Sit Ludos Incipere!
ϟ Rising before the Atraxian sun, Aya's estate was bustling with the rapid footsteps of servants as they prepared Barakael for his debut in the Sand Dragon League. There was much hustle and bustle as Aya and her left and right hands coordinated with the tailors and designers pouring over sketches as Barakael was being measured by men and women from all sides, a smirk on his face as he was proud of his body and didnt mind having hands all over it. Looking to Lady Aya, he nodded, trusting her judgment in the style and design of his debut outfit.
From there, he was whisked away, a bath fixed for him to cleanse his body of the sweat and grime of training. He needed to be pure and free of the filth. He didn't know that a bath could be so... invasive, but he loved it. A multitude of hands and brushes ran over his body, and in vigorous scrutiny, Aya & the others watched in the wings. Giggles abound as the female servants groped and prodded him while they scrubbed him. Once he was bathed extensively and polished to Aya's specifications, he was given a robe and taken to where they were hard at work designing his attire for the day. Aya soon joined him as he watched the tailors and craftsmen at work.
"Are you ready?" she purred, a hand coming to take his larger one in it. He didnt speak, and the elven woman could tell he was within his own self-contemplation. She let the air remain silent for a few more moments before going to address him once more. "What exactly is your mind, Barakael?" It wasnt as commanding as it may have come off, but he squeezed her hand, his eyes never leaving the outfit as it was being assembled. "Its all so surreal now. Today I begin my climb to greatness." he purred, a smirk creeping onto his lips.
"Indeed, it is my lion prince. If Dues Aværys wills it, this is only the beginning. Your father will be proud of how far you will go." she encouraged, rubbing the small of his back as they watched. It was coming together nicely, and after two long hours, it was finally complete. Dressed and splashed with aromatic oils and perfumes, Aya and her entourage escorted Barakael to the grand colosseum. Before entering the massive arena, he took a moment to take it all in. Walking up to the wall, he placed a hand on the aged sandstone brick.
"How many legends have you seen, how many lives have come and gone within your walls? How much blood has soaked your sands?" he asked, as he slowly ventured into the arena. Once within its walls, Aya took him to where the sponsors and participants were. There was a healthy crop of contenders this year. Barakael scanned the room, sizing up those he felt would be worthy competition. He then realized that everyone else was doing the same to him.
"Such interesting talent this season." she mused, waving to those who recognized her, noting the whispers and murmuring in the background. Finding their spot, Aya fixed the finishing on Barakael's outfit. His golden amber orbs looked down at the elven woman as she meticulously fixed the bits and pieces until she was truly satisfied with his appearance. "There, now you truly look magnificent, Lord of Lions." she whispered, taking a step back to truly take him in. The two exchanged a smile, Aya like a proud mother and Barakael like the son was living up to her expectations. The two shared in that silent moment, both remembering Barakael's father and the legacy of a fierce warrior he left behind for his son to exceed and surpass.
My, what a touching moment this is, Domina Anar. a male's voice came slithering its way into their ears, breaking their moment of silence. Annoyance filled Barakael's face, seeing it as a sign of disrespect, but looking down at his senatrix, he could see she held a pleasant visage, though he had come to know her facial expressions well, and whoever this person was, she didnt abide by them. Her skin was hot the moment he got within arm's reach of her. "Dominus Ramsil." she greeted, giving the man a bow, poking Barakael to do the same. Is this the young man responsible for you avoiding me, spending all your time on him?
He laughed as he looked Barakael over. To an unassuming eye, it was harmless, but Barakael had lived among wild animals within Aya's managiere and knew a predator's appraising eye when he saw it. The moonborn elf unsettled the lion prince, as if he would strike like a viper at any moment. He knew better than to let it show and stood tall, head held high, looking down upon the elf. "You could say that, I plan on having a win this year, so I had to ensure my lioncub was ready." she purred. "I must ask, where is your competitor this year?"
His smile went from ear to ear from her inquiry as he stepped aside, a male figure just as tall as Barakael stepping forth. Kozar here will be my tribute to the blood games this year, I have ensured nothing but the best and most vicious to represent me. he smuggly introduced. The man certainly looked vicious, evident from the stare he was giving Barakael, but the lion wasnt phased, he couldnt be, he had trained most of his life for this very moment. There was no way he could show fear, not that he had any. He was confident he would rise to the top. Before Ramsil could further try and taunt them, the league attendees began directing participants to their marks for the opening ceremony to begin. Bidding them adieu, Ramsil and his gladiator slinked away as Aya placed a hand on Barakael's chest, before taking her leave.
With a deep breath, he readied himself to be under the scrutinizing gaze of the whole of the Solunarium.
Fireworks and horns blared as the ceremony began, and chariots began to fill the arena as the stands packed with onlookers cheered and applauded this year's crop of participants. Each one was dressed uniquely to showcase who they were and what they represented, from illusory adornments to well-crafted armor and garments. They would parade around the colosseum until all 20 participants were within, then form four rows of five.
In front of them was erected a massive stage, one just as grandiose and lofty as the environs that the elite enjoy; soon, a lone figure stood at a pedestal. "Salve one and all, as we are gathered in these hallowed walls, on this sacred ground to usher in another riveting year of the Sand Dragon Games!!!!" A copious amount of cheer and applause erupted throughout the arena as the Master of Ceremonies began, hyping the arena as much as he could.
"Today, we celebrate the courageous men and women who will give both blood and life for fame, glory, and infamy. We shall come to know each participant and get a taste of who they are tonight, here and now." he noted, as one by one each participant would be called to the stage. Barakael realized what Aya had meant earlier when she said the talent was...interesting. That was an understatement. Some looked like they hadn't picked up a sword or spear in their life, while others blatantly were blood thirsty killers.
"No matter what is thrown at me, nor who I face, I will triumph." he mused to himself. It seemed he was next to go up on stage, and he mentally calmed himself. "Next, we have the Lord of Lions, The Stormcaller, Kemri Len'Mahes Barakael!!!" as his name was called, he dismounted his chariot and as he approached the stage, the masquarade mages went to work giving him an extra flare. Ethereal lions, massive in size and foot taller than him, flanked his sides. Lightning coursed with every step he took. Once he reached the zenith of the stage, the lions dispersed in a burst of lightning as it echoed and zipped throughout the area.
It was just as flashy as the other competitors' ascendance to the stage, and he found himself standing side by side with the MC, the area projecting screens for everyone to see them through a combination of magic and technology through Mnemonosyte shards. "Tell me, any nerves for your first...and maybe your last try at the Sand Dragon League?" they asked to which he shook his head no. No, there was no nerves or fear within him at this moment. "On the contrary I'm excited." the MC chuckled as he made the "Get a load of this guy" gesture to the crowd.
"We love to see the optimism. A little kitty has told me that your father was shuin to win his run of the Sand Dragon league, but was soundly defeated in the finals. Will you surpass him and obtain fame for yourself?" he inquired, trying to get under the gladiator's skin with his choice of words. "This is only a stepping stone. I plan to climb to greater heights as this is only the beginning." he explained. With that, a round of applause echoed throughout the arena. When the last of the competitors had been introduced and questioned by the MC, he bid them happy festivities. As the night came to a close, Barakael would need all the rest he could get, cause the games would begin bright and early in the morning. ϟ
"Vastian Speech"
"Tallenese Speech"
"Vallenor Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"
1st of Searing, Year 125, A.o.S
ϟ Rising before the Atraxian sun, Aya's estate was bustling with the rapid footsteps of servants as they prepared Barakael for his debut in the Sand Dragon League. There was much hustle and bustle as Aya and her left and right hands coordinated with the tailors and designers pouring over sketches as Barakael was being measured by men and women from all sides, a smirk on his face as he was proud of his body and didnt mind having hands all over it. Looking to Lady Aya, he nodded, trusting her judgment in the style and design of his debut outfit.
From there, he was whisked away, a bath fixed for him to cleanse his body of the sweat and grime of training. He needed to be pure and free of the filth. He didn't know that a bath could be so... invasive, but he loved it. A multitude of hands and brushes ran over his body, and in vigorous scrutiny, Aya & the others watched in the wings. Giggles abound as the female servants groped and prodded him while they scrubbed him. Once he was bathed extensively and polished to Aya's specifications, he was given a robe and taken to where they were hard at work designing his attire for the day. Aya soon joined him as he watched the tailors and craftsmen at work.
"Are you ready?" she purred, a hand coming to take his larger one in it. He didnt speak, and the elven woman could tell he was within his own self-contemplation. She let the air remain silent for a few more moments before going to address him once more. "What exactly is your mind, Barakael?" It wasnt as commanding as it may have come off, but he squeezed her hand, his eyes never leaving the outfit as it was being assembled. "Its all so surreal now. Today I begin my climb to greatness." he purred, a smirk creeping onto his lips.
"Indeed, it is my lion prince. If Dues Aværys wills it, this is only the beginning. Your father will be proud of how far you will go." she encouraged, rubbing the small of his back as they watched. It was coming together nicely, and after two long hours, it was finally complete. Dressed and splashed with aromatic oils and perfumes, Aya and her entourage escorted Barakael to the grand colosseum. Before entering the massive arena, he took a moment to take it all in. Walking up to the wall, he placed a hand on the aged sandstone brick.
"How many legends have you seen, how many lives have come and gone within your walls? How much blood has soaked your sands?" he asked, as he slowly ventured into the arena. Once within its walls, Aya took him to where the sponsors and participants were. There was a healthy crop of contenders this year. Barakael scanned the room, sizing up those he felt would be worthy competition. He then realized that everyone else was doing the same to him.
"Such interesting talent this season." she mused, waving to those who recognized her, noting the whispers and murmuring in the background. Finding their spot, Aya fixed the finishing on Barakael's outfit. His golden amber orbs looked down at the elven woman as she meticulously fixed the bits and pieces until she was truly satisfied with his appearance. "There, now you truly look magnificent, Lord of Lions." she whispered, taking a step back to truly take him in. The two exchanged a smile, Aya like a proud mother and Barakael like the son was living up to her expectations. The two shared in that silent moment, both remembering Barakael's father and the legacy of a fierce warrior he left behind for his son to exceed and surpass.
My, what a touching moment this is, Domina Anar. a male's voice came slithering its way into their ears, breaking their moment of silence. Annoyance filled Barakael's face, seeing it as a sign of disrespect, but looking down at his senatrix, he could see she held a pleasant visage, though he had come to know her facial expressions well, and whoever this person was, she didnt abide by them. Her skin was hot the moment he got within arm's reach of her. "Dominus Ramsil." she greeted, giving the man a bow, poking Barakael to do the same. Is this the young man responsible for you avoiding me, spending all your time on him?
He laughed as he looked Barakael over. To an unassuming eye, it was harmless, but Barakael had lived among wild animals within Aya's managiere and knew a predator's appraising eye when he saw it. The moonborn elf unsettled the lion prince, as if he would strike like a viper at any moment. He knew better than to let it show and stood tall, head held high, looking down upon the elf. "You could say that, I plan on having a win this year, so I had to ensure my lioncub was ready." she purred. "I must ask, where is your competitor this year?"
His smile went from ear to ear from her inquiry as he stepped aside, a male figure just as tall as Barakael stepping forth. Kozar here will be my tribute to the blood games this year, I have ensured nothing but the best and most vicious to represent me. he smuggly introduced. The man certainly looked vicious, evident from the stare he was giving Barakael, but the lion wasnt phased, he couldnt be, he had trained most of his life for this very moment. There was no way he could show fear, not that he had any. He was confident he would rise to the top. Before Ramsil could further try and taunt them, the league attendees began directing participants to their marks for the opening ceremony to begin. Bidding them adieu, Ramsil and his gladiator slinked away as Aya placed a hand on Barakael's chest, before taking her leave.
With a deep breath, he readied himself to be under the scrutinizing gaze of the whole of the Solunarium.
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Fireworks and horns blared as the ceremony began, and chariots began to fill the arena as the stands packed with onlookers cheered and applauded this year's crop of participants. Each one was dressed uniquely to showcase who they were and what they represented, from illusory adornments to well-crafted armor and garments. They would parade around the colosseum until all 20 participants were within, then form four rows of five.
In front of them was erected a massive stage, one just as grandiose and lofty as the environs that the elite enjoy; soon, a lone figure stood at a pedestal. "Salve one and all, as we are gathered in these hallowed walls, on this sacred ground to usher in another riveting year of the Sand Dragon Games!!!!" A copious amount of cheer and applause erupted throughout the arena as the Master of Ceremonies began, hyping the arena as much as he could.
"Today, we celebrate the courageous men and women who will give both blood and life for fame, glory, and infamy. We shall come to know each participant and get a taste of who they are tonight, here and now." he noted, as one by one each participant would be called to the stage. Barakael realized what Aya had meant earlier when she said the talent was...interesting. That was an understatement. Some looked like they hadn't picked up a sword or spear in their life, while others blatantly were blood thirsty killers.
"No matter what is thrown at me, nor who I face, I will triumph." he mused to himself. It seemed he was next to go up on stage, and he mentally calmed himself. "Next, we have the Lord of Lions, The Stormcaller, Kemri Len'Mahes Barakael!!!" as his name was called, he dismounted his chariot and as he approached the stage, the masquarade mages went to work giving him an extra flare. Ethereal lions, massive in size and foot taller than him, flanked his sides. Lightning coursed with every step he took. Once he reached the zenith of the stage, the lions dispersed in a burst of lightning as it echoed and zipped throughout the area.
It was just as flashy as the other competitors' ascendance to the stage, and he found himself standing side by side with the MC, the area projecting screens for everyone to see them through a combination of magic and technology through Mnemonosyte shards. "Tell me, any nerves for your first...and maybe your last try at the Sand Dragon League?" they asked to which he shook his head no. No, there was no nerves or fear within him at this moment. "On the contrary I'm excited." the MC chuckled as he made the "Get a load of this guy" gesture to the crowd.
"We love to see the optimism. A little kitty has told me that your father was shuin to win his run of the Sand Dragon league, but was soundly defeated in the finals. Will you surpass him and obtain fame for yourself?" he inquired, trying to get under the gladiator's skin with his choice of words. "This is only a stepping stone. I plan to climb to greater heights as this is only the beginning." he explained. With that, a round of applause echoed throughout the arena. When the last of the competitors had been introduced and questioned by the MC, he bid them happy festivities. As the night came to a close, Barakael would need all the rest he could get, cause the games would begin bright and early in the morning. ϟ
"Vastian Speech"
"Tallenese Speech"
"Vallenor Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"
