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Discussion in 'Fictitious Stories' started by lifewillkillyou, Feb 16, 2006.

  1. lifewillkillyou

    lifewillkillyou New Member

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    Sorry, no sex. This is a beging of a story. I'm not sure how it's going to continue, I don't even know if there will be sex in it later. Let me know what you think. If you like it, I'll continue. If you don't, I'll have admin erase it. Thanks.


    Chapter I


    Octurous checked the small amount of armor he had strapped to his chest and left arm one last time.
    “May the Gods help me if these old straps don’t hold.” The young man thought to himself. The bronze plated leather hung heavily on his body. Even though Octurous had worn this armor for the last three months now, he had never become comfortable with it. Octurous rolled his head and shook out his arms.
    “Rely on your training. Guard your vitals. Only attack when you can kill.” Octurous placed his weighty helmet on while these thoughts raced through his head. “Never back down. Always stay on the move and never leave your back open.” Octurous loosened his arms one last time and drew in a large breath. “Never underestimate a wounded man.” He exhaled greatly and began walking up the dimly torch light stairs. As he continued up, Octurous could start to hear the sounds of thousands of people cheering. Finally he reached the top to a small landing with a small but heavy wooden door. An overweight and dirty man stood near a very small table.
    “What it be slave?” Octurous would have killed this man months ago, but it was against the code, and to break the code was death, a long and painful death.
    “Blade.” Octurous never took his eyes off the last torch on the wall. It was very dark in the slave’s pen and very bright outside. By staring at the torch, Octurous’ eyes would be almost adjusted to the sunlight, a great advantage and any advantages could be the difference between life and a bloody death.
    “Always a blade with you. Change it up, your going ta die anyway, why not make it interesting?” Octurous did not reply, only taking the Gladius in hand.
    “Breath Octurous, breath” he took a beep breath through his nose and exhaled slowly out his mouth. Octurous could feel his guts knotting and his blood pumping hard. On the other side of the wooden door was pure death. He had walked through this door four times before now, each time stepping closer to his fate. The mechanical lock disengaged loudly, soon, very soon. A deafening, simultaneous roaring cheer echoed through the stair well. Octurous planted the balls of his right foot in the sand and lowered his stance, still fixed on the single torch. The door swung open violently and Octurous lunged forward into the oblivion of the arena. Octurous looked to his right and noticed a stumbling gladiator only meters away.
    “How unfortunate this man didn’t ready his eyes for battle.” Octurous planted the balls of his left foot deep into the sand floor and instantly turned toward his first kill. Octurous lost no time has he closed the distance between him and his fellow gladiator. The first kill was to be true gore.

    The door swung open and the light of day blasted through the new opening. Murrius squinted so hard his eyes were basically shut.
    “By the Gods! Day has never been so blinding!” Murrius felt someone shove him out the door and he stumbled into the arena unable to see and totally off guard. Murrius quickly realized that there were men now out to kill and raised his trident into a defensive stance while his sight slowly returned. The untested gladiator tried desperately to get his breathing under control. Suddenly, Murrius heard the sound of heavy and amazingly quick foot steps coming strait at him. Murrius knew a veteran Gladiator had found him already.
    “Damn” Murrius turned to his left and could vuagly make out a large blur charging at him. Only weeks before, Murrius had been a farm hand for a small wheat farm out in the country. He had always been a slave, but still, Murrius had been happy. However, the owner of the farm, Gallio Photius, was not known as a wise man, and had allowed his state taxes to pile up. Under threat of trial, Photius gave Murrius to the state as down payment to stave off the impending trial.
    The state had no use for a slave, save only one, the Games. Murrius has received little training before being thrown into the arena and had chosen the trident’s stand-off tactics to make up for his lack of ability to fight. Murrius could only hope that his choice would prove wise or that his attacker was as skilled with his weapon and he was quick with his feet. Murrius lunged with all his strength at his attacker, now would be the moment of truth.

    Octurous raised the Gladius for his first thrust, just then, the opposing Gladiator thrusted forward and slightly to the left.
    “Does this man know nothing of combat?!” Octurous was bewildered by his fellow Gladiator’s move, but continued his attack. “He should have thrusted left while I was on my left foot so I couldn’t dodge his attack so easily.” Octurous shifted his weight to the inside of his right foot and leaned slightly to the left and thrusted his Gladius deep into the right side of the defenders neck.
    “My God….he’s only a boy!” By Roman standards, Murrius was a man, but still, very young. Octurous finished his first attack, cleaving cleanly through the right side of the boy’s neck, Octurous’ eye’s never left the face of his fellow Gladiator. Blood and sinew exploded from the wound as the blade exited the slaves’ body.
    “This was a cruel and brutal fate, especially for one so young. I can’t let this boy die this way!” After what seemed like minutes, Octurous’ left foot finally made landfall. Octurous once again planted his left foot deep into the sand floor, reversed his grip on the blade and twisted his bulky frame sending the Gladius deep into the boy’s back. Octurous removed the blade as his right foot came down, still not dropping his piercing gaze off the boy’s face. Octurous was a skilled warrior, and had completed his full attack in mere seconds. In-fact, Octurous had dealt his strikes so precisely, that Murrius was literally dead on his feet with the expression on his face having never changed.
    “If my blade was true, he never felt anything.” Gore pored from the gaping wounds in the small Gladiators body, the crowd roared with lust as blood and the first Gladiator fell to the ground.
    “Damn, damn these fools! May the God’s have mercy on my murderous soul.” Octurous spun to survey his surroundings and to find his next kill. His first kill was quick, too quick, however, the unequaled brutality of this kill could keep Octurous in the crowds favor. The slave hoped that by greatly entertaining the masses, if it came down to a vote, they might spare his life. Octurous’ gaze fell onto another fighter and Octurous called to him.
    “Agorix!”
     
  2. lifewillkillyou

    lifewillkillyou New Member

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    Thanks for the input guys.
     
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