Ever onward marching in their ceaseless quest through history. Silent sandals tramping on stone. Through ancient walls built long after their time. Never ceasing in their return to camp, at the end of a very long day.
No ordinary soldiers these. The road they tread was lost millenia ago. Their feet and no more walk through what is now a cellar. Following a path that has long ceased to be, for anyone but them.
The rest is gone lost to the ages Roman soldiers marching to endless glory.