Chapter 1: The Extremus School of Gladia
Within the adobed walls of a classroom environment, a very famed teacher stood giving his brief student orientation lecture.
“Stamina. Stamina is what allows the body to endure the physical stresses of movement with weapons, armor, and weight. As a developing child, you have the gift of working through the pain and training extremely early than any of the traditional gladiators who start theirs at the age of 15 or rarely 14, and older of course." Evad's words of wisdom charmed his class of many attentive students.
His gladiatorial school campus is extremely popular for the underaged ambitious child. Out to grow themselves into incredible fighters, they learn their passion at an early age that otherwise would be restricted by common law within the metropolis. With training as young as 5 years old, one could only imagine what kind of fighter they'd develop into if they continue the rigorous routines of conditioning the body through exercise and abundant dieting tailored to their fighting styles. In the lecture hall facility of the Magnas Minorius, the aging teacher taught away for the new batch of recruits.
"As a reminder children, your bodies must strengthen bone, muscle, and ligaments equally to attain greater glory on advancing through your training. Please take care on properly exerting yourselves out there. I know we Gladians have adapted to these 130 degree climates like the smoldering seas of sand that burn our foreigners from the outer lands, but adaptation is a timely manner."
Right as the headmaster finished his words, a very brief melodic triumphant horn sounded on the campus. Evad gazed to his peckish students now eager for their mid afternoon's feastings, "Ahhh, it's lunching hour. Go on kids, this concludes your recruit orientation for today."
The gladiator children carried up their papyrus scrolls of notes within thin granite binders and exited the classroom one by one, the headmaster dismissing them off, "Use what's been taught to you pupils, and educate your fellow brethren and sistern when able. Learn and study from your those above you as well." Evad said, admiring the children's opportunities that he himself wished he had as a child.
Groups of students exited the 4 sets of double doors of the mighty several storied lecture hall cornered on the north eastern edge of the sunny campus square. Children gladiators of all varying shapes and styles populated the campgrounds. For half of them, they socialized the short while as they headed in and out of the campus's cafeteria.
The food and sanitation distribution of the school is efficient, housing a large passing room where students rinse their hands in circulating communal soapy water sinks and fresh water ones at the end. The bustling cafeteria is designed to quickly supply the students with choice foods and drinks. Distinguishing ceramic trays offer separation of foods while other trays bowled inward for the ones that mix together their food choices as a whole. Several aisles of edibles choices lined themselves up for the student's hearty need on replenishment, which their fighting style of classes required. For the heavier built fighters in need of thicker skin, they go for more of the breading choices and loads of seasoned barley. The thinner swift fighters go for more of the whole grains of oats and rice batches with ample helpings of apples and similar fruits.
Protein is a must for everyone to build muscular mass throughout their years of training, while meat is suitable for attaining protein, it fills the belly too quickly and sates hunger much longer compared to other choices. Little meats are chosen compared to loading on much more vegetarian protein options, lest the fighter is desiring weight loss.
Abundant drinks offer varieties of calcium, sodium, and vitamin rich supple refreshments. Produced from the bones of healthy cattle, salt rocks, and condensed liquids from fruits, the gladiator child restores bountiful energy to resume training as routine. Rarely do some request sugary drinks, this is mostly for the case of sick fatigue fighters sustaining long injuries. The soft drink raises blood flow across the body and adds a quick rush of energy to the core, which at its conclusion crashes down the consumer to a rest’s sleep. These kinds of drinks are only consumed for medicinal occasions.
Neighboring the trays are baskets of metal utensils smithed by the local blacksmith hut, its quarters just adjacent to the lecture halls to the south east campus. Metal like steel and silver in small quantities are easily forged for the horde of children's feasting utensils. Most students choose to eat outside, whether in the shade or sun, it doesn't bother them much. Few eat indoors, unless it's undesirable weather conditions outdoors.
Once a student finishes their mealing, they go to the wash rack of the cafeteria and rinse off their dishes and silverware, a few of them carting the clean batches of trays and utensils to be reused by the next batches of children back in the chow hall. There’s always seconds for the students who hadn't had their fill for the extraneous training soon ahead of them. After feastings, a lul period of a nap’s rest for the remaining hour, helps rejuvenate the fighters for the next sessions of strenuous training exercises.
At the start of every morning, breakfast is offered in the same fashion, as well as the lighter evening suppers. The dinners are more for formal event style dinings with tables or overall banquets.
"Training today was mediocre at best." A stern child gladiator said.
"What can you expect? It's the resting cycle of our training, tomorrow brings the hard exercise we'll be enjoying." Said one as the lot of them headed in for their mealings.
The new recruits washed their hands, greeting the chow director of the premises who was slowly crossing by against the flow of children opening themselves up quickly. The very dark toned man carried himself with caution, avoiding on burdening the passing children coming through.
Child voices quickly announce, "Move! Staff member coming through!" Rapidly creating a brief walk way for the head chow man's convenience.
Slightly embarrassed, the elder staff member made his way through, "carry on pupils and enjoy your lunching." He spoke rushing on by, quickly meeting with the headmaster just outside the double doors where more students congregated in patient groups letting themselves in.
"Numidian?" Evad greeted, shuffling through scrolls.
"Headmaster," the man gave a brief bow in greeting, "You're aware of my received summons to attend an invitational rally for the Insulae District's banquet? The Emperor’s visiting too."
Evad blinked in curiosity, "I am, though full details of this request are still to be disclosed to me."
"It is no question that they wish to hire out some of Gladia's best cooks to aid in making gourmet dishes for the metropolis's governors and senators." Numidian stated, unsurprised by the ramifications. With passing children glancing at them, the two carried on their discussion walking off around the campus.
Evad stroked his goated beard perplexed, "what I don't understand is why Insulae, out of the other districts? Theirs is notorious for its brash fighting, unsettling airs, and vulgar citizens inhabiting the underbelly of the metropolis."
"Humm, perhaps the Emperor wants to sponsor out some reputable causes, to hold some of the area's jurisdiction?"
"I'd see him trying to remind Insulae that their mischievous outward appearance won't deter even the very leader of Gladia from showing his presence in such ambiences. Insulae is just as important to him as our Extremus District all the way out here. Even if we're outside the metropolis's jurisdiction, he is swift to express us as part of it, still."
Numidian muttered. "Whatever the reason, my men and I will be absent from here until the event concludes." He worried about the childrens diet wellness standards.
Evad raised a hand to pat the chow director's shoulder, "feel free to do what you must, I'll bring some cooks from the Mercatus District to fill in your shoes for the time being, won't be the best feeding the kids will have, but they'll not say no to a meal when hunger pangs them. Otherwise, I know some of our females are always too eager to volunteer on the spot." Numidian nods his head in agreement, taking his leave, but then is momentarily asked, "be sure to discuss this venture of yours, with Savan. His further guidance... would help you in the pits of Insulae. I recall his family lives there, so he can get you in contact with the right personnel and setup." With that, Evad dismissed him. The two, heading their separate ways.
Time passes on where the conclusion of the day ends with funneling children scrambling to their final formations to be soon sent off back to their home districts. The ones that live in Extremus are housed within the very barracks of the campus's residential bays below the campus. The staff members march their companies of disciplined younglings in many rows of 4 columns into a trio battalion. Three of them, aided by graduate alumni gladiators and purposeful non traditional ones, entered from the three fence openings from the campus's north, south, and east entrance. The north company of children is guided by Gaul Crixus, an expertly trained mixed weapons instructor teaching duel wielders, trident net fighters, and a limited selection of unorthodox styles. His children stood tall and proud of their mentor and trainers to announce their presence.
"Cycle of the north prepared and awaiting dismissal, Headmaster Lanista!"
The gaulish skulled trainer yelled at attention, summoning a cadence call from the uniform children shouting next, "WE WHO WILL FIGHT YOUNG, THANK YOU!!!"
From across this formation stood the bulken brutish heavy weight fighter, Savan Ixion, who redden himself in armor wielding a heavy spiked mallet in the air announced his side battalion of younglings guided by his men, "Rattle the battles of war, for thou cycle south bring us out toughened and unstoppable to slaughter! We stand ready for dismissal!"
The trainer's children fell out of their formidable ranks to briefly and informally sparring their large two handed swords, hammers, and weapons of mass destruction in the air, blurting out rally cries of madness. "TORE HES STA MICH!!!" The rialling racket ceased quickly by the trainers. Crixus's helpful hands squinted at their rival's lunacy.
Finally the children from between the two companies emerged through their fence gate in one enormous phalanx of shields. Bursting out from the defensively stylish barrier, came Arkham Masonius, spear and shield bearer, teacher of swords, daggers, and weapons scaled in the arts of defense with large, medium, and small shielding, the mentor gallop one long jump with his trusty aid of trainers to their announcement,
"Cycle east but never least, beast our resolve! Styling for dismissal, Headmaster!" The trainer's younglings clapped their shields together echoing a roar of drum vibrating metals dissolving into the humid atmosphere of the sunsetting ambience as they kept formation.
Remaining staff members walked through the campus archway that conjoined the cafeteria and resource buildings together, these members joining for the final briefings of the day.
Upon the school lecture hall, a short balcony door opens revealing the aging master. His humble face matched his gracing presence. Entering in view, all the children's heads shifted to him. Evad adjusted his one arm long sleeve from his custom tunic, revealing a scroll.
"Ahmm, let's see here, Salutations everyone! Today I see you're all eager for another hard day's training ahead of you by the marrow." The Headmaster stroked his goated beard and reviewed his notes brought to him by the trainers and staff members. "Oh, I see that the north cycle has accomplished their running sessions a little bit earlier than is to be expect, well?" Evad thrusts a hand gesture to Ixion's and Masonius's companies as to their response to this.
Arkham, with slightest laugh tells Savan rhetorically, "so the pep team of our brother in arms has beaten us to the leg, eh?"
The masked armored mongrel grumbled under the helm, "Away with your verbal humor comrade, my younglings have challenges that struggle harsher trainings than some cardiovastic joggings."
Evad chuckled, centering his gaze between the three amassed groups of future gladiators put forth to do epic fighting in their prime in due time, "Today's training was minimal, tomorrow's, palpable. For you all will push yourselves closer to achieving gladiatorial success, meaning glory for why we stand on these very sands today. Our culture stems off of the remnants of what Rome could have been." Stretching a hand towards the sky, "Continue your practices and techniques, hone your classed skills and knowledge to the best of your actions." The sounds of horse carriages and stage couches rolled from a distance nearing around the campus, ready to receive the mass transit of gladiator students back to their homes. "By the way, your guy's favorite cook heh, cooks rather. They will be absent for some time."
The kids eye the lanista with curiosity and discern for their mealings onward, the three company leaders and staff stand by already aware of the circumstance. Their heads nod to and from each other, at their kids' displeasure of the current events. Evad sighs amusingly, "I've tooken the liberty on requesting some cooks from the Mercatus District to graciously fill in ours in the meanwhile. Otherwise," Evad rolls the scroll up, tucking it under his arm, "you're dismissed!" The children disband their formations heading on commutes back to the metropolis. Many of the parents have personally arrived to chat with the trainers, mentors, and even the headmaster before taking their youths back to their respective district homes.
As the sun toils down the horizon, a great many local children enjoy their personal time lingering around the campus grounds. Some loaf around the lecture halls studying up on lessons or attending club meetings. Others peruse the neighboring sights of the grand river shores where docking ships and fishing huts are. For what remains of them, they often occupy the bays, showering and resting themselves up early for another day in the life of a gladiator.
Female gladiator children and early teen girls have their own living and sleeping quarters divided amongst themselves. This is purposely driven by the boy's mutual request. Agreeing that the elder early teenaged girls are to have rooms for themselves since they are next to graduate sooner from the campus due to age. Hardly do the kids stay up, none of them seek to be the one who becomes sleep deprived in the middle of exercises and learning. It's a lightly frowned upon consequence by the gladiators in general, but much worse during training purposes. This is eventually corrected by such their social norm of standards and discipline coming straight from the childrens' expectations.
When the sun vanishes from view, what little light remains in the sky signals everyone to head in doors and into bed. When the darkness of night completely engulfs the campus, all are to be sleeping. Wandering up at night only includes nightly visits to the restrooms, which for most children here, they memorize the layout of their bays enough to wander out of their bunks and into their latrines lit by few torches.
In the morning brink of lightness, the children know to wake each other up when they are able to see their surroundings just short of shadowy darkness. Most rise out of bed, bladders full and eager for the restroom's toilets. Gladia's modern design of waste plumbing sends water sources from the grand lake through thick fabricated metal piping that exports human waste efficiently away, from homes, residential areas and any commode locations available in the metropolis and some settlements. Large empty sand deposits engulf the wastes of Gladians far into the deserts, where sand storms and weather in general, breaks down the rest. The children relieve themselves within stall adobe wall enclosed restrooms, similar to a port a john or shacks. The latrines are separated from the sinks room, where dental hygiene and head shavings are conducted for the male students who prefer being bald. Showers are also in a separated room. Once refreshed, the students cycle off with others, performing their bunk makings and equipping gear.
Afterwards, the students head out to congregate the cool morning campus grounds, awaiting for everyone else to show up. The early morning temperatures cool Gladians in the fahrenheits of 20s+. Just like the heat, they've adapted to such frosty chillings aided by the cold shower routines. Transit stage coaches and parents with personal carriages, arrive to drop off children to begin another day of gladiator training. As more arrive, they began to assort themselves in their perspective company cycles to begin another day.
Within the Lanista Villa, Evad brews himself up a cup of hot red tea. The morning chills come to a lukewarm of light breezes. His villa, consisting of a very large patio area, allows many of his servants and relatives to congregate. As morning breakfast is being served, five beautiful young women appear at the stair entrance being guided by one of his servants.
The tan tunic servant beckons, "Headmaster Nortorapoly, some informants arrive here with news for your issued cook slots to be temporarily filled."
Evad signals his hand to allow them to come in. He studies the females, seeing their wears familiar, lightly colorful from a particular woman he knows of. As the ladies present themselves before the headmaster and his family, one of them introduces herself and her colleagues. Bowing in courtesy, "I am maiden Adrena Coulia, these are my friends, we're here with news about your summons at the need of cook replacements for the moment."
Evad sips his tea. "Did my request for helpers intrigue Mrs. Oralcosis? For what does she want from me?" Evad said, squinting suspiciously, cupping his hot tea, moistening the tip of his fingers with the warm liquid and then rubbing his hands with it.
The ladies eyed each other nervously. "Umm we just chanced the news of your request is all."
"Chanced," Evad lightly cleared his throat, "is a really difficult outcome for whom I sought to have standing before me today."
Adrena ups her guard in offense, "Wha what? How dare you? We get sent news to be here and now you say we're illegitimate?" She leans in towards the lanista, "You're rude!"
Evad's relatives chuckle up and whisper amongst each other, knowing that an insult on their well famed own won't be so easy to whine off. The man, placing a finger on Adrena's lips, catches her off guard. Evad's eyes for but a moment stare up to hers seriously, putting her in her place not to speak out of hand, his eyes then become friendly mannered and graceful. Lifting his open hand towards her four friends, the headmaster playfully inquires,
"Who is Acolytus?"
The four girls' eyes widen, nervous about the headmaster's suspicions. Adrena leans away from him, her eyes scolding his natural dominance for a man too well respected by great ones, she gestures at her company to be out with it already.
Each of the four described a little bit about the Acolytus, the retiarius;
"He's our handsome, worthy manservant to our lady."
"Home carer for all our cleaning needs."
"Wise young advisor to us maids."
"Cook Advisory Director."
Evad quickly snapped his fingers at the final remark made about Acolytus. "That's the one, a CAD. Acolytus is a CAD," shifting his gaze to Adrena, he stands up, out matching her height by a few inches, "so when I sent word to the only male CAD from your feminine exclusivized establishment, heh hehe, truly, the only male gladiator fighter from there, I expect that this... fine young man to be here, without any doubt."
Adrena tries her rebellious curiosity to oppose Evad, "Perhaps she wants to keep that fine young man for herself," squints a cocky confident look back at Evad, "unless there's an offer you'd play her for."
Evad blinked unimpressed, "Humph, no offers ever come about from that woman when it's to a man, only demands." He gulps down the rest of his cup of hot tea, sighing refreshingly. "What does that headmistress lanistress of Mercatus want from me now?"
Adrena withdraws her notes from her sleeve only right arm, handing them to the noble headmaster, who then proofreads the request and conditions.
The 5 women stand perplexed at how easy the dealing with this lanista is turning out. Evad observes the note while walking towards the exit, where the ladies arrived. Surprised, Adrena took her leave, following next to the lanista as she spoke,
"Well, a deal is a deal, we'll be heading off now, we'll summon Acolytus here once we return back..."
The headmaster lifted a hand to pause her speaking and halt the group of women, "Ummm no. Leave that chap be,” His stern eyes review the 5 women. “I like him where he is at, always snuggled up to 'her' every need indeed." Evad's next words shocked the ladies. "You five will do, for his place." He said as he walked off towards the downward stone stair casing entrance of his grand patio.
Adrena took off after him followed by her company, "Wait wait what!?" Evad continued his brisk causal looking walk towards his school. "You can't be serious, I only ever cooked for myself and maybe a few people is all." Evad stayed his course, heading ever closer to his school campus. Adrena was confident in swaying Evad out of putting herself and her girls on cook duty for hundreds of children. "Besides there's plenty of time to get the cooks you prefer anyhow." When the headmaster neared his school, Adrena challenged him. "We never agreed on any of this, my girls and I are leaving this instance old man."
This stopped the headmaster for a what seem like seconds, then he turned over to glare at Adrena, marching over to her, close and personal, fet up with her jargon, "None of my children care about how well you cook, nor do they give a flopping grain of sand what you think you are." Adrena blinked at Evad as he reasoned on, "It was your fair lady mistress who failed to see that just as she plays her immature antics with me, YET AGAIN, you and your associates pay the consequences for her leadership qualities. You don't have any problems with me because in reality, you have them with her. Your griping and excuses only insult your mistress further while they meagerly amuse me on how out of place you are, especially as a woman of Gladia." Evad's words impacted her thinking as she felt bad, adjusting to what's really happening. "So now, my dear... please, cease this rancid mood of yours. Take care of the responsibilities that led you here and be done with it already, yes?" The lanista gestures a welcoming hand towards his school.
Adrena, stumped on her thinking, blinks away a tear to reconsider her actions, breathing hard once, preparing to apologize. Her friends tell her to just ditch him but she instead tells them, "No girls," turning to Evad, "Forgive my unkindness and unjustified quarreling, please,” she sighed, “show us to our temporary roles, Headmaster." Her friends' sour faces shift to ones of confusion as they follow along.
Evad exhales a quick sigh of gratitude, "Hmm. Right this way."
Students congregated at the school grounds, the last batches of children slowly making their way out of the bus coached vehicles. It's alright to be late from time to time for training sessions, Gladia holds much of the individual to choose how important they chase their goals on becoming outstanding gladiator fighters. When the sun barely shines itself in view of the school, a battle horn is played signaling the students to take formations immediately as their mentors and trainers come through the central archway, where the remaining staff members came from during the final formation.
i.e. On cloudy days, the school's first formation horn is delayed for longer, most cases involve roll callers determining the start of the day.
"Get to moving!" "Formation!" "Shields at the ready!" Are the sayings coming from the mentors as the trainers take their spots, leaving the middle open for their leaders. As the scuffling subsides, Evad appears from his office balcony of the triangular lecture hall department. 4 messenger kids fall out of their company ranks to head over to the mentors, these children are nominated squad leaders who perform roll calls, status updates, and minor leadership roles for the trainers and mentors, they're able to skim the ranks at rapid successions to inform their company leader as to how many are missing. Their ranks notify the squad leader of who’s occupied with tasks, sick, or plainly absent. As each of the mentors receive small scroll notes about their company's role attendance, the north cycle is always prepared to give theirs first.
Gaul Crixus's voice roars up in announcement, "Headmaster, 72 present, none gone, sick, or occupied.
Evad awaits for the other two's roll calls.
"Headmaster, 63 present, 2 sick, 1 occupied with blacksmithing duties." Arkham Masonius stated.
Evad nodded his head, crossing off the boy’s name from his list. "Tracking, that boy wants to be in permanent detail. I’m sure blacksmith Mits will report that to me of his newly acquired apprentice."
"Understood Master."
The brute secutor Savan Ixion growled at his roll callers as the 4 shuddered away, shifting his gaze up to the headmaster, "56 present, 6 sick, 3 preoccupied with trash detail..." Slams his mallet to the ground, "9 absent Headmaster."
The two other mentors avoid looking at the grumpy company leader, his lack of disciplined students was surprising every time. It's quite suitable for such a group of destructive fighters to be more, unorthodox, especially when it comes to standards, it's often forgiven for the sheer amount of training they'd endure related to their classes and styles.
Evad nodded a half smile, "Very well, leadership, take charge of morning fitness trainings." Each of the mentors perform an about face, facing their company of students, falling them out on their good day of training ahead of them.
Throughout the morning, much of the children's time is spent exercising. Many wells surround the campus to hydrate students. As the day hottens, much water is needed to quench the herds of sweating heads and dry mouths. The South Cycle of children focus mainly on muscle gains, lifting barbell stones, and many sandbag exercises.The North Cycle practices with the wooden training dummies, propelling the students on all sorts of striking maneuvers and stamina building. The East Cycle bursts their day with shield arm limb strengthening, resisting countless bash attacks from a variety of incoming offenses. Each cycle performs according to their belief of achieving progress towards their next milestone. They all eventually perform the same exercises, just much more tailored for their preferred ones, being the longest. After an hour's passing, the students attend breakfast morsels; a mealing fit to bring energy for the rest of the morning for sure.
The chow hall cafeteria had few options of food due to the new temporary staff members. The children lined up in a regular style school lunching, customary of the other districts. A simple put everything on a plate and go option didn't seem as bad as hungry children go. Adrena and her friends, as lunch servers, were impressed that the children took their amateur preppings for the meal with gratitude, being glad to fill their bellies with something rather than nothing.
Evad appeared at the very end of the line when every child had their portions first. "Ladies," he bowed his head, "what's for breakfast."
Adrena tried not to let her attitude get to her, "Simple options Headmaster, some fruits, veggies, and a main course of meat with some bread."
Evad placed his plate on the serving line, as they scooped what little servings were left. The man glanced at the low quality meal before him. "Hehe, barely enough for me." He jested. "Listen, this final meal will go to Mits, our blacksmith. Wash up your cook equipment and meet me outside the chow hall." The girls wondered what else he had for them to do, as they scraped what little remained of the food scraps into compost bins. Washing the remaining equipment and unbidden their apron wares, they hooked them on the wall racks, heading towards the exit of the kitchen.
