I have pledged my life to the Legion, to the Empire. It was my duty to live, to fight, to die, for Rome. I am Pamphilus Libo, a proud Roman, a member of the mighty armies of Rome, a Legionnaire. I was raised a farmer's boy, considered a lower class citizen by my fellow Romans. I joined the Legion to bring wealth and status to my family. Our many victories on the battlefield allowed me to climb the ranks and become respected among my brothers-in-arms. My experience in the battlefield and my skill in combat has earned me the title of Centurion, a commander of 100 in the Legion.

I have served my years fighting in the war against the Greeks. We pushed their forces south all the way to the city of Corinth, where they made their last stand. I had expected them to surrender after suffering tremendous losses at the hands of the Legion, all they needed to do was surrender and become part of the empire. Unfortunately, they rejected our proposal. We made one final attack, and burned the city of Corinth, slaughtering the men of the city, and taking the women and children to be slaves for the Patricians, the rich and powerful.

As soon as the battle ended, the Greek forces decimated, and the city burned to the ground, the Legion marched home. The army was a day's march from Rome, and had decided to partake in revelry for the final victory over the Greeks and the further expansion of the empire. The men enjoyed the company of the women captured in the raid of the city, much to the dismay of the women, but they had no choice. They would scream and resist for the majority of the time but would eventually give in to the desires of the men. The Centurion and Praetor tent was no exception.

Wine and women were abundant in the tent as the Centurions of each Legion cohort would have a slave on the laps, which they would touch and grope as they please, some of the Centurions would whip the slaves for entertainment. "Pamphilus!" a voice called to me. I turned to my side and saw one of the Centurions, Adolphus Fulvianus, taking a seat beside me with a cup filled to the brim with wine. His full black beard was dripping with wine, and he was still in his Legion cuirass and greaves. His face is round, so much so that you would not notice his wrinkles, and in turn, you would not notice his age.

"What are you doing sitting and drinking all alone, my friend?" he asked, rocking back and forth trying to keep his balance. "Grab a whore, make love until the sun rises. There's plenty to choose from." he laughed, grabbing one of the Greek women that were brought into the tent. 

She reluctantly sat on his lap as he proceeded to caress every part of her, and eventually began raising the bottom of her tunic. "Tempting as always, Adolphus. I must decline, however, you enjoy your prize." I said drinking more wine. 

He laughed in response, clearly too drunk to convince me any further. He raised his chalice, catching the attention of the entire tent. "Glory to Victoria for a swift victory!" the rest of the Centurions raised their cups. "Glory to Mars, for these spoils of war!" "And most of all, Glory to Bacchus for the opportunity to enjoy these spoils!" he laughed and the whole tent became louder with cheer and laughter.

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The cries and screams of the Greek woman were nearly drowned out by the laughter and joyous sounds of the soldiers. I rose from my seat and stepped out of the tent for a bit of fresh air. Most of the celebrations were kept to each of the tents, however, you could still hear the men and the slaves as there were over tens of thousands in this army. There were a few that stepped outside to gamble their earnings and sometimes their weapons as well. I saw it as pointless and disgraceful as a soldier to gamble their money away. Unlike the other Centurions, I made it an order not to gamble as I believed it kept them from turning against each other and made them better soldiers. A few of the soldiers under the other Centurions, had even felt threatened by me if they saw me while they were gambling.

I walked past the various red and gold tents of the Roman army, a few soldiers saluted me and then proceeded with their evening duties. I walked along the walls and watched the sentries on the wooden towers, inspecting whether they were asleep. If they had been, they would have been executed.

When I had finished with my inspections of the camp, I found the most quiet corner of the camp, took a chair and sat underneath the dark, star-filled sky. I drank my wine quietly and in moderation, I did not intend to get drunk like the other men. I listened to the quiet breeze that came in the cold nights, and breathed the fresh smell of the wilderness, the trees, the grass. For a moment I had forgotten the war, and the spoils of war. I had forgotten the burning of the Greek homes, the land drenched in the blood of fleeing men and women, the image of bodies completely devoid of life in their eyes and their bodies cut in every vital part, and lastly, the torturous screaming of the Greeks as the soldiers murdered and raped them, with the Romans laughing as they did it.

"I knew I would find you here, Pamphilus." a man's voice said. I opened my eyes and saw a soldier in a tattered brown tunic, brown curly hair and equally brown eyes, smirking at me. "I expected you to be enjoying the night with the others, Marcus." I said. The man was my friend, Marcus. We had joined the Legion together, and we were both raised as farmer's boys. The only difference between us was that I was a little bit more serious about my duties as a soldier, Marcus was only interested in the fighting and the celebrations after. "And you should be with the men celebrating." Marcus put his arm over me and rocked me back and forth with him, hoping that it would help me get in the celebratory mood. "I appreciate the offer, my friend, but I would be satisfied with food in my stomach and a nice quiet drink for tonight."

"We had just won and defeated perhaps the greatest power for a century and you would be satisfied with a drink alone?" he looked at me, perplexed. More noise burst from the nearby tents. "You of all people should know, Marcus. I have never been one for sex and celebrations." I said. "Even so, Pamphilus, this is a joyous occasion." I listened to him, but I did not respond. Instead I looked up at the stars, mesmerized by their shining light in what would have been complete darkness without. Marcus shrugged and sighed in disappointment, as he rose from my side and walked away. "That is war, Pamphilus. You cannot change it. They are enemies, slaves, property." Marcus said, before he walked away and to one of the nearby tents to return to the celebrations.

I am a proud Roman citizen. A proud member of the Legionnaire. I would gladly fight and die for the Empire, and my enemies are nothing more than that, enemies. The women and children? Slaves, property, spoils of war. That will never change, and I should not feel any remorse or guilt towards any of them.