The fort's gate was massive, spanning at least 20 feet. A centurion stood atop the gate, and he barked out an order. The gates were thrown open.
The fort was filled with wooden buildings on the far sides, equipment sheds in front of them, and tents nearest to the central path through the fort. Legionaries marched about, maintaining their equipment. Slaves marched through another gate to the east, past a sign labeled 'MINES'. Lashes resounded throughout the sorrowful line of mud-slathered men. Many of them had a look of grave disdain upon their faces. But this did not concern Diparitus. He simply kept watch over his cohort, their armor rattling and clanking as they marched.
_______________________________________________________________________
They halted near the center, and several officers approached them, sorting them out into the various barracks. The cohort was stationed in the tents to the left. The higher-ranked soldiers were stationed in the wooden buildings. The centurion silently thanked jupiter that he had a friend pay for his entry as a centurion. He marched into the barracks, it had a crackling fireplace at the very end of the hall, and freshly-made straw-mattressed beds in the quarters. Slaves were hurried about, scuttling to and fro. The centurion walked for what seemed an eternity, until he found a door with no-one's name on it. He shrugged, and walked inside. A slave scurried after he shut the door, and a hammer was pounding on the door. After he set down his pole of equipment, and assorted it throughout the room, he looked outside. His name appeared thus on the door:
'CENTURIO DIPARITUS'
'Strange, my name on a door.' he thought. He thought on what to do as he stood in his room.
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