<i>It appeared that the Legates words had managed to stir the fires of rage in at least one of the intruders, and that was all he needed. Marcus knew the other two would follow their comrade, so he needed to kill the slave running at him quickly. The warrior had both strength and passion, but he lacked training. This was evident in how he chose to attack with both of his swords, raised above his head. This was a fatal mistake when charging a legionnaire, for now the Legate had the perfect target for his short sword. Before the man’s swords even came down, Marcus’s gladius had pierced his heart. The man stood there for a moment, before dropping his swords and falling onto his back as the Roman pulled his short sword from his chest. Blood spilled from the wound, yet it didn’t effect Marcus as he prepared for the other two warriors charging him. The woman wielded two daggers while the other man had a sword and shield. The man was going to be more difficult to hit due to his shield, but the woman would be much faster and could easily get around him. So, the commander decided to go on the offensive, waiting until they got closer before throwing his shield toward the woman and charging the man. Though it appeared a suicidal move to charge a man with a shield, Marcus knew how to deal with a foe such as this. The shield did cover the upper half of the man’s body, yes, but not his feet and ankles. Quickly, the commander went from running to sliding on the ground, his foot impacting the man’s ankle, which put him off guard long enough for the commanders gladius to be driven through the man’s leg.<br/>
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But it seemed the man was strong then he first appeared, as he was able to slash the commanders back with his own sword before falling to the ground, screaming in pain. While the armor had taken most of  the blow, the blade did make it through to leave a long wound on the commanders back. Gritting his teeth, Marcus picked up the man’s shield and sword, standing up with a slight slouch as he prepared to face the woman, last of those their to kill him. “Come on, I kill you all like the sc-“ He was cut off when he was thrown off his feet, the man the legate has assumed out of the battle had gathered the strength to swipe the Romans feet, causing him to fall backwards, falling to the ground, shocked and in pain. Before he could even react, the man had had a gladius to the commanders chest, forcing him to sit still. He was beaten, though it wouldn’t be for long. “Well, end it then. It matters little, my men are coming. You lost so many to kill one man who’s death won’t stop Rome. More legions will come.” <br/>
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He continued to taunt, hoping it would distract the intruders long enough for either the cavalry  or legionnaires to arrive and capture them. He would take one of them alive, he did need to learn the location of the slave stronghold if Rome was to crush the uprising. If he needed to suffer for a few moments at the hands of inexperience slaves, then so be it. So close to death and he didn’t show fear, for he knew it was the greatest honor to die for Rome. Yet he wasn’t afraid that he would be slain, no, for he had slain one of their own, and there was little time for them to make Marcus suffer. Perhaps they planned to take him? They weren’t going to get far if the man who the legate had just crippled intended to come with them. So, the Roman Commander had nothing to fear, for there was no way our for his attackers, well, unless the woman intended to take only him and run. </i>