Ambushitious || Marcus and Percy
Percy and Marcus clash in the streets of New Rome.
Marcus sighed as he began the patrol with a few other Romans. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to do the patrol, he actually enjoyed the fact that he was put in charge. It gave him yet another chance to prove his leadership capabilities. No, it was the fact that nothing happened on patrols and that they became boring. He led his team through the forest at the edge of the Roman borders. The patrol consisted of around six demigods, including himself. A few archers walked ahead of them, scouting, whilst the rest stayed in formation just behind. Everything seemed to be going as to plan to Marcus’s dismay when one of the archers signaled out to them. With a grin, Marcus left the formation and walked up to the demigod’s side. There was movement up ahead, and with the only scheduled patrol being them, whoever was in the woods was not Roman. He signaled the group to move forward to investigate, the archers moving as to flank the Greeks or whoever was in the woods. That’s when Marcus heard an explosion from the right. It was a trap, an explosive device that had been set off. With a growl Marcus and the group moved to the left, using their shields to prod the ground in front of them. Whoever they had heard had been setting traps, and who knew how many more there were.
Percy and a small group of engineers had been walking together to make everything a bit safer for them. Trapping was something that they’d been doing more than ever before. Greek fire trip wires, bear traps, hidden spike pits. It was a way of engaging the Romans without risking their own people. They were sorely outnumbered in this and they couldn’t waste their man power. As the explosion rang out through the night, Percy had to admit that he hadn’t expected that particular trap to go off so quickly. The Romans had obviously gotten here ahead of their schedule. “Form up,” he whispered to the Greeks as the Romans began to advance. Riptide flashed gently in the green light as the Greeks raised their shields and formed a line of six. On either side of him Greeks took their positions, the tension in the air was palpable and he could only anticipate the coming battle. “Are you ready to die?” he asked the Romans quietly, “I’ll let you leave, this battle doesn’t have to happen, you can all walk away and we won’t kill you. Last chance.”
Marcus twisted towards the voice he had heard. Marcus made out the figures in the dark, the moonlight tinted green and glinting off their shields and armour. The romans had already moved into position as they heard the voice. “I think you’re mistaken Graecus. We won’t be the ones dying tonight.” Marcus had an advantage, it was night and he could already feel his powers flourish in the moonlight. He unsheathed his knife and with a flick of the wrist, he disappeared from sight. “Forwards!” He called out to his Roman troops before advancing on the greeks himself. He moved through the woods, almost soundless, making his way around the Greek formation and within seconds making a fatal move on the outermost Greeks. As he felt his powers draining, he moved away again and quickly joined the Romans and unveiling himself. His sights now set on the person who was speaking. “Don’t make your dwindling numbers dwindle faster.”
As a daughter of Vulcan fell with a cry of pain to his left, Percy grit his teeth and realised that this was a fight that was going to be taken until the very end. Swallowing gently, he shook his head sadly. “I hoped that we could avoid this,” he replied, springing forward and bashing his shield into a Roman, the young man staggered backwards, and two Romans instantly filled the gap that he’d made in their small defensive line. Exactly as Percy had hoped as he veered left and jabbed his blade into the shoulder of someone who was indistinguishable in the night. Blood spattered his sword as he wrenched it free, before easily lopping off the head of the Roman who had dared come against him. As he evened the proverbial score, he couldn’t help but reach out for water, draining it from the air and blasting it forwards in a volley of icicles that rattle against shields and shattered against armour, driving the Romans back. “Fall back,” he ordered in fluent Greek, “use the traps we’ve lain already.”
Marcus grit his teeth as a Roman cried out in pain. The leader of the Greeks was a good fighter, really good. That’s probably why he was in charge. It wasn’t until the volley of icicles shot through the night air that he put an identity to the leader. It must have been Percy Jackson. A small smile fell across his lips. Marcus Acardi, the man who brought down Percy Jackson. A few greek words were spat out as the Greeks moved backwards into the night. Instinctively, the Romans followed. It was too late by the time Marcus had realized what the Greeks were doing. Another explosion went off as the Roman in front set off a Greek fire trap. Greek fire, a substance that truly set this war into action. A rune on Marcus’s back began to glow through his armour, a rune that allowed him to increase his power control. Thanks to his mother, Trivia, and being a descendant of Vulcan, he manipulated the fire out of the way, stopping other Romans from being burnt alive. Then, with a grunt he throw balls of flames into the night, crashing into the ground and setting off more traps, causing Greeks to jump out the way and lighting up their path forward. “Percy Jackson! Face my blade like a man and perhaps you can join your girlfriend in the underworld!”
Swallowing, Percy wouldn’t allow himself to be baited out by a Roman. Not when he currently held the advantage. Holding his hand up in a fist, the five remaining Greeks dropped their shields and held their position, Percy looked at the Roman who was firing fire balls off at them and couldn’t help but notice the deliberate attempt to seperate them all. “I’ve been to the underworld several times before,” he shouted back, “at this point ese it is my summer home.” As the Romans kept their attack going, Percy intercepted the fireballs with blasts of water, although the air was quickly becoming dry and Percy was forced to give more ground, unwilling to risk more Greek lives if he could help it. As they pulled back across the street, Percy spotted a fountain in a courtyard and drew all of the water around him, gesturing for the Greeks to hold back, he wrapped the water around him in a tight bubble before leaping forward and firing icicles and lances of water off at the Roman. His sword slicing out and the water responding becoming a cold extension around his blade. A Roman charged him and his sword connected with the shield, the water blasting them backwards. The Greeks moved to back him up and Percy knew that they were out of traps. Their advantage up for the moment.
Marcus worked hard to manipulate the water, feeling the energy drain from him. If he wanted to keep this up, he’d need to start using energy that wasn’t his, but that was not an option. That kinda magic always came with a price. He did however, manage to meet the Greeks attacks with the fire before finally waving his arms as if to silence an orchestra and snuffing out the flames. Panting, he wiped the sweat from the brow and ordered the Romans back into a tight formation. “It won’t be long now until we have reinforcements. They would have noticed we did not return on schedule and they would have seen the flames. Keep them here.” He snapped in latin to the soldiers around him. Their numbers were not terrible, one casualty and a few injuries. But the Greeks seemed to be the same, plus one big ball of water. Due to Percy Jackson, the Romans could not advance without being blasted back by a torrent of water. “Drop the powers Jackson, show us how you fought in tartarus. I heard there wasn’t much water down their.” The Romans stood by, ready for any sort of attack that might be thrown at them whilst Marcus bought time. Time that it would take for more Romans to arrive and time it would take for his powers to recharge.
Laughing mirthlessly to cover up his panting, Percy knew that there was only so long that he could do this and he was already preparing to give the signal to retreat. It didn’t take a genius to work out that they were soon going to be out of their depth and he didn’t want to lose anyone else. Too many Greeks had already died without him recklessly adding to that number. Swallowing, he sighed gently and chewed his cheek before shaking his head at Marcus. “And drop my main advantage?” he asked, “Do you think that I managed to survive all of these years by playing to my opponents strengths.” Once upon a time he might have taken the Roman up on his offer, but he was a very different person to the man that he had once been and he wasn’t willing to let the others get hurt. Alas, it seemed as if it weren’t his choice, for as the Greeks pulled back, one of the Romans hefted a spear and hurled it past Percy, he was too slow to block it and it skewered a daughter of Iris through her neck, sending her to the floor with a gurgling noise. But he wouldn’t allow it to get to him. They needed to escape and soon. “Get ready to pull back,” he said to his remaining troops, looking sadly at the two bodies of his own forces.
Watching the spear fly through the air made Marcus miss his favorite weapon. He had chosen the knife as he already had two archers for this patrol and it was something he was also skilled at. “Give me your bow and quiver.” He ordered to the Roman who was the designated Archer but who seemed to not be doing his job properly. He snatched it up and swung the quiver over his shoulder before quickly taking aim and firing a volley of arrows rapidly at the Greeks. A few flew directly towards Percy whilst others headed towards his companions on either side of him. He growled as all but one of his arrows missed their targets. The one flying into a Greek’s shoulder, their cry echoing in the night. “Surrender Percy Jackson or watch your friends die!” Marcus called out before signaling for his team to advance. Marcus let a few more arrows fly as he moved closer. His quiver emptied quickly and soon enough it was empty. He shrugged the leather bag off of his shoulders. He drew back the string of the bow, and with concentration he pushed the mist together to form an explosive-arrow construct, but did not let it fly.“This is your last warning!”
Replenishing his stock of water, Percy bolstered his defenses. His blade flashed as he took up a defensive position, raising his shield over his body he caught the arrows. He heard the cry of pain but couldn’t take the time to look and see what had happened. Swallowing gently, he took a step backwards as he spotted more Romans moving around them. “Started moving back,” he ordered, using his will to shape the water into a thin wall of ice. With more water he could’ve done more work, better work, but currently he didn’t have many other options, the Romans would almost certainly over run their position if they didn’t fall back further. Retreating away from the current alley, Percy charged straight into some Romans who had appeared to be trying to flank them. Clattering into them, he swung his sword and watched it slash through the armour as if it were nothing more than butter. The Greeks followed him, the injured ones bringing up the rear as they exited the streets and headed back towards the forest that they had first been fighting in.
Marcus let the arrow fly without hesitation. He watched as it impacted the ice wall and caused it to shatter, revealing a fleeing Greek force behind it. The disgust on Marcus’s face that they were getting away must have been evident because his Roman patrol raced after them without hesitation, only to be cut down by the mighty demigod. Marcus was not far behind them, running as fast as he could to catch up, leaving other legionnaire behind at the edge of the forest. Marcus ran. Through the trees and into the darkness, the only sound was the sound of his own breath and the forest detritus beneath his feet. Finally he stopped, his breath visible in front of his face. He looked around him, eyes and ears sharp for any movement or noise that was out of place. “Jackson!” He called out, his voice echoing off trees around him. “Face me!” he called out again into the darkness. His right hand twirling in a mist that was identical that that left his mouth, feeling the mist around him, ready to form a mist-construct such as a throwing knife or spear.
As Percy and his troops darted through the woods they past a small brook which had been artificially placed in the park. But the water that ran through it was enough. Turning to his troops he nodded for them to continue. “I’ll cover your escape and follow you back there once we have dealt with these Romans,” he dropped his shield for speed, slipping his sword into a defensive stance and pressing himself against a tree for cover. In the darkness he waited until he heard the Roman shout after him. Darting forward he leapt at the Roman and brought his sword jabbing down towards him, landing he twisted and spun his leg low hoping to catch them off balance. Dashing backwards he headed for the river, raising the water around him and tightly whipping it in a ring around his body, ready for the next inevitable attack that would soon come.
Marcus stepped back quickly out of the way of the demigods sword, but didn’t see the leg in the dim light. The demigod swept him off of his feet and he landed face first into the dirt below. He quickly stood back up, ears ringing, and spat out the blood from his bleeding lip. A bloody smile formed as he ran after the other, only to stop dead in his tracks as the son of Poseidon formed the water into a ring. His eyes narrowed as he realized that he was somewhat outmatched. “Clever.” He simply said, backing up. If he still had some arrows, he’d conceal himself and fire them off at him, but he only had his one knife and there was no way he could get a clean shot. “You may have gotten away this time Perseus Jackson,” He paused momentarily only to spit out more blood, “But next time you won’t be so lucky.”
As the ring floated in front of him momentarily, Percy took the time to listen to whatever shit the Roman had to say. He wasn’t convinced that it was particularly important, or even something that he should be wasting his time with. But he wasn’t about to potentially miss out on something that was potentially going to maybe give them the advantage in a future battle. As the Roman seemed to realise that he was out matched, Percy couldn’t help but let loose a volley of icicles that headed the Roman’s way. They were half a foot long, razor sharp and deadly if they hit that right point. “There was no luck,” he replied, his brow furrowed, “sometimes you just go up against someone who is better at you. Not everyone can be as good as me after all,” it was childish. He should’ve known better than to goad someone when he was still in a dangerous situation. But this war had been so difficult on him and all of his friends and he couldn’t think of a way that they could beat this. So it felt good to succumb to some sort of temptation and to do something that was foolish, just this once.
Marcus quickly reacted to the icicles, raising his arm and summoning his shield. He let out a heavy grunt as an icicle hit his shield hard and sent him backwards onto the forest floor, shattering his magical-construct shield. Marcus knew he wouldn’t survive another volley like that and growled as he stood to his feet. He was weak and drained, not having enough magical energy to make a move that would affect more than just his floating moat of water. Sucking up his pride, and struggling to ignore the other man's goading, he spat at Percy before slowly backing away into the trees behind him, already considering what he’d tell the others. Marcus finally let a smile slip, the patrol hadn’t turned out as bad as he thought it would.
