About “Spartacus: House of Ashur” in a few words:

Spartacus: House of Ashur reimagines the Spartacus universe in a bold “what if” scenario: what if Ashur didn’t die on Mount Vesuvius and instead climbed the brutal ladder of Roman power? He ends up running the gladiator school he once served, rubbing elbows with Rome’s elite and sparking chaos with a fierce new gladiatrix named Achillia at his side. It’s action, intrigue, and lush historical drama all wrapped up in swordplay and swagger.

Meet the characters from Spartacus: House of Ashur

Ashur

Ashur is that deliciously slimy schemer who you love to hate — tiny frame, huge ambitions, and a smile that never quite reaches his eyes. He plots like it’s a sport and somehow keeps landing on his feet, which is impressive and terrifying, honestly. Also weirdly insecure about something small (hair? scars? his handwriting?) and he hoards tiny trinkets for reasons he’ll never explain. He’ll swear loyalty one minute and be bargaining with your enemy the next, but hey, he’s entertaining and clever and that’s his whole vibe.

Korris

Korris is the silent, stubborn rock of the place — big, blunt, a man of few words who prefers to let his actions do the talking (and those actions are usually very loud). He’s loyal in a way that feels almost old-fashioned, like a dog with better armor, and he gets extremely annoyed by over-complication. Has this secret soft spot for dumb jokes and, I swear, he might read poetry sometimes? He’s gruff but also embarrassingly sentimental about one tiny thing (a coin? a cobble? I can’t remember) which makes him weirdly endearing.

Achillia

Achillia is absolute ice and fire at the same time — precise, commanding, with a presence that makes people tidy up their lives just by looking at her. She runs things with an iron hand but has these utterly inexplicable moments of softness, especially around certain people (don’t ask who, it’ll ruin the mystery). Loves perfumes and sharp shoes and despises inefficiency, yet will linger over a stupidly sentimental trinket for hours if she’s in a mood. She’s ruthless when she needs to be, but there’s this whisper of protectiveness that makes her unexpectedly complicated.

Cossutia

Cossutia feels like silk and gossip wrapped into one person — elegant, fashionable, constantly doing small math about people (who’s useful, who’s not) and definitely keeping a mental list. She’s refined but also nosy in the cutest possible way, like she’ll ask about your childhood and judge your table manners simultaneously. Can be surprisingly brave when pushed, although she’ll complain about it afterward and demand tea. Slight tendency to be contradictory about freedom vs comfort — loves luxury but gets restless when life is too predictable.

Hilara

Hilara is the loud, vivacious heartbeat of the room — a dancer, a singer, a loud laugh-maker who’s impossible to ignore and even harder to pin down. She flirts like it’s a competitive sport and then disappears to read philosophy, honestly, she’s all over the place in the best way. Fiercely loyal to her friends but also petty as hell when crossed (expect dramatic revenge, probably involving a hat). She claims she doesn’t care about status but will absolutely judge your outfit under her breath.

Messia

Messia has this weirdly calming presence, like warm bread and bad advice in equal measure — gentle, practical, quietly sharp. She seems unflappable, the person people go to when everything’s a mess, but she’s also got a stubborn streak that will explode in the most unexpected moments. Tends to collect half-finished projects and small, ridiculous superstitions (carrying a pebble, knocking on wood, whispering to plants — maybe one of those). She’s empathetic without being saccharine, which makes her both a secret weapon and someone you’d happily share a crust of bread with.