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He’d had worse days, and he’d had better days. The arena was kind to no one but this felt as if it had drained him more fully than he had been in a long while. It was a tempting thought to pull himself from the next day’s docket of fights to give himself a moment of rest, but equally he needed to continue fighting to build up his funds. There had been a redheaded woman in the market the other day that had lifted his hopes, but in the end she had not been who he was looking for. It was that reinvigorated hope that kept him fighting, kept him trying to win and gathering the prizes that were available to him as a free man now instead of having to hand over a majority percentage to his master.
Dragging himself to the baths, Dima disrobed without shame, twisting and trying to stretch out the muscles in his back until they gave a crack. He was getting old. Old for this profession at the very least. If he wanted to survive he should try to find a different path, some other trade that would keep him afloat and allow him to stock away extras. The question was if he wanted to survive. The longer he waited, the more likely Olena had died already, his brother had died already. If there was no one left for him to find, what was the point in continuing on this path of pain and death.
Most of the pools in the bath house were full, so he moved to the one that had the fewest occupants so he could stretch out, the warm water enveloping his muscles as he gave a heavy sigh and closed his own eyes for a long moment. The boy sitting across from him was one of the younger fighters in the arena, owned still and looking barely older than he himself had been when he first fought. He’d seen the boy’s battle, perhaps the reason Dima was reminded of a younger boy from a foreign land who had once been thrown into an arena. He was quick, agile, and fought with a need to survive that he was all too familiar with. Giving him a nod and a slight smile, he wasn’t one to speak up in the baths all that often, but seeing so many similarities between his past and this one’s future, he felt the urge to speak.
”You fought well today. Quick, that’ll save you in the future if you keep your head on.”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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He’d had worse days, and he’d had better days. The arena was kind to no one but this felt as if it had drained him more fully than he had been in a long while. It was a tempting thought to pull himself from the next day’s docket of fights to give himself a moment of rest, but equally he needed to continue fighting to build up his funds. There had been a redheaded woman in the market the other day that had lifted his hopes, but in the end she had not been who he was looking for. It was that reinvigorated hope that kept him fighting, kept him trying to win and gathering the prizes that were available to him as a free man now instead of having to hand over a majority percentage to his master.
Dragging himself to the baths, Dima disrobed without shame, twisting and trying to stretch out the muscles in his back until they gave a crack. He was getting old. Old for this profession at the very least. If he wanted to survive he should try to find a different path, some other trade that would keep him afloat and allow him to stock away extras. The question was if he wanted to survive. The longer he waited, the more likely Olena had died already, his brother had died already. If there was no one left for him to find, what was the point in continuing on this path of pain and death.
Most of the pools in the bath house were full, so he moved to the one that had the fewest occupants so he could stretch out, the warm water enveloping his muscles as he gave a heavy sigh and closed his own eyes for a long moment. The boy sitting across from him was one of the younger fighters in the arena, owned still and looking barely older than he himself had been when he first fought. He’d seen the boy’s battle, perhaps the reason Dima was reminded of a younger boy from a foreign land who had once been thrown into an arena. He was quick, agile, and fought with a need to survive that he was all too familiar with. Giving him a nod and a slight smile, he wasn’t one to speak up in the baths all that often, but seeing so many similarities between his past and this one’s future, he felt the urge to speak.
”You fought well today. Quick, that’ll save you in the future if you keep your head on.”
He’d had worse days, and he’d had better days. The arena was kind to no one but this felt as if it had drained him more fully than he had been in a long while. It was a tempting thought to pull himself from the next day’s docket of fights to give himself a moment of rest, but equally he needed to continue fighting to build up his funds. There had been a redheaded woman in the market the other day that had lifted his hopes, but in the end she had not been who he was looking for. It was that reinvigorated hope that kept him fighting, kept him trying to win and gathering the prizes that were available to him as a free man now instead of having to hand over a majority percentage to his master.
Dragging himself to the baths, Dima disrobed without shame, twisting and trying to stretch out the muscles in his back until they gave a crack. He was getting old. Old for this profession at the very least. If he wanted to survive he should try to find a different path, some other trade that would keep him afloat and allow him to stock away extras. The question was if he wanted to survive. The longer he waited, the more likely Olena had died already, his brother had died already. If there was no one left for him to find, what was the point in continuing on this path of pain and death.
Most of the pools in the bath house were full, so he moved to the one that had the fewest occupants so he could stretch out, the warm water enveloping his muscles as he gave a heavy sigh and closed his own eyes for a long moment. The boy sitting across from him was one of the younger fighters in the arena, owned still and looking barely older than he himself had been when he first fought. He’d seen the boy’s battle, perhaps the reason Dima was reminded of a younger boy from a foreign land who had once been thrown into an arena. He was quick, agile, and fought with a need to survive that he was all too familiar with. Giving him a nod and a slight smile, he wasn’t one to speak up in the baths all that often, but seeing so many similarities between his past and this one’s future, he felt the urge to speak.
”You fought well today. Quick, that’ll save you in the future if you keep your head on.”
He wasn't blind to how the boy moved away, and he felt a pang of sympathy in his chest for him. Perhaps it meant nothing, but he remembered making similar moves in defense out of fear that someone else might try to hurt him or take advantage of his smaller size when he was younger. Only years of fighting and training himself had finally rid him of that anxiety. Dima made no move to follow him, in fact he stayed as still as he could while enjoying the bath and shifting as muscles finally unwound from the battles of the day.
"You've no need to fear me, boy. I was where you were once."
The blonde man kept his tone as reassuring and calm as he could, ducking under the water entirely to remove any traces of sweat and grime from his face and hair before surfacing once again. He hadn't missed the other's desire to get out of the arena, and he gave a nod of agreement. If he had any idea of where else he could go, he would leave too. But there was money to be made here, and that money was needed to find and free any of his family that still lived. At some point he needed to set off on his journey to find them, and there had been a tempting missive that a temple scribe had read to him. He hadn't responded to the spy master of Colchis, nor did he know what the other man might want of him, but it was a tempting offer nontheless.
"When were you taken? I managed fourteen years with my family before I was brought here. Though they were far from here, you at least look Greek."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
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He wasn't blind to how the boy moved away, and he felt a pang of sympathy in his chest for him. Perhaps it meant nothing, but he remembered making similar moves in defense out of fear that someone else might try to hurt him or take advantage of his smaller size when he was younger. Only years of fighting and training himself had finally rid him of that anxiety. Dima made no move to follow him, in fact he stayed as still as he could while enjoying the bath and shifting as muscles finally unwound from the battles of the day.
"You've no need to fear me, boy. I was where you were once."
The blonde man kept his tone as reassuring and calm as he could, ducking under the water entirely to remove any traces of sweat and grime from his face and hair before surfacing once again. He hadn't missed the other's desire to get out of the arena, and he gave a nod of agreement. If he had any idea of where else he could go, he would leave too. But there was money to be made here, and that money was needed to find and free any of his family that still lived. At some point he needed to set off on his journey to find them, and there had been a tempting missive that a temple scribe had read to him. He hadn't responded to the spy master of Colchis, nor did he know what the other man might want of him, but it was a tempting offer nontheless.
"When were you taken? I managed fourteen years with my family before I was brought here. Though they were far from here, you at least look Greek."
He wasn't blind to how the boy moved away, and he felt a pang of sympathy in his chest for him. Perhaps it meant nothing, but he remembered making similar moves in defense out of fear that someone else might try to hurt him or take advantage of his smaller size when he was younger. Only years of fighting and training himself had finally rid him of that anxiety. Dima made no move to follow him, in fact he stayed as still as he could while enjoying the bath and shifting as muscles finally unwound from the battles of the day.
"You've no need to fear me, boy. I was where you were once."
The blonde man kept his tone as reassuring and calm as he could, ducking under the water entirely to remove any traces of sweat and grime from his face and hair before surfacing once again. He hadn't missed the other's desire to get out of the arena, and he gave a nod of agreement. If he had any idea of where else he could go, he would leave too. But there was money to be made here, and that money was needed to find and free any of his family that still lived. At some point he needed to set off on his journey to find them, and there had been a tempting missive that a temple scribe had read to him. He hadn't responded to the spy master of Colchis, nor did he know what the other man might want of him, but it was a tempting offer nontheless.
"When were you taken? I managed fourteen years with my family before I was brought here. Though they were far from here, you at least look Greek."
