Strolling from the southgate to the eastgate, you have to cross a sizeable part of the city. It is only then, that you realize how big this city truly is. While it is fairly impossible to miss, largely for its big size, the east gate still is roughly 15 minutes away, and you find yourself passing through at least three differently specialized bazaars, a smith's alley, and crossing a small park, before you finally reach the gate itself. The smell of exotic spices, exquisite perfume, sweat, and the sea merges into an unique air that is soothing and exciting at once. The streets are filled with the noise of thousands of people haggling, shouting out their offers to the crowd, or simply sitting idly in the shadow, chatting with friends or family. The garrison is a little bit set aside from the main streets, away from too many tempting things civilians like to waste their time on, and surrounded by high walls, essentially becoming a small fortress in its own right. The Barracks are open to everyone, at least open for everyone who looks strong or important enough, and you have no problems getting in.Inside  are different areas for different training methods: a firing range for archers and skirmishers, Tracks for walking, a small arena with a sand floor, and an assortment of wooden weapons nearby... and that's exactly where you find the lions. They are currently fighting with 2 recruits, a 2 vs 2 battle, all combatants armed with wooden arms. Focusing on the Orc first, you see him wield his axes with frightening ease, driving the poor lad in front of him back with savage swings, which the poor lad seems eager to avoid, even to the point of abandoning his comrade in arms. At least to the point where he cannot go back anymore without leaving the arena. Having driven his opponent into a corner the Orc smiles wickedly, and stretches himself, letting lose a wide swing with both weapons that easily breaks through the guard of his opponent, knocking him out cold as both axes hit his chest. Meanwhile the half-elf grappled his opponent, and is now choking him with a sorrowful face, asking him again and again to surrender. The second guard, who was clearly hoping for his comrade to help him out, now recognizes his defeat with a pained, half choked voice and is immediately released. While the Half-elf is sweating now, his muscled body glistering in the bright sun, the orc  seems more disappointed than exhausted.