>>2361936
I'm still wondering what kind of creature could have wounded the beskam. But i have a feel we will know soon enough.

>>2361936

Without thinking something clicks inside you, like a forgotten memory suddenly resurfacing. “Reaver of the Black Forests.” Battius smiles at you and clasps a hand on your shoulder. “My boy, it shall be so. Gerhard, Reaver of the Black Forests. How the crowds will love it.” He releases your shoulder and the old man quickly peers around before continuing, much quieter than before. “Tomorrow I’ve set you up with a three on one match. They’re all condemned criminals, so they shouldn’t be much of a fight, but it will give the crowds a taste of what you can do!” He peers around again. “Tell no one I told you who you are facing, it’s strictly against the rules.” Battius quickly clears his throat. “Now get to bed! You’ve a fight early tomorrow and you’ve got coin to make me!” He grins and turns to walk away, you notice the old man is stumbling slightly as he makes his way towards a flight of stairs heading upwards.

You turn and do as you’ve been bidden, making your way back to the flight of stairs Aedan had shown you and down into the earthen basement of the villa.

The air is thick with the musk of the earth and the scent of sweat. You hear men whispering prayers of safety for their fights to come and men laughing over cups of wine and games of chance. You pass half a dozen of the small rooms before you find an empty one and claim it as your own, depositing your bundle of equipment at the foot of the rough hewn wooden bed frame. You climb into the unexpectedly comfortable bed and drift to sleep, unburdened by the killing that is sure to come, and add your snores to the cacophony of sounds in the cellars.

>cont

>>2361945
A man hollers and shouts names, bringing you back to the world of consciousness. You find a small tray of salted meats and cheeses for you to break your fast on and a small basin of water to clean yourself up with. You manage to eat and wash up before a servant girl brings you a cup of wine. You take a sip of it just as the man yelling gets to your name. “Gerhard! Yer fighting today as well! Get yer ass up here!” You quickly lace the ties for your greaves and vambraces and pull them on, calling for the servant to help tighten them. The fit is perfect and the scales do nothing to impede your movement, Brennus has show true dedication to his craft. You grab the rest of your equipment, still wrapped and resting in the flat of your shield, and make your way towards the stairs back up to the surface.

A man with skin paler than snow and hair blacker than coal stands waiting for you. You don’t recognize him from the academy, though from his build you can assume he’s either a gladiator, a soldier, or used to be one of the two. “Name?” He asks. “Gerhard.” He nods “Finally, we can get this thing fuckin movin.” He motions for you to fall in line with a dozen other men, you can only name Atticus and Ildutas among them but you know the faces of the rest.

“Well, didn’t ya all hear me? Get this thing fuckin movin! To the Arena, you lot know the way!” Atticus takes position at the head of the procession and leads your group down several of the winding city streets to the Arena, the pale man following close behind and watching for stragglers. As you near the arena you see massive crowds already forming around it, shoving and jockeying for better seats for the games. You are lead away from the main entrances, to a small outbuilding that houses stairs down into the pits.

You descend into the dark gloom of the pits, the familiar sound of men groaning their last and crying about their lot falling upon your ears as you pass holding cells and the chambers where the wounded are tended to. The pale man pairs your lot randomly and assigns the pairs rooms, which are not to be left until called for. You are paired with the Iberian giant Ildutas and he grins when he sees you are his roommate.

You enter the small room and the bigger man ducks under the doorframe after you. “It seems we are destined to be friends, as I claimed when we first met! How fared your training? Are you prepared for whatever you may face today?”

>What do you respond?

>> “Maybe we will be friends, if you survive today.” -Positive

>> “Friends, here? Only a fool expects friends amongst killers” -Negative

>> “Let is focus on what is to come, then we can think of friendship” -Neutral

>> Write in

>> Ignore (Time-Skip to fight)

>>2361958
> “Maybe we will be friends, if you survive today.” -Positive
>Write in: My trainning was perfect i bet Battius is even happier. Trainned Four man for him abd i got even better in the art of killing mutiple foes.

Is Battius sick?

>>2361968
He's a old man. So most likely yeah. I'm more surprised for not seeing his wife so far. Bet Atticus is fucking her.

>>2361958
>“Maybe we will be friends, if you survive today.” -Positive
>"I assure you, my training was thorough. What of your training?"

>>2361976
We saw him bullying a couple of man with his huge size before.

Wonder if we will have separated matches or if it's going to be the two of us versus two groups of three.

>>2361976
>>2361964
I’ll call it for these two, writing.

>>2361943
>>2361968
>>2361972
>>2361982
Appreciating the discussion! I won’t weigh in on most of it though, but I will say Atticus is definitely fucking Battius’ wife.

>but I will say Atticus is definitely fucking Battius’ wife.

Typical

You nod. “Maybe we will be friends, if you survive today. I’ve felled many big men myself, watch your ankles... and your balls. Easy targets for a someone smaller than you.” He laughs, his hearty tone the kind to dispel gloom. “You’ve felled many big men, but none of them the mighty Ildutas! Where a big man is slow I am quick, let a man try to claim my balls and I’ll tear the blade from his hands and his arms from his body!” He laughs again but you can tell he means every word, it’s not just bravado.

“Good, and as of my training. It was thorough, I can assure you. Battius was proud, he got a future champion and four men who can fight worth a damn. What of your training? I don’t expect it gave you much practice with arm removal.” You smile at Ildutas while he laughs again. “My own training was grand, Brennus made this for me when he saw none of the other blades fit me.” He unbundles his own equipment and brings forth a sword it would take both hands for you to swing. He holds it like you would a normal blade even though it must be close to seven feet of naked steel, the grip adding at least another foot to its length. You smirk. “A big bit of steel for a big man, you could probably hack a horse in half with that thing. What about when they get close?” He brings forth a gladius with an extended hilt. “He adjusted this one to fit me as well. I am no oaf, my friend. Though, I could hack at least two horses in half with my blade.” He rewraps the two swords and sits on one of the two beds. “I saw you train a few mornings ago, I am glad that we share Battius’ employ. I would win, but you would leave me horribly scarred and no woman would bed a giant lacking a face as beautiful as mine.” He announces with a friendly grin.

>> Banter, you would win the fight

>> Ask a question (Write in)

>> Time-skip to fight, we’ll assume you two had a friendly but unimportant chat.

>>2362079
> Time-skip to fight, we’ll assume you two had a friendly but unimportant chat.

>>2362079
>>> Time-skip to fight, we’ll assume you two had a friendly but unimportant chat.

>>2362091
I’ll call it, want to keep things moving while I’ve got time, writing!

Rolled 50, 81 = 131 (2d100)

The two of you go back and forth for a while until you hear it. The pounding of hands and feet, the screams of thousands of spectators, the world above the pits coming to life. The two of you listen to the muffled sound of the master of games announcing the fights and the ebb and flow of the crowds as the first fight begins and ends. It’s rather quick, from the sound of it. Ildutas scoffs but remains intently listening, his height allowing him to nearly press his head to the ceiling.

Four more fights follow, varying in length and crowd volume. Just as the silence between fights settles in the pale man appears in your doorway. “Ildutas, yer up. Get yer shit and follow me.” He quickly straps on a large pauldron and vambrace for his right arm. “Do what you can up there giant.” He nods grimly at you before responding. “I’ll bring you an arm, if I can.” He quickly grabs his swords and departs, leaving you alone in the damp, barely lit chamber.

You listen intently, though the words of the master of games are unintelligible you know who one of the combatants is at least, as the fight begins. Ildutas’ fight has been the longest yet and you can’t help but wonder what on earth could keep him so occupied. Finally the cheers reach a crescendo and you know that a victor has emerged. You wait for Ildutas to return but no one comes, you hear two more matches before anyone even comes toward your chambers. The foot falls grow louder as whoever makes their way to you.

The pale man appears again in the doorway. “Come on then. Gear up.”

>>Pick your equipment, you can bring your shield and bident and loop your axe through your belt if you want everything or leave any of it behind. Less weapons means less options but less weight. More weapons make you slower but give you more options. For this fight you know you’re facing three men.

>> Write in if you’d like to ask the pale man a question.

>>Ignore my rolls, totally unimportant rolls here

>>2362149
>Bring everything
No questions, Iludas is a big man and can take care of himself.


>>Ignore my rolls, totally unimportant rolls here
No one believes that and you know it!

>>2362149
>Bring everything

>Ask the pale man about the crowd

Getting the crowd is the way to get more coin. Nobody likes when his favorite gladiator dies and the sponsors hate when a good athlete is no more.

>>2362149
this >>2362202

>>2362202
Supporting this

>>2362202
>>2362243
>>2362387
Writing!

>>2362192
No one believes what? No idea what you’re talking about!

>>2362402
I hope those were for Iludas

You quickly gather your weapons, looping your axe through your belt and hefting your shield in one hand and bident in the other. The pale man looks you over. “Going to fight a war? Yer a smart one, bringing a tool fer every job.” He chuckles as you’re unsure if he’s making a joke or genuine. “Follow me then.”

He turns without looking to see if you’re actually behind him. You quickly catch up with him and match his pace. “What can you tell me about the crowds? Who are the favorites right now?” He shifts his jaw as he thinks. “Current favorites, prolly Fergus, Huron, The Beetle, or Atticus. They’ve been around the longest. Atticus is yer man though so ye won’t have to face him. The crowds just hungry fer blood today it seems, haven’t asked fer a single life to be spared. They loved yer big friend against that umberkin. Damn shame too, had a decent bit of coin on that fight.” He shrugs and goes silent as he thinks of lost coin and leads you the rest of the way.

Before you is the portcullis that leads to the arena, slowly making its ascent to allow your entry. “Wait fer them to call yer name, yeah?” Whispers the pale man over your shoulder.

The boom of the crowd is deafening as caretakers drag a dismembered corpse from the sands. A figure emerges on the far rim of the arena and you have to squint against the huge contrast of the sun beating down on the arena and the darkness of the pits. You can make out the figure raise its hands and the crowd goes silent. A booming voice echoed among the stands. “People of Belum, was that not a wonderful display?!?” The crowds respond with a roar the figure allows to continue for a moment before raising its hands again and bringing back the silence. “We have another wonderful game for you! Criminals that have taken from our wonderful city must be punished! Whether they have taken lives or property, they must be punished! But one criminal is no match for a gladiator! So today we present three men, a murderer, a rapist, and a thief! You know their faces, but history will forget their names and so shall we!” You see from underneath the figure three men exit the portcullis opposite yours. From the distance it is hard to make out much but you can tell two have swords and one a spear.

“Against these foul men is a man you’ve seen but once before! In the last games he wore a blue tunic and gifted the crowds with a severed head! Gerhard, the Reaver of the Black Forests! He has slain man and beast in his home of Germania, and if rumors to be believed he has slain a beskam in single combat and wears its skin as armor!”

The pale man gives you a rough shove and you start forward into the light. The warmth of the sun feels good on your skin and the cheers of the crowd chanting your name ready you for what is to come. You blink your eyes to help them adjust and bang your bident against your shield with the crowds chant.

>cont

>>2362435
The figure above looks at you and waves it’s hands “Proceed!”

You turn your attention immediately towards the three men, still some distance away, the two with swords look unsure and follow on the flanks of the man with the spear who is quickly heading towards you. The three of them look like they’ve barely eaten in the past few weeks, Battius really did start you off slow.

>>Meet their charge with your own, cover the distance and strike quickly

>>Wait for them, let them waste their breaths covering the distance while you wait with your bident in hand.

>> Switch equipment (trade either your shield or bident for your axe) then aggressive or defensive action

>>Write in

>>2362465
>>Wait for them, let them waste their breaths covering the distance while you wait with your bident in hand.

>>2362465
>>>Wait for them, let them waste their breaths covering the distance while you wait with your bident in hand.

Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>2362473
>>2362475
Shit, my apologies. Totally forgot to ask for a roll. Roll 1d100 and beat mine, Bo3

Rolled 96 (1d100)

>>2362478
That's a high roll.

>>2362478
Continuously fucking up as I try to get ready for work. Your roll is 1d100+15. 10 for your practice against a group and 5 for your practice with the bident

File: Thou_Vexed.jpg (25 KB, 394x301)

25 KB JPG

>>2362479
>>2362482
OH BABY FUCK YEAH

>>2362483
>>2362479
So that’s a 111, artificial crit which is max damage.

File: GAY.jpg (19 KB, 400x300)

19 KB JPG

>>2362486
WE ARE A GOD

Rolled 3 (1d3)

>>2362489
>>2362475
>>2362473
>>2362479

Rolling a 1d3 to see which guy is the brave and foolish one to catch your bident and then I’ll start writing.

>>2362489
GOD OF THE ARENA!!

>see which guy is the brave and foolish one to catch your bident and then I’ll start writing.

Well so long we make interesting to the crowd it's all that matters.

You drop into a low stance as the three men make their way towards you, your entire body except for your weapon arm cloaked behind your shield. You peer over the edge of the barrier as they draw close, the man with the spear encouraging the other two. “Look at him! Hiding behind a shield like a coward! We circle around him and we’ve got him! He can’t face that thing in three directions at once!” The two sword bearers fan out, trying to move to either of your sides while the man with the spear tries to keep your attention.

With one lightening quick motion, the man who made the mistake of moving on your armed side, your bident finds the bowels of a man and buries itself in them. He squeals in pain and recoils as your bident pulls back into a ready position, leaving a ragged hole in the man’s stomach. He drops his sword to the ground and clutches at the wound trying to get distance away from you. You shift and backpedal slightly, keeping the two other men in front of you.

The sight of blood whips the crowd up, their cheering growing louder as they stamp their feet against the stands. The man with the spear looks at his wounded companion. “Fuck this.” And charges forward, holding the spear like a skewer. His sword wielding companion decides to join in and rushes forward as well, swinging wildly.

>> Breaker - use your bident to catch one of their weapons and attempt to disarm them while catching the other on your shield before counter attacking (1d100+5)

>> Weather the storm - let them come, your shield will hold and then you’ll find another port for your steel in one of them. (1d100+15)

>> Write in
>HP:
>Swordman # 1 ??/??

>Spearman ??/??

>Swordman #2 07/15 - Panicked

> Gerhard (real #1 here) 30/30

>>2362534
>>> Weather the storm - let them come, your shield will hold and then you’ll find another port for your steel in one of them. (1d100+15)

Rolled 75, 98, 75 = 248 (3d100)

>>2362534
Forgot my roll again, rolling for both of the attackers and the third is to see if the last guy can recover from panic. Beat my rolls with the ones listed with the actions.

>>2362546
Do we get to roll 3d100 or 1d100?

>>2362556
Sorry about that, I’ll be more clear next time. You guys roll a 1d100 plus the bonus listed with the action. I’ll take Bo3 still though

Rolled 5 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>2362546
Take your time and let the crowd enjoy!

Rolled 40 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>2362546

Rolled 65 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>2362546

Looks like spear guy gets a poke in.

Rolled 6 (1d10)

>>2362535
>>2362575
So close, but one hit lands, your armor could stop any damage though. With your shield and armor you’ve got 4 damage reduction

Rolled 30, 76 = 106 (2d100)

You brace yourself as they rush forward, the man with the sword slightly closing the distance a moment faster than his friend with the spear. You bring your shield up and stop his charge, catching his blade and shoving him backwards.

You shift to block the spear as well but move slightly too slowly, catching the haft of the weapon and diverting some of the force instead of blocking it entirely. The blade slips up your arm, skittering across the scales of your armor before slicing a thin line across where your shoulder meets your neck.

The spearman slips backwards with a mad grin on his face, avoiding the risk of a counter attack. “See! If we can wound him we can kill him!” You give him no satisfaction, the wound barely even registering and getting no response from you. The swordman catches his breath and readies his sword while the third man makes his way back to his discarded weapon. The crowd gasps as the man lands a hit on you, unsure of how it could happen.

>>Counter-Attack - make spearboy pay for landing a hit, then fall back behind your shield against the swordsman (1d100+15)

>> All out attack - Drop your guard and send an attack at both men but leave yourself open (1d100+15, make two damage rolls if hit but lose armor from shield for this round)

>> Breaker - get that spear off of the playing field (1d100+5)

>>Write in

Off to work, will try to post from there if I can!

Rolled 17 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>2362606
>>Counter-Attack - make spearboy pay for landing a hit, then fall back behind your shield against the swordsman (1d100+15)

Rolled 42 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>2362606
Dicelord 2 the rescue!

Rolled 43 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>2362606
>>>Counter-Attack - make spearboy pay for landing a hit, then fall back behind your shield against the swordsman (1d100+15)

>>2362628

>>Counter-Attack - make spearboy pay for landing a hit, then fall back behind your shield against the swordsman (1d100+15)

Rolled 51 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>2362606
>>Counter-Attack - make spearboy pay for landing a hit, then fall back behind your shield against the swordsman (1d100+15)

Rolled 48 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>2362606
>>Counter-Attack - make spearboy pay for landing a hit, then fall back behind your shield against the swordsman (1d100+15)

Rolled 19 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>2362606
>Counter-Attack - make spearboy pay for landing a hit, then fall back behind your shield against the swordsman

Rolled + 15 (1d00 + 15)

>>2362606
>>>Counter-Attack - make spearboy pay for landing a hit, then fall back behind your shield against the swordsman (1d100+15)

Rolled 26 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>2363804
woops..

Rolled 4 (1d8)

>>2363809
>>2363804
>>2362806
>>2362795
>>2362645
>>2362631
>>2362629
>>2362621
>>2362628
Counter attack incoming!

>>2362629
Using this roll, it was the best of the first three, and rolling for damage real quick

Rolled 2 + 1 (1d6 + 1)

>>2364195
Will start writing now, maybe be a little longer as I’m fillig out end of the year reviews for work

>>2364197
Alrigth.

Rolled 88, 31, 8 = 127 (3d100)

The man with the spear slipped back to what he thought was a safe distance, he was wrong. You dart forward and launch your bident towards flesh once more.

The smug look on his face is wiped away with your sudden movement and he backpedals to try and escape your strike. The twin prongs of the bident shoot towards the fleeing man’s leg and encircle it.

A split second grin forms on the man’s face, he thinks you missed your strike, but a bigger one forms on yours as you use the slightly serrated inside edges to hook the flesh at the top of the man’s calf.

He winces as steel penetrates his skin but quickly screams as you drag the weapon downwards, shearing off layers of skin and shredding the muscle beneath it.

You quickly spin towards the approaching swordsman, knowing you’ve left your back open to his attack. You make a split second decision, trusting in Brennus’ work as you raise your arm to the sword strike. Your shield would have gotten there to slowly but your armor does the job. The sword connects with your bicep, finds no purchase among the hard and smooth scales, and turns aside. The man lets out an audible gasp and takes several steps backwards. The crowd echos his sentiments, another gasp rings from the crowds before an eruption of cheering from seeing you come out unharmed.

The third man, having reclaimed his sword, keeps his distance and exclaims. “By the gods this isn’t fair! Alls I did was steal some rotten apples!”

The spearman limps on a heavily wounded leg hisses through his pain. “Shut up you idiot, either you help us kill him or he kills the two of us and guts you like a goddamned fish.” The man whimpers a response and grips his sword with one hand and his bleeding stomach with the other.

The three men begin to circle around you again, though nowhere near as vigorously as before, looking for an opening.

>>Go on the offense, you’ve bloodied two of the three and they’re nervous now, you should press the advantage (1d100+15)

>> Bring them nearer to one of the arena walls so it’s harder for them to get around you and look for an opening, staying defensive until then (2d100+15, one roll represents how well you move them and the second once you’re there)

>> Give the crowd a new show, drop your shield and grab your axe and carve these men apart (1d100+15, lose armor from shield, gain 1d6+3 on your damage rolls)

>> Write in

>> Beat my rolls, best of 3

HP:

Swordman #1: ??/??

Spearboy: 16/20

Thief: 07/15

Gerhard: 28/30

Rolled 81 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>2364425
>> Give the crowd a new show, drop your shield and grab your axe and carve these men apart (1d100+15, lose armor from shield, gain 1d6+3 on your damage rolls)

Please the crowd get those reputation points!

Rolled 55 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>2364425
>>> Give the crowd a new show, drop your shield and grab your axe and carve these men apart (1d100+15, lose armor from shield, gain 1d6+3 on your damage rolls)

>>2364441
>>2364449
I’ll call it here so I can try and squeeze another post in before work, sorry for the lack of posts today guys! But if you guys would like to roll 1d8 and 1d6+3 and assign which weapon is hitting with guy, could be all on one or split between two of them, I’ll write it up!

Rolled 6 + 3 (1d6 + 3)

>>2364460
Axe meet thief face.

Rolled 3 + 3 (1d6 + 3)

>>2364460
Axe meet thief

Rolled 6 (1d8)

>>2364460
Spear meet Spearboy weapon (trying to break it.)

Well, those are some good damage rolls. The crowd ought to be pleased by our carnage.

>>2364480
That's good popularity will help us on the long way. Maybe we even get to bed with roman girl eh.

Rolled 1 (1d8)

>>2364460

Rolled 2 + 3 (1d6 + 3)

>>2364971

Rolled 95, 5 = 100 (2d100)

You stand at your full height, banging your bident against your shield and shout. “Enough of this dancing! These people came to see blood! Let us give it to them!” The crowd roars and stamps their feet to match the banging on your shield.

With an over-exaggerated movement you thrust the bottom edge of your shield into the sand and reach down to draw your axe. The man with the spear sees what he thinks to be an opening and rushes forward.

With ease you catch his spear just below the deadly end between the points of your bident and with a twist and pull, shatter the wood.

He curses and leaps backwards, still gripping the remnants of the haft. The swordsmen take their turn, hoping their superior numbers will give them an edge but you easily dodge the clumsy swing of the first man and find the wounded one too easy of a target.

With a sickening crunch, your axe finds purchase deep below the scalp of the thief. His entire face is nearly split down the middle with the ferocity of your swing, his eyes go wide for the millions of a second it takes for his brain to realizes what has happened and let’s death take him. You grin as you wrench the axe free from skull and brains and a shower of crimson erupts from what is left of the man’s head.

The crowd loses their minds as his body drops to the ground and his blood pools into the hungry sand, and so do your opponents. The former spear wielded curses and ineffectively launches the shatter length of wood that was his spear at you. The swordsman merely retreats slowly, unsure of what to do.

You turn to face to two of them and casually flick the gore from the blade of your axe, spraying the sand with more droplets of brain and blood. Finally these men understand that they are nothing more than prey.

>>Focus on one of them, cut another to ribbons, while keeping your eye on the other (pick which, 1d100+15)

>> Whittle them both down, show the crowd what a predator looks like.(Assign damage dice if you beat my rolls, 1d100+15)

>> Write in

>HP:

>Swordsman #1: ??/??

>Broken Spearman: 16/20

>Thief: Did his best but ded

>Gerhard: 28/30

Rolled 35 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>2366238
>>>Focus on one of them, cut another to ribbons, while keeping your eye on the other (pick which, 1d100+15)
>Spearman, because he talked too godsdamned much.

Rolled 4 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>2366238
>>Focus on one of them, cut another to ribbons, while keeping your eye on the other (pick which, 1d100+15)

Rolled 75 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>2366238
>Focus on one of them, cut another to ribbons, while keeping your eye on the other (pick which, 1d100+15)

Swordman because if spearmen has any brain he will run toward a sword and try to grab it while we finish his friend

Rolled 80 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>2366238
>>>Focus on one of them, cut another to ribbons, while keeping your eye on the other (pick which, 1d100+15)
Spear dude has it coming

>>2366386
ignore this i'm a idiot.

Rolled 8 (1d8)

>>2366243
>>2366246
>>2366290
>>2366369
Going to go with this, spearman taking the hits wins. I’ll roll damage quick

Rolled 2 + 3 (1d6 + 3)

>>2366416
Writing now!

>>2366418
Did you died.

>>2367572
In the process of writing too :(
t'is a sad day!

Rolled 34 (1d100)

You raise your bident and point at the now unarmed spearman. “You talk to damn much.”

He desperately looks around for a weapon as he limps backwats and away from you as quickly as he can manage, fear filling his eyes as he notices the sword of the recently deceased and his only hope for putting up a fight is well out of his reach. You’ve made sure to keep yourself between him and the weapon. He half-hearted raises his hands and balls them into fists.

You rush forward, easily overtaking the hobbling man, and dodge underneath a sloppy punch. The head of your axe connects just below the knee of the man’s uninjured leg and you feel it smash into the delicate bones of the calf.

You rip the axe free, taking a huge gouge of flesh and exposing the broken bones underneath, and the man’s screaming fills your ears. The crowd waits with baited breath as they expect the man to fall over, his wounded legs unable to support him.

For some reason the man does not fall, murmurs full the crowd of why it could be. All questions are dispelled when the man suddenly begins to lift off of the ground, you and your bident the only thing keeping the man from toppling over. You slip your axe quickly into the loop on your belt and place both hands on the bident, which has cleanly pierced the spearmans torso just below his ribcage.

With a grunt of effort you continue to lift the man, the dual prongs of the bident the only thing preventing the man from sliding down the length of your weapon. You bring the man high over your head as he groans and screams, gripping at the bident and trying to wriggle free, and slam him down behind you. He crashes with a plume of sand and blood right next to the swordsman, who has retrieved his fallen partner’s blade and now wields both. The swordsman leaps back with a start. “By the gods!” But even through his fear he readies for another attack.

The spearman lies on the ground, doing his best to hold himself together and cling to life while you and the swordsman circle one another.

The crowd has gone ballistic, screaming and chanting and cheering your name and your title. You have given them a showing they won’t soon forget, and you haven’t even finished yet.

>>Let the swordsman come to you, toy with him until the crowds have had their fill (1d100+5)

>>Contiue with your aggressive streak, paint the sands with another man’s blood (1d100+5)

>>Write in

>>Use the roll with the action and beat mine, Bo3. If you beat mine roll a 1d8 for bident damage and a 1d6+3 for axe damage. And really sorry for not posting this sooner, got a promotion at work recently and it’s a whole lot more responsibility

Rolled 95 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>2367788
>Contiue with your aggressive streak, paint the sands with another man’s blood (1d100+5)

Rolled 2 (1d8)

>>2367809

Rolled 6 + 3 (1d6 + 3)

>>2367809

Rolled 2 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>2367788
>>>Contiue with your aggressive streak, paint the sands with another man’s blood (1d100+5)
Can we curb stomp the spearman op, that'd be great

Rolled 65 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>2367788
>>Contiue with your aggressive streak, paint the sands with another man’s blood (1d100+5)

Kinda wanted to do more for the crowd but maybe since the spearman is still alive we should first make sure the swordman is incapacitated first.

Rolled 4 (1d8)

>>2367822
No man let someone to the crowd decide if it lives or dies. It makes then happy.

Rolled 2 + 3 (1d6 + 3)

Time to make this swordmen armless. Also really man you shouldn't grab two weapons if you don't know how to use it.

>full damage with the axe.

poor bastard.

>>2367809
>>2367810
>>2367812
>>2367822
>>2367835
>>2367838
Writing, artificial crit I’ll use to activate shear on the axe and max damage.

>>2368443
Max damage on the bident I mean, you already maxed it on the axe

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461 KB PNG

>>2368443
>Max Damage

You can’t help but smile as you pull your axe back free from your belt and the swordsman shifts his uneasy grip on his second sword. You both stink of sweat and adrenaline but you can almost smell his fear ontop of all that. You rush forward and he tries to meet your charge with a lunge.

He lunges forward with one sword, the other held close to his body as if he is unsure what do with it, but the lunge is sloppy and you easily dodge by stepping inside of his reach and letting the blade slip past you. As you dodge you see an opportunity too perfect to resist, you bring your axe up and with a heavy swing crash it back down into the swordsman’s outstretched arm.

To the man’s credit, he doesn’t scream as his arm leaves his body. It must have happened to quickly for him to realize, and he quickly tries to lash out with his remaining and non-dominant hand.

You catch the bottom of his wrist with the top of your forearm, sending the weak slash upwards and diverting his attack as you drive your bident into the area just below his armpit.

You feel the end of the bident vibrate as each tip slides between ribs and punctures the soft and vital tissues beneath.

His eyes lock with yours and go wide with fear. He tries to speak but instead coughs and sputters on blood. At this range your bodies are almost touching and you can feel, not just through your bident, his body shudder as life slips through his grasp. The crowd has reached a fever pitch, the sound of their screams beyond anything you’ve heard before.

You pull the bident free and let his body drop to the sand before stalking back over to the loud mouthed spearman. Who has been alternating between screaming curses and begging for mercy since you’d last left him.

You stand over the man with a decision in your mind.

>>Kill him

>>Leave him

>>Let the crowd decide

>HP:

>Swordman #1 -2/15

>Spearman 02/20

>Thief: dead as fuckin dead

Gerhard: 28/30

>>2368488
>>>Let the crowd decide
Have these pitiful wreches' flailings entertained you enough yet or what?

>>2368488
We're a fucking boss wtf?
>>Let the crowd decide

>>2368488
>Let the crowd decide

So how should we execute him? Slowly? Fast? Brutaly?

>>2368488
>let the crowd decide.

Hes a goner anyways tho

>>2368488
>Let the crowd decide

>>2368488
>Let the crowd decide

>>2369660
>>2368740
>>2368577
>>2368551
>>2368507
>>2368506
Writing!

You put your foot on the man’s chest and raise your arms, scanning the crowd and shout, the crowd falls silent and listens for your words. “Criminals. Scum. Two of them died like the dogs they were. But this one still lives! What should be done with him, I ask all of you!”

The man weakly grasps at your ankle as curses. “Fucking... Kill... You.” You look down on him as slowly the crowd begins to call for his death. “Brave words for a dying man.”

You look up at the crowds and the figure you saw before appears at the edge of the ring. At this range you can make out its features, what little are visible. It’s form is cloak with a thick yellow cloak and it’s face obscured by a bronze mask, thin black lines form a T in the mask to allow vision and speech. It peers around the arena and raises its hands, bringing the crowd silent again.

You’ve been told that if the master of games raises its left hand, that means life, and the right hand means death. Silence reigns for a moment before the booming voice speaks again. “A rapist and thief lay dead, and it seems a murderer is soon to follow. It seems, the wages of sin is death.”

Slowly but surely it’s right hand is raised, signaling for you to finish to job. You increase the pressure on his chest with your foot, which evokes a wet cough from the man, and savior this moment as you decide how this man’s short few moments will end.

>>Hacker - brutal death

>> Something in your eye - “clean” death

>> Going to need to wash your hands - very brutal death

>> Write in

>>2369725
>Hacker - brutal death

Let the pain of his victim be inflicted upon him and that his scream can be heard by it as we send him to the afterlife!

>>2369725
>>>Hacker - brutal death

>>2369725
>>Hacker - brutal death

>>2369725

>> Going to need to wash your hands - very brutal death

Eh, let's be brutal, but not to brutal. Don't want them to think we're some sort of deranged animal.
>>Hacker - brutal death

>>2369725
>Hacker - brutal death

>>2369847
But-

Aren't we some sort of deranged animal?

>>2370146
Yea
But we don't want them to think that, do we?

>>2370146
Eh, we want to be able to interact with other gladiators. If we rip someone's throat out with our teeth, or chop his head off and drink the blood like it's Koolaid, I don't think anybody's going to feel like approaching us for a chat.

>>2370146
Nah man. Besides the real coin comea from the roman ladies buying us for the night.

>>2370215
This! The crowds are our lifeline. Before a gladiator is a fighter or a warrior, he is an ENTERTAINER.

>>2369738
>>2369797
>>2369799
>>2369847
>>2370085
Writing!

>>2372946
Just saw the thread is autosage, will put up a new one and post the update there

>>2372948
We're only on page 3.
With how slow /qst/ has gotten we're actually good for literally another week before falling off the board.