Horatius remained silent throughout the proceedings. He had gotten much grayer since the defeat. He was bitter, he was bitter a lot it seemed. The defeat at Eporedia took years out of him and he looked as if he was an old man, even though he had just turned 45. When it was his turn to speak, he rose in powerful silence and looked upon at all the men in the room. "I mourn. I mourn for the soldiers lost and the victory lost that dark day. It has given me nightmares, countless nightmares about the fall of our glorious empire. But these nightmares have a reason I feel. They're a warning. A warning of what will happen to Rome if we do not truly see our situation. We have few allies, and even fewer that are wholly loyal. If we are to survive, we need the support and manpower of a large nation. Who that nation might be, I do not know. But I do know, if we don't have powerful allies, our enemies will join together to destroy us. Nothing unites man like a common enemy." Horatius paused and looked around the room, then continued. "In order to accomplish this, we need a man who is experienced and wise. Who knows the ways of politics and battle, who can meet with this nation and arrange a deal. A deal where we are both content with it's terms. A man who can do that, will lead this empire to victory. But who that might be, I do not know." Horatius looked around the room once more, than sat down, confident that he made his point.