Pain started to become a common daily feeling. Six long and hard years of beatings, bruising and injury by wooden weapons was inflicted upon you. Your training was ruthless. Maruk assured that they were rough on you. You didn’t understand at first to why Maruk enforced such hard training, and that misunderstanding caused more hatred to grow in your heart… Until one dawn, you overheard Maruk speak with some other person.
“Why Maruk? Why do you consist with this ‘training’ on the beast? You should of by now thrown him in the ring to fight, and if he dies well poor on him.”
“Why? Why? Let me tell ye why damn why, because fer one, ye aren’t the one who paid five steel for him, two, we both know it's a rough crowd out there watchin and the Bloodath ain’t gettin’ any weaker,
so I want MY dragon fit and in top shape fer his first real match, and this is the best way. I don’t have him beaten with crafted wooden arms just fer the fun of it.”
Maruk paused, letting out a sigh before continuing;
“As hard it is on Shaol… It be the best way to toughen him up to train.”
The other man replied with annoyance,
“So then why all the special treatment eh? The food rations, the freedom of being loose without any chains, and all the benefits you give him?”
The man laughed.
“Oh Maruk, you act as if you ACTUALLY CARE FOR THE BEAST!”
Seconds later you heard Maruk speak harsher than he ever heard before.
“And how about then I place YE out in the arena ring, who has no training, against one of the Bloodath eh?! Then feed yer corpse to my dragon! It be mine own choice how I train and raise Shaol, and ye have bloody damn no right to tell ME the provided care I give him is wrong! Now, be off with ya, before I DO throw you in the pit!”
You couldn’t believe all you heard that dawn four years ago. Maruk? Caring?! It was a complete shock to you…but it DID explain many a thing… And thus ever since that dawn, at the date 2E 358 4 2D, You started to adapt himself to shift the view on the whole training process you are being forced upon. In the very beginning of your training, when you were but a yearling, it all started with the man in plated armor. True, that dawn you got the daylights thrashed out of you, though over short time you learned to try to fight back, so you could avoid the pain. The humans only wore armor because how weak the humans flesh is; as you have personally tasted and felt it before.
When you did achieve you first victory in training, it was a huge moment of triumph for you; having lunged at the weapon to bite at the wood, gripping it in your maw and thrashing with your head to tear it out of the attacker’s hands, disarming him. That triumph was short lived though. After you disarmed them, the training session was ended or switched to a different human. You had to learn over the years to become dependent on your growing attributes, such as your reflex and agility, while slowly gaining in strength and endurance. The humans in combat though… were unlike anything you could ever manage. You had to learn how to gain advantage over them, which was nowhere near an easy task, nor achieved yet. They were skilled, who could stand on two hinds, and had flexibility unmatchable by you with body maneuverability. After slowly proving yourself to adapting to skill, new wooden weapons were introduced; round and hard. After a few encounters with the maces, it was learned fast; blunt weapons hurt.
It was the day... Your training has come to an end... And that the real test was about to begin. Your first real death match.
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