L
lostfaith
Guest
Original poster
The cheer of the crowds. The sting of a sword biting into your side. The weight of your own blade as it is driven into another man's skull. Light reflecting off gilded armor at high noon, then darkness as you are herded back into a windowless cell, chained once again.
These things comprise the life of a gladiator, one who lives for combat. A few enter the industry willingly, signing on with sponsors and captains and fighting for pay and the adoration of the masses. Most are not so fortunate. Prisoners of war, convicts, the downtrodden. Most gladiators are slaves, fighting for their very survival. Execution awaits them if they do not fight, and death or victory awaits them if they do. But whether or not their blood stains the ground and they are allowed to live to continue drawing in profit for their master or their foe lies defeated before them, they are once again caged. A never ending cycle of bright light and then darkness, until the arena master decides that they are to die. Whether they die on the battlefield, their last sight their foe's blade in their gut, or die bound and beaten, executed for an offense against their master, they all die eventually.
But that's no reason not to live.
You are a gladiator, a slave to some noble or wealthy merchant. What you were before is irrelevant, be it mercenary, soldier, or serf. Now your life is used as fodder to draw in coin for your master and entertain the unwashed masses. Your home is a small cell beneath the arena, one of dozens. You only see sunlight in two places: The battlefield, and the training yard. You are perhaps not treated as badly as other slaves, being fed healthy food and allowed time to exercise, measures meant to keep you in top fighting shape. But you are as likely to go under the whip as any other slave, and your life is far more dangerous than their's. Some gladiators are loyal to their masters, hoping that one day they will be gracious enough to free them or improve their living conditions. Others spit in their owner's face and are only kept alive for the profit they bring in the arena. Whether you are loyal or not is your own choice, whether you choose to retain what little pride and dignity you have left or grovel before the feet of those who call themselves superior. It makes no difference when you are on the battlefield.
The Arena:
The arena is a vast complex of buildings and compounds housing hundreds of slaves as well as an equal amount of guards. There are few places you will see of it, as a gladiator, and these places are your home.
Your cell: This is where you spend the night. It is small, barely livable with only the barest of amenities. Food is delivered to you once in the morning and once in the day. It is one of many, and other prisoners can always be seen in the nearby cells, although socializing is discouraged by the guards that perpetually roam the hallways.
The Training Yard: This is where your mornings are spent. At dawn, after your breakfast, you are herded en masse into one of several large fields of sand and dirt, as assigned to your wing of the building. There are other slaves here, and this is your only real opportunity to interact with them. You are given armor and blunt replicas of your usual weapons and allowed to spar with other slaves or train alone. However, lethal combat or attacking a guard is a quick path to the torturer's rack or under the whip.
The Arena: The battlefield that gives the place its name. There are several, so that multiple fights can be conducted at once. They are always large, but designed so that platforms and iron walls can be set up to restrict the fighting area. The terrain is always sand or dirt, barren of vegetation. While you don't fight ever day, those days that you do you are brought here. If you survive, you are carried back into your cell.
The Duels:
While one on one, gladiator vs gladiator duels are the most common, there are several types.
One Vs One: One man against one other man, using whatever weapons and armor their master (or in some cases, the slave) prefers. These either end at first blood, or to defeat. When one combatant is clearly defeated, usually laying bleeding on the ground and unable to fight, the arena master decrees whether or not they should live. The outcome is often influenced by heavy bribes toward him, urging him to cause the death or allow the life of certain slaves. Regardless, killing an opponent in any way without the permission of the arena master will lead to your execution. This is showmanship, and a quick fight isn't entertaining.
Group Fights: Less common, group fights include entire companies of gladiators, usually freemen, fighting others. Slaves have no such organizations and thus do not usually participate in these, but sometimes owners will make deals to create temporary groups for these matches, which are favored by the crowd. They are especially dangerous, as the rule against killing does not apply except towards the last combatant on a team, and they are usually killed for the dramatic effect regardless.
Man against beast: Eilos is a strange place, inhabited by stranger creatures. Mundane animals are put to shame by the fearsome abominations of nature that dwell the deepest parts of the wilderness. Often, these creatures are seemingly hybrids of various animals, or resemble nothing else on Eilos. Their one shared trait is that they are dangerous. These creatures are routinely captured and used for fights against the most successful gladiators, battles that are not moderated at all. No one will save you if you lose, and no one cares if you kill the beast before you.
Chariot Races: Held at the summer solstice, the chariot races are the high point of arena life. Tracks are built around the largest arenas, then beaten into the dirt by the wheels of the great chariots. Slaves are always paired with one other, and anything goes. All weapons a slave or their master chooses to bring are permitted, as is killing or disrupting other racers. Every chariot is manned by two slaves, paired by their owners. One drives the chariot, steering the warhorses that pull it, and the other carries weapons, usually javelins and longspears, to use against enemies both nearby and afar.
Eilos:
Eilos is a low-magic fantasy world of three nations, only one of which is relevant to the gladiators in the arena.
Eilos: Sharing the name of the continent, the largest empire is a tyranny built on slavery, constantly at war with other countries. The arena is situated in the capital city, Eisen.
Aurus: Laying to the west of Eilos, Aurus is a mercenary country always fighting its neighbors. All of its soldiers are for hire, and many of them have found their way, after battles they lost, into the hands of Eilosian slavers.
Virilan: East of Eilos is Virilan, a great tract of forests led by the so called Sorcerer-King, a man said ot be able to use the fabled art of magic. It is a reclusive nation, not wealthy enough to interest Eilos, so few know the truth.
Character Sheet:
Characters:
Vansalon:
Name: Thalia Verde
Age: 29
Appearance: Thalia is of about average height (five feet, three inches), and has a sturdy, but not stocky build. Her brown skin manages to retain a healthy color despite the darkness of her cell, courtesy of her time spent in the harsh sun of Aurus. Her hair is dark brown, messy, and longer than is practical for combat (because it's all about appearances in blood sport). Her eyes are brown-hazel. Her armor consists of a sleeveless breastplate, exaggerated pauldrons, gauntlets, greaves that still leave her upper legs bare, and armored boots. She has several scars on each arm and her legs, courtesy of previous battles, in addition to one on the side of her head, just below the ear, where an axe almost killed her.
Personality: Thalia is a contradiction of simultaneously hot-headed and resigned. Her face always betrays her perpetual anger and hatred, but she does little else to express it. Her movements outside of combat are stiff and small, and her tone, when she speaks, drips with venom. She is surprisingly timid when not in the arena, avoiding eye contact with guards or other slaves and tending toward training alone or practically hiding in a corner. Her seemingly reserved nature gives way to ferocity when she is particularly angered, which usually escalates to violence.
Backstory: Thalia was raised by a barmaid in a small town of Aurus. Her father was a mercenary, but she never met him. Her mother told her stories, of course, stories that encouraged her to one day follow in his footsteps. When she turned sixteen, adulthood in the mercenary country, she quietly crept into the blacksmith's shop at night and stole the weapon that would become her signature. She also filched food and coin from other places, and then silently left the town, never to return there. While she had a very minimal experience with the sword through random practice in her youth, she still almost died when she was set on by a highwayman. As it was, she was wounded and managed only to break his defenses because he wasn't prepared for a left handed opponent. Binding her wounds and pilfering his shield, she continued her aimless travels, slowly gaining experience. She sought a tutor at one of the larger towns in Aurus, trading what money she had managed to gather for instruction in the sword that took almost two years. She was a competent fighter by the end of that period, and as she began mercenary work, mostly against bandits and the like, she began to shape her style into the distinctively weird one it is today.
After years in that occupation, she eventually signed on with a mercenary company that was traveling to Eilos to assist a batallion of Aurus' soldiers in guerilla warfare, which turned out to be the worst mistake of her life. While her first few battles were successes, breaking the Empire's supply line in crucial places, the Imperial army soon hunted them down and struck back, obliterating the batallion and taking the survivors prisoner. Thalia was one of these. She was sold to a group of slavers that had hovered at the edge of the battlefield like vultures, as they always do. Since then, she hasn't gone a day without a collar on her neck.
The slaves in turn sold her to a shrewd Eilosian merchant prince heavily involved in the gladiator industry. At first, Thalia spit in his face and tried to strangle him with her chains. She very nearly succeeded. One of his bodyguards almost killed her, but the merchant prince ordered him away. Due to her background, he tried to get her to fight in the arena, but she attacked the guards as soon as her weapons were handed to her, killing one and wounding several and then attempting to escape. He saved her life once again, as normally that would be a death sentence. He recognized that she could be an amazing gladiator, she just needed a little...encouragement.
It was the torture that broke her.
After that, she was sent to the arena again, bearing several new scars, both mental and physical, and this time she almost sullenly knocked her opponent, an experienced fighter, flat. She became a crowd favorite within several more successful battles, and has become her owner's ace card, the gladiator he always bets on and uses when he's trying to cripple the competition by causing the death of a certain other fighter. Thalia's anger was now partially redirected to fear, but she still unleashed all of her ferocity on her opponents, going nearly undefeated in the year she has been there.
Weapons: Thalia wields a curved sword called a scimitar, as well as a round metal shield.
Fighting Style: Thalia is left handed, a fact which shapes her entire fighting style. The vast majority of combatants are right handed, which means their tactics and stance are meant to fight right handed opponents, particularly sword and shield users. Thalia's attacks come in from the left instead of the right, giving her an odd angle that forces her foes to adapt their strategy. She has become a master of taking advantage of this, intentionally attacking in odd, nonsensical ways, usually brief swings that don't leave her open. While this style would be utterly useless if she was right handed, her uncommon primary hand means she's always attacking the less defended side of a shielded opponent and keeping them off balance by not giving them room to use their weapon. Because she excels in such short range combat, she always closes as fast as possible and goes on the offensive, using her shield to approach safely before launching into her characteristic style.
Other Notes:
Penguin055:
Name: Regil Amareus
Age: 24
Appearance: Regil is about five and a half feet and slightly thin. His face is usually covered in an expression of fear and nervousness. He has fairly short black hair and hazel eyes.
Personality: Regil is a natural coward. He fears death and pain above all and is very shy and timid. He is quite scatterbrained but can hold himself together under pressure. His loyalty to his owner is nothing more than fear, and he takes every opportunity he can to suck up to him.
Backstory: Regil is one of many enslaved Aurus soldiers, but most would say he deserved it. He was captured after deserting the army, and was sold to a wealthy owner soon after.
Weapons: Regil uses either a spear and shield or a bow and arrow, as he likes to stay as far as possible from the enemy.
Fighting Style: On the battlefield, Regil usually lets others do the dirty work for him. He tends to stay towards the back in groups. When he must fight, he is very defensive and waits for a good opportunity to strike his opponent. He takes very few risks and is usually focused on not getting hurt.
Other Notes:
RisingSolaris:
Name: Lionel Feroce
Age: 32
Appearance: Lionel has short, dirty blonde hair that's spiked up. However, his hair is covered by a steel helmet that has two bull horns jutting out of its sides and a third sharp horn pointing towards the sky. His eyes are blue, and they're shielded by a mask attached to his helmet. He has a muscular build from years of training and fighting, and stands about 200 centimeters tall. His jawline is covered in stubble. His body is riddled with scars that are completely visible as Lionel wears no armor on his chest. Already dragged down by his heavy weapon, he chooses to lose some protection for a bit more mobility instead. He wears gauntlets made from the fur of a bear and thick winter boots, as well as thick, baggy pants that held up by a bloodied cloth tied around his waist.
Personality: Lionel gets angry easily, and is generally cold to other slaves. However, he does have a soft spot for children. In battle, he shows no emotion as to not give any advantages to his opponent. While he doesn't particularly like his owner, he does not despise him, either. After all, his owner saved his life.
Backstory: Even before Lionel became a gladiator, he was a street urchin, stealing and fighting for survival. He'd seen the death of many other children like him, and became jaded to the sight of death. He often had to fight soldiers and adults after stealing, so he was experienced in fighting fist to fist.
There came a day when he killed a soldier by beating him to death with a large stone. Injured and covered with both the soldier's blood and his own, he was taken in by the soldier's companions, who were previously frozen by terror of the young Lionel's roar. However, he was taken to a prison nearby and beaten for his crimes. He was to be executed the following morning.
However, a rich noble, pleased by his combat skills, bought him instead and promised Lionel a life of luxury if he could win battles. Lionel, seeing an opportunity for survival, followed the noble. While he was adept in weaponless combat, his owner knew that he would be at an obvious disadvantage without a weapon. The use of warhammers was, quite literally, drilled into Lionel. Through this pain, he learned both how to take and dish out powerful strikes from blunt weapons. At the end of his training, his owner was pleased with what he had learned, and rewarded him with a "bec de corbin," a special war hammer that was designed to give its owner not only a blunt weapon but a sharp weapon as well.
Ever since, Lionel has been a powerful slave who wins nearly all of his fights for his owner.
Weapons: Lionel wields a "bec de corbin," a war hammer with sharp beak-like blade opposite to the blunt side of the weapon.
Fighting Style: Lionel usually swings recklessly with his weapon, leaving little opportunity for opponents to attack. When he makes a forehand or upward swing with his bec de corbin, he catches his opponents with the sharp beak. However, this strike is usually followed by a swift backhand or downward swing that strikes the opponent with the blunt side, taking their breath away. While he is most comfortable with his hammer, he is just as adept with his fists, and is not afraid to engage in fist-to-fist combat. He often also lets out a roar similar to that of a bear's to intimidate his foes.
Other Notes:
These things comprise the life of a gladiator, one who lives for combat. A few enter the industry willingly, signing on with sponsors and captains and fighting for pay and the adoration of the masses. Most are not so fortunate. Prisoners of war, convicts, the downtrodden. Most gladiators are slaves, fighting for their very survival. Execution awaits them if they do not fight, and death or victory awaits them if they do. But whether or not their blood stains the ground and they are allowed to live to continue drawing in profit for their master or their foe lies defeated before them, they are once again caged. A never ending cycle of bright light and then darkness, until the arena master decides that they are to die. Whether they die on the battlefield, their last sight their foe's blade in their gut, or die bound and beaten, executed for an offense against their master, they all die eventually.
But that's no reason not to live.
You are a gladiator, a slave to some noble or wealthy merchant. What you were before is irrelevant, be it mercenary, soldier, or serf. Now your life is used as fodder to draw in coin for your master and entertain the unwashed masses. Your home is a small cell beneath the arena, one of dozens. You only see sunlight in two places: The battlefield, and the training yard. You are perhaps not treated as badly as other slaves, being fed healthy food and allowed time to exercise, measures meant to keep you in top fighting shape. But you are as likely to go under the whip as any other slave, and your life is far more dangerous than their's. Some gladiators are loyal to their masters, hoping that one day they will be gracious enough to free them or improve their living conditions. Others spit in their owner's face and are only kept alive for the profit they bring in the arena. Whether you are loyal or not is your own choice, whether you choose to retain what little pride and dignity you have left or grovel before the feet of those who call themselves superior. It makes no difference when you are on the battlefield.
The Arena:
The arena is a vast complex of buildings and compounds housing hundreds of slaves as well as an equal amount of guards. There are few places you will see of it, as a gladiator, and these places are your home.
Your cell: This is where you spend the night. It is small, barely livable with only the barest of amenities. Food is delivered to you once in the morning and once in the day. It is one of many, and other prisoners can always be seen in the nearby cells, although socializing is discouraged by the guards that perpetually roam the hallways.
The Training Yard: This is where your mornings are spent. At dawn, after your breakfast, you are herded en masse into one of several large fields of sand and dirt, as assigned to your wing of the building. There are other slaves here, and this is your only real opportunity to interact with them. You are given armor and blunt replicas of your usual weapons and allowed to spar with other slaves or train alone. However, lethal combat or attacking a guard is a quick path to the torturer's rack or under the whip.
The Arena: The battlefield that gives the place its name. There are several, so that multiple fights can be conducted at once. They are always large, but designed so that platforms and iron walls can be set up to restrict the fighting area. The terrain is always sand or dirt, barren of vegetation. While you don't fight ever day, those days that you do you are brought here. If you survive, you are carried back into your cell.
The Duels:
While one on one, gladiator vs gladiator duels are the most common, there are several types.
One Vs One: One man against one other man, using whatever weapons and armor their master (or in some cases, the slave) prefers. These either end at first blood, or to defeat. When one combatant is clearly defeated, usually laying bleeding on the ground and unable to fight, the arena master decrees whether or not they should live. The outcome is often influenced by heavy bribes toward him, urging him to cause the death or allow the life of certain slaves. Regardless, killing an opponent in any way without the permission of the arena master will lead to your execution. This is showmanship, and a quick fight isn't entertaining.
Group Fights: Less common, group fights include entire companies of gladiators, usually freemen, fighting others. Slaves have no such organizations and thus do not usually participate in these, but sometimes owners will make deals to create temporary groups for these matches, which are favored by the crowd. They are especially dangerous, as the rule against killing does not apply except towards the last combatant on a team, and they are usually killed for the dramatic effect regardless.
Man against beast: Eilos is a strange place, inhabited by stranger creatures. Mundane animals are put to shame by the fearsome abominations of nature that dwell the deepest parts of the wilderness. Often, these creatures are seemingly hybrids of various animals, or resemble nothing else on Eilos. Their one shared trait is that they are dangerous. These creatures are routinely captured and used for fights against the most successful gladiators, battles that are not moderated at all. No one will save you if you lose, and no one cares if you kill the beast before you.
Chariot Races: Held at the summer solstice, the chariot races are the high point of arena life. Tracks are built around the largest arenas, then beaten into the dirt by the wheels of the great chariots. Slaves are always paired with one other, and anything goes. All weapons a slave or their master chooses to bring are permitted, as is killing or disrupting other racers. Every chariot is manned by two slaves, paired by their owners. One drives the chariot, steering the warhorses that pull it, and the other carries weapons, usually javelins and longspears, to use against enemies both nearby and afar.
Eilos:
Eilos is a low-magic fantasy world of three nations, only one of which is relevant to the gladiators in the arena.
Eilos: Sharing the name of the continent, the largest empire is a tyranny built on slavery, constantly at war with other countries. The arena is situated in the capital city, Eisen.
Aurus: Laying to the west of Eilos, Aurus is a mercenary country always fighting its neighbors. All of its soldiers are for hire, and many of them have found their way, after battles they lost, into the hands of Eilosian slavers.
Virilan: East of Eilos is Virilan, a great tract of forests led by the so called Sorcerer-King, a man said ot be able to use the fabled art of magic. It is a reclusive nation, not wealthy enough to interest Eilos, so few know the truth.
1. Obey the GM. That's me.
2. Don't god mod. Your character is not invincible, even if they think they are.
3. Don't power-mod, which is taking control of other's characters, without permission.
4. Use adequate grammar, third person, and past tense.
5. Be realistic. You can't survive a sword to the head, and major injuries put you at a high risk of bleeding out if the battle drags on.
2. Don't god mod. Your character is not invincible, even if they think they are.
3. Don't power-mod, which is taking control of other's characters, without permission.
4. Use adequate grammar, third person, and past tense.
5. Be realistic. You can't survive a sword to the head, and major injuries put you at a high risk of bleeding out if the battle drags on.
Character Sheet:
Code:
[b]Name:[/b] (Your character's first and last name, although they are usually just referred to as "slave".)
[b]Age:[/b] (At least eighteen, child slaves never fight in the arena.)
[b]Appearance:[/b] (Your character's physical appearance. While they are only given rags and a slave collar to wear outside of combat, in the arena they have whatever armor their owner has selected for them, usually flashier than it is practical.)
[b]Personality:[/b] (How your character acts, likes, dislikes, whatever. Also, loyalty to their owner.)
[b]Backstory:[/b] (Their life before they became a gladiator, whether they were always a slave or not.)
[b]Weapons:[/b] (Usually chosen by slaves, as they know best what weapons they are able to wield competently. Projectile weapons are not allowed in one versus one battles, but are fair game in any other kind. I encourage diversity here; I don't want ten people using swords. Also, be as specific as possible. If you're using a poleärm, for example, do your research and specify exactly what kind it is.)
[b]Fighting Style:[/b] (The most important part of combat. How does your character fight? Aggressively, defensively? What is their strategy?)
[b]Other Notes:[/b] (Anything that doesn't go somewhere else.)Characters:
Vansalon:
Name: Thalia Verde
Age: 29
Appearance: Thalia is of about average height (five feet, three inches), and has a sturdy, but not stocky build. Her brown skin manages to retain a healthy color despite the darkness of her cell, courtesy of her time spent in the harsh sun of Aurus. Her hair is dark brown, messy, and longer than is practical for combat (because it's all about appearances in blood sport). Her eyes are brown-hazel. Her armor consists of a sleeveless breastplate, exaggerated pauldrons, gauntlets, greaves that still leave her upper legs bare, and armored boots. She has several scars on each arm and her legs, courtesy of previous battles, in addition to one on the side of her head, just below the ear, where an axe almost killed her.
Personality: Thalia is a contradiction of simultaneously hot-headed and resigned. Her face always betrays her perpetual anger and hatred, but she does little else to express it. Her movements outside of combat are stiff and small, and her tone, when she speaks, drips with venom. She is surprisingly timid when not in the arena, avoiding eye contact with guards or other slaves and tending toward training alone or practically hiding in a corner. Her seemingly reserved nature gives way to ferocity when she is particularly angered, which usually escalates to violence.
Backstory: Thalia was raised by a barmaid in a small town of Aurus. Her father was a mercenary, but she never met him. Her mother told her stories, of course, stories that encouraged her to one day follow in his footsteps. When she turned sixteen, adulthood in the mercenary country, she quietly crept into the blacksmith's shop at night and stole the weapon that would become her signature. She also filched food and coin from other places, and then silently left the town, never to return there. While she had a very minimal experience with the sword through random practice in her youth, she still almost died when she was set on by a highwayman. As it was, she was wounded and managed only to break his defenses because he wasn't prepared for a left handed opponent. Binding her wounds and pilfering his shield, she continued her aimless travels, slowly gaining experience. She sought a tutor at one of the larger towns in Aurus, trading what money she had managed to gather for instruction in the sword that took almost two years. She was a competent fighter by the end of that period, and as she began mercenary work, mostly against bandits and the like, she began to shape her style into the distinctively weird one it is today.
After years in that occupation, she eventually signed on with a mercenary company that was traveling to Eilos to assist a batallion of Aurus' soldiers in guerilla warfare, which turned out to be the worst mistake of her life. While her first few battles were successes, breaking the Empire's supply line in crucial places, the Imperial army soon hunted them down and struck back, obliterating the batallion and taking the survivors prisoner. Thalia was one of these. She was sold to a group of slavers that had hovered at the edge of the battlefield like vultures, as they always do. Since then, she hasn't gone a day without a collar on her neck.
The slaves in turn sold her to a shrewd Eilosian merchant prince heavily involved in the gladiator industry. At first, Thalia spit in his face and tried to strangle him with her chains. She very nearly succeeded. One of his bodyguards almost killed her, but the merchant prince ordered him away. Due to her background, he tried to get her to fight in the arena, but she attacked the guards as soon as her weapons were handed to her, killing one and wounding several and then attempting to escape. He saved her life once again, as normally that would be a death sentence. He recognized that she could be an amazing gladiator, she just needed a little...encouragement.
It was the torture that broke her.
After that, she was sent to the arena again, bearing several new scars, both mental and physical, and this time she almost sullenly knocked her opponent, an experienced fighter, flat. She became a crowd favorite within several more successful battles, and has become her owner's ace card, the gladiator he always bets on and uses when he's trying to cripple the competition by causing the death of a certain other fighter. Thalia's anger was now partially redirected to fear, but she still unleashed all of her ferocity on her opponents, going nearly undefeated in the year she has been there.
Weapons: Thalia wields a curved sword called a scimitar, as well as a round metal shield.
Fighting Style: Thalia is left handed, a fact which shapes her entire fighting style. The vast majority of combatants are right handed, which means their tactics and stance are meant to fight right handed opponents, particularly sword and shield users. Thalia's attacks come in from the left instead of the right, giving her an odd angle that forces her foes to adapt their strategy. She has become a master of taking advantage of this, intentionally attacking in odd, nonsensical ways, usually brief swings that don't leave her open. While this style would be utterly useless if she was right handed, her uncommon primary hand means she's always attacking the less defended side of a shielded opponent and keeping them off balance by not giving them room to use their weapon. Because she excels in such short range combat, she always closes as fast as possible and goes on the offensive, using her shield to approach safely before launching into her characteristic style.
Other Notes:
Penguin055:
Name: Regil Amareus
Age: 24
Appearance: Regil is about five and a half feet and slightly thin. His face is usually covered in an expression of fear and nervousness. He has fairly short black hair and hazel eyes.
Personality: Regil is a natural coward. He fears death and pain above all and is very shy and timid. He is quite scatterbrained but can hold himself together under pressure. His loyalty to his owner is nothing more than fear, and he takes every opportunity he can to suck up to him.
Backstory: Regil is one of many enslaved Aurus soldiers, but most would say he deserved it. He was captured after deserting the army, and was sold to a wealthy owner soon after.
Weapons: Regil uses either a spear and shield or a bow and arrow, as he likes to stay as far as possible from the enemy.
Fighting Style: On the battlefield, Regil usually lets others do the dirty work for him. He tends to stay towards the back in groups. When he must fight, he is very defensive and waits for a good opportunity to strike his opponent. He takes very few risks and is usually focused on not getting hurt.
Other Notes:
RisingSolaris:
Name: Lionel Feroce
Age: 32
Appearance: Lionel has short, dirty blonde hair that's spiked up. However, his hair is covered by a steel helmet that has two bull horns jutting out of its sides and a third sharp horn pointing towards the sky. His eyes are blue, and they're shielded by a mask attached to his helmet. He has a muscular build from years of training and fighting, and stands about 200 centimeters tall. His jawline is covered in stubble. His body is riddled with scars that are completely visible as Lionel wears no armor on his chest. Already dragged down by his heavy weapon, he chooses to lose some protection for a bit more mobility instead. He wears gauntlets made from the fur of a bear and thick winter boots, as well as thick, baggy pants that held up by a bloodied cloth tied around his waist.
Personality: Lionel gets angry easily, and is generally cold to other slaves. However, he does have a soft spot for children. In battle, he shows no emotion as to not give any advantages to his opponent. While he doesn't particularly like his owner, he does not despise him, either. After all, his owner saved his life.
Backstory: Even before Lionel became a gladiator, he was a street urchin, stealing and fighting for survival. He'd seen the death of many other children like him, and became jaded to the sight of death. He often had to fight soldiers and adults after stealing, so he was experienced in fighting fist to fist.
There came a day when he killed a soldier by beating him to death with a large stone. Injured and covered with both the soldier's blood and his own, he was taken in by the soldier's companions, who were previously frozen by terror of the young Lionel's roar. However, he was taken to a prison nearby and beaten for his crimes. He was to be executed the following morning.
However, a rich noble, pleased by his combat skills, bought him instead and promised Lionel a life of luxury if he could win battles. Lionel, seeing an opportunity for survival, followed the noble. While he was adept in weaponless combat, his owner knew that he would be at an obvious disadvantage without a weapon. The use of warhammers was, quite literally, drilled into Lionel. Through this pain, he learned both how to take and dish out powerful strikes from blunt weapons. At the end of his training, his owner was pleased with what he had learned, and rewarded him with a "bec de corbin," a special war hammer that was designed to give its owner not only a blunt weapon but a sharp weapon as well.
Ever since, Lionel has been a powerful slave who wins nearly all of his fights for his owner.
Weapons: Lionel wields a "bec de corbin," a war hammer with sharp beak-like blade opposite to the blunt side of the weapon.
Fighting Style: Lionel usually swings recklessly with his weapon, leaving little opportunity for opponents to attack. When he makes a forehand or upward swing with his bec de corbin, he catches his opponents with the sharp beak. However, this strike is usually followed by a swift backhand or downward swing that strikes the opponent with the blunt side, taking their breath away. While he is most comfortable with his hammer, he is just as adept with his fists, and is not afraid to engage in fist-to-fist combat. He often also lets out a roar similar to that of a bear's to intimidate his foes.
Other Notes:
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