My Story:the attack

[master of the puppets]

The cruelty of war they talked about, those prisioner in there strange tounges. the encroaching walls of men the thrill of a cavalry charge and the roar of battle. oh i grew up in the majestic city of messela it used to glow white with marble under the sicilian sun. as a boy i would run down the main road past the stalls bearing food and treasures. yelling and chasing my friends around the street waving our wooden gladius's. marcus my longtime friend whose family had always been in good fortune had a goat borne chariot he woulsd ride around the square yelling. on the third day after our lessons from the old greek teacher we would atempt to escape our chores to go to the legionair barracks. they would throw there pilums and fight among themselves waving there gladius's in ways we could not imitate, fighting hand on hand or with only there shields. many of my friends went to the stadium to watch the gladiators but they were mere criminals condemned to die with no honor or duty to rome the legions fight like men.

... in retrospect that kinda sucks i wish in could take it all back mabey i'll give it another shot some other time...