Age: XXXIV (34)

Sex: Masculum

Military Rank: Legion Legate of Legio XIII

Appearance: Aulus is a well built, in shape man, befitting of a leader in the proud Roman legion. He stands two inches under six feet in height, constantly displaying a disciplined, firm posture. His eyes are a dark green, his skin tanned slightly from years of exposure due to military service. His black hair is buzzed short and light stubble dots his jawline. Scars mark along his body, a particularly notable on on his left forearm from a long since healed dagger wound.

Personality:

Skills:

• Aulus has served in the legion for over two decades, this shows in his skill with his blade, spear and shield. He's a truly fearsome close range combatant.
• He's a great tactician, having studied under several brilliant ones in the past. Even in his early days in the legion he showed a talent for battle tactics.
• He knows well how to command and inspire his men most effectively. Back in Rome he is of the senatorial class, and charisma is something of a necessity.
• He's an intensely brave person, one that will stand by his convictions no matter how unpopular. He's been known to get right in front line combat with his legion, commanding them from there.
• Even in the face of uncertainty or possible defeat Aulus is known for his almost eerie calmness. He does not break rank or show any signs of fear of failure.

Flaws:

• Aulus is a very strict legate, one that will not hesitate to dish out punishments to misbehaving legionaries under his command. This has earned him a reputation of a harsh military commander. He does not do this unjustly though, every person he's handed punishment to has in his eyes deserved it.
• He's a direct and blunt individual, someone that does not mince words. He values honesty and practices this value, it sometimes comes out in utter bluntness.
• He's intensely judgmental of those that have failed him even once. To him, in this regard they are a failure until they have properly made up for it. Even then he will remind them of their past failures.
• While it is not widely known, Aulus is a highly ambitious man. One that dreams of becoming someone powerful in Rome, possibly even Emperor. He sees many faults in the way the Empire is run.
• He's not used to failure, or defeat. He's experienced it before in his military career, but it is a rarity for him. This has brought him a sense of arrogance and overconfidence.
• He doesn't show any remorse for those he's killed or his soldiers have killed. An enemy is exactly that, and deserves nothing. He'd burn down an entire city if it meant it guaranteed victor for the legion.

Backstory: (A few paragraphs explaining their life to this point. Don't have to go super in depth.)

Age: XXXII (32)

Sex: Feminam

Occupation: Princess of the Roman Empire

Appearance: A strikingly pretty woman with a lean frame, Princess Annia's most notable features are her long red hair and her hazel colored eyes. Typically clad in fine regal dresses and robes, she has no shame in flaunting her status. A golden necklace hangs around her neck and on her hands she wears multiple rings of expensive jewels.

Personality:

Equipment: Annia does not carry much other than her clothing, though she does keep a small concealed dagger on herself at all times, in case of danger.

Skills:

• She's highly educated by Roman standards, possessing a firm grasp of politics and social etiquette.
• She's a pretty ambitious woman, one that dreams to be more than just the wife of a noble or senator. She knows she has royal blood in her veins and is intent on capitalizing upon that. She's driven in pursuit of her goals.
• Annia is a charismatic speaker, a natural charmer. It runs in her royal bloodline.
• Due to her status as a sister of the Emperor, Annia has connections with some of the most powerful people in Rome. Her family name carries power.

Flaws:

• She's not physically that strong, and due to her status as a woman has zero combat training.
• Due to her the imprisonment and imminent execution of her children and husband she is at the moment grief stricken, her emotions are a bit unstable.
• Knowing only a life of privilege and wealth, Annia is a bit naive when it comes to the life of the smallfolk. She tends to look down upon the common men and women of the Empire.
• She'll lie if it means it might give her an advantage.

Backstory: (A few paragraphs explaining their life to this point. Don't have to go super in depth.)

Age: XXIII

Sex: Masculum

Military Rank: Tribunus Laticlavius XIII

Appearance: Marcus is taller than the most of his people allowing him to look down on most he meets. He has broad shoulders formed from years of wearing the heavy armor of the legions. His hair is a bit longer than legion regulation, but not from disregard of policy but merely no time. He has hazel eyes and dark brown hair that is fairly curly.

Personality: Marcus is a tough but fair commander. While he expects his orders to be carried out with the utmost competence, he is understanding when given a valid reason for failure. For those Marcus doesn't care about he sees them as assets and problems rather than full people. This is how Marcus thinks on the battlefield, constantly calculating what certain assets are worth and the price he should pay at the current moment.

Skills: Marcus is a skilled swordsman and brawler due to his size and good instincts. His true skill is his exceptional tactical ability. That is what makes him appear a promising future commander to the senate. He can quickly make decisions that will affect many lives without much hesitation.

Flaws: He has trouble not just going by instinct and plays things by the cuff of his sleeve. Often thinking his first idea will be his best idea he rarely second guesses himself or thinks things over for too long. He also has no interest in politics, which if he dabbled in he might do well due to his family connections. While able to give rousing speeches he is no Caesar with the ability to inspire 2 farmers to fight an entire legion with nothing but manure.

Backstory: A long time ago Marcus’s ancestors were a fairly wealthy line of senators. During Sulla’s reign of terror his family had managed to lar low and not lose their heads. Their fortune turned for the better when they sided with Caesar’s faction in the civil war, and later on aided Octavion in his fight against the murderers. Having chosen the right faction they became one of the most powerful families overnight. The sons of the family became great statesmen and powerful generals, while the daughters spread their influence and gained vast sums of gold.

Now quite a time later their influence has waned. While not weak in any way, ever since the bloodline of Octavian lost the throne they have not held as much sway. Marcus is the promising second son of the head family. His older brother became a senator like his father, and his younger siblings seem to be intent on partying their wealth away. It is Marcus alone who has chosen the path of the sword and shield. Serving for a short time as a sub tribune in the 9th legion he was transferred out after four years.

His father then used his political clout to get the Senate to make him Tribune Laticlavius of the thirteenth legion. It also helped that the Legate of that legion happened to be a “family friend”. Marcus joined the 13th at the beginning of the darian campaign and has learned much from it.

Age: XXIII

Sex: Feminae

Occupation: Gladiator/Slave

Appearance:



Aina is of an average height, though more lean and muscular than the common Roman standards of beauty might permit. She has long, dark hair, high cheekbones, and full lips. Her body is bronze from many days spent in the sun and painted with the geometric tattoos common among the Amazons.

Personality:

Quick-Tempered: Before her capture, Aina was known among her friends to be quick to anger, but since it is hard to say she is “Quick Tempered” because she is nearly always angry, resentful of her captors. Her every movement has something of the caged tiger: one can’t be quite certain when she will lash out.

Intrepid: Aina is bold to recklessness, dauntless in the face of any danger to her person.

Clever: Aina is very poorly educated by Roman standards, but is quick-thinking in battle and when faced with problems or puzzles. She is good at finding the weaknesses in her enemies.

Capricious: The Amazon hardly ever makes much of a plan, but rather launches into action and asks questions later.

Equipment:

As a slave, Aina now owns nothing, but her leather armor which she was allowed to keep in hopes of the exoticism drawing in more spectators. In the arena, she fights with a polearm.

Skills:

“Swiftness”: Aina’s name roughly translates to “swiftness” and she lives up to the moniker. The Amazon is fleet of foot, flexible, and remarkably agile; her skill in battle is largely due to her speed, reflexes, and acrobatic feats.

Horsemanship: Like all Amazons, Aina was riding almost before she was walking and has great skill in managing horses. There has been some talk of placing her against the other Eques, or equestrian gladiators. Others think it’d be a shame to waste the spectacle of her fighting on foot.

Melee: Though she was trained in the use of bows as well, Aina’s primary weapon is the polearm. She fights like a dervish, using the weapon’s long reach and her own agility to carve her opponents.

Flaws:

Uneducated: The Amazons teach their children the art of warfare, how to fight, how to hunt, and how to ride. Aina can read very little and has no knowledge of politics, philosophy, or art.

Reckless: Aina has no concern for her own safety or for danger of any other sort, not to mention the sort of attitude that is bound to get her in trouble.

Underweight: Compared to the other gladiators, and any other man Aina might find herself up against, she is small. The Amazon has little in the way of brute strength and must rely on other aspects to succeed in a fight.

Backstory:

Spring had come some time ago to the plains of Scythia, but so early in the morning a bite of chill still lingered in the air and Aina shivered as she stepped dripping onto the northern bank of the Black Sea. Salt water ran in rivulets off her bare, goose-pimpled body, taking with it weeks of dirt and grime from her travels. The young warrior had made good time on her trek outwards from the heart of Scynthia and by that very afternoon, she believed she would arrive at her destination.

The chieftess of Aina's tribe had little love for the Romans and their relentless hunger for new territory, and they had been suspiciously absent from Scythia for some time. It was possible that the legions had turned their sights on the easier, more fruitful pickings to the south, but Aina had been ordered out to check the borders anyway. With winter’s grasp lifted from the land, it may once again look favorable to the damnable Romans.

As the warrior woman slipped her clothing back over her damp skin, she looked out across the expanse of mirror-calm water and at the tall black mare nosing near the shore. It was as still and peaceful as any scene Aina had laid her eyes on, with fog rolling off the lake in the grey light of a sun just beginning her day’s journey. It was high time Aina and Aba, the horse, began their journey as well. With a prayer of thanks for the morning’s beauty, Aina collected her few belongings. Aba pranced impatiently as her simple bridle was fitted, and with a wave of apprehension, the warrior woman noticed that no trace of paint remained on her mount’s sleek black body. Gone were the geometric swirls that matched the tattoos on her own skin, and Aina prayed that the blessings that had accompanied the markings had not faded as well.

The peace of that morning lingered within the warrior woman as she entered the pine forests near the Scythian-Roman border, singing a simple chant to the moon goddess and swaying with Aba’s gentle canter. With the overconfidence of a fighter who had never lost a battle, Aina did not fear the approach of Romans—she doubted she would find any on so quiet a border, and if she did she had no doubt in her ability to best them. What were Roman soldiers to the wild beauty of a tribeswoman in battle frenzy?

Then, the first arrow struck. It was a clever shot, not aimed at the warrior woman, but at the unprotected chest of her trusted steed. The big black horse seemed to cave in on herself, crumbling to the ground beneath Aina as the barbed tip found a beating heart.

“Aba!” the warrior woman let out one startled cry of grief as her animal fell. She had raised the sturdy beast from a filly, but there was no time for sorrow just then.

An East Roman Border Guard was welling out of the surrounding trees like so much blood, each soldier bent on attacking the one savage they had seen on the border after being stationed in so remote a place all the long winter. Aina whirled into action, slaying 4, 7, 10 of the soldiers with the cruel blade of her polearm, but the sheer number of soldiers soon proved too much. There was a sharp stab of pain in her left temple, and the warrior woman knew no more.

---

Aina is an Amazon warrior from the steppes to the East of the Black Sea, recently captured and taken to Rome to be sold as a gladiator. She has yet to be pitted in the arena but has already been installed in the Ludus Magnus Gladiator School.

Age:XXII

Sex:Feminae

Occupation: Spy/Cuthroat

Appearance: Gerlinde, or as the Romans know her as, Marcia is a slightly taller than average woman, which displays exotic fair skin features befitting her Germanic Ancestry. A woman with fair skin, freckles, distracting green eyes and fiery red that keeps usually braided all the way down to her waist. She usually keeps her sensitive features under a hood to shelter them from the inclement sun. Marcia is rather fit and slim, and by Roman standards (small breast and wide hips) comely.

Personality: Marcia is a survivor first and foremost. She cares nothing about virtue and honor, and she appears to revel in infamy sometimes. Her speech is often jaded and cynical, as someone who has seen too much filth in too little time. Roman or barbarian, to her is all the same, a thinly veiled cesspool of based desires and craven intentions with little if any nobility at all. She however, cannot let her go of her past, and she has a bit of a soft spot for orphaned and destitute children. Surprisingly enough, she is far more cultured than she appears to be, and likes to read and learn new dialects and languages, even if she claims it's to improve her art.

Equipment:Marcia's equipment is as ever changing as her disguises, but she nevers parts without her dagger. She also carries some Aconitum poison in order to take care of loose ends.

Skills:

• Housekeeping: Marcia is competent in household chores and some people (who dare risk eating her dishes) even praise her food. While this once would've made her a good housewife, nowadays it is useful for her disguise and cover work.
• Hunting and foraging: Being born in a harsh location with limited supplies, Marcia is no stranger to hunting with spear and bows, as well as knowing some herbal remedies...and concoct some poisons as well.
• Spear Fighting: Marcia knows how to defend herself in a fight, and her spear skills are nothing to be scoffed at.
• Disguise and acting: Over the course of years, Marcia has learnt how to disguise herself by using dyes and clothes, and she can even pass off for a man at times. She has become a master to show fake emotions aswell.
• Polygloth: She speaks at least four tongues. In addition to her native germanic, she can speak Roman and Greek without accent, and even knows Celtic (but her accent is atrocious). She can read and write in Latin, Greek and Runic scriptures.

Flaws:

• Children: Orphans and young kids are a soft spot for her, and her most blatant weakness. She can't help but feel sympathy for them.
• Cannot comprehend honor: Marcia is sometimes unable to anticipate honorable behaviour, as she usually assumes the worst when it comes to people.
• Sarcastic: Marcia can't help but open her mouth to make witty remarks, sometimes to her own detriment.

Backstory: Marcia was born as Gerlinde, the first daughter of a humble Marcomanni chieftain, just outside the borders of Empire, near the shores of the Danube river. Groomed to be a prized wife of one of his father's best warriors, Gerlinde's life took an abrupt turn to the worst when a rival tribe just flat out annihilated her homestead due to a feud, missing her narrowly. With nowhere to go, and chased by a score of brutal and blood-roused germanic raiders, the 12-year old girl decided that the only place she could go to the deter these beasts that wore the shapes of men was behind the lines of their ancient enemy: Rome. Despair fuelled her, and before she had realized, she had swam the entire width of the river without drowning.

But she was far from safe, either. The Romans found her, and surely enough, they didn't kill her on the spot, but taken to the camp and, with the aid of a germanic cook, questioned about what happened. Her fate left unresolved, she was on the receiving end of a culture shock, when a couple of drunk soldiers didn't take in account that barbarian women weren't into that kind of activities at such early age. She somehow managed to react in time, and using her spear skills, keep the drunk soldiers at bay, but that fouled her first encounter with the Roman Empire.

Nevertheless, she managed to keep her head on her shoulders when the local Frumentarius had heard that a wet river rat of a girl had managed to swim through the river and kept a couple of soldiers at bay, which caught his interest. He saw potential in the girl and decided to recruit her services in managing the frontier as his eyes and ears beyond what the Legions could reach. The former Marcomanni thus turned on her former tribes and became a spy of Rome, an infamious job which nevertheless kept her belly filled and earned her a warm bed and food. Both Frumentarius and spy upped the game when he was called back to Rome, and decided that even though the Emperor had kicked the Germanic peregrini some time ago, bring her to the capital. Renaming herself as Marcia, she took the corruption of Rome like a fish takes to the waters, and her skill and rewards grew.

Unfortunately, her former employer did not share her luck. He instead managed to die in a very Roman but undignified manner, by choking on his own vomit after a party. Now, without a solid employer, Marcia wonders where could she go after so many years.

Age: 24

Sex: Male

Occupation: Murmillo Gladiator (One of Romes most celebrated Arena champions)

Appearance: Viction is arguably one of the most handsome men to set foot in the arena. The son of a Pictish Chieftan from beyond Hadrians wall, he is a veteran of numerous Gladiatorial combats, and only one brush with Roman Legions in Britain. The man was not born a killer; but he is certainly one of those who you would say was born with the "warrior spirit". Standing at nearly six feet, four inches and weighing in at a staggering 230 pounds, he is a huge man by all accounts. Broad in the shoulders and light on his feet, he has earned the many scars that crisscross his body, and his growing fame.

Personality: Like many Gladiators, he tends to distance himself from those who have never shared the dangers he has. He is efficient in his work, a strict observer of Arena rules, and quick to praise an adversary who he has defeated. He is often very serious but once you can crack the iron shell you will find a man who loves animals, wants to be rid of Rome, and wants nothing more than to return to the rain soaked hills of Britain.

Equipment:
Gladius: Roman sword.
Scutum: Rectangular shield made of vertically connected wooden boards with a small bronze boss which protects shield's handle.
Balteus: Leather belt with metal decorations and supplements.
Manica: Segmented or scaled arm guard made of leather or some metal alloys.
Cassis Crista: A large helmet with plume crest or horsehair.
Ocrea: Shin guard/protectors made of gold, silver or other metals.
Fasciae: Thick soft padding on legs.

Skills: Combat veteran, calm under pressure, excellent swordsman, ruthless, speaks Latin and Pictish well.

Flaws: Treats most problems as something to be hit with a hammer, is unable to conceal his hatred of Romans, and has no formal education of any kind.

Backstory: Viction's family hails from the Caledonii Tribe, part of the peoples known as the Picts, living to the North of Hadrians wall in the Roman province of Britain. His father was a blacksmith, sheep farmer, and part time warrior while his mother looked after Viction and his thirteen siblings.

His life was unremarkable enough as a youth though he was well noted by friends and strangers alike for his sheer size which was highly unusual in the area. Working in his father forge helped him build tremendous muscle mass and made him a frightful individual to encounter.

Like many young men of his tribe, he delighted in the skirmishes between various villages and showed great skill in cattle and sheep rustling. On most occasions all had to do was burst from the woods roaring like an animal and his terrified opponents would flee, leaving their livestock for plunder.

When he was fifteen he, along with his father, four brothers, and several dozen other men from his village, launched a raid on a tribe allied with the Romans posted along Hadrians wall. The raid was a success and much plunder was taken, Viction and his family returning home loaded with goods and stories.

The Romans, unsurprisingly, did not take the raid lightly and retaliated that same night. Viction was among those to drunk on their victory, and captured wine, to fight back as the rest of their tribe fled into the hills. Viction was sold into slavery, along with two sisters who he has not seen since.

Because of his height and strength, Viction was bought by a Ludi Gladiatorium in Londoninium where he underwent brutal training that turned him from a fun loving boy and in to a skilled fighter. Viction's skills grew and he won combat after combat until his owner decided to take him to Rome.

Now in Rome, he is considered an up and coming champion as he look toward his fortieth individual combat. His huge size and handsome features have helped his celebrity status and he is quickly becoming a favourite in the Arena. Huge sums have been won and lost on his battles. His own wealth and prestige grow with his victories.

Rumours now fly that the Emperor himself is taking an interest in Viction and the young man, for he is still young, hopes to win the wooden Gladius and so return home.

Age: 46

Sex: Male

Military Rank: Praefectus Praetorio

Appearance: Marcus stands tall, closing on 6ft in height, and retains his fit physique from his time in the legion and bears a few battle scars on his chest. He has rough, fair skin and a stern, shaven, face. His eyes are dark brown in color and his hair has begun to gray with age. He is usually seen proudly wearing his Praetorian armor.

Personality: Marcus has a calm, cunning demeanor well-suited to politics or the battlefield. He can be cold and brutal as he carries out his duties and he's not one for social events. He regards the Empire of Rome highly and would much rather see it prosper than any one Emperor sit on the throne.

Skills:

• Loyalty of the Guard - Marcus has managed to gain a hold over the loyalty of most of the guard, leading a majority of them to follow him without question.
• Cultus Speculatores - Made up of Frumentarii contacts and Speculatore agents, Marcus has established an unmatched networks of spies and assassins informally referred to as "The Cult of Spies"
• Untouchable - With no known familial connections and no holdings beyond those of a prefect there is no way to influence him without directly convincing him.
• Gladius - His preferred weapon, Marcus is exceptionally skilled with these blades. He can just as easily wield one solo, duel weapons, or sword and shield.

Flaws:

• Loyal to the Empire, not the Emperor
• politically uninclined - Marcus does not have a great grasp of the political machinations of the senate, and he does not care too. He keeps an eye on them but remains otherwise uninvolved...for the most part
• Fox knows best - owing to his lack of political affinity and somewhat anti-social personality Marcus would much rather handle things through espionage and assassins rather than political maneuvering or sweet talk.

Backstory: Marcus' comes from seemingly nowhere, the first records of him being his recruitment into the legion. He proved to be a good soldier and was set to steadily rise through the ranks but instead was soon transferred to the reconnaissance arm of the legion. If he found his transfer disappointing he never let it show, instead he went on to excel in his new role.

He soon proved one of the most capable scouts in the army, capable of not only tracking enemy movements and numbers but also of sabotaging and hindering them in various ways. For his skill and guile he came to be known as "Vulpes"(The Fox) and came to lead a small unit. He would continue on with his small command for a few years.

Though he held a small command he never rose beyond the Speculatores, more out of the sense that he was too effective to be moved up into the legion proper. However he would begin to have closer dealings with the Frumentarii, eventually becoming one himself.

Not much is known from his time as a Frumentarii, most of his activities were secret but he could be found all over the empire, from war fronts to inner cities, he would have traveled over most of the places the Empire could reach. The time would eventually come though for him to advance his career, and when it came it was by way of selection for the Praetorians. Being a capable fighter and clever spy, Marcus was able to rise through the ranks of the Praetorians rapidly, seeing himself quickly to the position of Prefect, the head of the guard.

owing to his new uniform and rapid rise a slight change to his nickname slowly spread, "Purpura Vulpes", "The Purple Fox