The training fields

The trip to the palace barracks is uneventful. It’s early enough that few people are out, and those that are recognize Kael and largely stay away. Most people try to keep their distance from a champion unless they have specific reasons for it. This suits Kael just fine, as he prefers his solitude most times.

Once at the training field, Kael wastes no time, stripping off his shirt and grabbing a training weapon. Today it’s a weighted halberd. Idly spinning the weapon through some basic attack routines to warm up, Kael thinks about his new situation.

If he’s honest with himself, it was nice to have someone to talk to this morning, even if Evie wasn’t a great conversationalist. He’s sure that’ll change as she grows to trust him, however. And the breakfast was very good. Karl still feels a bit of guilt about having a **** though. It feels wrong. He promises himself that he’ll do his best to treat Evie as an equal, at least in private.

Kael is so lost in thought that he doesn’t even notice that someone else has walked in until they call out to him.

“Kael! Heard you had a bit of fun yesterday!”

Kael turns to see another champion walking in. It’s Orin, a brash, younger man who has risen through the ranks much like Kael did. Not exactly a friend, but a good fighter, and one Kael would definitely want fighting alongside him. He has some attitudes that Kael dislikes, but he’s very good at what he does. His innate magic allows him to enhance his strength and speed to superhuman levels.

They’re a good match in sparring, with Kael able to negate Orin’s abilities, but focusing on his nullifying abilities takes away from Kael’s superior combat abilities, leaving them evenly matched. Though he wouldn’t want to spend time with Orin outside of his duties, he enjoys training with him. It makes them both better.

Kael spins the heavy polearm into a rest position as Orin walks over, all smiles. “I don’t know if ‘fun’ is how I’d describe an **** attempt, Orin.”

Orin shrugs. “Bah, no assassin could get the jump on either of us. Besides, I heard Lord Greyheart rewarded you!”

Kael nods. “He did indeed.”

Orin grins and elbows Kael. “Heard he gave you one of those elven sluts. Fresh, too. You try her out yet, you old stick in the mud?”

Orin, of course, has several slaves. His tastes are well known among the other champions. While not abusive, per se, he definitely prefers slaves that can keep up with his libido, generally goblins or kobolds. Kael tolerates it because Orin picks slaves willing to practically throw themselves at him.

“No, I did not ‘try her out’, as I’m sure you guessed.”

Orin shrugs. “Your loss. I hear the elves are a good lay. I don’t have the patience for them, though.”

Kael rolls his shoulders, casually twirling the halberd again. “You come to train, or talk?”

Orin laughs, walking over to a weapon rack. “Train, of course. It’s fun to get you all worked up, though. Fancy a match?”

Kael nods, placing the halberd back and selecting a pair of heavy curved swords. “Of course. First blood?”

Orin grabs a broadsword and dagger, walking out into the center of the training room. “First blood, as always. Think you can keep up?”

Kael cuts the air a few times, and plants his feet, bringing the swords up. “I was going to ask you the same. You talk too much.”

Orin laughs. “Fine. Let’s go.”