Humans Are Warriors: Chapter 1- Sic Semper Tyrannis

Hansel listened to the conversation with interest, "Vhat, do you make of that?" He asked his new companions.

"No thanks are needed. I wasn't going to let them throw anyone into blood sport against their will." Basho said, grabbing his water skin, "Thirsty?" Weather or not the boy took the water, Basho would continue, "This is strange news, and troubling." Basho knew what he wanted to do, but wasn't sure how exactly to handle the situation. He thought back to his old mentor, then looked to Reynard, "So the question is, what do we do now? Because I really don't want to talk down bullies all day."

"Every citizen of Rome is precious as are their allies. From its lowest beggar to Caesars Steward himself. Rest assured, in the days to come, allies of Rome shall not be forgotten."

Zaynah had overheard the words of the senator, and the irony of his statement made her smile. Once she had made her way to the roof, she would pull her red hood down and merge with the small crowd of diplomats. She was aware that it was quite possible her blue eyes and waist length white hair would stand out in a crowd. But around these politicians, it was actually better than walking around in a hood, and magnitudes less suspicious. At least she didn't exactly look Muslim, but neither did she look Roman, for certain.

"I am glad to hear that. My security adviser informed me on the way here that the Arena is quite impressive and well known for it's warriors. He also tells me that it is not uncommon to see guards rounding up......unsavory elements and even prisoners. This competition must truly be grand is so many warriors are needed."


It was then that one of the diplomats would almost knowingly scan the area. Did he spot her? She would be hardpressed to believe he hadn't, all things considered. Zaynah was not your average Muslim woman; while her accent and sunned complexion were still discernible to most traveled persons, her garments were not strictly traditional. She wore no turban and did not cover her face unlike her kin. Something of a craftswoman, she was fully capable of creating her own custom clothing. While on the job, she wore black leather, red hood, her armored gauntlet (appropriated from a blacksmith and personally customized to fit), a mask over her lower face and more knives than fingers. A too-long-yet-lighweight scimitar finished the look.

What she wore now was less obnoxious. While she still holding a number of knives on her person (none visible), along with the well-worn red hood, she had stashed her supplies in a safe place during the day. Baggy black cloth of surprising quality was her garb of choice this day. She accented with a crimson sash and black bands pinning her hair in an unorthodox style. She tried not to make too much eye contact, but if it happened, she'd merely smile, acknowledging, and make her way toward an unknown goal. That goal happened to bring her within ten yards of the senator and his Shaolin companion.

For the moment, it would seem the foreign woman resigned to helping herself to some Roman wine. She listened to the reply if the Shaolin one with mild interest, without looking at them.


"Are you not worried that Ninja and Hassassin's might see this as an opportunity to cause havoc?"

Zaynah knew instantly that this man might be trouble. Was he on to her already? Perhaps she was getting sloppy... Zaynah shook the thoughts from her head, though her stomach now churned and she chewed on her lip lightly. She drank the wine in her chalice and poured herself a bit more. She just needed to be confident in herself, and everything would fall in place. There was a lot of money riding on it, after all.

Tord gave another of his loud laughs as the Viking girl fell back from the chest bump. "Ye name Tord Trondson Benkestok. Proud son of Trond the shipwright. Followed me father I did. Became the finest shipwright in the land too. How bout ye, lass? What shall Tord ye?"

Tord continued to indulge from his barrel of ale, just barely overhearing the guard's conversation nearby. "No more Gladiators? In the Roman Capital? Well now that wouldn't be sport at all!"

Even as Tord grew more and more drunk, he was still pretty aware of his surroundings. Being a Viking required you to sober up at a moments notice in the off chance that you and your men were attack after leaving the mead hall.

It seems that many were talking about the gladiators and whether or not they were going to attend. The only silent thing in the tavern was a Roman girl, sitting alone and just finishing her meal. She joined in the festivities not long ago and drank to Tord's toast. That made her okay by him. "Aye lass! Come 'ere!" Tord pointed at her. "Man needs more than ale to fill his belly, ah! You Roman enough to tell a weary traveler what the best dish is here?"

"BOAR!", Tord shouted with enthusiasm "I am in need of a good boar! Give me the best cut you got, Cook!" Tord shouted so the cooks in the back could hear him then turned back to the girl whom suggested the meal. "Aye girl! Boar for you as well. You look thinner than the day ye spawned! Come and join us!"

"Amiss? Aye, amiss indeed! My boar hasn't arrived and my belly aches! COOK!!!"