Showing results by author "J. Clifton Slater" in All Categories

Welcome to January 263 B.C. Attacking a pair of long spears with his short dagger was going to hurt and add to Alerio's collection of combat scars. And only leave him injured, if Fortuna smiled on him. If not? That's why he prayed to the other Goddess. This should have been the easiest, most luxurious duty a heavy infantryman could ever imagine. It didn't turn out that way and, at the moment, he regretted throwing the spear. These are the adventures of Alerio Sisera, Corporal of the Republic's Legions, Weapons Instructor, experienced Raider, Combat Rower, and protege of a Roman Senator.

The Legion is a machine of war. When the gears are turning, those not in sync with the machine get pulverized in the cogs. Most of the time, it's the enemy. Unfortunately, for Lance Corporal Alerio Sisera, the gears have political and egotistical parts that are just as sharp as gladius blades. Caught in the wrong place by vindictive officers, he is sentenced to a session on the punishment post and is badly injured. Wounded and disgraced, he must now save the same Legion that sentenced him to the harsh discipline.

There are anxious words to describe being in unfathomable trouble. A feeling of pressure, an emotion of being in over-your-head, and a sense of being smothered. Legion Centurion Alerio Sisera was drowning in the sea and experiencing all of them. From black, to gray, to green water overhead, Alerio transitioned through the ocean layers as he swam upward. Lungs screaming for air, and his chest heaving, his body threatened to take in a breath. It became a competition between the urges of his lungs

The heart and life of a battle is the center of the combat line. A dark, throbbing, and terrifying place. A place where death prowls between enemy shields, waiting for sharp blades to carve out an advantage. Welcome to 262 B.C. A single Legion is rushed into combat to stop a fortified army. The clash between Empire and Republic thrusts thousands of Legionaries into a nasty epicenter of conflict.

The tide of soldiers washed over the Legion shields. Buried, the ranks of Legionaries sagged. "Push!" the Legion NCO yelled. Welcome to 264 B.C. Over the grunts and cries of men struggling against the mass of bodies pressing down on them, the Optio bellowed again, "Push!" And the Legion shields rose, rolling back the tide. The higher the shields, the more soldiers slid off, and the straighter the Legionaries stood. One shield tilted back, and a mercenary soldier tumbled behind the ranks. An infantryman stepped back and drove his blade between the soldier's ribs.

The Second Punic War made gamblers of the Mediterranean world. Declare for Carthage or declare for Rome? The odds are 50/50 for life or death.

Welcome to 263 B.C. Between clashes of the Qart Hadasht Empire and the upstart Republic, men died. Whether from sharp blades held by strong arms or stones and bolts launched by ancient artillery, the hand of death grabbed souls from both sides of the battle line. Alerio Sisera will need more than an iron constitution, sharp steel, and a sturdy shield. To survive, he'll need his wits, luck, and infinite courage.

Welcome to 259 B.C. By law, all debts must be paid by the Ides of March. For men like them, sharp steel was the only acceptable currency. Unless something changed, one would emerge a winner and the other the guest of honor at a funeral. Blood payment might not have been the official objective. But it would not matter to an enraged Alerio Sisera as he clutched a gladius and held a temple voucher aloft.

Infantry tactics at a sea battle offer dangerous options. Run the boarding ramp into the tips of the enemy's blades. Or fall into the gap between warships. Welcome to 260 B.C. Death waits at both, but if you make it to the enemy's deck you have a fighting chance. With the sea, you are doomed by the weight of your armor as soon as you splash down. There is another option: Be the first Legionary to board an enemy ship. You might surprise and disrupt the Empire soldiers. And win medals and accolades. Or you might die as an unjust sacrifice.

You wanted the jolly fat man to bring Yuletide joy, but the season has gifted you with a heart breaker and a life taker—Badass Santa. Grab your eggnog and camouflage candy canes, strap on your bulletproof holiday stockings, and prepare for thrills and kills.