"You...? You kicked the sheep? "
When the sheep had bleated, Kabal had jumped just like the girl and the giant wolf did. However before he could answer her, she and the wolf were up and gone.
Then, just as quickly, another girl joined him. His eye began to burn painfully, as if white-hot needles were stabbing him in his right eye. What was the meaning for the pain? Kabal couldn't help but hold his eye, completely distracted for a moment. He didn't even notice that another man had joined them, not until the sheep was already gone from his arms and the man had already knocked the girl over.
As the next turn of events unfolded, Kabal watched silently. He would have tried to help first, but someone already beat him to it. Kabal found that the man who was an Earth Power Wielder had been exceedingly merciful- Kabal, had he not have been distracted by the pain, most likely would have killed him on the spot, simply from trained instinct. It is not easy for one who has just come from the battlefield to adjust to city life, after all...on the battlefield, you kill or be killed, and that is all there is.
When it was over, the Earth Wielder had a few words with the shepardess, then the girl went and turned back to Kabal.
“And thank you for looking after my sheep.”
Kabal stood up and stared at her for a moment, momentarily bearing with the burning pain in his right eye as he put his hand down. He shook his head slowly, then answered, "No. I'm sorry. I kicked it on accident." Then, he began to walk away. However, he didn't get far, when he noticed the crazy old man shouting. His eye began to burn again, and once more Kabal resisted the temptation to put a hand to his eye. It was really starting to irritate him. Could it be....the people around him making his eye burn?
As he pondered that thought, a group of men in armor entered the area, calling for commoners to move out of the way. By the way they were dressed and held themselves, it was blatantly obvious that they were Holy Knights.
"Outta the way, old man!" One of them pushed past the old geezer who seemed to be drooling over the sheep. The leader and his entourage stopped in front of Kabal. The leader smirked at him, while Kabal merely gazed at him and looked him over.
"Kabal of the Blazing Eyes. I've heard stories about you. They say you're the most ruthless on the battlefield, and that you charge in before everyone else like some kind of suicidal maniac." The leader of the group's tone was condescending as he spoke. Then, he leaned in, seemingly to look into Kabal's eyes. "The rumors about your eyes are true too. They do glow with a strange light."
Kabal said nothing, but stared back at the man and didn't avert his gaze. He forced himself not to blink either, despite the constant burning of his right eye. Kabal knew who this 'leader' was, or, at least in theory. Supposedly, the guy was the last winner of the previous tournament. He'd heard that from his father a few days ago. What was his name again? It was-
"Conroy Jenkins, and you'd do well to remember my name." Conroy, with that same smirk on his face, leaned back and stepped away from Kabal.
Finally, Kabal spoke, his deep voice resounding softly, "What do you want?" As usual, he was blunt and to the point. Conroy's mouth went from a smirk to a rather creepy smile.
"I heard from a certain someone that you weren't going to enter the Tournament. It's a shame, really. I was hoping to face against the beastly Kabal, a man they say uses a rather strange and beautiful weapon. I've heard that the weapon was a strange mix between a staff, a sword, and a whip." Suddenly, the man unsheathed his sword and pointed it at Kabal's neck. "But I suppose here will do just fine, too." Then, The man cocked his head to the side and spoke to his entourage. "Surround them."
As the entourage surrounded the group, putting them into a medium-sized circle, Kabal knocked the sword away nonchalantly. "Do not challenge me unless you are prepared to die." He said simply, acid practically leaking into his voice, "You know not what you do, fool."
At the insult, Conroy brought up his sword again, but this time to slash at Kabal. Without stepping away, Kabal merely brought up his arm to deflect the blow. For any normal person, this would have been very stupid, considering that a sword could easily cut through an arm. However, most people couldn't summon Lava Armor. "You begin to irk me, Conroy of the Holy Knights. Do not throw your life away." Ignoring Kabal's warning, Conroy slashed with his sword again and again. Each time, Kabal would simply block it, using his Lava Armor wherever he needed to deflect the blows. This happened for at least ten minutes, as they seemed to dance around the area, careful of their surroundings.
"Why aren't you attacking me back? Are you scared? Or is it....you don't think I'm a challenge?" Conroy yelled between slashes, then suddenly stopped. It was obvious that Kabal was stronger and more experienced, but the man didn't seem to care. "You think I'm a joke, do ya?"
Listen.
"Agh!" Suddenly, a sharp, burning pain erupted in his right eye. It was more painful than ever, as if something was trying to get his attention. It was so bad that Kabal couldn't help but hold his eye and kneel to the ground. He hissed in pain, gritting his teeth against it.
Taking his unforeseen opportunity, Conroy used the chance to kick Kabal in the head with the heel of his armored boot. This, coupled with his eye, caused Kabal to drop like a rock. He would have passed out if he were any weaker.
"We'll see whose the joke when you compete in the Tournament without your weapon." He walked up to Kabal, rolled him over with his foot, and took Naginata and it's sheath. "If you want it back, you better enter and fight me. I won't give it back otherwise....I'll make sure it's in a place you'll never find it. Or maybe I'll just sell it for a high price, it looks like it would go for a good amount of gold pieces." Laughing, Conroy made a hand signal. His lackeys broke the circle and went back to his side.
Kabal, holding his head, got up painfully onto one knee. Then, he hissed with thinly veiled murderous intent, "You have signed your own death warrant. I will hunt you..." Flames began to gather at his hands, licking the ground in his anger.
Conroy merely laughed once more and then left, waving away Kabal's words.
For a moment, Kabal just knelt there, half on the ground and half up on one knee. Then, he got up. As he lifted up his face, it revealed two things- one, his right eye was bleeding, seemingly crying tears of blood. Two, his eyes seemed to look almost golden in color, despite them normally being a light brown. He looked around him, not bothering to wipe his face. A black-haired boy, an old geezer, a random person, and a sheperdess. He would need one more person, but so far, so good. He didn't care who he took with him. He was going to the Tournament.
And so were they, whether they liked it or not.
"You four." He called out to them.