Archangel
Recruit
And thus did the Archangel descend from Heaven itself...
Posts: 0
|
Post by Archangel on Feb 18, 2006 1:16:03 GMT -5
Gladiator: What more can be said about Gladiators? They are slaves, and not priveleged ones either. Slated to be executed, they are instead sent into the Coliseum to fight for their right to live. Most people want to see them dead...either that, or just want to see death in general, and will settle for the death of one Gladiator in the ring, even though the death of both is preferable. And Gladiators are not released if they win. Oh no. They are instead placed as the "returning champions", and have to fight until they do die, which is sometimes very short. There are some Gladiators who have fought for so long undefeated that they were granted their freedom. Could that happen again? Let's see..... *********************************************************** A tall man walked down the street, surrounded by a cadre of Roman soldiers. He was not alone... nearly a dozen other huge, terribly strong men followed behind him. But none were nearly so impressive as he. He strode like a giant, his steps huge and his body intimidating. He wore no helm, of course, and his long sandy blonde hair swung just above his hazel eyes and down his back, which was scarred by the whip and rippling with muscle. He had been told by the Contesar Roma to dress in his finest...but, being a Gladiator, his "finest" consisted of the least bloodstained loincloth he could find. His body, however, rippling with muscle and shining with a thin film of sweat and dusted with dirt, was enough, however. He did look handsome in the harsh Italian sunlight, no woman could deny that, but he was also hard, rough, rugged. Not a man to bring home to mama. Plus, being a slave, it was not as if he could ever have a family. He could be dead in 24 hours, for all he knew.... The cadre of Roman soldiers jostled the crowd, pushing them aside so the Gladiators could step through. The jingling of the long chains worn about the Gladiators' ankles, connecting to each other and guaranteeing that none could separate from the group, shone through even in the bustling crowd of the street. They would reach the palace soon, where they would dine with the royal family, before spilling their blood tomorrow in battle. Batair moved confidently through the crowd, even with the spears of the soldiers all around him. But inwardly, he contemplated his fate. A slave brought here from Britannia, above where Hadrian had built his wall, he had been captured 12 years ago in a bloody raid when the Romans moved north into Celtic territory. He was shocked, to think that at 30 years old, he was by far the oldest Gladiator alive in Rome at the current time. He had fought his way through 6 years of fighting, and every time he had been brought out, he had been a winner. He had killed well over 300 warriors in battle, and was a skilled veteran, especially with his weapon of choice: a chain flail with a hook at the other end (see pic). He was, in fact, the main attraction at tomorrow's games. He would be fighting an unknown warrior from Gaul, a warrior who was a living legend to the Gallic people, but who had been captured in battle not long ago. He knew who he was to fight, but he did not know the man's name, nor had he seen his face. He had not been invited to this dinner with the royal family. The royal family.... Batair's thoughts buzzed when he thought of them. If only he could win the good favor of the royal family! Reign, Deodatus, even Asira....if they could find favor in him, he would be free of this burden! Free from having to fight, year after year, free of the threat of death every day, free from his bonds as a slave. His master, the Contesar, would never free him willingly. But if he got in good with the royal family..... They were close to the palace now, and the road was thick with people. The soldiers jostled and pushed, and Batair, a giant among men, roared out in his strongest voice for everyone to move. Slowly, but surely, they made their way through the throng.....
|
|
|
Post by Skye on Feb 18, 2006 20:34:56 GMT -5
As Asira sat and thought to herself, she watched Draai eat the food given. "Agh you are invited to dinner..." she waved her hand dismisvly, "the parents are just going to have to respect my wishes." she nodded with a smile. "But first, you're going to have to be cleaned up." Draai looked right at her. "And you are going to do that if you wish to dine with the best foods to be offered..." Asira crossed her arms, "It starts very soon."
|
|
v
Trooper
Posts: 188
|
Post by v on Feb 19, 2006 12:15:24 GMT -5
"No like water. It smoke. And smell funny." Asira had eventually been forced to hand over Draai to the servants for washing, and they were having no more luck than her. He glared suspiciously at the bath that had been prepared for him, his lip curling slightly, before giving the servants a disgusted glare, as if they had lost their minds. They had, at least, got him to remove part of his clothing, though as to if they could get him to dress in anything other than his furs would likely be another challenge entirely.
"Its not smoke, its steam, and thats because its warm, look." A young male dangled his fingers in the water to try and convince Draai that they weren't trying to hurt him. Apparently convinced, he walked towards the stone bath and literally lept in still clothed, water was sloshed out of the bath and across the floor, though luckily no royal family members were intending to use this bath in the near future. Then he simply sat in the bath, looking from side to side at the servants attending, as if waiting for them tell him what to do next. He eventually removed the other clothes and let them float in the bath with him.
"Food now?" Draai eventually asked, looking at the male servant who had managed to convince him that they were not trying to kill him.
"Just go under for a few minutes, get rid of the smell." Draai looked at the man for a moment as if he had gone insane, before relaxing his body and disappearing under the water
|
|
|
Post by Kai! Kai! on Feb 19, 2006 17:22:36 GMT -5
It was then Meskhenet walking into the bathroom taking in the situation in a glance. Fighting all urges to burth out laughing at the halarity of all that was happening she moved over to one of the atendants and bowed her head once. "Leave, man to me we come from same...." she paused as if groping for the word. "Place..." She shurggeed helplessly but the male servant in charge nodded. "You mean you both come from the same country?" Meskhenet nodded vigirously. "Country, yes!" The head servant frowned for a moment and looked at meskhenet then at the other atendants. "Alrighht but you're on your own. Quite honestly we have better thinngs to do then tend to this barbarian..." meskhenet nodded foolishly and let the men file out before she shut thedoor at stood by it listening. Once she was sure they were gone her foolish servant guise dropped returning to her usual steely appearance. Moving over to the bath she took Draai firmly by hte amr and levered him out furs and all and stood him beside the bath. "Alright Desert Raider lets see if I can't make this easier for you." she said slipping out of her usual greek and speaking in the dialect of the deserts of Egypt. "When they wanted you to bathe they wanted tyou to strip down naked. No furs. no skins..." she moved about him and worked fast stripping Draai down naked before he could even protest and hten shoved him back into the bath sitting him down. "Ok..." she muttered pulling up a stool to sit beside the raised bath. 'The baths aren't so bad but let me tell you it was a shock for me. I got dumped in a well I think and that was cold colder then the Nile..." she stood up and laid out draai's furs in a spot to try and dry out before returning ot her seat by the bath and took up a spounge as she proceeded to wash his back. "Don't take thier need for cleanliness at heart, desert man they just find the smells of the desert offensive ot thier civilized senses..." she sighed. "In truth thier about as cililized as a pack of desert dogs, oh my name is Meskhenet by the way."
|
|
v
Trooper
Posts: 188
|
Post by v on Feb 19, 2006 18:02:10 GMT -5
He stared at her for a few moments, at first dumb struck, before the simple cogs of his brain began to work out what was going on. "Snake." He finnaly stated, possibly to himself, in the Desert Raiders own gutural dialect, though she would likely understand it. No actual word for the Cobras had ever been invented, so instead the slang, somewhat derogatory term used by the civilian populus of Egypt was used instead. "My name is Draai. I am hear because nasty man in gold and silver had a picture of Asira. Nasty man would be paid for her head." Even in his native language, Draais vocabulary was extremely limited, though it was at least slightly more useful for conveying infomation. "Don't like here, people smile too much, animals smile to bite." It took a few moments for Meskhenet to realise why Draai seemed to primitive, even by Desert-Raider standards, yet it was revealed when she spotted a small insignia upon his right shoulder. It looked like he had been branded with an the side of an arrow head. He was one of the Dre'nam, a Sand Raider term meaning alone warrior. Not an outcast from the society, more so one who simply decided to carve his own path in life. They were viewed as the most violent, the most dangerous of all the Raiders. Ones who didn't differentiate between war and peace, only that the former brought more enemies to their hunting grounds. Yet she was left with a strange sensation that the myths had been massively overhyped. Draai wasn't exactly muscular, and he didn't have that aura of malice and power associated with some of the more dangerous individuals on the planet. Draai, with a hair cut and a more normal set of clothes, wouldn't have looked out of place as a peasant.
"I heard that you snakes always dagger'd. Like fangs on a snake." His eye brow arched slightly. "This true?"
|
|
|
Post by Kai! Kai! on Feb 19, 2006 18:15:22 GMT -5
"yes," Meskhenet replied and to emphisise her point she withdrew a curved dagger from the folds of her clothing and showed him before slipping it back inot her cloths. Smiling she continued to bathe Draai. "I have many others but a good assasin doesn't reveal all her weapons. Of course I am in service to both riegn and Asira." her voice was soft as she spoke barely above a whisper but loud enough for it only to be heared between them. The room might well have been without a spy hole (she had checked herself when she first came) but that still didn't mean she wasn't without cuation.
|
|
v
Trooper
Posts: 188
|
Post by v on Feb 20, 2006 13:51:49 GMT -5
Draais mouthed arched slightly into a snarl when he saw the knife, while his face blanched slightly. While he said nothing, it was clear he wasn't happy about suddenly finding himself vunerable. Upon realising his discomfort was becoming visible, he yawned loudly and stretched his arms above his head, before running them through his hair.
"Asira in trouble, you here to stop that? Or are you here for other reason. This long way from Snakes desert." No one had ever truely grasped how Sand Raiders worked out whom owned what. It largely seemed to be based on where the Sand Raiders were was their territory, and where they were not belonged to someone else. The fact that Draai, at least apparently, was referring to the whole of Egypt as the 'Snakes desert' was somewhat strange. Unless it was simply the fact he was so intimidated, and clearly painfully aware of his own vunerability, that he was trying to avoid creating any arguements of conflicts.
|
|
|
Post by Kai! Kai! on Feb 20, 2006 17:43:56 GMT -5
Smiling faintly Meskhenet put the spounge aside and took up one of the glass jars that contained hte fragranced oils and poured some in her hands, rubbing them deflt together she then proceeded to rub the oils into Draai's back with great skill massaging any knots in his back muscles she fpound. "I am here as a gatherer of knowledge and like all snakes I will bite when I have cause..." knowing his discomfort at being unarmed in her precense when she was armed meskhenet added. "I have to qualm with you Draai... as a matter of fact I owe you a favor for informing me of this assasin with the funny cloths... I'll deal with him personaly when I get the chance and then he will learn as all do not to cross the path of a Desert Snake."
|
|
|
Post by Skye on Feb 21, 2006 20:56:51 GMT -5
Asira tapped lightly on the door and poked her head in, surprised to see Meskhenet, but shook it off. She figured she was just getting the update. "The festivities are starting in a few moments, Draai your seat is beside mine." Asira smiled to both of them and left.
The dining hall was sparkling with magic; or so it seemed. The food was amazing and was sitting ready for the gladiators. Asira sat at the end of the table, being the youngest in the family though with Draai attending, he took last place beside her. It didn't matter. When she had informed her parents that she had a personal guest that is staying, her mother was a bit miffed though her father seemed to not care; his focus was on how well dinner went. So there the Royal Family sat, waiting patiently for the gladiators to arrive.
|
|
Archangel
Recruit
And thus did the Archangel descend from Heaven itself...
Posts: 0
|
Post by Archangel on Feb 21, 2006 21:22:19 GMT -5
Batair and the guards and other Gladiators shouldered their way through the crowds, until abruptly they pressed up against a gate, the crowd still thronging around them. The Roman soldiers yelled out a command, and the people backed off just long enough for the palace gates to swing open, and the group quickly passed inside.
Once inside, it was a shock and a surprise to all of them. Compared to the thronging streets outside the palace, the inner grounds were empty, peaceful, and quiet. The large walls drowned out the noise of the street, and it was cooler, more peaceful, and there was green everywhere. They passed through beautifully manicured lawns, by freshly pruned decorative trees, until they finally reached the palace proper. With a sigh, Batair noted how extravagant the place looked. It always looked impressive, no matter how many times he had been here to feast with the royal family. The high columned walls, the broad expanses of marble, the intricate inlays on the doors....it all spoke of vast wealth, comfort, and pride. This was the kind of place a slave like Batair dreamed about.
The Gladiators were brought into the palace, and the soldiers returned to their duties in the city. They went to a special anteroom, walking through columned halls and past intricate tapestries first, and then the dozen or so Gladiators lined up in the anteroom, shoulder to shoulder. A man stepped in front of them. The palace's main Chamberlain.
"Now, for all those who are new tonight, welcome to the Palace! We wish to feast you tonight, to give you a chance to enjoy a real meal before your competition tomorrow. Now, there are a few simple rules you must follow when in the presence of Their Highnesses. First..."
The Chamberlain droned on, the same prepared speech Batair had heard a dozen times before. He merely looked around the room, stifling a great yawn, and examined the tapestries on the walls. One depicted Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome, suckling from the teats of a great she-wolf, their mother. One depicted the god Jupiter, his face stern and solemn, as he looked out over the audience as if disappointed. And one, the one Batair liked the most, was a fanciful depiction of Hercules, the strongest of Roman heroes. With some pride, Batair likened himself to the might Hercules, in stature as well as battle prowess. And he was sure Hercules could have won his way free of oppression, had he ever been captured and forced into slavery. Hercules was Batair's hero, even if he wasn't even of the same culture, because Hercules never gave up, and never appeared weak.
Finally, the Chamberlain's speech was over. The rest of the Gladiators, most of them new to the whole palace feast, gazed with rapt attention and doltish delight. But Batair knew what would come next. Suddenly, with a push, the Chamberlain swung open the doors to the dining hall, and the Gladiators gasped aloud.
The place was immense, first and foremost. Easily the largest room any of them had ever seen, disregarding the pit of the Coliseum, It was at least 20 feet high, with gigantic windows of real glass and murals painted between the windows of all the Roman gods and goddesses. The long table in the center of the room was huge, to them at least, although Batair was sure that it was small compared to the other dining tables of the royal family. And set on it was the greatest feast that these poor, simple slaves had ever seen. Meat haunches the size of calves lay on the the table, beside delicate dessert dishes and flagons of wine. To them, it was like a year's worth of food was arrayed for them on the table in front of them, and none of them felt they could even eat a fraction of it, never mind all of it. Everyone glared at it in awe, and then began moving to their seats.
Everyone except Batair. Batair was no more impressed than usual. He had been to this feast more times than he could count (which wasn't saying much, considering that with all his fingers he couldn't count to 7 for the life of him), and the food didn't look all that amazing to him anymore. But what did look amazing were the royal personages themselves. Batair wanted to impress them so badly, wanted them to favor him so greatly. As the rest of the men settled into their assigned seats, looking at the food hungrily, Batair instead stepped out of line, and made his way towards Emperor Nero. The guards of course stepped out to stop him, their strong arms grabbing his, but he shrugged them off as if they were flies. The Chamberlain was yelling at him, and even the Emperor looked afraid, because the imposing man was so close. But suddenly, the giant Celt dropped to his knee in tribute, bowed his head, and spoke.
"Emper'r Nero, yer Highness. I beg of thee, accept mah humblest requests. I wish ta win my battle tomorrah in your name, Emper'r Nero, and I twill announce it ta the audience that verra mornin. Mah victory will be in your name, if it pleases ye. I am thy humblest's of servan's."
|
|
v
Trooper
Posts: 188
|
Post by v on Feb 22, 2006 16:02:40 GMT -5
No one had managed to get Draa properly dressed, he had ended up back in his original furs, bow strapped around himself, though he at lesat smelt slightly less, and some poor soul had attempted to de-matt his hair. The supposed luxury and splendor was lost to him, all he saw was stone, and colours, and food. It was strange, why would people willingly decide to live this seperated from the elements? And surround themselves with, what, to Draai, was little more than kindling. The stone walls had some sense to them. They would certainly be more useful in permenant settlements than say, wooden walls. Also, why move away from somewhere suitable for the long term and leave it for your enemies?
"Not like city." Draai mummbled to Skye in his own, guttural attempt at the common tongue. Even more baffling was the fighting slaves, gladiators they called them, walking into the hall, one of which apparently ignoring the requests of their masters and walking up to the Emperor. Draai smiled slightly to himself, instantly feeling a warming towards the gladiator. He wasn't sure where the man was from, but such actions. Surely he had some Raider blood somewhere in his veins?
|
|
|
Post by Skye on Feb 23, 2006 20:40:17 GMT -5
Asira watched her father as he grinned and agreed to the request in great happiness, blowing the gladiator a kiss of thanks. "He's fought many of battles," she said to Draai, "one of the best gladiators i've seen. His name is Batair." She saw many gladiators eyeing her, others eyeing the food laid out infront of them. She avoided their gazes, as much as she liked these gatherings she always felt uncomfortable.
|
|
|
Post by Caligo [Inactive] on Feb 23, 2006 21:47:06 GMT -5
Not all gladiators are slaves...www40.brinkster.com/caligoxstar/picsite/AZR5.htmAs if to crash the wave of unrest that had just begun, the doors to the hall opened once more with some amount of commotion. Guards were walking before what appeared to be an uninvited guest, but he did have an invitation in his hand. The blond man in red and black armor came to a halt at the end of the table and simply looked around. He flicked back his crimson scarf revealing a debonair smile, "...Guess I'm late..." The royal guards were having a fit about the man because of his armor and weapons still adorning his back - a pair of nodachis, one in a red scabbard, one in a black one. He gave the service bow to the royal family before swatting at one of the guards that got too close. The warrior put the paper in the man's face and pushed him back, "Leave me; go show that to your masters and know that Altair is indeed here to take part in these most honorable festivities," he turned to the royal family with a grin, "and games..."
|
|
|
Post by Skye on Feb 23, 2006 21:59:38 GMT -5
Asira looked to the new comer, she had never seen this man before and as the letter was presented to her father, he simply nodded, "Welcome my fellow man, please sit and enjoy the food."
|
|
|
Post by Kai! Kai! on Feb 23, 2006 22:01:51 GMT -5
Meskhenet stoon in the shadows of the great hall watching all that was going on. It was what she did without fail, she would watch and wait and watch some more until the time was right. until the time was such that she could drive her dagger home inot the blakc hears of that vile man Asira had the misfortune of calling a brother. That particular killing would come free of charge. As she watched she was amused by the gladiator who so boldly marched forward nad pledged his service ot the Emporor. A bold man, she mused behind her mask of a servant. Brave and coragous I think... the kind of man one would like to have as an ally... if he survived the battles to come. She was about to return to her dutied hwen another man walked in, she almost lost her self control then and laughed as the audasity of him to barge in as he did and speak such but then again it was a little entertainment ofr hte long night ahead and hte even longer time she would spend afterwards doing her job... Turning away now she returned to her duties of serving food and pouring wine for those who asked of it while avoiding the hands of men that had she ever the chance would lose then utterly and much more...
|
|