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Page name: G&C: Panthros [Logged in view] [RSS]
2013-06-12 11:04:41
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Panthros



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Username: [silent_voice]

Character Name: Panthros

Age: 25

Occupation: Gladiator

Appearance: By all appearances he is a natural warrior, his body is thickened with muscle with very little fat, he is large enough to be powerful, yet slim enough to keep his speed. As any warrior turned gladiator his skin has been harshly burnt by the sun for so long he has a deep golden tan making his scars that run across his back pale by comparison. His face is rough, he looks much older than his 25 years, but those years have been hard, tough, and very difficult to endure. Unlike many gladiators he has his hair long with a rough beard covering most of his face. The beard itself not his choice, but his previous masters.

Personality: This man was once a warrior, once warrior turned slave his mindset still cannot fathom how he changed from warrior, to gladiator, to have no will of his own, to have no choice. He rebels and refuses, is a testament to the ferocity of the human will and the ability to choose. He is not easy to get along with. Trust, does not exist.

History: Panthos was trained, as all Spartans, from birth. He excelled in swordplay and cunning. All were taught young. He rose through the ranks, being one of the youngest Spartans to face an army. One of the youngest on the field, and the only survivor. He refused to give up, lashing out at any who came near, blocking attacks that would stun and being hit from arrows. He refused to be caught. His honor as a spartan was on the line.

The scum used rock arrows to bring him down. He awoke tied, in a cage. No longer a warrior, no longer a man of honor, but a slave. Since then he has tried Everything to escape, killing other slaves, killing slavers... killing masters. The only way this man has survived is his skills on the field. On the battlefield he fights like a man possessed. Yet his off field antics give him a bad name, a bad reputation. He brings in much coin, but sometimes his costs outweigh. In the monetary systems of slaves, he is worth nothing.

He was given as a gift to a new master. While being in a single cell, he found his new master had died. Leaving him in the hands of a woman. His lip curled upon the news in rage. Now he was to be tossed aside, they would find a new buyer for him. But none arose. Now he is to be delivered, handed across with a threat of sale or death.


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