Enslaved

[Hiroki]

The crowds were cheering wildly this morning. The food and drinks had been handed out, and everybody had been seated. The announcer stood at the ledge of the arena. People cheered wildly for the fight to come, waiting eagerly to see who the two combatants would be this new day. The man gazed across the crowd, smiling, before raising his hands to silence them.

 

“Romans! We have a new combatant for you today. He is from the north most regions of Europe, from the frozen wastes of Denmark, untouched by civilization, I give you…Barbarian Vik!” The crowd cheered as the gate opened for Vik to step out. He held his hand up to silence them again.

 

“Who will this savage of the north be fighting? Romans, from the brutal lands of Dacia, I give you the one, the only, Decebal Dicomes!” The crowd cheered wildly for this Champion and hero of the Colosseum. “Decebal! Decebal! Decebal!” The chants rang through the arena. The hero proudly moved out from his gate, raising his hand to the cheering crowd. Mostly, he was dressed like any Murmillo, but he had no shield, and an interesting weapon.

 

(( http://www.dungeony.cz/images/dacian_falx.jpg

http://www.larp.com/legioxx/falxcut1.jpg ))

 

The falx looked sharp to perfection. He pounded his chest with one hand at Vik, drawing a line on the ground with his falx, daring him to step over it. The referee came in between the two, stopping any bloody early confrontation. He stood between the two, but let them size up one another first. The Dacians face, though hidden behind his mask, obviously regarded Vik with contempt, and passed him off as nothing.

 

He spoke in his native tongue “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure not to hack off anything vital! Hahaha!” The crowd cheered at his words, even though most did not understand him. The referee stepped back from them, and shouted for them to begin. They crowd cheered, and prepared for the fight to come.

 

Without a second motion, the Dacian lunged forward, dust being kicked up from where his feet left the ground. Swinging his falx downward at Vik, fire burned in his eyes.

[Vikinor]

Vik had ben confused ever since he got to Rome, but what he did know was that he was put through training and was now going to use that training. He had some previous training in the Berzerker arts, but if he was to use the techniques he would have to discard his armour. He was not willing to do this though because his armour could be the only thing between him and Decebal's blade. He removed his Murmillo helmet to get a better view of his opponent. Then he threw the helmet straight toward the rushing Decebal and prepared to attack.

[Hiroki]

Decebal smacked the helmet from the air with his falx. He had not slowed a pace, as he continued his mighty charge towards Vik. He thrusted his falx straight towards the center of Vik's chest, preparing to impale him on the tip of the falxes curved blade.

 

The crowd cheered and gasped as he knocked the helmet from the air, and then prepared his attack.

[Vikinor]

Vik dodged, but not good enough. Decebal's blade impaled him in the ribs. Vik fell down hard. He had greatley underestimated his foe, but he could not give up. If he did he would disgrace his fathers clan and all Northsmen. "Odin help me." he said while trying to regain the strength to get back up.

[Hiroki]

Decebal twisted his falx around, readying the blunt end so that he could knock Vik out, thus ending the match. He thrusted the wooden handle towards Vik's right temple, preparing to end this fight in one fatal blow.

 

"This match is mine!" He shouted in his native tongue, the crowd cheering wildly behind him.

[Vikinor]

Vik rolled out of the way then shakily got up. He saw his blood pouring from the wound. He took his blood then smeared it over his face. Then he discarded most of his armour. Then he took some more blood and threw it at Decebal, taunting him.

[Hiroki]

(( Sorry for the delay. ACT problems. ))

 

Decebal charged towards him in rage at the whelps taunt, he angrily swung his falx towards the center of his body, losing himself in rage, as he tried to chop his foe in half.

 

The crowd gasped at the sudden turn of events. This was turning into a very bloody match. The referee would have to step in before one of them was killed soon.

[Vikinor]

Vik quickly put his sword up and blocked Decebal's falx blade. It was only a couple inches from his body. He then tried to push the falx blade back towards Decebal.

[Hiroki]

The Dacian was too powerful to simply have his blade pushed away. He continued to press down on Vik, his teeth clenched as his feet became rooted in the sand floor of the Colosseum.

 

Finally the referee came and pushed Decebal off of Vik, spacing them for a moment, giving each one a chance to regain there senses.

[Vikinor]

Vik was still going berzerk and he lunged at the referee for interupting his battle. He had almost completley lost his senses. The only thing he knew at the moment was killing.

[Hiroki]

Quickly seeing the assault on the referee, the crowd gasped in alarm. From the rafters, an archer took aim at the wild Vik. Decebal stood back, knowing what would happen.

 

A single arrow screeched towards Vik, piercing him in his right calf, paralyzing the leg in immeasurable pain. Praetorian Guards quickly made there way into the arena, they grabbed up both Vik and Decebal, and took them back to there sponsors. Decebal was given the match by default, for Vik’s attack on the referee.

 

The Praetorians roughly handled Vik. They drug him through the dark corridors of the inner-Colosseum. They had put a black sack over his head. He could feel himself being dragged along, with his wounded leg, the sounds of there feet pounding against the concrete pavement. Doors slammed shut behind him, as whispers were heard from all sides.

 

Light could now be seen through the pitch black sack, just creeping through the threads of silk. They were outside now, or at least in a more open area. They removed the sack, and his sponsor and trainer stood facing him. The Praetorians stood, scolding him in there foreign tongue, warning him. He nodded apologetically, offering them several strange coins.

 

They left him with his sponsor who promptly shouted at Vik for his foolishness, despite how he laid on the ground, bleeding at this point.

[Vikinor]

Vik was in no mood to hear this person yell at him in a language he did not know. He knew however that somehow he had become a sort of property for this man. He tried with all the strength left in his body to get up and silence this man who stood before him. He stood up but realized he did not have the energy left to attack this man.

[Hiroki]

Vik was bound in a prison for a week, before he was finally allowed out under the very close watch of the Paetorian Guard. They debated sending him to the Beastiary.

 

Whatever the case, he was in trouble. On the other side of things, outside the arena, the Legions were preparing to move, though they were still taking recruits.

[Vikinor]

Vik wanted very badly to see his "master" so he could make a deal and so he wouldn't have a man following him all the time.

[Hiroki]

(( I'm going to be a little lax on you, to make things interesting. The wound on your leg wasn't so bad after it had a few days to recover. ))

 

Tonight, a great festival in honor of Athena was being held in Rome. Roman Festivals were glorious events of games, wine, and wild parties. Many patricians and Plebeians alike held extravagant parties within there homes, involving wine, fruit, and prostitutes to just name a few.

 

The guard of Vik's cell couldn't seem to resist the wine, and the women that he knew would be at a local patrician friend of his home. He had left his post, and Vik's cage unguarded. His cell had two locks on it, but he had left one unlatched. The door banged in the wind now, the chain lock from out side holding it closed barely.

 

There were still some Praetorian Guards around the area however. They were always on patrol, always on the watch for unrest, or crime.

 

At one of the bars near the Gladiator cells, a wealthy Patrician boasted a well made long sword which he apparently won in battle. Though he had actually purchased it from the loot brought back from the Britannia campaign.

 

"It is a well made sword from a Scandinavian King they say! They found it on a Bar-err, I mean I slayed a Barbarian who tried to use it against me, and took it from his corpse." He smirked at the ladies gathered around him, as they swooned.

[Vikinor]

Vik called to the guards to let him see the sword. If they didn't understand him then he would make a lot of noise trying to break the last lock on the cage. If it was his sword then he wouldn't need to see the lowly being that owned him, to ask where his sword was.

[Hiroki]

( Is anybody still interested in doing this? Jokemaster? WildJedi? Viking? Curt? Luke? )

[Writer]

((I would be if everybody else does.))

[Hiroki]

(( Yes, thats the problem, there is no point in going on if only one or two people wish to continue. ))

[Vikinor]

(I am interested, but I suggest we hurry up and finish the "chapter" with my character then give someone else the spotlight.)

[Hiroki]

( I would have, if I had somebody to switch the spotlight too. )

[Vikinor]

(Well.........................who wants it?)

[Curt-Man]

((well i have no interest in finishing this since i pwned my dude))

[Hiroki]

Originally posted by Curt-Man

((well i have no interest in finishing this since i pwned my dude))

 

(( Well, we could ignore that post if you wish, nothing much has happened in relation to it. ))

[Vikinor]

(How do you mean you pwned him? Are you the bodyguard dude? Just kill your owner and become a fugitive or something I guess.)