<div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/9/92/RexusBranius_%282%29.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Rexus Branius<br/><strong>Designation:</strong>Gladiator<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Ludus Metalla<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Anyone<br/><br/>Whilst there was nothing wrong with deception, Branius Rexus still found it made for an awful turn of events in the day. The warrior preferred a more hands on approach to everything that relied on not deceiving his opponent. But as his former Master – and friend if the gladiator must – insisted deceit was just another part of warfare, an addition to the ever lingering conflict which needed to be made a part of his better nature. For when one cannot rely on blades and kicks anymore, all one need do was focus where the blood spurted, and that took care of most of the matters.<br/><br/>There was something absolutely feral about the sight of a man bleeding, even if the man was Branius himself. It reminded him of what took place several years ago upon the Highlands, where each man bled ten times than any other man who ever fought against the Romans. The trick was to make a statement and make their cries hard, and by the end of the battle the Romans, having lost three times as many men as the ‘savages’ heard them alright. Yet there are still an unlucky few who remain suspended in time, in neither living nor dead, whose cries still echo forth every so often on the fields of battle they now refer to as the arena.<br/><br/>Therefore Branius found himself sitting on the edge of the baths reserved for warriors and their ilk; his eyes glazed over the puddle he scoops up in each hand and for a moment – just a moment alone mind you – feel those cries reverberate through streams that flow out of his hands and back into where it belonged. There was no struggle sweeter, no blight more evil... or victory better deserved than what was earned in that moment.<br/><br/>There was always a time and a place for the disgruntled, and this was Branius’s... as he finished cleaning himself up, lost in the past as it clung to him. He made a vow to himself he would make the new Domina see – just like the statement he made so many years ago – what she fails to acknowledge, wrapped in arms of one who lacks skill in both the arena and ardour... and that thought alone made him smile.