will feature you as a gladiator. there are 4 steps to victory: 1)write about how you got to be a gladiator, 5000 word limit. 5 writers will be voted out. 2)training. write about 2 days of training, 5000 word limit. 5 writers will be voted out. 3)the first fight will be 1v1v1v1v1, write about how you win this fight.4000 word limmit.4 players from each fight will be voted out, that means a total of 8, leaving 2 contestants. 4)the final fight. write how you win, 4000 word limit, one contestant is voted out.
on each fight you can choose one weapon, middle ages, not guns, bombs etc'.
the stories will be on my profile.
to get in, just post in here a comment(if there will not be enough players we can start from less).
1) I'm a gladiator because my mother was a glove and my father was a radiator. 2) I get out of bed, then I feel exhausted and call it a day. 3) I will win the fight by poking my opponents repeatedly with the sharp end of my blade. Then I will make a happy dance. 4) In the final fight, I will kidnap my opponent's dog and/or socks, and blackmail him/her/it into leaving the contest, thus making me the winner by walkover.
1)Born into a family of famous soldiers, Caius Justinius Decimus(Caius the Tenth, named after his father, his father before him, his father before him, etc.) was put under enormous pressure and discipline even as a child. Raised under a sword, he showed unerring discipline and skill. However, as he grew older and less susceptible to the brainwashing his family and teachers fed him, he grew less the perfect warrior and son and more of a weakling. His skills did not decrease, but he was seen as a failure due to the mercy he preferred to show his enemies as he grew older, and the idealism he viewed the world with. He was warned it would kill him someday, but did not listen. Finally, at the age of 18, he was cast out and disowned. So instead of following the proud tradition of his family(becoming a soldier) he became a gladiator instead. It was more difficult than he had initially thought, but it was the only option left to him. Disowned and penniless, Decimus poured everything he had into becoming a dimachaerus, and, thanks to his discipline and the training he'd had prior, he was accepted. 2) Decimus' two swords shook in his hand. The sica was poised in his left hand while the heaver, longer gladius was gripped in his right. A bead of sweat dripped from his forehead to the ground, and the heavy steel armor he was wearing bore heavily on his frame. Still, his trainer was unrelenting. "Ten double uppercuts!" called the trainer. Automatically, Decimus brought his gladius up in a wide sweeping arc that would dismember most opponents, repeating this four more times. "Put your back into it!" shouted the trainer in his face. "Your arm is weak. Use your body to gain momentum." Decimus did as instructed, this time stepping forward boldly and slashing his sica up quickly with a simultaneous twist of his torso. "Good! Drop to the floor! Twenty right hand left hands!" the trainer continued. Decimus dropped immediately to the ground on his chest, stopping himself from hitting the floor entirely with both hands, which were still clutching each weapon. He lifted his left hand off the ground and transferred his gladius to his left, then pushed himself up with his right. Then he dropped onto his left hand, transferring both sica and gladius to his right hand, and did a one-handed push-up again. He repeated this pattern twenty times. "Good, now hold it," said the trainer on the last one. Decimus felt his arm shaking as he struggled to hold himself up along with his heavy metal armor with just one hand. He gritted his teeth and counted...1...2...3...4...5... "Drop!" yelled the instructor in his face, and Decimus hit the floor. "Up!" Decimus jumped to his feet, the heavy armor clanking. "That's enough for the day, Caius Justinius," the trainer dismissed him. "Go home." I'm too lazy to do the second day. Go throw a fit about it. 3) See below. 4) I win by default.
