Open Chronicles The Road to Freedom (Amol-Kalit)

Raz El'Sadaaweh

Warring Son
Member
Messages
2
"There can be as many wrong reasons to do the right thing as there are stars in the sky. There might even be more than one legitimate right reason. But there is never a right reason to do the wrong thing. Not ever." -Aegis El'Sadaaweh

Raz was hot. Raz was wet. Raz was so muddy he doubted he looked like much more than a shapely pile of filth with eyes. But Raz, unlike his opponents, was at the very least standing on his own two feet.

“Come on, then,” he growled, circling the collapsed brothers as they struggled to free themselves of the sandy muck and each other.

“You call yourselves fighters? Maybe I should consider asking your mistress if she’ll let me take on the next group unarmed and blindfolded.”

It was meant to taunt the two gladiators. It worked like a charm.

“Damn lizard!” The first brother, a heavy man in a half helm and iron breastplate, cursed as he managed to shake himself free of his sibling. He had only one sword left of the two he’d started with, but regardless he charged Raz head-on, bringing the blade up with two hands for an overhead slash. Aiming for the vulnerable space between neck and shoulder, he let the steel fall, slicing down, going for the kill. What he found instead of flesh and bone, though, was air and dirt.

“Too slow,” Raz growled from beside him as the man stumbled forward behind his own impetus. Before the man could fall again, however, one clawed hand caught the back collar of his breastplate, the other slamming up to take the man in the abdomen. Sweeping the gladiator’s feet out from under him with a leg, Raz shoved upward, tossing the man into the air even as he continued forward. The result was a cumbersome front flip, ending when the man crashed hard to the pit floor on his back, from which he didn’t rise again. By now, though, the other fighter was back on his feet, and Raz turned to face him bare-handed. Smaller and leaner than his brother the one had the brains not to attempt to take his faster, stronger opponent in a rush. Instead he held back, finding good footing and hefting his long pike before him defensively.

“Ain’t coming to you, ya scaly bastard!” he shouted after spitting out a mouthful of mud. “You feel like bein’ skewered, you’re gonna have to come do it yerself.”

“I appreciate the warning,” Raz said with a shrug, following the pike holder's movements as the man started making a careful circle around him. “I’ve been poked full of holes plenty of times before, though. Don’t think another couple more is going to matter much.” Then he shot forward.

For a minute or two he let the gladiator believe he had a chance. For all intents and purposes the man was good with his pike, taking full advantage of its reach to keep a good distance between Raz and himself. Raz, for his part, dodged left and right and down as needed in rapid repetitions, allowing the iron point of the weapon to sneak within inches of his belly, legs, and shoulders. Had he had his spear, Verra, in his hands, or even his gladius, the pike or its wielder or both would have lost their head any number of times. While the blood might have won some people over, though, such a rapid end would have done little to please the crowd. Still, eventually the theatrics had to come to a close. As the pike weilder began to tire, Raz knew his dance would get obvious and boring. Therefore, the next time the pike was thrust outward a little too far, Raz stepped around and forward, making good use of old footwork to close the gap between their two bodies in a blink. His extended arm caught the lean man below the neck, clotheslining him so abruptly he hit the pit floor with no less force than his brother had. The pike followed a moment after, and the fight was done. Sound returned suddenly and sharply to Raz’s world. What he’d droned out during the fight came back in a single wave, riding along with the explosive cheering, hollering, and applause of ten thousand bodies taking to their feet in the stands above. Raz looked up, gazing into the crowd that commended him so fondly. All the while wondering if there might have been a time in his life, even not so long ago, that he might have enjoyed their praise. When the chanting started, Raz didn’t fight the frown. These men and women of the cities didn’t know him well enough yet to read his mood by his face, but even if they had he doubted they’d notice or care. Still, when the word became clear, rising in volume with every repetition, he felt the familiar angry tension building within him.

“RAZ! RAZ! RAZ! RAZ!” Over and over again they shouted it, feeding off their own bloodlust. When he finally had enough, when he felt the anticipation had built to the point of bursting, Raz raised a single hand in silent acknowledgement. The crowd exploded again, their roar trailing behind Raz as he turned his back on the pit, leaving behind the human brothers unconscious forms as he made for the rising portcullis that led to the Arena’s underworks.
 
  • Love
Reactions: Gerra and Kailyn

Gerra

The Emperor
The Empire
Messages
576
Character Biography
Link
In the box reserved only for distinguished visitors sat a colossus. Even sitting he seemed of a level with those who stood beside him. His skin was dark as volcanic ash, his hair like fire, and his eyes burned with the intensity of twin embers, equally capable of bestowing warmth or destruction. Gold and precious gems glittered on his ears and on his fingers, yet he wore no crown. He needed none. Few would mistake Hasuras na-Gerra for any but the Emperor of Amol-Kalit and a so-called god among the Annunaki Pantheon.

He ate grapes from a dish idly as he watched the surviving fighter retreat back into the pits to thunderous applause.

"What do you think @Kailyn?" he rumbled to the woman beside him.
 

Vica

Member
Messages
4
Character Biography
Link
She had no name here, no possessions, no origins. She was just as faceless as the other fighter in the arena. However, she had shown just enough potential to be shoved into the arenas that were set before the nobles and rulers of Amol-Kalit. Her devotion to her god, the true god, never wavered through it. This too was a test, and this too she would overcome.

The hot sun beat down on her neck as the crowds cheered the name of a draconian after he seamlessly defeated those sent against him. Her mouth was dry, and she was dressed in worn leather armor, but her eyes were vibrant with determination. She was pushed out into the hot sands, the crowds cheering even louder for another fight. Untethered manacles hung on her wrists and ankles, and she was temporarily allowed a wide range of movement just for this. A collar was bound around her neck to designate her status as a slave.

She stepped out onto the arena, armed with a gladius in each hand. She was much smaller than him, but she was used to always being underestimated.

“One more fight, lizard!”

If she was going to have to take a beating to eventually earn her freedom, she would make a show of it. She began to slowly circle the arena, taking in sight of her opponent from all sides.

Raz El'Sadaaweh
 

Kailyn

astute
Member
Messages
184
Character Biography
Link
She flinched.

It reminded her too much of the pits from Cerak At'Thul. Except in this case? It looked as though the fighters weren't given a death sentence.

Was this entertainment?

Her throat was suddenly dry as she tried to swallow, tormented gaze locked onto the lizard man's in the arena. The applause made her stomach twist - made her sick. She stood, feeling lightheaded within the emperor's presence.

"I'm sorry Gerra...I can't stay." Fingers pushed sun-streaked hair beneath one curved ear as she turned to leave.
 

Raz El'Sadaaweh

Warring Son
Member
Messages
2
Raz turned, the sunset red of his membranous head crest showed briefly in irritation at the insult levied against him by the small pit slave. He scoffed loudly and walked to the edge of the sand to retrieve his own gladius and his double headed spear. The thick chalk white shaft of the nearly one hundred pound spear fit easily in his huge scaled hand as he rested it on his shoulder and stalked forward. He hadn't needed his weapons against the other two opponents but the lizard comment had robbed him of his desire to play games.

"To the blood then?" He asked as he circled before settling into his stance and leveled the heavy spear at the mammalian female.

He had no dance of words for her now as the roar of the crowd faded from his thoughts. Only the dance of steel and blood mattered now.

Vica Gerra Kailyn
 
  • Like
  • Cthulhoo rage
Reactions: Gerra and Kailyn

Gerra

The Emperor
The Empire
Messages
576
Character Biography
Link
He saw her go pale and wondered what ran through her head as she stood up to leave.

“Wait,” he rumbled, reaching out a hand, touching her wrist. He did not grab her slender arm, for he knew that she was used to being treated like chattel. And she was not chattel to him. She was free to make her own choices, but he wished she would stay.

They found so little time to spend together.

“What is wrong? Is it the blood?”
 
Messages
4
Character Biography
Link
Crunch “How about we” crunch “make this more interesting?” The minotaur spoke while nonchalantly finishing of an apple and throwing to the area ground, completely ignoring the tension between two fighters in the arena, the flat of his rhomphaia resting on his shoulder is dark drown brown fur contrasting against his bright red armour. he wasn't tallest on the field, the dragon lizard thing was just taller if you didn't include his horns. “the last one to yield, wins”

He circled with them, his stance was lax compared to the other two fighters and he was wearing a shit-eating grin. he wasn't really concerned about the two of them, the only one that was remotely threatened by was the lizard, the human? humans were weak and squishy, he often wondered why there were so many of them, he could deal with her when the scaly one was out of the race.

Vica Raz El'Sadaaweh
 

Vica

Member
Messages
4
Character Biography
Link
Now a cow entered the arena? Between this and the lizard, it was beginning to sound like the beginning of a bad joke. Vica watched as the bull entered the arena, munching on his apple. She kicked up one of the blades from the fallen gladiators, placing it on her hip for later use.

As soon as the cow tossed the apple towards the arena, Vica snatched it out of the air and flung it back at his face. She followed up by dashing right at the minotaur, a gladius in each hand. From the initial rush it was a direct beeline, and she would expect a slash from the curved blade in his hand.

However, the dash was a feint as she abruptly skidded on her knees and dropped down beneath the minotaur. She would move well inside his guard, making the large weapon he held useless to maneuver in such close proximity.This would cause her to skid through between his legs, her smaller form easily passing through. Her right hand jutted out to slash towards his left leg behind the knee.

As she completed the skid, she rolled over on the ground and shot the second gladius in her hand directly at the lizard’s torso coming up from an angle he wouldn’t expect. Vica moved like a blur, ready to adjust her tactics based on how her opponents reacted. While they had strength, she had the benefit of agility.

Dust and sand kicked up from where she dropped to the ground, making it difficult to see her.

Trovik Half-horn Raz El'Sadaaweh
 

Salazar Abydros

Rogue Wanderer of the Dagyt
Member
Messages
18
Character Biography
Link
Salazar Abydros watched on from the shadows of the cramped and dusty viewing spot of the commoners. "Fools," he would often think to himself, watching the poor and festering mob root on and shout for their favorite fighter. As if their lives weren't pathetic and miserable. As if the fighters or the nobles gave any damn about any of them. It usually wasn't long before he'd get bored with the inane violence, and leave for the comfort of the tavern.

He was nearly about to, when the next battle started. For some reason, this match up caught his attention like none before. As the Lizard-man, Minotaur, and Slave Girl began to face off. Something felt different about this group. Something actually wasn't boring for once.
 
  • Like
Reactions: Raz El'Sadaaweh

Medja

Vizier of Stars
The Empire
Messages
180
Character Biography
Link
Medja wasn't quite sure as to why she had been dragged along into the VIP box alongside Gerra and the apparent and latest object of his fascination, Kailyn, but here she was observing the events unfold in the arena down below. A lizardfolk male was rousing the crowd quite skillfully; yet another Minotaur, though not as large as the last one, stood to face him; and between them, a simple, human, warrior woman stood, armed and prepared.

It was all dreadfully droll. The only time Medja had ever intentionally attended a gladiatorial event was during the recruitment of her student and Emerald Hand, Audun Sinai. Even then, she had only done so because she had heard he was a talented geomancer, and Audun hadn't disappointed. These fighters, however, were quite mundane.

Now it seemed that the Emperor and his ever-lightweight companion were at odds.
"If you may pardon my intrusion, my lord, you invited a former slave to watch slaves murder each other in a pit." Medja chimed in from her seat off to the side of the God-King, sparing a sympathetic glance towards Kailyn. "I'm certain this is far more traumatizing than entertaining for the poor girl."
 

Gerra

The Emperor
The Empire
Messages
576
Character Biography
Link
"They're not slaves," rumbled the emperor, embers dancing in his eyes.

"Some are violent criminals sentenced to die. Others have chosen to meet their fate in the arena, rather than working off their debts by labor. And still others are here seeking glory and gold."

His fingers wrapped around the arms of his chair and he leaned forward to watch the three combatants who now gathered on the sands.

"Besides... I am here seeking talent. As you should be."
 

Nathanael McCallister

Werewolf Monster Hunter
Monster Hunters
Messages
98
Character Biography
Link
Nate was simply passing by when he heard rumors of a fighting pit, where slaves fought for their freedom. As a hunter, he didn’t need to get involved but still the idea was so... barbaric. Lovely.

He himself was part of a pit, but not for freedom it was for training. Training which proved to keep him alive all these years in his field. He’d listen at the woman talked to the monster in the stand. Such a vile creature. Thinking itself as it did. No matter, his attention was given to the pale girl next to him.

He’d sigh,
“The poor girl looks paler then snow in case you did not realize, if she is free then don’t make her stay a second longer in this place that brings back so many ill memories or whatever.” He tells Gerra from his spot a distance away. He did not care if this man was a bloody “god” or whatever the terms are these days. He too will die inevitably. Just like all of them.

“If these criminals must die, then so be it. However, I pray if some are still kicking and their fucking wounds are irreparable you have the sense to order their putting down otherwise I will do it myself.” He warns the fire giant looking at him and his women straight in there eyes before he too jumped into the pit.

Simply stating he was there for the his gods, which he did not know were the Dark Ones, not to sacrifice them but to feed him and them his kills essence.


Drawing his silver sword it glittered in the sunlight with a monster hunter’s ruins on the blade, he would run up to the minator and slash at the cow’s hamstrings. The hunter was fast, due to his werewolf blood. If he lost his sword he was not scared as his gauntlets would be his next weapon, then his other form.

He was just here for the fun of it.