Journal of Gaius Marius
We have entered a campaign based on faulty intelligence. Based on this, we have underestimated our enemy. Our expectations are no longer in line with reality. While we may outnumber our enemies, we are far from supplies, surrounded by hostile forces, and battle will only come when the enemy wishes it. There is no hope for us, but this message may live on. I am sorry, Nireva, for this life I have thrown away.
A constant arrow barrage began as the long, thin tendril of horsemen approached the right square. The Romans maintained a shield wall, but the arrows arrived with such velocity that the meager protection only slowed the arrows. Barbed and razor sharp, each arrow which did not wound became an impediment. Those which did strike home into flesh were impossible to remove. Any man who attempted to dislodge the arrowhead tore muscle and tissue apart in the process. Many desperate men died of blood loss due to foolish triage attempts. Marius had no way to help his men. All he could do was survive.
"They will run out soon. Hold firm men!" Marius yelled. No answer followed the centurion's rally call; morale was precipitously low. The cries of the wounded filled the silence.