Gladiator Classes

Between Greece and the Danube, the Balkans hold a treasure of peoples going back further than memory, and writing. After incorporating Greece, Rome began to covet these lands, and first through diplomacy, and later by force, it brought this region to the fold. Along with its rich military traditions, Thracians would play a role in the Empire for centuries to come. The Thracian Gladiator pays homage to these people of swift warriors, a conquered foe which Romans learned to respect in battle. The Thracian is donned Shoulder guard and sometimes a small shield, but little else in defense. His might lies in his short curved sword, which gives him a wider range of moves, unpredictable to foes who have only confronted the tip of a Gladius. But the key to the Thracian is his character, emblazed in the Griffin on his helm: Half eagle, half lion, his fierceness and cunning make the Thracian a worthy opponent. And some believe, the cunning of the Thracian still waits for its chance rise up, since conquered never meant tamed.
When the Greek leathersmiths needed to fight, it was customary for them to reach for their Arbelos, the curved blade used on the hides. Cutting through men is not much harder than cutting through leather, you just need to be quicker. Honoring these improvised fighters, the Scissor wields the Arbelos like a second hand. Pulling down a shield, cutting through a net, finding an opening for his Gladius, the Arbelos always makes a path for the Scissor. Like adapting the cut to the different kinds of leather, he finds the right angle to slice through the strength of his opponents. When Artemidorus wrote "The Interpretation of Dreams", he said that a Scissor is a bad omen. This may be inspired by the fear of the Arbelos, which cuts leather from fat, winners from the losers, dead from the living. As long as the blade is sharp, for the Scissor its just another days work.
The symbolic pantheon of the Arena feeds of religion, politics, theater and cruelty. It's the passion and hatred of the people that demand sacrifice, taking human form and stepping out into the sand, to bleed. The Retiarius is one of said sacrifices: a satire of ancient captive enemies, a cautionary tale of military tactic, a foreign villain to the Roman military heroism. Without the more orthodox weapons of the armies of the time, the Retiarius catches and disarms, betrays and escapes, confuses and executes, with no care for the glory of combat. His Net hurdles the enemy, exposing him to the sharps thrusts of the Trident. And if these are lost in combat, the naked speed of the Retiarius allows him to use the Dagger, risking the enemy iron in a wager of speed. Another battle stolen to death, another disappointing evening for the crowd that whishes him to fall.
Most birds use feathers to fly, to hide and to keep warm. But some use them to show themselves, even with danger, telling the world: I am here, come to me. The Provocator takes a lesson from these animals and shows himself proudly in the Arena with two ostrich feathers on his Helmet. Opponents may approach a Provocator dazzled by his Helmet, and focus on the Gladius that awaits behind his Scutum. But from the start of the fight, the Provocator only has eyes for their feet. A consummated swordsman, he measures and counts, mirrors and feigns, tracing the steps in the sand like a hunt in the forest. When coming closer, enemies often forget that not all birds are prey. And when the distance is right and the stepping dance stops, they learn why stepping into the shadow of a Provocator’s feathers is a bad omen.
Among the rocky formations splattered along the coast of Liguria, the moryrus fish is at home. Despite the anger of the sea, the tides and the storms, the moryrus clings on, finding refuge on the coral and stone, where the mediterranean blue splashes into foam and salt. Just like the moryrus shelters itself from the waves in the rocky shore, so the Murmillo defends against the enemy with the weight of his shield. He blocks the frontal attacks leaning his Scutum on his Grieve, and wielding his Gladius with the protection of his Manica. Thus, he covers the perimeter, and allows his opponent to crash against his defense. A standing Murmillo is a tower of strength, waiting for a mistake by the opponent to counter-attack. Faster Gladiators may attempt to go around him. They may keep their distance, seeking an exposed angle, a distraction. But the Murmillo`s weapon is not his Gladius, but his patience. Firm like a rock, he lets the waves crash against him. And quick like the fish, he falls like the surf break on anyone who dares close to his shore.
Crowds prefer classic weapons, and Gladiators fighting with a Gladius, a Clipeus and a Helmet always carry favor as heralds of the age of heroes. But in the Arena, every choice of equipment matters and understanding the weapons of the opponent can make the difference in a fight. Following this principle, the Secutor flows and adapts to his enemies, chasing them down to the bitter end. These fighters wear helms without crest to avoid getting caught in Retes, and favor a smaller shield for quicker movement. But his tactic excels in controlling the distance to the opponent, first tiring and then rushing them when they have no more surprises to unveil. In the Coliseum in Rome, there is a Secutor who keeps his face hidden and carries a lion skin on his back. Some say he uses it to invoke the Strength of Hercules, or to find fame with the crowd. But there is a Weapons Master in the Coliseum who claims the lion skin is meant to distract from his covered face, a ruse by a young aristocrat to play Gladiator, and gamble with death in secret.
In the art of war, defense and offense are a balancing act, and concentrating on one leaves weaknesses on the other. But some have made this into a strategy of its own. In remembrance of a warrior style from Gaul, the Crupellarius makes a strong bet on the defensive side of a fight. Clad almost entirely in heavy Lorica Segmentata, only their hands and feet are somewhat exposed, making it very difficult to land a hit on them. But a price is paid: no chasing, no showing off, no energy can be wasted when you are dragging more than half your weight in gear. To defeat a Crupellarius you need to act quickly, finding an opening in the first few minutes to beat him down. If not, you will tire yourself against his armor while he waits. And when you have nothing more to give, his first move might be your last.
Rome inherited a proud tradition of hand combat from Greece. Unarmed fighters, with their fists protected by stripes of leather, would compete in the early Olympic games. In the Roman Gladiatorial games, the Cestus personifies this tradition. A quick fighter, relying on his speed more than weapons, the Cestus is always ready to improvise and adapt to their enemy. His leather glove, also called a Cestus, is far more deadly than it's Greek predecessors: Metal bars and spikes increase the weight of the hits, and can turn a head punch into a deadly blow.
Bringing down an animal and controlling it on the ground, is an essential skill of herding tribes. Unlike the hunter who wants to kill, they seek to control the animal, even if it's much larger than the herder himself. Through ropes and punishment, a heavier beast can be subdued and tamed. Exactly the type of skill that naturally translates to combat. It`s true that the Lasso is essential to the fighting style of the Lauquerii. They can whip, wrap, and pull, disarming an opponent and bringing it to the ground. The bigger the beast, the harder the fall. But there is more to the character of a Lauquerius than the effectiveness of their tool. Seneca once wrote, "All cruelty springs from weakness". And it is perhaps the weaker constitution of the Lauquerius which turns him particularly cruel, and sparks the sadistic grin that grows with every lash.
When the Hoplite Phalanx first met the Roman Maniple in battle, a centuries old paradigm was broken. The closed formation that excelled at frontal assault could not compete with the flexibility that Maniples acquired fighting in the uneven hills of Italy. And so the hoplite came close to oblivion. But the Arena is a place for second chances, and it is here that the defeated Hoplite becomes the Hoplomachis. No longer bound by a rigid formation, this Gladiator reinvents itself into an agile unit, charging with the range of his Dory and evading with the speed of a Cestus. The phalanx may be long gone, but a lone angry Hoplomachis echoes the sharp fear of a thousand spears rolling forward. And some say, when cornered, the Hoplomachis shouts "Molon Labe" before making his final charge.