Surrounding the arena is a huge circle of benches where spectators watch and cheer on the gladiators. Above them rise special VIP towers where nobles, government officials and even royalty and high ranking clergy can spectate the arena. Cheering, heckling and jeering echo from their seats and many stand up and roar when the battles are particularly glorious.

Beneath the spectator stands, other gladiators await in the dungeons and training areas able to watch the fights through barred windows. Talk of the upcoming fights and records goes around, many gladiators eager to claim the championship for their own and some conspiring with others for their own gain. Few are aware of the politics behind the arena, but they exist and the wardens and guards of the arena are all to well aware of these things...

OOC: This is a roleplaying thread where players can roleplay their characters watching arena matches as they unfold. You can even respond to things actually going on in match threads by moving between different arenas on different sidelines. Many dungeons and training areas allow multiple arenas to be viewed at once. The Colosseum itself is a large network of smaller arenas all arranged in circles surrounding one grand circle (which is usually reserved for training year round until the annual championship games).
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:09, Wed 23 Mar 2016.

Quiet as the night, the Cold Rider stood by himself in a dark corner of the dungeon lobby where free gladiators awaited their next match. He was not scheduled to fight anyone today, but often came to the arena dressed for battle just to watch. He was more creature than man, rumored to be among the abominable undead because of his skeletal face, though the mages who scanned his essence when he joined the gladiators still authorized his entry under strict supervision. The colosseum attracted many strange folk with odd heritages and bloodlines and often monsters capable of thought and language even joined for various reasons. This armored being that radiated a cold chill, was just one such creature...

Variel stepped into the dungeon lobby, nodding at the warrior in the dark corner of the room. He walked slowly, still sore from his fight with Rufus just hours ago. "So you're the champion, eh?" he asked, staring at the Cold Rider with steel gray eyes.

The Cold Rider bent its neck to look at Variel without the rest of its body even budging in a creepy display of its inhumanity. The horns that grew forth from its skull-like head loomed over Variel.

"Indeed."

The last man brave enough to battle the rider had been a gunslinger who was quick on the draw, but not as quick as the rider's bow. Despite its bulky appearance, it was quite agile and took pleasure in bleeding victims. All who had seen the rider fight knew him to be a sadistic creature with no soul.

Variel shuffled over to one of the low benches in the lobby and took a seat, keeping the Rider within his vision the whole time. He decided he did not trust the creature. Whatever it was, it meant no good for anyone.

Walks in a bloodied figure with cuts and stabs as deep as bone all over but a proud look of accomplishment on his face and a mug in hand of the strongest brew available from the tavern to help with healing the scars that like letters in a book can tell stories. Rufus has come after the nearest match he has had to watch how his guild mate Sobieski will do quick work with his opponent.

He takes a viewing place close to the Cold Rider How is it being the champion with noone challenging You. How do You keep Your edge as a champion without proper contest? Rufus asks this with great interest and admiration to the champion as he takes a huge gulp out of his mug.

This message was last edited by the player at 07:58, Sat 28 Apr 2012.

The rider looks at Rufus, seeming to enjoy the sight of his bruised and cut body as if the mere presence of pain gave it sadistic pleasure.

"My mission here is for the glory of my queen. My presence here frightens those who know who we are and that alone serves enough purpose. But I do enjoy a kill when it is foolish enough to come to me."

The creature smiled a fanged grin beneath its helm. Whatever it was, it radiated a chill and cruelty only seen in the most sadistic of souls and yet it seemed more obsessed with its service to this "queen" than even its own bloodlust.

OOC: Knowledge (nature) or (local) DC18 to know something of import about the Cold Rider.

You and I are alot alike when it comes to enjoyment, champion. The difference between us is that eventually You will fall behind me if Your purpose rests with serving a queen. Rufus points at Sobieski My purpose is to make warriors into gladiators because that is what I believe to be purpose - power. takes another gulp of from his mug Guess Don didnt slice deep enough, no leaking beer AAAHAHAHAA!

Variel cringed at Rufus's loud words. It didn't help that he had suffered his last defeat at the hands of the barbarian. "Quiet down will you!" he called from his seat. "Damn orc bloods are all the same. Roaring away like they're posturing for territory."

Posturing for territory? What have You to show but words elf? Honor? Conquest? Strength? You are absent any of this and speak as if equal! Come and show action by test of strength against Rufus once more or go bark with the dogs in the sewers!

Variel scowled even more at the half-orc's words. He didn't like to admit it, but Rufus was right. He had not yet proven himself in the arena. He sat, quiet and sullen, like a child that was just scolded.

The Cold Rider chuckles at the conflict. It cared not about the gladiator's petty squabbles, but merely enjoyed the suffering it created. It's laughter bellowed at Rufus' comment not even taking the barbarian seriously.

A strong roar of pride comes from Rufus as he sees Sobieskies minions tearing up yet another one of his opponents that didn't even get the chance to lay a hand on him Sobieski the untouchable! finishes his drink just in time to go find himself some game.