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Commodus and the Celt

The German pushed the Hispanic out of the way and began to swing his gladius wildly at your head forcing you to back away. You flew under his arms and ran past the Hispanic pushing him with all your might to the ground. The thundering sound of the German attempting to chase after you filled your ears as you drowned out the sound of the crowd. His breathing was becoming laboured, his bulky frame causing him problems.

As he drew closer you ran up to the wall surrounding the stage, leaping up onto it using it to help you springboard over him as you came down digging your sword into his neck severing the artery. He fell to the floor with you on top of him, you pulled out a dagger from your belt and thrust it into his heart; all of your limbs were now covered in blood as the warm crimson liquid squirted from his neck. The crowd screamed in delight as the blood seeped into the sand covered floor.

You moved slowly back over to the Gaul, still keeping your eyes on the Hispanic; crouching down behind the stricken man you put your sword to his throat and with one smooth motion you dispatched him. You picked up the Gaul's sword and twirled the two blades in your hands.

"Just you and me now Hispanic, and I can assure you that I don't intend to lose to you." You growled at the man before you. He pulled off his helmet, his steely grey eyes staring into yours, as you circled one another never moving your eyes from his.

"I've heard of you Celt; they say that it cost the emperor a lot of money to bring you here. All that money just to watch you die!"

The Hispanic thrust his gladius at your head, the blade gliding across the cheek of your helmet. As his energy carried him forward you sidestep and cracked the back of his skull with the flat of your sword with force. The stupid man should never have taken off his helmet you thought to yourself. And seeing as the emperor had paid so much for you to be here you might as well put on a show. The Hispanic glared at you as a smug grin formed on your face.

"You'll have to do better than that Hispanic."

"BARBARIAN!" He screamed out.

Good! An angry man is easier to beat, less rational, more likely to forget their training, more likely to make mistakes you thought to yourself, and sure enough you were right.

He came out swinging wildly, his sword flying from side to side. You threw yourself backwards flipping over and over from your feet to your hands, from your hands to your feet. As the audience cheered enthusiastically at your athleticism; the Hispanic stood frozen to the spot momentarily taken aback by your movements. You found yourself by the African's sword which you picked up and hurled at your opponent like a spear. He ducked, dodging the blade, but his stance was now open wide and there was enough room for you to slide through. You ran at full speed towards your opponent, dropping down you slid between his legs slicing through his femoral artery. He dropped to his knees as a gasp went up from the crowd, as you looked up to emperor for approval for your final kill. With a nod of his head you retrieved your second sword and faced your opponent.

"Thank you for my freedom Hispanic." With that you plunged both swords into his chest and his body fell limp.

You stood in the middle of the arena desperately trying to control your breathing, your eyes stung as blood and sweat pooled in them. The chant began to rise from the crowd, now louder than ever. "CELT! CELT! CELT! CELT!" Suddenly you found yourself surrounded by the praetorian guard, their commander stepping forward.

"The emperor wishes to meet you gladiator." You nodded. "I am at the emperors service."

With that a cheer went up as the emperor entered the arena. The guard's parted, and the emperor strode up to you.