The cold walls of his room, the various sets of weights, and only the small book of colorful pictures in the corner were Gaulirax's property, but he cherished all that he had. This day was rather depressing though as he had looked forward to getting out and training, but Rathrid had told him it was not to be. He sighed as he grabbed one of his weights a simple iron ball with a handle weighing around seventy pounds, but just as he did the door swung open revealing two of his Mistress' men. The chain have away what was to take place, as they had no food for him and he knew that he was to be having a meeting with his Mistress as she was the only one to actually leash him.

Standing he willingly let the chain be attached before being led into the hall. Even leashed, without weapons, or armor Gaulirax was an intimidating sight. Powerful, large muscles pressed against scale as if threatening to tear through, his head was held high while his neck flexed against the collar with a slight creak. Small tendrils of smoke wafted from his nostrils. Yes, Gaulirax even in his confined state standing there in nothing, but a loincloth was sight to behold, proud, and powerful wrapped up in a well muscled, deadly form, covered in scales. Lips curled back to reveal the razor sharp teeth that resided within as he gave a lazy yet amused smile, his taloned fingers curling into fists for a moment before unfurling themselves from his palms leaving only slight pinpricks, where tiny droplets of blood formed revealing his aggravation over missing training over what he considered a trivial thing.

Gaulirax after his time training, and his defeat of the Minotaur, had felt a swell of pride that only grew every time he swung his hammer, furthmore he had spent much of his time while training listening to Rathrid recount stories of heroic characters, and even the dwarf's own personal adventures, causing him to yearn to be more than just a simple gladiator. So when the men spoke lightly of him, Gaulirax turned his head slightly. "When you have lived a life under the harsh whip of a sadistic Mistress, or nearly died fighting a minotaur while thousands cheered for you to fall, only to rise the victor. Then you may no my worth. For while I may be a slave, and you may be free at least I am not a sheep." He waited for something to strike him, it was not often a slave would speak like such to anyone, and he understood punishment was more than likely, but he also knew that nothing they would do to him would be comparable to the sharp whacks of Rathrid's wooden sword sinking into scale and muscle. So he waited prepared to follow their lead, or bear the weight of their retribution.