Quoted By:
<span class="mu-i">Somewhere in the Colorado Province</span>
You are Quintilius Publicis, Tribune of the mighty Caesar’s Legion and an unmatched conqueror.
And you’re currently very frustrated.
<span class="mu-r"> Pullo: Bring the building down on their heads, Legate. If they wish to cower, let it be in their tombs. </span>
<span class="mu-r"> Morus: I promised Caesar these slaves, and I am not sure where else in the wastes I will find such a group. Do you concur, Tribune? </span>
The argument has been going on between Camp Prefect Grackus Pullo and your “commanding officer” Legate Morus. You shake off your mood and turn to the Legate.
[Caesar commands and we obey. The tribals inside will be taken alive and unharmed, somehow.]
The three of you are gathered at a command tent three blocks from the Denver Public Library, a building designed very similar to those in New Rome. The last of the United Tribes of the Bronco have gathered there, desperate to not be saved by the Legion.
When you first approached The Citadel and its inhabitants, you were….impressed by the challenge ahead of you. They numbered in the tens of thousands, had advanced technology and the benefit of a metropolis to defend from. Any other Legion commander would have shed too much blood to subjugate the tribes and take this jewel of the mountains.
You’re not just any other commander, which is why you’re the youngest Tribune in the Legion and on track to become the youngest Levante ever. It’s the highest honor of your life to serve a man who brought civilization to the barbarians you were raised with. The pain of losing so many kin was eventually replaced with a singular purpose to defeat the enemies of the Son of Mars. A role you’re exceedingly good at.
This was to be the last task before you turn your sights back to the West, to the degenerate Republic and then to New Vegas. The United Tribes were intimidating at first, but you quickly saw the best path forward. Instead of taking the entire faction on, you began targeting each tribe individually.
The Handdogs, ferocious fighters that made good use of their mongrels. In urban combat, they were just as vicious as your legionnaires. Instead, you introduced your own diseased mongrels to fight, mate and interact with their stock. In time, their greatest strength would become their undoing.
In the meantime, The Mole Men posed a different threat. While poor combatants in traditional fighting, their mastery of the Denver sewer system and knowledge of subterranean hideouts made it impossible to secure supply lines and protect your rear echelons. It wasn’t an option to root them out, so you directed your engineers to build aqueducts from lakes surrounding the city and flooded a portion of Denver. With their hideouts submerged, the moles fled much like rats and were handled as such.
