What Does It Mean To Be Strong...? [Strength Training|Tahl]

As long as Tahl had been in the Golden City of Reim, his eyes always crossed the site of the coliseum. The splendors of the crowd cheering would always cause him to grin like a fool. He remembered when his father once told him a tale of a time he went into the coliseum and watched a match. Feeling excited after watching such a spectacle, he asked if he could train in the barracks. Despite numerous times he was told know, he always found himself back at them; begging and pleading to train for just a few days. His father was finally allowed in, but only if he would take on a challenge when his time was up.

His father agreed and began to train. It was here, as he would always tell Tahl and his brother, that he learned how to box. He trained just along with the other gladiators; sleeping and training day after day. When his final day arrived, he found himself face to face in a makeshift ring. Tahl smirked as he continued the tale that his father told him; how he went on for sixteen rounds; how he lost a few teeth; his dramatic comeback in the end. It was there that he gained the first member of his caravan and his best friend. The memory faded as Tahl stepped towards the coliseum, stepping down the stairs that led into the barracks.

Opening the hard door, his nose was filled with the scent of intense training. His eyes stung from the salt of sweat that hung in the air and the odd smell of sweet oil mixed with sweat. He grinned as the door closed behind him; a few men looking over at him. Tahl glanced in their direction and gave a small wave before making his way past them, looking over at the gear. His pointed ears caught the small whispers of someone speaking about him, but he ignored them. Currently, he was riddled with excitement. He was were his father would train and found it only fit to do the same his father had done.

Flinging off the cloak; his upper body clothin; and his sword; Tahl grabbed a pair of mitts that hung up just above some other equipment. He fastened them on as best as he could and placed his fists close to his face, just like his father had shown him. Closing his eyes and blocking out any sound around him, Tahl began to imagine an opponent. He smirked and began to bob and weave, throwing out strikes whenever he saw an opportunity in his shadow boxing. He continued this on for six hours, coming to a stop only to break.

After catching his breath, Tahl hopped into a large makeshift ring where someone else was hanging around. Without exchanging words, they only had to glance before enganging in an intense sparring match. Tahl barely managed to dodge the heavy and quick blows his opponent threw; only rarely punching now and again. After four long rounds, they finally decided to call it quits; fistbumping each other with a smrik. As Tahl stepped out of the ring, gathered his belongings and left from the barracks. He stopped a cart and bought himself a few bananas, looking back to the coliseum where his father, and now he, had trained with a smirk.

[500+/500]
Trainin Complete