Brandan Aidan (meaning Fire Sword) Also known as the Merry Celt
: GladiatorGladiator Type:
Dimachaerus, with a preference for Thracian Curved swordsAge:
A Tattoo on his left arm called the Helm of Awe, a Celtic symbol to induce fear and to protect against abuse of power. Many scars.Personality:
A man in love with himself more than anything else, he has learned to love life and has long grown used to enjoying what he can for as long as it lasts. He loves drinking, eating, fighting, sex (Not very particular over who it is with), and the adualation of a loving crowd after a victory, and he is very vain. He is a friendly individual overall, but some think of him as lacking a conscience, for even though he has killed many, many people, he doesn't seem to change, enjoying what he can when he can, and always living in the moment.Bio:
Born to a Celt tribe on the Iberian peninsula, he was not born to any leader of the tribe, or anyone important or famous. His father was a worker of the land, stount and silent, and his mother was in equal measure silent and submissive to her husband. Therefore, there was some debate over the child that they had. Loud and heady, even as a small child, he was lean and strong, with quick feet and fists and a quicker smile and an infectious laugh. He had as many friends as he had enemies among the youngters of the tribe, as he respected none and all, irreverent and playful, which frequently got him into trouble.
It wasn't long until a sword found it's way into young Bran's hands, and whether it was a mistake or a boon was a matter of great discussion among the elders of the tribe. The blade flowed naturally in his hands, becoming an extension of his arm with only a few months of training. Bran loved fighting, and he loved using the blade. He was ambidextrous, so two swords worked as naturally for him as one. At the age of Thirteen, he could best just about anyone in the tribe in a fair fight. Lean, agile and quick as a lightning bolt, the name chosen for him by his parents proved to be a happy coincidence. His creativity and love for elegant swordplay made him well hated by those he beat, as he frequently, in the name of fun, humiliated them during the fight.
However, despite this, he was introduced into the tribe's fighting force at the age of sixteen. While the discipline suited him little, the armor and the fact that he could now buy his own blades were an acceptable bonus. He was quit ehte ladies man, and he was frequently on the run from some angry husband or another. Despite this, was a loyal friend to those close to him, even if they had to endure some ribbing and pranks.
At the age of twenty, his troop enagaged an inviding Roman legion, who, despite the skill of the warriors, made quick work of the Celts, capturing many of the wounded which included a 20-year-old Brandan, who had suffered a serious wound to his chest with an arrow. His left lung had deflated and he hung in the balance between life and death until he reached Rome. However, he recovered quickly afterwards, as he was meant to be part of the attraction in the games happening at the time. Once he was fit and well, he was presented to the arena for execution ad gladium. The first gladiator sent against him was quickly dispatched, despite the fact that Bran was armed with only a dagger. He picked up the dead man's two blades and proceeded to beat three more gladiators, earning him the love of the crowd. However, three gladiators were sent out at once against him and, while he killed one and injured another, he found himself on his back on the sand.
And laughing, saying," This is a good death," In the broken latin that he had learned during his time there. However, the crowd, and the standing master of the games, declared that instead of death, he would be granted life in slavery, to perhaps one day earn his freedom. He was bought by one of the local Ludi, and was thence trained. He fought many fights, earning many victories and much coin, which were quickly spent towards food, drink and pleasurable company. He found that fighting in the arena was far more fun than anything he had experienced as a free man, so he held no thought for tomorrow. His near encounter with death had turned an already fun-loving man into a man that enjoyed life with a manic happiness, knowing that his life hung on a thread either way, and he would rather die having enjoyed it to the fullest than any other way.
When the master of the house died seven years later, the man's heir decided that he wanted to go into politics, selling his ludus and all the gladiators and slaves within, Bran included, who found himself sold to the house of Lucius Flavius, in Ostia Antica. Thinking he would recieve the treatment of a house champion from Rome, which he was, he found that the house of Flavius already had a champion. However, Bran was not one to be put off by mere details. After all, for one to become champion, one had to follow one simple rule:Character's Ons:
Mostly depending on his mood. Generally women, but he would not turn a man from his bed. Character's Offs:
Vore, bathroom play, extreme blood play, painPlayer's Ons:
View O/osPlayer's Offs: