The trip to Ludus was painful and quite daunting, Claudia wondering more than once if it would not have been more prudent to just die with her father and his men and yet she found herself wanting vengeance which fueled her actions and thoughts. Her skin was covered in dirt and mud, a few bruises lined her rib cage from loosing a few hits with other members of her group the day before and having still been recovering from capture, she was a little worn. The dark circles under her eyes spoke of retreat and exhaustion, but the gleam in her gaze showed that she would not hit the ground without a fight. That is however what they expected of her and being from where she was and who's name she carried, the idea of killing in the name of sport was nauseating. Fighting was for freedom and rights, not to please men and women to sick to find joy in the regular occurrences of life. She felt her lip curl up as the large well-developed "trainers" in front of them began to talk amongst themselves, the others in her group speaking a bit to one another, but she had nothing to say. 

The only thing she had in common with them was captivity. 

Her eyes moved from the people before her to the edge of the training area, the large home of one of them rising up in the background. The area was created to keep slaves in and welcome no one's prying eyes. Escaping was going to be more than tricky and yet she refused to allow any thought of not getting away to enter her mind. She'd heard stories and tales of the great gladiators that won their freedom in the arena's and she would too, if slipping out of the walls and running as far as she could didn't work out first. Claudia looked toward the large man beside her, his body covered in various drawings of sorts. He was much to jovial for the situation at hand in her own opinion. Perhaps his life before this one was worse than slavery? There were things much more devastating than being owned. 

A quick pull against her chains threw her from her reverie about where the others might be from or who they lost in their struggle to get here and had her attention focused on the handsome older trainer, his voice strong and full of conviction. The large man beside him caused her stomach to tighten in fear. His abuse was clear and that he enjoyed beating the air only gave her a glimpse at the future of what she might be up against in terms of foe's to conquer and fears to embrace. Claudia flinched at the harshness of his words, her own people never speaking of sex or adoration in such a manner. She would be most pleased by cutting his filthy tongue from his face and forcing him to eat it, but that time would surely come. 

Who would hope to be a God only to have the true one strike you down and dismantle your pseudo glory in the fires of hell?

The other male was no better, his look of dignity was quickly embellished by the words from his tongue. Claudia remained locked in her facade of control and dominance and yet uttered not a word, unwilling to play the game before it was pressed against her. She looked to the female trainer and wondered how a beautiful woman would allow herself to be raised into a mindless brute that killed for sport and probably had her share of things best left unsaid. With hands clasped tightly together she watched the scene before her, the Gladiator showing his strength and cunningness with no more than a few subtle movements of his mammoth arms. 

It was a farce and a rather sick one, but something inside of her wanted to challenge him, not because she believed his claim that she could be free, but so she could hit him one time and feel the peace of knowing that he was in fact human. Monsters... all of them. As others moved forward she simply stood with her shoulders square and let her eyes move up the hill and over the sharp cliffs to find the warmth of the sun, closing her eyes and letting herself listen to the sounds of their feet as the next "show" began its sequencing.