Not a Monroe Chapter.

I was cleaning up my PC, when I found the write-up for a campaign I'd run years ago.  It's a part of the world setting I created to GM/DM for my players.  It's a neat bit of lore, and I think it showcases the differences between my writing eleven years ago, and my writing today.  

Apria – A brief History.

The nation of Apria occupies the southern half of the island of Triaga, which In turn, is situated in the Barren Sea, nearest to the continent of Norinda, across a twelve hundred-mile stretch of water. The island itself is somewhat hourglass-shaped, with the narrowest point being a mere three hundred and twenty miles across. Being a natural chokepoint, it is perhaps unsurprising that the nation of Apria claims this as its northern border and identifies all the lands in the southern half of the island as being subject to the Republic.

The island of Triaga is temperate in climate, as it is situated near to the great southern current, which carries the sun's warmth from the equator up to northern climates, which would otherwise be somewhat less hospitable to life. As it stands, the island enjoys warm summers, rainy springs and falls, and cold but not overly harsh winters. Despite its volcanic origins, the island has been settled by the various races of Elsewhere for the entirety of living memory. The story of Apria begins approximately two thousand years ago.

Apria began as a single city, located approximately three hundred miles south of its current north border (near to the girdle, as the region is called), and equidistant from both the eastern and western coast. As best can be determined from the ancient records, the city was ruled by a King, a petty tyrant of sorts, whose draconian policies and brutal oppression caused the people to rise up. The citizenry slaughtered the King, his family, and all those who were official members of the despised government. After washing the blood off their hands, the citizens were faced with a dilemma – they had destroyed the government to the last man, and after being part of, or at least witness to, the massacre, it seemed that no one was particularly interested in taking up the mantle of the King. Several of the leaders of the rebellion were reportedly approached, but each stated that they feared that with that kind of absolute authority, they would one day become that which they had fought so hard to overcome. It was at this point that a humble priest, Marcus Severus, stepped forward, and with a simple letter, changed the course of history.

Gentle Sirs,

It is with great trepidation that I humbly submit this suggestion to you. Our people are currently without leadership, and as they turned to you during their greatest hour of need to lead them from the darkness of oppression, they now turn to you again to lead them from the dawn of freedom into the midday sun of enlightened civilization.

Your reluctance to take upon yourselves the mantle of leadership is noble and speaks for your character. However, I fear that should you continue to refuse to take charge of our people's destiny, that we will surely be lost and slide into darkness, deeper than we were before.

So, I call upon each of you to step forward and be joined as a council of leaders, selected by the people to serve their needs. With each of you safeguarding the others from corruption, our people will finally have the leadership they require.

Humbly yours,

Marcus Atonious Severus

The seven leaders of the rebellion met together, with the copies of Severus’s letter in hand. They agreed that Severus was correct and that it was the only way to keep the people of Apria safe. Further, they amended his proposal to include that for each member of the council, a member of the clergy would also be included to ensure that divine guidance would be provided by men of piety. The leaders would be called Senators, and the Priests would be known as Senacians, and as a whole, they would be known as the Senate.

And so, the Republic of Apria was born. Guided by the hands of the Senators and tempered by the wisdom of the High Priests of the seven Gods of Light, the city grew and prospered. The Republic, over the course of two hundred years, evolved into a highly organized society, where intelligence and innovation were prized and rewarded. One particularly noteworthy mind was Rufus Antillus Scirio, who developed the idea of irrigation and terracing into a standard practice, and whose work on the theory of crop rotation was the basis for the continued harvests that allowed the Republic to become the economic center of the island. Apria grew slowly and southerly. To the north were dense forests, with less than hospitable residents, whereas to the south were the rolling grasslands and the rich delta of the great Karce river.

In the space of just a few hundred years, the Republic had expanded to influence the entire southern half of the island. Their rapid and successful expansion can be attributed to two factors. The first is their prosperity. It was not unheard of for a small group of villages or towns to request annexation after their first contact with the merchant explorers of Apria. It has long been a truth of the human condition that when men are shown another man who has wealth, power, and prosperity, that they envy him these things and covet them. When this wealthy, powerful, and prosperous man offers you a chance at the same wealth, power and prosperity… well, suffice to say that Apria expanded peacefully. The second factor that encouraged the rest of the human population to join the Republic was the assault from the north by the Demon Hordes.

Those who inhabit the north half of the islands are demons, of that there is no doubt. Originally men, they have been twisted by dark powers and have become blended with the spirits of savage beasts. Prior to the first invasion, they had been spotted only sporadically, as the Republic had no interest in trade with demons but was willing to allow them to live, undisturbed by humanity. Sadly, the early Senators and Senacians were ill-equipped to understand the true nature of evil and failed to grasp that the Demon Hordes could never leave humanity in peace. They swept down from the north like a plague, laying waste to everything in their path. Rape, murder, pillage, torture, wholesale wanton slaughter, none of these ideas can truly illustrate the nightmare of the Demon Horde as they committed without thought atrocities for which men have no names. They swept south in an enormous wave, sweeping away everything they touched with the sole exception of the city of Apria itself.

The Senate, upon its founding, had determined that in order to ensure that never again should the rule of the government oppose the will of the people, that all of its citizens would serve in its standing army. Every Aprian man, upon reaching their 12th mid-summer, moved to the local Temple and there spent the next two years in service to the church, learning letters, numbers, history, and the law of the Republic. After those two years, they began the required five-year service in the Aprian legion. This was only possible due to the advanced agricultural techniques practiced by the Republic, and the result was the greatest fighting force to ever join the field of battle.

No mere conscripts, each Legionnaire was equipped with iron breastplate, shield, and gladius, and moreover were well trained in their use. Legionnaires lived, trained, and fought together for years, all with the same tactics. This allowed a legionnaire from different command to be inserted into the front lines of battle and fight as effectively as if he was with his own unit. In addition to their training, Aprian legionnaires have always been known for their outstanding valor. These men do not fight for coin, nor out of allegiance to some petty king or lord. Rather they fight for their nation, for their land, for their families, and for their way of life.

Apria's Legions had never been seen in battle. So, when the cresting wave of the Demon Horde came face to face with the Aprian Legion, the Demons were ill-prepared for what awaited them. Tales are still told of that battle – of how the demons came loping across the field, huge and terrible, with features of wolves, bears, and great cats all twisted with the unholy infusion of tortured humanity. Heedless of the Aprian Legion, which stood before the city, its ranks bolstered by citizens who had served their time in the Legion years before but had taken up their arms and armor to defend their homes, the Demon Horde thundered forward, fully expecting to wash over the Legion. The Demons were to be faced with an abrupt surprise.

The first wave, for they had no organization of ranks or files, crashed upon the waiting Aprian legion with an indescribable force. The sheer mass of the assault pushed the entire Legion backward a full two yards. The sound of claw and teeth meeting the steel of the shields of the Legion was akin to the striking of a thousand bells, all of different tones. With a shout of “Apria!” the legionnaires, as one man, struck forward, forcing the first wave of Demons backward, their short but deadly swords striking in perfect harmony, spilling the black, acrid Demon blood onto the ground. Each man in the Legion fell into their training, parrying and striking as one, each man covering his fellows and trusting his fellows in turn to cover him. Legionnaires fell to the claws and teeth of the Demons, but for each Legionnaire that fell, the rest of the Legion advanced another step, driving deeper into the sea of Demons and giving Medicus the opportunity to retrieve and treat the fallen. Demons screamed and howled as they died, and their wave faltered. The Demons, seeing their fellows fall, turned and attempted to flee the field, but they were crushed back towards the Legion by the sheer momentum of the Demon Hordes advanced. And the Legion's sharp and ready blades awaited them. The Legion pushed further into the Demon Horde, never retreating, knowing that each step forward they took was another step the Demons had to take towards their homes. Battles are fought on the bloodied grass, the frozen hills, the dark forest. But battles are won in the minds of those who struggle on that awful field. At that moment, as the Legion of Apria pressed forward, step by step, despite the murderous cost to their ranks, the Aprian's, even knowing they were outnumbered and faced with the minions of hell itself, knew they could win. The Demons weren’t quite as certain. Never before had they faced humans who didn’t break and flee at the sight of the Horde. Never before had they experienced such organized and effective resistance. Never before had they suffered losses of such magnitude. In their hearts, each Demon is a coward. They exist only to inflict the pain and suffering of their own existence onto mankind. They are unable to comprehend the ideas of Loyalty, Bravery, Honor, and Sacrifice. And because of this, on the Aprian field, the Demon Horde broke and ran. The Aprian legion, battered, and with the knowledge that of their numbers, one man in five was injured or dead, did not pursue.

Such is the tale of the Aprian Legion. Never doubt that every Legionnaire you meet is a hero, for within them flows the blood of such men. Sadly the settled lands to the south and those outlying of Apria proper were ravaged by the Horde, as many demons had come south, and only a part of them met the Legion of Apria on the field of battle.

The lands to the south had been devastated by the Demon Horde, with one in perhaps ten surviving. Word of Apria’s survival spread from refugee to refugee until nearly the entire remaining human populace arrived at the city of Apria, seeking sanctuary. The Senate met, and after days of discussion, reached the determination that while they could provide food and aid to the refugees, the city of Apria was ill-equipped to handle the mass of humanity that had washed up on its gates. Fourteen men, seven senators, and seven senacians gathered atop the southern gate of Apria and addressed the refugees. They told them the truth, that they couldn’t offer them sanctuary but that they could offer them aid and more. Maximus Aurelius Severus stepped forward and spoke these words: “Each of you has suffered loss; none of you are without pain. As your fellow man, I grieve with you and mourn those lost. To ensure this will never happen again, we have begun to plan a wall, stretching the length of the entire girdle, to be manned at all times by the same Hero’s who saved Apria from certain destruction – The Legion itself!” At this point, the crowd roared in approval, as tales of the Aprian legion had grown with the retelling as each refugee who spread the word of Apria’s survival sought to embellish the tale. Maximus raised his hand, commanding silence. “The wall will take years to complete, indeed, so long that I may not see its finish. However, while the wall is raised, the Legion will be stationed along the border to ensure the Demon Horde does not catch us unaware. We will help you resettle your homes, and we will aid you while you rebuild. And finally, we will protect you from the Demon Horde. There is, however, a price. All those who desire our protection and our aid must become part of the Republic. Further, each young man between his twelfth and sixteenth year must report to our Temple for training – for while the Legion is mighty, we do not have the numbers we need to protect you all. So, instead, we shall take you into the Republic and train you to defend yourselves and your neighbors at our side!”

There are a few other footnotes necessary – the Senate agreed to expand itself to include new senators and senacians from those cities who had before and would, after being rebuilt, claim dominion over significant territory. After meeting with the leadership of the refugees, it was determined that there were six such cities. The southernmost of these, a port city named Ceres, identified a potential threat in the form of a non-human race that dwelt in the forest on the eastern edge of its claimed lands. The Senate, alarmed at the notion of a possible threat to the south, and a non-human one at that, immediately began planning an expedition to identify the nature of the threat.

The next half-century went peacefully for the fledgling Republic. Utilizing the Aprian agricultural techniques, the cities of Ceres, Varius, Gustius, Biura, Teari, and Nuliu were rebuilt in short order, as the Aprian methods allowed for far fewer people to raise far more food. True to their word, the Senate stationed Legion cohorts along the planned wall, enough men to withstand moderate assaults, and more importantly, fast riders to bring word of an attack, that the full might of the Legion could be brought to bear. It was in the fifty-second year after the first Demon Horde that a Legion Cohort was sent south from Apria to Ceres to identify the nature of the threat that lurked in the forests to the east. The reports from Ceres had been sketchy at best and most often referred to “forest spirits” who harassed the timber harvesting teams that worked the edges of the woods, cutting the trees needed for their ships. The Cohort arrived at the northern edge of the forest, called by the locals the Primus Arbor, or “First Wood,” and began to methodically work their way into its depths. Per the recollections of the commanding officer, they made contact with the enemy four days into the wood. As the Cohort was marching through a clearing, they came under attack by means of a hail of arrows. Quickly falling into formation, the Cohort arranged themselves in a phalanx, covering themselves and the wounded with their shields from the flights of arrows. The Medicus quickly brought the wounded back on their feet, and the Cohort began advancing towards the south, where the greatest concentration of arrows seemed to be coming from. As the Cohort reached the edge of the clearing, the hail of arrows ceased as the “Forest Spirits” retreated. Initially, the Cohorts commander was unable to track the attackers until a particularly sharp-eyed Legionnaire pointed out that there were broken branches in the trees above them, indicating that who, or what, ever had attacked them, had fled from treetop to treetop. As the Cohort settled into a determined march, heading south whenever they were unable to see a trail, they began to endure a steady stream of small attacks. A single Legionnaire would be targeted with multiple arrows, then the attackers would vanish through the trees. Each time the Captain would call out, entreating the attackers to parlay. And each time, they would retreat, only to strike again. The Medicus were kept busy as the Cohort suffered attack after attack, and in turn, as each Legionnaire was struck by the enemy, the disposition of the Cohort soured. For six days, the Cohort marched ever deeper into the forest as the legionnaires grew more and more determined to chase their quarry to the ground and see an end to the attacks. On the sixth day, they were attacked with ferocity, and for once, the enemy did not retreat. Shields locked, the Cohort accepted the brutal rain of arrows as they methodically moved forward. They spotted an enormous oak tree, a full thirty feet across, with what appeared to be some sort of structure in its upper limbs. Quickly surrounding it, with shields upraised, the legionnaires set to cutting down the bizarre fortification. In short order, the shining blades of the Cohort had removed a deep wedge from the side of the massive tree, and with a heave of effort, the legionnaires began toppling the mighty giant. Cries of dismay from the enemy above rung through the forest as the enormous tree shuddered and then slowly fell towards the earth. Tiny figures fell from the top, leaping desperately to avoid being crushed by the weight of the tree. The Cohort, finally having an enemy it could contend with, charged forward. A dozen of the enemy fell to their deaths, and just over forty survived the fall. Of those forty, only five survived the initial advance and those by virtue of being unconscious or wounded by the fall. The Medicos waited until they were bound, then treated their wounds. As they did so, the Captain observed them clearly, for the first time.

Their tormentors were slender, with alien features, canted eyes and lobeless upswept ears. They were humanoid, but clearly not human. They wore simple leather clothing and carried wooden bows and stone daggers. They displayed none of the animalistic features typically seen in the corpses of the Demon Horde, so the Captain didn’t order their throats slit immediately. Instead, the Captain ordered them to be bound hand and foot and carried with the Cohort. The Cohort departed the forest unmolested, carrying their prisoners with them. Upon reaching Ceres, the prisoners were turned over to the church, and their interrogation began. The information gained was viewed with great concern. Apparently, the creatures, who called themselves “Elves,” had a large, primitive society in the heart of the forest. The elves claimed that the forest was their domain and theirs alone, and despite repeated attempts to establish some form of diplomatic relations with the Elves, the attacks on foresters continued until finally, the Senate determined that the only way to coexist with them would be to pacify them. So, the elves, who were unwilling to make peace, were captured and enslaved. There are no great tales of glorious battles or heroic deeds. The simple truth is that the Elves surrendered when they faced the massed might of two Aprian Legions. Now, elven slaves are a permanent fixture in the Republic, although the restrictions placed upon them have been eased over the centuries, as some have truly joined Apria, spending their time in the Legion.

The Senate has decreed that any Elf that wishes to become an Aprian citizen may do so, however there seems to be something in their nature that prevents them from embracing civilization.

With the six cities rebuilt and the population recovering, the Republic turned its attention towards the great wall. There were several minor incidents along the border posts, as the Demons pushed sporadically south, but no major invasion attempts and no Demon Hordes. In point of fact, the Demon Horde didn’t rise again for another eight hundred years.

The wall had been finished for over six hundred years, and these years had seen generations of young Legionnaires patrolling its length, and indeed, it had become a tradition for the descendants of the first who stood their watch to serve in the same cohorts. The Aprian republic had grown to fourteen legions, with each city having two, one always at the wall, and another at home, training and preparing for their duty. So it was that the second Demon Horde came down from the northern wilds and ran headlong into the wall and the Legions of Apria.

The wall separating Apria from the Demons is still regarded as one of the most impressive constructions of the Republic. Even the great Bascilla in Apria itself takes second place in comparison to the manpower, materials, and time spent in constructing the wall. Thirty feet high, ten feet wide at its apex, and three hundred and twenty miles in length, it stands in mute testament to the dedication and willpower of the Aprian Republic. Constructed of grey granite, each block is fitted and grooved to provide a solid, uniform construction. Such was the barrier faced by the Demon Hordes when they once again sought to bring their hate, pain, and suffering to the Republic. As the Horde charged the wall, they were met by the Legions of Apria, with bright steel in their hands and courage in their hearts. That day is marked in history as the first time the Demon Hordes were repulsed from the southern half of the island entirely. A full seven legions meet the Demon Horde, thirty-five thousand Aprian Legionnaires against over a hundred thousand Demons. The other seven legions were called up to reinforce the wall, and every Legionnaire saw battle that day. What began as a desperate battle of discipline against overwhelming odds gradually shifted to a solid, hardened defense, as resolute as the granite upon which the Legions stood. By the time the reinforcing legions arrived, the legions manning the walls had taken brutal losses, with a mortality rate of twenty percent, and only the incredible work of the Medicus kept the wall manned. With the seven reserve legions, the battle was turned, and the Demon Horde once again tasted the bitter draught of defeat. When the battle was done, and the dead were numbered, one hundred and fourteen thousand Demons, and just under fifteen thousand Legionnaires. Roughly one Legionnaire had fallen for every ten demons. Despite their size, despite their fury, and despite their unholy powers, the Legions had proven the worth of the wall and of themselves. As for the wall itself, the tight-fitting granite blocks, with their grooved construction, had been drenched in the acrid black blood of the demons and the bright red blood of the legionnaires. The outer wall, facing the demons, had been stained a nearly uniform black, while the top had been stained a rust-red. What had once merely been called "the wall" was reborn that day as "The Blood Wall."

Apria mourned her dead but rejoiced at the strength, courage, and honor of her Legions. And life in the Republic moved on, as sons replaced fathers in the Legions. Apria continued to grow and prosper, and the Senate determined that the Second Demon Horde had been stopped by too thin a margin and decided to add a third legion to each of the cities, that the wall could be more solidly manned. It was during the second century after the Second Demon Horde that Apria had its second encounter with a non-human race.

Aprians from the city of Gustius had long mined the mountains to the south of their city, and in fact, a significant portion of the metals needed by the Republic came from their foundries. It was the work of a plebian's daughter, Gaele Estarus Scipius, that allowed the miners to dig ever deeper. Gaele had visited Ceres as a youth and had always been fascinated with the divers, who leaped off boats, wearing only a loincloth, weighted belt, dagger, and a cloth hose between their teeth. She had asked and learned that they could reach the bottom of the sea and harvest the bounty of the ocean while breathing through the cloth tube. She had kept that memory with her, and after her period of service, she returned home and, after years of trial and error, managed to create a system of devices that would deliver air to the depths of a mine, allowing the miners to delve deeper than ever before. It was several years into the device's use when Aprians, following a vein of iron, encountered a group of individuals doing exactly the same. The scene was undocumented; however, it isn’t difficult to imagine the astonished looks on both parties' dust-covered faces as each realized that they had mined right into each other. The creatures the miners discovered were short, stocky, and powerfully built, with broad features, bulbous noses, and incredibly long beards. Neither side reached for a weapon but instead drew out a wineskin and a flask, and without any common tongue, sat down together for a drink. With what can only be called commendable bravery, one of the creatures accompanied the miners back to the surface and was taken to the Temple, where a priestess of Eros was able to communicate with it. The mining creatures were called Dwarves in their own tongue and were eager to set up peaceful trading relations with the Republic. The dwarven people are an open, forthright race whose honor and courage would do a legionnaire proud. Unlike the elves, who were hopelessly primitive and violent, the dwarves are an enlightened people with a long and prosperous history. The dwarven empire spanned the entire southern reach of the white-capped mountains, and their current monarchy had ruled with a fair and even hand for the better part of eight thousand years.

The first dwarf to apply for citizenship in the Republic was Dorogin Deepdelve. He had come to the surface with a regular trading group and had approached the Temple, asking what would need to be done for him to become a citizen of the Republic. The priestess in charge of the Temple was surprised at his request but offered to take him to Apria proper and put it before the Senate. That session of the Senate has been recorded and is available for any who wish to peruse it. The final outcome is that the senators and senacians could find no fault in Dorogin Deepdelve’s character, nor could they fault his desire to become part of the Republic. Dorogin was, in fact, a lesser member of a noble house in the dwarven kingdom, and as such, brought with him a substantial amount of wealth. After spending his mandatory two years at the Temple, and five years in the Legion (it had been decided that the best way to naturalize a new member of the Republic was to treat them as a young adult and ensure they were educated and trained as anyone else would be), he established a trading post at the entrance to the mine that had become the main conduit of goods between the Republic and the dwarves. Having set a precedent with his naturalization, he gathered a number of other dwarves with like minds, and within a century, there were several hundred dwarven citizens, most living at what was called The Deep Gate. Dorogin was quick to enlarge the passage between his former home and his new Republic, and soon trade flowed between the Republic and the dwarven empire like never before. Rare gems, precious metal, and fine steel came out of The Deep Gate, and fine cloth, exquisite foods, and bulk grain went in.  Dorogin brought more than just expanded trade and new citizens. He brought with him the knowledge of Arcane Magic.

It had been just over a century when Dorogin, satisfied with the progress he had made at The Deep Gate, approached the Senate and requested a private audience. The Senate, after considering the request, determined that Dorogin had indeed proved his worth to the Republic and granted his request. What Dorogin had to tell them shocked the Senate. There was another kind of magic besides that known to the temples. It was called Arcane by the dwarves and required wit and will rather than faith. He explained that he had wanted to bring this before the Senate privately, so should they choose to not embrace it, there would be no knowledge of it spread beyond the halls of the Senate. The Senate was evenly split on the matter, as the senators were inclined towards anything that might benefit the Republic, but the senacians were wary of any new magical powers that might disrupt the powers of the church. The debate raged for days until finally, the senators asked Dorogin to demonstrate this new magic, that they might determine the extent to which it might disrupt the Republic should it become commonplace. Dorogin agreed and proceeded to show the assembled Senate the spells he knew, which mainly tended towards transmutation and dimension. He further explained the schools of illusion, summoning, and conjuration, although he had no skill in them himself. The Senate, after another few days of debate, came to the conclusion that such magic existed, and therefore to disallow it would be to allow it to be used against the Republic and leave them without recourse to counter it. So the Collegium was born, a place where those who wished to study the arcane arts could do so. Located in Apria proper, several of Apria's greatest minds were quick to see the advantages this new field offered them, and within a few short years, attendance at the Collegium was allowed to supplant the final six months of temple study, should the citizen have the necessary aptitude.

There is but one final note in regards to the dwarven contribution to the Republic. Two centuries after the founding of the Collegium, which is to say just over three centuries after the naturalization of Dorogin Deepdelve, the first conflict arose between the dwarven citizens of the Republic and the Republic itself. It began when a number of the dwarves serving their time in the Legion were noted to have several unusual habits. The most distressing was the discovery that while the dwarves seemed to have no problem praying to the gods of light, and indeed some of them were excellent Medicus, but that the legionnaires, to a dwarf, all spent time in devotion to another god entirely. The matter was brought before the Temple for consideration, and the Temple, in turn, turned the issue over to the Senate. The god worshiped by the dwarven legionnaires was named Maelstrom, and according to dwarven cannon, he was the god of battle. The senacians consulted their respective patron deities, and determined the god of battles was a neutral god and that his prevue was indeed strictly battle. The senacians and the senators, after careful consideration, determined that Maelstrom was no threat to their ideals, and indeed, that the worship of the god of battle was only logical for the dwarven legionnaires. Of course, like any other innovation, when the benefits are seen, people are quick to adapt. Soon, worship of Maelstrom was commonplace amongst the Legion.

It was during the fourteen hundredth year of the Republic that the dark forest to the north stirred again and spewed forth its vileness towards the Aprain Republic once more. Though the Legions stood proud and ready to meet the threat, they were unprepared for the Third Demon Horde. After the crushing defeat of The Second Demon Horde, the evil that crafted the Demons had not lain idle. New horrors rushed the blood walls, abominations beyond even the hideous and twisted half breeds that had been the nightmares of the First and Second Demon Hordes. The air was filled with bat-winged horrors, enormous creatures whose faces were tiny in comparison to their bulk but, nonetheless, twisted with pain and hate. The bat creatures carried on their backs perhaps a dozen demons each, but smaller than what had been seen before, more akin to the size of a man. These bore the features and attributes of rats, moles, and other vermin, with rope-thick tails and beady red eyes set in a human face twisted with evil and rage. These demons leaped down to the ground and began attacking the legions auxiliaries. Young women, much like young men, also served in the legions, but not as combatants. Rather they served as cooks, wash women, and general keepers of the camp. The proximity of so many young men and women virtually guaranteed that attachments would form, and while legionnaires were forbidden to marry during their service, many relationships blossomed, and most legionnaires had a “wife” before their term ended, which was another of the primary purposes of the Legion, albeit unofficially. As the auxiliaries were being attacked, a new horror reached the wall. Great lumbering hulks, each twice the size of a demon from the First and Second Hordes, with strange reptilian features and slick, slimy scales covering their bodies, charged the walls, seeking to batter them down and create a breach.

The Blood Wall stood as the scaled monsters of the Third Demon Horde battered themselves to death against its obdurate granite. The great creatures served another purpose; however, as their corpses rested against the Blood Wall, the remainder of the Demon Horde was able to use them to mount the wall and so carry the fight into the teeth of the Legion. The assault was a brutal shock to the Legions, who hadn’t expected to be fighting on the walls so quickly, nor did they expect enemies behind the shield wall. Quickly appraising the situation, the First Spear of each Legion sent one man in five to aid the auxiliaries while the remaining legions held the line. The auxiliaries took heavy losses during the first few minutes of the assault as women ran screaming from the demons that had descended from the sky to slaughter them. Tents overturned and caught fire, women screamed as they were assaulted by the vile vermin aspected Demons, and chaos engulfed the camp. Through the madness rang a clarion call, and heads turned towards the sound. A woman, dressed in an ill-fitting breastplate, carrying a worn shield and gladius, stood in front of the smithy and fought against a rat Demon. With each parry and thrust, she called out, “To me!! Rally to me!!”. The women of the auxiliaries ran towards the sound of order, and those who arrived quickly took up arms and turned to the Demons.

The stories of that battle are every bit as heroic as those of the trained legionnaires who stood upon the wall. Women, with no training in weapons, took up arms in defense of their lives and the lives of their families, friends, and for many, husbands. The vermin Demons, expecting only easy prey, were daunted as the women, though unfamiliar in their use, took up the arms and formed into the cohorts they had seen so many times in the past. Led by the first to take up arms, they advanced against the Horde, catching them in a trap between the women and the group of Legionnaires who had been dispatched to aid them. Women and men cried out as one as they slashed and parried those foul vermin who had been sent to attack with cowardice those who were noncombatants. Meanwhile, the battle on the Blood Wall raged on, as each side fought without quarter or mercy. Legionnaires fell, and the line compacted in as Legionnaire sought to cover the man next to him. It seemed the Demon Horde was endless as they streamed up to the wall, using their fallen as a ramp to reach the top. The battle stretched on as seconds turned to minutes, and minutes in turn became hours. The legionnaires began to take heavier losses as the men simply became too weary to react quickly enough to parry the blows of the Demons. It seemed the Horde had no limit to its numbers as wave after wave of evil crashed against the bright shields of the Aprian Legion. The legionnaires who had been sent to rescue the auxiliaries joined in the battle, as did the women who had taken up arms. Still, the Demons came, and still, the losses of the Legion mounted. Stubbornly the Legions held the wall, knowing that should they fall, Apria would be open to the Demon Horde.

Riders had been dispatched as soon as the Horde had been sighted, and as the Captain of the Legions, Cassius Balus, stood over a sand battle board, with a clump of casualty reports clenched in his fist, a rider, galloping at full speed reined in at the command tent. Snapping a hurried salute, the rider approached the Captain and whispered in his ear. Cassius looked up sharply, his expression of grim determination becoming one of hope, and grabbing his helmet, he quickly strode through the shambles of the camp to the base of the Blood Wall. There, he turned and looked up to the sky with a hint of a smile on his face. Wounded legionnaires and women, and those resting, saw the Captain, and looked up as well, not knowing what to expect. Soon, there became visible in the distance what looked like tiles, flying towards the Blood Wall. Minutes passed, and soon, up and down the Blood Wall, legionnaires convalescing were whispering to each other. The flying squares became closer, and as they neared, the legionnaires were able to make out tiny figures, seeming to somehow be supporting what appeared to be platforms. Soon the legionnaires could make see that each was a platform, perhaps a twelve foot by twelve foot square. Each platform was supported by sixteen men, all wearing the blue and white of the Collegium. As the platforms drew near, they stopped, and after a brief moment, the Demon Horde erupted in holy fire. One of the platform bearers flew down to the Captain, and saluted him. “Pardon, Captain, but the clergy have asked you to join them above." Cassius, still in shock from the rain of holy fire that had whipped down from overhead, nodded and was surprised when the collegiate grasped his shoulder, and they began to rapidly ascend heaven ward towards a smaller platform that was positioned somewhat back and above the others. The collegiate brought him to stand with four priests and then departed back to his position. The priest turned as one to greet the Captain, who was somewhat nervous in regards to being at such a high elevation, with nothing beneath his feet but wood, canvas and the will of a few men. “Captain,” said one of the priests, “I apologize for launching our assault before consulting with you, but your position appeared to be precarious, and we were loathed to see any more Aprian lives spent, least of all in the name of formality.” Cassius smiled, “You will hear no complaints from me, although I must admit when the rider arrived, I scarcely knew what to expect.” “Look below you, captain; Apria has heard your call for aid.” Cassius looked cautiously over the side of the platform and was greeted with an astounding view of a greatly changed battlefield.

Each platform held seven priests, all with linked hands who were invoking the seven gods of light as they called down Holy Fire on the Demon Horde. Cassius paled as he saw how far back the Demon Horde had stretched. The Demon Horde was pressed against the Blood Wall now, as Holy Fire continued to rain down on the evil beasts. The Captain could clearly see that the day was won, and it seemed the Demons knew it as well. Screaming and screeching their hatred, the Demon Horde broke and ran for the safety of the dark forest.

On the wall, legionnaires slumped down in exhaustion, with no strength for a victory cheer, women next to men, as they caught their breaths. Up and down the line, the weary legions knelt on the Blood Wall and took their ease. The battered legions took stock of their wounded and dead and mourned the loss. Yet everyone who mourned the fallen legionnaires knew they had not died in vain. They had lived, breathed, and fought as the Legion in a tradition that stretched back over a thousand years. And once again, the Legions had proven their worth. When the dead were finally counted, the legions, who had totaled over seventy thousand men, had suffered thirty thousand dead and another five thousand so badly wounded that they could no longer serve. Nearly half the legionnaires stationed on the Blood Wall were dead. For all that the Demon Horde had paid a murderous price, as the Demon dead numbered slightly over five hundred thousand. The battle against the third Demon Horde yielded a number of heroes. Vibia Marcius Flava was the woman who had rallied the auxiliaries to her. The Senate, impressed by her courage and bravery, decreed that any woman who desired to join the Legion, as opposed to serving in the auxiliaries, was welcome to do so. Heregon Deepdelve, the grandson of Dorogin Deepdelve, had distinguished himself by leading his dwarven Cohort with such ferocity and tenacity, they had not suffered a single casualty, despite battling with rest or respite throughout the entire battle. And lastly, the Collegium and the Church of Maelstrom were honored as well, as it had been their collective idea to offer to fly the priests to the battle to aid the Legions. Both were offered a seat in the Senate, bringing its membership to an even one hundred.

Since the last battle against the Demon Horde, Apria has prospered. Her sons and daughters have spent their time in the Legions, and the Republic has grown. And now it is your turn. You are Aprian Legionnaires, and the next chapter of her history will be written in your blood.