Aclidia- Enter the Arena

The hilt of the thrust blade is bounced off of a wooden buckler attached to the beast's forearm, and he leverages his footpaws against the wall, tugging the anchoring gladius loose... and launching himself right at the monitor's head, full intending to grab the the other beast by the neck and saw open his jugular while atop his shoulders. Both swords are ready to start doing their deadly work.

This is set sometime after the adventures of Abel in the vinyards.

Evening matches in the arena are always some of Gaius' favorites, particularly when night truly falls and the torches are lit. The entire mood changes and becomes a more dire one, the shadows seeming more frenzied, manuevers growing harder to see... the sport is just overall better. As Gaius is the ranking noble, he presides over that night's event, sitting in the chair of honor, straight backed and imperial. The sand in the gladiator pit has been rotated so that the blood from earlier matches has been hidden, and everything appears pristine once more. By request, the scenery for that day's match has been altered. Instead of the typical open arena, the workers have brought out several towering partitions, making an almost mazelike network in the wide arena. Though those watching the event can see down into it with ease, the competitors will wander about nearly blind, every corner possibly containing their enemy. It's one of Gaius' favorite ways to watch the gladiator games. Furthermore, the competition is not between only two beasts, but four, each starting at one cardinal direction.

One of the competitors promises to at least keep things interesting. A tall monitor lizard stands at the south west corner. His red scales seem to cast an errie glow in the torch light. He is a fearsome looking thing, tall, muscular wearing a loin cloth and spiked iron shoulder pad makes him look like a terrible warrior. Decorating himself in the skulls of ferrets makes him look completely and utterly mad. Despite the dangerous conditions of the maze ahead of him Pello the reptile can only think, "I'm standing here, in a loin cloth with no shirt, in front of the entire bleedin city staring down on me." He is certainly regretting not taking Oles's advice to slim his waist line by another inch now.

The last thing the monitor wants to hear is the high pitched, squeaky voice of Oles echoing through the arena. The polecat is small, but man, his voice does carry. "Laaaaaaaaaaaadieeeeeeeees and Gentle beasts. I have one question for you!" The pole cat shouts into a bullhorn. "Are you ready to ROOOOOOOCK!" There is a small cheer from the crowd, good enough Oles guesses, "Tonight we have a special treat for you. Coming strait from the south-lands, 5 years as an ores beast for the imperial navy could not tame this beast, but only give him a taste for vengeance on these softy gladiators tonight. A head taller than any beast and weighing in like a muscle bound Badger, I give you...Rrrrrrrrrrrrazor Claw!" Pello twitches an eye... he is going to have words with Oles if he survives this. Deadly, mauling kind of words...

Gaius looks down at the monitor, an eyebrow lifting and showing slight emotion on his otherwise deadpan face. Showing emotion just isn't fitting for someone of his position during these kinds of events. He certainly isn't going to cheer at Oles' request, and in fact a slight roll of his eyes is the overenthusiastic announcer's reward. Still, this Pello creature is an interesting one... Gaius leans to the side and crooks a finger at one of his purple-garbed bodyguards, the fox leaning in and letting Gaius speak into his ear. After a while, the guard nods and leaves, walking through the arena, only to appear at the entrance to the arena, tapping Oles on the shoulder. The guard looks down his muzzle at the shorter beast, speaking in a smooth and almost reptillian voice. "The Triumphant Imperator Gaius of House Concallesco wishes you to accept this gift, as he is sponsoring your fighter for this match." The fox produces a rather dangerous looking curved scimitar, but with a serrated edge at the base. It's a violent weapon, but looks like it should be useful for close quarters. He also takes out a small pouch of coins, not much, but complimentary. "He also wishes you to have this. You may announce his patronage after the competing slaves have been announced." And with that, the fox is gone, no doubt sneaking through the arena to reappear at Gaius' side.

The announcer for the remaining 3 fighters takes his position, announcing them with a great deal more brevity and far less fanfare. "My lords and ladies... it is the privilege of this arena to present to you our three competing fighters, the best stock of the Aclidian gladiator slaves. From the Northlands, a criminal with a cruel heart, captured trying to assassinate an Aclidian officail: Slave Nerrid Combratch. Hailing from Mossflower, captured and bought after a considerable struggle with the slaver, squirrel Slave Windtail Greatthorn. And finally, captured from the Haradic Kingdom during a daring assault by Aclidia's triumphant son, Ex-Lord Balthazar of Daletrass."

Pello nods his head in turn to each and every name mentioned. So an assassin, a squirrel warrior, and a Haradic lord. An interesting crew to say the least. They could prove to be trouble going through the maze, Pello is going to need every single ounce of concentration to focus on this match and-"Hey lizard tail!" Pello nearly jumps out of his scales. How did the heavy set Polecat get down here so quickly? "Weigh as much as badger?" He growls dangerously.

Oles shrugs, "Consider it incentive to go on that diet." He says while thrusting the hilt of the deadly looking scimitar into the lizards gut. "Here, use this for the upcoming match." Pello rubs at his stomach and takes the blade in his clawed paw. It looks like a knife in his claws. "Really Oles? You know I prefer a trident." Oles slaps the lizard on the back, trying to usher him to the door. "Too bad. It was a gift from some higher up muckity muck. You're obligated to use it. Now get out there and make me proud by brutally destroying those opponents who may or may not tear you into ribbons."

"But...Oles! Wait!" Too late. Pello turns around and sees the polecat stalking away, giving him a thumbs up sign for encouragement. Pello will have words indeed later on with his manager.

Settling back into his chair, still as straight-backed as ever, Gaius steeples his fingers and crosses one leg over the other, watching the 3 slaves start forwards. Their weapons are of considerably less quality than the one given to Pello, wood and leather shields, nicked and well-used legionnaire swords. An axe and a trident with one bent prong... None of them have armor better than thin leather armor. Pello would appreciate his scimitar if he could see what he was facing, particularly since the weapon is at least military quality, and appears like it could be appropriately violent for an arena. None of the slaves seem to head in the same direction, all of them taking a circuituous path that starts to get them lost immediately. When they've all had a bit of a start, arena attendants lean over the side of the pit and rearrange the walls of the places they started from. There. They're all thoroughly lost and can't even find for them to do now is stalk each other through the pit and try to fight their way to freedom. There's no running announcements made, as it would spoil the game and give unneeded hints to any of the gladiators who are listening.

"I feel like I'm going to break this thing." Pello mumbles. The other gladiators probibly have fancy plate mail, or shiny legionair armor and weapons. Why does he get to dress like some tribal savage? IF his parrents could only see him now. The lizard stops and shivers at the thought. And another thing? It's cold! He's a lizard! Night time and Lizards do not mix! Grumbling softly to himself 'Razorclaw' continues through the maze like some lumbering giant through a fine china shop. He tries to stand on his tippy toes to look over the walls but they are too high, even for him.

Again he grumbles. Then a sly smile spreads across his face. Cupping his claws together he shouts, "MARCO!" He giggles in delight. Ah yes, simple pleasures. They may get him killed later on but he could not resist.

There are a few reserved snickers over the shout in the audience, but Gaius narrows his eyes, starting to feel that he may very well have been a mistake to sponsor someone who's showing themselves to be a lumbering idiot. He lets out a small huff of contempt and squares up his shoulders, pressing his steepled fingers to his muzzle. Another lord leans over and whispers something to Gaius, only for Gaius to whisper back. It appears that they're idly talking about the positioning of the contestants, but what they're actually saying doesn't extend beyond the private box. The other lord makes a gesture towards Pello, and Gaius reaches out and pushes his paw down with a firm shake of his head. Shortly after, there comes a shout from behind Pello, "POLO!" and then a Legion gladius is being thrust towards the monitor's neck, its owner having used his other gladius to dig into the wall and lift himself off the ground to reach a more advantageous position.

The blade sails forward and stikes true! With a loud CLING noise. At the shout of 'Polo' the Monitor turns and simply shrugs, letting the blade colide with the spikes of his iron shoulder pad. He owes Olas an appology later on for his choice in armor. "Wow...that is a pretty neat trick. If you survive this you have to show it to me sometime-" How the monitor is sounding so calm is beyond even him. Inwardly he is realing from nearly being killed so easily and with out warning. Honorless dog...attacking him from behind. Still, he is a fellow gladiator...who ever this shadowy creep is, so the monitor thrusts out the claw holding the blade, hilt first, aiming for the creatures muzzle. After all...the games are about flare and show. It would be a shame if he ended the fight quickly...

Now that two beasts have finally met, the crowd starts to cheer for whoever they like best. Surprisingly, the assassin, who appears to be a particularly dingy looking stoat, has a considerable fan following, most likely because the sneak attacks have a certain dramatic flair to them, and his style of fighting is so unscrupulous. For a collection of nobles, seeing somebeast so willing to use subterfuge so directly is a thrill! The hilt of the thrust blade is bounced off of a wooden buckler attached to the beast's forearm, and he leverages his footpaws against the wall, tugging the anchoring gladius loose... and launching himself right at the monitor's head, full intending to grab the the other beast by the neck and saw open his jugular while atop his shoulders. Both swords are ready to start doing their deadly work.

"You see..." the monitor lizard leaps backwards, feeling the air of the blades pass by his snout. His bare foot claws sliding against the sand as he comes to a stop, "This is why I prefer long weapons!" Time to put this shiny serrated tooth pick of death to good use, by throwing it at this assassin. He doubts very much it would be useful in such a regard. Swords make very poor throwing weapons, but they do make good distractions. The lizard drops low, spinning on his heal and lashing out with his tail like a whip.

The backwards leap isn't too much of a surprise to the assassin, and he lands nimbly in a crouch, weapons rising and ready to start hacking at the monitor's legs. He dashes forwards, prepared to hamstring his opponent and work his way up, a rather devious and crude tactic, but one that might very well have worked if the thrown sword hadn't caught him off-guard. Leaning aside to dodge the blade and giving the weapon a perplexed look as it goes over his shoulder costs the assassin dearly, as the spinning tail isn't even noticed until it's inches from his muzzle. The heavy tail thwacks against the stoat's face, making him see stars, and he reels back for a moment before the unconsciousness fully settles in. The stoat falls backwards with a thud, laying nearly motionless in the sand, stunned and defeated, his head lolling back and forth as he tries to shake the stars out of his eyes. Seeing that the battle is won, Gaius stands in the box, and all eyes in the audience flick towards him as he prepares to give the verdict.

The big lizard stands there awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well blast...sorry about that. I was hoping to give you a few more rounds." How rude of Pello, knocking the assassin out after the first few seconds of combat. Oles would be dissapointed. The lizard shrugs. Kicking the blades out of the stoats reach Pello plants a heavy foot paw on his attackers chest, claws digging into his hide. Pello considers himself nice as far as gladiators go...but he is still a gladiator. Pello casts a glance upward towards the crowd.

Now that the lizard's standing on his chest, the assassin comes to his senses, losing his nerve and starting to beg for his life, "Please! Don't kill me! I was only following orders!" The classic excuses and pleadings. Gaius' face is quite impassive as he stares down at the lizard and the stoat, his nose angled into the air as he extends his paw, holding it aloft for a moment before extending his thumb, then slowly turning it upwards, following this by a firm jerk upwards. It couldn't be more plain. Death to the defeated and to the victor go the spoils! Swords up. The crowd will get their blood today and there's nothing that's going to stop that from happening... one way or the other.

The lizard shrugs, he hates it when they get all whiny about it. "Orders eh? Funny...I'm just following mine too." Pello flexes his claws infront of the stoat before saying, "Sorry..." SPLORT! Leaving a trio of deadly gashes on the stoats middle, chest, and even neck Pello moves off of the stoat, leaving him to his fate. He bends down to retrieve his 'Tooth pick of death' and continue on in the maze. The night is still young, and there are more beasts to fight.

There's a loud cheer from the audience as Pello kills the stoat in such a gruesome manner, leaving the stoat screaming in the sand for a brief while before he starts to die, going limp and his eyes rolling into the back of his head, the shock killing him before the blood loss even has a chance to. Meanwhile, as Pello continues through the maze, the sound of metal on metal starts to ring out from another direction. Clearly the other two beasts have found each other and are fighting tooth and nail. Clearly these two are more used to fighting face to face, and they're exchanging many blows, some of them hitting the wooden partitions as they fight for their lives. Of course... the confusing nature of the maze makes it quite difficult to tell exactly where they're fighting.

The lizard looks at his claw and flinches a bit. He was an assassin...he deserved what he got...yeah, he definitely deserved what he got. Feelings of guilt however are fleeting at the moment. Pello didn't volunteer to become a gladiator to be a nice beast. He came to get filthy stinking rich. And right now that meant fighting two more beasts. The 'savage of the sands' Razerclaw takes off through the maze like a velociraptor hunting his prey.

In a sense...he really is...

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Gaius

If there were any beast who spent his entire life looking down his nose at others, whose gaze projected condescension and hauteur towards those he considers beneath him, it would be the ferret Gaius Concallesco. He stands blessed with traits that would make many jealous. His features are classical, elegant, and handsome, and despite his military service, he's quite unmarred by blade marks or any other disfigurements that come with the trade.

His sable fur is borderline immaculate, the darker fur tones taking their place as highlights rather than major features, standing starkly against his white fur as a mask, gloves, socks, and stomach markings. Beautiful, black bead eyes shine out, though their more attractive nature is eclipsed by that lean and hungry look, that lust for power that men of his nature willingly succumb to. The ferret's build is likewise blessed with both a pleasing shape and an utter lack of illness, with Gaius being masculine without being overly muscular, and fully capable of the lithe and elegant movements that one would expect from a highborn member of his species.

The clothing Gaius wears is decisively military though now that Gaius has taken a command position rather than a field position, it's less than practical in combat terms, and seems to have been made primarily to look impressive. Though his upper body is clad in a splendid lorica segmentata with black-tinted steel and brass fastenings, burnished bright as gold, the red tunic he wears flows down to his feet almost like a robe, and his cingulum belt is likewise lengthened to match the more elegant nature of his garb. Fastened to the shoulders of the lorica is a flowing red cape, with the Aclidian aquila emblazoned on the back in gold thread. Around his wrists are a pair of bracers, the metal matching the rest of his armor, and detailed with gold filigree in a grapevine pattern, more for decoration than for combat.

Just as the rest of the ensemble is crafted with the best that his influential family's money can buy, the leather sandals Gaius wears are nothing short of works of art, the ties lacing up to his knee and not bearing a single unraveling strand. Perhaps one of the most arresting articles on his person is his sword, which bears little resemblance to the kind that one typically finds on an Aclidian officer. Rather than the typical gladius or spatha, he wears a saif from the Haradic Kingdom, one that's heavily decorated, and likely belonged to someone of considerable wealth; a sultan perhaps.

The hilt is jeweled and detailed with silver, and a streak of inlaid gold travels up the length of the blade, lining the blood channel. The pommel has been crafted into the shape of an adder's head, ruby eyes peering out of the sculpture, and the tongue of the adder instead being a fine red tassel. Aside from the obvious monetary value, the weapon is a superb piece of equipment, razor sharp and crafted to be slightly larger than a typical saif, and with a longer hilt as well so that it can be gripped with either one or two hands. To crown this imposing figure, a golden laurel wreath sits atop his head, worn with pride, no doubt a reward for some kind of meritorious service.

Pello (me)

Pello 'RazerClaw' Vlahakis stands the average height for a member of his species, which means he still towers over others. His scales are smooth and soft to the touch, colored red with a black stripe pattern running down the course of his back.

The reptile has the body of one who takes the time to work out to keep themselves fit rather than gain their strength through manual labor. His body has a muscular appearance with a healthy degree of flesh around his middle and tail. His scales often glisten in the sun due to the oils he puts on them.

The monitor is currently dressed in an array of armor and weaponry. His shoulder is covered by a iron shoulder pad with a trio of brass spikes. A fox skull adorns the top of the lizards head like a helmet with several feathers tied to the back of it. His chest is covered by a thick bronze breast plate. His back and belly are left exposed.

To further the appearance of a barbarian mongrel the warrior wears a fox skin loin cloth that hangs down to his knees both in front and behind with a hole in the back to accommodate his tail. The belt that holds it up is decorated in ferret skulls.

As for weapons they vary from battle to battle. Usually he is seen with a bronze trident, a custom made weapon with an iron spike fixed to the end of the shaft.