“Cry ‘Havoc!’ and let slip the dogs of war!”
– William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

We don’t let slip dogs, however. We let slip men, manly men, men’s men. Roman men whose virtus strained against the chains of disciplina. Men who could march all day and then spend three hours setting up camp, until their short, sweaty tunics clung to their broad shoulders and powerful backs. Men with thick, stubby fingers and stocky bodies covered in coarse, black hair. (Hmmm, this shouldn’t be turning me on, should it?)

In this installment of Warriors, we answer the age-old question of “Who da man?”

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