Well thanks to my dream last night and some Roman shithead, I now have a scar on my face. In the dream and apparently in real life unless this is a very vivid hallucination. Not sure which I prefer at this point. There goes that fantasic modeling career I didn't have.
We found Naevia and managed to get her out. Lost Crixus in the process. Escaped into the forest. Lost more men. Killed even more. Spartacus was right: swords do get lighter with time.
Naevia's so weak, I'm not sure how we'll get her back to Vesuvius, and our numbers are so low I'm not sure how any of us will get back at all. Needless to say, morale isn't too great right now.