Cool!

Alright-

Name; Alexander Miren (my-ren)

Age; 17

Group; gladiator 

Weapon of Choice; he can do sword, spear, and hand-to-hand combat, but sword is his strongpoint.

Appearance; short curly-ish black hair, dark grey eyes, he is physically fit and while comparitively thin, has a bit of a thick neck and bullish jaw. Has thousands of scars from the ring.

Personality; closed off, doesn't care much for anyone but himself. He was stolen from his village when he was a boy, and forced to be a gladiator. He did not fool himself with self-delusion about kindness; he fought. He kept on fighting. He is not naturally cruel, and does have a kind side, but it is almost never seen. Anyway, he's kind of a big deal in the gladiator world and is revered, but only revered in the way of people marveling at the strength of a beast. He is not respected. He is cold out of necessity, because being a gladiator, he can't feel, without driving himself mad.

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Update!: Okay, I think I'll accept eight charries, including mine. So two for each group.

But we will start when we have four.  

And btw Admin, That's pretty cool! It looks like Ancient Rome is a hot topic right now!(I actually did some research, and my characters name means "Curly Brother" in ancient Roman)

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C'mon guys, post!

Name: Felix Cyprian

Group: Gladiators 

Weapon of choice: Gladius 

Appearence: Long ragged brown hair and cold grey eyes, not very big but strong.

Personality: Cold, has a strange sense of humor and causes fear in others.

Just one more!

ONE MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!

Joinin'!

Name: Renamus Crepin (Goes by Ren)

Group: Huns

Weapon: Bow or sword.

Apperance: Tall, black long hair, dark brown eyes.

Personality: Harsh temper, resourceful, laughs easily.

Ok! who shall start?

Name-

Group- Vandals

Weapon of Choice- A lighted torch, or a short chisel (more dangerous than you might think)

Appearance- By all means, she could be a boy, but she is not. Dark brown, wavy hair that's chin-length and long, gangly legs. She may not look strong, but she is, and very fast as well.

Personality- Very level minded, but can get frenzied in the heat of battle. Sometimes comes up with remarkably smart, extremely crazy plots to destroy major landmarks. 

Ok, I'll start. We have room for 1 vandal and 2 Saxons.

Germanus~

I step into the room. General Argentina stares grimly at me as I bow.

"A group of Saxons are pushing at our back war, and they took out all of our archers. What shall we do?" I questioned.

"Well, as one of my captains, you hold all of our past strategies," Argentina states. "Now go fetch Remanus, will you?"

I cough as I enter the room; the general still doesn't notice me. "Sir," I say.

He says, "Oh yes, yes of course." 

He hasn't been himself lately and I am worried. Watching him carefully, I ask if he's alright.

"What? Hmmm? Oh yes! I'm fine, you see." Hobbling off, I wonder if I'll have to take command; it wouldn't be pretty.

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Please post, some one!

--Alexander Miren--

I wipe a drop of sweat from my eyes. The sun beats down onto the hard-packed dirt of the arena, making the usual smells of blood, dust, and worse things seem all the more unbearable.  

My opponent is kneeling at my feet, begging, crying, praying to Jupiter and me for mercy. My sword is at his throat. The crowd is cheering. 

I wait. Building the suspense. But after five or so minutes, the suspense is gone and the crowd is nothing but uncertain. I realize, all of the sudden, that I am hesitating. That is not acceptable. That is not how I got this far, and it won't get me further, if-

And then I realize why I'm hesitating. 

My opponent is my age. Younger, even. His pale skin and blond hair are stained with a few weeks worth of filth. This is a new recruit.

I step away, and brandish my sword in a playful sort of way. "Let's give this lad a chance!" I say, in a voice elevated so everyone in the arena can hear. "These good people didn't pay their hard-earned wages to see such a quick fight." The boy stumbles backwards, a startled look on his face.

I spread my arms wide. "Take your best shot!"

The boy tries and fails miserably. I tackle him. I lean close to him for  a split second, just long enough for me to whisper; "I'm going to help you escape. When I do, run. Run and keep running. Don't look back."  I rise.  

He hurls himself at me, I grab him by the middle and lift him above my head. The crowd gives a deafening roar. I pace around, showing him to the crowd. Laughter. Finally, when I'm close the the edge of the pit, I muster all my strength, and launch him into the air. He grabs the rim---

*Okay, Alias here; just FYI, the arena I'm imagining is kind of like the colosseum but with a huge pit in the middle where the gladiators fight. Okay, back to the story!*

---he grabs the rim and hoists himself upwards. He then, to my surprise, turns around and gives me a hand. 

"GO!" I shout, after tossing him my sword, and run in the direction of the oncoming guards.

I fight them. It's futile, but I fight them. Until something hard hits me in the back of the head and the world turns black.

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