Thread: Favoured of the Crowd (Alvis & Last Breath)

Empress Severina Aemilia, had been widowed going on four years now. Lucky for her she was revered for her abilities to rule just as well as her late husband. In fact before his death she was very much apart of the meetings between countries. Her opinion always asked for, most by her husband of course. So naturally when he passed, they left her in charge, with the help of an adviser of course. Before her two large men entered her seating box, and two more entered after her. Her dark hair cascading down her back to her hips, and crystal eyes scanned the crowd. She had purchased this box, over a year ago. Since the day she was talked into watching one of these barbaric battles by her cousin, she hadn't missed a single one. Well any that The Northman were involved in anyway. There was something about the way he moved that kept her coming back every time. The thundering sound of the crowd boomed in her ears. She never showed up until the very last battle, his battle, for this very reason. Glaring at the people closest to her, she took her seat. The floor of the arena was stained heavily with blood, the bodies had been taken away. The crier entered the arena, he was a small man, but with a big voice. She couldn't help but move forward in her seat as he announced 'her' warrior. The shouting and cheers grew louder, almost deafening from where she sat. Resisting the urge to cover her ears in an unladylike manner, she smiled when he emerged from the heavy gate. He was a man admired by both sexes. The men wanted to be him, and the woman wanted to be with him. She wanted him just as much, her own agenda was a bit more pure then others. Her status would never allow for a romance between them, this did not mean she didn't want him as part of her ranks soldiers. He could make an excellent captain. The sound of the gong indicated the battle was to start. Once again she found herself moving forward in her seat. The six men who had entered didn't stand a chance against him. This was proven soon, when he effortlessly slice cleaning through the first mans neck. The head landed and rolled back towards him. With a swift hard kick, he sent it flying into the stands. A look of disgust crossed her face, as she watched people scramble to claim the trophy. The battle went on as expected, with The Northman coming out with but one injury. He shouted in his native tongue, though she knew not what he said, she could feel the conviction behind it. As she stood to leave, she heard two men talking of the warrior. Her head snapped in the direction, then she leaned over the edge. He was up on the block, she looked back towards the arena floor where he still stood. Turning to one of her guards, go tell that mans Master, I will give him twenty-five thousand gold coin. She turned back to look at the warrior. Her heart was racing, waving off the guard go now! The guard nodded then rush down to the lower level, where to slave owners watched the battles. he was a large man himself, dressed in pitch black armor. A blood red plume hanging from the helmet he wore. He approached the old man, standing tall. The Empress wishes to make an offer for your warrior. Twenty-five thousand gold coin.