[center][h3]Amalian District
Night before the final battle[/h3][/center]

Triscus stood there, his eyes wide and hand shaking as he took in the sight before him. An armoured soldier, weaponless, was lying in a pool of his own blood, surrounded by Amalian soldiers trying to save him. Sticking out of his neck was the haft of a pilum. HIS pilum. Triscus couldn’t stop the sight replaying over and over again in his head, the weight of the spear leaving his hand and landing dead on its mark. The jubilation he’d felt, and then the sickening realisation he hadn’t killed a Tautan warrior, but a Chlotar messenger moments after. [i]“Is he dead..?”[/i] he asked the soldier closest to him, who looked back, nodding his head before speaking [i]“Fucking hell… Good throw but… I’d wager yer in the shit now lad. We need to report this in, he’s got a message for the Legate.”[/i] As he said it, another soldier got up from the body, a bloodied note with hastily scrawled markings in his hand as he took off down the street. Triscus paled as he sank to the side of the street, narrowly avoiding a stream of sewage that ran parallel to the street, his eyes locked on the Chlotar body across from him. [i]“Shit.”[/i]

The sound and screams of wounded men filled the harbour, drowning out even the birds as they flocked to any unattended dead bodies, Quintus walked through the rows of soldiers surrounding him gritting his teeth as he did his best to drown the cries out. He pulled himself onto a wooden parapet lining the edges of the harbour, standing upright before he looked down upon the rows of gathered men. To his front, the First Cohort stood, bloodied and battered, battle tested once more. Some sported bloodied weapons, dented shields, others stared forwards, the shock of battle still played in their eyes. They had taken casualties, the bodies of their comrades lay to their rear, an Amalian Priest was attending the bodies, whereas nearby, the squirming and writhing bodies of those unfortunate enough to not be killed outright were being tended to by Chirurgeons. Quintus had deliberately left them at the rear near the lapping waters of the harbour itself, out of sight, but with their cries piercing his ears, hardly out of mind. 

[i]“Sir, the reports in.”[/i] The voice forced Quintus to snap his gaze up from the exhausted, bloodied soldiers in front of him to the junior Officer who had pulled himself onto the Parapet beside him, behind him, hundreds of Amalian soldiers were making their way into the wide open harbour central, joining the First Cohort. Not as experienced as the First, Quintus knew they wouldn’t hold up as well in a fight, but with a wince he knew he wouldn’t have much choice but to use them. The Officer coughed, and Quintus nodded [i]“Let’s hear it.”[/i]
[i]“Fourth Cohort, Sixth and the Seventh are nearly gone. They joined the Tautom militia when the fighting began. Second, Third, Fifth and Sixth onwards are in good condition. We pulled the soldiers that didn’t betray us from those Cohorts into the Second. It is standing at about… Seven hundred strong.”[/i]
[i]“Any deserters?”[/i] The Officer bit his tongue and nodded.[i] “All Cohorts are reporting a lot of deserters sir… We haven’t done a full count yet,  but…”[/i] the Officer trailed off. Quintus simply nodded. He’d lost three full Cohorts. He was standing at about three thousand men, the thought that men had abandoned their posts to flee an enemy inside a city angered him, but he didn’t show it, he simply grunted 
[i]“And Arminius?” 
“He’s at the Harbour gate, with two engineers and … Something. They look like, giant fucking bellows sir.”
“Thank you. You’re dismissed.”
“There was one more thing sir.” [/i]
[i]“Yes?”[/i]
[i]“A runner appeared, asking for you sir… But. Well. Someone thought he was a Tautom runner. They… They killed him Sir.”[/i] 
Quintus stiffened and turned completely to face the young man, his face knitting into a frown. It was unseemly to kill a messenger, even an enemy. 
[i]“Was it a Tautan runner? Did they at least get what he wanted?”[/i]
[i]“No sir. It was a Chlotar. Vetericus is summoning you.”[/i]
[i]“... Would he have me barking like a dog as well?”[/i] Quintus swore under his breath and looked down at the tired First Cohort, then up at the fresh faced soldiers behind them, Officers ran back and forth to organise the movements of such a large force. He spat on the wooden planks beneath his feet and growled “Put the man who killed that Chlotar in chains. I’ll deal with him later. We’re moving into the commons to link up with the Chlotar’s. Leave the First Cohort here to rest, I’ll summon them when we need them. Until then, they’re our rearguard.”
[i]“Yes sir.”[/i] The Officer saluted, before turning to jump off the parapet, jogging off towards a nearby group of Officer’s awaiting orders. Quintus hopped down himself, walking towards his horse. He finally had the Celesean fire, he thought to himself as he saddled his white steed, the tool that was famed for bringing down kingdoms. And that was exactly what he had planned for it.