Bitter Prison of the northern Mountains [Training/Private]

Garret had been arrested by Acius, the lieutenant and current leader of their operations in Zou territory. He was now sitting in chain cuffs inside of a carriage with Acius and two other guards.

Acius had confiscated his wand.

"As I said earlier, by order of the Emperor of Zou, you are to be transported to the northern prison, hidden deep within the mountains." Acius explained to Garret, for the second time. Garret simply nodded. "You realize this is due to failing in your mission to keep the diplomat Li Cao alive. It's a life sentence, unfortunately." Acius placed his hand on Garret's shoulder, squeezing.

"I'll do what I can on my side of things in order to make sure things run smoothly for you, and we'll see if we can't get the Emperor to reconsider." He meant the reports that he had given to Acius. He had reported his 'failure' to protect Li Cao, in addition to the results of what he had found in Li Cao's tent. It wasn't enough to fully implicate the man, there needed to be real proof. But Garret hadn't had the time to look deep enough into the situation to bring that to light. Only enough to find their whereabouts.

"Azix should be promoted in my place." Garret said, speaking as if his position as a prisoner had no baring on his authority. "He can use my home as a place to stay, if he would like to. I did this for..." Garret allowed the sentence to trail off, not quite feeling comfortable with what he may have said. "Anyways, make sure he understands the gravity of what I told you of."

From there, the rest of the trip was fairly simple. Garret was secretly traded off to another group who were traveling to the the mountains to provide a small amount of provisions, as well as send him as a prisoner to the stone prison...


It was cold, almost bone chilling cold. Garret couldn't recall his spells being anywhere near this biting; as if the ones that he had created were just the tip of the iceberg. The cold was so bad, it had even gotten through the furs that they were all covered in from head to toe. Garret endured the pain. The stinging feeling in his ears was a constant reminder of how terrible the cold was in the mountains.

The door suddenly opened and they kicked him out. The teamsters began unloading the cargo from the caravan of goods that was brought, and Garret's arms were linked with by two guards on each side of him. They moved quickly, dragging Garret as he struggled to step through the snowy pathway to the gates. The structure was big, for it being hidden. And made of stone in such a way that Garret's engineering experience made him wonder if it was not done by magic. The men knocked on a side door, which was opened by an armored man clad with furs.

Seeing the two, the man stepped aside and allowed them in. The two guards walked inside, leading Garret with them, before shoving him forward. Garret stumbled forward, falling to the ground. "Fresh meat." The armored man stated, knowing that Garret was a new prisoner. "Crime?"

"Failure to protect a diplomat of the Zou nation." One of the guards spoke up, informing the jailer as Garret stood up. "He's been sentenced for life."

The jailer laughed. "There hasn't been a man who has left for the past eighteen years. Everyone here has a life sentence, unofficially." He took a look over at Garret and nodded. "You'll learn what it means to live here soon enough. For now, we've got some special entertainment for you. Or, rather, for the Sakimoto brothers. Move ahead."

Garret was still freezing cold, but was forced to move onward and away from the welcoming fire that was in first room. They moved out, through a series of halls and to a wooden door with an arched doorway. The armored jailer knocked on the door. "Fresh meat!" He yelled.

The door opened to reveal a pair of men whom had preceded a foul stench. Garret stared at the two, who looked exactly alike, as the each turned to one side to allow a way into the room. The jailer placed his boot on Garret's back and pushed him forward, into the room. Again, Garret stumbled, but this time managed to keep his footing.

The door closed behind him, and Garret took a look around the room. Were he not so cold and already pale, Garret would have lost several shades. "This is..."

"A torture chamber, and our greatest pleasure." One of the men, behind him and to the right, had said in a very conversational tone. "You will find yourself here quite often in the future, I hope. Your body looks like it will be a great canvas to work on."

Garret struggled against his restraints. He did not like where this was going at all. He heard a shuffle behind him, and as he turned around he saw a thick piece of wood coming right at him and knocking him out...

When Garret came to he was without all but his trousers. Parts of his body still felt numb from the cold. His lips were cracked, he felt sore. Where am I? He had forgotten where he was from just a moment before. He opened his eyes, though it was an effort as his eyelids felt heavy.

"He's coming to, brother." A voice. Strange, the voice sounded like one I have recently heard... Garret groaned as a pounding headache thumped inside his skull. "Ah, beautiful, let's begin with the lash, just to warm things up."

That's right! The torture chamber! Garret had enough time for that thought before he felt a line of pain sear his back. The crack of the whip was quite audible, and the pain cleared his mind of a headache. Garret nearly cried out, but bit back and endured. He took quick stock of where he was; center of the room, dangling from the roof by iron chains. His feet were not touching the floor.

"Good. He resists it. It isn't nearly as fun when you don't take care to raise the screams as loving children before letting them loose." The other brother spoke this time, chuckling darkly.

Two consecutive lashes struck Garret's back. While they did not tear into his flesh, they certainly hurt quite a bit. Garret still held out, holding his breath between the whips hitting his back. The both of the brothers were hitting him.

"Ah yes, I think it's time to move on. Haru, would you like the pleasure of setting him up on the bench?" The first of the brothers asked.

"How kind of you, Yuki." Haru smiled as Yuki moved over to a spot on the wall that locked the chain in place. Lowering it down, Garret soon found himself on his knees, gasping. Before he knew what was happening, they had pushed him to a table and locked his hands in a strange device that kept his joints from moving.

"Now, brother, roll the dice. What does fate say we do?" Haru was smiling to Yuki, watching as Yuki picked up a pair of six sided dice. The number two appeared on both.

"Ooooo." Haru was disappointed with the results. "That's only one finger for each hand. Looks like he's lucky, today."

Yuki took a pair of calipers from the table and allowed Garret to get a look at them. He took up a chair opposite of Garret and began speaking, in an impassioned tone. "These are specially made, you see. All you have to do is put this end on your finger, and twist this here and... Well, you'll shortly see."

The tool went around his index finger, and Garret began sweating. He knew what it was they were about to do. The pain shot through his body as the device slowly tore Garret's fingernail back. "Aaaaarrrrrhh!" He screamed the entire time they worked on him, slowly, ever so slowly peeling back his fingernail and exposing the raw flesh beneath it. It felt like his finger had it's own heartbeat as it throbbed, the slightest of breezes causing unbearable pain.

"Now, Haru, wasn't that a beautiful scream? I believe it's your turn, yes? It's only fair, one for each of us." Yuki passed the pair of calipers over to Haru, who took it with much glee and began his work on the same finger of the other hand.

Again, Garret cried out. The nail tore gruesomely. This time, it was not as clean as the last and began bleeding.

"Ah, it's bleeding." Haru said, as if concerned. The concern was entirely facetious. "We'll have to disinfect these fingers of his..." Haru grabbed a bottle of yellowish looking liquid and poured it over Garret's fingers.

A searing pain crossed through him, as if a knife had entered his bloodstream and traveled to his heart and then his brain. Again, Garret screamed. As more was poured, he could feel a granulated movement across the raw skin, which sent its own set of knife-like spikes of pain through him.

"Oh. Oh my. It looks like somebody accidentally put our Salt-Lemon juice where we normally keep the disinfectant..." A devilish grin appeared on Haru's face as he looked over to Yuki. "Yuuukiiiii." He said, in a falsely accusatory voice. "Shame on you."



"Oh my, Haru, I don't know what you mean." Yuki pulled out a dagger and walked over to the fire. "We ran out of disinfectant years ago, remember? Now we have our own home-brew. And you can't forget, best way to stop bleeding is to sear!" Yuki took a piece of wood from the fire and held his knife up to it as he walked back to the table. "Now, time for a little bit of healing, yes?"

Before Yuki could settle himself opposite of Garret, Garret threw up on the ground between his legs. The bile came first and was quickly followed by his stomach churning up whatever water was in his system.

"Oh, you made a mess of yourself. Well, that's to be expected." Yuki smiled as he spoke, pressing the red-hot blade of the dagger onto Garret's raw fingers. A sizzling was heard, and Garret cried out again. He felt like he was loosing consciousness, and didn't know how much longer he would last.

"Brother, let's work on his body a little bit more." Haru gently took the knife from Yuki and began carving into Garret's flesh, expertly peeling away skin without making life-threatening wounds. The searing pain of the blade instantly cauterized the wounds. Garret began screaming again as the blade made several expertly placed wounds on his body. All was going dark. He couldn't hold on any longer. "Awww, he's going out now. Well, we can hope to expect more from him next time..."

No... Next time... Garret hoped, passing out in blissful darkness.

"... Hey kid, looks like you're coming to. They did a real number on you. How are you feeling?" It came to him as a cloudy voice.

He groaned, opened his eyes. An old man sat across from him on a hard looking bed. Garret felt soar, his body ached and his fingers tingled. That's right. I was tortured. Where am I?



As Garret looked around, anger began to rise within him. It was a bare cell. The walls and floor were stone, with one of the directions being a series of metal bars that went into the floor and into the ceiling. A door made of metal bars kept him from freely moving out of the cell.

Inside the cell Garret noted that there was a toilet, though no privacy. They had a washing station, as well, which surprised him. The beds themselves were hard beds, uncomfortable to sleep on, though they had fur covers. Garret gingerly stepped out of his bed, though became dizzy. His hatred was slowly growing and he nearly growled to the elderly man. "Where am I? How long have I been here?" Hate began to fill Garret, not simply at what had happened to him, but at how things were. Black rukh began to form about him.

The old man stood up quickly and rushed to Garret, slapping him in the face before Garret even realized what happened. He was shocked. His anger disappeared completely. The man hadn't simply moved quickly to hit Garret; there was no intention within that man's body. Garret was unable to even read the slightest hint that the old man had any intention of moving when he had.

And still, the man acted as if nothing had happened and fluidly moved back to his bed. "Rule number one," The old man said, "No brooding allowed. While you were out for these past two days, I took care of you. You are in the Stone Prison of Zou, an icy fortress hidden in the mountains north of Reim."

Garret knew that much, though he supposed he must be in a cell at this point. "So, when do they kill me?" Garret was hoping it was sooner, rather than later. No man could withstand torture as what he felt for any length of time.

The old man looked to him and cocked his head in one direction. "You should be taken care of so that you don't die."

I hoped that wouldn't be the case. A sinking feeling hit Garret as he heard the last thing he had ever wanted to hear.

"This place is where all of the people exiled from Zou, or anybody they want to disappear in general, go to. Political enemies, rivals in business interests, missing diplomats. Some of these people are actual criminals as well, though. Heh." The old man laughed, as if amused at the thought of criminals being held in the cell.

"Which are you?" Garret asked, sizing the old man up. The man was bald, and had the wrinkles of age on his face. On a closer look, the muscles on the man's body were wiry, but still well defined. He had moved very fluidly earlier, it almost reminded Garret of the flowing water of the river back home. Ha. So long since I've been in Zou, I've started calling that riverside house 'home'.

"Ho ho ho ho. I'm simply an old man. Call me Hasan." Hasan continued, without missing a beat. "This place has a fairly cruel judicial proxy. He is a man that takes great pleasure in watching two individuals fight. Everyone who isn't able to fight gets thrown to the Sakimoto brothers. Those two, of course, you are familiar with."  

Garret grunted, thinking back on them. His anger was about to rise again, but the jailer from before came by. "Alright, scum, it's lunch time." He began unlocking doors one by one. There were several other guards out and about who were all herding the prisoners towards one destination...

...They arrived in a moderately sized room. Stone was the architect's item of choice, and Garret felt the cold floor through the things they called 'shoes'. He was roughly herded into a line of prisoners as they went to get their meal. Garret grabbed the tray and slid it down the line. While he did so, he took a look at the others in the area.

Some of the men were large, their muscles as enormous as the ones he had seen on the Fanalis he had once known, named Manius. Others were small, but bore the scars of battle-worn veterans. And there were a few who looked broken. Lifeless individuals who didn't seem to know why they were still alive. Garret felt a strangely dark feeling from them that resonated with him ever so slightly.

The man behind him bumped into him as he walked past. Garret realized he was holding up the line and hurriedly moved to take a seat. As he sat down, another man took a seat next to him. "Hey, newbie. It's general practice to let the veterans here eat your share on the first week." The man smiled, though the smile did not reach his eyes.

Before Garret could say anything, Hasan came by and took a seat opposite of the other man. "Hey, boy, eat up. You'll need it. Ho ho ho ho." The old man was oddly cheery, even in such an environment. Garret looked back to the other side, but the other man had gotten up and walked away, grumbling.

Looking down to the portions that he was given, Garret saw mashed potatoes and beans and... bugs crawling about. Garret's stomach churned again, but the old man laughed again. "Worry not about the bugs, boy. They're harmless. Extra meat that you're going to need, if you want to learn how to fight and get out of the Sakimoto sessions."

Garret's head snapped towards Hasan when he mentioned there was a way to avoid the torture sessions. Anything would be better than that. Garret took a spoonful of the mixture and hesitated only briefly before consuming the mix. As he ate, he realized how hungry he truly was and began scarfing down the food, taking minimal time to chew. He took a drink of the water that was given to him and threw a sidelong glance to Hasan. "Why are you helping me, old man?"

Hasan looked over to Garret. "Well, we're in the same cell, is there any reason I need other than that? Ho ho ho ho."

The answer sent a shiver down Garret's back, as a memory surfaced of when he once spoke to Azix. "... even worse when the lives of my cell members are endangered..." Garret continued to eat in silence as he mulled over what he was going through. He had hope that he would be able to get out of the torturing.


When that was done, the guards allowed the prisoners to wander around in a large empty room. Some of the prisoners sat down and talked to each other, some formed groups and hung out in circles around different parts of the room. Hasan stuck closely to Garret. "Don't walk too far from me, boy."

Garret followed Hasan's instructions. He had no idea what might be possible in this room. "That group over there are the Yellow Devils. They'll pick on the new guys and take their food, and aren't afraid of cornering you and harming you if you don't follow their instructions." Garret saw the man who had demanded his food earlier within that group.

"And those gentlemen over there are called 'The Forsaken'. They don't call themselves that." The men and women Garret had seen earlier that looked dejected and lifeless all gathered in a corner, simply staring outwards. "They're the ones who were never able to adapt and participate in the Gladiator trials. And those," Hasan nodded to a new group of men approaching the Forsaken, "They call themselves 'The Manifest'. They believe themselves to be superior to everyone else and, as you will soon see, will harass those they think they can get away with harassing."

Garret followed Hasan as he walked and listened to him talk. He watched as the Manifest began attacking and harassing the Forsaken. The Forsaken did nothing to retaliate, and seemed not to care. Garret realized that Hasan and himself were dangerously close to this group. Hasan laughed. "Ho ho ho ho, looks like you lot are enjoying yourself." Garret was worried; these men easily outnumbered them, what was that man thinking?

Opposite of what he believed would happen the Manifest took one look at Hasan before walking away in a hurried manner. The Forsaken said no words of thanks, though that did not surprise Garret. He had a taste of what they were feeling. If anything, perhaps one of them was hoping to be killed. Garret turned to see who else was in the room, but as he did so he thought he saw something dark, perhaps like a butterfly, fly across the edge of his vision. He turned back quickly, but didn't see a thing.

Hasan shook his head and seemed to stare at something beyond what Garret could see. Simply murmuring 'A pity...' Hasan turned and walked away. Some time passed as they were idling around the room, Hasan telling Garret of the different groups and loners in the room.

Gradually guards began to filter into the room. "Alright scum, it's time to run."

"Stick next to me, boy." Hasan grabbed Garret's arm and they began to jog in a counter-clockwise motion. "This is to help keep the gladiator-types fit for fighting. It's good exercise." The rest of the prisoners seemed to give Hasan a decent amount of space.

"Why do they avoid you?" Garret said, between breaths from his jogging.

"Ho ho ho ho. Boy, when you are as old as I am, you get respect for being an elder. They say respect your elders, correct? Ho ho ho ho." Garret was having trouble breathing, but Hasan was able to laugh in an exaggerated manner. Who is this old man?

Garret continued jogging throughout the exercise. He was quickly becoming exhausted, however. Slowing down, Hasan looked at Garret with a smile. "Boy, stay still." They both stopped in place and the prisoners jogged around them. A serious look crossed Hasan's face. "Hooooooo." Hasan took a deep breath and let it out as his arms tensed up. They then became a fluid blur and Garret felt something poke his body several times. Pain flared up in several parts of his body from where he was tortured before, but were soon drowned out by a strange energy that overcame his body. He felt more than able to jog; he felt like he could run laps around the interior.

"Wha... What did you do?" Garret was stunned, the feeling was very strange.

Hasan grabbed him and they continued running again. "Ho ho ho ho, I allowed your blood to flow better. It was acting very sluggish." They continued to run.

Garret felt the energy flowing through him, and felt like it was taking the energy from himself. He wanted to run faster, to release this new found source of energy and see the extent of its use, but Hasan kept him from moving any faster than the pace they were on. Bored, Garret wanted to add something else to what they were doing, so he began to look around the room. Many of the other prisoners were also staring at him, the one many who was running side-by-side with Hasan. As his gaze passed over the other prisoners, they averted their own gazes as if pretending they had never looked in the first place.

The guards called out to the prisoners that it was time for a water break and everyone began to walk. They shuffled out of the room and back to the cafeteria. Many of the prisoners were panting and sweating, though there were a few that were obviously used to it and drank the water at their own leisure.

Garret was burning up, his body consuming the energy. The water break was soon over and they went straight back into the running in the next room. Several times Hasan and garret had passed the group known as the Forsaken, who were simply walking. They aren't even trying anymore. Garret shook his head, still full of energy. After some time had passed they stopped and were sent back to their cells to cool down after one last drink.


OOC:
Str Training 518/2000

When they arrived back in the cell, Garret nearly collapsed on the bed. There was no longer that strange rush of energy within his body anymore. He began thinking back on that group, the Forsaken, and apprehension began to take root in his heart.

"Ho ho ho ho." His thoughts were interrupted by Hasan's laugh. "Rule number one, no brooding allowed." Hasan qouted what he had said earlier, insisting on Garret's obedience to this rule. He looked over to Hasan who was sitting cross legged. He recognized the Lotus position from people he had seen in Zou. It was famous for being a meditative stance.

"Who are you, old man?" Garret repeated that question again, but was ignored by Hasan.

"Now, follow my directions and sit cross-legged like myself. We're going to deal with that brooding nature of yours that you have." Hasan smiled; it reached his eyes, as if he were teaching a son of his a family tradition.

Garret sighed and followed Hasan's instructions. The man was strange, but he was Garret's only chance at getting out of the torture process. And besides, he had done that strange thing to Garret's body which had given him that extra push of energy in order to continue running. What was that? Garret shook his head and looked to Hasan. "What would you like me to do next?"

"Now, close your eyes partway and breath deeply. Allow the air to go all the way down to the bottom of your gut." Garret continued to follow Hasan's instructions and slowed his breathing down, filling his lungs and consciously working to fill the air down to his belly.

"Good, good. You are a fast learner. This will clear your mind and allow your mind to float freely and understand the deeper truths of this world. Ho ho ho ho." The signature laugh of Hasan proceeded his instructions. "Now, think of somebody you know who has suffered and may still be suffering. Imagine that person, and imagine yourself. Tell him or her 'I wish you a life free of stress and full of happiness.'"

Garret nearly sputtered, not caring a bit for that sentimental fondness. However, he remembered that this was his ticket to the gladiator fights instead of the the torture room. Somebody who has suffered... Garret tried to think of the people he had met, and considered them individually before his mind settled to Azix. Sighing, Garret began the exercise.

"This will settle your mind and spirit, purifying it and hopefully removing that brooding nature of yours." Hasan sounded concerned as he said that last part. "But that is still ultimately up to you. I think you can do it, though. You're a promising youngster. Ho ho ho ho." Hasan paused briefly, looking Garret over.

After what seemed to Garret to be hours, Hasan stopped him. "That's enough of that thought exercise. Get some sleep for tomorrow."

He was still sore, and welcomed the sleep as a rejuvenation of the mind and body.

OOC: Int Training 506/2000 words

"Hey, boy, wake up." Somebody was shaking Garret, who swatted the hand away. "Why you... Ho ho ho ho. Rule number two, listen to my instructions." A cold cup of water splashed against Garret's face, and he sprung up in bed. Garret glared at the old man. "You're too young to need beauty sleep. Now get up and lets start our training."

Garret groaned, still feeling somewhat sore. He was surprised that his wounds were healing as fast as they were, though. He had gone through a lot in the past few days. "What is it I need to do?" He asked, tentatively hoping it wouldn't be anything too exhausting. The meditation would be a welcome exercise.

"Ho ho ho ho. I bet you were hoping you could meditate. Ho ho ho ho." Hasan laughed several times, though kept it quiet. Garret knew it was very early in the morning, but had no idea just how early it exactly was. "You will begin with pushups. I'll teach you the many different kinds."

Garret groaned, but lay down upon his stomach. Hasan had him begin with the pushups he had known of, where his hands were set shoulder length apart and he simply pushed his body up off of the ground. Hasan spoke orders "1, 2, 1, 2, 1, 2, 1, 2..." Repeating them over and over until Garret couldn't move anymore. "Come, try harder." Garret continued to push, but he failed to lift himself fully off of the ground. Collapsing to the ground in exhaustion, Garret breathed heavily. "Good, good. Now, lay down on your back."

Garret followed those orders as well, laying down. Hasan knelt over Garret and, once again, the man's arms and hands became a blur as Garret felt energy flow into his body. "Put your arms above your head, hands laying flat on the top of your head and elbows pointed in." As he was providing the directions, Hasan's hands helped to move things in the position he wanted them to be in. "Good, now sit up without moving anything else. It's time for situps. 1, 2, 3, 4, 3, 2, 1." Each time Hassan said a number, Garret was to move a certain amount up or down, depending on the number Hasan said.

Garret didn't get exhausted as quickly as he had while doing the pushups, but it eventually came as he was working on more and more situps. The sweat from his brow began to get into his eyes, and Garret blinked it off.

"Breath deeply, boy. You must breath to exercise. If you are out of breath, you will be unable to do anything in a fight. Most normal fights do not last long enough for that to be important, but you will not be participating in some simple fight." Hasan continued to provide coaching to Garret through his exercises. They switched back and forth between the pushups and the situps until it came time for the morning protocol.

Doors began opening, and the jailer came up to their cell. "Old man Hasan, you teaching the newbie the ropes? After the last one got himself killed, I'm surprised." The jailer chuckled and continued on to the other cells. "Shower time, boys. Get to it!"

Garret followed Hasan...


OOC:
Str Training 518+529=1047/2000

... The 'shower' room was quite crowded, though it looked like they would be going in groups based on cell numbers. The time came for Garret and Hasan to enter. Towel wrapped around his waist, Garret took a look about the room. There were drainage pipes in the floor that Garret knew must have led somewhere outside the facility, but were far too small for any thought of escaping. There were also several buckets on the floor, as well as stone chairs to sit on.

The room itself was very steamy; a fire was going under a giant metal pot, where water was being heated. There were buckets and washcloths sitting near each stone seat, two stone seats nearby each other for each cell that had been called in. Garret paused and spoke to Hasan about a strange observation he had seen. "I have noticed that hygiene is treated with the utmost importance here. Why's that?"

Hasan nodded as he began to wash his arms and chest. "This is a prison, true, and there may be quite a few prisons out there where they don't care about your living conditions, but remember who this prison has been built for. Political enemies and others that Zou want to particularly suffer. Everyone dying from a contagious disease is far too light a punishment, it seems." Shrugging, Hasan turned his back to Garret. "Mind getting my back for me?"

It was something they often did where Garret was from, but it had been a while since he had actually been in a facility with others. Garret acquiesced and the favor was returned.



Once they were finished, they were corralled back to their cells. Garret continued to follow Hasan's training instructions, though this time they were using the bars from the jail cell. "Put your hands shoulder length apart on these bars up here," Hasan instructed, moving Garret's hands to the appropriate place. "Palms facing you. Now pull yourself up."

Garret's muscles felt great after the steamed bath, but he was still sore from the prior day. Still, if it were to assist him in avoiding the torture room, he would do anything he could in order to continue. Pulling on that determination, Garret began to pull himself upward.

"Get your chin over your hand height." Hasan never stopped providing encouragement, between saying "Come on, another one." and "Just one more, you can do it." all the way throughout the training. Garret continued his efforts, pulling himself up and dropping back down.

"No, no. Control your descent." Hasan instructed. "It is much better if you lower yourself down slowly."

Garret continued on with his instructions. Soon, his body was covered in sweat as the exercise was quite exhaustive. His hands became slippery before he finally fell from the bar, no longer able to hold on.

"Good, good. Your progress should be enough at this rate. We just have to keep up the hard work."

The training continued like this for the next week, alternating days where different things were done. Garret learned various forms of push ups, including ones where pulled himself forward with his hands while doing pushups, as well as arching pushups where his body flowed forward and backwards while simultaneously pushing himself up from the ground and lowering himself down to the ground. Hasan had called them spider-pushups and Helio-pushups. Garret was also taught various forms of sit ups in this time. Ones where his legs were in the air, as well as ones where he cycled the reach of his elbows to the opposite knee.

The variations kept it interesting, and Garret applied himself with fervor towards the training. He was determined to reach for as much strength as he could in order to be considered for fighting in the Coliseum. He knew that he could just as easily get hurt there, but at least at that point he would be able to defend himself and fight back. A much more favorable circumstance than being chained up and tortured.

A week passed, and Garret was developing some visible muscle. Some of the other prisoners began to avoid him, and he heard whispers of how strange he was. Garret didn't understand; didn't realize that it was unnatural to develop muscles in such a fast manner. Whatever Hasan was doing to him when striking him and energizing his body was more than simply making it easier for his blood to flow...

OOC:
Str Training Word Count 1047+470=1570

... As Garret was resting from his latest workout the amored jailer appeared. "Alright, newbie, the Sakimoto brothers are ready for you again."

A pit of worry began to form within his stomach as Garret stood up and followed the jailer. If he were to have to endure their attention again... Well, hopefully it wouldn't come to that. "As it's your second time there, the Judicial Proxy wants to inspect you and see if you're fit for other things." The man laughed. "I wouldn't put my money on it, though. You're far too weak."

Garret continued to follow the man down the series of hallways until the reached the door. He was led into the room which had three people awaiting his arrival within it. Garret was familiar with Yuki and Haru, but there was a third man in the room that he was unfamiliar with. This man stood tall, perhaps 190 cm (6'2"ft) and had eyes that were small enough to look like they were shut. He wore a very traditional fabric that reminded Garret strongly of Zou; the traditional clothing that was so difficult to come by in the west. This man, Garret figured, must be the Judicial Proxy.

"As you may have surmised, I am the Judicial Proxy for Zou in Reim. I am honoring you with my presence today in order to decide whether or not I might find your presence in the Coliseum... Entertaining." The man was obviously young, but already sinking himself into debauchery. "My staff here tells me that you have quite the weak constitution. So, lets take a look at you." The man seemed somewhat bored, as if not expecting anything from Garret. They stripped him down to his trousers and the proxy whistled.

He turned to the Sakimoto brothers, who seemed shocked at the sight. The jailer was taken aback slightly as well. "Haru, Yuki." The Proxy began, a threatening tone in his voice. "I realize that you two haven't had any newer subjects recently, and that you are not too fond of the ones you currently have, but that gives you no room to lie to me."

The Proxy walked around Garret, looking him over. "This is not the build of some weakling. It's the body of a man who has seen a fight or two." The muscles were not extremely well defined, yet they were visible enough for the Proxy to make comment on them.

"I swear, sir, he wasn't like this a week and a half ago!" Haru sputtered after going red in the face. "I... I can't explain."

The Proxy narrowed his already small eyes, the only real cue being the creases that appeared near on the sides, as he turned to the Jailer. "Who is this man's Cell mate?"

The Jailer paused, hesitating. "Old Man Hasan."

The Proxy's eyes widened, and you could clearly see the whites of them as a crazed expression of delight appeared on his face. "Oh! Most excellent! His previous cell mate was like this man too, was he not? Ha! We might actually see a few deaths this time around! Alright. Approved for the Colliseum."

The Sakimoto brothers were about to say something in protest, but the Proxy shot them a warning glance. "I'll overlook this, this time. That old man has a way with training people. But don't think I'll think twice about what I've decided already." He turned to the jailer, in a jovial manner. "Make sure Hasan teaches the newbie the tools of the trade. Give him access to the training room with the wooden practice equipment."

As he passed Garret, he put a hand on his shoulder and whispered into his ear. "I expect great things from you." He walked away only leaving behind that enigmatic phrase.

"Well, I guess you're lucky, kid." The jailer sighed and shrugged as he led him out of the room. The stricken look on the Sakimoto brother's faces was the last Garret had seen of that room, and left him in a somewhat good mood, albeit also disquieted due to what everyone had been saying about the previous occupant of the cell he was in. What could it possibly be that had gotten the previous man killed?

Garret intended to ask Hasan about that, soon...

... Garret was brought back to the Cell that was holding Hasan in it. The old man smiled. "You're back early, and all in one piece. I take it things didn't go too badly?"

Garret shook his head and let out a sigh of relief. Before he could say anything else, the Jailer spoke up. "Alright, ladies, when you two are done kissing I've got instructions for you, Hasan. You're to take the newbie here to the training room and make sure he knows the basics of the coliseum fights." He paused, and when there was no immediate reaction from Hasan, he shouted. "Hop to it, scum!"

"Alright, alright. Let this old man get up first." Hasan slowly got to his feet and walked out of the cell that the Jailer had opened. Together, they walked through the halls and made their way to the training room.

When they arrived the Jailer said "Have fun. I'll be back to get you two when it's time for the midday meal." The door closed behind them and a clicking sound was heard as what Garret could only assume was a lock on the door.

Looking around, Garret saw a variety of things on the walls; light armors, wooden swords and shields. Spears, axes and glaives. There were all sorts of weaponry about. He looked to Hasan, who was staring at the room somewhat strangely, and recalled what was said earlier. "You know, people keep telling me about a man who used to share the same cell as you did and how he died... What, exactly, is that all about?" Garret began to wonder if, perhaps, Hasan was doing something to his body that would ultimately destroy it. And, perhaps, he was simply acting in a friendly manner this entire time.

"Now is not the time." Hasan said, tossing a sword at Garret's feet. "If you want to stay out of the Sakimoto brother's grasp, you need to focus on training while we are able to. If you displease the Proxy with your skill level, he'll toss you to the brothers as if you were table scraps being fed to a dog."

Garret frowned as he picked up the sword. Hasan was dodging his question; it wasn't that there wasn't merit to what he had said, but Garret had done it often enough to Azix that he knew what it was when he saw it.

When Garret had the wooden blade in hand, Hasan instructed him on the proper holds for it. He explained to Garret that while he had to have a sturdy grasp upon the hilt, a stiff wrist would keep him from utilizing the blade to it's best potential. He had to be dexterous in his handling. Hasan then began to explain the differences in blade types, and what kind of things Garret would have to take into account. Length, grip and strength used with these weapons could change drastically or not at all, depending on what they were. Hasan had Garret spend time defending from exaggerated attacks at first, but then shortening their exaggerations with each consecutive attack, forcing Garret to react faster and faster.

As they continued, Garret began to learn of the different types of things he could come to expect from swordplay. There wasn't a whole lot of depth that Garret was explained, as Hasan wanted him to simply learn to watch things at a high speed and react to things quickly. "You'll learn technique at a later time, but first you must learn what works for you." Hasan explained, when Garret had asked him why he wasn't learning anything that could defeat others in battle. "The best bet for beginners like yourself is to rely mostly on the weapon to do it's job, and just do your best not to stab yourself. Ho ho ho ho."

From swords, Hasan began to teach spears. Spears had a reach advantage on swords and were strictly better than them when considering equally talented individuals. However, depending on the situation, these things could change. Footing and situational factors played a lot into how combat worked. Garret was very well aware of this, though not in the subject of weapons and hand to hand fighting.

From there, Hasan had Garret try out the sword and shield as well, which Garret quickly favored. Depending on how he used it, he would be able to fight on even footing with a single spearmen. Between blocking and attacking, each hand had an opportunity to provide him an advantage in battle. Hasan taught Garret how to angle both blade and shield in order to shed an attack and divert it easier than simply taking the blow straight forward.

It was at this point that the door opened and the armored Jailer appeared. "Alright, time for the midday meal."

Putting away the equipment, Garret and Hasan left the room and went to lunch...

OOC:
Str Training 1570+637=2154/2000
D Tier Str Training Completed.

... They had finished lunch, and it was time for them to go through their exercises again. Garret began jogging with Hasan. He found that his stamina had greatly increased, and was able to keep up with the entire group. His breathing was steady, and he noted that he as able to breathe deeper and in a more controlled manner than before. Hasan laughed. "Ho ho ho ho. It looks like you're getting the hang of things. That's good. When you exercise, you need air in order to continue. Your lungs are able to distribute the air you breathe in a more efficient manner now. This is what they call 'training your stamina'."  

Garret was amazed at the difference in output he now had and continued to speak to Hasan as they ran. "So, what are the coliseum battles like, here?" He briefly recalled the coliseum from Reim's capital, however it was a very humane seeming system there. There were no longer battles to the death, though Garret heard that they had them there in the past.

"Well, they take place outside in a cleared out area at the center of the prison." Hasan began, his eyes gazing off ahead, recalling the details of the location. "It is very cold, though you are given some fur clothing in order to keep yourself warm. The fights are done with real weapons, and several guards stand near the walls and will attack you if you approach them."  Sighing, Hasan continued. "And the Proxy has offered to allow individuals to leave, should they kill 10 men while fighting in the coliseum."

Garret nearly stopped in his tracks while running, as that fact surprised him quite a bit. He looked around again at all the prisoners running around, and wondered if he could possibly get through ten of them in order to release himself. Ah, but it wouldn't restore his position within the Zou Empire; was it worth it? Would he simply be another runaway, to be cut down when another Zou recognized him? Garret focused on the running, continuing the exercise.

"Yes, I can see you are surprised. Anyone would be, with such strong individuals around. I would wonder why they are still here and not out and free." The thought hadn't crossed his mind, but when Garret looked around he definitely did see individuals that were particularly frightening in their appearance, and looked like they could hold themselves in a fight fairly easily. "You see, when I came here 20 years ago, there were a lot more deaths here. But during my first year of fighting, I managed to beat every single one of my opponents without taking their lives. Soon, deals were made, and there became an unspoken rule of the coliseum that the Proxy has grown to hate over these past 18 years. Ho ho ho ho." Hasan's amusement reached his eyes as he explained to Garret that once they figured they could continue to live another day if they agreed to not kill each other, it became an unspoken rule that while they would work their hardest to knock one another out, they would not kill their opponent. Should one decide to actually kill an opponent, they would become open game to all of the other prisoners. Many prisoners have wracked up some kills in this manner without having to deal with the retribution, and some even try to egg other prisoners on to take that step out of protection. "Listen, boy, you must never take the life of your opponent in a fight here. It will spell your ruin. Ho ho ho ho."

The group took the same water breaks they had the first time, though Garret felt like he could go for a longer amount of time. He found himself having the stamina to keep up with most of the others, at least for this long. There were quite a few who looked like they could easily continue far longer than Garret could ever hope to.

The prisoners were returned to their cells until it was time for supper...

OOC:
C Tier Str Training 678/2000

... Garret and Hasan were in their Cell when Garret asked a question. "You sure know a lot about fighting, and not just hand-to-hand, but all different kinds. Where are you from? Who are you?" Garret's need to know increased the more he learned from Hasan. It wasn't simply a matter of curiosity, it felt more along the lines of something he should actually be made aware of.

The old man sighed. "Fine, fine. If you must know, I am, was, a traveling Monk of an old order. I am originally from Heliohapt, but when I was much younger I had decided to travel the world and learn various truths." The old man became very animated, a sparkle showing in his eye. He seemed to relish telling stories, and it made Garret wonder why it took so long to get Hasan to speak. "When I was young, I traveled to many countries. Balbadd, Reim, the ice country to the north where the Imuchakk tribes live and I had even visited many of the nomadic tribes west of Zou."

Hasan occasionally spoke in hushed tones, pulling Garret closer into the story as any seasoned story teller would. "It was when I was in my 40s that I decided that it was time to start giving back to the world. I had learned all I could, and wanted to repay the world and help others out, regardless of their own personal feelings for the world." A sad look fell across his face. "Unfortunately, 20 years ago I found myself in the country of Zou. I was providing teachings on how one could live a fulfilling life. My teachings went against the doctrine of the Zou Emperor and, as you can see, I have found myself here ever since."

Garret frowned, confused. "Why are you still here? You could easily be back out there and following what you had decided to do for yourself."

"Ho ho ho ho. Don't you see it, boy? It was fate that brought me here. I am to help others here come to an understanding and learn to live with themselves. This is where I am needed most." Hasan was very pleased with the direction the conversation took, and didn't seem discomforted at all about being here.

Garret shook his head. "You don't think fate is a terrible thing? To have led you to such an unfortunate place, I... Anyone would curse such a fate. To go against that which has been decided for you; that would be something worth aiming for."

Hasan's eyes grew wide as he looked about, before settling down. "No, no. You're looking at it wrong, boy. You mustn't view fate in that way. Fate is more of a perfect prediction of the ripples of the free will that people exert. Fate is the ultimate knowledge of causality, and cannot be viewed unless as a whole." Hasan nodded to himself, as if praising himself for saying something wise.

Garret stared at him, curious. "Is that true? I suppose it makes sense..."

Hasan laughed. "Ho ho ho ho. Those are the findings of this wise old man. I could be wrong, but it does, as you say it, 'make sense.' It's important to find balance within yourself. Would you like me to teach you the martial arts of my order?"

Garret paused, if only briefly, before nodding. "No offense, old man, but I will be living longer than you. If I am to live without your assistance, I will need to be able to hold my own as you do."

Smiling, Hasan nodded. "This is correct. And you have already taken the positive steps towards reaching the correct balance of soul, mind and body. Our discussion today proves that. To obtain the true balance, however, you must reconcile with your past. You must learn to rely on your own strength to face the future, and find the strength to face what may come at you with your head held high. Do not cower before what others call Fate, and know that you will live your life with your own strength."

Those words resonated within Garret. The man certainly spoke in a way that changed Garret's view on life. No, he wasn't going to regret those he had killed, nor would he change his beliefs on how to go about solving problems. But how he viewed those problems was beginning to change.

"Now, sit in the lotus position and meditate. You are definitely feeling the correct state of mind... Don't open your eyes."

Garret followed the man's instructions, lowering his eyelids as he contemplated his life. Hasan was chanting some strange things the entire time, however it brought about a peaceful feeling around Garret.

Garret looked back to the beginning of his life, from the time he was living with his uncle. The man was an alcoholic, and an abusive one at that. He wondered how he could possibly reconcile with his past so easily. A flash of a memory came to Garret, from a different time; a more recent time. I wish you a life without suffering, and an ease of life. It was the mantra Hasan had Garret thinking while he had meditated previously. Garret wondered to himself what his uncle was going through, what his uncle was suffering, that caused him to act out in that manner? It felt strange, thinking in this manner. Almost alien. The man was a member of a rebellion that slowly became rooted out until the end, when a large number of guards were able to arrest many of the members of that group.

He could certainly understand what could have drove his uncle to be such an abusive alcoholic. But that did not mean Garret forgave the man. He understood the whys, and the hows, and that he was still able to experience the honor of working for the good of the Zou Empire.

The thought of what his uncle had done later on was another thing in his life. It had formed a problem that he still lived with today. The things his uncle had done were demeaning and vile. Garret did not want to think much on that point in his life, but took the steps in his mind to accept that it was a part of his past.

As this all took place, unbeknownst to him, the black rukh that lived within him was slowly transforming into white rukh. The positive feeling that was emanating from Garret was the opposite of killing intent; it was a form of acceptance, and readiness. White Rukh were gathering about Garret, flying about. The old monk watched on, chanting his mantra with a wide smile on his face. Whether he could see the change that was taking place, why, no one could know, for the man simply smiled and continued to chant.

Garret was a Magician. He was beloved to the Rukh. And his connection with it only deepened as he continued to face his past and work his way towards the future.

An image appeared, once again, within his mind. It was of Manius and his Fiancee. Garret did not regret what he had done; it was necessary for his mission to do what was done. However, the hate for the man's better-seeming place in mind was certainly something he would need to remove. Garret had allowed weakness to appear as strength to him, and this had taken him down the wrong path. Garret accepted that, in life, there would be those who might seem to be in a better place than him. Should he want to reach such heights, he would do so through his own two hands, as he though he was doing in the past.

Most recently, he had been locked away in the prison and, much to his distaste, tortured until he had lost consciousness. Those two brothers, he would never forgive. How would he reconcile with that point in his life? Garret knew that he was now a stronger man than he was when he first met them. In part, it was the threat of their terrible treatment that had given Garret the drive and the desire to become stronger. The strength of Garret's conviction solidified. He knew that he would not be here, listening to this old monk on how to train himself, on how to become stronger.

Garret began to feel a strange flow. It was as wide as it was deep, endless and all-encompassing. He felt his place within it, and felt that very same flow within him. It swelled within his body, dancing to his actions and sending out its very own ripples, which interacted with the ripples of other flows, and made changes to the source of those flows as well.

The room was saturated with the feeling of peace and tranquility. It held the feelings of acceptance, and of readiness for the future. The white rukh danced wildly throughout the cell. Garret began to slowly pull himself from within his trance, having completely reconciled his past. As he pulled himself from the trance the rukh slowed down and began to disappear. When his eyes were fully opened, he was staring at the monk in a new light. He could feel a welling up of magoi from within him, and was amazed at what he had accomplished through the meditation.

The old man stopped chanting, and placed a hand on Garret shoulder. "Good. You have taken the steps necessary to tread down the path of the martial art I use, the River Styx School of Fighting."


OOC:
B-tier Int training completed, wordcount 506+1600=2106/2000 words.
Rukh Alignment Change: Black Rukh to White Rukh.

Though Hasan told Garret he would now learn the martial techniques of the River Styx style, he had instead been given more strengthening training. "You must relearn the basics. You may not be able to tell the difference, but a great change has taken place within you. Limiters have been removed, and you are in a tranquil state. Your physical self must be able to keep up with your spiritual self, after all. Ho ho ho ho."

Garret had just finished warming up when the jailer came by and opened up the cell. "Come, it's time for your first coliseum battle. If you kill ten opponents while fighting in the coliseum, your crimes are erased and you are set free. Remember this well when you step into the arena."

Garret looked at Hasan as he left, and Hasan simply nodded to Garret. Several individuals were also walking towards the coliseum. They must be some of the opponents I will be facing. Garret moved fluidly, almost similar to how Hasan moved. He did not notice it himself, but the tranquility about him gave off the feeling that he was prepared, and the slightest intention to harm him would be met with a raging current of strength. Those that had been witness to Hasan's fights recognized the movements and knew to be concerned.

The jailer explained to him that his match would be watched by the Proxy, and the Proxy would decide whether or not Garret was suited for staying in the coliseum group. Garret took this in stride, his tranquility was not shattered with such news. The jailer explained that if he attempted to run away from his opponent, and attempted to crowd the walls, the guards would attack him. However, if he was weaponless, and looking to pick a weapon up, the guards would not bother with him. The weapon layout would be around the walls, with a variety to chose from. Garret took in the instructions on where everything was and what would be cause for the guards to interfere.

There were two balconies around the courtyard, one of which held several of the prisoners. The Proxy would be watching from the highest balcony.

Garret donned the furs; boots, gloves, pants and shirts were all provided. They offered some protection from weapons, but the true protection they were there for was the cold. When Garret's name was called, he made his way through the door and out into the freezing environment of the mountain air. His breathing was creating heat smoke in the air, as his exhaling was much warmer. Garret walked forward, sizing up his opponent and looking at the weapons around the arena. He frowned as he got closer to his opponent; it was the individual who had attempted to steal from him when he first came. Yellow Devils, was it? Garret thought to himself, wondering whether or not there would be a grudge.

"I'm going to kill you, kid." He said, as they walked close to each other. "You're the 10th." He grinned, attempting to taunt Garret.

Garret looked at the man and considered him. He figured the man was telling the truth, and it would be instrumental for Garret to defend himself with all his might while not killing the brute. It wasn't a death sentence until after you had killed somebody, and Garret didn't want to risk that. There was no risk for the brute.

The Proxy shouted the start of the match, causing both the Yellow Devil and Garret to rush towards their weapons of choice. Garret ran through the cold hard dirt; no snow was on the ground, as the inner courtyard was maintained specifically for these fights. Garret ran to where he saw a club and a shield, a safe choice for defending himself while being able to cause damage to his opponent. The handling of the club was a bit different than that of a sword, but their concepts were similar. Garret turned to see what the Yellow Devil was bringing to battle.

An axe.

Quite possibly the most penetrative of weapons the man could have picked, and a good counter to his shield. Garret began closing the distance between himself and the brute, working to enter his attack range so that he could counter with an attack of his own. When Garret was almost in, the brute ran forward with a roar while lifting his axe high. Garret took a deep breath and exhaled. His movements felt different, as if he were water itself. The axe came swinging down as Garret pushed off the ground and to the right. His shield had simultaneously been raised, and angled, in order to glance the axe past his leg, where he would have otherwise been hit on the downswing. As Garret's feet found hold in the ground, his club came crushing down on the man's kneecap.

The blow was not enough to severely harm the man, and only caused some simple bruises. Garret back-stepped a few times and readied himself for the next exchange. The Yellow Devil snarled in anger as he came back swinging his axe in a horizontal arc. Garret leaned forward in a fluid motion and slammed his club in the same spot as he had previously. Grunting, the Yellow Devil smiled as if victorious. His axe changed directions, faster than Garret would have thought possible, and aimed right for where he had ducked to; Garret had been led on by the more experienced gladiator.

The axe moved at high speeds straight towards Garret's head, who hadn't the time to move out of the way fast enough. As the axe was about to make contact, it instead encountered a shimmering shield that took the brunt of the blow, though shattered and pushed the axe up and off into the air. Beloved of the Rukh, Garret's Borg took a blow stronger than that he had ever thought it could have prior to his fight today. Both the Yellow Devil and Garret were surprised, though Garret recovered faster. Using that window of time, Garret sent a blow to the brute's gut, knocking the wind out of him. He brought his club to the skull of the man as the man fell to his knees. The force of the blow knocked the man to the ground, and he did not move.

Garret looked down, slightly worried for his own life; had he accidentally struck the man too hard? No, the man was still breathing. He could see the steam coming from the brute's mouth. Garret looked up to the Proxy as he raised his club in the air, a sign of victory. Several of the prisoners clapped, applauding his win.

"Now, kill the man to take the step towards earning your freedom." The Proxy shouted down to Garret.

Garret simply shook his head and dropped the club and shield to the ground, walking away from the unconscious brute.

The Proxy's reaction wasn't visible, but if Garret understood him well enough he had a feeling that the Proxy was disappointed.

Garret was escorted out of the coliseum by some guards as the rest of the guards dragged the Yellow Devil out of the arena. He was then handed over to the Jailer. "You've got the luck of the devil, boy. The Proxy was pleased enough at your skill that he's allowed you to continue to fight in the coliseum."

OOC:
C Tier Strength Training Word Count: 678+1240=1918/2000

Garret was once again in the cell with Hasan. He nodded to Hasan. "I did it. I managed to win without killing my opponent."

"Ho ho ho ho. Of course. To have the power to kill your opponent is to be strong, but to have the power to leave your opponent alive is to be stronger. Ho ho ho ho." The old man continued to philosophize, but Garret understood what Hasan was getting at.

He knew that the old man didn't mean something so simple as 'it was wrong to kill', but something more along the lines of 'to have the strength to hold back and still emerge victorious means that you have overwhelmed your opponent completely.' Though it was not the exact same meaning, it was definitely the feeling that was conveyed from it. Garret had considered for a while about his place in life, and about how he would continue living. Perhaps he would be stuck here forever. In which case, it didn't really hurt too much to be a bit more open with the old man.

"Old man..." Garret began, looking up to the ceiling of their cell. Hasan recognized something from Garret's voice, and immediately paid attention. "Many people call me Garret. I have another name, from my home in Zou, but that is almost as if it were another life..."

Hasan sat up and watched Garret intently as he began to speak to the old monk.

"You see, I work... Worked, I guess. With the intelligence agency in Reim. I led operations that were based in the capitol. It was pivotal to our success." He shook his head and looked back over to Hasan. "And in the middle of it all are these fools who are too busy trying to trip themselves up to realize that they are going to cause our entire system to crash down on itself." He chuckled, amused at the thought of a person who would intentionally allow themselves to be defeated.

"I do not regret my past, Hasan." Garret spoke the monk's name for the first time. It was a strange feeling, the name rolling across his tongue. "In fact, knowing what I do now, and being who I am today, I would do the very same things I did in the past." He paused and looked to the old man who was contemplating his words. "Are you still willing to teach me the River Styx style?"

Hasan was still regarding him with a serious look, however a smile crept into his eyes before he could no longer hold in his laugh. "Ho ho ho ho. Boy, do you think I am here to weigh your soul? Your actions will be yours, no matter what. I have already taught you the correct path to take, and no matter what type of decision you make, so long as you take responsibility for them and you don't run away from your problems, you will be more than worthy of learning the River Styx style." Hasan shook his head again. "Now get some sleep.... Garret. We'll be waking up early in the morning for more training. Ho ho ho ho."

Garret awoke to being shook by Hasan. Groaning, he got up. "This early?" Garret was no longer exhausted by the day-to-day of his exercises, as well as the matches that he had to occasionally do in the coliseum, but he still disliked waking up so early in the morning.

"It's time for you to learn the basics of our system." Hasan's voice, as always, was cheerful no matter what time of the day it was. "We will begin by the Calm Surface form. It is a series of techniques that emulate the calm surface of a river." Hasan began to teach Garret several techniques which were ran together. Slowly, step by step, Garret began to memorize the movements being taught.

Once he had the movements down, he frowned. "Old man, this doesn't seem like it would be effective in a fight."

"Ho ho ho ho. How observant. You are correct; in your land, this is what they would call a 'kata'. A form is simply a series of techniques and movements to get you used to moving your body in certain ways to obtain certain results. It is not meant to be used in a fight. As you study it deeper, you will learn more from it." Hasan continued to watch Garret perform the kata, providing feedback on things Garret should be doing.

"No, boy, thrust yourself forward. Align everything in a straight line and flow with your body. It will provide your weight behind your attack. That small fist will have the force of a 70kg hit behind it at the higher levels of this technique. Now focus on your footwork!"

Time passed and Garret continued to learn more and more forms from the old man; Raging Undercurrents, Flowing Rock Destruction, Silent Rapids, Cut the Stream, Island of Tranquility. During his teachings, Garret gained an understanding of the fighting style. He could tell they were very close to how water moved, and was linked closely to the redirection of power and the flow of battle.

One afternoon Hasan spoke to Garret. "To tell you the truth, boy, I'm from a secret monastic order."

Garret was surprised at the sudden explanation from Hasan. The man never offered information on the past, and stuck mostly to their training when speaking. He asked what brought Hasan to speak of such things.

"Ho ho ho ho. You told me about yourself. It is my turn to respond in kind. As I've told you before, I chose to work to provide back to those who need it. To give back is what a Monk desires most when he has reached a level that he believes he can teach at." Hasan instructed Garret to continue his training, and offered insight here and there when Garret did not move through the form correctly.

"You see, I have within my head the knowledge and secrets of an order called The Second Sons of Anubis." Had it been the Garret from a month back, he would have forgotten where he was in the kata. As it were, he simply hesitated on one of his techniques before continuing his training. "Ho ho ho, you paused. The name means something to you? I'm surprised to see that the Zou have reached so far as to learn of us."

Garret shook his head as he finished the kata. "No, it is a group I know only in passing comment. There is nothing concrete that I know about them."

"My brothers were a scholarly group who preserved knowledge. I was somewhat hotheaded in my youth and insisted on learning the secret techniques and using them. Since then, I was cast out and searched the world for truths. Ho ho ho ho." Hasan's life was a long one, and Garret knew the man likely had many more stories to tell, but would only do so in time.

Which Garret knew could quite possibly be never. Shrugging, he amused himself at the thought that fate conspired to bring the monk, a man who was from the Second Sons of Anubis, and himself; a man who operated with that very name as the cover of their organization.

OOC:
C Tier Strength Training Complete: Word count 1918+692=2610/2000.

OOC: Total word count to this point: 11979
BIC:

Garret was in the middle of going through several Forms of the River Styx Style while Hasan watched, commenting on his movements here and there. The jailer approached, as he always did, and knocked on the bars to the cell. "Old man, the Proxy says it's your turn to fight in the coliseum." The jailer looked over to Garret. "You come, too. Proxy asked for you."

Garret was confused, but followed the man anyways. There was little choice in the matter. When they came to the room, they changed into the furs. Garret walked towards the waiting area, moving after Hasan, but the jailer stopped him. "No, you're coming this way." Garret paused, wondering if the jailer wanted him to go to the next floor's balcony, so as to watch the fights. Again, he followed the jailer. As they passed the first balcony's entrance, Garret understood where they were going. To the top balcony, where the Proxy was at.

The door was opened; a fire was going on both the right and left sides, keeping the balcony fairly warm even in such harsh weather. Garret was pushed forward and made to stand next to the Proxy, with the armored jailer behind him.

"Iatsu." The Proxy greeted Garret, using his real name. "I'm pleased to see you so successful in your fights, though it pains me to not see you finish any of your opponents off. You could be free of your shackles here."

Garret simply stood there, watching a fight take place from down below. The two were evenly matched, and it looked like it could go on for some time.

"Ah, I know of the deal that the prisoners have made with each other. It makes things frightfully boring. That they prefer their lives over freedom. They need to add some spice to their life." As the Proxy spoke one of the fighters managed to get the upper hand and slammed the side of the blade into the other man, who stumbled.

"Sometimes, I want to give out special offers to my charges. Offers that anyone would take on. And so, I decided to offer something special today; anyone who can kill our most veteran charge may be cleared of all crimes and released in good faith with all of their status, wherever they came from, fully restored." The Proxy watched idly as the victor emerged from below. Of course, the other man was still living. The Proxy sighed.

"Well, speak of the man and here he is." The proxy stood as the new contestants entered. It was one of the Yellow Devils as well as... The old man. Monk Hasan. Is that whom the Proxy speaks of? Garret glanced over to the Proxy as the announcement was made; any who could kill Hasan would be provided immediate release and a restoration of their previous status prior to arrest.

Had Garret not trained against the man so often, he would have been unsettled with the new developments. The old man, however, was more than a match for his opponent. Garret watched as the old man simply stood still when the match began. His opponent rushed for a spear and went to attack Hasan. As if watching the results of one of his Water Manipulation Technique's spells, Garret saw the old man flow around the length of the spear before striking several points on the man's body. Garret had learned a bit about the technique; it could either release or lock an individual's potential. It's stunning properties were particularly useful for fights such as these.

Garret was always impressed when he fought against the old man. It felt very much like fighting against a current in the water without magic. Garret knew the fight wouldn't last long, and waited to see Hasan leave the arena, and the next fighters come in. Hasan walked towards the door, but the guards kept him from leaving. Garret moved to the edge and grasped the ledge. "What are they doing? He finished his fight." There was never a time they had to fight consecutively.

The Proxy laughed. "I'm aware of the old man's strength. He impressed me five years ago when I first took over this position, and he impresses me today. My progenitor was a man of similar tastes, though he always found the old man distasteful. I can appreciate his artwork, though. It's unfortunate that he circulated the idea of fighting nonlethal combat instead of lethal."

Garret believed he understood what the proxy wanted; short term, for a thorn in his side to be removed. But long term? Without the influence of Hasan, there would be a power vacuum in the prison. Somebody would rise to try to take his spot, and there would be many casualties in the process. Frowning, Garret could only watch from where he was.

Hasan took down fighter after fighter, with what looked to be effortless ease. However, Garret could see that as time passed, Hasan grew more and more tired. There was no longer any rest period between when a new combatant would be let in while the old combatant was taken out; there were a pile of unconscious bodies simply lying on the floor.

Hasan seemed to be exhausted, and had difficulty standing as his most recent opponent fell to the ground unconscious. Garret waited to see the next opponent appear, but one never came.

"Ah, how amazing. He managed to defeat the entire lineup today." The Proxy smiled. "Well, I suppose he deserves a rest. You're his cell mate, go down there and help him back."

Garret was dismissed. He was escorted to the floor level, where he supported Hasan back to his cell. There, he made sure Hasan was able to recover some of his lost stamina. The old man was hacking and coughing, his lungs were having a hard time keeping up. Soon after he was lying in his bed, the old man's condition stabilized. Garret kept careful watch over him.

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Exit