Fight time

Greg saw the rest of the Romans come near. He hoped after this they wouldn't scold Lizzie for being here with him, a Greek. He was pretty sure that some Romans still held a grudge against Greeks, or at least didn't like Greeks as much as their fellow Romans. He tried to get up and fight, but passed out from the acideous gas, his last vision being the Romans coming. He laid on the ground, blood dripping from him from his scathed arms and bloody mouth.

The acid gas had been too much for Lizzie, she stumbled before she reached the target. Lizzie collapsed falling to her knees, her body racked with pain. Her sword slipped from her hand, before she fell onto her right hand side.

Don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart, I just don't think he'd understand. And if you tell my heart, my achy breaky heart, he might just up and kill this man...

Veronica had been designated by one of the attack leaders, a young decanus, as one of the people to retrieve the two victims of the insane robots that kept attacking. She could not be more thrilled. Seriously, why were they bothering? Oh, yes, socially expected. Damnit. Which was why she was dressed in her armor, with her spear, a few blankets, some nectar and unicorn draught.

Don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart, I just don't think he'd understand. And if you tell my heart, my achy breaky heart, he might just up and kill this man...

The daughter of Proserpina stopped short when she took one breath of acidic gas. It burned her lungs. Pain. That was annoying. She didn't want to die, not for these useless schlubs. Couldn't she just leave them? No. Social expectations. Damnit.

Don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart, I just don't think he'd understand. And if you tell my heart, my achy breaky heart, he might just up and kill this man...

Veronica took one of the blankets she had and wrapped herself with it, exposing only the smallest part of her face, pressing it tightly to her nose and mouth. She ran forward bravely. Or recklessly. The girl was closest and still conscious, maybe? Closest to conscious. There was a slight rush of adrenaline, almost enough to make Veronica feel giddy as she grabbed the girl under the arms, holding her breath, and wrapped the blacket around them as she started to pull the girl away.

Don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart....

These robots were starting to become a nuisance. First they show up out of nowhere and destroy part of his barracks, then they completely destroy the Third Cohort Barracks, and then one has the audacity to attack him one on one. Now they are out finding those running around on their own? One thing that anyone could say for certain about Romulus was that he did not take kindly to anyone praying on the weak and helpless. If you were stronger or thought yourself more powerful than someone that was all fine and dandy, but you did not push yourself onto someone you considered weaker than you. If you did, he would personally deal with you. He and fourteen other members of the 1st Cohort had been dispatched to the Field of Mars to deal with one of these situations.

It was a simple search and rescue mission. One that also involved fending off a giant shape changing robot but that of course was…mostly a minor detail. Romulus had levitated control of the situation to the Cohort’s Decanus while he himself was out in the front lines with those rushing out to attempt to rescue the two Demi-Gods. A task that was much harder than it sounded what with the acid gas and spit the thing seemed capable of emitting. There was also the fact that direct use of powers on these things were useless so any use of said powers would of course have to be indirect and very creative. Something that although very good at was not something Romulus plan….and then he got an idea. It was a terrible idea but it was one that he believed should be enough to fool the sensors in the animatronic. Hopefully.

“Romans! Keep on target! Do not disengage until ordered to!” Unsheathing his Veretum, the mist shifted around the group of soldiers and the animatronic. If one was in tune with the mist they might have been able to feel it otherwise there was no sign the mist had been messed with. At least for the legionnaires as hopefully his Cohort was at least prepared for their Optio to mess with the mist. If his prediction had been correct the animatronic’s sensors would now detect not fifteen soldiers each armed with a ballista but hundreds of soldiers each armed with a ballista, firing off the weapon every few seconds. Sure, in reality only the original few who were firing off their weapons were actually doing any damage but that could be accounted for the others simply missing or the robot getting out of the way of the others. Eventually the thing’s sesnors would either adapt or if it was malfunctioning like they believed, cease to function properly. Giving them time to rescue the two lone Demi-Gods and maybe finish the thing off.