Roman Gladiator Pirates Versus The Nazi Serpentmen of Tomorrow

[CivCube]

The days had grown shorter than usual for the Roman Gladiator Pirates. Their ranks, once upon a time a teeming mass of orgasmic glory, were now down to a paltry five thousand.
Their ships continued to plunder foreign shores, of course. The trademark “thousands ‘eads at the mast” were still a perilous omen to all those who thought they were safe. In recent years the grisly shish-ka-bobs expanded in diversity; the still-covered faces of ninjas were now impaled as well. Alas, that age was a golden age, and it ended five months ago. The Battle of Roma Tacticturna did not go well….

Gladius could now see the advancing ships on the horizon. Could one call them ships? He was not sure. There were no sails on these vessels, nor any oars to be seen. Instead, there were a thousand fires coming from behind each one, possibly chasing the lumbering things onward.
He and his fellow men could only watch and wait. Yes…that was all. Besides standing in formation, what else could be done for honor and glory? Ahh, Jupiter on High, what would Ye have us do? Arr! He gritted his teeth in a grimace of frustration. Those ships on the horizon surely had tens times as much firepower. And what did the Roman Gladiator Pirates have? Nothing but their weapons and a few pregnant lionesses…hardly a match for the Nazi Serpentmen of Tomorrow.

And now Gladius lay in a cell of his own failures. He clutched the bars and pulled back with a scream. He tossed the skull of his deceased comrade, and it violently held on to the bars before falling apart into powder. These things had a magic of their own! If his Nazi Serpentmen captors were to be believed, they were from a kingdom far removed from time and space. Time and space…did not register to Gladius, who only had a taste for the True Coliseum of Life. Whence he came did not matter, nor did where he went. If there was battle to be had, he was happy.
Unfortunately, there was no bloodshed of any sort happening right now. Gladius had tried cutting himself, but stopped due to a feeling of rebellious depression he had not felt since meeting a vagabond in his youth.
His eye patch felt a tad scratchy. Gladius knew he could not count on it. After all, the mystical powers inherent within him could hold on to physical trappings for so long.
“Oy! You!” said a voice from outside. Gladius peered through the bars, careful not to touch them. He saw a reptilian face sneering back at him, its tongue flicking on Gladius’ nose every minute or so.
“What do you want of me, Nat-si Serpent?” the Roman Gladiator Pirate inquired.
“The consssequensssseesss of your capture will ssssoon be apparent to thee, Gladiator Pirate of Rome,” the snakelike man replied. “Your future liesss in your natural habitat. It will, I think, be to your liking. If not, then I apologissse for the inconvenience.”
“Oh? And what will that be?”
“Your Colissseum. Your battleground for sssurvival,” the Nazi Serpentman spat. “We will tessst you on each and every one of your characterisssticsss. If you die, ssso Jupiter’sss will be done.”
“And my comrades? What of them?”
The Nazi Serpentman only guffawed with evil and left him.

To be continued whenever I feel like it.