Maron woke up feeling better rested than he had for a while, locked in a cell, his clothes were worn and almost in tatters from the journey, he smelt, he hadn't cleaned himself in weeks. Soon he was tooken out by a short chubby man to clean himself and to change into a plain common piece of clothing under the watch of armed men. The language of the empire was foreign to him, but the short man was able to talk to him in his native language. That was going to be one of the changes, he was going to put his old home behind him and learn the language of the empire. After he was cleaned and dressed he was sent back to his cell with a modest meal.
Later that day Maron was pulled out of the cell once again and was paraded in front of a crowd. The short man was yelling out some words at a crowd and pointed at Maron a few times. Members of the crowd gave some responses and eventually he was returned to his cell, he was sold. Another man later came, he looked like a soldier, tall with arms that clearly saw training, he along with two guards took Maron as well as a few other slaves from the auction and brought them through the streets to a rather large building in a central part of the city. It was one of the most imposing buildings in the city, Maron estimated it to be ten times as tall as the walls of the now dead town he came from, which were taller than two men. Maron as well as the others were brought to the side of the building where there were living accomadations set into the ground, built like cells, but furnished with hay beds and a stone table. Before they were each given a room they recieved a speech from the man who bought them.
"You are all bound to the arena, you will fight or you will die. Your master does not take kindly to disobedience and loves a good show, so you better learn fast. You will train for the fights, and you will train hard, if you win a hundred fights you can earn your freedom. These are deadly fights, even if you aren't killed by your opponent the Magistrate of the city may just have you killed anyway if he isn't pleased. Magistrate Hector has had many a fighter killed, so you better put out quite a show. Learn fast or die fast."
Maron understood, even having full meals he new he was too weak to escape, much less know what to do. He was trapped and bound to this fate, but it might not be all bad. A hundred fights, its a lot, but if he can make it that would mean freedom, freedom to escape the empire, and to return home to his family. All he has to do is train hard and win, and it looks like thats exactly what they want him to be doing so it should be easy enough. While Maron was a scholar in practice, he was born to a knight and had the height and build of one, he had been taught the basics of how to fight and his stature wouldn't stand in his way.
After they were each given a room and a meal they were brought out to the training area, a fairly open yard with wooden poles stuck into the ground. All the words that were now spoken were foreign to Maron but he could make out the intentions. The word for the training area started to become clear, as well as the word for train, and the fighters. While he wasn't going to pick up the language overnight, he had a start on the basics, and mastering the language could prove invaluable. After being introduced to the trainer, a large man by the name of Barret, he began learning how to train.
The starting training routines were basic movements with various weapons, taught to make the fighters know how to defend their lives, this was important to prolong the fights and make them more exciting. The training went on to strength and endurance training as well as repeated strikes against a wooden pole. The training was easy for Maron to pick up, but quickly tired him and by the end of the day he was glad to be heading to his room where another meal awaited him.
The next day Maron awoke to a small meal and then was lead once again to the yard, with an order he could only make out as to repeat this routine. He went out to train where he was once again shown how to a wooden stick to defend himself, he was shown through the motions and paired up with another fighter who tore through his meager defenses and landed many blows on him, none of the blows were hard as they had to keep going. The fighter he was paired with seemed to be just a little older than Maron, he was tall, dark haired and held a smile like he was going to win the world. His appearance was a contrast to his position which seemed very jarring to Maron. His name, as far as Maron could tell was Jerald. The man would hold back some times and even correct Maron's technique. Each time he did this he recieved a harsh word from the trainer and occasional recieved a strike as well and then would continue on. While the training was gruelling and tiring, Jerald brought a nice contrast and the support and kindness helped Maron make it through.
Eventually the sparring was over, Maron had many bruises but nothing too lasting, after a short rest he began endurance and strength training which included stretches, running, and lifting of weights. While tough, Maron pushed through as long as he could until he tired out. Each time he slowed down or stopped Barret would come up behind him and swing at him hard with a wooden sword. It only took one lesson before Maron started moving as soon as he saw Barret move. While the training was hard, it didn't seem to have any requirements besides to push yourself. After what seemed like many hours to Maron he was ordered to stop and was given some food and a rest.
At the end of the rest Maron was given a wooden stick once again and was instructed to swing it repeatedly at one of the wooden poles stuck in the ground. The wooden pole would barely move when he hit it, but each time he felt the recoil through both of his hands and arms. After a few swings both his hands were sore, and his arms tired, but he was driven to continue once again by the threat of Barret's sword. Eventually the day ended and they returned to their rooms for a last meal and to sleep. At this point Maron was completely exhausted, sore, and bruised, he fell asleep imediately after finishing his meal.
The following days continued the long routine of training, from the start of the day they would only train, recover, and eat with training covering a large portion of the day. In the yard there were dozens of fighters training alongside Maron, they were mostly young men either Maron's age or older. While the younger ones seemed welcoming enough, the older men were somewhat distant as if they didn't want to get near Maron. This went on for weeks, with only one day off every couple weeks when the arena's games are held.
That day Maron woke up, and went to the yard as usual, but he was met with everyone chatting and relaxed, Jerald was missing, he had left training early the day before alongside a couple other of the older men who were also missing. Barret was there, but instead of starting their training he dismissed many of the fighters except for the newcomers who were brought to a set of metal bars from which they could see a large opening surrounded by walls upon which was a vast sea of spectators who seemed quite lively.
A man stood on a small outcrop looking over one end of the oval shaped arena, he was dressed in fine clothes with a green cape that had black trim. Maron could only assume this was Hector, the magistrate. Hector gave out what seemed to be an introduction to Maron. The speech drew silence from the crowd and the effect was exhilerating, as if his every word held so much power sound itself bowed to him. Eventually the speech ended with a roar from the crowd and on one end of the arena a fighter was sent in to fight, it was Jerald, armed with a short metal sword, and from the other side two hungry wolves were released.