[Multi AAR] The Epic of Caelvs Morsvs Lvminivs - 'Rí Inse Ghall' - FINISHED, with EPILOGUE!

Great song choice, and I think it's Pulp Fiction? Just a thought.

Awesome, cant begin to think what his retribuation willl be like, looking forward to another update...

Unfrotunately no... those lyrics are from Viva La Vida
Glad you liked the idea anyway

Chapter 38: Mists of time
For Tom Clancy, who inspires my writing

Two of Finnáir’s thugs burst through the stout wooden door. The room was completely silent. It had been hours since they had beaten the Celt, and although it was still night, it would start to become light very soon.

It was absolutely silent.

“Where’d that pig go?” said one. Eyebrows raised, the other said nothing and shook his head gently, scanning the room for any sign of him. At first it was nothing… but then a rumbling grew… faster and faster…

Too late, the men saw an enormous barrel, large enough to carry several men inside. It had always sat in front of the lifting ramp, and it was unstoppable now as it rolled towards them. They had time only to cry out and try to protect their faces with their hands, but it was no use.

With an ear-splitting crash the barrel’s hoops were rent asunder, and the door was pressed shut by the gruesomely crushed corpses of the henchmen. The metal hoops lay parted like the petals of a delicate flower waving in the wind, and the air was full of flour.

Caelus’ face emerged over the parapet at the top of the ramp. He shivered with the effort of lifting his head up, his muscles in agony. His face remained a set mask of grim determination. As fast as he could, Caelus slowly rolled up and over the top, dribbling down the ramp like a broken egg on a bowl’s edge.

He had only seconds to get into place.

Slithering ungainly on his belly out of the door, and managed to hook his fingers - that is, those that weren’t broken - around a corner of the wooden walls. With a faint, lethargic groan he managed to lift himself into a sitting position just around the corner from the door. A faint white mist still hung in the air as Finnáir and his men came running. Caelus took a small stick from his pocket and reached with a trembling hand to light it on an oil lamp.

With a mighty pounding noise, Caelus heard the men enter the room by staving in the broken door. He heard the Rebel’s voice. “Don’t worry.” A sword hissed as it left it’s scabbard. “That whore’s son is still in here.” Caelus tossed the small stick with a flick of his fingers, before shielding his face.

The powdery flour, thrown up into the air now ignited like nothing else could, creating a mushrooming fireball of flame. The Rebels coughed and spluttered, throwing their swords at the cloud to kill it’s creator they suspected lay on the other side. It burnt long and hot enough to set the wooden door frame alight, and the men opened a back door. Finnáir’s distraught voice shouted to the men to hurry outside.

Caelus had already started to crawl away.

His legs and arms shuddered as he struggled to keep moving. He rounded a corner and emerged onto a grassy roadside. He slowly moved underneath a gap between one of the houses and the ground, and moved along until he was completely hidden. As his feet disappeared under the floorboards, he saw movement through the gaps in the wood, and saw torches raised, heard shouting voices. Loud angry footsteps echoed above his head and he heard a familiar voice right above him.

“Remember, I want him alive… it’ll be no fun if he’s already dead.”

The fortress where Caelus was being held was built on a high mound that had been cut into terraces to allow walls to be built on them. Caelus had been taken from the High chamber at the top to a granary at the 2nd lowest one. He slowly pulled himself along on his belly, groaning and aching. Within a few minutes he had reached a small ditch running behind the wooden wall on this level of the fort.
Caelus cursed inwardly. No way out. But then he realised that if this was any kind of half-decent fortress, the ditches would have drainage slots under the walls…

It only took a minute or so for him to find one. It was barely wide enough to take his waist, and he had to enlarge it slightly for his shoulders to fit. Slowly and drunkenly, he managed to knock out the edges of the hole, letting a bit of earth and grass fall to softly hit the ground a few feet below. As the earth gently crumbled, he heard the shouting voices dissipate into the darkness. The massive scale of the place was working against them, and they still had yet to check this level entirely.

Below him lay a cartful of hides. He didn’t hesitate, but dropped down into them. As he sprawled like a rag doll he sank into the inviting folds of leather. Caelus tried to draw breath, but then the night sky disappeared. He realised that a servant had thrown some more hides onto the wagon, and luckily, he seemed to not have been looking very closely at what he was doing. Slowly, Caelus managed to bend and flip over onto his stomach, peeping out from under a particularly thick piece of leather.

He could see the back of the cart driver’s head, and the old man, complete with curling white beard, tapped on the reins to get the horses moving. The cart gently started to move, and Caelus felt every jolt rock the core of his body. It didn’t take long to reach the gates, and they even passed a worried looking Finnáir and the following mob. The area near the gates was completely deserted, and the only sentinel waiting for Caelus was a single soldier.

However, the man looked young, strong and sharp. Behind him, a pair of rotting wooden doors guarded the entrance to something underground, and defensive towers crowded tall on either side. An evil stink pervaded the place. Caelus grabbed a small piece of wood and metal from his pocket and rubbed his thumb along the back. A soft click…

Caelus could vaguely hear the conversation from the front of the cart.
“I need to get these bloody things out of here tonigh…”
“Orders are orders. Nothing leaves the fort.”
“Do you realise what they’ll do to me? A frail, old thing like…”
“Save your breath, old man. Those unwilling to pay get nowhere.”
“Please, I only need…”

The old man grunted as the solider hit him across the face. The man held his face in his hands and gasped as blood ran freely from his nose.
“I said pay!”
“I hope on my mother’s life that you rot and fester in a cesspit somewhere, you bastard.” the old man had little strength to say it, but the soldier heard it alright. He growled and raised his hand to strike again. The driver had his face still hidden in his hands.

It had to be now, before someone else arrived.

Caelus granted the man‘s wish, and pulled the trigger. The hides muffled the sound, and it seemed that the man had been invisibly lifted into the air. He staggered backwards madly clutching at his chest and almost instantly fell backwards into the old doors, which provided no resistance. A low, gloopy splash was all Caelus heard, and the old man slowly looked up, before sniffing and making a praying gesture to the gods, before opening the gates and riding sedately out of the fort. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…” was all Caelus could hear the old man muttering to himself, but the noise had not gone unnoticed.

Another man appeared, silhouetted against the walls by the rising sun. He was hitching up his belt, and called out to the man. When he received no reply, he looked around, seeing the smashed doors and the open gates. Instantly, he grabbed a spear and ran off shouting. It didn’t matter to Caelus. The old man would be caught, punished, almost certainly killed. At least he had had one last moment of satisfaction, thought Caelus.

With a great effort (they were comfortable - he felt like he could go to sleep in them for ever), Caelus managed to roll himself out from under the hides and fall off onto a soft grass verge rolling down to the ground with a few extra grunts. His eye was sealed up as tightly as ever, but he managed to espy a small cave. He reached out his trembling, mangled right hand and desperately clawed at the cold earth. He pulled with all his might and heaved himself one inch closer to the sanctuary of the cave.

Toni! I wasnt aware it was common during that time period. In any case great escape.

Originally Posted by sinner

Toni! I wasnt aware it was common during that time period. In any case great escape.

???

I need to get these bloody things out of here toni…”

you used the name toni for the guard, felt a bit out of place for that time, I know it is of english origin dont recall though at which time period exactly.

Oh, no no no. That's not his name - he's going to say 'tonight' but is cut off mid-flow by the guard. That's the idea.
Now I think about it, it almost does look like that - god, how funny would that be? I need to get these out here tonight Tony... LOL :p

Get another update ASAP.

But one question, first.
How did a crippled, barely conscious man be able to crawl out of a cell, past the guards, somewhere in the yard, then crawl across the yard, some drain, get his body up the cart, dig in and cover, making himself invisible, and then pull out a gun?

Watch from 3:40 on this video, and the next few in the set if you want.
That's what this is based on .

I love every movie with "Blondie" in it
Just few days ago I watched the other one of that trilogy, "for a few dollars more"...

The barrel seemed awfully familiar from somewhere, and now I know from where.
And the moment I saw that barrel rolling down...hehehe

I probably misread the part where he sets ablaze the cell he was held in, I understood he was the one inside of it, and the reinforcements for those 2 guards outside. I still don't understand the gun he pulled out?

Remember the dart thrower that captain gave Caelus?

Yes - got it in one Doge . It's Arkta's dart thrower thingy from... *delves into untapped depths of enormous brain...*
Chapter 30

I aboslutely love this film trilogy - my fave part of 'for a few dollars more'

http://www.youtube.com/v/b2l4IKz3m7c&hl=en&fs=1

Love the guitar effect at 2:16 especially, but whole vid. is amazing!

Well, I can't say I like any of the three less than the others, but more special for me are the "the good, the bad and the ugly" and "for a few dollars more".
Music in all three of those is unique, and everlasting. The tune from the watch sends a river of chill through my nervous system every time I hear it.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

the voices on 1:13. oh god...



0:58 to 1:10 - and onwards. but this period just makes it obvious something absolutely amazing is just behind the corner.



Wait for the trumpet on 3:30. EPIC.

Now what happens every time is I say I will only find a link of this stuff for someone, and I end up spending 2-3 hours watching every single bloody youtube video related to ennio morricone and these 3-4 movies ("once upon a time in the west" is one of these, I can never split it apart from this trio)

Haha... I've been watching those videos constantly for the past 2 weeks... AMAZING!
Anyways I remember watching Fistfull of Dollars again and thinking 'Hang on... if Caelus has been cpatured, why can't he escape like 'Blondie'?'

Oh, and the cell on fire bit, just to clarify:
1. He's outisde the cell door, hiding round a corner.
2. The bad guys run in, and flour has been thrown into the air.
3. He throws as close I could get to a match in, and it sets alight. In fact, really it should kill them all, except it burns a little too fast .

I was always sceptical, but I've seen it done - when you get flour/corn flour and blow it onto a match, it makes an enormous fireball! Because the powder's so fine, it doesn't matter that it normally wouldn't catch fire - I would have said 'like gunpowder' to help you imagine it, but there was no gunpowder back then...

Hey SonofAlexander!

I haven't seen many AARs on the TWC due to time constraints, but I've been checking them out.

This is really good! I like your creative screenshots; getting more than just battle shots, which is difficult.

And then I was most surprised to find... a vanilla AAR! Very good. I've always thought that vanilla has a kind of vibrancy to it, but it's rare to see an in-depth vanilla AAR. Usually it's all RTR and EB.

Great updates as usual. Now I see the film reference. Havent seen those in a while, though. I knew the song, the movie I was trying to guess was pulp fiction.

OHHHHHHH... I get it. Good point actually, the early bit does have an air of Pulp
Wouldn't it be great of I had Finnair just randomly say to Caelus
'You eat burgers in Rome... you know what we call a burger with cheese here?'
What?
'Royale with Cheese'
Royale with cheese....

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

I intended this chapter to have more... plot in it, but as it is longer than I expected, it has been slpit into this chapter and another smaller one, which shall be out v. soon. Enjoy!

Chapter 39: “Immortality lay with hell…”

For George Lucas

The faint sound of a crow harking it’s dry, hacking call reached Caelus’ ears. He opened his eyes, slowly. Well, one of them that is. The other one was still glued shut by swelling and encrusted blood. Using the wall of the cave, he gently managed to pull himself upright. He was strong enough to walk, but not much more than that. The strength of his muscles had returned, but he still had many injuries to contend with. Caelus groaned as he flexed his back muscles. It was going to be the most painful morning he had had in years.

First, his fingers. 2 on his right hand and 3 on his left; all out of alignment. It would be hard to bear the pain, but he would never be able to use them again if he didn’t set them right. The fact he was using mainly broken fingers to do so made it even harder. He pushed with all his might and hissed, breathing quickly as on finger on his left hand snapped back into place. He flexed it experimentally, and did so to another on his right. He grunted and bent over as his hands screamed with the pain. With only 2 to go, he grabbed one - his left thumb - and pushed. It resisted heavily, and in his efforts he pushed the finger on his right hand even further out of alignment. An animal cry left him.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh….”

He felt weak as a child. He was always a child, always being dragged away from his home by those Gauls, watching his parents hanging from the ceiling like grotesque puppets…

Weakness…

Caelus almost felt like giving up. But he felt Alexandra’s hands on his back, her hair hanging over his shoulders, her sweet breath tickling his cheek…

Blinded by tears of happiness and pain, he grabbed his thumb and pressed it to his right hand, snapping both fingers back. He gritted his teeth and sank to the ground. His straggly black hair dangled either side of his face like a screen, blocking out the world. There was a voice in his head.

Go… do it… get going…

“Do what?” Caelus said aloud, listening for more.

Go… return… get back… tell the Generals… attack… attack…

“Attack? Attack who?” said Caelus, but he realised the answer even as he spoke. He began to walk carefully towards the mouth of the cave.

He had almost reached the mouth of the long cavern when he tripped and set out a hand to steady himself. His shoulder had been loosened where the Rebel thugs had pulled on it. With a cracking sound as ligaments slipped over bone, his shoulder popped from it’s socket. He stood motionless for a second, containing his rage… quiet, quiet. He knew how to replace it, but it required another person. How would he get back to Camulodunum with his sword arm not working?

Why

thought Caelus. Why don’t I just cry and shout at the pain?

He froze as he heard a harsh Celtic tongue call out at the mouth of the cave.
“Cunobelin’s got to piss too, you know!”

Caelus froze. As slowly as possible, he moved until he could just see out over the rock he was behind. A Rebel soldier had entered the cave, and his companions were far ahead on a trail leading out of the fortress. They were not waiting for him.

As the man undid some of the clips on his armour and began to lower his trousers, Caelus figured out how he could escape. The answer was simple: use the man.

The solider sighed as he watered the earth, and Caelus slowly took his knife from his waist. He crouched and walked towards the man from behind. But the Rebel was no slouch, and his soldier’s instincts heard a small pebble roll out from under Caelus’ foot. He turned round, trousers half fastened, and drew his sword angrily, pushing Caelus back. Surprised at how easily he had pushed a strong, muscular man back, he stamped on Caelus’ hand, making his damaged fingers release the knife. He pulled Caelus to his feet by the front of his tunic.

“Who have we got here then? On…” he realised, examining the face he had seen in the camp. Finnáir had made sure all the Rebels knew what Caelus looked like, and the man grinned. “Oh, payyyyyyy- DAY!” he cried, before smacking his lips. Realising he had Caelus completely at his mercy, he pushed him back against the cave wall.

“Alive…” said the man. “Cunobelin will be rewarded… but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a bit of fun too.” His eye twitched and Caelus assumed that either the man was mad or had simply gone crazy with the thought of power and, it seemed, some kind of… revenge?

Cunobelin hauled Caelus to his feet and pulled their faces together. “This is for my family that dies in the fires at Avon’a, you slaughtering pig!” he cried, before slapping Caelus in the face, sending him reeling to the hard ground. Caelus could do little to resist. Cunobelin hauled him up against the wall again.

“This is for my little boy, Caratacus…” he winded Caelus with a punch to the stomach. “… my son, Togodumnus…” Cunobelin smashed a fist into a part of Caelus’ left arm that was already bruised, and he felt nothing. “My perfect daughter… ARGH!” Cunobelin cried out as another hammer descended on Caelus. “And this…” Cunobelin said,

“… IS FOR MY WIFE!” He thrust a meaty fist into Caelus groin. Luckily, Caelus had part of his armour hang under his clothes there, but it still hurt like hell, adding to all his other pains and aches. As Cunobelin nursed his fist, Caelus fell forward onto his face, breathing heavily. The Rebel grabbed Caelus’ right arm and pulled up and across, trying to pull it apart, break bones and joints, and make Caelus submit with the pain; who knows, maybe in his madness he was trying to pull the arm off?

Caelus felt the bones in his shoulder sliding back into place… it couldn’t be… yes… haHA! He laughed out loud and Cunobelin’s face dropped in confusion. Caelus pulled hard with his right arm, and the sudden burst of effort pulled his opponent off balance. Caelus stood up and drove his heel into the man’s throat. Cunobelin managed to raise his hands, but it was all he could do to stop Caelus breaking his windpipe.

Caelus kept the pressure on, before grabbing a heavy stone and smashing it down on the man’s head. Cunobelin grunted, then simply lay there with blood oozing down his head. His eyes were open but the complete rupture of his skull had killed him instantly.

Caelus regained his breath for a second, before spitting on the corpse’s face.
“That was from MY wife.”

His plan now working, Caelus hauled on the man’s armour, and within minutes it was impossible to tell him from a Rebel. He was about to don the helmet, before realising he should change his hair - it was too distinctive. Caelus grabbed his knife and hacked off great locks of it. In the end, it looked short and brutal; indeed, Caelus saw his reflection in a stream beside the cave mouth. He looked more like a killer than a king.

Tearing a piece of cloth from the man’s tunic, he tried it round his head to cover his swollen eye. Funny - he looked quite like Mago, the Barca’s brother. Mounting the horse nearby, he quickly rode off. His friends would soon be coming to check why Cunobelin was taking so long…

It only took an hour to ride to Camulodunum. Caelus approached the nearest gate, sentries rising from it like trolls guarding a bridge. “Halt! Identify yourself.” Caelus decided to simply give these men the straight facts and see what they made of them.
“I am Caelus Luminius, King of the Celts, Ruler of the Empire of the Celts.”

The 2 men stood there in stunned silence, before one started to snigger and laugh. His senior officer snapped at him to be quiet before calling out “Prove it, King and we will gladly let you in.” He said it in a mocking tone, expecting nothing. The young Ranger nervously pointed out. “Sir, Caelus was kidnapped… this man is the same stature and he sounds similar.”

“That’s not enough!” the man shouted. He nodded to the Ranger. The man looked terrified, but after hesitating, nodded and bent below the battlements. He re-emerged with 2 bows and 2 arrows, and each man nocked his arrow, waiting to loose it.

“I order you to stop!” shouted the officer, although Caelus hadn’t moved since he’d arrived at Camulodunum. The young man spoke again. “Sir, we could summon one of the Generals… no-one would turn up and pretend to be Caelus, we’d never believe them!” “Exactly!” the Corporal shouted. “That’s what they want you to think.”

Caelus heard a whooshing sound and the blackness of unconsciousness swallowed him as he fell from his horse, an arrow in him.

Tres bien. Btw, this seemed a bit Gladiator-ish:

Originally Posted by SonOfAlexander

It only took an hour to ride to Camulodunum. Caelus approached the nearest gate, sentries rising from it like trolls guarding a bridge. “Halt! Identify yourself.” Caelus decided to simply give these men the straight facts and see what they made of them.

“I am Caelus Luminius, King of the Celts, Ruler of the Empire of the Celts.”