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Damocles was not looking to this day in the slightest. As an exercise in enhancing the mutual cooperation and much-needed bonds of camaraderie needed between men-at-arms, House Drakos had instructed that a friendly contest be held amongst some of the younger men of their forces, with the prize being a specialized, one-on-one training session with one of their top leaders. Nominally, he did not oppose the idea at all. In some regards, he thought it a rather suitable way to create cohesion amongst the dragon units. Of course, that was all before he was informed by his baron that he had been selected to be the man who would oversee the winner's tutoring. Wonderful....
Accordingly, after the contest had been held, an eventual champion arose, some new blood by the name of Maximus. In his brief conversations with the man who regularly oversaw his day-to-day upkeep, Damocles had heard one or two promising things off this boy, but as far as he himself was concerned, he had more important affairs to tend to. As the leader of his own forces, he much bigger fish to fry than some random child-boy from Laconia. He already had enough of those wide-eyed youths swelling the rank and file of his own army back in Magnemea.
Needless to say, he was entirely uninterested in spending time in that vast flatland of a province, surrounded by the greenery and vegetation of a moderately prosperous territory. For the occasion, he rode on horseback to the breadbasket of Colchis, leaving his lieutenants to manage the affairs of the military he had abandoned in favor of this...alteration of plans. Given the nature of the event, Damocles had opted for a simple outfit, nothing too special or formal, just a simple tunic and training pants for what was to be a glorified training session. With him, were a pair of wooden weapons he had brought over, including a few shields, if that would please the other boy, so as to train in a matter that would be conducive of actual danger.
According to the information he had been given, the boy he was to train was particularly skilled with the sword and shield, a typical combination that only slightly deviated from the norm of spears and battery defenses. From what he could be bothered to recall, this child allegedly had a strong arm, a promising thing in the hands of a properly trained youth he reassured. As for brains, he could not remember much in respect to his contributions to the unit’s strategic or administrative front, making the Silver-eyed man think that this soldier was more warrior than tactician. He didn’t expect otherwise however, especially from one so young and untested in the ways of war. Mayhaps, if he proved inspiring enough, he could offer him a piece or advice or two, but as it stood, those brothels he had eyed along the way seemed more interesting than anything else.
“Maximus of Laconia!” he bellowed, unleashing a terrible, deeply authoritative, stentorian voice that could have passed off as a thunderbolt, had it not been for the otherwise clear skies that blessed the people down below. “Show yourself now!” once more roared the heavily muscled captain, causing the townspeople to go into a frenzy of rushed voices and fastened steps as they turned the heads to the general direction of the boy’s home. He would not waste his time going to the youth. If he had any interest in claiming his award, he would come to the man in black, not the other way around. With a deep sigh, he halted his pace in place, waiting for that poor, unfortunate soul to come out from hiding.
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Damocles was not looking to this day in the slightest. As an exercise in enhancing the mutual cooperation and much-needed bonds of camaraderie needed between men-at-arms, House Drakos had instructed that a friendly contest be held amongst some of the younger men of their forces, with the prize being a specialized, one-on-one training session with one of their top leaders. Nominally, he did not oppose the idea at all. In some regards, he thought it a rather suitable way to create cohesion amongst the dragon units. Of course, that was all before he was informed by his baron that he had been selected to be the man who would oversee the winner's tutoring. Wonderful....
Accordingly, after the contest had been held, an eventual champion arose, some new blood by the name of Maximus. In his brief conversations with the man who regularly oversaw his day-to-day upkeep, Damocles had heard one or two promising things off this boy, but as far as he himself was concerned, he had more important affairs to tend to. As the leader of his own forces, he much bigger fish to fry than some random child-boy from Laconia. He already had enough of those wide-eyed youths swelling the rank and file of his own army back in Magnemea.
Needless to say, he was entirely uninterested in spending time in that vast flatland of a province, surrounded by the greenery and vegetation of a moderately prosperous territory. For the occasion, he rode on horseback to the breadbasket of Colchis, leaving his lieutenants to manage the affairs of the military he had abandoned in favor of this...alteration of plans. Given the nature of the event, Damocles had opted for a simple outfit, nothing too special or formal, just a simple tunic and training pants for what was to be a glorified training session. With him, were a pair of wooden weapons he had brought over, including a few shields, if that would please the other boy, so as to train in a matter that would be conducive of actual danger.
According to the information he had been given, the boy he was to train was particularly skilled with the sword and shield, a typical combination that only slightly deviated from the norm of spears and battery defenses. From what he could be bothered to recall, this child allegedly had a strong arm, a promising thing in the hands of a properly trained youth he reassured. As for brains, he could not remember much in respect to his contributions to the unit’s strategic or administrative front, making the Silver-eyed man think that this soldier was more warrior than tactician. He didn’t expect otherwise however, especially from one so young and untested in the ways of war. Mayhaps, if he proved inspiring enough, he could offer him a piece or advice or two, but as it stood, those brothels he had eyed along the way seemed more interesting than anything else.
“Maximus of Laconia!” he bellowed, unleashing a terrible, deeply authoritative, stentorian voice that could have passed off as a thunderbolt, had it not been for the otherwise clear skies that blessed the people down below. “Show yourself now!” once more roared the heavily muscled captain, causing the townspeople to go into a frenzy of rushed voices and fastened steps as they turned the heads to the general direction of the boy’s home. He would not waste his time going to the youth. If he had any interest in claiming his award, he would come to the man in black, not the other way around. With a deep sigh, he halted his pace in place, waiting for that poor, unfortunate soul to come out from hiding.
Damocles was not looking to this day in the slightest. As an exercise in enhancing the mutual cooperation and much-needed bonds of camaraderie needed between men-at-arms, House Drakos had instructed that a friendly contest be held amongst some of the younger men of their forces, with the prize being a specialized, one-on-one training session with one of their top leaders. Nominally, he did not oppose the idea at all. In some regards, he thought it a rather suitable way to create cohesion amongst the dragon units. Of course, that was all before he was informed by his baron that he had been selected to be the man who would oversee the winner's tutoring. Wonderful....
Accordingly, after the contest had been held, an eventual champion arose, some new blood by the name of Maximus. In his brief conversations with the man who regularly oversaw his day-to-day upkeep, Damocles had heard one or two promising things off this boy, but as far as he himself was concerned, he had more important affairs to tend to. As the leader of his own forces, he much bigger fish to fry than some random child-boy from Laconia. He already had enough of those wide-eyed youths swelling the rank and file of his own army back in Magnemea.
Needless to say, he was entirely uninterested in spending time in that vast flatland of a province, surrounded by the greenery and vegetation of a moderately prosperous territory. For the occasion, he rode on horseback to the breadbasket of Colchis, leaving his lieutenants to manage the affairs of the military he had abandoned in favor of this...alteration of plans. Given the nature of the event, Damocles had opted for a simple outfit, nothing too special or formal, just a simple tunic and training pants for what was to be a glorified training session. With him, were a pair of wooden weapons he had brought over, including a few shields, if that would please the other boy, so as to train in a matter that would be conducive of actual danger.
According to the information he had been given, the boy he was to train was particularly skilled with the sword and shield, a typical combination that only slightly deviated from the norm of spears and battery defenses. From what he could be bothered to recall, this child allegedly had a strong arm, a promising thing in the hands of a properly trained youth he reassured. As for brains, he could not remember much in respect to his contributions to the unit’s strategic or administrative front, making the Silver-eyed man think that this soldier was more warrior than tactician. He didn’t expect otherwise however, especially from one so young and untested in the ways of war. Mayhaps, if he proved inspiring enough, he could offer him a piece or advice or two, but as it stood, those brothels he had eyed along the way seemed more interesting than anything else.
“Maximus of Laconia!” he bellowed, unleashing a terrible, deeply authoritative, stentorian voice that could have passed off as a thunderbolt, had it not been for the otherwise clear skies that blessed the people down below. “Show yourself now!” once more roared the heavily muscled captain, causing the townspeople to go into a frenzy of rushed voices and fastened steps as they turned the heads to the general direction of the boy’s home. He would not waste his time going to the youth. If he had any interest in claiming his award, he would come to the man in black, not the other way around. With a deep sigh, he halted his pace in place, waiting for that poor, unfortunate soul to come out from hiding.
Maximus immediately jumped at attention, though his heart was racing rapidly he faced Damocles who was ready to cross swords. The man who made a reputation of being a great warrior amongst his fellow soldiers however to the citizens of Colchis, Damocles is known as: Damocles the terrible. Years ago, Damocles lead a campaign against the Egyptians dominating every battle against them. It was said that Damocles had taken on one hundred Egyptian soldiers by himself killing them all in brutal fashion. Though like most stories it was exaggerated but Maximus couldn't help but be at awe of his prowess as a soldier and commander and feel dread of the many atrocities that allegedly committed during his time at Egypt.
But here he was staring at a tall, olive tanned man eager to cross swords. Maximus had recently won a tournament that was held by his brothers. It wasn't too much of a challenge since Maximus was a gifted Swordsman winning tournaments since he was 10 years old. Defeating his peers was no big deal to Maximus but an experienced soldier? Now that was someone Maximus wasn't eager to face then again how can he get even better as a soldier if he doesn't consistently face the best of the best?
Standing at attention though his heart was beating fast, Max stared at the man towering above him. "I'm here sir!" he shouted. "What is it do you need me to do?!"
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Maximus immediately jumped at attention, though his heart was racing rapidly he faced Damocles who was ready to cross swords. The man who made a reputation of being a great warrior amongst his fellow soldiers however to the citizens of Colchis, Damocles is known as: Damocles the terrible. Years ago, Damocles lead a campaign against the Egyptians dominating every battle against them. It was said that Damocles had taken on one hundred Egyptian soldiers by himself killing them all in brutal fashion. Though like most stories it was exaggerated but Maximus couldn't help but be at awe of his prowess as a soldier and commander and feel dread of the many atrocities that allegedly committed during his time at Egypt.
But here he was staring at a tall, olive tanned man eager to cross swords. Maximus had recently won a tournament that was held by his brothers. It wasn't too much of a challenge since Maximus was a gifted Swordsman winning tournaments since he was 10 years old. Defeating his peers was no big deal to Maximus but an experienced soldier? Now that was someone Maximus wasn't eager to face then again how can he get even better as a soldier if he doesn't consistently face the best of the best?
Standing at attention though his heart was beating fast, Max stared at the man towering above him. "I'm here sir!" he shouted. "What is it do you need me to do?!"
Maximus immediately jumped at attention, though his heart was racing rapidly he faced Damocles who was ready to cross swords. The man who made a reputation of being a great warrior amongst his fellow soldiers however to the citizens of Colchis, Damocles is known as: Damocles the terrible. Years ago, Damocles lead a campaign against the Egyptians dominating every battle against them. It was said that Damocles had taken on one hundred Egyptian soldiers by himself killing them all in brutal fashion. Though like most stories it was exaggerated but Maximus couldn't help but be at awe of his prowess as a soldier and commander and feel dread of the many atrocities that allegedly committed during his time at Egypt.
But here he was staring at a tall, olive tanned man eager to cross swords. Maximus had recently won a tournament that was held by his brothers. It wasn't too much of a challenge since Maximus was a gifted Swordsman winning tournaments since he was 10 years old. Defeating his peers was no big deal to Maximus but an experienced soldier? Now that was someone Maximus wasn't eager to face then again how can he get even better as a soldier if he doesn't consistently face the best of the best?
Standing at attention though his heart was beating fast, Max stared at the man towering above him. "I'm here sir!" he shouted. "What is it do you need me to do?!"
A cold, heartless stare manifested across Damocles's strongly marked features, clearly demonstrating his disapproval with the shape and tardiness that the boy had shown him in such a brief time. How dared this child, this little, insignificant, unproven child dare to come and speak to him with such a free, off-handed attitude and lax demeanor? This would not do. This would not do at all. Gods! He was hoping that the boy he was sent out to train was moderately capable, but if he couldn't even keep up with a scheduled appointment and make good on his promise to appear on time, as was the decent and common thing to do, then surely this had been a waste of the Magnemean's time and resources. How dared he shout? How did he even conceive of such a moronic idea? Was this child brain-dead? Oh Gods above...
"First, who said you were allowed to speak back to me? You are a brainless, spineless little create. Nothing more, nothing less. Second, when I address you I only want to hear either a Yes Sir or a No Sir. Thirdly, the next time you are incapable of being on-time I will personally make sure that you are disciplined to the highest extent of the military. Tales of your incompetence in following this very basic instruction interest me not. Am I clear?" chillingly ordered the towering Magnemean as he dashed his dismissive, grey eyes on the other boy's clothes and uniform, noting its rather unkept appearance and poorly maintained demeanor. "What is this? Do you not have any pride in your appearance? I will not waste my time training a mongrel that takes no pride in his clothes. Turn back to your homestead and return to me in proper fashion and a decent demeanor. You are a soldier, not a warrior or a savage, despite what your unruly appearance suggests. Move it...now!" brutally conditioned the overbearing militant as he manifested his sonorous, yet unforgivingly intense voice.
"Oh, and before you go and think that you can hide in your home, remember that I am keeping track of the time. If you take longer than five minutes I will turn around and leave this miserable, little village and turn back to Magnemea, where I will write back to your commanding officer over your ineptitude. Is that understood?" Further commanded the authoritative Captain of the Damned. His intense, grey eyes were fiery and overwhelmingly heated. His eyebrows were tempered downways and pressed beneath. His stare glared and struck with murderous precision. His lips were narrowly kept and tight. He had no time for this child's mediocrity, nor would he stand by it. He expected perfection and demanded satisfaction. If this boy, this Maximus of whatever the fuck he claimed to be from was incapable of following these most simple of commands, he would not waste breath with him. "Need I repeat myself? I said move it!"
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A cold, heartless stare manifested across Damocles's strongly marked features, clearly demonstrating his disapproval with the shape and tardiness that the boy had shown him in such a brief time. How dared this child, this little, insignificant, unproven child dare to come and speak to him with such a free, off-handed attitude and lax demeanor? This would not do. This would not do at all. Gods! He was hoping that the boy he was sent out to train was moderately capable, but if he couldn't even keep up with a scheduled appointment and make good on his promise to appear on time, as was the decent and common thing to do, then surely this had been a waste of the Magnemean's time and resources. How dared he shout? How did he even conceive of such a moronic idea? Was this child brain-dead? Oh Gods above...
"First, who said you were allowed to speak back to me? You are a brainless, spineless little create. Nothing more, nothing less. Second, when I address you I only want to hear either a Yes Sir or a No Sir. Thirdly, the next time you are incapable of being on-time I will personally make sure that you are disciplined to the highest extent of the military. Tales of your incompetence in following this very basic instruction interest me not. Am I clear?" chillingly ordered the towering Magnemean as he dashed his dismissive, grey eyes on the other boy's clothes and uniform, noting its rather unkept appearance and poorly maintained demeanor. "What is this? Do you not have any pride in your appearance? I will not waste my time training a mongrel that takes no pride in his clothes. Turn back to your homestead and return to me in proper fashion and a decent demeanor. You are a soldier, not a warrior or a savage, despite what your unruly appearance suggests. Move it...now!" brutally conditioned the overbearing militant as he manifested his sonorous, yet unforgivingly intense voice.
"Oh, and before you go and think that you can hide in your home, remember that I am keeping track of the time. If you take longer than five minutes I will turn around and leave this miserable, little village and turn back to Magnemea, where I will write back to your commanding officer over your ineptitude. Is that understood?" Further commanded the authoritative Captain of the Damned. His intense, grey eyes were fiery and overwhelmingly heated. His eyebrows were tempered downways and pressed beneath. His stare glared and struck with murderous precision. His lips were narrowly kept and tight. He had no time for this child's mediocrity, nor would he stand by it. He expected perfection and demanded satisfaction. If this boy, this Maximus of whatever the fuck he claimed to be from was incapable of following these most simple of commands, he would not waste breath with him. "Need I repeat myself? I said move it!"
A cold, heartless stare manifested across Damocles's strongly marked features, clearly demonstrating his disapproval with the shape and tardiness that the boy had shown him in such a brief time. How dared this child, this little, insignificant, unproven child dare to come and speak to him with such a free, off-handed attitude and lax demeanor? This would not do. This would not do at all. Gods! He was hoping that the boy he was sent out to train was moderately capable, but if he couldn't even keep up with a scheduled appointment and make good on his promise to appear on time, as was the decent and common thing to do, then surely this had been a waste of the Magnemean's time and resources. How dared he shout? How did he even conceive of such a moronic idea? Was this child brain-dead? Oh Gods above...
"First, who said you were allowed to speak back to me? You are a brainless, spineless little create. Nothing more, nothing less. Second, when I address you I only want to hear either a Yes Sir or a No Sir. Thirdly, the next time you are incapable of being on-time I will personally make sure that you are disciplined to the highest extent of the military. Tales of your incompetence in following this very basic instruction interest me not. Am I clear?" chillingly ordered the towering Magnemean as he dashed his dismissive, grey eyes on the other boy's clothes and uniform, noting its rather unkept appearance and poorly maintained demeanor. "What is this? Do you not have any pride in your appearance? I will not waste my time training a mongrel that takes no pride in his clothes. Turn back to your homestead and return to me in proper fashion and a decent demeanor. You are a soldier, not a warrior or a savage, despite what your unruly appearance suggests. Move it...now!" brutally conditioned the overbearing militant as he manifested his sonorous, yet unforgivingly intense voice.
"Oh, and before you go and think that you can hide in your home, remember that I am keeping track of the time. If you take longer than five minutes I will turn around and leave this miserable, little village and turn back to Magnemea, where I will write back to your commanding officer over your ineptitude. Is that understood?" Further commanded the authoritative Captain of the Damned. His intense, grey eyes were fiery and overwhelmingly heated. His eyebrows were tempered downways and pressed beneath. His stare glared and struck with murderous precision. His lips were narrowly kept and tight. He had no time for this child's mediocrity, nor would he stand by it. He expected perfection and demanded satisfaction. If this boy, this Maximus of whatever the fuck he claimed to be from was incapable of following these most simple of commands, he would not waste breath with him. "Need I repeat myself? I said move it!"
Damocles somewhat reminded Maximus of his drill instructor when he first enlisted in the Fifth Phalanx. His name was Gelon though he was known by the people who trained under him: Gelon the Tyrant. To say Gelon was a jerk would be putting it very lightly. Gelon was a sadistic instructor who seemed to derive pleasure. On the first day Gelon yelled and screamed at Maximus and the recruits saying that he'll mold them from Gelatinous Cubes to killers praying for war. Saying that they aren't human beings even slapping one of the recruits across the face whom according to Gelon did not have his legs completely spread out when standing at attention. Though Maximus excelled during the basic training, that didn't mean he was safe from Gelon's verbal abuse.
When the recruits had to go through an obstacle course specifically trying to climb up a makeshift building. Maximus already soaked with sweat from the strenuous obstacle course was a bit slower climbing up the wall. He was trained by his father and Grandfather in the arm of climbing but Maximus' body was crying out in pain his grip on the wooden board starting to loosen. As he craned his head upward he saw Gelon glaring daggers at Maximus. "Hurry up Maximus!" he yelled. "You climb like old people fuck!" The young man remembered wanting to hurry up and reach the top so he punch Gelon in the face but he held back. He could tell that Gelon dared Maximus to talk back or punch him and he didn't want to give the satisfaction.
"Sir sorry sir!" Maximus screamed back at Damocles. Damocles was nowhere near as insulting as Gelon. Brainless and spineless? Please Gelon was more creative than that. Gelon probably say something along the lines of threatening to gauge out Maximus' eyes and skullfucking him. In fact he once threatened a recruit with something along those lines.
"Sir yes sir!" Maximus shouted when Damocles criticized his attire. It was the typical off-duty clothing soldiers wear. Maximus didn't recall that he had wear armor for this event Was it a live weapons practice? Part of Maximus had to admit it'll be pretty exciting to spar with a living legend. However something told him that he'll reduced mince meat.
The young man ran to the back placing his armor, to Maximus the armor was like his second skin. It made him feel invulnerable and bold, a proud Hoplite for the Colchian army. The young man had been practicing putting on and getting around his armor. A Hoplite must move with the speed of Hermes as you'll never know when an enemy will spring ambush on a camp. It took Maximus 3 minutes to place everything on. With the last thing was buckling belt which held his Xiphos. Satisfied the young man rushed back to the Captain of the Damned and stood at attention staying silent and awaiting Damocles orders.
Damocles wanted a soldier? Well he got one.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Damocles somewhat reminded Maximus of his drill instructor when he first enlisted in the Fifth Phalanx. His name was Gelon though he was known by the people who trained under him: Gelon the Tyrant. To say Gelon was a jerk would be putting it very lightly. Gelon was a sadistic instructor who seemed to derive pleasure. On the first day Gelon yelled and screamed at Maximus and the recruits saying that he'll mold them from Gelatinous Cubes to killers praying for war. Saying that they aren't human beings even slapping one of the recruits across the face whom according to Gelon did not have his legs completely spread out when standing at attention. Though Maximus excelled during the basic training, that didn't mean he was safe from Gelon's verbal abuse.
When the recruits had to go through an obstacle course specifically trying to climb up a makeshift building. Maximus already soaked with sweat from the strenuous obstacle course was a bit slower climbing up the wall. He was trained by his father and Grandfather in the arm of climbing but Maximus' body was crying out in pain his grip on the wooden board starting to loosen. As he craned his head upward he saw Gelon glaring daggers at Maximus. "Hurry up Maximus!" he yelled. "You climb like old people fuck!" The young man remembered wanting to hurry up and reach the top so he punch Gelon in the face but he held back. He could tell that Gelon dared Maximus to talk back or punch him and he didn't want to give the satisfaction.
"Sir sorry sir!" Maximus screamed back at Damocles. Damocles was nowhere near as insulting as Gelon. Brainless and spineless? Please Gelon was more creative than that. Gelon probably say something along the lines of threatening to gauge out Maximus' eyes and skullfucking him. In fact he once threatened a recruit with something along those lines.
"Sir yes sir!" Maximus shouted when Damocles criticized his attire. It was the typical off-duty clothing soldiers wear. Maximus didn't recall that he had wear armor for this event Was it a live weapons practice? Part of Maximus had to admit it'll be pretty exciting to spar with a living legend. However something told him that he'll reduced mince meat.
The young man ran to the back placing his armor, to Maximus the armor was like his second skin. It made him feel invulnerable and bold, a proud Hoplite for the Colchian army. The young man had been practicing putting on and getting around his armor. A Hoplite must move with the speed of Hermes as you'll never know when an enemy will spring ambush on a camp. It took Maximus 3 minutes to place everything on. With the last thing was buckling belt which held his Xiphos. Satisfied the young man rushed back to the Captain of the Damned and stood at attention staying silent and awaiting Damocles orders.
Damocles wanted a soldier? Well he got one.
Damocles somewhat reminded Maximus of his drill instructor when he first enlisted in the Fifth Phalanx. His name was Gelon though he was known by the people who trained under him: Gelon the Tyrant. To say Gelon was a jerk would be putting it very lightly. Gelon was a sadistic instructor who seemed to derive pleasure. On the first day Gelon yelled and screamed at Maximus and the recruits saying that he'll mold them from Gelatinous Cubes to killers praying for war. Saying that they aren't human beings even slapping one of the recruits across the face whom according to Gelon did not have his legs completely spread out when standing at attention. Though Maximus excelled during the basic training, that didn't mean he was safe from Gelon's verbal abuse.
When the recruits had to go through an obstacle course specifically trying to climb up a makeshift building. Maximus already soaked with sweat from the strenuous obstacle course was a bit slower climbing up the wall. He was trained by his father and Grandfather in the arm of climbing but Maximus' body was crying out in pain his grip on the wooden board starting to loosen. As he craned his head upward he saw Gelon glaring daggers at Maximus. "Hurry up Maximus!" he yelled. "You climb like old people fuck!" The young man remembered wanting to hurry up and reach the top so he punch Gelon in the face but he held back. He could tell that Gelon dared Maximus to talk back or punch him and he didn't want to give the satisfaction.
"Sir sorry sir!" Maximus screamed back at Damocles. Damocles was nowhere near as insulting as Gelon. Brainless and spineless? Please Gelon was more creative than that. Gelon probably say something along the lines of threatening to gauge out Maximus' eyes and skullfucking him. In fact he once threatened a recruit with something along those lines.
"Sir yes sir!" Maximus shouted when Damocles criticized his attire. It was the typical off-duty clothing soldiers wear. Maximus didn't recall that he had wear armor for this event Was it a live weapons practice? Part of Maximus had to admit it'll be pretty exciting to spar with a living legend. However something told him that he'll reduced mince meat.
The young man ran to the back placing his armor, to Maximus the armor was like his second skin. It made him feel invulnerable and bold, a proud Hoplite for the Colchian army. The young man had been practicing putting on and getting around his armor. A Hoplite must move with the speed of Hermes as you'll never know when an enemy will spring ambush on a camp. It took Maximus 3 minutes to place everything on. With the last thing was buckling belt which held his Xiphos. Satisfied the young man rushed back to the Captain of the Damned and stood at attention staying silent and awaiting Damocles orders.
Damocles wanted a soldier? Well he got one.
Once more, severe and utter disappointment awashed in Damocles's high strung features. His brow notched in a puzzled, bewildered expression as he saw the shape of the little youngling he had been instructed to tutor and train. Why in the divine name of all the Olympians did he wear heavy armor for what was to be a simple sparring session? Truly, his travel to Laconia had been reduced to an extended exercise in patience and collectiveness. This was not what he was expecting at all from the soldiers of one of the allegedly most-militarized provinces in all of the realm. Mayhaps, he would issue a full report to Lady Tythra herself. As one of her most senior military officers, he would have direct access to the Head of the Drakos at any time when he called for an audience. He supposed he could have found issue with the Captain of the Fifth Phalanx himself, but what good would come from scolding someone who was nominally his equal in rank?
"You are late, boy." summarized Damocles in a tone that did not allow for an explanation. He was not going to allow this child to make excuses for tardiness any longer. "And what are you doing? Gods boy, we are not in some field of war where armor is needed. That is it!" he snapped, raising his voice for the first time since arriving. Immediately, the towering militant dug his hand inside a small notepad and took out an accompanying pen to his position. Afterwards, he started to scribble something on the surface, scratching the nib of the pen with the flourished spirals of his elegant handwriting before he finished and sealed his notepad close.
"For your tardiness and utter lack of composure, I have written a report that calls for your demotion henceforth. This report shall be submitted to your superior and Lady Tythra of Drakos herself. I will not waste my time with a boy who pretends to be a man. Your presence is no longer needed for the day. You may go home and tell your parents and tell them that your commission as an officer has also been liquidated effective immediately, pending approval from the respective authorities. Here." he sentenced in a tone that was precise, chilling and emotionless as he handed the man the report complete with his intricate signature and everything needed to officiate the recommendation.
"Give this to the Captain of Laconia for his decision on the matter. Meanwhile, I shall send an identical copy to the Head of House Drakos so she be made aware of my judgement and wishes." coldly instructed the commanding man as he held out the paper for the other to grip it. "And if this report does not reach your superior, I will change my recommendation from demotion to dismissal. Am I clear?" he further declared, making clear that he was entirely serious in his actions. "Well, what are you waiting for? Do you want to further frustrate me, boy?"
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Once more, severe and utter disappointment awashed in Damocles's high strung features. His brow notched in a puzzled, bewildered expression as he saw the shape of the little youngling he had been instructed to tutor and train. Why in the divine name of all the Olympians did he wear heavy armor for what was to be a simple sparring session? Truly, his travel to Laconia had been reduced to an extended exercise in patience and collectiveness. This was not what he was expecting at all from the soldiers of one of the allegedly most-militarized provinces in all of the realm. Mayhaps, he would issue a full report to Lady Tythra herself. As one of her most senior military officers, he would have direct access to the Head of the Drakos at any time when he called for an audience. He supposed he could have found issue with the Captain of the Fifth Phalanx himself, but what good would come from scolding someone who was nominally his equal in rank?
"You are late, boy." summarized Damocles in a tone that did not allow for an explanation. He was not going to allow this child to make excuses for tardiness any longer. "And what are you doing? Gods boy, we are not in some field of war where armor is needed. That is it!" he snapped, raising his voice for the first time since arriving. Immediately, the towering militant dug his hand inside a small notepad and took out an accompanying pen to his position. Afterwards, he started to scribble something on the surface, scratching the nib of the pen with the flourished spirals of his elegant handwriting before he finished and sealed his notepad close.
"For your tardiness and utter lack of composure, I have written a report that calls for your demotion henceforth. This report shall be submitted to your superior and Lady Tythra of Drakos herself. I will not waste my time with a boy who pretends to be a man. Your presence is no longer needed for the day. You may go home and tell your parents and tell them that your commission as an officer has also been liquidated effective immediately, pending approval from the respective authorities. Here." he sentenced in a tone that was precise, chilling and emotionless as he handed the man the report complete with his intricate signature and everything needed to officiate the recommendation.
"Give this to the Captain of Laconia for his decision on the matter. Meanwhile, I shall send an identical copy to the Head of House Drakos so she be made aware of my judgement and wishes." coldly instructed the commanding man as he held out the paper for the other to grip it. "And if this report does not reach your superior, I will change my recommendation from demotion to dismissal. Am I clear?" he further declared, making clear that he was entirely serious in his actions. "Well, what are you waiting for? Do you want to further frustrate me, boy?"
Once more, severe and utter disappointment awashed in Damocles's high strung features. His brow notched in a puzzled, bewildered expression as he saw the shape of the little youngling he had been instructed to tutor and train. Why in the divine name of all the Olympians did he wear heavy armor for what was to be a simple sparring session? Truly, his travel to Laconia had been reduced to an extended exercise in patience and collectiveness. This was not what he was expecting at all from the soldiers of one of the allegedly most-militarized provinces in all of the realm. Mayhaps, he would issue a full report to Lady Tythra herself. As one of her most senior military officers, he would have direct access to the Head of the Drakos at any time when he called for an audience. He supposed he could have found issue with the Captain of the Fifth Phalanx himself, but what good would come from scolding someone who was nominally his equal in rank?
"You are late, boy." summarized Damocles in a tone that did not allow for an explanation. He was not going to allow this child to make excuses for tardiness any longer. "And what are you doing? Gods boy, we are not in some field of war where armor is needed. That is it!" he snapped, raising his voice for the first time since arriving. Immediately, the towering militant dug his hand inside a small notepad and took out an accompanying pen to his position. Afterwards, he started to scribble something on the surface, scratching the nib of the pen with the flourished spirals of his elegant handwriting before he finished and sealed his notepad close.
"For your tardiness and utter lack of composure, I have written a report that calls for your demotion henceforth. This report shall be submitted to your superior and Lady Tythra of Drakos herself. I will not waste my time with a boy who pretends to be a man. Your presence is no longer needed for the day. You may go home and tell your parents and tell them that your commission as an officer has also been liquidated effective immediately, pending approval from the respective authorities. Here." he sentenced in a tone that was precise, chilling and emotionless as he handed the man the report complete with his intricate signature and everything needed to officiate the recommendation.
"Give this to the Captain of Laconia for his decision on the matter. Meanwhile, I shall send an identical copy to the Head of House Drakos so she be made aware of my judgement and wishes." coldly instructed the commanding man as he held out the paper for the other to grip it. "And if this report does not reach your superior, I will change my recommendation from demotion to dismissal. Am I clear?" he further declared, making clear that he was entirely serious in his actions. "Well, what are you waiting for? Do you want to further frustrate me, boy?"
Maximus remained still at attention just enduring the barrage of words from Damocles. He did not flinch nor blink while he yelled at him, Maximus was used to the verbal abuse from his superiors it kept him strong and stoic. "I apologize for my tardiness sir!" Maximus yelled continuing to stand at attention. "I was wearing the armor that was given to me by my forefather's sir! It will not happen again! Shall I punish myself or should you deliver the punishment?"
Maximus was thinking about his drill instructor who often asked his trainees to choose their punishments when they make a mistake during training. Sometimes it was a flogging, sometimes it was pushups. While Maximus preferred to do pushups, he braced for a flogging considering that Damocles himself was a brutal man but had a warriors instincts. Thankfully it looks like he will be just written up for his lateness. It was something that Maximus can easily explain away after all his military record with the Colchian army was virtually spotless.
"Of course sir sorry sir!" Maximus said still locking eyes with Damocles, he seemed to be a man who would sniff out any weakness within a soldier and savagely beat the living daylights out of them. He remained as still as predator hiding behind the bushes to catch its prey. Damocles roared and raved like a madman. He was threatening to demote or even have Maximus kicked out of the Fifth Phalanx.
The young man remained silent trying to endure the verbal lashing from Damocles. "Sir! Yes sir!" Maximus said still standing at attention. Damocles was a serious man and if he irritated him further then his career may be over. Thankfully Maximus had his father to back him but Maximus didn't want to rely on him, he wanted to stand on his own two feet.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Maximus remained still at attention just enduring the barrage of words from Damocles. He did not flinch nor blink while he yelled at him, Maximus was used to the verbal abuse from his superiors it kept him strong and stoic. "I apologize for my tardiness sir!" Maximus yelled continuing to stand at attention. "I was wearing the armor that was given to me by my forefather's sir! It will not happen again! Shall I punish myself or should you deliver the punishment?"
Maximus was thinking about his drill instructor who often asked his trainees to choose their punishments when they make a mistake during training. Sometimes it was a flogging, sometimes it was pushups. While Maximus preferred to do pushups, he braced for a flogging considering that Damocles himself was a brutal man but had a warriors instincts. Thankfully it looks like he will be just written up for his lateness. It was something that Maximus can easily explain away after all his military record with the Colchian army was virtually spotless.
"Of course sir sorry sir!" Maximus said still locking eyes with Damocles, he seemed to be a man who would sniff out any weakness within a soldier and savagely beat the living daylights out of them. He remained as still as predator hiding behind the bushes to catch its prey. Damocles roared and raved like a madman. He was threatening to demote or even have Maximus kicked out of the Fifth Phalanx.
The young man remained silent trying to endure the verbal lashing from Damocles. "Sir! Yes sir!" Maximus said still standing at attention. Damocles was a serious man and if he irritated him further then his career may be over. Thankfully Maximus had his father to back him but Maximus didn't want to rely on him, he wanted to stand on his own two feet.
Maximus remained still at attention just enduring the barrage of words from Damocles. He did not flinch nor blink while he yelled at him, Maximus was used to the verbal abuse from his superiors it kept him strong and stoic. "I apologize for my tardiness sir!" Maximus yelled continuing to stand at attention. "I was wearing the armor that was given to me by my forefather's sir! It will not happen again! Shall I punish myself or should you deliver the punishment?"
Maximus was thinking about his drill instructor who often asked his trainees to choose their punishments when they make a mistake during training. Sometimes it was a flogging, sometimes it was pushups. While Maximus preferred to do pushups, he braced for a flogging considering that Damocles himself was a brutal man but had a warriors instincts. Thankfully it looks like he will be just written up for his lateness. It was something that Maximus can easily explain away after all his military record with the Colchian army was virtually spotless.
"Of course sir sorry sir!" Maximus said still locking eyes with Damocles, he seemed to be a man who would sniff out any weakness within a soldier and savagely beat the living daylights out of them. He remained as still as predator hiding behind the bushes to catch its prey. Damocles roared and raved like a madman. He was threatening to demote or even have Maximus kicked out of the Fifth Phalanx.
The young man remained silent trying to endure the verbal lashing from Damocles. "Sir! Yes sir!" Maximus said still standing at attention. Damocles was a serious man and if he irritated him further then his career may be over. Thankfully Maximus had his father to back him but Maximus didn't want to rely on him, he wanted to stand on his own two feet.
There had been few instances when Damocles had been utterly enraged by another soldier, and this had been such an instant. He was not going to continue on with this charade any longer. He had more pressing matters to tend to than to discipline some wayward soldier from a province that was neither his nor that he was particularly interested in. As far as he could tell, this entire exercise had been a waste of his time, and Magnemea had been left unattended for nothing but mere frivolities between units that seemed to not share the same level of commitment for order and discipline.
"I won't bother you anymore, young man." Said Damocles, quelling his rage as he mounted his horse again and affixed his gear, staring at Maximus with sheer coldness and bitter discontent. "I see that you are neither worth my time as a warrior, neither will my instruction be followed. Lieutenant, you may return home and keep to your day. I will return to Magnemea and make sure that this day's events are well-recorded and accounted for. I fare you a good evening." He said, nodding at the man with the same stoic coldness that was not at all the usual expression that formed across his face. If this was how the men of Laconia behaved, then so be it. Clearly, the men of the Damned were better organized than he had believed.
With that last word, the captain clicked the side of his horse and turned around, making away from this lamentable situation while trying his best to keep calm and not let his rage boil over to all-out wrath. It wasn't worth it to become lesser and lose one's composure in this situation. He had enough of the experience and had gathered just about the necessary information needed to write a full report to the man's superiors. Deep down, he was not convinced that the ways of the soldier were cut out for this man, but that opinion was neither here nor there.
Perhaps, he would reconsider later in the week and burn his annotations, letting bygones be bygones, but right now, he needed to go back to his army and his province. There were pirates and criminals that had to be taken care of, and though he trusted that his own lieutenants were up to the task, the commander of the Damned was in no way pleased that his schedule had been ruined in such a way. He might not have been this man's very own supervisor, but he was still a senior militant himself and had enough influence amongst the units of the Drakos to make a case be heard if he wanted. Most likely, that would not be the case, seeing as going to such a lenght would just show his own intolerance. Quite honestly, he just wanted to leave Laconia. Perhaps, if he left just now, he could make it to the dock before the last ship set sail back home.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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There had been few instances when Damocles had been utterly enraged by another soldier, and this had been such an instant. He was not going to continue on with this charade any longer. He had more pressing matters to tend to than to discipline some wayward soldier from a province that was neither his nor that he was particularly interested in. As far as he could tell, this entire exercise had been a waste of his time, and Magnemea had been left unattended for nothing but mere frivolities between units that seemed to not share the same level of commitment for order and discipline.
"I won't bother you anymore, young man." Said Damocles, quelling his rage as he mounted his horse again and affixed his gear, staring at Maximus with sheer coldness and bitter discontent. "I see that you are neither worth my time as a warrior, neither will my instruction be followed. Lieutenant, you may return home and keep to your day. I will return to Magnemea and make sure that this day's events are well-recorded and accounted for. I fare you a good evening." He said, nodding at the man with the same stoic coldness that was not at all the usual expression that formed across his face. If this was how the men of Laconia behaved, then so be it. Clearly, the men of the Damned were better organized than he had believed.
With that last word, the captain clicked the side of his horse and turned around, making away from this lamentable situation while trying his best to keep calm and not let his rage boil over to all-out wrath. It wasn't worth it to become lesser and lose one's composure in this situation. He had enough of the experience and had gathered just about the necessary information needed to write a full report to the man's superiors. Deep down, he was not convinced that the ways of the soldier were cut out for this man, but that opinion was neither here nor there.
Perhaps, he would reconsider later in the week and burn his annotations, letting bygones be bygones, but right now, he needed to go back to his army and his province. There were pirates and criminals that had to be taken care of, and though he trusted that his own lieutenants were up to the task, the commander of the Damned was in no way pleased that his schedule had been ruined in such a way. He might not have been this man's very own supervisor, but he was still a senior militant himself and had enough influence amongst the units of the Drakos to make a case be heard if he wanted. Most likely, that would not be the case, seeing as going to such a lenght would just show his own intolerance. Quite honestly, he just wanted to leave Laconia. Perhaps, if he left just now, he could make it to the dock before the last ship set sail back home.
There had been few instances when Damocles had been utterly enraged by another soldier, and this had been such an instant. He was not going to continue on with this charade any longer. He had more pressing matters to tend to than to discipline some wayward soldier from a province that was neither his nor that he was particularly interested in. As far as he could tell, this entire exercise had been a waste of his time, and Magnemea had been left unattended for nothing but mere frivolities between units that seemed to not share the same level of commitment for order and discipline.
"I won't bother you anymore, young man." Said Damocles, quelling his rage as he mounted his horse again and affixed his gear, staring at Maximus with sheer coldness and bitter discontent. "I see that you are neither worth my time as a warrior, neither will my instruction be followed. Lieutenant, you may return home and keep to your day. I will return to Magnemea and make sure that this day's events are well-recorded and accounted for. I fare you a good evening." He said, nodding at the man with the same stoic coldness that was not at all the usual expression that formed across his face. If this was how the men of Laconia behaved, then so be it. Clearly, the men of the Damned were better organized than he had believed.
With that last word, the captain clicked the side of his horse and turned around, making away from this lamentable situation while trying his best to keep calm and not let his rage boil over to all-out wrath. It wasn't worth it to become lesser and lose one's composure in this situation. He had enough of the experience and had gathered just about the necessary information needed to write a full report to the man's superiors. Deep down, he was not convinced that the ways of the soldier were cut out for this man, but that opinion was neither here nor there.
Perhaps, he would reconsider later in the week and burn his annotations, letting bygones be bygones, but right now, he needed to go back to his army and his province. There were pirates and criminals that had to be taken care of, and though he trusted that his own lieutenants were up to the task, the commander of the Damned was in no way pleased that his schedule had been ruined in such a way. He might not have been this man's very own supervisor, but he was still a senior militant himself and had enough influence amongst the units of the Drakos to make a case be heard if he wanted. Most likely, that would not be the case, seeing as going to such a lenght would just show his own intolerance. Quite honestly, he just wanted to leave Laconia. Perhaps, if he left just now, he could make it to the dock before the last ship set sail back home.