to bed.
>You had to admit, the praise was not unwelcome, especially because very few paid homage to you save the legionaries.
>You stroke your beard, thinking on various subjects, but none in particular.
>You had to admit, you were very bored.
>A thought strikes you.
>Why not reward the Centurion for his loyalty with a surprise?
>You thought of what you could do.
>Should you send him to the warring East nations?
>Or perhaps send him to the peaceful land across the ocean?
>Oh, what to do, what to do.
>Or…
>Send him somewhere completely random?
>Yes, the idea sounded very nice.
>With a snap of your fingers, the Centurion, his equipment, and his tent disappear in a cloud of smoke.
>You think of him some more.
>Hopefully it was some place at least half- decent.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
>You are Anonymous.
>You wake up to the sunlight streaming through your tent.
>First things first.
>You pull yourself out of your cot and begin to lace up your sandals.
>Once that is done, you pull your chainmail tunic over your wool tunic.
>After that, you strap on the leather harness that is decorated with your various medals.
>And finally, you tie down your helmet.
>And with that, after grabbing your gladius and scutum [spoiler]legionary shield[/spoiler].
>You step out of your tent and raise your voice.
“Alright soldiers! It is now time to start-“
>You cease your speaking as you see no soldiers in sight.
>In fact, you didn’t see the entire camp at all.
>Not only that, but this place was different from the area where the camp was at.
>You were in a forest, one that reminded you too much of the misty forests of the Gaul than you liked.
>Immediately you realize you need to make your camp more defendable.
>Strange area or no, this place desperately needs a more defendable trench.
>As luck would have it, you spot a spade leaning against the side of your tent.
>You hadn’t been the one to do the shoveling in years, but your basic soldier years flooded back into you mind when you felt the tool with your hands.
>You spen d a good part of the morning digging the trench, thankfully though, your tent and camp is not that big.
>The trench is smaller than you would like, but you are only one man and more important things need to be attended to now that you have done the basic trench.
>You wander into the woods to get some spare wood and rocks for a fire.
>After a short trip in the woods, you return to your camp and make a small fire pit in the middle.
>Once that is done, you check your tent, and, as luck would have it, find some flint and steel, a grain grinder, and some of your ration grain and ration olive oil.
>Starting the fire, you begin to make a loaf of bread.
>Heading back to your tent, you quarter the half loaf of bread you had had yesterday.
>You take a seat in front of the fire, staring into it, your mind begins to wander.
>How did you get here? Where is the rest of the camp? Where is Here?
>For the last question, looking around at the dense trees and fog, you could only hazard a guess that ‘here’ is the Gaul.
>You had campaigned in Germany a few times before, but being in the forests alone was entirely different.
>Your thoughts are interrupted by the smell of baked bread.
>Apparently you had been thinking longer than you had thought.
>taking the bread out of the pans, you begin to quarter it.
>The rest of the day is spent increasing the size of your trench.
>By now the trench is about four feet deep and six feet long.
>As the sun sets, you crawl back into your tent and lay down on your cot.
>Your body was tired, and ached to rest, but your mind kept you up with questions.
>How will I get out? Am I really in Germany? What about the Barbarians?
>Wanting to get some sleep, you resolve that you will set out and do some exploring in the morning.
>And with that, you roll over and let sleep take you.

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Centurion (Prologue)

>You are Anonymous, a Centurion in the Roman Legion.
>You’ve been in the legion for about 23 years, of those you’ve been a Centurion for 7.
>The responsibilities of a Centurion are many, from training soldiers, to disciplining them, to leading them in battle.
>Right now you are currently doing the first thing mentioned.
>With your trusty stick in hand, you lead the recruits over to a wooden pole, about seven feet high.
“Recruits! Assemble single file in by this pole!”
>Following your directions, they organize in front of the pole.
“Your strikes with your Gladius must be quick and precise. You will strike the pole where instructed and at the pace instructed.”
>Your orders were followed by a volley of “Yes, Centurion!”
Motioning to the first recruit, you say,” step forward.”
>The new recruit steps forward, Gladius already drawn.
>Your stick taps near the top of the pole, immediately followed by the stab of a gladius.
>You strike the midsection of the pole, and again, is then followed by the gladius.
>You continue to do this until the sun is high in the sky, then you switch to sparring.
>You observe the sparring recruits, seeing which ones would need more work than the others.
>You spot a recruit who slashes at his opponent, and set off, determined to correct his mistake.
>Arriving to their location, you step in between the two sparring recruits.
“Recruits. You do not slash and fence with the gladius. It is a stabbing weapon. On the battlefield, you would simply stab-“
>You drive the point home by poking one of the recruits in the chest.
“-drop your opponent, and move onto the next man.”
>You turn and poke the other recruit with your stick.
“Do you understand me?”
>”Yes, Centurion.” they reply in unison. 
>You leave them to get back to their sparring, but you make sure to keep a close eye on them.
>The sun is slowly beginning its descent, and when it is about three quarters of the way down, you call the recruits for the last training session for the day.
“The final thing we must do today is complete a simple road march. You will keep yourself matched to my pace at all times. I do not want to see anyone fall behind, is that clear?”
>”Yes, Centurion!”
>With that, you order them in position and set off at the head of the formation.
>The march was simple enough, two roman miles, and they arrived back at camp just before sunset.
>You give them the permission to disperse for their meal and then head to your tent for your own meal.
>You arrive at your tent and begin to eat your own meal, a half loaf of bread you had baked earlier.
>The bread itself was rather tough, though for the most part enjoyable.
>After you finish your bread, you decide it best to head for bed early, after all, you needed to get up early to wake the recruits.
>You climb into your cot. After a long day of training the Legionaries, sleep comes relatively swiftly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

>You are Mars, god of War.
>You are currently looking down at one of your favorite humans, ‘Centurion’ Anonymous.
>Why was he one of your favorites?
>Because he was loyal to his home and ESPECIALLY loyal to you.
>Many of his people chose instead to praise Jupiter, but he always prayed to you, before every fight, after every fight, sometimes even before he went to bed.
>You had to admit, the praise was not unwelcome, especially because very few paid homage to you save the legionaries.
>You stroke your beard, thinking on various subjects, but none in particular. 
>You had to admit, you were very bored.
>A thought strikes you.
>Why not reward the Centurion for his loyalty with a surprise?
>You thought of what you could do.
>Should you send him to the warring East nations?
>Or perhaps send him to the peaceful land across the ocean?
>Oh, what to do, what to do.
>Or…
>Send him somewhere completely random?
>Yes, the idea sounded very nice.
>With a snap of your fingers, the Centurion, his equipment, and his tent disappear in a cloud of smoke.
>You think of him some more.
>Hopefully it was some place at least half- decent.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

>You are Anonymous.
>You wake up to the sunlight streaming through your tent.
>First things first.
>You pull yourself out of your cot and begin to lace up your sandals.
>Once that is done, you pull your chainmail tunic over your wool tunic.
>After that, you strap on the leather harness that is decorated with your various medals.
>And finally, you tie down your helmet.
>And with that, after grabbing your gladius and scutum [spoiler]legionary shield[/spoiler].
>You step out of your tent and raise your voice.
“Alright soldiers! It is now time to start-“
>You cease your speaking as you see no soldiers in sight.
>In fact, you didn’t see the entire camp at all.
>Not only that, but this place was different from the area where the camp was at.
>You were in a forest, one that reminded you too much of the misty forests of the Gaul than you liked.
>Immediately you realize you need to make your camp more defendable.
>Strange area or no, this place desperately needs a more defendable trench.
>As luck would have it, you spot a spade leaning against the side of your tent.
>You hadn’t been the one to do the shoveling in years, but your basic soldier years flooded back into you mind when you felt the tool with your hands.
>You spen d a good part of the morning digging the trench, thankfully though, your tent and camp is not that big.
>The trench is smaller than you would like, but you are only one man and more important things need to be attended to now that you have done the basic trench.
>You wander into the woods to get some spare wood and rocks for a fire.
>After a short trip in the woods, you return to your camp and make a small fire pit in the middle.
>Once that is done, you check your tent, and, as luck would have it, find some flint and steel, a grain grinder, and some of your ration grain and ration olive oil.
>Starting the fire, you begin to make a loaf of bread.
>Heading back to your tent, you quarter the half loaf of bread you had had yesterday.
>You take a seat in front of the fire, staring into it, your mind begins to wander.
>How did you get here? Where is the rest of the camp? Where is Here?
>For the last question, looking around at the dense trees and fog, you could only hazard a guess that ‘here’ is the Gaul.
>You had campaigned in Germany a few times before, but being in the forests alone was entirely different.
>Your thoughts are interrupted by the smell of baked bread.
>Apparently you had been thinking longer than you had thought.
>taking the bread out of the pans, you begin to quarter it.
>The rest of the day is spent increasing the size of your trench.
>By now the trench is about four feet deep and six feet long.
>As the sun sets, you crawl back into your tent and lay down on your cot.
>Your body was tired, and ached to rest, but your mind kept you up with questions.
>How will I get out? Am I really in Germany? What about the Barbarians?
>Wanting to get some sleep, you resolve that you will set out and do some exploring in the morning.
>And with that, you roll over and let sleep take you.

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