The Lugian army and their new allies are standing on the battlefield. Two banners are weavin in the wind... The Flaming Red Auroch on a green field and the Draco, the howling wolfheaded dragon of the dacians... A few warriors but decision and skill was showing in their eyes. In front of them a barbarian horde almost double in size.
- In the name of our ancestors and under the protection of Druantia and Zalmoksha... Chaaarge!
The warriors Charged in a wedge formation, the ones with shields and long daggers forming the very edge, flanked by the ones with spears and staves. Blood was flowing in waves, transforming the dirt of the battlefield into slippery red mud... Barbarians were falling but a lugian or a dacian was falling too for every two barbarians...
At last Agathyrsos and Flavioratus ... a lugian and a dacian, both wounded, stood on the field facing the last 3 barbarians... Agathyrsos was badly wounded and his shield straps just broke away, leaving him to fend off barbarian spears only with his dagger... it was not enough... while he parried one hit, another wooden spear pierced his armor just under the armpit... The barbarian who stroke down Agathyrsos was kiled by Flavioratus but it was too late...he remained alone facing two enemies... son he got hit by a wooden club pierced with flint shards and fell to the ground...

The battle could have been won, but the gods were not on their side this time... It was so close... they have to retreat, trying to attend to theyr wounds... the dacians shared with the lugians their healing ointments made from secret herbs by the priests of Zalmoksha...
-We will be back... grinded trough his teeth Agathyrsos...