The sorceror's question was answered when the combined patrol returned to a camp besieged. Legionnaires at the earthworks of the Castra Talara did battle with a veritable horde of Deep Ones. In the distance, Titus spotted both the midnight blue of XIV Legion shields and the purple common to every city militia in the empire, as well as the personal heraldry of the Legate and his honor guard.<br/><br/>'THIS. IS. UNUSUAL, FIRST. CENTURION,' boomed Octavius in his sepulchral basso tones. 'THE CREATURES. HAVE NOT BEEN. SEEN. IN. SUCH. NUMBERS. BEFORE.'<br/><br/>'Agreed, Honored Ancient,' Lucibius muttered. 'But we can think on it later.' He turned to the Legionnaires behind him. 'Legio Mortis,' he yelled, 'We march for Talarum!'<br/><br/>His rallying call was matched by the cries of hundreds of Legionnaires, the combined force of dozens of other patrols scattered throughout the slums. Titus was one of them, echoing the many yells of 'Talarum!' This city was the Legion's. The vast majority of its men were pulled from the thieves, thugs, and gangs of the undercity. The common soldiers of the Damned XIV were, for better or worse, the sons of Talarum, and they would die before they saw this city fall to the beasts of the underworld.<br/><br/>Lucibius unsheathed the Black Sword. 'Legio Mortis, wedge formation! Drive deep and tear out the heart!'<br/><br/>When the First Centurion spoke, the Legion obeyed, and obey it did. Blades and polearms drawn, Lucibius' warband charged with the Honored Dead, and the Legion Champion as the tip of the spear. With a crash of steel, wood, and flesh, the battle was joined and Titus was in the thick of it all, stabbing, punching, and hacking with the rest. Blood for the XIV. Blood for Talarum.