>>5766488
>Born a slave, you've known nothing but chains and cruelty, seeking freedom and vengeance in the echoing cries of the Colosseum.

>>5766488
>An old warrior, you’ve seen countless battles, your scars telling tales of victories past, and now you seek one last triumph and to leave a legacy before destiny calls you away.

>>5766488
>Born a slave, you've known nothing but chains and cruelty, seeking freedom and vengeance in the echoing cries of the Colosseum.

>>5766488
>A fallen noble, betrayed by your own kin, you've traded your silk gown for a sword, hoping to reclaim lost honor.

>>5766488
> Born a slave, you've known nothing but chains and cruelty, seeking freedom and vengeance in the echoing cries of the Colosseum.

>>5766488
>> An outlander from a far-off land, your unique fighting style and thirst for adventure brought you to this deadly stage.

>>5766488

> Born a slave, you've known nothing but chains and cruelty, seeking freedom and vengeance in the echoing cries of the Colosseum.

>>5766488
> An outlander from a far-off land, your unique fighting style and thirst for adventure brought you to this deadly stage.

>>5766497
>>5766499
>>5766505
>>5766511
>>5766551
>>5766567
>>5766571
>>5766583

"A slave," you declare with a shadowed expression.

Born a slave, you've known nothing but chains and cruelty, seeking freedom and vengeance in the echoing cries of the Colosseum.

"My mother wore the same chains. As for my father?" You pause, the possibilities swirling. "Perhaps he stood triumphant here two decades past, winning the favor to lay with my mother. Or maybe some nobleman took a fleeting pleasure with her."

The grizzled veteran beside you senses the resolve in your voice. "In the end, it changes nothing. I was forged to be a weapon, raised amidst this world of blood and sand."

> Olive skin, lithe and gracefully built, your handsome features often deceive opponents into underestimating your lethal prowess.

> With ebony skin and a frame rippling with muscle, you cast an imposing shadow that few dare to challenge.

> Your fiery red hair contrasts starkly with your porcelain complexion, marking you as an enigma in this sun-drenched land.

> Short and stocky, your appearance might be deemed unattractive by most, but the raw power you wield is undeniable.

>>5766604
> With ebony skin and a frame rippling with muscle, you cast an imposing shadow that few dare to challenge.

>>5766604
> Your fiery red hair contrasts starkly with your porcelain complexion, marking you as an enigma in this sun-drenched land.

>>5766604

>Your fiery red hair contrasts starkly with your porcelain complexion, marking you as an enigma in this sun-drenched land.

Insane Celtic berserker quest is a go!

> Your fiery red hair contrasts starkly with your porcelain complexion, marking you as an enigma in this sun-drenched land.
I have a thing for redheads.

>>5766604
>Short and stocky, your appearance might be deemed unattractive by most, but the raw power you wield is undeniable.

>>5766604
>With ebony skin and a frame rippling with muscle, you cast an imposing shadow that few dare to challenge.

>>5766604
>With ebony skin and a frame rippling with muscle, you cast an imposing shadow that few dare to challenge.
Blacked

> Your fiery red hair contrasts starkly with your porcelain complexion, marking you as an enigma in this sun-drenched land.
I have a thing for redheads.

>>5766604
>With ebony skin and a frame rippling with muscle, you cast an imposing shadow that few dare to challenge.

>>5766604
>short and a stocky
Like my duck

>>5766604
>> Your fiery red hair contrasts starkly with your porcelain complexion, marking you as an enigma in this sun-drenched land.
Celt rage mode

>>5766615
>>5766647
An ID is tied to your replies. You only get one vote.

>>5766604
I'm fine with whichever one.

>>5766604
> Your fiery red hair contrasts starkly with your porcelain complexion, marking you as an enigma in this sun-drenched land.

>>5766605
>>5766607
>>5766608
>>5766615
>>5766619
>>5766632
>>5766634
>>5766647
>>5766672
>>5766675
>>5766678
>>5766680
>>5766689

Your fiery red hair contrasts starkly with your porcelain complexion, marking you as an enigma in this sun-drenched land.

"Celtic blood," the whispers say, speaking of a mother who hailed from lush green lands far away, abducted and dragged to this kingdom of brutality. She never again set eyes on her homeland before her death.

And you? "A heart that beats with Highland rhythms, though I've never walked its lands," you muse.

The promise of freedom dangles before you, your master's words echoing: "Win the tournament, give me the gold, and you're free."

Winning means not only survival but a journey to find the home your mother lost. But first the gauntlet awaits.

> Gladius: A short, double-edged sword favored by legionnaires.

> Spear: A long weapon designed for thrusting, accompanied by a shield.

> Battleaxe: A large axe designed for combat, with two blade heads.

>Warhammer: A hammer with a long handle, with a spike on the other side of the head.

>>5766731

>Warhammer: A hammer with a long handle, with a spike on the other side of the head.

We only need to hit once!

>>5766731
>Warhammer: A hammer with a long handle, with a spike on the other side of the head.
spear better not win for once

>>5766731
>Write in
>Glaive: A polearm with the head of a curved blade, allowing for thrusts and slashes at greater reaches.

>>5766735
>>5766739
>>5766789

Gripping your battleaxe, its dual blades gleaming menacingly, you charge into the gauntlet.

The weight of vengeance and the taste of freedom fuel each swing.

With every foe that stands in your way, the whirlwind inside you intensifies, turning you into a relentless force.

Your enemies see not just a warrior but a Celtic berserker in their midst.

Steel meets steel, the air thick with the tension of combat.

Bodies fall, one by one, beneath your unstoppable onslaught.

"Is this all you have for me?!" you roar, challenging the world itself.

But then, emerging from the haze of battle, there he stands – the final adversary.

Your eyes lock, knowing that the true test has just begun.

> A fallen noble, betrayed by his own kin, he has traded his silk gown for a sword, hoping to reclaim lost honor.

> An outlander from a far-off land, his unique fighting style and thirst for adventure brought him to this deadly stage.

> An old warrior, he had seen countless battles, his scars telling tales of victories past, and now he seeks one last triumph and to leave a legacy before destiny calls him away.

> Another slave: Olive skin, lithe and gracefully built, his handsome features often deceive opponents into underestimating his lethal prowess.

> Another slave: With ebony skin and a frame rippling with muscle, he casts an imposing shadow that few dare to challenge.

> Another slave: Short and stocky, his appearance might be deemed unattractive by most, but the raw power he wields is undeniable.

>>5766880
> An old warrior, he had seen countless battles, his scars telling tales of victories past, and now he seeks one last triumph and to leave a legacy before destiny calls him away.

>>5766880

>An old warrior, he had seen countless battles, his scars telling tales of victories past, and now he seeks one last triumph and to leave a legacy before destiny calls him away.

This seems most interesting

>>5766880
>An outlander from a far-off land, his unique fighting style and thirst for adventure brought him to this deadly stage.
My money is on him hailing from the Orient.

>>5766931
>>5766934
>>5766945

Facing you is an old warrior, he has seen countless battles, his scars telling tales of victories past. He is the last barrier to your freedom.

"Why do you stand in my way, old man?" you challenge, your voice echoing in the tense air.

With a grip firm on his glaive—a deadly polearm with the head of a curved blade, allowing for thrusts and slashes at greater reaches—he replies, "I seek one last triumph, the chance to spill my seed inside a youthful and fertile womb, father a son, and leave a legacy before destiny calls me away."

Meeting his gaze with steely determination, you retort, "Destiny has already called, old man, Today, the sands claim you."

> Roll 1d100

> DC: 60

> Best of three

Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>5767094
Let's hope the spectators think this fight is entertaining enough to keep both of us alive.

Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>5767094

What is this, incel gladiator? Lol

Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>5767094

>>5767182
>>5767184
>>5767214

The old warrior moves with a cunning that only years in the arena can grant, each feint and thrust telling of countless duels. But youth is on your side. Your vigor, your raw speed — they're unmatched. Amidst the roiling sands and under the relentless sun, you clash, a dance of desperation and determination. The roar of the blood-hungry crowd becomes the anthem of this deadly ballet.

With every pass, every block, it's clear: while he has the wiles, he cannot outlast your relentless stamina. As you corner him, ready to deliver the coup de grâce, a burning question halts your hand. "Did you claim victory in this very arena, two decades ago?"

His voice, ragged and tired, responds, "I did not."

A mix of relief and resolve washes over you. "Then this will be simpler," you say, before sealing his fate with one final, decisive blow.

Blood drips from your hand, staining the sun-bleached sands below. The crowd's roar of approval rises like a tide, their lust for blood seemingly unquenchable. Emerging from the throng, a rotund, balding master steps forward, his voice gratingly shrill, "Magnificent show!"

Your gaze hardens, driven by purpose. "My gold. Now."

He chuckles, his every mannerism oozing decadence. "All in good time. But first, you have a duty. To sire the next warrior of Aegean legacy."

> A dark-skinned Numidian warrior woman, tall and athletic: The child will inherit a natural strength, gaining bonuses to physical attributes and endurance in combat.

> A pale peasant girl from Germania with golden hair and blue eyes: Born with an innate resilience to extreme temperatures, the child will have increased resistance to environmental hazards.

> A clever slave girl from Aegyptus: The child will possess exceptional cognitive abilities, granting bonuses to problem-solving and strategy.

> An olive-skinned girl from Iberia: The child, inheriting a balance of grace and beauty, will have increased charisma, aiding in diplomatic situations.

> A dancer from Phoenicia, with raven-black hair and amber eyes: The child will have a natural talent for the arts and mesmerizing performances, potentially distracting foes.

> A nimble and dexterous girl from Persia: The child will be adept at stealth, infiltration, and precision attacks, making them an excellent scout or assassin.

>>5767923

> A clever slave girl from Aegyptus: The child will possess exceptional cognitive abilities, granting bonuses to problem-solving and strategy.

Oh, this quest must be inspired by the 40K bloodlines quest?

>>5767923
> A dark-skinned Numidian warrior woman, tall and athletic: The child will inherit a natural strength, gaining bonuses to physical attributes and endurance in combat.

>>5767923
>A clever slave girl from Aegyptus: The child will possess exceptional cognitive abilities, granting bonuses to problem-solving and strategy.
Something tells me we're going to need an intelligent mind for something beyond the arena.

> A pale peasant girl from Germania with golden hair and blue eyes: Born with an innate resilience to extreme temperatures, the child will have increased resistance to environmental hazards.

>>5767923
> A clever slave girl from Aegyptus: The child will possess exceptional cognitive abilities, granting bonuses to problem-solving and strategy.

... because I sorta wish the kid to have a different future than that of a gladiator.

Regardless the choice, the Germania option would be the wrong one for this generation: unless that kid would grow up to serve some remote outpost of our not!Roman Empire, extreme environments aren't exactly a common feature.

>>5767923
> A clever slave girl from Aegyptus: The child will possess exceptional cognitive abilities, granting bonuses to problem-solving and strategy.

>>5768020
>>5768035
>>5768038
>>5768056
>>5768130
>>5768197

Arrayed before you, six slave girls stand, fated to bear the next generation of the kingdom's warriors. Each slave holds a beauty and exoticism from her homeland, that would be passed down to her child.

The Numidian warrior woman towers over the rest with an athlete's form, her dark skin a testament to her lineage. Beside her, the Germanian maiden, hair as golden as fields of wheat and eyes as clear as the northern skies, holds her head high, unyielding in her pride. Next, the Iberian girl's olive complexion and lithe figure paints an alluring picture, while the Phoenician dancer, with her raven tresses and glowing amber eyes, seems like she could weave tales from a single movement. The Persian slave girl, agile and poised, exudes a silent strength and exotic secrets.

Yet, your attention remains unwaveringly fixed on the Aegyptian slave girl. Sun-kissed bronze skin, almond-shaped eyes framed by the delicate traces of kohl, raven locks, and the profound intelligence evident in her gaze.

Drawn to her like a moth to flame, you take a step forward, "What is your name?" you inquire, voice betraying a hint of genuine curiosity.

She pauses, her deep onyx eyes meeting yours, "Nefertari," she responds, her voice echoing the secrets and wisdom of her ancient land, "What do they call you?"

> Caius

> Lorcan

> Caledonian

> Redhair

> Redhair

>>5769064

>Caledonian

>>5769064
> Redhair
If you translate it to not!latin, it'd be a good name for a slave here. Or a dog. But that's good for the narrative.

>>5769064
Redhair

File: anck-su-namun-7686678-normal.jpg (53 KB, 355x500)

53 KB JPG

>>5769118
>>5769129
>>5769172
>>5769326

"They call me Redhair," you tell the Aegyptian slave girl. It's not a name of lineage or history, but one birthed in the dusty pits and arenas where slaves are but playthings for the decadent nobility.

"Nefertari, our clever gem of Aegyptus," the bloated noble chortles, rubbing his pudgy hands in glee, his voice dripping with lascivious intent. "And Redhair, our fiercest brute. Imagine their offspring!" His laughter is accompanied by the equally grotesque mirth of his comrades.

You feel their eyes bore into you, appraising, judging, evaluating. It's a sensation you've grown used to, though it never ceases to disgust. Nefertari's body language tells you she's familiar with it too. In this kingdom, you've both been reduced to mere commodities, property to be traded and used at the whims of the masters.

The masters command you to undress, a command you were well familiar with as a slave, as was Nefertari. The hands of attendants reach out, applying glistening oil to your bodies. Not as an act of reverence or care but as another spectacle for the ravenous crowd. The same crowd that had bayed for blood now shouted with a different kind of hunger.

> You both move mechanically, with silent resignation, approaching the act with a detached efficiency, focused solely on the end goal.

> In this vulnerable moment, you connect with Nefertari on a deeper level, offering silent comfort and understanding amidst the external chaos. As your eyes lock, a tender warmth grows, transcending the crude circumstances and igniting a spark of genuine affection between you.

> Every sensation is heightened, the world blurring around you as raw passion takes over, an unexpected hunger. This is your first time with a woman. You intend to enjoy every moment of it.

> Each touch and motion carries the weight of resentment, a reminder of the chains that still bind you. As the act progresses, rage surges within you, a burning loathing for the world that put you in this position, and you curse your unborn child.

>>5770219
> In this vulnerable moment, you connect with Nefertari on a deeper level, offering silent comfort and understanding amidst the external chaos. As your eyes lock, a tender warmth grows, transcending the crude circumstances and igniting a spark of genuine affection between you.

Call me a moralfag you want, but I'd rather our next generation to be someone compassionate than a serial killer.

Plus, if the choices are of any meaning, we can really only choose between 1 and 2 given we're on the smart kid route, as 3 and 4 are pretty much reserved for berserkers. And if we want to stay IC then it's either 2 or 3.

>>5770269
+1

>>5770269
>>5770281

In this vulnerable moment, you connect with Nefertari on a deeper level, offering silent comfort and understanding amidst the external chaos. As your eyes lock, a tender warmth grows, transcending the crude circumstances and igniting a spark of genuine affection between you. The masters wanted to breed you like animals, but you defied them by making love instead.

Breathing heavily, you rise and demand, "My gold." The master, his eyes glinting with mischief, retorts, "In due time. Once her womb swells with your child."

You're returned to Lord Straton, a middle aged Aegean noble of handsome features marred by his icy, calculating eyes. The repeated sessions with Nefertari, veiled under the pretext of producing a robust heir, quickly become an unexpected refuge for you both. The anticipation for freedom builds each day, and one fateful morning, a chest laden with gold is delivered to your quarters.

Wasting no time, you confront Lord Straton, thrusting the gold toward him. "I've upheld my end. Now grant me my freedom."

He responds with a sly grin, "Of course, but first, come with me." As you follow him, an uneasy feeling knots in your stomach. His garden, usually a place of beauty, now feels like a trap. The sight that meets you steals your breath – Nefertari, belly pregnant and eyes downcast.

"How did you...?" The words catch in your throat.

With a predatory smile, Lord Straton responds, "A few deals, a few whispers in the right ears." Pausing to savor your shock, he continues, "With you gone, I'd need a new fighter, why not your child? Nefertari will warm my bed, and her next few children will be mine."

The fury building inside you threatens to explode, but Straton, ever the strategist, offers a twisted proposition. "There's another tournament, Redhair. Bigger stakes, more gold. Win it, and give me the prize. In return, Nefertari and your child will be free, free to leave with you to Caledonia."

> Accept, you'll free them or die trying.

> Leave, you've had enough of Straton's games.

>>5770325
> Accept, you'll free them or die trying.

>>5770325
> Leave, you've had enough of Straton's games.

Can we just offer to buy her with our current gold? That kid's not gonna be nearly as much a fighter as he hoped either way.

... so THAT's how the Third Servile War started...

>>5770325
>accept

>>5770325
> Accept, you'll free them or die trying.
That fucker.

>>5770325

>Accept, you'll free them or die trying.

Of course he’ll betray us

>>5770336
>>5770351
>>5770353
>>5770355
>>5770368

With a clenched jaw, you accept his challenge, "I'll fight, and I'll win them both back." The determination in your eyes remains unyielding, a promise to not only face but conquer the treacherous games ahead, to free them or die trying. Lord Straton's lips curl into a self-satisfied smirk, clearly anticipating your reaction. Among all the slavers of Aegis, his reputation for cruelty reigns supreme, and you can't help but dread the twisted game he's set in motion.

"Enjoy your time in the arena, Redhair," he taunts with a glint of malevolence. "In the meantime, Nefertari will grace my chambers. She'll be well taken care of, after all, she is carrying your child." He pauses, letting his words sink in before adding with chilling nonchalance, "Though, another child wouldn't harm, would it? One born of noble seed."

His words are a calculated dagger, meant to unnerve and unhinge you before facing the impending combat. But you won't let him have that satisfaction. Steeling yourself against his mind games, you set your focus on the upcoming tournament. Every fight, every challenge, is a step closer to Nefertari and your unborn child's freedom.

The stakes have never been higher. The scorching sands await, and you're more than ready to face your opponent.

> Numidian Lion , a massive beast from the wild plains of Numidia, its golden mane and fierce roar command respect.

> Persian Tiger, sleek and powerful, this striped beast from the dense forests of Persia is both cunning and swift.

> Brown Bear, hailing from the cold woods of Germania, this colossal creature is both ferocious and resilient.

> Iberian Bull, with a black hide and horns sharp as daggers, this raging behemoth from the plains of Iberia charges with unmatched force.

> Thracian Dire Wolf, larger and more savage than its common counterparts, this wolf from the snowy peaks of Thracia hunts in a deadly pack.

>>5770587
> Numidian Lion , a massive beast from the wild plains of Numidia, its golden mane and fierce roar command respect.

>>5770587
> Numidian Lion , a massive beast from the wild plains of Numidia, its golden mane and fierce roar command respect.

>>5770602
>>5770646

In the grand coliseum of Aegis, man doesn't just battle man, but also the kingdom's fiercest beasts. The upper crust of society, decadent and debauched, jeer from their high perches, while the ground swells with the roars of the blood-hungry masses.

They revel in the macabre spectacles like the doomed slaves thrust naked into the jaws of hungry Persian tigers. Or the young lads, coated in sweet honey, left to the mercy of ravenous bears; wagers being placed on their grim fates. There are even depraved sexual spectacles involving slave girls and Iberian bulls, a vain effort by the masters to replicate the mythic Cretan Minotaur.

Your heart thunders as you're herded with a group of other slaves to face the arena's next terror: The Numidian Lion, a massive beast from the wild plains of Numidia, its golden mane and fierce roar command respect, a powerful testament to the countless gladiators it has vanquished.

Grasping your Warhammer tightly, you feel the weight of its long handle and the sharpness of the opposing spike. It's you or the beast now. Determination surges within you, fueled by your unborn child.

> Roll 1d100

> DC: 75

> Best of three

Rolled 33 (1d100)

>>5770764

Rolled 70 (1d100)

>>5770764

Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>5770764

don't worry, gladiatorfriends - WATCH THIS

>>5770813

...

fuck

>>5770769
>>5770781
>>5770813

The arena's sands sear underfoot as you bolt towards the lion, Warhammer gripped firmly, heart pounding wildly. But the lion, with the sharp instincts of an apex predator, reads your intent. In a blur, it leaps, taking you down in a flurry of claws and raw power.

The pain is immediate as its claws rip through your flesh, crimson staining the golden sands. As its massive jaws close in, life's memories surge forth in a torrent. But, just as the end seems imminent, a shadow lunges into the fray.

A fellow warrior, blade gleaming, forces the lion back, stealing its attention from you. They tangle in a deadly dance; man matching every move of the beast, blade flashing, and the lion roaring in rage.

The cacophony of the crowd rises in a crescendo of excitement. They are hungry for blood, be it the man's last stand or the beast's fall. Wounded and bloodied, you watch the other warrior.

> A fallen noble, betrayed by his own kin, he has traded his silk gown for a sword, hoping to reclaim lost honor.

> An outlander from a far-off land, his unique fighting style and thirst for adventure brought him to this deadly stage.

> Another slave: Olive skin, lithe and gracefully built, his handsome features often deceive opponents into underestimating his lethal prowess.

> Another slave: With ebony skin and a frame rippling with muscle, he casts an imposing shadow that few dare to challenge.

> Another slave: Short and stocky, his appearance might be deemed unattractive by most, but the raw power he wields is undeniable.

>>5770819
> Another slave: Olive skin, lithe and gracefully built, his handsome features often deceive opponents into underestimating his lethal prowess.

>>5770819
> A fallen noble, betrayed by his own kin, he has traded his silk gown for a sword, hoping to reclaim lost honor.
Feel like they could have an interesting dynamic with our redman.

>>5770819
> A fallen noble, betrayed by his own kin, he has traded his silk gown for a sword, hoping to reclaim lost honor.

>>5770819

> A fallen noble, betrayed by his own kin, he has traded his silk gown for a sword, hoping to reclaim lost honor.

Would make for good action movie hijinks

>>5770821
>>5770828
>>5770838
>>5770841

The dust settles for a brief moment, revealing the face of your unexpected ally: Maximus. A fallen noble, betrayed by his own kin, he has traded his opulent silks for a sword, hoping to reclaim lost honor. The remnants of a tragic past lie in those determined eyes.

A fleeting glance passes between you two; words unnecessary. In his eyes, you see a mirror of your own desperation: one man bound by shackles longing for his family's freedom, the other fueled by the bitter flames of betrayal, seeking redemption. Both of you, the final stand against the deadly beast in the pit.

With renewed vigor, you rise, muscles tensing, weapon clutched tightly. Together, side by side, you'll face down this Numidian Lion and carve a path towards the freedom and honor you both so deeply crave. The roars of the crowd and the lion become the backdrop to this decisive duel.

> Roll 1d100

> DC: 60

> Best of three

Rolled 85 (1d100)

>>5770851

Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>5770851

Hopefully we don’t get disemboweled

Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>5770851

>>5770858
>Hopefully we don’t get disemboweled
>>5770862
oop there it is

are there critfails in this quest?

>>5770856
>>5770858
>>5770862

Blood paints the sands of the arena as you and the fallen noble, Maximus, stand back-to-back, facing the golden terror that is the Numidian Lion. As its massive form lunges at you, claws rake across your side, etching a deep, burning scar into your flesh. The pain is intense, yet the threat of death keeps you moving. Maximus, ever the valiant fighter, leaps to attack, but the lion's ferocity overwhelms him. With one fateful strike, the lion seals his fate, disemboweling him, and the sands drink the blood of a once-noble warrior. His aspirations for redemption die with him, silenced by the heartless roars of the bloodthirsty crowd.

You, fueled by a mix of grief and anger, find an untapped reservoir of strength. With a mighty swing, you bury your Warhammer into the beast, ending its reign of terror. The crowd's cheers become a distant echo as darkness encroaches, and the weight of your wounds drag you into unconsciousness.

A soft rustling awakens you in the dimly lit slave quarters. Lord Straton, your master, stands over you, an insidious smirk playing on his lips. "Well done, Redhair," he drawls, the cruelty in his eyes evident. He leans closer, and in a mocking whisper, reveals his nights with Nefertari, "You would be pleased to know Nefertari kept me thoroughly entertained during the nights." Each word is a poisoned dagger, twisting deeper into your heart. It takes every ounce of your willpower not to lash out.

Seeing your restraint, he chuckles, "You've earned your freedom, as promised." But then he leans in, the scent of his perfumed robe cloying. "However, consider this: You may be free, but penniless. Another tournament looms. Win, and not only will you be free, but you'll also have the means to offer your child a life of privilege."

> Tired of the cruel games, you resolve to journey to Caledonia alongside Nefertari and the child she carries, penniless or not.

> The thought of entering another battle to ensure a prosperous life for your child weighs on your mind.

>>5770931
> Tired of the cruel games, you resolve to journey to Caledonia alongside Nefertari and the child she carries, penniless or not.

>>5770931

> Tired of the cruel games, you resolve to journey to Caledonia alongside Nefertari and the child she carries, penniless or not.

Oh, fuck off, you bastard

>>5770931
> Tired of the cruel games, you resolve to journey to Caledonia alongside Nefertari and the child she carries, penniless or not.

We can always try to find another job as a freed man.

>>5770939
>>5770943
>>5771007

"No, I have had enough of your cruel games, I won't play into your hands any longer," you declare, your gaze unwavering as you decide to set out for Caledonia with Nefertari and your yet-to-be-born child.

Even without riches, your strength would find its place – whether on the battlefield or tilling the land. And Nefertari, with her sharp intellect, would thrive in roles that demanded a keen mind. Luxury might elude your child, but a life of comfort wouldn’t.

"Redhair, you could've become a legend in this arena," Lord Straton opines as you place the gold before him, seeking the release of your loved ones. "I've tasted enough of glory," you retort, then question, "why do my victories matter to you?"

His cold eyes lock onto yours, the very image of malicious nobility. "For every triumph you've achieved, I've reaped the benefits, because everything you have and ever will belongs to me."

"You no longer own me," you spit out, loathing the man who once held your chains and molded you into a tool of war.

His smirk is infuriatingly smug. "You'll forever be entwined with me, boy. Twenty years ago, I briefly indulged myself with a pretty red-haired slave girl from Caledonia. You've surely pondered who your father is. Now, you know."

> Spit at his feet.

> You may be my blood, but you are not my father.

> How can someone raise their son the way you raised me? With chains and whips?

> We're leaving, and you will never see us again.

>>5771471
>> We're leaving, and you will never see us again.

>>5771471

>We're leaving, and you will never see us again.

Get fucked, old man. The best revenge is living well

>>5771471
My duty is to my child and to their mother, not to myself or to you.
> We're leaving, and you will never see us again.

>>5771475
>>5771544

"We're leaving, and you will never see us again," you hiss, your voice laced with the venom of years of resentment and anguish. Drawing Nefertari close, you turn away from the wretched nobleman who claims to be your sire, making it clear that some bonds, though forged in blood, can be decisively broken.

With the sails of a ship billowing in the wind, you put distance between yourselves and the decadent kingdom of Aegis. Your arrival in Caledonia is humbling: no riches, and Nefertari's pregnancy drawing to its climax. But you've survived worse. Your brute strength, combined with Nefertari's wit, lays the foundation for a new life.

The sun witnesses your hard work on vast fields and, when needed, you wield your blade for extra coin, while Nefertari brilliantly steers your earnings. Soon, a modest abode stands tall, flanked by healthy crops and livestock. Still, Caledonia isn't without its challenges. The tongue of your mother feels strange on your lips. "This chill is unrelenting," Nefertari murmurs. But as the two of you cuddle closer for warmth, the consensus is clear: This rugged land, with all its trials, is far superior to the horrors you both endured in Aegis.

Your memories of the arena persist — the Numidian Lion's savage memento remains permanent on your flesh. Nefertari, too, bears the emotional scars of the unwanted touches of men and degradation she frequently suffered as a female slave in Aegis. But together, you focus forward, allowing the shadows of the past to fade.

And then, the day arrives. Your son. He's a blend of both worlds, fiery red locks like his father, sun-kissed bronze skin of his mother. As he gurgles, eyes bright and full of cunning, you contemplate a name worthy of his unique heritage.

> Caius

> Lorcan

> Horus

> Cullen

>>5771624

>Caius

Obviously we will train him relentlessly so that no man of our line will fall into slavery again

>>5771624
> Caius

I am watching with interest.

Names don't typically have much bearing on plot, but I will vote in future updates

>>5771624
>Lorcan
The only ‘Caledonian’ names are Cullen and Lorcan. Caius seems like a name of our !notRoman enslavers, so it seems weird to name our kid that. Horus is fine and is !notEgpytian but I prefer Lorcan for that Caledonian vibe.

>>5771707

Hmm you raise good points here - I’ll switch to Lorcan as well.

Here’s my prior vote

>>5771629

>>5771624
>Lorcan
This anon >>5771707 brings up a good point, and let's not tempt fate by naming our kid Horus.

>>5771624
> Lorcan

>>5771624
> Lorcan

We're in Celedonia/Scotland, so non-Celtic names like Horus and Gaius can be automatically excluded if we want the kid to fit in with the locals - with Gaius being the worse among the two given it's a name borne by our (and Nef's) tormentors. Among the two Celtic names, Lorcan means "little fierce one", while Cullen means "Behind the River", so Lorcan wins given our origins.

>>5771629
>>5771630
>>5771690
>>5771707
>>5771719
>>5771730
>>5772068

"Lorcan," you breathe out, the name rolling off your tongue like a cherished memory. The Caledonian name means 'fierce little one', and as you gaze into the fiery depths of your son's eyes, you know you've chosen right.

With every passing day, Lorcan embodies that fiery spirit, growing up with a sharp mind, always scheming, always questioning. Time is kind, and soon, you and Nefertari, your beloved wife, find joy in the soft laughter of more children echoing through your home.

Tending to your crops, the warm sun beating down on your back, the horrors of Aegis feel like a lifetime ago. The scars on your body tell a story, but it's one you no longer focus on, lost in the midst of life's bustling rhythm.

One evening, as the sun paints the horizon in hues of amber and gold, Lorcan, on the brink of manhood, approaches you with that familiar spark in his eye. "Father," he begins, his voice tinged with a mix of excitement and trepidation, "I yearn for my own adventures, my own tales to tell."

You study him for a moment, memories of your own youth flooding back. "Your journey, son, will be yours alone to dictate," you muse, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

The two of you stand in silent understanding. The world beyond awaits Lorcan, teeming with its own challenges and victories. His saga is just beginning, a blank canvas awaiting his bold strokes. And you? You can only watch with pride, knowing you've given him the foundation to write an epic all his own.

> to be continued in Blood and Seed - Second Generation

>>5772491

Nice, when we can expect thread 2, QM?

So... anybody archive this thread?

Archived, not sure about the archive quality though.
link: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Blood%20and%20Seed