Heir of Aurelian

While Marcellus was preparing for a war with Byzantium on the Italian heartland and within the diocese of Illyricum. Primus was busy engaging in a brutal campaign within Britannia. He was currently marching his forces north as they attempted to go beyond Hadrian’s Wall and reclaim territory that had been lost to Rome for centuries. In fact, these men were completely unaware that the Empire was at war with its eastern half.

Primus sat on horseback as he strode through the Caledonian territory. Since they crushed their enemies within the boundaries of Hadrians’ wall, the barbarians had resorted to skirmishing tactics. Raiding Roman encampments at night and striking them in a series of ambushes.

The Roman Legate’s attitude towards the Caledonian people had deteriorated greatly since this war had begun. However, none of that mattered, as he would soon be reaching his goal of reclaiming the ancient Antonine wall.

As the army continued to march forth, a scout dispatched in advance of the main army came rushing back. There was a grim look on his face as he reported what he had seen up ahead to his commanding officer.

“Sir, an army of Caledonians has emerged up ahead. Their numbers are nearly twice our size. They seek to contend with us for control of the region. What are our orders?”

Primus did not even need to think about what his orders were. He quickly gave his command so that all the nearby forces could hear his decree.

“Prepare for battle. If we crush the Caledonians here, they won’t be able to resist the reconstruction of Antonine’s wall. Here we make our final stand!”

The soldiers of the Legate’s army, who had been on the march for nearly sixth months now, were battered and bruised. They had endured enough of this brutal campaign, which saw most of their numbers lost. Thus, when they heard this battle would be their last, they felt a sense of relief as they raised their shields and prepared for the upcoming battle.

The Roman army rapidly assembled into formation as they began to march further north, closer towards the enemy who lie in wait for them. After nearly an hour of a slow march, they arrived to witness the grand scale of the Caledonian army.

Though the enemy were barbarians, with only the noble elite having any semblance of actual body armor. The Caledonians were substantially larger and stronger than the Roman soldiers. It was as if they had marched into the Black Forests of Germania. Naturally, upon seeing so many large men wielding clubs and spears, the morale of the Roman ranks began to falter.

However, they would not easily give up. After everything they had suffered through over the past half year, they refused to drop their weapons and surrender, even against such overwhelming numbers.

Primus was quick to give the command for his archers to unleash their arrows upon the poorly defended Caledonian ranks.

“Knock, draw, loose!”

The arrows shot straight up into the air and fell from the sky like raindrops down upon the enemy. Though the Caledonians had shields, they were not of a uniform shape and size, somewhere as small as bucklers, others were as large as scutum. Because of this, they could not easily form a shieldwall that protected them from the roman missile fire.

The result was a large number of Caledonian men being skewered by arrows and sent to their version of the afterlife before they could even claim a single roman skull for their collection. Under the orders of Primus, the Romans continued to pelt the Caledonian ranks with arrows until the enemy was forced to charge their position. Which did not take long.

Before the third volley was fired, the Caledonians had recklessly charged down the hillside and towards the Roman ranks, who held their shields firmly together to resist the oncoming assault. The first wave of barbarians crashed against the Roman shieldwall, as if trying to use their bodies as battering rams, and yet the Romans had dug their feet in the mud, and entrenched their position, which they mustered all of their strength to push the enemy off of their shields, and pierce their spatha through their guts.

The Caledonians did not stop their charge. With each wave that fell, another took its place. They madly dashed at the Romans who stood their ground and stabbed their blades into the pale guts of the barbarian warriors.

However, after such a relentless onslaught, the enemy’s size and strength soon began to prevail, ad shields were battered away and splintered. Leaving the soldiers behind them without much in terms of defense. These romans were quickly killed where another took their place on the front line.

There was not much in terms of strategy in this battle. The romans formed multiple shieldwalls, and the Caledonians attempted to break through them with brute force. Even Primus was surprised at the sheer stupidity of the barbarians. Then again, perhaps they knew that the Romans’ spirit was weak, and thought that by sending wave after wave of men to their deaths, they could force them to route.

Primus would not let that happen, and quickly gave the order for the center line to fall back. Creating a gap between the center and flanking formations. As if they had performed the strategy a thousand times, the overwhelming numbers of the Caledonian forces slowly but surely fell into the Roman’s trap. Where they were surrounded on all sides, waiting to be slaughtered in a giant pit of death..

Like Hannibal at Cannae, Primus had expertly used the double envelopment, and the Caledonian warriors had been foolish enough to not only walk into it, but to sprint towards their deaths as if a bountiful afterlife was waiting for them. By the time they realized there was no escape, it was already too late.

One by one the pale skinned and blonde-haired Caledonians met their maker, until finally nothing had remained of their army. The battlefield became a sea of death, where the pouring rain washed the blood away. The Romans stood victorious, and had finally reconquered Antonine’s wall. Now all that was left was to rebuild it, better than before.

With a primal shout, Primus declared Rome’s victory, and reclamation of an ancient fortification.

“Victory! We have Victory! Antonine’s wall has once more entered the boundaries of Rome! Glory to the Imperator, and glory to the Empire!”

The Roman soldiers, who had been on a brutal campaign for the past half a year, shouted in excitement as their war had finally come to an end. They intended to hold a position on the boundaries of Antonine’s wall and begin reconstruction efforts so that it could rival its older brother to the south.

Thus, while Marcellus and Constantius were focused on the threat to the east. Primus had won a great victory in the far northern frontiers of the western roman Empire.

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