Sigurd gave an enthusiastic nod.

Well, this is a pleasant surprise. The thought flew through his head. He had been expecting some old fart to be giving him today’s lessons. But that did not seem to be the case. Well, Remington could still be a fart, but mostly a pleasant one. Like a sneaky elevator fart that nobody realized came from you.

Right, we’ve got proper ways to do things here.

Pulling himself out of the fart comparisons. His hand shot to his forehead in salute, back straightened as he said. “Cadet Sigurd Holst, looking forward to being mentored by you.” Bootcamp mode was definitely still holding on tight.

His hand quickly fell when the introduction had been finished. “So, what are we doing?” Sigurd looked expectantly. He had been told nothing besides show up and be mildly professional about it.

TAG: @remington
OOC: Mission thread for Enlistment Act 1
LOCATION: SLATEPORT CITY -> UPPER DISTRICT

Sure would’ve been nice to get some time off after Bootcamp… A sigh escaped Sigurd.

With hands behind his head, Sigurd walked down the streets of Slateport toward the designated meeting point. Clad in a neat-looking officer’s suit. He was supposed to be meeting with his designated superior officer for some basic training.

Even with his snail’s pace walk, he would get there in time. However, he was not prepared for the person he saw there. That couldn’t be, right? He thought.

Arms fell to his side in surprise for a short moment as he established the identity of the person waiting. It is him! A wide grin spread on his face.

His right hand reached up in a casual greeting as he rather loudly proclaimed. “Yoooo. Small world, what brings you here?” Completely oblivious to the very idea that his old-time friend would be the one to teach him the ropes.

TAG: @remington
OOC: Mission thread for Enlistment Act 1
LOCATION: SLATEPORT CITY -> UPPER DISTRICT

“WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE SOOOOOOOO HOT!” Sigurd cried out to no one in particular.

Sweat was falling like the waterfalls of Ever Grande City down his neck as the scorching rays of the Old Desert ruins baked him.

The Flygon by his side looked around a little bit embarrassed. Luckily it seemed no one saw or heard it.

“I mean, sure it was my idea to come here. Getting one of those fancy sword Pokémon sounded cool and all. But does it need to be so hot! Turn down the thermostat someone, energy ain't cheap?!” He halted himself from saying a curse in his second tongue, fearing his mother might by some magical means hear him.

A gentle Flagon paw reassured the young trainer, while the shade of a Flygon wing began to protect it.

Tales of Knightly valor and noble houses were not something that was often shared at home, but he had heard one or two such tales in the past. Though he much preferred the tales of the noble warriors of his mother’s tribe. Fearless in their pursuit of battlefield glory, relentless in the defense of their people. While a blade was not their most known weapon of choice. Nobody had yet to find a living axe Pokémon to wield, and no the sham known as Haxorus does not count.

As the pair walked, lost in thoughts they stumbled upon one of the Swarm. Flygon had to abandon its shade duty and begin the fight.

The battle was short. Though powerful the blade may be. It was naught compared to draconic fury.

And with its defeat, Sigurd would attempt to catch it. Hopefully, he would succeed.

72raBl8P