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source http://www.ffxivcore.com/topic/6191-next-generation-gladiators/?s=dfd0f394d4286a3249294c0580e7aaf3
'Interesting, there's quite large turn out. Plenty of hot-blooded men yearning for a battlefield, no doubt... how annoying.'
Surveying the field of new recruits, the hyur woman couldn't help but close her emerald-tinted eyes in a silent sigh; She had better things to do than baby-sit the hopefuls. Unfortunately, it was necessary to ensure that the Gladiator guild survived, and someone had to do it. Still... that didn't help her frustration.
'Might as well get this over with'
Tossing her long ebon hair over her shoulder in order to leave the Gladiators emblem on her tanned cloak un-covered, she made her way to some higher ground for a better perspective. Upon reaching it, she calmly removed her sword and shield from their resting places on her back and hip, and slammed them against each other. The resulting clang gave her the attention of the field, and she put her armaments away promptly. Taking a deep breath, she addressed her charges in a tone that was somewhat casual, but also seemed to resonate command, "So, I hear you all want to be Gladiators. The guild is quite pleased at your enthusiasm, but do you think you have what it takes?"
This would be the part where the crowd was 'supposed' to shout out, as if trying to deafen her with the strength of their resolve. However, as was her usual experience with newcomers, only the Miqo'te and a select few others let their cries be heard. The rest stared at her, dumbfounded, as if waiting for the punch line. Stupid men. When she spoke again, her voice was laced with ire.
"I see some of you were expecting a different kind of person to be teaching you today. You seem disappointed. Let me make this perfectly clear: I don't care what you think of me. I don't care about your past. I don't even care why you're here. However, if you can't take something seriously just because it doesn't 'seem' dangerous, that foolishness will get you killed some day. Now, I ask you again; Do you think you have what it takes?"
This time the crowd shouted in its entirety. Much better. Now to actually start the real speech.
"Good to see you adapt well, maybe there's hope for you yet." She remarked with a hint of sarcasm. "Unfortunately, the truth of the matter is: Most of you don't have what it takes. Many of you have come here with fleeting confidence, weak resolve, or a simple lack of desire. From my perspective, it would be optimistic to think even a third of you will come to bear the Gladiator's emblem. It would be optimistic to think even half of those chosen will come to be anything resembling a respectable fighter. It would also be optimistic to think that all of you will make it through this training alive, let alone unharmed." She paused a moment, letting it sink in.
"I am not optimistic."
Casting her eyes over the field, as if scanning it, she added in a softer tone, "For those of you who can't accept those odds, now is the time to go."
Now the crowd began to fidget, and many murmured amongst themselves. This would be the scare tactic; it was all true, to an extent, but it was nonetheless a great way to weed out the weak of heart. Unfortunately, it usually only worked on half of them, if that.
Sure enough, after a few moments, a few of the less-determined decided to leave. Followed shortly afterwords by another handful. This continued on until roughly a fifth of the group was gone. By the end, the remainder of the crowd was either murmuring something about cowards, or looking up at her expectantly. She decided to address the murmurers first.
"Do not disdain those that have left. They are not cowards; They were simply able to admit their own lack of resolve. They placed value on their own lives instead of merely their pride, and they were not willing to risk it in a futile attempt to impress you, or me. They understand that there are things more important than the reverence of their peers. That in and of itself should show that they are worthy of respect. If not as a Gladiator, as an individual. You'd do best to take note of that."
It was obvious a few of the murmurers were far from pleased with being lectured, but in the very least, they did quiet down. They probably wouldn't last long; in prior experiences, the ones who spat ire at those who left tend to be the ones who had just thrown away everything to try and impress people they didn't even know. They would come to regret that choice. On the other hand, a select few among the crowd could be seen nodding in silent approval. She smiled, ever-so-slightly, and tried to make a quick mental note of their faces. They might actually make it. Letting the slight smile fall from her features, she picked up where she left off.
"Moving on. Many of you are probably aware of what Gladiators are called, for those of who are not, we are often referred to as 'The Best Defense.' We take great pride in that title, and hope to keep it for many years to come." She pauses momentarily, sweeping her eyes over the crowd, implying that that hope would fall on their shoulders. "However, Gladiators have held onto that honor for many years now, so you may think it is an undisputed, unchangeable fact. It is not, and there are many other professions that are attempting to rob us of it."
She took another deep breath. long-winded speeches really didn't suit her. Unfortunately, this was the longest part. She once again closed her eyes in a silent sigh, and upon opening them, continued.
"So then, what is it the Gladiators do that make them the best? Well, to be the best at anything, you first have to have a fundamental understanding of what you're aiming to be the best at. In the Gladiators case, that is Defense. Now, what does it mean to defend, to protect? The most common interpretation would be trying to keep something safe, free from harm, and I'm sure that's the meaning many of you are familiar with. However, it is not the definition of the word that you must realize, but what it means."
Pulling out her shield, she grasps it in her hand and brings it to bear. "The shield best represents the resolve one must possess to defend something. A shield is used in battle to take the blows meant for its holder. If you wish to defend something, you must be its shield. You must be willing to shoulder any blow that might come upon it, no matter the cost. However, remember that a broken shield protects nothing, and there is no greater shame than to die without first ensuring your charge is free from harm." She narrows her eyes, glaring, "Even if you are mortally wounded, even if you can barely see, hear, or stand, as long as your precious thing isn't safe, you Will. Not. Die."
She plants the edge of her shield into the ground, making it stand upright. "Unfortunately, a shield alone will seldom carry you to victory. A shield alone is only a ward against harm, it does not end it."
Removing her longsword from it's resting place on her hip, she holds it before the crowd. "No, that is why we carry the sword." Planting the blade firmly beside the shield, she carries on, "The sword itself does not protect, the sword is meant only to destroy, but destruction and protection go hand-in-hand: While the shield will keep your charge out of harms way, the sword will put an end to that which would cause harm."
"It is for this reason that you must always remember that you cannot protect everything. There will be many times where you must be the cause of harm yourself. We're not training martyrs, we're training defenders. If you are unwilling to destroy, you are unfit to protect; If you cannot kill, you cannot truly save."
Looking over the field of hopefuls once more, she couldn't help but think about how much she wasn't looking forward to the days to come. She couldn't help but sigh, this time quite audibly, before speaking once more: Training these people was going to be a serious pain.
"That concludes the first half of my oration. Any questions?"
Asking for questions in the middle had been a mistake; many of their questions were either greedy inquiries about how much gil a Gladiator could hope to make, or brain-dead remarks about the other disciplines represented by guilds. The former was a disappointment, the latter was just irrelevant. Fortunately, there was at least one good question in the lot, or at least one that allowed her to carry on with the usual speech.
A small Lalafell, fully armored to the point of making their gender indistinguishable, made it's way to the front row and waved it's shield fitfully in the air to get her attention. She couldn't help but wonder if it was really a Lalafell or some child in disguise, but it was certainly dressed for the occasion. Anyway, it had a question, and was certainly the most eye-jarring of the bunch. She closed her eyes for a moment, and upon re-opening them, gestured toward it.
Ceasing to wave it's shield, the walking tin-can immediately opened it's visor, peering up at her with blue eyes large enough to make out at even at this distance. That's a Lalafell for you, though gender was still uncertain. Shortly after lifting it's visor, the lalafell spoke in a voice reminiscent of a young hyur boy, so male it was, "If we were to accept a job as a Gladiator, what would be expected of us?"
She could almost thank the stars for bringing the curious little guy here to end the torment of answering worthless questions. However, it wouldn't do well to act out that kind of scene while trying to assert authority over a mob of hot-blooded youths. Regardless, she did catch herself looking down on the Lalafell with a warm, thankful smile, though she erased it from her features in the blink of eye.
Casting her eyes over the sea of bodies once more, she carried on with the second half of the oration, "If you become a Gladiator of the guild, there will be many opportunities for you to accept jobs from those who require a Gladiator's assistance. These will commonly be placed upon a bulletin board within the guild itself, and the jobs you accept rely entirely upon your own will. That is, except in the rare cases that you may be personally asked for either by a client, and the guild accepted the request for you. In most cases, that would mean your client is the guild itself. The details of those jobs would be sent to you via mail, and they are not options, they are orders."
She paused for a moment, remembering the times she'd held those 'letters' in her hand, the most recent being, well... guess. The guild claimed that they picked instructors from a raffle, completely at random. But, considering how this was the third time in four years that she'd been chosen, that didn't seem to be the case. Oh, it was certainly aggravating, but there wasn't anything to do about it, not right now anyway.
"However, regardless of how you come to accept a job, you will be expected to carry it through in it's entirety; failure is not an option. If you wonder why that is, remember that you are not representing only yourself when you accept an assignment, but the entire guild as well. Your decisions would be viewed as our decisions, your successes would be seen as our successes, and your failures would be perceived as our failures. Keep that in mind."
Well, that was true, but in reality the guild didn't care too much about failed missions. It usually just meant you didn't get paid, really. The guild's reputation was quite sturdy, and it would take a failure of grand proportions to dent it, not that would ever be allowed to happen.
"Well then, I'm sure all of you have something to protect, something that you cannot afford to lose, and would risk everything, including death, to ensure its safety. For some of you, it is a person; A member of your family, a dear friend, or a lover. For others, it is a place; A home, a city, or a Kingdom. For the rest, it is pride. However, a Gladiator is not trained to protect merely one thing. A Gladiator is trained to be able to protect anything, regardless of personal feelings, to the best of their abilities."
They also usually ended up being trained to bar-tend like you wouldn't believe, but that was only if you frequented the local pub... the owner was rather eccentric.
"There will almost certainly be times where you must defend a person you yourself will wish to harm; people who will insult and disdain you no matter how many times you prove to be their salvation. Despite your sacrifices, these people will not thank you, but choose instead to curse your incompetence. In spite of that, you will still protect that vile, worthless, scum as if your world depended on it's safety." Letting small tendrils of bitter irony creep into her voice, she added, "It just might."
Well... sort of. There were plenty of stories of people purposely failing missions because of how terrible their clients were. Most of the time they were considered humorous, or in the very least met with a 'good riddance.' The guild actually posted some of the worst repeat offenders somewhere in the back, where only the more exalted members of the guild could read them. Often times they'd have captions such as 'The Beast has been slain!' or 'Tyrant brought to rest'. They were somewhat like trophies. Regardless, that wasn't something to tell just anyone.
"That concludes everything I feel you should know for now. So then, one more time: Do you think you have what it takes?"
The crowd shouted, but this time it was easy to detect that over half of the cries were sullen, forced. She couldn't help but let a wry smile show on her face. It would appear they got more than they bargained for.
When she spoke for the last time before the crowd that day, the playfully scornful sarcasm in her voice was palpable, "I see. Well, I suppose we'll meet again shortly, when the actual training begins."
Pulling her sword and shield out of the ground, the woman placed them back in their proper places on her person, and promptly walked down from her position. Shaking her head slowly, small tendrils of her long black hair fell back over her shoulders, covering the Gladiator mark on her cloak once more.
'Chances are, only half of them will show up for training. As always, everyone wants to be a hero, but seldom realize what it entails.'
She looked up at the sky, watching the clouds float carelessly across its expanses.
'Oh well, nothing I can do about it. Just means I'll have less to deal with later.'
At that, she faced forward once more, and began her short journey home.
'Interesting, there's quite large turn out. Plenty of hot-blooded men yearning for a battlefield, no doubt... how annoying.'
Surveying the field of new recruits, the hyur woman couldn't help but close her emerald-tinted eyes in a silent sigh; She had better things to do than baby-sit the hopefuls. Unfortunately, it was necessary to ensure that the Gladiator guild survived, and someone had to do it. Still... that didn't help her frustration.
'Might as well get this over with'
Tossing her long ebon hair over her shoulder in order to leave the Gladiators emblem on her tanned cloak un-covered, she made her way to some higher ground for a better perspective. Upon reaching it, she calmly removed her sword and shield from their resting places on her back and hip, and slammed them against each other. The resulting clang gave her the attention of the field, and she put her armaments away promptly. Taking a deep breath, she addressed her charges in a tone that was somewhat casual, but also seemed to resonate command, "So, I hear you all want to be Gladiators. The guild is quite pleased at your enthusiasm, but do you think you have what it takes?"
This would be the part where the crowd was 'supposed' to shout out, as if trying to deafen her with the strength of their resolve. However, as was her usual experience with newcomers, only the Miqo'te and a select few others let their cries be heard. The rest stared at her, dumbfounded, as if waiting for the punch line. Stupid men. When she spoke again, her voice was laced with ire.
"I see some of you were expecting a different kind of person to be teaching you today. You seem disappointed. Let me make this perfectly clear: I don't care what you think of me. I don't care about your past. I don't even care why you're here. However, if you can't take something seriously just because it doesn't 'seem' dangerous, that foolishness will get you killed some day. Now, I ask you again; Do you think you have what it takes?"
This time the crowd shouted in its entirety. Much better. Now to actually start the real speech.
"Good to see you adapt well, maybe there's hope for you yet." She remarked with a hint of sarcasm. "Unfortunately, the truth of the matter is: Most of you don't have what it takes. Many of you have come here with fleeting confidence, weak resolve, or a simple lack of desire. From my perspective, it would be optimistic to think even a third of you will come to bear the Gladiator's emblem. It would be optimistic to think even half of those chosen will come to be anything resembling a respectable fighter. It would also be optimistic to think that all of you will make it through this training alive, let alone unharmed." She paused a moment, letting it sink in.
"I am not optimistic."
Casting her eyes over the field, as if scanning it, she added in a softer tone, "For those of you who can't accept those odds, now is the time to go."
Now the crowd began to fidget, and many murmured amongst themselves. This would be the scare tactic; it was all true, to an extent, but it was nonetheless a great way to weed out the weak of heart. Unfortunately, it usually only worked on half of them, if that.
Sure enough, after a few moments, a few of the less-determined decided to leave. Followed shortly afterwords by another handful. This continued on until roughly a fifth of the group was gone. By the end, the remainder of the crowd was either murmuring something about cowards, or looking up at her expectantly. She decided to address the murmurers first.
"Do not disdain those that have left. They are not cowards; They were simply able to admit their own lack of resolve. They placed value on their own lives instead of merely their pride, and they were not willing to risk it in a futile attempt to impress you, or me. They understand that there are things more important than the reverence of their peers. That in and of itself should show that they are worthy of respect. If not as a Gladiator, as an individual. You'd do best to take note of that."
It was obvious a few of the murmurers were far from pleased with being lectured, but in the very least, they did quiet down. They probably wouldn't last long; in prior experiences, the ones who spat ire at those who left tend to be the ones who had just thrown away everything to try and impress people they didn't even know. They would come to regret that choice. On the other hand, a select few among the crowd could be seen nodding in silent approval. She smiled, ever-so-slightly, and tried to make a quick mental note of their faces. They might actually make it. Letting the slight smile fall from her features, she picked up where she left off.
"Moving on. Many of you are probably aware of what Gladiators are called, for those of who are not, we are often referred to as 'The Best Defense.' We take great pride in that title, and hope to keep it for many years to come." She pauses momentarily, sweeping her eyes over the crowd, implying that that hope would fall on their shoulders. "However, Gladiators have held onto that honor for many years now, so you may think it is an undisputed, unchangeable fact. It is not, and there are many other professions that are attempting to rob us of it."
She took another deep breath. long-winded speeches really didn't suit her. Unfortunately, this was the longest part. She once again closed her eyes in a silent sigh, and upon opening them, continued.
"So then, what is it the Gladiators do that make them the best? Well, to be the best at anything, you first have to have a fundamental understanding of what you're aiming to be the best at. In the Gladiators case, that is Defense. Now, what does it mean to defend, to protect? The most common interpretation would be trying to keep something safe, free from harm, and I'm sure that's the meaning many of you are familiar with. However, it is not the definition of the word that you must realize, but what it means."
Pulling out her shield, she grasps it in her hand and brings it to bear. "The shield best represents the resolve one must possess to defend something. A shield is used in battle to take the blows meant for its holder. If you wish to defend something, you must be its shield. You must be willing to shoulder any blow that might come upon it, no matter the cost. However, remember that a broken shield protects nothing, and there is no greater shame than to die without first ensuring your charge is free from harm." She narrows her eyes, glaring, "Even if you are mortally wounded, even if you can barely see, hear, or stand, as long as your precious thing isn't safe, you Will. Not. Die."
She plants the edge of her shield into the ground, making it stand upright. "Unfortunately, a shield alone will seldom carry you to victory. A shield alone is only a ward against harm, it does not end it."
Removing her longsword from it's resting place on her hip, she holds it before the crowd. "No, that is why we carry the sword." Planting the blade firmly beside the shield, she carries on, "The sword itself does not protect, the sword is meant only to destroy, but destruction and protection go hand-in-hand: While the shield will keep your charge out of harms way, the sword will put an end to that which would cause harm."
"It is for this reason that you must always remember that you cannot protect everything. There will be many times where you must be the cause of harm yourself. We're not training martyrs, we're training defenders. If you are unwilling to destroy, you are unfit to protect; If you cannot kill, you cannot truly save."
Looking over the field of hopefuls once more, she couldn't help but think about how much she wasn't looking forward to the days to come. She couldn't help but sigh, this time quite audibly, before speaking once more: Training these people was going to be a serious pain.
"That concludes the first half of my oration. Any questions?"
Asking for questions in the middle had been a mistake; many of their questions were either greedy inquiries about how much gil a Gladiator could hope to make, or brain-dead remarks about the other disciplines represented by guilds. The former was a disappointment, the latter was just irrelevant. Fortunately, there was at least one good question in the lot, or at least one that allowed her to carry on with the usual speech.
A small Lalafell, fully armored to the point of making their gender indistinguishable, made it's way to the front row and waved it's shield fitfully in the air to get her attention. She couldn't help but wonder if it was really a Lalafell or some child in disguise, but it was certainly dressed for the occasion. Anyway, it had a question, and was certainly the most eye-jarring of the bunch. She closed her eyes for a moment, and upon re-opening them, gestured toward it.
Ceasing to wave it's shield, the walking tin-can immediately opened it's visor, peering up at her with blue eyes large enough to make out at even at this distance. That's a Lalafell for you, though gender was still uncertain. Shortly after lifting it's visor, the lalafell spoke in a voice reminiscent of a young hyur boy, so male it was, "If we were to accept a job as a Gladiator, what would be expected of us?"
She could almost thank the stars for bringing the curious little guy here to end the torment of answering worthless questions. However, it wouldn't do well to act out that kind of scene while trying to assert authority over a mob of hot-blooded youths. Regardless, she did catch herself looking down on the Lalafell with a warm, thankful smile, though she erased it from her features in the blink of eye.
Casting her eyes over the sea of bodies once more, she carried on with the second half of the oration, "If you become a Gladiator of the guild, there will be many opportunities for you to accept jobs from those who require a Gladiator's assistance. These will commonly be placed upon a bulletin board within the guild itself, and the jobs you accept rely entirely upon your own will. That is, except in the rare cases that you may be personally asked for either by a client, and the guild accepted the request for you. In most cases, that would mean your client is the guild itself. The details of those jobs would be sent to you via mail, and they are not options, they are orders."
She paused for a moment, remembering the times she'd held those 'letters' in her hand, the most recent being, well... guess. The guild claimed that they picked instructors from a raffle, completely at random. But, considering how this was the third time in four years that she'd been chosen, that didn't seem to be the case. Oh, it was certainly aggravating, but there wasn't anything to do about it, not right now anyway.
"However, regardless of how you come to accept a job, you will be expected to carry it through in it's entirety; failure is not an option. If you wonder why that is, remember that you are not representing only yourself when you accept an assignment, but the entire guild as well. Your decisions would be viewed as our decisions, your successes would be seen as our successes, and your failures would be perceived as our failures. Keep that in mind."
Well, that was true, but in reality the guild didn't care too much about failed missions. It usually just meant you didn't get paid, really. The guild's reputation was quite sturdy, and it would take a failure of grand proportions to dent it, not that would ever be allowed to happen.
"Well then, I'm sure all of you have something to protect, something that you cannot afford to lose, and would risk everything, including death, to ensure its safety. For some of you, it is a person; A member of your family, a dear friend, or a lover. For others, it is a place; A home, a city, or a Kingdom. For the rest, it is pride. However, a Gladiator is not trained to protect merely one thing. A Gladiator is trained to be able to protect anything, regardless of personal feelings, to the best of their abilities."
They also usually ended up being trained to bar-tend like you wouldn't believe, but that was only if you frequented the local pub... the owner was rather eccentric.
"There will almost certainly be times where you must defend a person you yourself will wish to harm; people who will insult and disdain you no matter how many times you prove to be their salvation. Despite your sacrifices, these people will not thank you, but choose instead to curse your incompetence. In spite of that, you will still protect that vile, worthless, scum as if your world depended on it's safety." Letting small tendrils of bitter irony creep into her voice, she added, "It just might."
Well... sort of. There were plenty of stories of people purposely failing missions because of how terrible their clients were. Most of the time they were considered humorous, or in the very least met with a 'good riddance.' The guild actually posted some of the worst repeat offenders somewhere in the back, where only the more exalted members of the guild could read them. Often times they'd have captions such as 'The Beast has been slain!' or 'Tyrant brought to rest'. They were somewhat like trophies. Regardless, that wasn't something to tell just anyone.
"That concludes everything I feel you should know for now. So then, one more time: Do you think you have what it takes?"
The crowd shouted, but this time it was easy to detect that over half of the cries were sullen, forced. She couldn't help but let a wry smile show on her face. It would appear they got more than they bargained for.
When she spoke for the last time before the crowd that day, the playfully scornful sarcasm in her voice was palpable, "I see. Well, I suppose we'll meet again shortly, when the actual training begins."
Pulling her sword and shield out of the ground, the woman placed them back in their proper places on her person, and promptly walked down from her position. Shaking her head slowly, small tendrils of her long black hair fell back over her shoulders, covering the Gladiator mark on her cloak once more.
'Chances are, only half of them will show up for training. As always, everyone wants to be a hero, but seldom realize what it entails.'
She looked up at the sky, watching the clouds float carelessly across its expanses.
'Oh well, nothing I can do about it. Just means I'll have less to deal with later.'
At that, she faced forward once more, and began her short journey home.
