[i]"125...126...127...128...129...130"[/i]

It has been an hour since he woke up in his cell, usually being up earlier than most in the pit, starting his morning off with his daily warm up. Shirtless and with the sweat dripping from his chin and the sounds of controlled breathing, Salamel was in the middle of his push-ups...the third exercise for the morning before it was breakfast time. 

[i]"131...132...133...134...135[/i]

Grunting a little from the burn in his arms, Salamel couldn't help but think of how careless he was, allowing himself to sleep while on the run. Yes he's only been in the pit for about 3 weeks now but never have anyone bested him before, capturing him straight out. No...his capture was too easy...his captors was able to sneak in his room after Salamel was enjoying festivities until getting drunk, thanks to a belly dancer who insisted on having a 'good time'...only to have been set up by her to get captured and brought in while sleeping and waking up chained and weakened from the drug that was put in his drink and the anti-magic crystals. 

As upsetting as this situation was, being stuck in this prison, he's learned of come notorious magic users he's had the pleasure of catching sight of. He knew deep down, something was brewing....it was too calm....too orderly...not enough chaos or disruption. Only time would tell until someone would decide to make a move and cause a little anarchy but....for now.... [i]"145..146...147...148...149...150"[/i]