Snippet #1468082

The Captain of the guard hid his feelings as well as ever and did not let an ounce of relief show on his face as Kali accepted, even embraced, her return to duty. There were few soldiers he could ever feel sorry for in the same situation but she had it tougher than anyone else he knew. A soldier coming from the outer arc (A polite way of saying the lower class) would soon find promotion little more than a dream for all but the very best. Being a woman did even more to dent her chances, so too did her foreign appearance. Of course there were strange looking and freakish individuals in the Union Army but she was one of a kind. Maybe that was why he felt compelled to help her out as much as he could. She never let these things stop her and her determination was unmatched within the ranks, having to compete with everyone toughened her up. But more than that, she was excellent at what she did. It had been noticed during basic training but nothing had been done about it until the Captain, then a Lieutenant, had happened across and recommended her for further training. And that hadn't been the end of it, his influence grew as he did and before long he became the sole reason for her being chosen for her first classified mission, something she accomplished with grace and pride, leading her to solidify her place and prove wrong all those who doubted the ability of a woman in battle. Of course, he would never admit to helping out so much, couldn't in fact, for fear of disciplinary action concerning favouritism of the troops, even as far as conspiracy. They held that much disdain for her that he would not be surprised to be convicted of treason without a trial should his actions be found out. Well, maybe that was going a little far but he would take no chances in being caught. His involvement was minimal now she was at a high point in her career and his tracks were covered well. Despite all his help, he knew her full potential was far from reached.

And so he kept composed as he walked with her to the training area, being handed his 'grapple' as he went: The three pronged ball and chain weapon that he was now famous for utilising for non-lethal combat, focusing instead on mentally preparing himself for a fight, something he felt was much needed, rolling his shoulders flexing his muscles beneath his leather armour during the journey to loosen his limbs up. One could never prepare enough.

“Will you be going off to fight yourself, you are more than formidable in both reputation and size."

The question had not been expected exactly but it did not take him off guard and his response was swift, honest and to the point.

"Who can say? For now I stay here, Jarvaise needs me. Were I to go at this point it would show only that we deem an uprising a threat. Rather than convince rebels to return to their post it may inspire others to join them..." He let his words remain unfinished as he thought how best to put his next phrase. Details were details but confidential information needed to remain that way.

"If things get worse I may have no choice." It was all he could think to say. It certainly implied the truth, that rumours were afoot of similar circumstances at various points in the country, but said nothing for certain. At the very least he didn't reveal anything in his tone of voice, he was stern as ever.

They soon reached the clearing outside, surrounded by the building itself, which was segregated by lines on the ground for different activities. Today they would be ignored. It was known by the few who were ever present at this event that boundaries, moral as well as physical, were not enforced. No training blades, no extra padding, no special precautions and no more limits than would be found on the field of battle, so far as anyone else was concerned. The truth of the matter was that the two warriors in the ring were good enough to let fly full force and still be able to prevent causing any injury to one another... Well, any serious injury anyway.

The gloves were off. He removed his gaultlets, as symbolic an act as a material one. While freeing some weight from his arms he also removed his rank, revealing thick, carved muscles on his forearms. Taking his stance across from his opponent, Kronis drew his blade in his right hand and held it diagonally across his left shoulder, waiting for the first blow to come through the silence. The flag was waved, fluttering in the light breeze that made it in from the nearby alleyway and the game was on.

There were a few seconds of stillness in the court before Kali lunged forward, dropping her belt and drawing her sword and raising her scabbard for the strike that would start a ferocious match. He was ready and his own sword dropped to across his stomach in a blur and rose to parry away the viscious lunge to the right, spinning on the ball of his right foot to bring his left forward where it planted in the dirt, a small cloud of dust not having the chance to rise before his blade swung around, bringing the scrape of metal on metal to the combatant's ears, his arm dropped, elbow locked at a right angle beneath his shoulder for the briefest of moments, before the uncanny speed set off again and a straight jab issued forth, aimed directly at Kali's stomach with a grunt.

~~~~~~~~~~

Not too far away in the city, a little further along the wall, sat Sebastian. He was still in shock and felt frozen to the spot. It was all he could do to keep his eyes open, the scene before him was simply staggering. It stood against everything he'd ever learnt. A man simply could disappear and materialise elsewhere, it went against every law of physics ever written! Therefore he concluded that the situation was the result of one of two things. First, he was currently dreaming, although it felt far too real and what little he knew of dreams stacked evidence against that claim. The second option was that he had dreamt his life in London and was now awake. But he could remember every aspect of his life there in vivid clarity, surely a dream could not last that long?

Either concept led to the same conclusion, sitting around feeling sorry for himself wasn't the way to go. So, with more than a little trepidation, he stood, using the wall for support, and walked slowly off to join the flowing crowd, becoming aware of smells, sights and sounds never before witnessed (That he knew of). There were objects being sold that would have been at home in a museum back home, weapons on backs and waists that he had not seen outside films, people that were-

"Jesus!"

He backed up, straight into a woman with a basket of strange fruit in her arms after seeing a man with the long snout of a sniffer dog and a tail protruding from the back of his waistline to match.

"Oh, I'm so sorry" he muttered as he turned to see the produce rolling away across the floor and under a hundred pairs of boots, instantly sure his overactive mind had concieved the sight from some work of fiction or other. "Let me help you with that."

"No, no, it's fine" she replied in an accent he could not quite place, looking at him in the same manner he had looked at many himself; as though he were insane. He got the picture instantly and did not wish to make a scene so headed off without another word, mind still reeling from what he thought he saw. His eyes scanned the crowd as he went and there it was again, the man-dog. He thought no make-up artist in the world could make it look that realistic and his hands coming up to cover his face, the world starting to spin around him as he found himseld once more pushed along through the crowd until it started to slow, apparently for some preacher or other he could hear speaking about-

"Interstate 5"

-Something that belonged here no more than he did. Eyes open, hands on shoulders to ease people aside, everything stationary once again and stomach settled, Sebastian caught sight of yet another strange looking person standing above the crowd. But this one was different, he was strange by London standards, not medieval standards, and he was talking about the interstate. He'd never been so happy to see an American. An arm rose for a moment above the crowd, his own he saw, but he decided to wait, to see what else this man might say.