Sextus Leofdæg

Sextus stood as alone as a man can get when chained together with seven others, his chains stretched taught on either side as the men flanking him tried to distance themselves. The only reason his arms weren’t stretched out was the men weren’t strong enough to pull his crossed arms apart. He could hear them gagging.

“Mercury’s balls!” The man on his left gasped, “did you bathe in a Gallic latrine?”

The prisoner on the other side laughed, then coughed and spluttered. “This here’s Sextus the Sheep Fucker. He’s famous for that smell”

The first man leaned forward to look across Sextus at the other. “Sheep Fucker?”

“Yeah, he was caught in with the food supply, shagging a sheep”

The prisoner squinted up at Sextus “For real? That’s a death sentence isn’t it?”

Sextus gave the man a toothy grin “for sleeping with the Tribune’s mother? Probably”

That brought a general round of laughter from others nearby

“Shut your pie holes!” Yelled a legionary walking down the line, “And form up properly! Close your…What in Hades is that fucking smell???” The soldier recoiled from his attempt to push the prisoners closer together

“Why, it is me! Sextus Leofdæg!”

“The sheep fucker? Why aren’t you dead?”

“Because he’s the best damn fighter we got” chimed in the expert on his right, “and despite that godawful smell, our Tribune has a soft spot for him for some reason"

“For your sake, hope you’re right,” the soldier called back as he walked on, “there’s an entire country of angry savages, and you all are the front line”

Character Sheet

'Saxon - Sextus Leofdæg - bestiality! - fucking the food - sheep fetish - odious personal habit - sleeps with animals, smells bad, chummy - thick as two short planks, but man can he fight!'