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This is a roleplay where we are Spartans at the hot gates defending against endless hordes of Xerses. Choose your designation number and name. For example, I'm 117, Mathias. Here we go...

Metallus was scanning the hot gates. It was a particularly hot day, and he could feel his adrenaline spike. The anticipation of the fight was high. "Right now, a million men are at the end of that road..." It sounded a lot, but they were trained for this mission. "Mathias, where's the squad leader?"

Metallus looks straight up at the sky and murmurs a prayer of a great win. He pumped a fist into the air, confidence of the expected win. But a nervousness also loomed at the foremost of his mind. "We will fight...we will win. But will we live?"

A noise echoed throughout the valley, purging all other sounds. "Everyone get into position! We will stand and fight for Sparta!" Leonidas yelled, "All who dare oppose us Spartans will be killed on the spot!" A thunder clapped the ground abruptly, and rain poured down. The hot day became cool, a calming entity that vanishes at the first sight of the action. The storm.

"I am ready when you are brother! For I am always ready!" shouted Metallus. He ran towards the formation, stepping in line, and he awaited the first sign of combat.

Thunder. They neared ever closer, and as they did, the rain fell ever so rougher. But he waited, as many Spartans did, for them to come, for them to waste their energy running through the valley towards them. The first Persian came, and Metallus struck him low, slicing his leg clean off. He couldn't take the time to finish the man off, as three more replaced him. He defended an attack with his shield, fended off another attack with his sword, and head-butted the third in his guts. The third went soaring to the ground, and Metallus turned his attention to the remaining two. He kicked one back and slit the throat of the other. More came, and he stabbed another, slammed his shield into one, twisted the neck of one, and cut one completely in half.

He struck another one. All around, the spartans were devastating the Persian army. They were falling like rabbits set up on some twisted experimentation. Metallus glared menacingly into the eyes of some mad Persian. He stood, seven foot tall, with a giant axe. He bore no armor, but it appeared as if he was confident in his strength alone. A swiped the ax down, a devious smile stained on his face, the sight of destruction finally caused by him. "Come at me Spartans! Taste my cold metal!" He kicked a Spartan away, almost getting cut down by the man's sword. Metallus hopped towards the man, dodging his fist. Metallus sliced the man's neck as he pulled out the ax. The giant went hurtling backwards on his butt, his ax soaring through the air and making contact with Metallus. A short yelp emitted from Metallus's lungs as he saw the fresh blood run down his arm. He had his back turned to the dead man. "Mathias, I have struck him dead, the giant lay down, dead, in no better condition then these other Persian weaklings." He couldn't see it. He couldn't see the giant Persian stand, worse for wear, but still alive. He was determined to at least take one Spartan to hell with him.

Metallus, shocked by Mathias's order, did as he was told, rolling forward. A sudden crashing sound made by the sweep of an ax came next. If Metallus had stayed for a milisecond longer, he'd have been sliced in half by the giant he thought he slayed. "You!" He cried, "How did you survive? the attack!?" The monster, of course, said nothing, could say nothing. He was suffocating as is. The only thing that kept him alive was the signals that kept his heart pumping through his blood. His brain, perhaps, was suffocating as well. His strength was fading, would halt after the final sweep of his ax, his dying motion to kill. Metallus would not have that. He jumped into the fray of dripping blood and dirt and bodies and metal being heaved into the air by massive arms. He lashed out at the giant, stabbing his heart with his shining sword. The giant collapsed suddenly, unexpectant of the striking weapon. Metallus backed up, allowed him to slump over fully, and he turned to look at the other end of the valley, the second wave of Persians coming at them on horses. "Another wave of them is coming in, on horses!" He shouted to the others, warning them of the attack.