It's Worthless Without Sweat

Goblin

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Shale had lost track of how long he'd been outside in the backyard. It had been at some point where he was still mostly blind, and by now the sun had set something like an hour ago. Regardless, he kept on, breathing hard as he repeatedly slammed into the stone dummies he'd made. Roldan had said he was going to be here around this time, and the gargoyle wanted to be as warmed up as possible. He'd trained much harder than this in the past on a nearly daily basis, so this really was nothing.

There was no denying he needed to vent in a way that just fucking up rock vampires couldn't provide, however. Other than a couple pretty one sided scraps at school, he hadn't seen the slightest hint of combat since arriving here, and it was starting to itch. With one final kick to a particularly large dummy's head, he sent it careening off away from the house, smashing into an old tree there with a sickening crack, the surface of the wood splintering. With that, he decided to take a breather, sitting down and leaning against one of his targets.
 

Kada

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Roldan dived out of the sky upside down like a missile, his wings tucked behind him as he made his descent. He pulled up at the last second and landed, wings stretched out wide to wlcatch the air and stop his fall. Dramatic? For sure. But he couldn't help it. And a small part of him hoped that Celeste saw him. He liked how impressed she always seemed to be with his draconic form.

But he wasn't here for Celeste today. He was here for Shale, whom he had promised he would spar with. Cracking his neck and shifting his wings away as he landed, he gave a long, low whistle as he gestured to the dummy and the tree.

"He never stood a chance. Maybe give me a bit more of a handicap though, eh?" He laughed. "How have you been, Shale?"
 

Goblin

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Shale had just begun to catch his breath when he spotted Roldan descending, raising his hand in a stiff wave. The gargoyle stood from his resting position and stretched for a few moments, his back popping rather loudly. "Hey. Thanks for coming." Roldan's joke earned a faint smile, and he could only shrug in response.

How was he, though? All things considered, this was the best he'd ever been. He had the opportunity to learn, genuine freedom to do as he pleased within much more lax restrictions than he was used to, and a family that was loving despite being new. "Well, uh...I mean, I'm fine for the most part. I guess my biggest complaint is restlessness. I'm used to defending from warring clans every other day, and even though I didn't want to..." He sighed heavily, rolling his left shoulder back and rubbing the same arm. "I don't know. It feels wrong to stay so peaceful."
 

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"I get that. I get the itch every so often. Steal treasure. Kidnap a princess. Burn a castle. I'm a dragon, it's what we do." Roldan grinned, clearly joking. Well, he wasn't really, but the urges weren't normally that strong. Roldan took off his jacket and his overshirt, leaving him in his track pants and a tank top. He cracked his neck and stretched his shoulders and arms, slowly getting ready for the coming spar.

"But there's a phrase you might like. Si vis pacem, para bellum. It's Latin. It means, 'if you want peace, prepare for war.'" He continued his routine, leaning over to stretch out his hamstrings and his back muscles. "It means that just because things are peaceful doesn't mean you shouldn't keep yourself sharp. You're easily the strongest person in your house. If anything bad ever happens, you might have to be the front line."

"But at the same time," he added as he finished up his stretches, "don't get paranoid. Don't go looking for trouble. Because if you're looking for it, you'll find it. But when the dust settles, you'll find it was all your fault. Trust me. I've been there."
 

Goblin

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Shale's brow furrowed while he listened to Roldan's advice, considering everything he said carefully. He had figured the dragon would have words of wisdom to share on the matter, but even so, it would be very difficult to strike a balance between preparedness and paranoia. "Huh...I'll remember that."

He glanced over at Roldan doing his stretches, figuring he was more than warmed up already, but joining him nonetheless. "So...how do we want to do this, exactly? I figure no shifting or any crazy shit like that. I just need to know how much I need to pull my punches, if at all."
 

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"Well, I might partially shift a bit. I'm only as strong and durable as a normal human when I'm like this. I figure, bulk my muscles a bit, protect the important bits with scales. Even the playing field since you're kinda always-"

Roldan finished his stretches and grinned at Shale. "-ya know. Made of stone."

Doing just what he'd mentioned, Roldan partially shifted. He didn't really get bigger, but his muscles did consideration bulk up, making him look a good bit more muscular. His scales, a dark reddish brown, ran up his arms and across his chest, up his neck to his cheeks. His eyes flared up bright, like the glow of a forge with draconic slits for pupils.

He took a wide low stance and spoke with a deeper, more roaring quality in his voice. "I figure we wrestle more than box. Less likely to actually injure either of us. Mostly me," he added with a laugh. "You know any submission holds, Shale?"
 
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