And here the buzz of eager nations ran,
In murmur'd pity, or loud-roar'd applause,
As man was slaughter'd by his fellow man.
And wherefore slaughter'd? wherefore, but because
Such are the bloody Circus' genial laws
And the imperial pleasure.--Wherefore not?
What matters where we fall to fill the maws
Of worms--on battle-plains or listed spot?
Both are but theatres--where the chief actors rot.
I see before me the Gladiator lie:
He leans upon his hand--his manly brow
Consents to death, but conquers aging
And his droop'd head sinks gradually low--
And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow
From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one,
Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now
The arena swims around him--he is gone,
Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hail'd the wretch who won.
He heard it, but he heeded not--his eyes
Were with his heart, and that was far away;
He reck'd not of the life he lost nor prize,
But where his rude hut by the Danube lay,
Stol'n by the blade and broken by the flay,
Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday--
All this rush'd with his blood--Shall he die
And unavenged? Arise, ye Goths, and sieze your revenge!
'While stands the Coliseum, Rome shall stand;
'When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall;
'And when Rome falls--the World.' From our own land
Thus spake the pilgrims o'er this mighty wall.
In Saxon times, which we are wont to call
Ancient, and these three mortal things are still
On their foundations, and unalter'd all
Rome and her ruin past Redemption's skill,
The World, the same wide den--of thieves, or what ye will.
Regilus Gaius Voxus stands as the most powerful gladiator of his day. Crowds scream when he swings steel, roar when he draws blood. Undefeated, he has lived longer than any gladiator is expected to survive. But this is no mere stroke of luck. His blood carries noble Nordic blood, descended from the gods of Northern mythology. Forsaken, cursed, and a fallen half god despised by his own father, he was abandoned, alone, shacked to fulfill a life without destiny. Regilus spent his days fighting for a life he found becoming less valuable by every moon that passed.He lived only to see another day.
A Roman of noble birth saw strength and compassion
where others saw death
. She braved gladiator pits and dungeon cells to visit him nearly every night. A daughter of the bluest bloods, queen of Rome, wife of the Emperor Cassius, loved Regilus, gladiator or not. And most likely, the consequence of the discovery of their relationship would have him killed and her disgraced.But she was not the only one who watched him.
His father Njord, saw potential. Power. Ambition. Reasoning.
Danger that threatened his throne. He wanted no man but him on the throne of the gods, for his own ambition was rivaled by none. Zeus saw a child. Neglected, lost, furious.
But a soul that wanted nothing more than redemption.
To prove he was worthy of a role in this world.He would get his chance soon.
The Greek gods paid no homage to the Nordics, and rightfully so. Zeus led the greatest Pantheon of gods the heavens had ever seen. Yet, Njord and his brother Loki grew jealous of the power the God of Thunder possessed. They tricked him, fooling him into losing his great power over the heavens, and spread the dark stain of chaos across the realm of the gods. The world fled into panic, two sides pitched into a mortal battle no one could ever win.
Regilus wielded the power of neutrality. Neither good
took his heart. Only a chaotic sense of what was right or wrong made him immune to the destruction that corrupted the souls of so many. And, perhaps, only he can pass through the fires of the Underworld unscarred to return the former peace the world demands.
I wrote this thing almost three years ago. It's been almost a year since I've wanted to write anything either, and it seems to come and go. Not really sure anymore, but I'm looking for one specific female character to take the role of the queen of Rome here. This is not a first come first serve deal. PM me your interest, and we'll see if it rouses anything.