The chained man backed away, finally showing some degree of caution towards the point of the spear that had cut him twice already. Brennus was starting to wonder if the man gave a whit about his own life, and then his mind shot back to the strange arrival of his enemy in chains. If he was the slave of some horrific creature of the underworld he was likely a plaything, tortured and defiled constantly by those terrible powers. What a pitiful creature he must be. Brennus now sought to kill him to put him out of his misery. At which point he began to babble in a language the Iceni was not familiar with.

“Dicere sensus!” Brennus barked at him in his bastardised Latin, expecting him to at least speak the language of the civilised world, like the burning, ghostly, figure up above. 

Without further ado, Brennus made quick gathering step towards his foe, drawing first his back-foot level with his front, before stepping forward with his lead left. He would repeat this step to bring himself within seven feet of his enemy, continuing to pursue the man for a few steps at least if he sought to maintain distance between them. At the moment he reached this optimum thrusting range, Brennus would stop endlessly pivoting his spear and jab slightly forward towards the man’s upper torso, before revealing that he was not fully committed to the strike, retracting, and instead thrusting at his right inner thigh.