NSWRPF Archive Colosseum: Gladiator Games

Colosseum: Gladiator Games

WELCOME to the Colosseum, the most entertaining gladiator bowl in all of the Roman Empire! Come inside and watch man versus man or beast shed blood, hack limbs, and behead opponents for glory, fame, and honor!

There will be Action...

Gore...

Blood...

and Orgies?

Okay maybe not orgies. But you will not be disappointed with the Colosseum's annual Gladiator Games! Witness the triumph of the Roman Legionaries as they fend off the barbaric Goths from the north! Cheer on the infamous gladiator, the Spaniard, as he slaughters the hordes of Hannibal!

Watching not your thing? Prefer to be in the action instead? Never fear! The Colosseum is ALWAYS looking for new blood to pit against man eating tigers, bloodthirsty gladiators, and filthy zaarins...I mean barbarians!

---

[b][u]The Rules[/u][/b]

1: ABSOLUTELY NO GOD MODING. Those who are caught god moding will find their character struck down by a gladiator and removed from the game. If you do not know the definition of god moding then see below:

[blockquote][i][b]god mod-ing[/b] (v.) - [1] to commit an act or action in a way that does not allow room for error or failure, [2] to play in an unfair fashion by granting oneself greater powers, playing unfairly, or having conduct unsuitable to the rules of the game, [3] to control the actions of another in a way that gives the god-modder an unfair advantage in a situation, [4] to deny that a character is imperfect and are susceptible to failure or death, [5] to act like a god.[/i][/blockquote]

If you are uncertain as to whether your post breaches this rule, send a draft to the Game Master and ask him to review it before you post it. If it does breach it, he will point out where you need to edit.

2: Keep out of character chat to a minimum. If you have questions, private message the Game Master.

3: Obey the rules and regulations of the RPF and the TOS. Failure to do so will result in your demise as the Patron Moddess strikes you down with a ban bolt!

4: NO ONE SENTENCE POSTS! Take the time to think about what you are going to write. Quality not quantity is the rule here!

5: Use the TAG system and be courteous to other players that are also tagged besides you. That means you must learn patience and wait for the tagged people to post at least once in response.

6: Most important of all, HAVE FUN!
[hr]

[b][u]The Positions Taken[/u][/b]
The Patron Goddess - NaboosPrincess
The Roman Emperor - GrandAdmiralJello
The Gladiator - CmdrMitthrawnuruodo

[b]The Patron Goddess[/b], she is our goddess whom we pay tribute to and worship.

[b]The Roman Emperor[/b], he is our leader. Divine by right and by the Gods. He has the power to decide your fate after a game. It is he who you will want to please so you had better put on a really good fight!

[b]The Gladiator[/b], he is the unbeatable warrior of the Colosseum, a superstar. Loved by all who watch his battles and feared by all who have to face him in the coliseum.

[b][u]The Gladiator Positions[/u][/b]
The Established Gladiator*
The Unwilling Slaves
The Thrill-seeking Senator
The Fame-seeking General
The Glory-seeking Citizen

[b]The Established Gladiator[/b], he is like the Gladiator, loved and feared. His glory is [i]your[/i] death.

[b]The Unwilling Slaves[/b], are men and women captured from far away lands or just plain criminals and murderers. These are the warriors who are forced to fight for their lives. Very few become established gladiators.

[b]The Thrill-seeking Senator, Fame-seeking General, Glory-seeking Citizen[/b], these people use to watch the games as spectators. They have become drunk with envy as other men become gladiators and are loved and feared by all. They have abandoned their previous life to become the superstars of the Colosseum. Only the skilled survive to become established gladiators.

[b]*[/b] Private Message the Game Master for the position.
[hr]

[b][u]Weapons & Armor[/u][/b]

Each position has access to certain weapons and arm

 

Hmm... glory is gained through violence and bloodshed. Yet explicit violence and bloodshed fall outside of the PG/PG-13 rating for these boards. I sense a conflict.

 

What Jello said. It all depends on the author of the post really, not the game. If they violate the TOS, its not the games fault, its the player's. And we've had gladiator type games before where the players havent crossed that line.

 

Name: Brutus Spartacus Vitus
Gender: Male
Position: The Established Gladiator
Weapons: [image=http://www.mitechtrading.com/images/SKTSBA-m.jpg] [image=http://www.clevelandart.org/kids/armor/images/halberd.jpg]
Armor: half-plate
Description: short brown hair, blue eyes, very muscularly built

 

OOC: I'll use the glory-seeking citizen as my player character, and when you give me the others I'll play them too. Looks very entertaining.

Name: Pontius Greco
Gender: Male
Position: Glory-seeking Citizen
Weapons: [image=http://img180.imageshack.us/img180/258/b0009ttjgs01a36nil00hj3iiyscmzzzzzzzxm3.jpg] [image=http://img180.imageshack.us/img180/7629/dksh6ai3.jpg]
Armor: [image=http://img180.imageshack.us/img180/3358/studdedok2.jpg] (Studded leather armour)
Description: His dark, curly hair whips about his youthful face as he flails with abandon within the colloseum. Dark eyes and tanned skin, bequeath fine features to the lad, as well.

 

Name: Xero Angelus
Gender: Male
Position: The Fame-seeking General
Weapons: Halberd, sickle
Armor: Half-plate
Description: Long graying-black hair reaching his mid-back, a graying goatee, a deeply tanned muscular physique, a deep scar running down his right eye; stands 5'11", 214 lbs

 

I'll wait for a couple more people to sign up. If they havent by Monday, then we'll start.

 

GrandAdmiralJello, Zedd-Vega, oppaizombie, Master_Kast7

Colosseum - Roma, Roman Empire

The roar of the frenzy mob drowned out all other sounds in the colosseum as they cheered on or booed the men fighting at the very heart of the stadium. The sand covered floor was covered in crimson red and bodies of both men and beast as the lone survivor strode before the crowd toward the most important viewing box in the entire place. The gladiator slapped his gladius against his chest and half bowed before the master of the known world, knowing that his performance today had already gained the approval of not just the crowd but the Roman Emperor as well.

He was also one of the Emperor's favorite champions.

While all this went on outside, inside and below the colosseum sand covered floors, several men waited chained together to learn what their fates were going to be this day. There were a dozen men paired off with one and another. One man held a worn gladius while the other man held a worn shield. Some of the men were frightened to the core, even one man let go of himself and those behind him took a step back while the one he was chained too prayed to the Gods for mercy.

On the other side of the colosseum were men of both stature and nothing. Pontius Greco was one such person who had little compared to the two other men. He wore studded leather armor and held a trident in both hands. At his belt was a dirk waiting to be used. Next to him, standing more confidently was Xero Angelus, a former general of the Emperor's armies, who thought he could find more fame and glory in the center of the colosseum then he could out fighting the hordes in the north. He wore half-plate and carried a halberd and a sickle. And last standing behind them both was Brutus Spartacus Vitus, a veteran of the colosseum and a rising star. Strapped to the back of his armor was a battleaxe while in his hands he held a halberd. It is said that Brutus would soon face the Gladiator champion, Fenrir, and many bets were already being made that he would suffer the same fate as all other challengers.

Silence rained down upon the colosseum as the Emperor raised a hand, commanding for it to be done. In the box with the Emperor was a plump and well manicured Roman, obviously the games keeper of the colosseum. He stood up, paid his respects to the Emperor before announcing the next events of the games.

"... We have some new blood for all of you today. Former General Xero Angelus of the legionaries and Pontius Greco who sold his farm and his life so he could be loved or hated by all of you! These fresh blood will be joined with Brutus as they face a hoard of savage men who will stop at nothing to survive what is about to come. Among the usual riffraff and criminal scum are captured germani who had proven themselves worthy of our Emperor's mercy." He continued on and the noise of the crowd crescends as the two gates raise.

One gate the three gladiators confidently stride out onto the sands to the cheer of the crowd while the other gate the doomed slaves are prodded out by guards or those they are chained with.

Zombie, I will be controlling anything you fight. Every other slave is yours.

I will also randomly throw in some things every now and then to spice things up.

 

OOC: Of course. And if you have anything special in mind for anymore, be my guest with a PM or take control, either or. With that said, cry havoc and let loose the unforgiving carnage!

Unwilling Slaves
Pontius Greco
The Coloseum; Roma

My wife. My farm. For it all, I will not lose. I will take glory or I will take death! These were the thoughts of one Pontius Greco. A meager man who had thrown the life the Gods had decided for him, back into their all-knowing, all-seeing and arrogant faces. He would take his own destiny by the thread, stealing what the Fates had conceived and become the ruler of his own life. These were his thoughts as he stood huddled against the other gladiators of the arena. When the gates rose and the blinding sunlight of the colloseum swathed over him with its indifferent yet wanting eye, these thoughts flew away from his mind entirelly. Painfully gripping his trident was all he could do to muster the strength required to keep the light meal of bread, cheese and wine he had been given earlier, from rising up his throat.

Rectus took a step back as the man in front of him relieved his fear upon the sandy floor of the dim and cool under-vaults of the hypogeum. About him many had been gathered and chained to a partner who either held a short sword or a shield. Both were of poor quality, he surmised. Both would no doubt break asunder mid fight. But what concerned him most, was when they would break. When would fear and horror tear their mortal minds and leave them the shadows of men before the great thrust or the mighty cleave smote their ruin upon the sands of the colosseum? Upon an insatiable battlefield that had consumed, through dust and cheer, the lives of countless men.

There was a clatter above. Rectus looked up as the wood and iron gate was pulled away and the heat of the Roman sun poured through. He heard a deafening tumult. The people of Roma cheered in a merciless mirth. This would be the sound they died to. This would be the last sound any of them would hear. "Not me," Rectus spat. From behind, the sharp ring of guards unsheathing their gladii caused a ripple through the slaves as they cowered up towards the opening. With slow steps they began marching up the stairs. They bade farewell to the cool under-vaults and greeted with craven bellies the hungry maw of the colosseum.

He felt it vain even to speak but he would not let idle his spirit. Talking seemed to lessen the burden of certain doom, for the most part. "Keep calm and try not to lose your heads-" By the time he realized his unitentional pun, one of the slaves reeled over and hurled onto the steps. "Damnit man, pull yourself together." Another, he thought someone futher below, started screaming. Only when his own chain became taut did he realize it was his partner. "Fool!" Rectus cried, tugging the weaker man up the stairs. He felt, before seeing, the warm light of the colossuem as it fell across his back. Closing his eyes, Rectus turned and let the brilliance burn his vision red as blood as the sun penetrated his eyelids. "Gods be merciful..."

With a grimace, Pontius swallowed back the bile and stepped forwards into the colloseum; into the thundering uproar of the crowd. Their cries were a hymn that instilled great and triumphant thoughts in the farmer. In his mind he dealt the death blow to the champion and reinged forever as the invincible favourite. It was this delusion of grandeur or it was abject fear; it is no surprise then, that the farmer held the former in a death grip of mind and spirit. For myself.

Hefting his trident in hand he maneuvered himself towards the outer most ring of the arena. Around him the others were also arraying themselves. At any moment death could appear and steal away with his life to the underworld. Pontius pulled his weapon close and slowed his steps as he realzied he was so far the furthest into the sandy colosseum. When slowing gave n

 

Xero Angelus

The Coloseum; Roma

Angelus held his head high as he entered the arena. His good eye scanned the crowds of adoring fans. "My moment," Angelus whispered to himself. He had completely ignored those walking with him, until his eye caught sight of the enemy: chained slaves armed with nothing more than perhaps a weapon or a shield. Pathetic and without honor.

The fields of battle longed for reemergence in Xero's mind, the coppery smell of blood and the sounds of clashing metal-on-metal. Xero would long to spill blood again, including his own, for the chance to fight once more. He was well-aged, in his mid-to-late forties, and with the experience of battle still fresh in his mind, these gladitorial games would be the highlight of the rest of his life.

However, the fact remained that Xero would not kill a helpless opponent outright, even if ordered so by the Emperor. They had spoken frequently about letting civilians go when they invaded the northern expanse, and it always ended with something along the lines of a threat on either of their parts. Xero wished the men would be given a decent chance to fight, for what is battle without honor? A bloodbath...

The farmer next to him spoke. "Calm yourself. Focus only on the attack, and the defense will come naturally." Xero placed a hand on the farmer's shoulder and gave him a rough smile, sliding his sickle from his back scabbard. These "slaves" would witness the unbridled savagery that was just tearing General Angelus apart from the inside. His technique however, would be revealed in due time.

TAG: oppaizombie, Mitth

 

Unwilling Slaves
Pontius Greco
Arena; The Colosseum

With the veteran's wise words and reassuring hand on his shoulder, Pontius Greco felt the fear within him abate for the moment. In the light of this man's experience in war, the farmer could not but listen to him and feel soothed; even in the face of death.

Focus on the attack. The defense will come naturally. Yes, it made sense to the inexperienced farmer. This was the secret of warfare. And what if it wasn't? The farmer was none the wiser, and even so, the words had done away with his cowardice. Taking up his trident and in a moment of fearless spontaneity, Pontius cried out incoherently. His newfound courage he sounded into that colosseum. To the farmer his voice carried out above the crowd; but only to the farmer.

Ponitus spun the forked head of his spear into the air and with a stylized sweep pointed it towards the slaves opposite them in that sandy arena. "I'll kill every last one of you." He whispered hoarsely to himself.

The slaves, now in the arena, watched as the crowds above and around them cheered for their deaths. "This is inhumane!" One of the men howled, tears falling form his wild eyes. "This is madness!" His words deteriorated into a jumble of tearful cries and several guttural laments.

Rectus gave him the quirky eye and shook his head in disgust. No doubt that man will die first. To his rear, where his partner cowered behind the larger man's torso, he felt more resistance in his chain. No, perhaps I will die first. My partner will cause me ruin for sure. It is hard to judge the true character of a man when he is placed in an extraordinary situation. And to be fair, one should not begrudge Rectus his next act. As he wished only to survive and with his frantic partner that did not seem likely.

Coming up to the man, Rectus observed as he mumbled and grabbed at the sandy floor, wild like some baying beast. The man's gladius was off to the side, half buried in the sand he was throwing around. Picking the sword up, Rectus stood straight and prepared himself. He gazed at the man below him and with a cry - the cry helped him through the idea of murder - plunged the weapon through the man. There was a sound, he tried to ignore it, and then there was nothing. After several swipes of the dull blade, he freed himself from the man. The chain dangled form his left hand.

The other slaves, at the moment of Rectus' attack, merely gave the man space. They wanted nothing to do with such. Now they turned their attentions back towards the gladiators. Oh, there were still stifled cries of fear, but mostly they were resigned to the task. At least for now. When the other men made their move, the fear would come back again. Rectus knew this, and he also knew he would succumb to that same fear.

Tag: The Gladiators

 

~IC:Brutus Spartacus Vitus~
Colosseum - Roma, Roman Empire


Brutus stepped out onto the colloseum sand and the blazing sunlight shining down into the arena. The cheers were louder than they had been in a long time. It's was almost as loud as the cheer that the Roma crowd would give to the favorite Gladiator and Champion. Though this day Brutus was proud to be alongside the former General of Rome, Xero Angelus. He was a very honorable man and was very skilled in battle. Brutus would make sure he fought with honor and valor alongside Angelus. But the former general was not the only man alongside him, there was a farmer as well who wielded a Trident. By the look in the farmer's eyes he is more than ready for this challenge that is set before him. Angelus gave the farmer some very encouraging advice. Brutus would add to it.

"You are strong farmer. Do not let those men strike first, put them on the defense. Fight with honor and bravery and you shall survive this day and triump!"

With those words added in he looked at Angelus, the man he had very much respect for. He nodded at him knowing the man would understand.

Brutus then blocked everything out of his mind. The crowd went silent in his mind. The sun was neither hot nor did it grow cold. All he could hear or feel was the beat of his heart and the twirl of his halberd through the wind. He stood ready and completely focused as the slaves advanced forward towards the gladiators.

~Tag: The Gladiators~

 

Xero Angelus

The Coloseum; Roma

The farmer seemed to be rather excited now after Xero gave him those words of confidence. It appeared that the man was moderately skilled with the trident, and as a farmer, has used one many times to pitch hay for his livestock. A little less for Xero to make up for in the lacking department of the farmer's skills.

Then, Brutus spoke up as well. His words were true enough, but seeing how enraged the slaves were at their imprisonment, enraged enough to kill their own, keeping them on the defense would be harder than they thought. Xero had killed many men, and that was merely an understatement. War and battle was second-nature to him, and having cornered many opponents over the years in alleyways and mountain passes, they were more vicious than they were on the fields of battle. Like cornered rats, these men would fight tooth and nail to survive.

A challenge General Angelus was familiar with.

He brought his halberd up from his side and began beating on his chest plate. He did this often to rally his troops, and perhaps, he could rally the men at his side, both Pontius and Brutus in the same fashion while at the same time striking fear into the slaves. Angelus let out a blood-curdling roar and pounded his chest faster and harder, the echo of wood on metal soaring through the round coloseum. He was well-prepared, and when the Emperor gave the word to begin, Xero would press the attack.

TAG: Master_Kast7, oppaizombie, Mitth, Jello

 

Unwilling Slaves
Pontius Greco
Arena; The Colosseum

When he had finished muttering beneath this breath about killing all the slaves himself, the favourite of the arena, the champion called Brutus, spoke to him as well. It was unheard of, the farmer felt, for these great men to both give him council. He could do nothing to hide the grateful smile or the reverence gleaming behind his eyes. "Th-thank you, champion." They see me as a brother! I won't let them down.

He side-stepped towards the high travertine walls of the colosseum. Still holding out his trident threatingly at the slaves who were still on the opposed side of the arena. As Pontius realized no one would attack until the Emperor bade them to, he took this time to look into the crowd. His eyes scanned through the offending light of the high Roman sun and fell over strange, unfamiliar and uncaring faces. As he did so he stopped suddenly upon the face of a woman. He could not tell but deep inside him, he knew it was his wife. Could she really have come? The woman was so far up in the secundum that he really did not know for certain if it was her. Regardless he felt that it was. And with her eyes upon him, knowing as did he how much they sacrificed to get there, he would not fall.

Flexing his hands around the hilt of the gladius and the handle of the shield, Rectus kept a steady breath. If he succumbed to hysterics his body would become winded and his muscles weak. He kept his mind on memories. Past times of good fun and happiness; of pleasure. These thoughts did well to keep his heart and mind at peace. Though his thoughts hung above an abyss of woe and fear by a single resolute thread.

He had precious time before the Emperor would signal for commencement. Rectus knew that if they had no plan, all of them might end up scattering into chaos and confusion. There must be a plan. "Everyone," Rectus said, turning to face his unfortunate fellows. "We can't all run about madly, we have to fight there is no way around it." The eyes he beheld told him most of the men there were moments from craven madness; a few had the familiar nonchalant sheen over their own, telling Rectus they were prepared.

"Chose your man or pick your fate, what have you." He finally said, as he turned around. "And align yourselves accordingly. And I swear by Jupiter's balls I kill any coward myself!" This was insane. He was no leader. Yet in this perilous circumstance he was discovering he had the sinew and courage to become one. With another breath, he awaited the Emperor's word.

Tag: The Gladiators, the Emperor

 

GM APPROVED

Name: Guinevere Adams
Gender: female
Position: unwilling slave
Description: Tall(5'5), strong, skinny, long blonde hair(down to waist, almost longer), dark brown eyes, tan skin(light tan),wears armor(most of the time). She is 19 and half years old now.
Bio:Guinevere was a princess. She got kidnapped and taken to a far away land(from her home). She was kidnapped when she eight and was forced to train under hard conditions. She was tortured and she was forced to be a fighter. By the time she was 18, she was strong(sometimes stronger than most men)and clever. She was then taken to another far away land and abandoned. Left in the desert. A traveler saw her, and took her as her own. She's lived with the man for a long time and the man discoverd she could fight, and trained her and was gentle/kind/caring to her. She learned to trust him. Someone robbed them, burned their house down just because Guinevere defeated a man that was not to be messes with. Now, she is a slave because they found her unconscience.

 

Unwilling Slaves
Pontius Greco
Arena; The Colosseum

Pontius Greco saw the sign given by the Emperor. His grip upon his trident became deathly and he motioned forwards. He had no mind as to who he would focus on. But as the slaves broke apart and began aligning themselves with the various gladiators his choice in the matter became irrelevant.

Rectus chopped the air with his gladius to get a feel for the weapon. Felt its size and weight and gave another grim nod. This was it. The signal had been given. His fellow slaves were aligned. All was prepared. It would be the gladiators now who next made a move.

Tag: Gladiators

 

OOC: Due to some serious events (that I cannot discuss) and circumstances resulting from it that happened over this weekend, my time online is going to be reduced significantly over the next few months. I will attempt to post when and where needed for all of you, but I will need patience from you for it may take days in between for the next reply. So any tags to me, please keep them to a minium.

Zombie has been given permission to control all NPCs that I did not control. He will be the one you will primarily be tagging.

I do not wish for this game to die, so please don't let it because of what has occured in DRL. Thank you.

EnnaJ

Colosseum - Roma, Roman Empire

With the signal from the Emperor, the fight was to commence. Unbeknownst to the gladiators and the slaves, a fourth person walked into the arena behind the gladiators. She was a new addition to the ranks, Guinevere Adams. She had previously and most recently been a slave but her fights in previous events this day had won her the right to fight alongside the other gladiators. But it was only temporary. If she did not prove herself worthy to stay by winning the crowds love, she would be sent back to the slave pens, the same pens that the slaves she was going to help fight stayed.

 

OOC: I will play the part you have given to me to the best of my ability. To everyone eles, continue on and we will keep this story going.

 

Guinevere gripped her battleaxe. She looked around the colosseum. It was hot and she was sweating. This was crazy. She was tired of fighting, she wanted to go home. Not that that would ever happen. Not now. Who knows, she could die tommorrow and no one would know that she was still alive. No one knew what happened to Princess Guinevere Adams. No one that she knew cared either. She wanted to stay alive and fight to try to get home to her country. She gazed at the crowds. She had come so far. She waited for the signal.

OCC: I hope that is ok.

Tag-The Gladiators

 

Xero Angelus

Colosseum - Roma, Roman Empire

Angelus roared in glorious response to the Emperor's signal and began to charge, his halberd held off to his side. His armored boots pounded up clouds of dust and dirt as his heavy footfalls became more and more prevalent. The sun glinted off of his plate armor and off the blades of both his halberd and his sickle, hinting to the potential deadliness of their use.

Xero was determined to draw first blood, as were most of the Gladiators. Whatever the case, should a slave score more than a half-hit or the unlikely killing blow, General Angelus will have likely underestimated his shackled opponents.

TAG: Slaves, Gladiators

 

OOC: The purple text above the tag pertains directly to the tagged character, no one else unless stated otherwise in the tag itself. Any purple text below refers to the next tagged character. Purple text alone between my gladiator posts is for Pontius himself. The posts may get long so if that is a problem look for your bold character tag and if you only read that you aren't missing anything directed at your character. To help clarify how many are attacking you I will put a little versus note at the top of my posts.

Pontius Greco vs 2
Guinevere Adams vs 1
Xero Angelus vs 4
Brutus Spartacus Vitus vs 4

Unwilling Slaves
Ponitus Greco
The Arena

The farmer watched as the general gave charge. The fierceness within himself was unleashed, as if the sight was a cracking whip, and after the general Pontius loped. He held his trident straight forwards, a perfectly sharp projection of his bloody intent. His own cry was no less summoned from courage though it lacked the stentorian tenor of Xero.

The first gladiator's charge was spurring enough for the slaves to move. Already aligned against their champion they moved haphazardly and fumbled against their chains; some had even forgot they were in fact linked to one another. Rectus, free of umbrage, sprinted towards the woman with his shield before the charge and his gladius held up in a scorpion stinger's fashion. (Tag: Guinevere Adams )

Pontius had engaged the arena after the general but his pair of slaves had hustled instead of withdrawn as Xero's first quarry had done. Dust floundered about the colosseum's exposed stage as the farmer clashed against his first challange. His jab was rather basic, his wits still a bit behind his charge it seemed, but it lacked none in strength of force.

The slave wielding the worn and abused buckler smacked Pontius' trident to the side.

The tang of deflected steel echoed in the farmer's ears and for the moment deafened the roar of the crowd. Pontius' world appeared to shrink. The colosseum sands and travertine walls contracted; pulled inwards to form a dwarfed battlefield where it was he and the slaves alone.

The force of the buckler knocked his weapon into the wall and the haft of the trident shook defiantly from the blow. His hands stung and cried out in pain by reflexively loosening. The trident jostled against the wall and sand as it fell, in a cloud of beige dust, uselessly to the earth. Pontius cried out, inherent fear voiced, and recoiled though simultaneously unsheathing his dirk.

The two whom had the misfortune of lining themselves with the general immediately became wide-eyed and gap-mouthed at the sight of a man turning into a beast before their eyes. He had become leonine and deadly quick. The halbred held to his side uncurling like a harvester's scythe before the felling blow.

The slave with the gladius shuffled backwards but his chain caught against the defiant wrist of his partner. "Stay and fight!" The other man cried as he moved forwards with the shield ahead of him.

"Run away!" Was the fleeing man's response as he tried to forcibly pull his partner back. Resigned to the coward's course the shield bearer retreated several steps but kept the buckler centered. These two did not need to fear for long, as another pair of slaves came bounding towards the general. They had not balked and instead threw as much courage towards the charging man as he threw at the slaves.(Tag: Xero Angelus)

Elsewhere in the arena the two remaining pair squared off against the gladiator's whose fame and skill had well been established. They circled the man wearily, eying his halbred and axe as if the weapons themselves would sudden spring to life and chase them all the way to the underworld.

The shield bearers faced the gladiator while their swordarm partners weaved back and forth behind them. In this formation they continued to circle t

 

Xero Angelus

Colosseum - Roma, Roman Empire

Angelus smiled, pleased at the fact he had accomplished two things with merely a charge: the first being that he struck fear into one pair of slaves, and the second being that he would be met with the challenge of two impending slaves. The general grinned as he met their charge, slashing down to the left-most slave with his halberd, not truly intending to strike. With the motion completed, his strike came, and he struck at the thigh of the same slave. He kept his sickle steeled and ready for any attack from either opponent, knowing that his plate armor would serve him better than any buckler.

TAG: Slaves

OOC: For reference: Xero's halberd is in his right hand and his sickle is in his left.