With a long thick spear by hand, short blade at his left hip, and dagger at his right he and his troop of horsemen followed Jacob in preparation for the future battle. Told in tales and legends âcross the globe Gaius was a man of the Roman Arts of War, his army said to be blessed by the Gods Mars, God of War; and Jupiter, God of Creation. His large Calvary had yet to be bested in combat despite numerous attempts. They struck with speed and might, but yet they were compassionate to those who of which they fought. Gaiusâs men wanted not to prolong the death of their enemy, so in term desalted they quickly in attempt to end their suffering. Following Jacob onto the future battlefield and his men of Gregoridis, he said onto Jacob in a low deep voice, âI expect you as my most trusted and closest ally to finish this battle as quickly as possible. Leave them not with even the slightest since of hope, but rather decimate them into the point of retreat. But when they do so, strike their troops and leave not a one to survive. We go by the Roman, Spartanâs Laws of War which means no retreats. We shall fight to the death never giving up hope; never fearing death, for to die upon the battlefield is the most glorious of deaths man can behold. So I ask you Sir Jacob, as appointed leader of the Gregoridis and my most trusted general, if you find any enemy troops or those allied with they slay them. Also if the brother, or sister, husband, or wife, son or daughter is to come into your sight murder they too for they have disgraced my name and thus they too must perish. I hold no remorse for my enemy and thus expect so from you. However I do hold a great amount of respect for my foe and thus once the battle has expired we are to bury every man slain into the Crypts of Kings within New Athens. It is here those who have fallen shall be remembered forever imbedded in time. Do you understand Jacob?â Gaius pondered at the young man awaiting an answer.
As the sun bloomed its light onto the morning sky, the wind slithered on Gaiusâs helm. The cool breeze was slightly refreshing despite the summerâs heat and humidity. Currently it was ninety-eight degrees, far beyond normal considering it was only the beginning June, which the average yearly temperature was eighty-four. Gaiusâs horse grunted for it too like the other beasts were prepared for combat as they stomped onto the ground, pounding it with such force that it was said in history books to have trembled the land in such a way that it could be heard all âcross the Red Empire, but this; however was only a figure of speech. Gaiusâs eye grew tired and weary as age was slowly catching up to he. It was this question which puzzled historians for many a year: How much longer could the knowledge of such a famed and (possibly) well respected general last until the withering of time would corrode his frame and thus end his rain as the Glorious Strategist of the Red Empire?
Last edited by
ArtofFiveSpheres on Sat Jun 14, 2008 2:19 am, edited 4 times in total.
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