The Legion stopped dead in its tracks at the sight of the cavern. Forested terrain and an abundance of spider holes didn't exactly scream 'march right on through'.<br/><br/>'Ambush?' the First Centurion asked.<br/><br/>'Ambush,' chorused the rest of the Legion's officers.<br/><br/>Lucibius nodded and, at the Legate's word, began the task of setting up a temporary camp. Even with something like this, the Empire had trained its forces to prepare for the worst. Line troopers carved out trenches in the surprisingly pliable soil at the forest's outskirts, directed by the tent group leaders and optiones. Skeleton legionnaires and the skirmisher auxilia established a perimeter at the forest's edges, ready to intercept any potential threats that might appear. All of this occurred under the oversight of Lucia Cornelia, thanks to her years of siege experience. Under her leadership, the men and women of the Legion worked like a well-oiled machine, setting up a network of punji pits, pitch-lined trenches, and other traps, as well as a palisade fashioned from the mushrooms' stalks. Within a few hours, a fully-functional outpost had been built. The Legion's shortage of earth mages was keenly felt, however, and many dearly wished they had a few of those around to fashion stone walls. As it was, the men left the cavern walls untouched for fear of compromising its structural integrity. Even the XIV was above a death as ignominious as a simple cave-in.<br/><br/>Titus stood at the walls with the First Centurion as they surveyed the scene. Glowing spores floated lazily in the air, casting the camp in a teal light. A haze shimmered over a few of the holes, indicating potential gas pockets. The Legion had to rely on magelight and blades here. If it came down to a siege, the Ancient's incendiaries would be sorely missed.<br/><br/>Unlike Absolom, Titus had the luxury of working with divine magic. Though it required regular and genuine homage to one's patron deities, it had few negative side-effects as long as one remained in favor. The only problem was power. The arcane sphere of magic was, for the most part,  consistent source of magical might. Arcane practitioners could draw from a steady source of energy and achieve predictable results each time. Followers of the divine had to rely on the power of their own patrons, who were fed by worship. As more faithful knelt at the altar of a particular deity, so too did said deity's might wax. Magic became easier to call on and more efficient to cast. Titus, however, had come from an old family, one that had worshiped what the people now called the Old Faith. It was a dying church, its temple fires kept lit only by a few devoted pilgrims and priests now. Most Imperial citizens worshipped the gods of the tribe from which the current dynasty had been birthed, a wholly separate pantheon from that which Titus' family paid tribute to. He had made peace with this a long time ago, and was content with simply serving as one of the last remaining knights of She Who Sleeps. While Her favor lasted, he would spread Her light wherever he went.<br/><br/>'You know, Optio, this is actually pretty nice country,' said the First Centurion.<br/><br/>'Except for the Deep Ones.'<br/><br/>'True, true. I suppose we'll just have to make it nicer.'<br/><br/>The skirmisher auxilia had scouted ahead, checking the holes and mapping the area. They were supposed to return one hour ago. Strange. Skirmishers were trained to be among the hardest, most disciplined of the Legions. While the XIV's were barely restrained mad dogs, they were still Legion. They should have reported back or at least fired off a flare. The skirmisher auxilia had one set of signal flares for every ten men. Surely an emergency would have forced them to fire one off.<br/><br/>Lucibius noted this as well. 'Titus, take your tent group and check on our auxilia. Move light. Non-formation kit, so leave the tower shields and spears behind. If you don't find anything in three hours, come back and we'll do this the old-fashioned way.'<br/><br/>The paladin nodded and descended the palisade, making his way to the troops under his command. 'Our recon boys have gone missing, folks. Ready up, we're going on a field trip. Skirmishing loadouts, folks. Bucklers, swords, and ranged only. Dump your boards and spears. You too, POG.' Cain wordlessly gathered her own equipment, a tad miffed at the moniker she'd been given.<br/><br/>Titus turned to the Legion sorcerors' tents, motioning for Absolom. 'No need for your services yet, Sister. Just our unfleshed friend over there.'<br/><br/>He didn't wait for a response. Drawing his blade, Titus led the second venture out into the grove, all too aware of the unnerving silence beyond the safety of the wall.