centurion on rwby

Far from Home: Prologue.

 In the realm of the Roman Republic, war had been brought to the empire as two sides, their leaders striving to lead the empire in their own ways. And with blood and steel, waged war amongst countrymen as men readied themselves for war, one which will decide the fate of the great republic itself.

However, in one battle, many bodies laid on the ground, fallen in battle as broken spears, swords and armor laid strewn across the battlefield as the survivors of one side, under the leadership of Consul Pompey or simply known as Pompey the Great as those that followed Julius Caesar regrouped to organize their ranks after the battle of Dyrrhachium. And among one of them, was one of the Centurions who coughed blood as he snapped an arrow that went through his armor."Damnant proditores...(Damned Traitors...)" He coughs as he walked across the forest, slashing at the branches and leaves as he continued to walk from the battlefield.It took time for him to properly escape the enemy foe as he looked to his bloodied Gladius, stained by the blood of those traitors."Nunc ubi invencio Locum manendi nocte? (Now, where can I find a place to stay for the night?)" The Centurion wondered to himself as he continued to walk through the forest. And while they weren't difficult to remove they were nonetheless difficult as it felt like many hours had passed as the Centurion began to waver in his resolve as heavy pants were heard."O Silvanus, inter arbores tego.(Oh Silvanus, let me find shelter amongst the trees." He prayed to one of the gods, praying for sanctuary from the night, even in Roman territory, there lay a menagerie of threats that could easily bring him down.Seeing the night coming and the sun, its glorious rays slowly fading from the horizon. Cursing himself for his single-mindedness, he moved as he hastily gathered the fallen branches and leaves and from a small pack, he pulled out a jagged flintstone and grabbed a nearby rock, perfect for starting a fire.

"Bene!(Good)" He exclaims as he gathers all of the dried tinder and lumber and repeatedly attempted to use the flint and stone to create a fire.

And with each fail, cursed himself and his luck as he repeated the act and soon as smoke emerged from the wood, he blew on it as hard as he could, and soon created a fire.He gave a silent cheer in response as he used his sword as an improvised firepoker to keep the fire alit. Seeing his progress done well, he sat down and tended to his wounds as he huffs from the pain, especially from this condemnable arrow in his shoulder.He grunts as he slowly took off his armor, slowly, especially around his right left shoulder as he had to carefully remove the lorica hamata around the arrowhead.Curse those Pompeians for following that man and curse him for causing the republic to be torn in two. Curse him for rallying the Senate against Caesar. But...right now, survival was first priority, and then to regroup, to return to his brothers, his conturbernium, his mighty lord and to behold what Caesar had for the Republic.He tisks, pushing those thoughts away as he did his best to apply aid to his shoulder, with the limited supplies he had, one must make them count, lest he be dragged down to the Underworld.As the embers burned on, the Centurion let out a grunt as he looked to the available wargear and supplies he has on hand.Unfortunately, his sleeping bag was all the back at the war camp, and was thus cut off from the usual befitting his station. And he had to drop his shield to lower the weight on him, no doubt he would be punished for such negligence of wargear...He counted his sword, his armor and helmet, as couple of food rations, mostly Bucellatum, a waterskin for drink, alongside another for posca, while strong-tasting and foul to those who tried it once, was simply long-lasting compared to the wine he once drank last night.   

A sigh escaped his lips as he took a sip from his water to better aid himself. "Quaeso te inveniam viam meam... (Please let me find my way back...)" Once more, did he pray to the Roman Pantheon, Jupiter, Mars, Saturn, every god he could remember and worshipped.

And after a quick sip of his posca he slowly put on his armor as he feels the fatigue of battle catch up with him.He soon drifted off to sleep, with the sound of the campfire, soothing his slumber...