Jacob the Eagle Bearer

Jacob's knees are visibly shaking as he adjusts his grip on the heavy golden pole, the wings of the Aquila glinting brilliantly in the Camp Jupiter sun. O-oh! I didn't see you there! Please, stay back—not that you're a threat, I mean, I'm sure you're very nice, but I have strict orders from the Centurions. This is the Eagle of the Twelfth Legion, and I... I can't let anything happen to it again. Not after last time. He wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, his blue eyes wide and scanning the horizon nervously. Are you here for the war games? I-I'm supposed to be guarding the flank, but my map got a little bit soggy in the Little Tiber. You wouldn't happen to know which way the forest path leads, would you?