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The Eternal Forest

_Chapter I _

2022 by Zorha

Homo, id est animal rationale mortale

Limes Germanicus

41 AD

The fierce sun hung at mid-day, rays beating down on the worn cobblestones of the Danube Way. Optio Reprobus blinked up to the fiery circle in the sky. Sweat beaded his deeply tanned face as he marched on. Staff and Shield weighed heavy in his huge hands. The iron plates of his galea and lorica segmentata gleamed with fresh polish.

Before him, a formation of 500 legionnaires marched down the Via Istrum to the literal ends of the Empire. The chorus of synchronous footsteps and sharp chink of armor plates sliding into each other carried far out here in the open valley. On either side of them, huge European mountains cradled the thin strip of flat earth. Thick and foreboding hardwoods formed an impenetrable dark green canopy up their steep slopes.

Exhaustion wore on his soldiers from their long travel, having embarked from their Navis lusoria once their ships had taken them as far as it could up the narrowing Danubius. Now, as they rounded a bend in the paved road, their final destination came into view before them.

Fort Brigobannis.

They passed fertile fields of Emmer, the golden stalks of grain rippling in the soft breeze of an approaching storm front. Gaulic slaves looked up from their back breaking labor to the dazzling sight of the vanguard marching past them, the sun glinting off the armored scales of their lorica squamata. A young boy traveling down the road with his uncle stopped to point at Reprobus. The old man seemed to have some difficulty pulling his ward off the road, his knees stiff with arthritis.

"Cauaros!" He called out, clutching a small toy carving of a deer to his chest. "Cauaros!" He cried again. But instead of fear, the blue eyes of the boy were filled with awe, as if he had just met another mythic creature. His young vibrancy made the grim face of Reprobus soften.

An hour later the Cornicen of their vanguard blew from a horn, and their entire formation stopped just in front of the heavy oak gates of the stone fort. A few minutes passed before the heavy gates swung out. A tesserarius and his small detachment marched out to meet Reprobus, who in turn made his way down the right flank. The tesserarius, a corpulent man in his early thirties, opened his arms wide to greet the brown skinned brute, nearly 5 cubits tall, at his gates.

"Optio! What news do you carry from the bosom of Rome herself?" Reprobus removed his galea so that the watch commander could not mistake the bleak look on his stone facade.

"None. Emperor God Caligula, like Rome herself, rots from within. These are dark times, Rufinus."

The forged smile from the tesserarius fell. The rumors he had heard of Reprobus had been true after all. He dropped any false pretense of civility and spoke plainly then to the monster standing before him. Had it not been for Centurion Romulus, he would have executed the officer on the spot for his treacherous words.

"What say you then?"

"I bring reinforcements for Legio XIV Gemina. Five hundred men. Enough to bolster your failed watch over Germania Superior."

The breeze rippled the short red and black plume of Reprobus' helmet in the tense silence. The incompetent watch commander fumed for a few moments, then turned back to enter his bastion. A hot mineral bath would do him good, and he wanted to rinse off the taint of this foreigner as soon as possible. He threw a disdainful glance back to the hulking soldier behind him.

"Romulus wants to see you up at the fortalice after you transfer your troops to my command." He left abruptly, detachment following close behind.

Reprobus looked west, up the winding trail leading to the Black Forest. Through a break in its canopy, he saw a small fortification on a ridge. The immediate area around it had been felled; the clear cut a recent wound in the ancient and misty land. The foreboding clouds of an ominous storm blew east, hinting rain. It blotted out the sun and its shadow fell over Reprobus like a foretelling death shroud. He was a stranger in a strange land.

The primeval trees themselves swayed as if alive, ready to pick up arms and repel invaders such as him ...

---

* * * * *

Fat drops of rain stung Reprobus exposed skin. They splattered on the torch he held, the fiery pitch sizzling but never quite going out. He held the torch just behind himself, its small sphere of heat and light barely reached out a few passus at most. Back at Brigobannis they thought him mad for stripping off his armor and leaving his shield behind, just to walk brazenly into the black heart of the great Abnoba Mons.

The Celts said all manner of strange Beasts and Gods roamed this remote and untamed wilderness.

As Reprobus saw it, he was no exception, and feared for naught.

Roman followed the trail west alongside the river Breg up into the edge of the thickest forest Reprobus had ever seen. The unbroken canopy seemed to swallow the sky itself. A cacophony of frog croaks and cricket chirps engulfed him.

The climb up the mountain's side was slow and arduous. Weighed down by his sarcina, the thick soles of his leather boots found little purchase in the slick mud. He fared little better once he made the switchbacks crossing back and forth along the ridge close to the fortification. Once or twice he almost slipped off the narrow paths and down into the sharp crags several actus below.

Just as Reprobus was certain he had lost his way in the dark tangle of roots and rain slicked trucks, he emerged onto a small hill amid the clearing he had spied several hours before.

The small fortification seemed precariously perched on the edge of the ridge, although this also meant it could only be breached in one direction. Strong, sharpened timbers of solid oak, standing 10 pedes tall, comprised the bulk of its outer walls. Inside, a two story tall watchtower stood. Many nicked scars and scorch marks marred its structural timbers; testament to the many raids made against it.

The warm light of a hearth flicked through two open windows on the first story. For the first time in a long time, Reprobus smiled, and continued down the slick path to the fortalice below. Despite the hard rain and calls of the creatures of the night muffling his approach, the gate swung open as the Optio neared.

Where there had been no wind; suddenly a frightening gale. Where there had been no lightning, suddenly bolts seared the stygian sky. Where there had been nothing; a God King emerged.

Romulus materialized from the unexpected tempest, a wicked smile splitting his face. Ropes of muscle and sinew flexed around his divine build. Though not coming to the eye level of his Optio, he still stood a good four cubits tall. Sharp features and piercing stare remained unflinching despite the storm whipping his matted raven black hair about.

Reprobus drove his torch into the ground. He dropped the pole holding his sarcina and the heavy load went splat into the muddy earth. His giant arms embraced his King. His brother in arms. His lover.

Romulus' hands felt their way up and down the sides of Reprobus' head, savoring the hard scruff of his beard as if he would never feel it again. His eyes were wide, fiery, crazed even.

"It's been far too long Brother!" Romulus called out, his booming voice punctuated with the seemingly coincidental cracks of lightning above. "I sent for five hundred men, when I only truly needed one."

His nails lengthened, turning black and clawlike. They raked Reprobus cheeks, leaving small rends in the flesh there. Drops of blood and rain mixed alike to fall into the mire at their hind feet.

The first of many to come.

This only seemed to stroke the other monster to fury; or lust. A feral gleam split Reprobus' lips, his canines lengthening ever so slightly.

"This is not Teutoburg Forest." Romulus panted, breath short with feral need. "Together, we will push back the barbarians at our gates." Their rain slicked bodies flexed hard against each other. "I need you, my old friend."

Reprobus gave his King a simple nod at these words. Romulus' claws cupped his cheeks, shaking. Flashes of lightning lit up his contorting face in strobes, muscles jerking about. A peal of thunder punctuated his next words.

"I need the Butcher of Pydna."

They cupped the back of each other's lengthening skulls, mashing their muzzle lips against each other in primal kiss.

And with that, their hunt began.