Welcome to Fabulae, a group of Interactive Stories set in Ancient Rome and Greece! This particular story is called "Pugna Gladiatorum," or "Fight of the Gladiators." It is meant to be a Gladiator fight scene, so please write your posts accordingly! After 50 entries, the story will automatically reset. HTML coding is allowed; add your own nifty text styles and images to spice up the story! But be good, I have the power to remove your entry! Have fun!
opponent, another Thracian, warily. Why, thought Spartacus, must these oppressive Romans enjoy such bloody entertainment? But Spartacus could not think for long; he saw his opponent running quickly towards him, sword bared. |
I live in Ljutomer and I want to go home! Mum! Mum! MUM!" |
The croud cheered. The fight had begun. |
started crying and bent over. John tried his best karate move and kicked him in the face. |
his rescue. When he dug the mud out of his eyes, he saw a shadow slowing creeping towards him. |
_ Those fighters are the worst I've seen in life! Let the lions feed on them! The people in the Coliseum shouted, and screamed for pleasure. |
John quickly decided to try (in vain, he knew ) to defend himself rather then just let the lions kill him. |
"You don't think we let any of you go, do you? Lock him up until the next time we need a lion killer!" John had but a taste of freedom before he was locked again in the cells, the door slamming behind him like a death knell. He knew he would never have another chance at freedom again. |
himself? Does being yourself prevent you from the pleasure of seeing yourself as another perfect being? Why is it that being me isn't being I. Why do the starts twinkle. Kill Whitey. |
he was being foolish all of those years to think that this was a life he was happy with (the thought of "kill whitey" was one caused be eating some bad meat). Yes, he loved his wife, and his children, but he had a plan for escape and this opportunity was not one that he was going to pass up. He knew that if he escaped, his wife would be told that he was dead. He thought of the pain he would cause her, and shed a tear, for tomorrow he was going to adventure to a place far from anywhere he had ever known. |
He would slip in behind the lion. he ould go out the door the lion got in and kill anyone who opposed him. john would go get his family and go to the New world, if he made it, if it works. |
freedom had arrived. He submitted to the cruel treatment of the guards just long enough to get his sword and armor. The lions were hungry when they leapt from their cages, running full out at John. To the crowd's great pleasure, he dispatched one after the other with ease that belied his fear. The cage doors were both open, and the guards were too drunk on wine to notice his departure. His chance was now! Carpe Diem! |
towards the opening. Just as fate would have it, the drunken guard wakes himself in time to nab John with the tip of his ragged, rusty steel spear. John lashes out with his sword and quickly lops off the burly arm of the guard. "Ha," John claims."fate cannot stop me!" |
punish the romans for being cruel to the slaves. |
Suddenly, he felt a dagger in his back. He cried out in pain and whirled around. |
that is hard to understand. What is the meaning of all that has transpired in his life? He now knows that he is really meant to be a philosopher! |
Spartacus was shocked. The old lady pretended like she knew Spartacus. Spartacus didn't pay any attention though. He just kicked dirt in front of her and walked on. But the old lady turned to him and said, "You will have a major fight in the Colosseum, and you will die." Spartacus looked at the old lady and walked further down the road, pondering on what this old lady had said |
along for hours now. He had dust in his eyes, there was no drinkable water anywhere in sight, and it looked as if he was going to have to sleep in a ditch. There were no signs of human habitation, aside from the group of bandits he had had to fend off single-handedly. He took the money from their bloody corpses as well as a couple of rotten olives and some rancid goat-meat. |
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