Deamonbane Member
STATUS: When you see a sock on the doorknob, the only civilized way to react is to kick the door down, declaring loudly that," Player Three has entered the game!" 9 yrs ago
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When you see a sock on the doorknob, the only civilized way to react is to kick the door down, declaring loudly that," Player Three has entered the game!"
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Let allow some more people to post their reactions before beginning the fight. I'll post up Canis introducing him and then you put up your post...
I suggest M'baka. It as he is gonna be his trainer it would be a good way of getting Tane to respect his new instructor...
The offer is open, yes, but keep in mind that, for the sake of continuing the Rp, you will lose the fight, and lose it badly... If you pick Heimdal or Luminia, it will be sorted by PM with either me or Kate, respectively. If not, you can carry the fight out yourself.
Jonathan - Hunter
His words had caused their spark, he knew. It wasn't the words themselves either. It was the chilling confidence with which he had spoken them. It was like a challenge to the hubris of men. Wiser men, older men like the one that had had insulted previously, would ignore it, or maybe take it into consideration, learning more about their travelling companion. These would be those that were the most likely to endure the tempest that was his mother. The ones that would take his appearance and words as a threat, either to their manhood or their cause would be among the first to fall or worse, get those that were better than them killed. His eyes looked over the gathering, picking and choosing those that qualified to his criteria. The numbers were sadly low. He hoped, for the sake of the success of their mission, that he was wrong.
His eyes bored into the well dressed man that was talking to the elf. At least he assumed she was an elf. The church had several paintings of elves from the ancient times. but he himself had never laid eyes on one. Unless he was much mistake, few humans had laid eyes on them in the last hundred or so years. He had even tried to learn some small bits of their language from a book written entirely in their tongue that he found in the Abbot's library, but he found the wording too complex, the subtleties of the language too difficult to remember. He still recalled a few words and greetings, however.
The well dressed man moved away as the elf was summoned, moving out of the hall. The man was interesting, but Jonathan had no idea why. The man moved like a man, walked like a man, even smelled like a man, but something about him was off, something about his bearing was just a bit too confident. Maybe it was because Jonathan sensed in the man another Alpha Male and his ego demanded that he test himself against him to prove himself the greater leader. It was odd, a mystery. And Jonathan hated mysteries. He moved silently, avoiding the light as he made his way to follow Joshua.
He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he reacted in instinct. He had been too drawn by the odd man that he hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings. He spun around, seeing a servant and withholding stabbing the man through the heart with the knife that he had already drawn," Not a wise thing to touch me lad," He growled at the man," Not if you like that hand in any particular amount."
The servant took a step back, but he saw that the man had refused to be completely intimidated. How quaint," I am to escort you to your quarters for the night, sir," he said, his voice quivering gently. Jonathan nodded, sheathing his knife again and smiling. He tried to make it a pleasant smile, like the Father taught him, but it was hard. He watched the servant shiver at the sight," This way please."
Night was falling, and he was sure they were lighting the fireplace in his room already. He would rectify that.
They arrived at the room and the servant held the door open for the Hunter, but as he saw the fire already lit in the room, he took a step back," Put the fire out, and any candles in there. I will wait out here until you do," His voice was annoyed, almost growling, looking around himself, hoping that he was alone. His eyes caught to someone far along in the corridor, looking into another room. He growled again and looked away.
His words had caused their spark, he knew. It wasn't the words themselves either. It was the chilling confidence with which he had spoken them. It was like a challenge to the hubris of men. Wiser men, older men like the one that had had insulted previously, would ignore it, or maybe take it into consideration, learning more about their travelling companion. These would be those that were the most likely to endure the tempest that was his mother. The ones that would take his appearance and words as a threat, either to their manhood or their cause would be among the first to fall or worse, get those that were better than them killed. His eyes looked over the gathering, picking and choosing those that qualified to his criteria. The numbers were sadly low. He hoped, for the sake of the success of their mission, that he was wrong.
His eyes bored into the well dressed man that was talking to the elf. At least he assumed she was an elf. The church had several paintings of elves from the ancient times. but he himself had never laid eyes on one. Unless he was much mistake, few humans had laid eyes on them in the last hundred or so years. He had even tried to learn some small bits of their language from a book written entirely in their tongue that he found in the Abbot's library, but he found the wording too complex, the subtleties of the language too difficult to remember. He still recalled a few words and greetings, however.
The well dressed man moved away as the elf was summoned, moving out of the hall. The man was interesting, but Jonathan had no idea why. The man moved like a man, walked like a man, even smelled like a man, but something about him was off, something about his bearing was just a bit too confident. Maybe it was because Jonathan sensed in the man another Alpha Male and his ego demanded that he test himself against him to prove himself the greater leader. It was odd, a mystery. And Jonathan hated mysteries. He moved silently, avoiding the light as he made his way to follow Joshua.
He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he reacted in instinct. He had been too drawn by the odd man that he hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings. He spun around, seeing a servant and withholding stabbing the man through the heart with the knife that he had already drawn," Not a wise thing to touch me lad," He growled at the man," Not if you like that hand in any particular amount."
The servant took a step back, but he saw that the man had refused to be completely intimidated. How quaint," I am to escort you to your quarters for the night, sir," he said, his voice quivering gently. Jonathan nodded, sheathing his knife again and smiling. He tried to make it a pleasant smile, like the Father taught him, but it was hard. He watched the servant shiver at the sight," This way please."
Night was falling, and he was sure they were lighting the fireplace in his room already. He would rectify that.
They arrived at the room and the servant held the door open for the Hunter, but as he saw the fire already lit in the room, he took a step back," Put the fire out, and any candles in there. I will wait out here until you do," His voice was annoyed, almost growling, looking around himself, hoping that he was alone. His eyes caught to someone far along in the corridor, looking into another room. He growled again and looked away.
Spankings for slackers...
Also, if my post was a bit much, let me know...
Also, if my post was a bit much, let me know...
Afternoon, mortal thingies...
I still side with Ross in that fight... Rachel did have the object of Ross' jealousy in her apartment when he called, and what he did he did in revenge...
Been there... such a pain... you should install Lazarus on your browser... will save all of your written work for 24 hours so that you can get it back should you lose it...
Or nap during the day... I like doing that when I can...
Canis turned to the young woman as she spoken. Heimdal had been insistent that she join their team of trainers, and Canis had seen why. A fearless woman, hard and well disciplined with a sense of adventure. He wondered how she would do as a trainer, though, if she had the patience and will to bend these untrained individuals to her will. He had little doubt that she had a couple tricks up her sleeve, and he was anxious to see them in action," Nothing new and ingenious, Luminia," He said, using the nickname that the people in the Arenas had given her," Each man has a build that is best used for a different kind of gladiatorial type and I'll make a rough guess passing them onto you to see if I am right. I think I will have two-thirds correct."
"I'll take you up on that," Heimdal grumbled as he moved in between the two," We'll discuss the odds later."
Canis nodded, noting that a couple of the slaves had struck up a silent conversation. He chuckled and moving over to a nearby table, he picked up a bullwhip, neatly tied and handed it to the giant," I think it's about time you introduce these bunch of maggots to their new place at the bottom of the food chain."
Heimdal nodded, taking the whip," I think you're right," Unfurling the whip, he saw that it was over ten feet long, neatly made too. He pulls his huge arm back, snapping it forward and back again. The crack was thunderous, catching the attention of everyone in the courtyard, including the two talkative men," Shut up you worms. From now on, you only talk if I ram my hand up your arses and use you as puppets, am I fucking clear?" His voice was deep and his tone murderous. All the gladiators had to be put through the paces.
"From now on, you belong to this house. Try to escape, and you will be hung over the cliff by your wrists until the crows peck your eyes out," Canis tilted his head, chuckling. Now there was an idea that he hadn't heard yet," You have been given a chance, maggots," Heimdal continued, this time in a tamer voice as he paced back and forth in front of them. Only one of the Gladiators was larger than him, but lacked the... physical intimidation that Heimdal had perfected over the years," A chance to rise above your station. A chance to rise above any station, and be seen as gods by the common mortals. But for now, you are nothing. Less than ants and roaches in the dust, awaiting a large foot to end your miserable lives. To change this, you will need to abandon all thoughts of your previous lives. You will see death as a lover. Caress it, stroke it, fuck it," Darma chuckled lightly at that last one, rubbing his hands together," We will teach you how to survive, how to kill. Do that, honor this Ludus, and find yourselves richly rewarded with wine, coin, cunt... or cock," He indicated towards the women among the recruits," Glory, fame, and, if you live long enough, yes, even freedom. If your aspiration is any of these, attend to your Dominus. If not, ignore him at your peril, and be sent to the mines where you will die without seeing the sun, in the dark, filthy and smelling ratholes."
He turned back to Canis, nodding," How was that?"
Canis smiled," I think Marte himself would have shat his leggings," He moved forward, cracking his knuckles, moving across the trainees, looking Cynbel in the eye, his powerful gaze bearing down on the man," You have the look of a warrior. You have killed many men, yes? You think yourself a fighter of worth. Let me tell you this, your first lesson. You are nothing. What you have learned before you have stepped into this Ludus is nothing. Your trainers were shit-eating goatfuckers. The faster you realize that you know nothing about fighting, the quicker you will learn what we have to teach you, am I clear, Celt?" He spat the word out with disgust. He turned the giant," And you? Crushed many skulls? You will find it difficult to do with your entrails slipping from your gutted belly, I will tell you that," And moving over to the smaller Grecian, the one over which he had doubts," And you? Small as an ant and ready to be squashed like one. Darma," The Doctore swaggered forward, a sneer of contempt on his face," Please demonstrate my words. Give the lad a gladius. Two if he likes. You fight with a single wooden sword," He turned back to the trainee," If you best him in combat, little man, I will set you free with enough coin to buy yourself a mansion."
Lucanus had never thought himself to be a lucky man. True, he was blessed with good looks and skills with the blade, but his brothers had been blessed with women and position and power, charisma and the power to fire men's hearts with passion and glory. He still had mixed feelings. He thought his luck had changed for the better when he was champion in his brother's army, but it changed again when most of their troop had died of hunger. changed for the good again when he was not selected for decimation, and his brother was. And again for the worse when he was sold into slavery. He thought it would remain poor as he watched a few of hid potential owners looked at him with lustful eyes.
But he had been bought by Canis, a gladiator trainer, and he wondered just what kind of luck this was. Lined up among the slaves, he still wasn't sure. The odds tilted to poor when he heard their introductory speech, after hearing a few of his fellow slaves whispering to one another. Canis, their Dominus seemed a tad more reasonable, but still harsh and unforgiving. Lucanus knew how to fight. Who was he to think that he couldn't?
He looked into Canis' eyes as the man spoke to him. He could feel the contempt radiating from the muscled man, and yet, he was offering him a chance at early release if he beat one of their trainers. It appeared, he thought that the gods smiled upon him at last," Two swords, Dominus," He said, showing his poor grasp of the Centurum language.
Canis laughed, and turned to a nearby slave boy, barely 13 years of age, with skin the color of caramel," Two gladiuses for the slave, and a training blade for the Doctore," The boy nodded and rushed over to a chest. Lifting the wooden lid, he pulled out a wooden sword and two steel blades, rushing to the Doctore, handing him the training weapon, and then to Lucanus, gently placing the blades in his hands.
Lucanus smiled. The blades were a bit heavier than what he was used to, but the balance was good, the blades keen. Time to earn my freedom, he thought with a smile, spinning the blades in his hands.
"Begin," Came the Dominus' command.
Bellowing a battle-cry, he jumped towards the Doctore, blades hammering fast and hard. The man parried, blocked and back-pedaled furiously to fend off the vicious attacks. He blocked a right handed swing and ducked under a thrust, making Lucanus think that this fight was going to be over sooner than he anticipated. Then he watched the Doctore spin, hooking his foot under the Grecian's knee and pulling. Under normal circumstances, he would have lifted his leg and continued fighting. But the sand beneath his feet was slippery and unstable, and he found himself falling unceremoniously to the ground.
"This is not the grass fields or stone walls that you fight on, little grasshopper," Canis barked," This is sand! Holy Ground to the gladiator. Lose your footing in the Arenas and see your life forfeit!" Darma's blade smacked across Lucanus' back as the younger man tried to roll away. Lucanus was on his feet again, anger in his eyes, but seeing the confidence in his opponent's eyes, he couldn't help that small seed of doubt in his mind. The mere thought of losing infuriated him and he charged again, hacking and slashing.
"Look at him," Canis growled to Heimdal," Charging like a wild bull. Darma has held the killing blow three times already."
Heimdal nodded," But do you deny that you see skill in the mad waving of his arms? He is merely rough, like an uncut diamond. He needs to be refined a bit, is all."
"More than a bit," Canis mumbled.
At that moment, Lucanus spun around to try and catch his opponent by surprise. His blade met air, and he felt a blinding pain smack his ribs, followed by something hitting the right side of his face, hard. He was stunned, trying to back away but feeling his wrist come under similar assault, forcing him to drop his right sword, then Darma hammered a kick into his midsection, pushing him against the wall and bouncing back, only to meet a very painful swing from the training sword across his face. His body was in agony, and the power of the strike caused him to go into half a flip, landing gracelessly on his stomach, his mouth full of sand and blood. He tried to push himself up but another strike to his back had him settling onto the ground. Better stay there for a bit, he thought, woozy.
"Enough Darma," Canis called," Get him to the Medicus," Darma nodded and picked the smaller man up and half carrying him, half dragged him out. Canis turned to the rest of the recruits, assessing them. If they were smart, they would learn the Grecian's lesson without having to take a beating. If they weren't well, there were plenty more lessons to be delivered before the first Games," Anyone else? My offer stands. If any of you can beat any of my Doctores, you will be free to go, with coin in purse. Anyone?"
"I'll take you up on that," Heimdal grumbled as he moved in between the two," We'll discuss the odds later."
Canis nodded, noting that a couple of the slaves had struck up a silent conversation. He chuckled and moving over to a nearby table, he picked up a bullwhip, neatly tied and handed it to the giant," I think it's about time you introduce these bunch of maggots to their new place at the bottom of the food chain."
Heimdal nodded, taking the whip," I think you're right," Unfurling the whip, he saw that it was over ten feet long, neatly made too. He pulls his huge arm back, snapping it forward and back again. The crack was thunderous, catching the attention of everyone in the courtyard, including the two talkative men," Shut up you worms. From now on, you only talk if I ram my hand up your arses and use you as puppets, am I fucking clear?" His voice was deep and his tone murderous. All the gladiators had to be put through the paces.
"From now on, you belong to this house. Try to escape, and you will be hung over the cliff by your wrists until the crows peck your eyes out," Canis tilted his head, chuckling. Now there was an idea that he hadn't heard yet," You have been given a chance, maggots," Heimdal continued, this time in a tamer voice as he paced back and forth in front of them. Only one of the Gladiators was larger than him, but lacked the... physical intimidation that Heimdal had perfected over the years," A chance to rise above your station. A chance to rise above any station, and be seen as gods by the common mortals. But for now, you are nothing. Less than ants and roaches in the dust, awaiting a large foot to end your miserable lives. To change this, you will need to abandon all thoughts of your previous lives. You will see death as a lover. Caress it, stroke it, fuck it," Darma chuckled lightly at that last one, rubbing his hands together," We will teach you how to survive, how to kill. Do that, honor this Ludus, and find yourselves richly rewarded with wine, coin, cunt... or cock," He indicated towards the women among the recruits," Glory, fame, and, if you live long enough, yes, even freedom. If your aspiration is any of these, attend to your Dominus. If not, ignore him at your peril, and be sent to the mines where you will die without seeing the sun, in the dark, filthy and smelling ratholes."
He turned back to Canis, nodding," How was that?"
Canis smiled," I think Marte himself would have shat his leggings," He moved forward, cracking his knuckles, moving across the trainees, looking Cynbel in the eye, his powerful gaze bearing down on the man," You have the look of a warrior. You have killed many men, yes? You think yourself a fighter of worth. Let me tell you this, your first lesson. You are nothing. What you have learned before you have stepped into this Ludus is nothing. Your trainers were shit-eating goatfuckers. The faster you realize that you know nothing about fighting, the quicker you will learn what we have to teach you, am I clear, Celt?" He spat the word out with disgust. He turned the giant," And you? Crushed many skulls? You will find it difficult to do with your entrails slipping from your gutted belly, I will tell you that," And moving over to the smaller Grecian, the one over which he had doubts," And you? Small as an ant and ready to be squashed like one. Darma," The Doctore swaggered forward, a sneer of contempt on his face," Please demonstrate my words. Give the lad a gladius. Two if he likes. You fight with a single wooden sword," He turned back to the trainee," If you best him in combat, little man, I will set you free with enough coin to buy yourself a mansion."
Lucanus had never thought himself to be a lucky man. True, he was blessed with good looks and skills with the blade, but his brothers had been blessed with women and position and power, charisma and the power to fire men's hearts with passion and glory. He still had mixed feelings. He thought his luck had changed for the better when he was champion in his brother's army, but it changed again when most of their troop had died of hunger. changed for the good again when he was not selected for decimation, and his brother was. And again for the worse when he was sold into slavery. He thought it would remain poor as he watched a few of hid potential owners looked at him with lustful eyes.
But he had been bought by Canis, a gladiator trainer, and he wondered just what kind of luck this was. Lined up among the slaves, he still wasn't sure. The odds tilted to poor when he heard their introductory speech, after hearing a few of his fellow slaves whispering to one another. Canis, their Dominus seemed a tad more reasonable, but still harsh and unforgiving. Lucanus knew how to fight. Who was he to think that he couldn't?
He looked into Canis' eyes as the man spoke to him. He could feel the contempt radiating from the muscled man, and yet, he was offering him a chance at early release if he beat one of their trainers. It appeared, he thought that the gods smiled upon him at last," Two swords, Dominus," He said, showing his poor grasp of the Centurum language.
Canis laughed, and turned to a nearby slave boy, barely 13 years of age, with skin the color of caramel," Two gladiuses for the slave, and a training blade for the Doctore," The boy nodded and rushed over to a chest. Lifting the wooden lid, he pulled out a wooden sword and two steel blades, rushing to the Doctore, handing him the training weapon, and then to Lucanus, gently placing the blades in his hands.
Lucanus smiled. The blades were a bit heavier than what he was used to, but the balance was good, the blades keen. Time to earn my freedom, he thought with a smile, spinning the blades in his hands.
"Begin," Came the Dominus' command.
Bellowing a battle-cry, he jumped towards the Doctore, blades hammering fast and hard. The man parried, blocked and back-pedaled furiously to fend off the vicious attacks. He blocked a right handed swing and ducked under a thrust, making Lucanus think that this fight was going to be over sooner than he anticipated. Then he watched the Doctore spin, hooking his foot under the Grecian's knee and pulling. Under normal circumstances, he would have lifted his leg and continued fighting. But the sand beneath his feet was slippery and unstable, and he found himself falling unceremoniously to the ground.
"This is not the grass fields or stone walls that you fight on, little grasshopper," Canis barked," This is sand! Holy Ground to the gladiator. Lose your footing in the Arenas and see your life forfeit!" Darma's blade smacked across Lucanus' back as the younger man tried to roll away. Lucanus was on his feet again, anger in his eyes, but seeing the confidence in his opponent's eyes, he couldn't help that small seed of doubt in his mind. The mere thought of losing infuriated him and he charged again, hacking and slashing.
"Look at him," Canis growled to Heimdal," Charging like a wild bull. Darma has held the killing blow three times already."
Heimdal nodded," But do you deny that you see skill in the mad waving of his arms? He is merely rough, like an uncut diamond. He needs to be refined a bit, is all."
"More than a bit," Canis mumbled.
At that moment, Lucanus spun around to try and catch his opponent by surprise. His blade met air, and he felt a blinding pain smack his ribs, followed by something hitting the right side of his face, hard. He was stunned, trying to back away but feeling his wrist come under similar assault, forcing him to drop his right sword, then Darma hammered a kick into his midsection, pushing him against the wall and bouncing back, only to meet a very painful swing from the training sword across his face. His body was in agony, and the power of the strike caused him to go into half a flip, landing gracelessly on his stomach, his mouth full of sand and blood. He tried to push himself up but another strike to his back had him settling onto the ground. Better stay there for a bit, he thought, woozy.
"Enough Darma," Canis called," Get him to the Medicus," Darma nodded and picked the smaller man up and half carrying him, half dragged him out. Canis turned to the rest of the recruits, assessing them. If they were smart, they would learn the Grecian's lesson without having to take a beating. If they weren't well, there were plenty more lessons to be delivered before the first Games," Anyone else? My offer stands. If any of you can beat any of my Doctores, you will be free to go, with coin in purse. Anyone?"
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