The Isle of the Fell

II - The Second Betrayal of Caesar Part I

The following texts have the liberty of being bolded and italicized, due to their more recent discovery.

2289 - 2305 - Further Conquests and the Isle of Fell

Over the continual years, the great campaigns of Caesar conquered the disunited kingdoms of the Fell. By all appearances, the successors of the primordial and being sufficiently and wholly destroyed, and integrated into the large conglomerate of the Empire. It was a direct contradiction, for the resurrected Julius Caesar now led Man as a whole, and not the mere non-radiated aspects of it. It is unknown whether or not he should have attempted ethnical genocide and destroyed all orcish, goblinoid, and elven races, but what was set for was the maximum that could be achieved, and so goals must evolve and be redefined.

By this time, after annexing most of the European continent save the great landmass of what was once Russia, Caesar was a somewhat elderly man, at the age of seventy two, but his will remained absolute. He was once the dictator of a superpower, the subject of a tragedy, the conqueror, and the founder of modernity. Now here he was again, the bringer of light into the world of darkness, the spreader of unity into the common cause of Man.

And, as Caesar could not be everywhere at once, he chose generals, leaders of the new men that populated the continent. Nepos was one of them. To Caesar, he was meant to be his successor. This, however, was not well known, as Nepos did not even hold the title of Imperial Legate, which would designate himself as the governor of a province and the overarching authority of several legions. Instead, he was most famous for his actions in regards to the mostly empty First Elven-Roman War, which gave him a reputation as a powerful general, if but a niche and uninfluential one.

Amongst his Legates he created the General Committee, whose existence was unknown until the beginning of the series of events known as the Isle of the Fell to the general public.

There was Felix Lucius, an aging commander of the pre-Great War world. Somehow older than Caesar himself in terms of conscious years, he was powerful and well-known in his time, and even with the collapse of nearly all information relating to technology before the Great War, save the basic rudiments of crude creation, was of great reputation.

Caesar may have disliked him, but knew he was vital. For him to not be in the Committee would be asking for a rebellion, as was killing him. But to be one in the committee bound one to an oath that placed Caesar as his leader, and so the only concern would be him rejecting his invitation. Fortunately that concern ceased with his acceptance.

Not only was Lucius a general. He was also a senator, and a very influential one. And not only that, but Lucius, although an accomplished general, was far more focused and concerned around politics, as one from a formerly free world would be.

There was, of course, Nepos. Nepos was the successor, the quiet one, the one favored by Caesar but ignored by the public; they were the two most fundamental forces of Second Roman society, and at their odds the situation grew contradictory, for the newly Roman crowd failed to grasp the significance of the shattering of the Hycattus. For them, Caesar had accomplished so much already, and so the feat of Nepos was overshadowed.

Then there was Cato of Syracuse, whose true name was Cato Uripedes. He was the philosopher, and the stoic. There were rumors that he was once a scientist of Great Britain, though whether or not he had connections to the Avatars is unknown. It is unlikely that he did, however, as he most likely would have been hunted down by the dreaded rage of Helios, which the Sun King later regretted, for it was the most bestial form of his anger, and so it was replaced, even in history, with cold, hard reason.

Formerly, Cato was the minister of the remnants of the United Kingdom, which following the Great War divided itself into a muddy anarchy. Seeing Cato's great skill in the organization of an entire island, he was immediately a powerful proponent in the plans of Caesar. He remained Imperial Legate of Great Britain.

There was Marcus Albon, of an obscure French noble house, which, like all forms of nobility, had collapsed into nothing but public appearance. Still, the great funds provided before the Great War led him to have an expansive education. Albon was seen as the quiet one, and the young one, though several years older than Nepos. Albon was very supportive of Caesar with a high degree of fidelity, for to him he represented the supreme vision of Man. But Albon was also always the questioner, not because he was against Caesar, but because he idolized him, and it was these questions which caused him to become one with the Committee, despite him being only a Senator and being a citizen.

And at last, there was Quintus the Predecessor, or Quintus the Regent, as he was called by Caesar and himself, who was of similar age to Caesar. Nobody knew his last name, nor where he came from. He may or may not have been resurrected along with Caesar from sometime in the past, and changed his name. Whatever the case, he was trusted by him more than any of his generals, and was considered his most faithful companion, and the one person Caesar believed to be of equal capacity, yet never allowed him to become a successor. Frequently, he served as the interim leader in his absence.

The Isle of the Fell is also known as the Second Betrayal of Caesar. At this time, Caesar had finished his conquests in what was once called Ukraine, and lacked the manpower to return in sufficient time to Rome. Thus the Regent remained, hiding, lurking in the shadows, for unlike Caesar's, his style of government was indirect, which was especially efficient in the short term which suited his position.

Whilst in the Senate Lucius stood. Previously, he had accepted the illusion of democracy in the Second Roman government, and, until recently, had believed in it fully. It was until what to him was the ultimate betrayal of Caesar that he had shifted himself. Roughly five years ago, Caesar had overstepped, and revealed to him the true nature of the Second Rome.

It was after the sacking of Munich, a large city of the Orc-goblins, and the future capital of the orc-goblin Duchy of Bavaria. The orc-goblins, themselves being designs of Man to create a warrior race to supersede the common soldier, then twisted and reformed into greater creations of the magic of Tharizdun, were, in Tharizdun's mind, the superior warrior race for an army of similar tactics of Man, not relying on magic nor unearthly fear, but intimidation, ability, and pure force.

Frequently, the demons of the Fell caused much havoc upon the Roman people, and so Caesar issued a new decree, the absolute ban of all religions beside the Religio Romana. Not only were all other faiths extinguished from worship, they were extinguished from history and respect. They were seen, and then taught, similar to great delusions of madmen or the playthings of children, in order to ensure the utter shattering of any large Fellic cult, and so, although demonic worship and incursions of demons remained a problem forevermore, it no longer plagued the Second Roman Empire to near its deathbed.

This reform was issued far before the battle, and, as Munich was nigh-destroyed, gave Lucius great fame. Whilst the battle raged, he noticed the freedom of speech, religion, and press in the villages vanquished. Thus, he asked Caesar the purpose of his actions.

And Caesar tiredly responded, as often quoted: "We are the Second Roman Empire. We are the tyrants, the iron fist. And through unity we have to spill the blood of hundreds of thousands of men. But not simply men. Other sacrifices must be made, and as the world has regressed towards us, we must regress as well, for the world is warlike once more. Freedom, liberty, the destruction of the hierarchy-as Montesquieu, one scholar past and now before my time stated, men surrender freedom for protection."

"Millennia ago, I was softer like you. I, although as brutal and stone-hard a commander I am now, believed in redemption, in that the enemy could learn and become friends from the foe they were, and so learn. But it was folly. For in the end, I was slain by those I had forgiven, for I believed they could be redeemed. But in the end, forgiveness is but the facet given to the public. And now, already with the power centered around me, the distinction between me and autocracy is unseverable. And so, as I was chosen by your past union of democracy to assume dictatorship, I will show the strength of autocracy."

But Lucius felt weakness in his argument, for to him, he had been taught the ideals of justice and liberty from his very beginning, and to him, democracy was full of weaknesses. Dictatorship, however, amplified those weaknesses. But seeing his own beliefs contradict his reality, he became conflicted.

One day, in the year 2291 or 2292, Lucius, along with many legions of allegiance to him, came to the sight of the destroyed Munich once more. By this point Caesar had conquered the whole continent save Russia, Scandinavia, and a few Baltic territories.

The eerie atmosphere withdrew his soldiers, and frightened them, yet drove him closer. In the end, his soldiers lost their strength in morale, and remained unmoving. And so Lucius said: "And as the individual, I journey with and through myself."

From inside the rubbled fortress he walked silently, and the darkness enveloped him and beckoned him farther, him being the torch-like firefly against the black canvas. Whilst in his absence, his legions remained, for by this time, the continent was in the most tranquil form of peace it had had, and despite the frequent uprisings and clashes, was relatively calm to what had preceded it.

But without a common enemy, Man divides himself once more. And so Felix Lucius, an Imperial Legate of the highest renown, and governor of Noricum and Rhaetia, chief of wine-making, cheese-grinding, and steel, found himself looking upon the Kaylashee, the Astral Manifest.

It was an attractive, androgynous mixture of male and female, roughly two feet shorter than a Balor, yet still, tall, brooding, and fearfully unalleviating.

In the way it could be considered by some to be attractive is that it was an alien, fearful icon, one of pale flesh, with movements and reflexes insectoid yet appearing with complete moon-like, smooth skin. It was unapproachable to those with sensible will, but one that was commanded to do so made no effort to resist, and those that did considered themselves darkly honored to do so.

And Lucius stood, facing the demon. They looked at him, emotionless, similar to a cold slate.

Lucius said, "What do you want to tell me?"

It was unknown what occurred that night, but Lucius returned to his legion, and ordered all forms of artillery, all Arcane Scipios, Ballistae, and God Engines, to lay fire. The ruins of Munich lay destroyed, flattened completely.

And then Lucius, the returned commander, spoke. "Comrades, we seek a new truth. Our emperor is a tyrant, hailing from a land of despotism. And now, because of the turmoil inflicted across the world, he believes that he has the right, but even more so the duty, to centralize power and rule absolutely. But he is wrong. For I have seen that Man was once the pack animal, and still is today, where the power of the group decided, with the weaknesses of the individual being overshadowed by the strengths of others. And this wasteful hierarchy, it is the product of individual greed, of desire. Let us discover this new truth endowed on ourselves. It was given to us by the blood and kin of what we once called the great enemy. And so, in the shadows, let our crusade commence."

2291 or 2292? - 2294 The Journey of Felix

In the disguise of a caravan of travelers, Lucius and the legions loyal to him journeyed across the territories of Second Rome.

Across the regions he traveled, and, aided by the strength of his legions and Kaylashee(unknown to anyone), he discovered what he believed to be the truth he was looking for. The material aspects of his journey soon proved irrelevant to him, and his legions became but blind followers, obeying only because of reputation.

He learned of the First Timeline, and of how Man itself, in its present state, was but the offspring of a race that came before it, that had shattered its own existence and all of existence in his plane. Nothing was hidden from him. All was known. He learned of the Elven, of how they were abused by the Avatars, and their response was the dissolvement of the state, for now everyone was the government. He saw the complete history of his own timeline as well, and he saw the light of the first creation. The Fell, the remnant of Tharizdun, hid nothing, for nothing needed to be hidden. The conclusion would come to him naturally.

And so Lucius reasoned henceforth, that all species were created by Tharizdun. But as all Men had the ability to topple a regime for its inability of protection, so too did Man have the right to secede. And Man's rise across the planet was but a natural one, for when wars are won, spoils are kept.

Lucius recognised too, the giving of the dark gifts to Man by Tharizdun. However, to him, it was Man's fault for the use of them, for Man could have built a new culture at any time, and served himself. Instead, Man spread through the mountains and across oceans, becoming the despot of all animals...

It then struck him, the contradiction of his argument. Man deserved to win because Man won. Henceforth the despot deserved to win because he was superior at tyranny. Yet the despot was overthrown, and replaced by a democracy, because of the optimality of democracy.

But, to one bound and whose virtues were set by morales, what made Man deserve the right to cause such extinction, to pollute the aura of earth and cause harsh holes beyond the sphere of air? This was the principal question.

But Lucius, like any man, thankfully for the preservation of the species, was biased towards the fate of Mankind. And so he remained, by his truthful or untruthful reasoning, as conflicted, but not concluded.

He decided to learn more, and delve deeper. And so what he was searching for manifested around him. The Fell was absolute democracy, for the essence of the individual combines to form the state, the nigh-omnipresent mind of Tharizdun, unlike the human state, where the essence of the individual overpowered the properties of other individuals. Formerly, pure democracy failed to function because of the lack of strength the average individual possessed. This was true no longer. And as for the elves, they had made the ultimate, unacceptable sacrifice: the sacrifice of emotion, of humanity.

This, he realized, was for the good of the people. He could not let history repeat itself, and take its natural course of slow improvement that Caesar recommended, taking billions of lives along with it. To suffer, as was the global charter he once obeyed, and remained faithful to, was something only to be done in necessity. He desired a free world, one untouched by malignant harm. For Caesar being resurrected by the European Union, as he claimed, they must have made a mistake. Let the reign of freedom, justice, and liberty take hold.

And he would, as seen in his great vision, create a new state of Man, one endowed and reconciled with its creator, for which it had betrayed. And his creator was the most fallen of all monsters, and seeked to destroy Man, but Man would become the creator in his vision, his prophecy, his destiny, or his folly; they would become one, and by this Man and Tharizdun would become the true ruler of the Earth, for they would be one.

Yet one thing was hidden from him: the destruction of the world that was by Tharizdun. For although his reasoning had manifested into faith and doctrine, one thing remained, unteathered by notions; it was his absolute call to justice, that Tharizdun saw weakness in, for justice was subjective and prone to opinion, and so thus, he hid it from him, the genocide he had done.

It was at the sight of Magdeburg, the greatest of the fallen Fellic cities, and home to the last major cult of the Fell, that this occurred.

At roughly the same time as this, Cato had created the Legislative Assembly, a secretive group dedicated to the restoration of power to the Senate, and to improving its status past a mere body of advice. Although on paper the Senate was just as powerful as it had been as a modern legislative branch, just as the twin branches of Senate and Emperor were an illusion in the first Roman Empire, so too was it in this case.

But this assembly, unlike the French or American assemblies that had preceded it, lacked power, for the leader it insulted was competent and popular amongst the people. He was the organizer of all public entertainment, and being adept at that role, repopularized all Roman sports to their former glory, save the fights of gladiators for their cause of unease amongst the new public, and preserved the old games.

Yet there was still doubt in the hearts of the people, for there were all the elements of an autocratic state; there were censorship, unvoiced opinions, the recreated social hierarchy of old Rome, and all assemblies were dissolved and relocated to a single, advisory body, the Roman Senate.

It was in this doubt, this fear, that the Legislative Assembly, themselves being an unaware pawn of Lucius's game, would feed upon.

2294 - The Storm of Nepos

It was at this time that Nepos learnt of the Legislative Assembly. Seeing a chance to rise to the main political stage, whilst in the absence of Caesar, he acted immediately. He distrusted Quintus, and felt him as an unnecessary component between him and Caesar. He hated most of all the theories that Quintus was Augustus resurrected, which would explain his old age, for he knew he was the heir of Caesar, and wanted to be the embodiment of all that he was.

Perhaps if he were older, and knew of the battle-scars his warriors had faced, things would have turned differently, but that did not happen.

Whilst both Cato, the Assembly, Nepos, and Albon were in Rome, Nepos marched to the Curia Julia, the most common Senatorial meeting building, and declared:
"You, Cato of Syracuse, and your English bastards and conspirators of your assembly, Drian, Claudin, Lancelot, Gaswain, Yvain, and Elyan, I declare you, in the name of our Gods and the legality of Rome, heretics of the highest order."

This left Cato shocked and bewildered, for he did not know how Nepos had discovered the Assembly, but more importantly how he had considered it heretical, for it was merely a school of ideas that caused no insolent action.

Taking advantage of Nepos's lack of renown, Cato immediately rejected the legality of Nepos's order, and recited the lines of the proper legal punishments for such an act. This only caused great rage to Nepos. He was the successor to Caesar, to him the greatest man the world had ever known. And how limited was he to be unable to declare himself to this role! The rage throbbed in his mind violently. He walked forward. Each step taken was the rumble of thunder, of righteous judgment, of the conclusion of justice.

He declared, and declared openly: "You do know of the General Committee, do you not? And of how I, Nepos, is heir to Caesar, where my lowly rank of Legate of a single legion serves only to distract the lowly sectors of crime and assassination?"

At this time Cato was frozen, for he could not declare the General Committee nonexistent, for to do so would be to be against it, and violate the oath given by Caesar, but to declare it would be a violation of secrecy. Yet, even if it were declared, Nepos at the moment would have no higher authority than him. And so he accepted, and declared this truth to the world.

In his great anger, and in a moment of supreme folly, Nepos, as Hamlet would have done, thrust a javelin into Cato's chest, resulting in his death.


The Senators stared. They could do nothing, but separate themselves from the names spoken by Nepos. It was at this time, to the discord of the Second Roman public, that the powerlessness of the Senate was thus proven,

For what could the Senate do? It was murder from the perspective of the common man, yet to Nepos it was righteous judgment. The Senate could propose, could host festivals and award honors, but these honors could be denied by the Emperor or by his immediate magistrates, which were bound to him by blind loyalty, for the free-thinking were the most dangerous, the consulship was occupied by Caesar and Quintus, the tribunes were either taking without sincerity or in the case of the plebeians, entirely in support of the Emperor, for to them anything was better than the ceaseless chaos which was not experienced by those with islands of luxury, the Quastors lacked public image and would have no reason to support the fall of Nepos, and there was only one Aedile of true power, and that was Quintus. The Second Roman Empire divided power so well, with such a level of caution, that no attempt, no coup could be made without the sudden showing of weakness.

The Praetors did not exist, but were in former secrecy the General Committee, and now Nepos was stated to be above them, the senate. It was a moment of realization, and the heads of the common men and women turned, shocked, yet cynically expecting, the true surfacing of tyranny.

All would have been lost, and already much had already been, had Quintus not arrived on the scene, accompanied by his veteran escorts. He had Nepos arrested immediately. Quintus knew, as any wise man not choked by conceit nearby, of the impending doom of Rome. And so he placed, and placed quietly, unseen, a small key for the escaping of his cell.

In a window, somewhat far away, Albon stared, and knew of the tyranny the Roman Empire had now thrust itself upon.

2295 - The Insurgency of Rome and the Second Crossing of the Rubicon

Fear is the first cause of a revolution. It is not the belief that life can be better that drives a rebellion, it is the belief that something can be done to stop life from becoming worse. And hope, the possibility of success, was what differentiated one lowering of quality of life another, and allowed that lowering to anticipate rebellion.

However, what was misunderstood by many, was that fear, as in the fear that causes one to antagonize the oppressor, was what lead to any possibility of hope, for a peasant family could slave on for millennia, and have plenty of opportunities to increase their standing, and even be encouraged by some to do so, but in the end, they would believe that their suffering was necessary, and not only necessary, was the natural course of the state.

But if the taxes were raised and the peasants starved, they began to wish for sanctuary, for safeguarding, for stability. If the men were hanged for deviating from the popular opinion, then the minorities in fear of what could happen to them if the course of events continued, began to desire a better situation.

The Boys of Liberty formed because of the massacres, the taxes, and the tyranny of British rule. The Bastille was torn down out of fear of death, and quick, sudden war, which could only lead to the destruction of all that opposed the monarchy, and so, because the people felt threatened, became powerful and formed the Assembly. The Tsardom was executed, marched to the city center and fired upon, because the people feared that the disintegration of the army would engulf them, and because the former earlier protests had become shattered and destroyed. What is feared is treated with hate, and what is hated is moved against. Such is the cycle of history.

And when the enemy is set, there must be hope against its invincibility, a flaw which can be exploited that provides strategy. Fear, in many cases, is necessary for the oppressor, for the slow erosion of will occurs without it, but as in history, is weakened with overdoing. The failure of the immediate squashing of the Assembly led to the belief in the French Revolution, as had the failure to silence the revolutionary leaders of the Continental Congress. And in the dark future that lay ahead, a similar situation approached.

In great fear, which derived from the ultimate source, the powerlessness and illusion of the Senate, the Second Roman people gathered and discussed the situation fervently. Once this news had reached the ears of Quintus, he created the Inquisition, officially, the Inquisition of the Combating of Heresy, to eliminate such dissent. The safety of the state resulted in the worst forms of tyranny and the branding of thoughtcrime, for it has never been clear which is more important, the protection of the people, or the rights of the people. Preachers of republicanism were eliminated, and no secretive salon or committee lay unscathed.

And in this time of desperation to the common man, in this vacuum of hope, the smallest droplet of inspiration, of change, was magnified by a thousand, and its direction changed to the absolute good, for it was the great delusion or hopefulness of man, depending entirely on perspective to change the most unsatisfactory of all situations. But foremost before that was the instinct of survival and self-preservation, and so none followed the notion.

In the harshest of all actions, Quintus ordered Felix Lucius to Rome, in order to strengthen the defenses of the Italian peninsula as he thought those legions idle. Not only that, Lucius was known as a champion of the rights of the Senate, and so he hoped he could return the illusion of power with his presence.

Thus sprang from the shadows and the guilty desires of Man, came Lucius, or rather, his absence. It was publicly announced, his arrival, and for two weeks no developments were made. Messengers disappeared and communication from the Northern provinces were cut. Quintus had strengthened the defenses of Rome to its maximum; any more and the instincts of order would be overridden by the instincts of survival.


It was at this moment that the world had changed. Voices so loud and shocked shook the world. It was the loudest period of earth, and with it followed the silence of uncertainty.

For Felix Lucius had arrived with his legion, and had crossed the Rubicon, as Caesar had done nearly three millennia ago.

He, the great orator, had already gained the hidden support of the provinces, for he had waged bitter war upon the pro-Imperial elements of his legions, and came charging forth.

And if Lucius was not immediately struck down, the fire would ignite, he would return and preach the words of democracy and the unity with the creator, and the log would be burned down. It now depended on this single spark, as it had been with the Elven, for the enduring of the Empire.

And the spark was set.

Whilst in Caesar's continued absence, the exiled young Primus Pilus of Lucius's greatest legion, the VII Canis, Coriolus Gnaeus, gathered his honorary sword and shield, the panoply and wargear of such a man, with the markings of suitable rank, knew of the darkness that would unfold, despite his possible absolute lack of information relating to Lucius's charge.

No planning was set forth for a revolution. Yet somehow the unconscious animal particles of the brain knew the inevitable, the ultimate destruction of tyranny. He marched by himself outside, and raised his longsword in the air. It was forged from the labor and toil of the forgers of Andalusian steel as opposed to Noricum, distinguishing him entirely. He was once an ordinary subject or citizen, chosen by his skill, or his former higher birthright before the Great War. Whatever the case, he declared:

"Friends, fellows, subjects of all nations! All cultures suppressed, destroyed, or treated with ridicule! No longer must we hide as the clams do from the whirl-waves of Rome. For Felix Lucius himself has realized, and I, Coriolus Gnaeus, his former Primus Pilus, former commander of the first cohort of the VII Canis, realize this dream, of nationality, of the freedom of culture and democracy. This melting pot of cultures fulfilled its purpose for the unification of Man, but is needed no longer. Now the two tyrants, the third in gaol. Long live Italy! Long live Germany! Long live the Orc-Goblins and their Duchies of the German states! Long live Spain! Long live Portugal! Long live Denmark, Belgium, Germany, Greece, the Elven in their distant hands... Long live England! Long live Scotland! ... It is tyranny we are bound by. Here we have the Inquisition. We have the destruction of our religious tolerance, or lack of censorship, freedom and liberty. We have seen already and know the truth, for when young Nepos, crueler than even his adoptive father, slew Cato Uripedes for the support of the extension of the Senate. We live in an iron hell, one that melts and boils daily. To live like this is to deny the progress of Man. And to the revolution, we begin!"

He may had been treated like a madman, or a hooligan of songlike delusion, but those who recognized the steel of his words were moved by them, for they knew him by his fame, and if he had to, he would kick their door down. Soon this mob grew, taking whatever weapons they had with them. Clubs, daggers, swords, kitchen knives, some even had the rare form of archeotech firearms, though this was exceptionally rare because of their more common use with the most senior officers of the Roman Army, which came from the mass conscription of such weapons.

Soon, an army of perhaps forty thousand manifested. Forty thousand untrained doctors, bankers, cobblers, sellers of apples and plums, many of whom lead civilized lives, who were better with a gentle mouth and a pen than a club or a dagger, and many of whom drunk heavily, or were too poor to, who lived with rude jokes and visited the dark corners of Rome, the mob marched.

From their various homes and habitats the Senators saw. Some joined the revolution as equals amongst the crowd, themselves with the people, whereas others yearned for stability and safety, and cravenly hid. The mob's target was clear. Palatine Hill, the home of the Imperial Palace, was to be all and fully destroyed.

These insurgents hid around the palace for a few hours, and in the cover of darkness once arrangements were made, they advanced.

The alarm bell had run, for the mob had begun its assault.

Around five hundred attacked from six directions. These were those with an amount of combat experience, veterans, street thugs, criminals, and vigiles. In his dark lair, Quintus prayed for the return of Caesar. Then he ascended downwards. Dictators are seen as weak men, but the tyrants of definition, who wrote chapters of history, prove to be the iron nail that refuses to fall. This initial attack was overwhelmed by the strength of the guard, but was only enforced by three hundred men each, compounded artillery of the raining Molotov Polybolos. Quintus then immediately called in the Legio I Custodires, the sole Roman Legion guarding Rome in order to provide further reinforcements to his and Caesar's plighted rule. This may have been a mistake, for it left Rome without much outside support against Lucius, but Quintus assumed Lucius's journey would take time, and so took the gamble, for the enemy within is always stronger than the enemy outside. It only proved too difficult for the arrival of such a legion, for the walls were too thick, and now the outskirts were filled with cynical, unacting offenders. And Gnaeus had prepared for them too, and had many of the wardens of Rome either bribed, or killed and replaced.

As more reinforcements poured in over the hours in a quickening war of resources, yet one that had only lasted so far several hours, Quintus had only one decision to make now. It was nearing dawn, and so Quintus himself appeared himself to command, with the whole of the Inquisition, consisting of an especially organized force of half a thousand Veterans, with a great amount of Psionics, Holy Propane Gunners, Auxilia, and Heavy Auxilia, along with a singular God Engine and a formation of Veteran Legionary Transport vehicles and Mobile Ballistae, he thrust his special forces at the forefront tip of battle.

At this, Coriolus yelled: "Death to the Tyrants!". He was met with a smashing roar, one of great rage, inexorable, that would tear all down in its path. Fire rained down on the entrance of the palace, and suddenly the main host of militia unveiled itself. The great charge began.

And the forces of the Inquisition met them, eye to eye, but by blades outnumbered one to forty, Quintus commanded, softly, with the most imperial tone.

'Let this piece of earth bleed foremost.'

Quintus's forces quickly employed a scattered position. Large pillars were used as temporary shelters. It may have been folly to advance in such an open way, but to be laid siege to was to be exiled, and therefore relinquish hold of the city. It must be this way. He did not understand why Lucius had allied with the enemy, and if he had known of the timeline beforehand, why one would attempt to unify with whom he had been fighting for millennia, but it did not matter now.

Whilst in the scattering, the mob of Gnaeus continued their merciless charge. Torches blazing, knives shining of the dying moonlight, the bestial aspects of Man unleashed themselves in this great rejuvenation. Once the positional distance was lost, the cover of the propane flames and phoulkon formations would cease. Seeing this, and that the mob was united not by the strictness of organized rule, but by passion and vengeance for their betrayed and subdued cultures, Quintus knew he had to do one thing, and one thing only; he had to reintroduce terror to the great crowd.

His artillery, consisting of his Ballistae and singular God Engine, surrendered all aspects of strategic thought, and instead opened fire upon the great crowd. Let the common kin see the effects of their revolution, their blasted heresy, of how they were burning a great state to its knees.

With this act of the destruction of morale, the mob was conflicted, they questioned their morals, their cause, and the meaning of this war that laid waste upon the Second Roman unity. And through this conflict, this fault of morale, came the burden of some, which multiplied to many, a brief fault in spirit.

The singular God Engine drove ahead. To destroy it was to destroy a symbol of Second Roman rule, which had persisted by this point in the few decades. But this moment of hesitation was brought to an end. For they merely looked at Gnaeus, and he commanded, "Charge!", and so, both sides with some blood on their hands, fought on.

But a singular moment was superior enough. For the Tarrasque machine, equivalent to a makeshift tank, with its extensive array of weapons, shred through flesh with its treads alone, and with the Demolisher Cannon, destroyed all within its path. Quintus then organized the surviving remnants of the palace guard, consisting of eight garrisons, each of whom contained the equivalent of a contubernium of veterans, five of each had been slain. By the orders of Quintus, they launched themselves from the feeble gliders and primitive flying machines of Rome. These metal birds of the sky were filled with a great deal of arrows and bullets until they were but balls of smoke, yet the Veterans launched themselves from the sky and dispatched the poorly defended Polybolos, and destroyed them. Such was the case of paratroop warfare, one of the greatest hallmarks of Quintus to his nation.

Yet any attempt on Coriolus was futile, for he, as the former commander of a first cohort, although young, slew all that personally came within his path. But in the end, personal valor is limited. Without the rain of fire, the phoulkon reformed, as well as the lines of flame of the Holy Propane Gunners. Long-ranged fire refused to yield from the Auxilia, and the will of the crowd weakened because of the Mental Exhaustion of the Psionics. And then Coriolus, after having slain the last kill-team of veterans assigned to him, his sword still unclean with blood, saw and looked directly at Quintus, with a scowl, with rage, for it was now the elder tactican's victory.

Yet, to him, it could never end this way. And so he recited, and yelled, across the world and plains, an unearthly yell of rage, and, unbeknownst to him, or perhaps fully intentional his act was, the Legio I Custodires came. Much of the mob now was absorbed in their plight, and so laid down arms, and retreated. But he refused to believe he was lost.

He heard the footsteps surrounding him, the stomping of Caligae, the surroundings, the calls of forgiveness from those around him, the distant firing of the God Engine, the yelling of Quintus, falling of the mob, he saw defeat manifest, and he stared at it directly.

And from there, a demonic force manifested, a Balor struck down and killed a dozen, small shrubs and even the moss underneath stones became Twig Blights, Aberrant Oozes flooded and cut down the telepathic assault of the Psionics, the legion in its surprise was slaughtered by this great host, for this was the second stage of the insurgency, which was the product of the emotion, the despair, which had called, the feelings of being wronged and the absence of justice that came, but these emotions were commonplace.

Quintus, in an act of desperation, ordered the complete retreat of the surviving Custodire legionnaires to Palatine hill. The mob regrouped itself. To be neutral now was to be neutral forever, and the spectating citizens remained. The mob resurfaced.

First amongst the host was Kaylashee, the bringer of the second Enlightenment to Lucius, who ordered the storming of the prison. Yet, to their dismay, Nepos was absent. And so, as the tide churned out the blood of many, the bitter battle continued.