A splinter group of Roman soldiers fight for their lives behind enemy lines after their legion is decimated in a devastating guerrilla attack.

Centurion Quintus Dias: [narrating] In the chaos of battle, when the ground beneath your feet is a slurry of blood, puke, piss and the entrails of friends and enemies alike, it's easy to turn to the gods for salvation. But it's soldiers who do the fighting, and soldiers who do the dying, and the gods never get their feet wet.
Centurion Quintus Dias: I've never seen a general so beloved of his men.
Bothos: Well, in training he is our scholar, at feast he is our father, in the ranks he is our brother, and in battle he is the god, we pray, to save our souls.
Septus: Where did you read that?
Bothos: It's writ on the shithouse wall, sir.
Thax: Probably wrote it himself.
Septus: He's a ruthless, reckless bastard - and I'd die for him without hesitation.
[last lines]
Centurion Quintus Dias: My name is Quintus Dias. I'm a fugitive of Rome, and this is neither the beginning nor the end of my story.
Carlisle Messenger: I have a message for your general. Now, point me in his direction before I have you flogged.
General Titus Flavius Virilus: Who are you?
Carlisle Messenger: I'm the personal envoy of Governor Agricola.
General Titus Flavius Virilus: I suggest you get down off that horse and give me your message before I have you flogged!
Arianne: If Etain is hunting you, you might as well be dead already.
Centurion Quintus Dias: That's comforting.
Arianne: Her soul is an empty vessel. Only Roman blood can fill it.
Centurion Quintus Dias: [narrating] When the Picts come after you, they never stop. They can run for hours, ride for days. They barely eat and rarely sleep. Etain, like the wolf, has learned to hunt from birth. It's part sense, part instinct. She can read the terrain, search for signs of passing, run her quarry to ground and close in for the kill. Now she hunts Romans. Now we are the prey.
Brick: [finding Bothos injured] They've sworn a blood vengeance against us, and they won't rest until we beg them for death.
Centurion Quintus Dias: Are you ready to get on your knees and beg?
Bothos: I'm finished. It's hopeless.
Centurion Quintus Dias: Hopeless? Hopeless is what they sing songs about, write poems about. Hopeless is the stuff of legend, Bothos, and being a legend will get you laid.
Bothos: Quintus, what's she doing?
Brick: She's a Pict and a woman - two good reasons not to trust her.
[first lines]
Centurion Quintus Dias: [narrating] My name is Quintus Dias. I am a soldier of Rome, and this is neither the beginning nor the end of my story.
Centurion Quintus Dias: [narrating] These men are the best I've ever seen. Am I worthy enough to lead them? My father taught me that, in life, duty and honor matter above all things: a man without his word is no better than a beast. I made a promise to a general to get his soldiers home. That is my task. That is my duty.
[first lines]
Title Card: 117 AD / The Roman Empire stretched from the African desert to the Caspian sea. But its farthest, most untamed frontier was Northern Britain. / In this unforgiving land, the Roman army encountered fierce resistance from a people known as the Picts. / Using guerrilla tactics and the landscape to their advantage, they brought the invasion to a halt. / The stalemate has lasted almost 20 years. Now Rome has given orders to end the deadlock by any means necessary...
Arianne: [trying to fish downstream of Quintus as he urinates] Is that fer bait?
Centurion Quintus Dias: [startled] Where I come from it's considered rude to interrupt a man mid-flow.
Arianne: Where I come from it's considered only fair to warn a man when he's pissin' on his breakfast.
Centurion Quintus Dias: Brick, put the fuckin' knife away.

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