Gaius winced as another rock ricocheted off the cart immediately in front of him, flying off into the forest and sending up a flurry of frightened crows. He turned around to see Alonso pointedly staring off into space with a sheepish grin. "You are going to put someone's eye out with that little toy sling if you aren't careful" Gaius said. With a little chuckle, Alonso replied "If I had wanted to harm you old friend, you would be wandering the banks of the river Styx before you even drew your blade". Gaius smiled. The pretentious little bugger was an auxiliary from the distant Balerian islands, as where all of Alonso's unit. They were brought out to this god forsaken path on the wrong side of the Rhine by their incredible expertise with the sling.  Alonso was no roman citizen, yet he was the closest friend Gaius had. Gaius was among a small legionary outfit tasked with keeping the auxiliary archers and slingers from being slain in close quarters fighting, and they did their job well; their auxiliary unit had survived many brutal skirmishes with the raiding Germanic tribes. The tribes had been getting bolder recently, and a distant fort had fallen to their armies. Their unit was sent to recover the fort and teach these uneducated animals a lesson. Though this education was continuously delayed by the incompetence of their leader, praetor Varus.

"Hades' Halls, what are we stopping for this time!" called a man up ahead, as, for the fourth time that day, the entire column ground to a halt. Alonso dropped heavily on a fallen log and unstrapped a sandal, shaking rocks and dirt out of the bottom. “We walk for days along this goat trail, hindered by logs and unsteady footing. What I wouldn’t give for solid roman stone under my feet" he grumbled. Alonso, though whinier than a noblewoman, had a point. Their travel had been marred by this piddly track, leaving the normally orderly legion stretched out hodgepodge over half a league. The mud and the damp had spirits low, and through the remarkably short sight of their praetor, they were low on food and marching on half rations.  Varus finally stepped out of his covered carriage, his many chins wobbling with anger as a messenger boy explained to him exactly why 3 legions were being held up by a log across the road. Gaius turned to lament there poor location when he heard a loud THWACK! behind him. Gaius turned sharply, just as the messenger boy looked down, seeing the long black shaft of an arrow sticking out of his chest. Gaius turned, drawing his sword and yelling out "we are under attack!” More arrows flew out of the woods, impacting men and animals all down the line. Order had collapsed, with too little space on the trail for a proper formation. Gaius and Alonso ducked behind a nearby supply cart, hoping to gain some semblance of order. "We must push into the forest and end this deathly rain! To me men" he bellowed, hoping to gather the scattered men in the valley. As the men around him gathered their swords and shields, he pushed them into a loose turtle formation, protecting those Balerian slingers that where nearby, Alonso included. While they attempted to form up, the rain of arrows slowed, and a loose knit group of barbarians came streaming down the hill, crude axes raised overhead, long black hair flowing in the wind. Alonso finally took control of his unit, calling out to prepare an initial volley.  The roman soldiers locked their shields together, swords sliding through the gaps like fangs from a snake. The stones of the slingers whizzed overhead, threatening to crack the skull of any they impacted. The crazed Germans drew close and Alonso turned to Gaius for approval to fire. With a nod from Gaius, Alonso Shouted "launch!" and a maelstrom of rocks fell on the attackers like the fists of Terra. The barbarians that still stood charged forward, diving into the shield wall, hoping to break the line. The center threatened to buckle, as one roman lowered his shield too far and a quick axe strike cleaved his head. But the line held, barbarians pressed up against the shields dispatched with quick surgical strikes from the roman swords. The last few fled into the woods, disappearing as fast as they appeared. Gaius looked around at the damage, caused so quickly and by so few attackers. As he examined his surroundings, Varus, like a great white worm, crawled out of the mud under his cart, swearing and cursing.  "We must prepare for another assault!" he squawked, scraping off the mud and blood on the cloak of a fallen roman. "Make preparations!"

Gaius wiped the sweat from his brow as he finished hauling the supply cart to its proper position. Many along the line had not fared as well as his men, falling to disorder and brutal hand to hand fighting with the barbarians. This was no simple smash and grab ambush, this was a pre-planned attack, all down the line. They had lost nearly two thousand men, and along with them many supplies had been burned, leaving their supply shortage more critical than ever before. The decision had been made to fortify, so for the last hour Gaius had led the efforts to drag nearby carts and fallen logs into a weak perimeter, forming a horseshoe with trenches at the opening, with lookouts posted against German assault. The situation was clearly dire. Barbarians where spotted in the woods all around their small encampment, circling like wolves before a kill. Luckily, they had not attacked, so it seemed their feeble defenses where enough to discourage a frontal assult. But there was no way to feed this army trapped in their walls, and something would need to be done soon. Gaius had taken stock of his unit, and found it decimated; many of the legionaries had fared well, but the lightly armored slingers had not been so lucky. Many had caught stray arrows and perished on that trail. Gaius's centurion had fallen, leaving him the highest ranking in his cohort. Later that day, Varus called a meeting of all of the Centurions in order to come up with a plan.

"There is but one course of action, we must sortie from these walls!" Gaius said. "This feeble encampment will soon be our grave if we stay here. The food has run out, the water soon to follow. We must escape, and sooner will be better than later. "Food may be in short supply, yet we remain safe within these walls! There are hordes out there, just waiting for us to make a move and end us all!" Varus replied, panic in his voice. Gaius responded "if we stay, we starve or are slaughtered, hiding in our holes. If we move in the night, we may escape these evil woods before attack can be made.” I will not go!" squeaked Varus, stomping like a child demanding a toy. Gaius looked him up and down before calmly saying "If you wish to stay in the camp absent your men, you may hold off the barbarian horde on your own."

As darkness fell, the romans stood prepared for their exodus. They were to abandon the trail, in a dash up the hill and through the woods, hoping to disappear before the barbarians realized what was happening. They would stay close, and would make for the shores of the Rhine, where the nearest forts lay. The men stood in formation at the opening of the horseshoe, ready to flee. As the sun set over the hill, they moved, all of the troops in the makeshift fort dashing up the slope. As they ran, there was shouting from the woods surrounding them; the scouts had realized what was happening, and the greater force of barbarians would be here soon. Those scouts that where in the path of the Romans met unfortunate end as the legionaries went by, and as the crested the hill, there were already hundreds of the Germans streaming towards them.  It seemed they were free, but as they saw down the other side of the hill, they saw more barbarians, startled by the sounds, armed and coming up the hill. "FORM UP!" Gaius shouted, hoping to take control of the scattered troops before they were overrun. The dull thump of arrows striking bodies was everywhere, as the surrounding barbarians released their deathly barrage. From both sides, the barbarians closed in, swinging axe and hammer. THWACK! Gaius looked down, seeing the crude black feathers of an arrow protruding from his shoulder. THWACK THWACK! A second and third arrow found their mark around Gaius's now lowered shield. The world begin to spin, Romans falling all around him. The barbarians had punched through the roman line, and all had fallen to brutal hand to hand combat. Blood and bodies coated the earth. As his senses dulled, he vaguely felt a hand grab the back of his armor, pulling him into the woods to the side. He heard a grunt; "by Jupiter, you legionaries carry a lot of junk". The battle line lay broken, and the combat was close and confused, and as Gaius slipped into his reverie, no one noticed the slender Balerian slinger dragging a roman off into the woods.