Quintus Libo's Journal, December 14, 251

It is cold day. It seems that the winter never ends here on the Frontier, and I'd give my own horse's life to be in Afrika or Palma... somewhere where I hear the heat is relentless. The consul has ordered that I lead my legions against an Iberian army in the dead of night, the first of many strokes against this awesome power that has shadowed Rome from the west and north for decades. Now I must change that.



I order my slingers to engage the Iberian front, a long line of untested warbands, no match for my legions. They take the rain of pebbles without moving, refusing to come off of the hill the cling to like they no doubt cling to their mothers.



My Roman, Italian, and Gaullic infantry hold the charging Iberians, though some of thier infantry tries to flank my line. I order my son in law to charge them directly, and they break immediatly after. This leaves the entire rear of the Iberian force open to my cavalry, since they have no cavalry of their own. I take care of their slingers w/my bodyguard while the rest of the Gaullic Cavalry smashes the rear of the infantry, causing them to turn and run en mass.



The battle is soon over. Not even one hundred of my men are dead, though over a 12 hundred of the Iberians are. Now Iberian-Occupied Germania lies open to my army, Viberi is just down the road, and accross the Rhine... the unprotected lands of Iberian-Gaul.