<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffffff">Regulus gracefully contained the flair of anger that erupted in him. His gladiators were nothing more than cattle to him until they proved their worth otherwise. This scrub, this Mettius, had yet to do so in his eyes, and if he wanted a show of strength, by the Gods he'd get it. He sniffed indignantly and smiled patronizingly down at the slave. "But, of course, slave. I would no sooner deny you that eloquently spoken request than I would deny..." he spontaneously decided the brute was not worthy of his barbed intellect and waved a dismissive hand to the assembly.<br/>
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"Black King, command your beast aside take up the sparring weapon of your choice and, Yannis, bring <i>Mettius</i> his." he moved to take luxurious seat on his own little pulvinus to enjoy the spectacle that was sure to unfold. He had chosen Yannis very specifically because he was well aware of the tension that existed between the two since the death of poor unfortunate, useless, Celsus. It amused him to see the pricking of egos displayed at his command. In his Ludus, there was no man bigger, or more important than he, and he would have it known.<br/>
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Ezara took neither offense nor threat from the man's challenge and approached for what it was; a desire to see words backed by deeds. To a man of his station, it was a reasonable and expected request and inside he applauded the man for having the gaul to speak his piece. For Ezara it meant the man potentially had the kind of vim and vigor that made a good gladiator. One must be willing to spit in the face of an opponent and even death. It would be a chance to size up the man, his skills, and if his desire was born of courage or spite. The bout would reveal all.<br/>
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He turned to hail his Dominus with respect and take his command.  He took only but a moment to choose his weapons, being wise to go for a light and precise blade to compensate lack of armor with nimble dexterity. He also chose a whip, a defensive measure he was well acquainted with. He returned to the line, turning to face the Dominus as his opponent finished preparing. <br/>
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Regulus waited, and while he was doing so, he ordered Tiberius to bring him wine and fruits. he wanted to enjoy the private spectacle and take detailed mental notes for the future. Some would be for the future of his Doctore, and some for his personal gloatings to his social arch-rival, Batiatus. Oh, he smiled, such a glorious day that would be! </span></span>