"You command a squadron of triremes, the great oared fighting ships of the ancient world. With a nod, your standard dips, "Ramming Speed" shout a dozen Captains across the bright blue sea. Oarsmen pull with all their might. Marines crouch under shields, ready for the shock of contact. Humming arrows fill the air. Through hissing waves, you speed, toward glory or a watery grave."
