The activity on and around the Calebii bases has grown to fever pitch. Bases, for where there was once one encampment on Amnor, now it has a twin over on Pharos. It is a weird, cannibalistic relationship as stone buildings disappear from Amnor and are replaced with tents, just as over on Pharos, a tent vanishes and the foundation of a stone structure takes its' place.
This process, building to a crescendo for many weeks continues through the night. Torches and bonfires lighting the camp, revealing eerie shadows of legionaries and strange hulking shapes within the pallisade and walls of the Calebii base.
Huge fires rage in the drydock as transport vessels burn fiercely, ending with a hiss and roar of steam as water is let into the basin, splitting the rock and concrete of the walls and bottom into a million tesselated pieces.
Dawn breaks and from the battlements of Armengar, a sight that has not been seen for two centuries and uncounted generations of defenders meets the eyes of the sentries...
The Calebii Camp is gone...
Drawn up on the site of the camp is the full legion as if on parade. The only structure remaining is a large tent in what would have been the dead center of the encampment.
Century by Century the legion files past it's officers, mounted on horses before the tent and then march down the path to the harbour, where the Calebii fleet waits to take them over the water to Pharos.
Across the distance, the commands are faintly audiable.
"Eyes.... RIGHT! Legio... Salute!"
As one, the gladii of the XIth Legion are drawn and extended toward the
walls of the fortress in salute,
"AVE AMNOR! AVE AMNORII INVICTUS!" (Hail to Amnor, Hail to the Unbeatend
Amnorians!")
One by one, the triremes pull out from shore until only a rearguard of cavalry and officers remain before the tent. One of them tugs at a lanyard and the tent collapses, to reveal a plinth and a brilliant gleam of gold, radiant in the morning sun.
At the last, only one Calebii remains on Amnorian soil and he pauses on his horse at the quay, looking up at the ramparts that he and generations of his predecessors had stormed time and time again. He raises his arm in salute to the walls, drawns his sword and throws it point first into the ground where it stays... pommel quivering for many moments. Then he dismounts, boards the last trireme and is gone.
It is over...
"Dedicated to the souls and memory of those who fought and died in the seige of Amnor, 950AF to 1101AF. Whether they be Lions of Amnor(*) or Soldiers of the Eagle May their deeds and honour echo into the world beyond and serve as reminders to those of us who remain"
The statue itself appears to be of solid gold (the only way to be sure is to either cut it up or melt it down)
It depicts a legionary and a magnificently maned lion locked in mortal combat. Neither appears to be winning but neither appears to be losing either. The pilum of the legionary is embedded in the Lions' flank, the shoulder armour of the soldier is ripped away and both bear the marks of dozens of wounds inflicted by gladius and claw. The sculptor has captured the wild indomitibility of the beast and the grim determination on the face of the soldier. This is an elegant depiction of a fight to the death.
(*) OOC Note of IC information - Due to their ferocity and bravery, the legions have been calling Amnorians 'lions' for decades, long before they even heard of Camelot.
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