Scrivener

Ban the Person above you

Banned for being unexpecting.

~ Of Blood and Nobility ~ (Dragon Age)

Atharius leapt back, avoiding the swing of a war hammer by a particularly stout elf. The elf swung again, stepping forward with his attack. Even with his strength though, the weapon was still bulky and heavy, and the faster Atharius surged forward plunged his veridium blade into the elf’s exposed stomach.

Another elf, a woman, dashed forward from the right brandishing twin daggers. Atharius drew his blade free form the fallen corpse at his feet and quickly made a wide swing to deter the charge of his new assailant. Dodging the attack, the elf countered out, leaping forward attempting to drive her blades into the exposed Atharius. The young Sulla just avoided the points of the daggers, the elf awkwardly tilted forward, her arms outstretched from the missed attack. Atharius quickly brought his staff around, swinging the shaft with a crack against the side of her skull stunning her as her daggers clinked to the ground.

With a sharp downward strike, Atharius flayed open the side of the elves thigh, a shrill cry dang out as she fell. An immediate swing decapitated the grounded elf, adding another kill to the tally.

Dosan Sulla leaned back comfortably in his seat, helping himself to a clump of grapes on a plate as he watched the performance below. Though noticing the exchange between Cynasse and her slave, he made no remark nor inquiry. Anyone who mingled with the Magisters knew better than to pry into their matters, even in something seemingly so trivial.

”Elephants?” asked Sabina.

”Most excellent,” said Horacio Tiber, having overheard Sabina and the Magister, ”I’ve always wanted to see the likes of such a beast.”

”You’ve never seen an elephant, Horacio?” inquired Vita Sulla.

”Horacio stays locked away in that tower of his all day, darling. It’s a wonder he knows what a dog looks like.” Dosan said smugly without turning his eyes from the spectacle below. ”Tell me, Altus Dosan, have you ever seen such a beast?” Horacio demanded, looking past his wife and and sister-in-law. ”I have not,” Dosan said, looking over at Horacio ,”but I certainly have seen more than you I bet. With your insistence at staying locked away from the sun it’s a wonder you haven’t burst into flames already.”

”An alchemists’ work is his life, Dosan.” said Sabina, defending her husband, to which Horacio smiled glibly at Dosan.

”Pardon me, children,” Vita Sulla said loudly to the three with condescending chastity, ”but look below.”

The heavy wooden gates came swinging open, and three large elephants came charging out within ten feet of the other, trumpeting loudly to the glee and wonder of the crowd. The ten champions stood undefeated and nearly unscathed, while perhaps twenty of the elven slaves remained. The gates were sealed again once the elephants were clear, and the gladiators below were sealed within with the charging beasts. Three young but strong bulls with rage in their eyes as the blood and dust of the arena seeped into their trunks.

”Let us see how Atharius’ training fairs him for such mammoths.” Dosan said, with no doubt at all for his son. Atharius has been trained by the best fighters in Minrathous, and while brontos weren’t elephants, they were a close second. While not fearful for his life, Vita Sulla clenched her hand nervously over her chest at the sight below, taking hold of Dosan’s right arm with her other as he casually flecked a grape into his mouth.

Atharius watched as one of the massive elephants charged passed, pummeling a pair of elves underfoot and nearly killing Lucius of House Valerius, though fortunately he dove aside just in time. Another of the beasts was giving chase to Iladri Urien and two other champions who were running for their lives. A loud trumpeting at his back caused Atharius to turn, the third elephant was heading straight for him, its heady eyes trained on him. He caught sight of Valto Vanicci sprinting along behind it, his broadsword raised.

Not wanting to surrender any glory to Vanicci, Atharius stood his ground and the elephant met him. It reached out its trunk to grab him, and Atharius swung his staff, the elephant keening as the veridium blade lopped off the end of its long snout. Though relishing the blood on his blade and across his face, Atharius darted to the left as the enraged elephant surged forward, its heavy stomping shaking the very ground and stirring the dust.

Valto Vanicci sprinted forward, swinging his blade and cleaving it across the elephants back leg, attempting to cripple it. The beast bellowed loudly and turned, slightly staggered by the sharp blow to its leg. Valto swung again, cutting off more of the mammoths trunk. Outraged, the elephant reared upward, standing on its back two legs before slamming both front feet down before Vanicci. The heavy impact sent the young Valto reeling as his sword fell from his grasp.

The elephant raised up again, slamming both feet down, barely missing Valto who rolled away desperately. Seeing an opening, Atharius rushed toward the elephants left flank, leaping upward and extending his staff blade outward in a risky and perhaps stupid gamble. The blade pierced the elephants’ side and Atharius’ weight forced the blade in deep, spilling blood over Atharius who now hung from the staff which was impaled deeply into the elephants’ rib cage.

Ban the Person above you

Banned because REVOLUTION!

Ban the Person above you

Banned by the blade Dawnbreaker!

Post a random fact about yourself.

When I was in 9th grade I was kicked out of class for farting very loudly on accident and disrupting the whole class. “GET OUT!!” the teacher screamed. Ah, youth.

Ban the Person above you

Banned by the Hammer of Thor.

~ Of Blood and Nobility ~ (Dragon Age)

@Perihelion, here we are, sorry for the delay! I had gotten caught up in reality. If your not crazy about the name I can change it. Thoughts? Suggestions?

Also, would you please repost your CS in the “Characters” tab? ^.^

~ Of Blood and Nobility ~ (Dragon Age)

PROLOGUE:
THE PROVING

The golden afternoon sun bore down on the grand arena, as the masses of Minrathous roared and shouted at the spectacle below. It was a warm spring day in the capital of Tevinter. Ideal weather for afternoon tea, or a mass event of blood spilling. A proving, hosted by the Archon of the Magisterium himself, was being held today. Ten Imperial gladiators from prestigious Minrathous noble houses were partaking.

These ten noble men and women were pitted against a horde of “Dalish savages”. Fifty elven slaves had been painted in crude imitations of traditional Dalish tattoos and given fine studded leather armor. Diversely armed from broadswords to maces, this slave army was promised freedom from their chains should they fell the ten Tevinter champions. Empty promises of course, as none of the slaves selected had any experience in battle or even basic combat training. Easy prey even in their numeracy, as the ten nobles on the field were all adeptly trained in melee.

The horns had been sounded and the cry given, and the elves stormed the dusty field of the proving arena. Within moments after their charge a dozen had fell to the champions, to the delight of the crowd at the spilling of blood. The Tevinter nobles, one of whom was Atharius Sulla, stood in a spread circle, surrounded by their foe. Atharius’ staff blade was coated in the blood of two elves he had slain himself, to which he reveled at, determined to have the most kills of the ten nobles.

To his right a scream rang out as Iladri Urien drove her family blade into the chest of an impetuous elf barley past boyhood. The crowd erupted as he fell and the elves reeled back yet again. Opposite from Atharius, Valto Vanicci took advantage of the faltering elves and rushed forward, the champion of House Vanicci striking down a trio of foes with five great swings of his broadsword. Feeling the pressure of competition, and fully aware that his mistress Cynasse and the entire Sulla family was present and watching, Atharius took action.

A fair haired elf with grizzled scarring raised his sword to the young Sulla. Batting aside the elves’ sword with the blade of his staff, Atharius then struck him with the shaft. Before Atharius could deliver the killing strike, the reeling elf with blind luck parried the strike. Unfazed, Atharius twirled his staff about and struck the elf on the side of his knee, bringing him to the dust. With a great thrust, he drove his blade into the fallen elves’ chest, killing him and sending a spray of blood. Atharius gleamed at the cheers around him as he surged forward and engaged another opponent.

Dosan Sulla stroked his stubbled chin with his right hand as he watched the battle below, the air trembling with the warbled chorus of cheers, screams, and clanging of blades. To his right sat his wife, Vita Sulla, and her sister Sabina and Sabina’s husband Horacio Tiber. To the left of Dosan sat Cynasse Hallandren, Magistrate and Atharius’ mentor. Dosan looked over to Cynasse, hand still gripped on his chin, “Atharius is looking quite fine, wouldn’t you say? Four ki-... pardon, five kills in moments.”