Not far from the tavern known as Soliloquy rests an old building that has remained unoccupied for many months. The building has been purchased recently and equipment is moving in slowly but surely. Unlike most buildings in the area, this one contains nothing that a person can purchase. The former shop is one large square room with eight symmetrical windows a door in front and back. The ceiling is vaulted, high enough for a Roegadyn to clown around without causing structural damage. Wooden floor has been carefully swept, and actually seem to be the structure's cleanest feature.
Each wall is filled with racks which remain mostly empty. The north wall holds a collection of wooden weapons, obviously meant for practice. The south wall supports some cheap plate armor suits of low quality. The east and west walls have nothing but empty racks. A large training mat takes up nearly half of the floor, placed in the room's exact center. The training mat has the symbol of Rhalgr carefully stitched in vibrant violet. Several combat dummies seem to be randomly placed along the east and west walls, and they have seen a great deal of use.
Dawn is approaching soon, only fifteen minutes away. Mikael is in the center of the training mat waiting in Chinese style splits. He faces the eastern entrance, eyes closed and head bowed. He wears nothing but a pair of loose-fitting white breeches, chosen for comfort rather than style. Sweat pours freely down his carefully sculpted body, hands resting at both hips as he awaits his first arrival.
Each wall is filled with racks which remain mostly empty. The north wall holds a collection of wooden weapons, obviously meant for practice. The south wall supports some cheap plate armor suits of low quality. The east and west walls have nothing but empty racks. A large training mat takes up nearly half of the floor, placed in the room's exact center. The training mat has the symbol of Rhalgr carefully stitched in vibrant violet. Several combat dummies seem to be randomly placed along the east and west walls, and they have seen a great deal of use.
Dawn is approaching soon, only fifteen minutes away. Mikael is in the center of the training mat waiting in Chinese style splits. He faces the eastern entrance, eyes closed and head bowed. He wears nothing but a pair of loose-fitting white breeches, chosen for comfort rather than style. Sweat pours freely down his carefully sculpted body, hands resting at both hips as he awaits his first arrival.
