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    27 | 1 April 50 AD | Slave | Bodyguard / mentor | Asexual | Original | Jasper Pääkkönen





    As a young boy, Caturix was a boy who was filled with energy; someone who thought himself unstoppable until his mother pulled him in for dinner with his siblings. Loud and boisterous, carefree, a fighter and a smiler, there is a little bit of his young self which has survived into his adulthood.

Circumstances forced him to adapt, and whilst he has done the best he can with the life of a gladiator - there are certain things which had to be pushed to the back whilst others had been brought forward. 

To be aggressive was to survive - and survival was everything when in the arena. To wish for bloodshed and to retire to his cot alive formed the basis of his every day operations. However, there is still the boy inside him who wishes to explore - to see the world and to wonder what life is outside the ties to the wishes of someone else.

Despite his portrayal as nothing but a Briton and a barbarian who lives for bloodshed, Caturix is an intellectual. Preferring to be underestimated rather than overestimated in his capabilities outside of being a fighter. He is often level-headed, calm and very occasionally jovial around people he has grown closer to and have gotten to know.

However, there is a part of Caturix who holds a deep seated disgruntlement for the Romans who had invaded and inadvertently caused the passing of both his mother and father, leaving them to fend for themselves.



    Caturix is not an overly tall man, standing at the height of 5’7”. He is a lean man, but making no mistake for the musculature honed from years of hard labor and fighting for survival. He has blonde hair, shaved on one side and left long to cover a missing ear from his close shave with his opponents’ blade (something which he has been left self-conscious about); blue-gray eyes and a blonde, wiry beard.

Most notably is the tattoos on his face; covering the side where no hair is grown trailing down onto his neck, and hands where he has a similar pattern tattooed onto the back of both hands.

Each of his scars are a reminder of his years as a gladiator, a prisoner by the Romans, having been captured and used as nothing but a source of entertainment and such does not pay them much heed.



    Father: Lugotorix (the lesser, unknown)

    Mother: Catica (unknown whereabouts)

    Siblings: Rocatos (brother, 25), Rianorix (brother, 25), Barita (Sister, 20)

    Spouse: None

    Children: None (yet)

    Extended family

Bellicus - Uncle (paternal side)
m. Manduorix (aunt)

Tancorix - Tribe leader (maternal side, deceased)
m. Illica (aunt)
- Lucile (cousin)
- Atto (cousin)
- Catus (cousin)

    Other: Unknown



    CHILDHOOD [ 50-60 AD ]

Born on 1 April 50 AD as the eldest brother and child of the family. Caturix was the healthiest child born to Catica and Lugotorix - belonging to his mother’s brother’s tribe. He had been born seven years after the Roman’s conquest into Britannia.

Tancorix was constantly on edge to protect his tribe from the Romans as they marched to the South, with young Caturix watching from the sides - one day knowing that he would come under the need to protect his family as the years passed and his brothers; Rocatos and Rianrix were born, twins followed shortly with their only sister, Barita.

Education had never been his biggest strength, much rather learning by more practical means - hunting, gathering and fighting alongside boys who were often thrice his size.

Eventually, he had watched as his tribe and the Romans clashed; with plenty of casualties, with his uncle being among the dead. However, this was the first of many attempts that the Romans did to quell the tribe who wanted nothing to do with the Romans and their legions - wanting to be left alone. 


He had hardly become a man when the Romans had attacked again, though this time taking hostages and slaves as they went. Caturix had been captured and taken away by the Legions, returned to Rome when they returned from their march as one of their trophies - he was not sure if any of his other family had been taken as well. Being young and preconceptions of the public would force him into a life as an entertainer - a gladiator with the false promise of earning his life back should he serve a number of years.

Here he finds himself under the tutelage of a veteran gladiatorix, another captor of the Romans and a Briton. She had taught him his tools which he would need for survival - informing him that he would need to change should he want to survive.

Caturix was young when he had taken his first life, watching as the blood drained out onto the sand as the roars of the crowd erupted in the stadium. His eyes were fixated on the body as he returned to safety as the body was dragged away.

YOUNG ADULT [ 68-75 AD ]

It would not stop, a continuous cycle of fighting and surviving. Whilst there had been many Roman women who would send messages for him, Caturix did not bother much with them. For he wished only to go home - to see his mother, father and siblings whom he did not know remained alive or dead.

When he had fought, and lost his ear, he thought it was it - that he would be dead and his servitude would cease to be. 

However, the medicus had only pushed him out back into the arena; earless but none the less deadly. 

Caturix had been noticed by a wealthy family, brought to their ludus and exchanged hands. His time as a gladiator had finished, but his life as a slave to their house had only begun. He knew very little of the Roman nature, of the way that he needed to be outside of the arena; for them and other slaves slowly brought him into the fold - to show him that a gentler touch was needed.


Though, fighting was ingrained into him now.

Too late.

They had made him one of the bodyguards of their home, entrusted with their safety and their childrens. However, slowly, Caturix was returning to how he once had been - whilst cynical and crude about how the Romans treated many of them, he enjoyed learning something new - enjoyed the way that he had more freedom without the feeling that he might one day not be able to do anything he wished.

Each night he would look up to the stars, wondering where his family were; whether they were scattered among Rome suffering the same fate or whether they had managed to escape to return to the tribe.


    Faustus | GMT | PM/Discord


Edited by Faustus
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