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File: Cell.jpg (24 KB, 640x480)
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The musky smell that permeates the cell is the first sensation that you register upon awakening; the small room reeks of the unsanitary conditions that your fellow prisoners endured throughout their time in the dungeon. Years of piled up filth and waste are evident from the pungent odour, and the visual appearance of the cell brings to mind the antithesis of cleanliness. Your only sources of light come from the nearby torch and the caged grate from above. Both of which provide much appreciated company that staves away the darkness. You’re rather thankful for their presence, as without their gift of light you’re almost certain that you would turn mad from the blackness.

You would reach out and receive the heat of the torch to additionally stave of the cold, but you find your hands and feet bound by iron shackles. They fetter your limbs and restrict any major movement away from the perimeter of your cage. The cold, metallic bindings serve to remind you of your place, your position in this new world and bring with them the hauntings of the past. You quickly remove yourself from such thoughts and scan your room for any other details of interest.

Your quick survey rewards you with the information of two companions within the cell: a rattling skeleton and a muttering old man. The skeleton is further evidence of the lack of supervision or care over the state of the dungeon, and the old man looks like he had turned insane long before your arrival within the cell. Whether from the torture of his captures, the insipid lifestyle of being chained to the wall or from old age, you feel that you will never know how this man came to be in this state of mind. Your thoughts are interrupted by the sudden arrival of footsteps echoing throughout the dungeon.

“Slave! It’s your turn.” A menacing guard appears in front of your door and leers directly at you. With a deft movement he opens the door and goes to unshackle you from the wall. A few moments later finds you walking out of the cell and into the hall, guided by another guard in front of you, and followed from behind be the guard that first approached you. Blocked off ahead and behind, you’re left obediently following the path laid out before you. At least now you’re closer to the wall torches and are more directly receiving their radiating heat.

You take a moment to revise your life before this moment, to recollect your thoughts and gather your memories. Who were you and why are you here?

>You were a soldier who lost the war and were captured by this nation
>You were a citizen of this nation and committed a crime
>You were born a slave and found yourself being sold to and from many masters
>You were a merchant who was raided by bandits on your travels, eventually being sold as a slave
>You were an aristocrat whose family was branded as traitors and enslaved
>You were a preacher advocating an outlawed religion
>Write-in
>>
>You were a preacher advocating an outlawed religion

We be christian now.
>>
>>1656911
>You were a merchant who was raided by bandits on your travels, eventually being sold as a slave
>>
>>1656911
>You were a soldier who lost the war and were captured by this nation
>>
>>1656932
>>1656926
>>1656921
I'll give 5 more minutes for another vote supporting one of these options before I'll roll for it.
>>
>>1656911
>You were a preacher advocating an outlawed religion
>>
>>1656932
Switching to this.
>>
>>1656911
>You were a soldier who lost the war and were captured by this nation
>>
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>>1657003
>>1656978
>>1656932
Sorry, I began writing before your votes came in
>>1656950
>>1656921
>You were a preacher advocating an outlawed religion

You remember the day where tragedy transpired in picture perfect detail. One moment you were preaching in a shed, the only place of respite within the oppressive regime, and the next, fire blazed all around you. When you and your congregation ran out of the burning building, you instead found yourself faced by a group of armed guards. Any who attempted to oppose the soldiers or escape were cut down mercilessly, regardless of their age or gender. You watched in silent horror as the people who you had just sung with either cower down or be torn to ribbons. Your own offer of sacrificing yourself to let your followers free was met with a mocking laughter before you and your people were chained up and forced to march.

The ensuing trek was one filled with emotions. As a devout follower and preacher, you had long been aware of the risks and consequences of your weekly masses. You could accept the persecution that entailed your faith. However, your followers had committed no crime, and in spite of your pleas, forced to endure the same judgement as you. The hushed sobbing of children throughout the night haunted you, and though you yourself can remain steadfast in your conviction, there is little you can do to ease the sorrow of your people. Your futures were bleak, however the ruling judge allowed for one chance at survival. One, singular ray of hope that would instead allow for both you and your congregation to live on: to fight in the arena as a gladiator, or face death under the crime of being a heretic.

The choice was agonising for most, as they were simple citizens who had never even held a blade in combat before. However, you were quick to rally them. If they managed to win, then they would be free to live on. Their goal wasn’t to murder; it was to survive, to show that the spirit of religion could not be extinguished against an oppressive force. And if they died, you did your best to administer faith and tell them that the Father would accept their pure spirits in the Afterlife. You’re not sure if that message was to ease them, or to ease yourself.

In another cruel game of mockery, the guards made your followers go up and fight first, leaving you for last. You could do little to quell your tears as the familiar voices turned into bloodcurdling screams of agony. Your once valiant speech turned into your deepest shame, as you had indirectly leaded your people from a quick and painless beheading into a torturous game for the entertainment of the nobles. Every night you went to sleep reminding yourself that the deceased are now with the Father, and that they are safe. They are safe. This mantra was another factor that separated you from madness.
>>
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Your recollection ended with you walking up the steps. You had exited the underground dungeon and instead found yourself behind a massive iron gate. Sunlight beamed from outside as you saw a wide arena of sand and blood appear before you.
“And now the preacher himself! The leader of this band of heretics makes his appearance! Can he flourish where his pact failed?” The announcing voice is swallowed up by the ensuing cries of the audience.
“Well, this is where your story ends priest. I’ll be sure to take good care of your robes; they fetch quite the price after all.” The guard behind you takes one last chance to mock you as the gates begin to rise.

From the opposite end of the arena your opponent stands. An actual gladiator, or perhaps another slave just like yourself. The moment that the gates have been raised enough, you dash out into the fray. The days spent locked underground did more than shake your faith, you spent those days coming to terms with your situation. You would win this battle, and then you would survive. Survival is the only thing on your mind right now as you continue to run forwards.

Various weapons lie away from you, scattered across the field. Which one do you go towards?
>The daggers (nearby)
>The sword (further)
>The spear (furthest away)
>No weapon, run directly at the enemy
>>
>>1657026
What weapon does the gladiator have my dude?
>>
>>1657026
>The spear (furthest away)
>>
>>1657029
He's the same as you and doesn't have anything. He'll have to run and get a weapon as well.

The weapons are placed so that the spear is in the center of the arena with the swords being placed further away from it and the daggers being the closest to the walls of the arena.
>>
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>>1657033
I should also mention that neither of you are armored and that you're both wearing simple tunics.
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>>1657033
Well ok then, in that case
>The spear (furthest away)
>>
>>1657026
>The spear (furthest away)

Our inexperience means that the dagger and sword would be a death trap. Spears are easy to use, and it gives us an advantage against weapons with less reach.
>>
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>>1657052
>>1657043
>>1657031
>The spear (furthest away)
Neither of you are even lightly armoured, sporting only a simple tunic each. In that case, the winner is the one who has the longest reach. You run as fast as your legs can take you and dash past the various swords and daggers that litter the ground. Your goal is the single spear in the center of the arena that can provide that reach and give you the greatest chance at victory. Your combat training is almost non-existent but you are at least fit enough to be able to average enough in your physical capabilities.

ROLL 1D100 BEST OF 3
>>
Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>1657062
Let's go boss
>>
Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>1657062
>>
Rolled 14 (1d100)

>>1657062
>>
File: Gladiator.jpg (15 KB, 375x500)
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>>1657094
>>1657068
>>1657063

>87
Your feet are swift and your steps are wide, taking you towards the centre of the arena before your opponent can arrive. He takes clear notice of this and instead opts to pick up one of the swords in consolation. The spear feels light in your hand, though you’re not certain on whether this is due to the material of the weapon or the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Your thoughts finally caught up to your body and the weight of the situation hits you like a sack of bricks. This realisation does little to your actual body, however the mental impact causes for you to waver for a moment. You currently hold in your hands the power over life and death, and one false move could lead to your arguably untimely demise.

A few more moments of stalemate as your opponent tries to find an opening allows for you to recollect your thoughts. You are not here to murder; you merely need to obtain victory through incapacitating your opponent… right?

How will you fight him?
>Attempt to incapacitate him
>Attempt to murder him

With your thoughts settled on that matter, you move onto solving the next issue at hand: the actual battle. Your opponent has had enough of waiting and finally makes his move. He rushes forward and knocks the spear out of the way before coming in with a stab. You step backwards and turn your body, allowing him to rush past you, and use the momentum of your spear to strike his arm. It’s not much, but you’ve managed to get a feel for how the spear moves and attacks. You need to pile up what little experience you have at combat in order to succeed.

He turns around and attempts to charge you again, but you merely raise the spear up and this scares him into backing away. Your stalemate lasts for another few seconds before he drops the sword and runs to where the daggers are. If he manages to reach him, then he might be able to use them as projectiles.

What do you do?
>Throw the spear
>Chase after him
>Stand your ground
>Write in
>>
>>1657112
>Attempt to murder him
>Chase after him, but use reach to our advantage
>>
>>1657112
>Attempt to murder him
>Throw the spear, and take the sword he droped
>>
>>1657112
>Attempt to incapacitate him
>Chase after him
>>
>>1657112

>>1657121
switching my vote to back this
>>
>>1657112

Going for >>1657121
>>
>>1657146
>>1657126
>>1657121

>Attempt to murder him
>Throw the spear, and take the sword he dropped

You have no excuse, no justification for the action you are about to commit. However, you need to survive. Your faith is rather lenient on the act of murder itself when done in certain situations; however there are certain sects that see it as an act of sin regardless of circumstances. The particular school of belief that you follow is a part of the former group, and fighting for survival definitely ticks the box for “certain situations”.

You move your spear onto your right hand as you begin to take aim. He’s running in a straight line and isn’t checking his back, making your targeting easy. One deep breath later, the spear is airborne and you move forward to collect the sword that he dropped. If your aim was true, then you wouldn’t need to use it, but if you missed or failed to hit a vital spot, then this sword should deal the finishing blow.

ROLL 1D100 BEST OF 3
>>
Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>1657153
>>
Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>1657153
since posters turned into lurkers, i'll just keep rolling
>>
Rolled 91 (1d100)

>>1657153
>>
>>1657166
I'm actually new to this board and don't understand how rolling works in the story.
>>
>>1657172
op called for 3 people to roll 1d100
ROLL 1D100 BEST OF 3

to roll type
dice xdx
in this case:
dice 1d100
in option field when posting
>>
Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>1657176
Thanks, think I got it
>>
Rolled 11 (1d100)

>>1657153
>>
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>>1657164
>>1657166
>>1657169

>91
The spear flies true and whistles through the air, piercing your opponent’s body before he can reach the daggers. The spear lodges itself into his head, killing him immediately. The scenario that is unfolding before you is one that you would have never even dreamed of just a week ago. However, your heating heart and fast breathing reminds you that this is reality. You offer him a quick prayer and hope that his spirit is accepted by the Father in the Afterlife. Had fate played out any differently, then the result would have been drastically altered. However this is how things came to be, and all that you can do is silently provide guidance towards the deceased.

You try to move onto giving your congregation their own but the announcer from before speaks up, drowning your thoughts away with his voice and the crowd’s resulting cheers.
“People of the stands, today we have witnessed the victory of the Priest over the Thief!”
“Please. I have endured much already, let me be free.” You plead with both the man and the crowds, though does little against their maddening cries.
“Come now little heretic, did you think that your crime could be pardoned with only one deathmatch? Do you not know the true conditions of your freedom? 100 victories will imbue this sinner with the right to be turned into a free man! What a benevolent ruling the judge has provided!”

100 victories? Your head beings to turn at the thought. Your legs buckle and you find yourself on your knees in the sand. How could they expect for a man with no experience to be able to survive such an ordeal? Your next realisation becomes firmly ingrained into your mind: they never expected for you to live. What you had initially seen as a mercy was just a matter of entertainment for your captures.

“And now ladies and gentlemen, for the final act of the day we present you with a special treat from our lord Manius Spinther! All of the day’s victors against creatures from the orient!” You are given almost no time to be in shock as the gates begin to open once again. Strangers from all across the world begin to pour out of the gate that you had exited, a mix of fellow slaves and professional gladiators, are welcomed by the crowd. Your bit had by now been long forgotten by these people, instead placing their attention in the collection of popular fighters.
>>
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You slowly pick yourself up and go to collect your spear once again. Your feet only allow for you to slowly hobble and your hands are still shaking as you pull the spear from the corpse. However, you tell yourself that there is no point in agonising over your fate right now. You need to fight in order to survive, or else the apparent thief would have died for nothing. The burden of the lives of your congregation and your opponent weighs down upon you, but you are strengthened by the will of the Father. Survival is what you need to accomplish, and if they so desire 100 victories, then you will attain those victories in spite of them.

Your confidence is shaken at the sudden roar that manages to overwhelm the cheers of the audience. The familiar sound of rattling chains hitting the floor comes next as the opposing gate is opened. From the darkness 3 unfamiliar shapes are revealed. Like a cat, they are pawed and walk on four legs. However their bodies are much too large and their teeth too broad. Whatever these creatures are, they are clearly hostile towards you and your fellow fighters.

The next roar act as a signal to the seasoned gladiators, who rush forwards towards the beasts. The slaves who remain by the gate are prodded with irons and goaded into following suit. You are on the edge of the arena, far enough from the beasts to be safe for the moment, but close enough to be targeted soon enough.

What will you do?
>Throw the spear again and impale one of the beasts
>Follow the gladiators and fight in close combat
>Stay behind with the slaves and provide support
>Write in
>>
>>1657231
>Stay behind with the slaves and provide support
>>
>>1657231
>Throw the spear again and impale one of the beasts and run to pick up those daggers in the ground
>>
>>1657242
>>1657247
I'll give it another 5 minutes for a tie breaker to occur before I roll between these two options.
>>
>>1657231
>Throw the spear again and impale one of the beasts
>Write in
Grab the sword
>>
>>1657231
>>Stay behind with the slaves and provide support
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>1657259
>>1657242
1 = Stay behind with the slaves and provide support
>>1657258
>>1657247
2 = Throw the spear again and impale one of the beasts and grab weapons from the ground
>>
Why does every quest use the same OP image?
>>
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>>1657273
I just found this image on google, I had no idea that someone else used it.

>Stay behind with the slaves and provide support
The gladiators who ran forwards to fight the beasts were probably trained enough to combat them and could deal with them on their own. The slaves who were prodded into the fray tentatively threw rocks and large clumps of sand towards the beasts, ignoring the weapons lest they accidentally hit one of the gladiators who were indirectly protecting them. This seemed the safer option to you and you moved towards their group, hurling stones and the such at the beasts.

Your rocks generally bounce of the monsters, but one or two of them manage to strike them in the eye and head, causing for them to stagger and open up an opportunity for the gladiators to move in for the finishing blow. This method goes relatively well with the gladiators taking the fangs and bites with their shields and then ensnaring the beasts with their nets and piercing them with sword and spear and trident.

As the final beast falls, the announcer speaks up again.
“The orients have a legend in their culture regarding tigers. That by wearing the skin and fur of those beasts they can incorporate the power of the animal into their being! How will the gladiators, who bested the animals fare against the power of both man and beast?”

The gate that contained the ‘tigers’ opens up once again to reveal a variety of men wearing the skin of tigers. Their appearance shows that they come from faraway lands and the number of ornaments signify some sort of religious importance. Though it was clear enough from their stances that they were warriors. You had heard legends of the bare fisted fighters, but your caution overtook your curiosity. They were your enemies in the arena, and you couldn’t let your guard down.

The two forces rush at each other, with the ‘tiger-men’ dancing around the gladiators. You and the slaves repeat your tactic of throwing rocks but they dodge that as well. The blades and weapons of the gladiators seem to move in slow motion as the tiger-men continue to weave and dodge before one of them decides to attack.

A single strike from their fist punctures through the gladiator’s shield and armour. As if magically enhanced, the tiger-man removes his fist without any apparent harm, leaving the now deceased gladiator to drop to the ground. This signals the other fighters to begin their assault and the number of casualties on your side begins to rise. On occasion you make a lucky hit and one of them fall, for every one of them, three of your own side fall.

Eventually one of the tiger-men begin to break off from the main skirmish and rush towards you and your group of slaves.

ROLL 1D100 FOR DEFENCE BEST OF 3
>>
Rolled 54 (1d100)

>>1657306
>>
>>1657306
>>
Rolled 11 (1d100)

>>1657306
>>
>>1657315
You might want to try rolling again mate.
>>
Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>1657306
>>
Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>1657320
shit,i fucked that up
>>
>54
You attempt to swipe at the tiger-man with your spear, but he ducks underneath your weapon and thrust his palm into your stomach. Though it didn’t pierce into your flesh, it did send you back a few good meters. You hit the ground hard, making a thud sound as you clump into a ball. You retch on the surface of the sand for a few moments, paralysed by the pain. Your insides feel like they’re on fire but you eventually manage to force yourself into standing up by slowly using the spear to lean upon. Your movement is reduced to a limp but you still have enough energy to swing the spear around. Though throwing it might be out of the question.

The tiger-man that attacked you had by now moved onto the other slaves, who had less luck than you in surviving his blows. Slaves fall and decorate the sand with their blood as the tiger-man continues his assault. The trained gladiators are still busy fighting the main force of tiger-men, leaving you and the remaining slaves against this fighter. Before he can move onto other targets, you rush at the man from behind and thrust your spear forwards. He reacts to your presence by swiftly dodging out of the way, but you still manage to scratch him with your attack.

This time when he goes in to attack you, you keep your spear close and move backwards to maintain your distance. He can’t enter into your domain without first facing your spear and the distance you’ve made can’t be instantly closed. Much like your first fight you’ve reached a stalemate against your opponent.

What do you do?
>Rally the slaves into attacking him
>Go on the offensive
>Stall for time until one of the main gladiators can come to help
>Write in
>>
>>1657372
>>Rally the slaves into attacking him
We were a preacher. We know how to use words.
>>
>>1657372
>Rally the slaves into attacking him
>>
>>1657384
>>1657377

>Rally the slaves into attacking him
“My fellow Men! We must band together in order to defeat this foe! The Will of the Father permits your everlasting soul to enter into His Court from this day forth! He will guide your hands into victory!” You call out to the retreating slaves. You put on your assertive tone and give this plea the most imperative voice that you can muster with your insides as damaged as they are. You make a few short thrusts at the tiger-man to make a show and give the slaves something to be courageous about.

After a few more jabs with the spear a rock comes from behind you. Though the tiger-man dodges it, he misreads your own attacks and you score a deep wound into his arm. As you pull out the arm limps uselessly by his side and blood begins to stream down. More rocks come from all sides and a few slaves arm themselves with the swords lying about. Four of you encircle the lone tiger-man, slowly closing in on him until he’s trapped. You then rush in on him, all striking down at the same time to restrict any movements.

ROLL 1D100 FOR ATTACK BEST OF 3
>>
Rolled 30 (1d100)

>>1657428
>>
Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>1657428
>>
Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>1657428
>>
>>1657434
>>1657438
>>1657443
>60
You all cut into the tiger-man’s flesh and bone, and his attempts to escape the various weapons only serves to further lodge the blades into his body. You make an effort to pull out the spear, but he follows suit and moves forwards with you, using his remaining arm to slam against the spear shaft, snapping it into two. With that final action, he falls onto the sand, lifeless. With that you have taken your second life of the day and quickly pray over his body. Turning around, you notice that the trained gladiators, despite taking heavy losses of their own, come out triumphant in their own battles. Once again the deafening roars of the audience overwhelm the arena, and they all applaud you for your victory.

“Warriors of the arena I congratulate you on your victory, heretic or not. You have all fought well today, and I bid you such luck in your future engagements.” The announcer finishes off the ceremonies as you and your fellow gladiators are guided out of the arena. You and the other injured, but gladiators are attended to and they are quickly sent on their way.
>>
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You however are held back at the last moment. You are instead directed towards a nearby room, and upon entering are faced with three imposing figures. Before you can open your mouth to speak, the man in armour motions for you to sit down.
“For a man of your faith, you fought rather ruthlessly today.” His voice is imposing and authoritative. His glare is one that you feel can pierce through your body.
“Now, now Varius, he must have had a lot of pent up stress to release. After all, his is the faith of abstinence after all.” The joking tone that follows almost relieves the tension within the room.
“Of course, had he been a true believer, he never would have been in this situation in the first place.” The tone of the final man is straight forward and blunt.

These three men are clearly prestigious their chosen fields, each having an aura of their own that crushes you in their presence. The man with the voice colder than iron begins to speak again.

“Simply put, you are here because we would like to hire you into our services. We saw your skill with the spear and the tongue and concluded that you were a cut above the rest of those pitiful slaves down in the arena. Your bravery for following that heretical religion in spite of our laws should also be noted. As you heard, my name is Varius Lentinus. I am the captain of the guardsmen and would prefer for you to join my men during your days as a gladiator.” They take turns introducing themselves to you, with the upbeat voice goes next.
“My name is Germanus Vestalis and I am a nobleman who wants you to be my personal gladiator.”
“I am Gaius Glycias. Leader of the local gladiator school. I will hone your skills as a gladiator and you in turn will bring me fame and prestige.” This man speaks slowly and pronounces his words with great effort.

“And if I refuse?” You ask.
“Then you will remain in the dungeons for your remaining 98 battles, gaining nothing but the rot of the cell and certain doom. You look like a smart man. I hope you make the wise decision here.” Germanus replies with a smile.
“And though you will be in our services, you will still be both a prisoner and a gladiator. The court ruling will be fulfilled and attempts at escape will result in execution.” Varius concludes with the three men looking expectantly at you.

What do you choose?
>Join Varius and his guardsmen
>Join Germanus and become his gladiator
>Join Gaius and enter his gladiator school
>Refuse them all and return to your cell
>>
>>1657507
>Join Varius and his guardsmen
>>
I'm going to go to sleep now and I'll conclude the thread when I wake up.
>>
>>1657507
>Join Varius and his guardsmen
>>
>>1657507
>Refuse them all and return to your cell
A man of faith and conviction does not falter, nor sells himself beyond the grace of the lord.
>>
>>1657507
>Refuse them all and return to your cell
>>
>>1657507
>Join Germanus

If we're his personal gladiator, we have an in with him and can potentially convert him to our religion.
>>
>>1657507
>>Join Varius and his guardsmen
>>1657507
>>
>>1657507
>>Join Gaius and enter his gladiator school
>>
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>Join Varius and his guardsmen
“I’ll join Varius and his guardsmen then.” Better to join the ranks of the guards and learn to fight than to eventually die a pitiful death. Your future now lies on the whims of these men, but you’ll be damned if you do nothing about it. The rest of your conversation involved getting into the details of your particular situation: though branded as a heretic, you would be given the rights of an average citizen and would be employed by Varius as a member of the town guard. You are to be called to enter the arena once a week, meaning that it would take about 2 years until you could truly become free. Obviously, any attempts to escape would result in your execution.

It’s become even more evident now. These people don’t particularly care about you or your ‘crime’ of faith. They’re just here to watch your 5 minutes of glory before you die. None of them expect for you to live, but you’ll show them your tenacity; that the Father would not abandon His Children so easily. Once all of the processing is complete, you’re motioned by the guards to where you need to go. Your new lodging is in the barracks of the guardsmen, where you will learn the ways of the guard.

As you walk out of the room and begin making your way out of the arena, a clamouring from behind you. One of the slaves that you had fought with is struggling against the guards. With surprising strength, he shoves them aside and rushes over in your direction, only to be suppressed by more guards. With a grunt of power, he manages to throw them off as well and continues towards you. It ends up taking 10 guards, one on each limb and the others pulling him back with a rope before he completely falls.
“PRIEST! I heard you in the arena! Was what you said about the Father really true? Am I really permitted into His court eternally? Please! Tell me!” His bellowing voice almost shakes the room.

What do you tell him?
>Of course my Child, all who accept Him will dine forevermore in his Glory (Bless him)
>Do not fear, you are already a part of my congregation (Appease him)
>Don’t say anything
>Write in
>>
>>1658758
>Do not fear, you are already a part of my congregation (Appease him)
>>
>>1658758
>Of course my Child, all who accept Him will dine forevermore in his Glory (Bless him)

I wonder if we can convert enough people to stage a prison break...
>>
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>>1658790
>>1658783
>Of course my Child, all who accept Him will dine forevermore in his Glory (Bless him)
>Do not fear, you are already a part of my congregation (Appease him)

“Of course my Child, all who accept Him will dine forevermore in His Glory. Do not fear, for you are already a part of my congregation. Your faith will save you from mortal coil henceforth.” You give blessings to the bound man and pray over him as he is dragged away. Perhaps this was your calling after all, to enter into the lion’s den and to convert people from there. Though your agreement forbids you from explicitly performing “sacrilegious rituals”, you were strangely enough allowed to continue spreading your faith through mass and teachings. Clearly, there was some disparity between what you had been being rights to and what the law dictated, as if you were some kind of exception. Nonetheless, you are now steadfast in the decision of spreading your faith in this new land.

The guards continue to guide you out of the arena until you reach the entrance. You had hardly noticed it in the arena and afterwards, but the sun had begun to set, dyeing the sky in a deep crimson. While you were distracted by the colour of the sky, a guide from the guardsmen approaches you from the side and introduces himself. The armour that he wears
“Good evening your holiness my name is Aetius,” He sneers at you with those words. “I will be both your guide and your fellow soldier for the duration of your employment. Come, I will take you to the barracks.” With his piece finished, Aetius begins his march back to the barracks. You would ask him questions, but you find yourself too mentally and physically fatigued from the day’s labours to ask him anything. All you do on your trek is look around and absorb the sights, after all this is how you will be potentially spending the next two years of your life.
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You pass the odd bar or pub during your journey. Walking past them, you hear the clanking of cups and the general chatter of the citizens.
“Hey, did you hear about that new gladiator? The priest they captured.”
“Yeah, I heard about it. 98 more victories until he is free apparently.”
“Do you think he’ll make it?”
“Hah! No way in hell. 10 silver says that he’ll fall long before he even meets Celsus.”
“I doubt even that, if the nobles are cruel enough he’ll have to go up against Fabius first, and you know how he toys with his enemies.”
“True true, but what about that other attraction? Before the priest.”
“You mean that blade dancer? I heard that they cut down 10 of our finest gladiators with only a single stroke!”
“Oh right, I remember them. But I was talking about that other one. That orient who could rip apart their opponent with their bare hands.”
“Pity about them to be honest, they must have had to watch their entire tribe of people be slaughtered in the final event.”
“Well who’s your bet going onto for these new warriors? The priest, the orient or the blade dancer?”
“I’m an indecisive man, you know that. But I’m also a gambling one, put me down for the priest.”
“You’ve made either a wise or foolish decision my friend, the odds of him being the last one of them standing is 1:30 you know?”

By the time you finally reach the barracks, the sun had completely set and the darkness of night had invaded.
“Welcome to your new home priest, come sleep in the rooms and be ready for the dawn tomorrow.” Aetius points towards a nearby building before making his way towards it. You follow suit and enter, walking towards the nearest bed and kneeling down. You never miss your evening prayers, regardless of your situation and you feel as if the Father blessed you for that. Your survival from the day’s trials was evidence enough of your faith showing its works. Then, the gates of reasoning broke within your mind. The emotions that you put aside and the fears that the day had shown overwhelm you as you quietly sob into your bed.

Your regret from leading your congregation into death, your guilt from committing the first two acts of murder in your life and the overall anxiety over your future all envelope your mind. You eventually make your peace, though it is only through your strength of faith and belief of spreading your religion in this place that you do so. You promise yourself that you won’t break. That this weakness will pass, and from the ground you will rise again.

You won’t waste your time here, you make an oath to spend your days.

>Plotting revenge against those that persecute you
>Getting stronger to overcome your challenges
>Rising the ranks of society
>Spreading your faith as much as possible
>Write in
>>
>>1658823
>Getting stronger to overcome your challenges
>Spreading your faith

We'll need to get stronger if we want to survive the arena. Plus, the more people we can get on our side, the better. Thus, a combination of the two would probably be good.
>>
>>1658823
>Write in
>After everything is over... You shall bless those who persecute you, and they will find the Father's forgiveness.
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>>1658823
>Spreading your faith as much as possibl
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>>1658856
>>1658850
>>1658836
>Getting stronger to overcome your challenges
>Spreading your faith as much as possible
>After everything is over… You shall bless those who persecute you, and they will find the Father’s forgiveness

This is an opportunity for new beginnings, this land is rife with those in need of faith, faith that you are willing to administer. There are lost sheep abound in this city and nation and much like how you were delivered from sin, you too will show them the Light. Those that persecute you only do so out of ignorance, what they deem anathema you call the true path. Your role as both a priest and a man of faith is to spread your faith to those who will listen, and from there you will grow as a collective. You believe that it is harmony, not strife that brings people together, and in order to achieve that, you need to set that example.

In order to become that example however, you understand the gravity of your situation. As it is now, this is a nation of bloodshed and war, and you’ve become caught up in that wave of violence. It is a lifestyle that you would not wish onto any of your people, but now that you’ve become a part of it, you need to strengthen yourself. Before you can preach to others, you must adhere to fixing yourself, and to do that, you must complete your remaining 98 battles. This new job as a guardsman was perfect for improving your physical body, and come the morning you will push every ounce of your being into growing stronger. The challenges that face you are puny under the power of your faith, and with the Father watching over you, you know that you can overcome any obstacle.

>Day 1 (6 days left until arena match)

You’re not sure when you fell asleep, but at the crack of dawn the barrack doors burst open. You and your fellow guards are called out onto the exercise fields.
“Today we have 5 new recruits joining us. Those of you who aren’t new should know the routine by now, those who are come forward.” The crowd disperses as you and four other strangers walk towards the voice, presumably the commanding guard.
“You all have your own personal reasons for joining the guardsmen, however now that you’re here you will abide by my word and any other officers above you!” You don’t see Varius anywhere around the barrack; he must still be in his room.
“For today, your schedule consists of two things: training and patrolling. From now until noon, you will train your bodies, and from noon until sunset you will patrol the city and stop any local disturbances. You will be paid every 7 days and your wages will start off at 15 silver a week. For your first exercise, you will run laps around the barracks. Go!”

ROLL 1D100 BEST OF 3
>>
Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>1658885
>>
Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>1658885
>>
Rolled 72 (1d100)

>>1658885
>>
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>82
The exercise field is probably somewhere around 250 metres in perimeter, and the sand does little to help your run. Despite that however, your cardio remains in surprisingly good shape as you make your rounds, with the burning in your chest only beginning to surface by your third lap. Your fellow guardsmen vary in their own abilities, with two keeping with you, one far ahead and one trailing behind. Your commander is watching you all from the centre of the field and shows varying signs of judgement on each of your abilities. The guard behind you collapses on his fifth lap whereas you can run no more by your eighth. Your haggard breathing slowly restores itself as you walk back towards your commander and the man who dropped out first. He doesn’t say anything to you but keeps watching the remaining guards as they run. Eventually, the final person stops at fifteen laps and you all join together in the centre.
“That was a warmup to let me know where you all stand in terms of physical abilities. Lucian, your father was right to send you here, but by the time I’m through with you, you’ll be fit to stand tall and call yourself a man.” His eyes are stern, but the commander’s voice seems soft when talking to the unfit boy
“For the rest of you, you were decent enough for who you were. However, if you want to become fully fledged guardsmen, you must be able to run at least thirty laps without stopping! Starting today onwards, you will run that amount before you receive any breakfast. Now that you’ve had some adequate rest, continue!”
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It took you about 10 more rest periods before you could accomplish the entirety of your course, and by the end of it you were lying on the sand alongside the rest of your fellow guards.
“Hey… why would… any of you willingly sign up for this?” Lucian is the first to speak, with his voice coming out in short bursts as he attempt to swallow as much air as possible.
“Did daddy force you to do some actual work instead of slacking around all day?” A female voice responds to him, similarly haggard but rested enough to speak full sentences.
“As a matter-of-fact… yes.”
“Well some of us are proud to be citizens of Askalor and want to provide service to their country. How’s that for a good reason?” Lucian whines in protest.
“Anyways, how about we introduce ourselves to each other before the commander comes back? Since we’re all probably going to be grouped together anyways,” she continues “my name is Junia Antias.”
“Lucian Canina…”
“My name is Cornelia Macer.”
“Titus Falco, man of honour and son of Vitus Falco. My bloodline is one that can be traced far back throughout the history of this kingdom and that holds many great heroes including Silvanus Falco and the legendary Manius Falco.”
“You’re a Falco? That explains how you could outrun any of us,” Junia quips. “well, that just leaves you now stranger, what’s your name?”

>Cassius Axilla
>Severus Orca
>Paulus Volso
>Write in
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>>1658963
Robert Ross
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>>1658972
Bob for short.
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>>1658963
>Cassius Axilla
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>>1658972
>>1658975
Sorry, I wasn't sure if you were memeing or not so I went with the other vote.
>>1658982
>Cassius Axilla

“Cassius Axilla. I am a priest and, as a result of a variety of events, I am here today to serve a sentence essentially.”

“I’ve heard about you!” Titus remarks. “You’re one of the gladiators from yesterday!” His eyes are almost shining as he rushes over to you, shaking you hand.

“I’m actually talking to a real gladiator! Albeit an inexperienced one, but one nonetheless! Tell me! What was it like to spear that thief? Or or to cut down one of those tiger-men? It must have been amazing being down there in the action! To bask in glory like a hero!” His barrage of questions leaves you almost no room to respond. All you can do is let out a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ every now and again.

“Please, I am not who you think I am. I did not participate in those games for the glory or the fame. I did it because I was forced to, think of me as nothing more than the slaves that thought yesterday.”

“A slave? But unlike them you’re now a guard here! You’re clearly a cut above of them, I can sense the potential that you hold within!”

“You may stop pestering the poor man now Titus.” Cornelia now speaks up. “He is a man of faith, not violence. Clearly, he’s a follower of the outlawed religion and was caught for practising it. Personally I think it’s regrettable what they’ve made of his faith.”

“Wait wait, hold up. He’s a follower of that religion? He’s not going to smite me with thunder and lightning right?” Lucian appears to have recovered from the exercise and puts his hands up in mock defence.

“Of course I wouldn’t. I don’t even know any magic that would even allow such spells in the first place. Not that I know any magic at all.” Your religion is one of the few whose faith does not allow for direct contact with otherly worlds. Instead, your communication with the divine comes from prayer and oaths, all one-way messages that you send to the Father in hopes of His Compassion.
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>>1659016
Oh shit I forgot to resize the image.

Soon, the commander returns and directs you to the canteen for breakfast. After which you all continued your exercises. During this time you all carried heavy bags, fought and learnt how to handle weaponry, information that will be vital to your arena matches. Eventually however, the sun reaches its peak, indicating the noon and you all put your practise gears away.

“From now until sunset, you are to equip your armour and patrol the city as I told you at dawn. You will all remain as a unit of 5 during this time and any disturbances are to be halted and reported afterwards. You may choose where you wish to patrol.” The commander relays what he needs to and leaves to his office.

“If you ask me, patrolling the market will bring us to some action.” Titus is the first to suggest a place to go.

“What about the taverns and pubs then? Drunken folk are always itching for a fight.” Junia responds with a grin.

“Listen guys, I don’t want to get into trouble on my first day here. I just want to get through this without any major issues. Let’s patrol the residential area.” Lucian is next to convey his opinion.

“There is always the option of the arena. There will be enough people there for a fight to occur and to have support from other guards to keep ourselves relatively safe.” Cornelia chimes.

Where do you want to patrol?
>Market
>Pubs
>Residential area
>Arena
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>>1659020
Fucking hell
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>>1659020
>>Arena
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>>1659020
>Arena
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>>1659020
>Pubs
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>>1659046
>>1659031

>Arena
“I support the arena option. It looks like a good compromise between what you all want and it’ll be helpful for me too. I’ll get to have a better idea on how arena fights work and the competition that I’ll be up against.” The discussion that the drunken men were having in the bars last night are still fresh on your mind. And you’d want to get to know the “orient and blade dancer” as soon as possible. Furthermore, you might be able to meet with the slave from yesterday and give him the complete mass that he missed out on.

“That makes 2 votes for the arena then.” Cornelia states it in a matter-of-fact manner and soon the five of you are making your way towards the place where you had just fought for your life. Your equipment consists of the most basic of what they can provide you, armed with only a spear and a gladius as a secondary weapon. The armour clinks with every step and, although relatively comfortable when compared to your rags, the heat of the sun makes the walk much harder than if you were wearing a tunic. Although, since the sun is high in the sky, you are able to properly take note of the various attractions. The roads that were almost desolate in the night are now bustling with people going about their daily lives. Arguments over the cost of commodities, discussions about the latest topics and the interactions between people cover your sight.
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“If all we’re going to do is walk around all day, I’m going to kill myself of boredom before I dehydrate from this heat.” Lucian groans as he trudges along.

“How about you give us something to discuss then? Tell us about yourself to keep us entertained.” Junia shoots back, it looks like the heat is starting to get to her too.

“What am I a clown for you to be placated with now? Fine I’ll do it but I’m doing this to increase our bond and help us all become the merriest of bands that this city of Ashos has ever known,” you detect some sarcasm coming from him “I am Lucian Canina, son of the wealthy merchant Thracius Canina. My father could talk a man into giving his wares away for nothing. Because of this I was able to live life relatively easily and became decadent in my dear father’s eye. So he sent me to the nearest barracks to get a job and become a real man and oh look we’re here we can finally do some barbaric fighting and gutting. I call dibs on the big guy that’ll attack us because we’re patrolling the god damn arena.”

“Quiet Lucian, don’t you hear that? The blood of heroes is being spilt as we speak. Come! Let us observe the battles!” Titus motions for you all to join him as he walks into the arena.

“You can follow that glory-seeking hound all you want; I’m going to stay here where it’s safe.” Lucian instead begins to walk around the perimeter of the arena.

“Are you sure it’s okay if we split up like this?” Junia questions, looking at you and Cornelia for support.

“Though the commander did tell us to stay together, if we’re all in the same general vicinity, we should be fine. There are plenty of other guards and patrollers so there shouldn’t be too much of an issue.” You reply. This seems like a good enough response as Junia shrugs and begins walking off into the arena. Cornelia instead decides to repeat Lucian’s plan and walks around the arena.

What should you do?
>Follow Titus and Junia into the arena to watch the battles
>Follow Lucian and Cornelia around the arena to patrol the citizens
>Go into the dungeons and attempt to find the slave from yesterday
>Write in
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>>1659061
We were given a job, so let's do our job.
>Follow Lucian and Cornelia around the arena to patrol the citizens.
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>>1659061
>Follow Lucian and Cornelia around the arena to patrol the citizens
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>>1658963
female warrior characters baka desu famalam
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>>1659061
>Follow Lucian and Cornelia around the arena to patrol the citizens

but if possible, also

>Go into the dungeons and attempt to find the slave from yesterday

we need to do our job, but that guy sounded pretty beastly and would make a good bud in the future.
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>>1659091
>>1659079
>>1659075
>Follow Lucian and Cornelia around the arena to patrol the citizens

Despite your desire to learn about the arena and its gladiators, you were given a task to perform and you will perform it. Alongside your faith came a sense of duty to completing the task provided to you, and since you’re technically a guard now, you’re going to perform your duty as a guard. You follow after Lucian and Cornelia who are walking around making small talk.

“…so your father really is the Thracius Canina?”

“Yeah… I’m really proud of what he managed to do for himself considering where he began. Although it’s not like any of that ambition really rubbed off on me.”

“Still, I’m surprised that such a man would resort to sending his son off to the barracks as a disciplinary measure. I thought he’d try to take measures into his own hands.”

“Oh trust me he did, but for the vicious merchant that he is, he’s a huge softie when it comes to his family. He never even spanked me growing up. Why did you join the guardsmen anyways? You look disciplined enough that your parents wouldn’t send you off.”

“Me? Well my reason was rather selfish compared to all of yours. I just needed some money and this was the fastest job that I could find taking participants. Much less noble than yours Cassius.”

“Please, I am just a humble man. There is little need for you all to admire what I do. Even I am not without sin.” The memories of your murdered victims come to mind particularly.

“You’ve definitely got a story though. It takes some serious balls to be following your religion, especially with how hard they’re cracking down on it too. I’ve got to ask, are the rumours of you lot all drinking the blood of babies true?”

“What? No! That’s preposterous. Who would make such a lie? My Faith is one that promotes unity amongst all peoples under the name of the Father! That is all that we believe in. Such rituals are barbaric beyond belief!” Slanderous! Blasphemous! There is little that you cannot tolerate however lies and false accusations about your belief is a topic that sends you into a rage. You almost bark at Lucian before realising that he meant no real harm; you quickly apologise to him. As much as you have preached forgiveness and benevolence, it appears that you too have as much to learn as your congregation.

“Okay… touchy topic then. What about this question then, why did you become a priest? Surely you know of the risks that come with your beliefs, and it’s not like your god is one that would vengefully smite you for apostatizing right?” Well that question is a little personal.

Why did you choose to become a priest?
>You were born into it
>You were saved by a missionary
>The faith itself appealed to you
>You were born again from its teachings
>Write in
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>>1659119
>Write in
>Our nation. as it is now, will crumble under the weight of its degeneracy and crimes. I believe that our Father will preserve our great state from the fate that awaits it, should we follow His teachings.
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>>1659119
>The faith itself appealed to you
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>>1659119
>>The faith itself appealed to you
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>>1659119
>The faith itself appealed to you
>You were born again from its teachings
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>>1659172
>>1659138
>>1659136
>>1659129

>The faith itself appealed to you
>Our nation. as it is now, will crumble under the weight of its degeneracy and crimes. I believe that our Father will preserve our great state from the fate that awaits it, should we follow His teachings.

“Just the belief itself seemed to appeal to me. It isn’t extravagant like some of the other, more popular religions. Instead of grand ceremonies and apparel, we have simple, humble rituals and believers. Though the connection to our deity is less obvious, I feel that there is a deeper sense of unity between the Father and us children. I became a priest specifically because I wanted to share this unity with whoever would accept it. However, another thing of note is our nation itself. As it is now, will crumble under the weight of its degeneracy and crimes. I believe that our Father will preserve our great state from the fate that awaits it, should we follow His teachings. The rituals of other religions, while I have no real issue with them, bring attention away from the connection and towards the material world. It festers greed and vanity over the harmony between the common man, an issue that could be resolved if more people could come to understand my religion.”

“That’s uh, quite the sermon you made there Cassius. You’ve definitely got a way with words, I’ll give you that. Um, can you help me out here Cornelia?”

“I think that is quite the noble goal. However, I’m sure that you know that those thoughts can be considered treason against the High Priests and you may be branded a heretic, correct?”

“And that’s why I’m here today.” The fact is solemn, but you have long made peace with the possibility of being caught. Being turned into a gladiator and guardsman, not so much.

“And if you could go back and change it, to before you were captured, would you?”

“No. Because I believe that this is my purpose in my life, so spread my faith and to see it blossom throughout the world.”

“Very interesting…” Cornelia raises her fist to her mouth and begins to ponder on your words. Lucian on the other hand had gone over towards a nearby conflict.
>>
“Now now my good men, what seems to be the issue here?” His face and tone is worlds apart from the man you had just been talking to. The casual and youthful boy had almost completely turned into a suave merchant, his voice flows like honey and you quickly pull yourself from his lull before you are completely hypnotised.

The two civilians pause for a moment before recollecting themselves and returning to their fight.
“This man over here lost a bet and now won’t pay up for it!”

“Lost the bet? It was obvious that the match was rigged! No way in hell that I’m going to pay for a botched fight!”

“The circumstances don’t matter! All that does is that my fighter won, and yours lost! Now pay your damn fine!”

“Or what? You’ll hit me? My guards will skewer you the moment you even touch me!”

“Look, I’m sure that you have your reasons but you’re in a public place. People need to go about their dailies lives, and I’m sure that upstanding citizens such as yourselves wouldn’t want to get in the way of the routine, correct? So let’s all calm down and talk about this rationally. Now, how much does this gentleman owe you?”

“50 silver officer. That’s 2 weeks’ worth of his wages.”

“Okay, and now, why do you think the arena match was rigged good sir?”

“Because my fighter would have never lost the way he did. He must have been poisoned or something for him to hobble around the arena like that.”

“So in the end it just turns into a game of your word against his word isn’t it?” Lucian makes an audible sigh before turning to you both again. “Can you help me out here? What should we do?”

How do you respond?
>The loser should pay the winner
>The loser should keep his money
>More information needs to be obtained before a judgement can be made
>Write in
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>>1659185
>More information needs to be obtained before a judgement can be made

But by default, the loser should pay the winner. If the match was indeed rigged, then the winner's money is forfeit, and punishments will be done accordingly.
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>>1659187
Supporting
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>>1659185
The loser needs to provide evidence or at least some very logical reasoning as to why he believes his fighter lost.

At the same time, two weeks worth of wages is a substantial bet, and it would make sense that the guy would seek to cheat in a wager like this.
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>>1659232
>>1659197
>>1659187

>More information needs to be obtained before a judgement can be made

“Personally, I feel like there’s too much missing here for a decision to be made. Where is this fighter and can we talk to him?”

“Whoa when did guards become this involved? I just want my money, we don’t need to launch a full investigation for this.” The winner makes some more protest but is eventually silenced by Lucian.

“I agree, we should see what the fighter himself has to say about this. Unless this was a death match?” Cornelia states.

“Luckily for me, it wasn’t. Anyways, you, go bring out both fighters and see what they have to say for themselves.” The loser points to one of his guards and they soon disappear into the arena.

“While we wait, how about we talk a bit more about the topic.” Lucian continues talking in his strange tone. “You said that your gladiator was hobbling?”

“Yes sir. From the moment that he entered to the moment of his defeat he looked completely haggard. I pride myself on my eyes, and I can clearly contest that he was practically limping on one foot the entire time! Ask my companion here if you wish, clearly something had happened beforehand.”

“Fine. I admit that maybe your gladiator was worse for wear than he would have normally been. However that doesn’t excuse you from paying the debt that you owe.”

“Hah! See? He even admits it! It’s obvious that he had a part to play in crippling my gladiator.”

“Do you see what I must endure officer? Every little issue is blamed upon me! Are we not gamblers here? Is luck not a factor in deciding the victor from the loser? He picked the incorrect gladiator to bet on and now I must suffer for it? Do you not see my woe, officer?”
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The guard that went to collect the gladiators soon returns, and he brings with him a familiar face.
“PRIEST! It is you again! I am glad to see you! I am a part of your congregation! That is what you told me yesterday was it not?” The slave that you met almost leaps with joy the moment that he notices you. In spite of his energy however, you notice his body is covered in wounds. Cuts and bruises cover almost every inch of his body, most of which you suspect to not have originated from the arena battle. You think you’re starting to get the bigger picture of things here.

“Priest? What is this nonsense. What is this slave talking about? Answer me officer!” The loser turns his head towards you, confusion and rage in his eyes. This is going to be a peculiar thing to describe so you decide to cut out a few details for his sake.

“Yes. I am a priest of my religion and yesterday this slave came up to me for a blessing. However, in order to do so he had to go up against a number of guards. I assume that he was beaten afterwards, which explains why he was in such bad shape.”

“They hurt me, but they could not stop me from praying!”

“Wait wait wait. So, what you’re saying, officer, is that YOU are the reason as to why I lost the bet?”

“…Yes.”

“Well what are you going to do about it?”

How do you respond?
>Nothing, you were the one to lose the bet and no foul play was involved by the other party
>I’ll pay back your debt (You will use your weekly wages to pay for this for the next 4 weeks)
>The bet is off. This gladiator was in no fit condition to fight today.
>Write in
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>>1659242
>Nothing, you were the one to lose the bet and no foul play was involved by the other party.
Just because we're a priest doesn't mean we're a pussy.
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>>1659242
He should have checked in with the slave to see if he was in fighting condition, it is not our fault.

>Nothing, you were the one to lose the bet and no foul play was involved by the other party.
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>>1659242
>>Nothing, you were the one to lose the bet and no foul play was involved by the other party
>>
>>1659265
>>1659260
>>1659252
>Nothing, you were the one to lose the bet and no foul play was involved by the other party

“It’s not my fault that you failed to check on your own gladiator before putting in such a high wager.”

“WHAT? How dare you! The role of an officer is to aid those unduly wronged! And I am that one in this case!”

“Sir, I’m afraid the decision here is unanimous. Please pay your fine to the victor and leave, or else we will be forced to report this as an official disturbance.” Cornelia steps up, almost threatening the man with her presence. He looks around for support, but once he sees that everyone’s mind is set he pulls out a small bag and hands it to the victor, who empties it and counts out the coins. Satisfied, the victor thanks you all and leaves with his money.

The loser takes one final glare at you before leaving the arena, grumbling as he makes his way into the crowd. You take a moment to watch him leave before you turn around to face the slave. If anything, he’s a symbol of your faith. Your goal of converting the people of this nation to your faith had already begun, even if it’s just one person, even if it’s just a slave, that one person will be the one to open up the cascade of followers that will eventually sprout forth.

He’s still looking at you expectantly, so you bless him and pray over his body and soul before he’s guided back into what you presume to be the dungeons. But before he completely disappears, he shouts out one last time.
“Priest! My name is Brius! Brius Faelan! I thank you for saving me!”
>>
After that, your patrol goes by relatively undisturbed. The sun continues to trail down the horizon and eventually Titus and Junia exit the arena and meet up with you. You trade information and explain what had happened. They ended up simply watching gladiators fight and were especially interested about the fighters that the drunken barmen were talking about. Celsus and Fabius: incredible fighters of brawn and skill who can easily go up against a multitude of seasoned gladiators and come out unscathed. For now however, you’re not too concerned with them. If you do end up fighting them, then that will be it, until then you’re focused on the present.

“So what was that all about Lucian?” Cornelia asks as you all begin to walk back to the barracks. “When you were intermediating between those two men you almost changed into a different person.”

“Oh… that. I probably inherited that from my father, what with his own natural skill at talking. Honestly, I would have presented that side of my to you all, but the physical exercise this morning broke any chance of me showing myself as being cool.”

“Come now Lucian, you will have many other opportunities at fame. Don’t let a bad introduction get in the way of what you’re destined for!” Titus has been enthusiastic from the moment he left the arena, as if watching the fights unlocked even more passion for glory within him.

“Yes. But in order to achieve that fame, you actually perform need your job Titus.” You remind him that his job was to patrol, and not be distracted by the events around him.

Eventually you all make it back to the barracks and have dinner before changing and entering the rooms for the night. It’s only been a single day, but strangely enough you’ve become accustomed to the way of life in Ashos, and being able to openly talk about your religion without fear of persecution is a privilege you are both thankful and weary for. You have no idea what the higher ups were thinking, putting you in this position, but as you begin your evening prayer those thoughts fade away into the background.

Tonight, you pray for your deceased congregation, the souls of the two men you murdered and for the safety of Brius Faelan.

----------------------------------------------------------

And that concludes this thread! It was my first attempt at being a DM so I hope you weren't too bored by my story. If you have anything you liked, wanted to change or just general questions feel free to tell me now. I'll stay up to answer a few questions before I go to sleep.

Also, how do I archive a thread on suptg?
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>>1659319
Thanks for running
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>>1659319
Just got finished reading it. Was pretty damn good for a first timer. Hope you continue it. Only thing I might recommend is waiting a little longer for people to vote on decisions, since it seems a few times you went ahead and were already writing an update when people had changed their votes. Otherwise, it was pretty good.
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>>1659394
>>1659319
This mostly, it was fun to actually read and I rather enjoyed that you left the details to be vague enough to just be a 1:1 of Rome back in the day before Christianity occurred.
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http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/requestqstinterface.html

here you go OP
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>>1659319
Thanks for running, you did pretty well.
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We got so far. Did we lose it all? Is this the end? Did it even matter? Does it even matter???




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