Example Book: Septimus of Rome

Kick'n It Old School Project: Choose your own adventure style

World Arts Block 3 2021

Antique paper texture

All we found at the front of the centuria, however, were the bodies of him, his horse, and a number of his men. The only sign of the Britons were the arrows they loosed on my comrades. At that moment, the sound of hooves grew louder from the rear and I turned to the stoic visage of Caesar, who also looked down at the tragedy. “A shame. You there,” he motioned to me. “You will take his place as centurion. Fall back to meet with the rest of our forces, and do not let down your guard as he did.”

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At dawn, I awoke to the sound of others stirring in the barracks. Two of the eight men under my command were making the daily porridge for the others and I decided to join them. "I couldn't sleep much after yesterday's news. Do you believe what Dio said about the Fens? He said they come out from the swamp there..." one said. "Oh quiet. You'll spread your anxiety talking like that," the other replied. "Well, what do you think, Septimus?" "I think you better finish making our breakfast. We'll leave in one hour," I tried to joke, hoping to bring some levity to the morning atmosphere. "Wake the others."

As soon as the legion was assembled, Titus led our unit at the front of the vanguard. My eight men and I marched strongly together in our block behind him and two other blocks of eight. The land itself was rocky, with green vegetation covering either side of the path we walked. This area was still very new for us Romans, so scanning the area for dangers, resources, and habitable land was our main objective. The path on which we walked began to fade away with each passing hour, ticking away like sands in a hourglass until something dreadful would happen. Vegetation from before changed as well. Short grasses on plains became long grasses and reeds growing from wetland, and this is when I realized, "Well men, we're in the Fens."

As trained men of the Roman legion, however, we know it is our duty to steel ourselves for any foe. We were trained to face uncertain circumstances after all, and expected to triumph. &nbsp; My men and I chose to ignore Dio's warning and continued rowing, until my commanding centurion, Titus, called, "The Portus Dubris has come into view!" which gave us men hope.

     I looked up to see the lighthouse shining atop the hill, the proud Roman fort of Dubris welcoming us to this foreign land.

Upon unloading our gear from the ship, Titus went with other officers to hear plans from general Caesar. It wasn't long, however, when he came back with some news. He looked on us and breathed heavily, "It seems we're needed sooner rather than later, men. Rest tonight, tomorrow, we will be the vanguard of Caesar's march to the Fens." "Sir, that's the area Dio warned us about, correct?" I puffed up, trying to put on a tough front. "Correct. This isn't a problem, is it legionnaire?" "No sir, we'll be ready at dawn." "Good man. We are legion, we protect not just ourselves, but those to our left and right. And good thing about being in the vanguard is that we're the first to get a break when the fighting starts," he chuckled.

     “Y-yes sir!” I gulped. This changed things, as I would now lead eighty soldiers, rather than my previous eight. “Forward men!” I commanded, to which the centuria formed and followed me. Their company gave me confidence and security, but as I looked back to my men, I couldn’t help but steal a glance at the place of my fallen superior, and wonder if I would meet the same fate at the hands of the Britons.

Septimus, Legionnaire, now Centurion&nbsp; 54 BCE The crossing of the Oceanus Britannicus was rough, but no rumor nor story from my senior soldiers could have prepared my eyes for the sheer bone-white cliffs of Dubris. The high walls were a daunting, grave sign, that chilled my flesh with the cold of the sea. This place was so very far from my home and the warm shores of Rome.

     Cassius Dio, a writer in General Caesar’s retinue, warned us of “supernatural” men in this land of Britannia who, according to him, “paint their skin blue, live in the swamps, survive off small portions of food that satisfy them for days at a time, and endure the cold, rain, and any kind of hardship.”&nbsp;

     This thought carried with us in the past days, sending some men, even one of my closest friends, to even desert our legion in panic. I could possibly still join him if I wished, but the chance of success would be questionable.

<a href="bookcreator://page/mGnc778hSCaWj7Gch1TGNA/left">Turn back &amp; desert the legion - Turn to Page 4</a>

<a href="bookcreator://page/WnmlbMwWQoG95MX67MbC3w/left">Proceed to Britannia - Turn to Page 6</a>

"Turn back and desert the legion now before it's too late!" I thought, as I stood up and dived into the water. The freezing water penetrated my bones, but I had to escape while I had the chance. It was then, however, when I heard the voice of my commanding centurion...

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Archers strung their bows with godlike speed and struck me in the back several times before I could swim away. The centurion scoffed, and the legion left me to suffer and die from my wounds in the middle of the sea. The end.

Dio’s warning seemed to come to mind for each man in the legion, and we all grew quiet. I listened close, but could not brace myself for the boring of war horns in the front of our centuria, where Titus, my superior, was leading the march.

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One soldier ahead yelled, “Arrows!” to which I ordered my men, "Testudo!" to form our shield wall. It was only afterwards that we could go forward to Titus’ position.

Testudo

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