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You’re not retreating, you’re just advancing in another direction!”

That’s what that fancy-boy tribune said, see, when he sent my unit out as wide as it could go; idea was to hide and hit the Celts with some flamin’ maneuver he learned at school or some nonsense. Fancied himself a military genius. Joke’s on him though… our whole unit just up an’ left the field, the moment he turned his back. Ha! Can just imagine the joker cursing out us Thracians while some hairy Gaul, bare as a newborn, tears his brain a new breathing hole. But that’s life in the auxiliary for ya, boy! As my old man used to say, stay one step ahead of the Romans, keep your javelins sharp, and call it quits when the pay ain’t good enough. Oh, and speakin’ of which… barkeep! Keep that wine coming! Yeah, the boy’s payin’.

Now where was I… ah! Right. So you might be askin’, “Sarus, what’s a dashing man as yourself doing tied up in this joint as if you just dun broke yourself out of prison?”

Ah, now there’s a good question. See, boy, these ain’t just some tattered prisoners robes but the proud raiment of the city Guard! Now now, I see the confusion in your eyes… let me explain. See, difference is that the pay’s better in the Guard but the food’s worse, and ya actually have to work for it. Simple choice, right?

See, when my band passed through these environs an’ asked a pittance from every village we passed, these here city sods took it as looting and plundering and rounded us all up! Now to be fair, there was a bit of lootin’ going on, but it was simple marauding at best! Wasn’t hardly a proper plunder… Anyways, they told me I could pay my debt as a guardsman or clapped in irons. I chose the irons, naturally, but something ended up going foul and some commander of the Guard mistook me for one of his own. Egh, bureaucrats…

So here I am, for now, at least! With that, cheers, boy! Here’s to hoping the Guard has a fancy-boy military genius too, eh?