Snippet #2409969

The day had finally come. It was here.

And it was about time.

Ridley mentally boosted the output of his turbine so as to put a little more spring in his step. His grin couldn't be wider, and his stride anymore confident. In a strike of nostalgia, he reflected upon his life, and what it was more than 15 years ago. His family had little to live on month to month, and he worked like a slave in the mechanik's shops. Yet, all of those pained years worth the all-the-more excruciating years he spent under his mentor's tutelage. As a young boy, he would have never dreamed that he'd be standing amongst Cygnar's elite soldiers: the Warcasters. Though, here he was, about to reveal himself to the Kingdoms beyond Cygnar, in one of her most prestigious cities: Corvis. He felt a bit odd walking toward ground of the Steam and Steal tournament. Usually when he was in his silver-shined Warcaster Armor, it was to head off into battle, and spend the next couple hours getting shot at and nearly blown to pieces while maintaining focus on a warjack placed under his control. In these last couple years, war had mostly been his life, surviving one battle to the next, protecting his fellow soldiers, while trying to prove useful to his harsh teacher and commanding officer. Speaking of whom, decided it was a perfect time to thrust her elbow into the back of his head...

"Agggghhh," Ridley groaned as he bent forward a bit, grasping his skull. "That was a tad uncalled for wouldn't you think?!"

Kara Sloan, a Cygnaran Warcaster, and pronounced marksman, hat a heart of stone when it came to showing sympathy for her subordinates. Like all times before, her gaze was stern and fierce, speaking volumes within of itself. She too was wearing Warcaster Armor, plated with the proud golds, whites, and blues of her nation. Except she, unlike him, had her weapon of choice slung over her shoulder. A marvel of firearm technology, Spitfire as it was called, was a custom magelock rifle, capable of firing the most incredible rounds...as well as capable of incredible carnage. As she walked, by passed him, she gave a short scoff.

"Remember where you are, Ridley," she started, her tone thick with authority, "Thousands of eyes are going to be locked on you. They will be watching intently. Some are eager to see you succeed, others are eager to see you fail in everything you do. Remember that this isn't just about you, this about the country you represent."

She stopped for a moment, and placed a hand on his chest plate, which was mostly covered by his light green tabbard. Her hand then traced up to his left shoulder plate, which had the Insignia of the Swan upon it. She tapped it once with her finger, but suddenly grasping the plate of armor where his arm came out, and jostled him violently before pulling his whole body closer to her so that they were face to face.

"You have a damned habit of not taking things seriously. Over the years, I have noticed it takes you some motivation to get your mind set on doing exactly what you need to do." The ice in her voice got even colder. "That. Will not. Work. Here. When you walk onto that field, you are the image of Cygnar. You are our military future, focused into a single individual. What you display out there will reflect as positively or poorly on your nation as it will you." She let go of his armor, and straightened her posture. "With that said, know that you have become an exceptional soldier, one I can say that I'm proud to have trained. Now, get that dirty grin off your face, and get ready. All the kingdoms are waiting."

Kara turned and proceeded down the road, but for a moment, Ridley, smiling his ever constant smile took a moment to look into the sky, watching the ceremonial fireworks as they burst into the sky. He readjusted his armor, and with a little more tact in his step, made way after his mentor.

"You have my word!" He called after her. "I won't let you or Cygnar down. There are some good winds today, and I intend to ride them."