moif

March. 35AD. Pannonia. The Danube frontier.

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One morning, in the early misty hours, several large boats full of men land on the western bank of the river and quickly form into loose ranks of men. Leaving a few sentries to guard their water craft, a hundred or so warriors march inland, heading for Villa Calvus and the nearby village of Particum.

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Four hours later, panic stricken messengers arrive at Castrorum Ultima, telling of murder, rape and destruction. Listening to their garbled tales, Pilus Prior Marcus Tulla frowns in irritation. It has been some long while since the Biephi tribe have caused any trouble on the Roman side of the great river, but recently rumours had spread of the death of old king Magrosj and now it seems a new era has dawned. Turning to Centurion Mesalla, Commander of Centuria II, he raises an eyebrow. Mesalla shrugs "Bandits perhaps?"

"Perhaps" Tulla growls, "but either way, I want them dealt with. Take the cavalry, find and destroy them."

Mesalla is not a man to waste time, nor words. He merely nods, salutes and leaves.

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