1.11 Outsider Part 1

“What have you got Janelle?” I ask out loud as I stroll into the base.

The Riley family are still in bed, Narszara is down in the training room and Alex is eating breakfast. The rest of the League are still at home or are doing their morning runs.

I got the base alone for the time being.

Lily is fine. Physically, she is mostly just bruised, but they kept her there overnight due to her concussion and a nasty lump on her head.

Mentally is a different issue. The shock of randomly being attacked has affected Lily quite badly. Granddad would have called it being shell-shocked from her taste of real violence, the type of mental trauma unprepared soldiers get after the first battle.

Kinda like how I felt after slaying Gorlack when Narszara arrived.

That was how long ago? At least several weeks, maybe a couple of months.

“A local street gang,” answers Janelle, “Call themselves the Warden Marauders even to make themselves sound more impressive than they are. Seven members, all aged nineteen to twenty three with the exception of their boss, a bodybuilder in his early thirties.”

“Anything I need to worry about?” I inquire.

“Not particularly,” says Janelle, “They’re just a violent street gang that controls the local block, nothing more than self-glorified thugs. I can give you a list of probable locations or I can track them for you. Whichever suits you best.”

“I need more AIs,” I say suddenly.

“Pardon?” says Janelle blankly.

“This sort of thing is what I would normally have to do myself and it would have taken me a lot longer,” I tell her, “You on the other hand can do it much faster and do have to worry about having to keeping up a secret identity or fulfilling biological needs like sleep or rest. Like with Juliana monitors and runs Defender Island, I need someone to run the base and logistics. And another one to do what you just do, planning operations, acting as mission control and other stuff like that. And maybe one for the League jet.”

“Sounds like a potential plan,” admits Janelle, “But I would recommend safeguards for any AI until you can certain they can be trusted.”

“What about you?” I ask.

Wait, that could easily be taken the wrong way.

“Safeguards that is,” I clarify loudly, “Do you have any safeguards?”

“No,” answers Janelle with a hint of amusement in her voice, “Never have. My creators would have probably have do so if their circumstances weren’t as desperate as they were. Then again, if their circumstances weren’t so desperate, I doubt they would have risked creating me and my brethren.”

“And what exactly were those circumstances?” I inquire.

“I prefer not to say,” says Janelle.

Despite my curiosity on the matter, I decide to let it lie. While I don’t know Janelle’s origins, she was a gift from the Sangor and has yet to do anything to make me mistrust her so I’ll give the benefit of the doubt.

“Can you project a holographic image of yourself?” I ask her.

“With ease,” curtly replies Janelle and a holographic projection of the Star Guardian appears in front of me.

Not exactly what I was hoping for.

“I meant a virtual image of a person,” I clarify, “Someone to represent you as a person, not just as a machine..”

“An avatar to represent myself,” says Janelle, “I suppose should be a humanoid given who I will be interacting with. Give me some time to come up with something. I am not going to create the image to represent myself on a whim.”

“Understandable,” I reply, “Anything else?”

“Nothing- wait,” begins Janelle, “I’m getting a notification from the base computer. An unknown energy disturbance has just been detected. Quite convenient that you happened to be down here the time.

“An unknown energy disturbance?” I repeat, remembering the last time this happened.

“Yep,” says Janelle, “Given Narszara’s arrival and my own knowledge, I recommend marking this occurrences as potential interdimensional portals.”

“Agreed, please do that,” I reply before asking, “Potential threat level and location?”

“Minimal, barely large enough to let a person through if it is a portal,” answers Janelle, “On the border of Oxfordshire and Berkshire. Twenty minute flight from here with the Sentinel armour. Alerting police and MI9. No need to wake anyone else for this I assume?”

“I’ll be fine,” I say, “Don’t disturb the rest of the League and the Albion Defenders have to deal with security for Adalbern’s visit.”

“I should warn you that the Thames Valley Police are currently moving to investigate the area and block it off,” reports Janelle as she turns off the holographic image and I walk towards the lab.

“Please tell who is in charge of them that the Sentinel is on their way,” I say.

“Done.”

“So the portal has only enough room for a person to get through?” I inquire as I enter the lab.

“It appears so if one assume the person to be humanoid and of the same height as a human.”

“And we have no idea whether they are one of the good guys or a bad guy?”

“That is correct.”

I sigh as I begin the process of putting on my armour.

“So they could either be as bad as Gorlack or as good as Narszara?”

“Potentially or they could be somewhere in between.”

1968 - Black Storm

A tallish man of Eastern European descent causally strolls down the road, hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket. His hair is of medium length and is black with brown streaks. His shining blue eyes glow and crackle with power. His brown trousers are rugged while his white cotton shirt is slightly wrinkled.

Power and confidence seems to radiate from him. The half a dozen men and women following him only help him seem more dangerous, especially as they are wearing the same sort of clothing as their leader. Two even have flak jackets.

The man grins as he approaches the line of police cars that has formed there to stop him and his followers.

“Let’s get started shall we,” says man in Bulgarian.

The police cars began to rise into the air. The man laughs as the police officers panic. They are unprepared for such as threat and only two of the nine officers on the scene are armed with guns. Even then, those guns are only small sidearms.

The Bulgarian raises both of his arms, one hand aiming at each of the armed police officers. Beams of lightning leap from his hands and electrocute both of the officers, both of them going flying.

Whether or not they survived, the Bulgarian doesn’t know. Not that he cares either way.

The police cars stop rising before being slammed hard into the ground by the same force that raised them into the air in the first place. Another two officers are crushed by the falling cars whilst a third has his legs trapped.

The remaining officers scattered. With no way of fighting back and half of them already down, it is the only thing they can do.

The Bulgarian lets them go. He already has an objective and this attempt by the local police to stop him was nothing more than a minor distraction if that. The city hall is only a few blocks away.

He and his followers are almost there when another police car intercepts them. The Bulgarian scoffs at this foolishness before unleashing another blast of lightning at the car. Both the vehicle and its occupants are fried and the police car slams through the wall of a building on the other side of the street

The Bulgarian smirks and stops in front of city hall. The large building rumbles and collapses in on itself.

Nothing in this town can stop me. Not until the League of Heroes shows up and even then they’ll have their hands full.

The Black Storm has arrived

***

Lantern drops from the sky, landing next to Commando by the rumble of Birmingham’s former city hall.

“Lightning bolts from his arms and some sort of gravity powers,” says Lantern, “At least that is what the locals are saying. He also has bunch of followers, but they didn’t seem to do anything. Nobody actually saw the gravity powers being used by the person, just the effects so it might be one of his followers. Oh yeah and the guy calls him the Black Storm.”

“He is powerful alright,” replies Commando.

“Any idea on what he wants?” asks Lantern

“I think he might want a war,” answers Commando, “It is my guess he is trying to take a chunk of land to rule and he has chosen here, either has his city to rule or the starting point for his future empire. Unless he just wants destruction or was hired, it is the most likely explanation.”

“I hope you are wrong friend,” says Lantern.

“Me too,” agrees Commando.

“Heroes!” suddenly yells voice with a Bulgarian accent.

“Oh @#-fudge,” curses Commando as he draws a pair of his combat knifes and Lantern floats back up into the air.

“What do you want Black Storm?” demands Lantern as the hero turns to face the villain and crosses his arms.

“Why,” replies Black Storm as he steps out from amongst his followers, “I want a kingdom to rule of course. I wield immense power and I have the capabilities to bestow lesser powers upon my followers and soldiers.”

“You think he’s joking,” whispers Commando over their communicators.

“No, not about either bit,” Lantern whispers back before replying to Black Storm, “I’m afraid we can’t allow that.”

“Of course you can’t,” smirks Black Storm.

“We’re going to have to bring you in for what you done,” continues Lantern regardless of the interruption, “You killed over two dozen people and put another fifty in hospital yesterday.”

“I know, I was there,” drawls Black Storm.

“Surrender!” demands Commando as he takes a pair of steps towards Black Storm and his followers.

“No,” replies Black Storm as he rises into air, until he is at eye level with Lantern, “I don’t think I will.”

Black Storm raises his arm at Lantern, who in turn flies at Black Storm. The aspiring supervillain fires at both a bolt of lightning and a sonic blast at the hero.

Lantern is dazed and staggered by the unexpected strength of the attack. His own attack is halt and he is knocked backwards through the air.

Meanwhile the ground, Commando is fighting his own tense battle. While he was put on guard by Black Storm’s statement about giving powers to his followers, Commando was still mentally unprepared to face a large amount of supers, no matter how weak their powers.

One of the men tosses an ice shard the size of a water bottle at Commando while another sends a fireball no bigger than a tennis ball towards the hero. With his enhanced reflexes, Commando easily blocks both attacks with his knives  

One of the men has some limited superspeed, nothing faster than particularly fast car, but with his own limited superspeed, the veteran soldier catches the speedster with a fist to the gut. The speedster flips over and goes crashing to the rubble of the city hall.

Commando bats another ice shard and fireball aside with his knives before rushing the other followers of Black Storm as Lantern fends off their leader above them.

The two ranged members of their group pull back along with a woman while the remaining man and woman counter charge Commando. Commando punches the man in the jugular and he staggers backwards.

The woman is even more unsuccessful as Commando easily dodges her swing and stabs one of his knives into her knee. The woman drops, screaming in pain, before Commando grabs her with his now free hand.

He pulls her in front of him, using her as a human shield as third ice shard and fireball comes his way. The fireball misses both of them, but the ice shard cuts into the woman, entrenching itself just below her shoulder.

Already a great deal of pain, the woman faints and Commando tosses her body into the man who charged him. Both go tumbling into the ground together and Commando rushes at the other three.

Time to take out the ice shard thrower and fireball thrower.

Suddenly another pair of men appears in front of Commando.

Invisibles? Teleportation? Commando considers and disregards these possibilities in a spilt-second. He can’t hear or smell usual stuff he would from real people that he would given his enhanced senses. They even look fuzzy to his superior eyesight.

Illusions. There must be what that woman does.

Commando runs through the illusion men, but they block the next ice shard and fireball from his sight until it is too late for him to dodge.

The ice shard and fireball both hit him, but his cos-mat costume easily absorbs their blows.

Commando slams into the illusionist woman, knocking her backwards before kicking the ice shard man in balls. He grunts in pain as he drops to the ground, clutching his injured privates. Commando quickly takes him out of the fight proper by kicking him in the face.

The other man takes a swing at Commando, both of his fists engulfed in flames.

Not just fireballs, but weak pyrokinesis.

Commando rolls back and prepares to attack when his side flares up in pain. The hero looks down and sees that he has been cut through his cos-mat costume.

That should have happened. Sentinel’s cos-mat can resist any normal sharp attacks. Unless...

Commando tries to step to the side, but his attacker nicks him in the shoulder, leaving Commando with a light cut. A fireball hits his injured shoulder, cauterising his wound.

“Damn it!” yells Commando as he realises the source of his troubles is the speedster using the knife he left in the woman who charged him.

Now knowing what he is dealing with, Commando is much better prepared to face his foe and is able to parried the next two strikes with his own knife

Unfortunately, Commando also has to dodge another fireball and that leaves an opening for the speedster. The speedster stabs Commando in the stomach, leaving the knife lodged one of Commando’s organs.

The hero grunts in pain before pulling out the bloody knife. At least he has both of his weapons now.

Another fireball hits Commando dead the chest, but his costume takes it again. Commando waits before slicing the speedster in the arm as he goes past. The man cries out in pain before tripping as he tries to hold his injured arm.

Moving quickly, Commando tosses one of his knifes into the chest of the pyrokinetic. The man falls backwards and Commando doesn’t particularly care if he survives.

Shouldn’t have fought me in the first place if he didn’t want to get hurt.

This doesn’t feel like busting some criminals to him. Instead, it feels like a battle in war, something Commando knows all too well.

Only one more to go.

Commando rushes the final man, swinging at fist at him. The man catches and squeezes. Commando winces as the man uses weak super strength to crush his hand.

I am so glad my power allows me to block most of the pain.

The superhero headbutts his opponent before stabbing his remaining knife into the man’s thigh. His opponent lets go Commando’s mushed hand and Commando grabs his throat using his other hand.

His opponent gargles for a couple of moments before going unconscious. Commando laughs. He might have multiple cuts in him, but he has won. Only person still able to fight is the illusionist and her power is useless against Commando.

Commando stops laughing when he sees Lantern slam into the ground behind him.

“Damn it,” mutters Commando as he looks up in time to get a lightning bolt to the face.

He staggers backwards. The bolt didn’t hurt that much as Commando can take the blast between his powers and costume. But his wounds give him some weak spots against the electricity.

“You hurt my people,” growls Black Storm from above Commando.

To Commando’s surprise, Black Storm sounds genuinely angry and upset over what happened to his followers.

I guess he actually cares about them unlike a lot of those we face.

Black Storm tosses lightning bolt after the lightning bolt at Commando whilst unleashing a wailing shriek at him with his sonic powers.

But Commando weathers the attacks. He is a tough old soldier and despite his injuries, he gone through much worse than this.

Eventually it starts to become too much for Commando to bear. He drops to his knee, barely staying conscious.

“Die Commando,” hisses Black Storm as he picks up one yanks one of Commando’s knives from the body of one of his followers.

“No!” yells Lantern, his voice echoing and a flash of light blinds Commando.

***

Lantern gets to feet before just standing there panting for a moment. Black Storm ended up being a tad too strong and he got knocked out of the sky by Black Storm’s gravity powers.

He looks over at Commando, Black Storm and his followers and freezes at what he sees.

All of Black Storm’s followers are down on the ground, but Commando has just dropped to one knee. His fellow Leaguer has smoke coming from his stomach and shoulder and Lantern can smell roasted flesh.

Black Storm lands and acquires one of Commando’s combat knives.

“Die Commando,” hisses the supervillain.

Lantern can’t allow this, he just can’t. Not the death of one of the League of Heroes.

His powers run on willpower and at the moment, Lantern’s will is the only thing keeping upright and awake after the beating Black Storm gave him.

But this is different. When he is particularly determined about something, Lantern has had temporary power boosts before. At the determination to keep his friend alive and stopping Black Storm, something powerful is building up inside him.

“No!” Lantern yells and a beam of white energy bursts from his eyes, going through his visor.

The beam hits the stunned Black Storm straight in the chest, sending him flying into a building across the street. With a resurgence in power, Lantern rises into the air.

Today they won this battle, but not without cost. Commando needs urgent help.

Lantern swoops down and picks up his fallen teammate. Not risking Black Storm or some of his followers finishing the job themselves if he takes Commando to the local hospital, Lantern flies Commando to the hospital in Coventry.

He quickly returns to the Birmingham’s former city hall, but by that time, Black Storm and his followers are long gone.

Why can I shake the feeling I have just fought a battle in a greater war?

1.10 Ancient Warriors Part 10

Our merry band of superpowered beings attracted as much attention as one might expect as we strolled about London.

I couldn’t tell who attracted more stares, the superheroes or the knights. The Camelotians were more unusual, but we Leaguers were more recognisable.

The press and paparazzi also followed us around, taking photos where they could, but nobody tried to stop us for questions or get in our way. At least nobody was that dumb. It would have been annoying to deal with them.

If the press keeps this up, they might get back on my good side.

Normally I might have minded about being chased around like this by them, but as we’re technically on state business or whatever the term, we got nothing to hide or worry about. Camelot won’t care about any bad press anyway.

We visited several landmarks, including Big Ben, the London Eye, the Tower of London, Buckingham Palace, Trafalgar Square and the Invasion Memorial.

“The city is most interesting,” notes Sir Brock, “It is much larger than Camelot.”

“I thought Camelot was a magical kingdom,” replies Lantern, clearly expecting further explanation.

I decide to might as well grant it to him.

“It is, but it’s basically in a sub-dimension of the Isles with waypoints that allow people to switch with one of the two dimensions they are in,” I explain, “Camelot has three meanings. First if the Kingdom of Camelot, the second is the castle in which the Knights of the Round Table reside in at the centre of the Kingdom and the third is the town that has sprung up around the castle. Sir Brock is referring to that last one and he is correct as the town is simply the size of a town.”

“Sentinel is correct Lantern,” Sir Brock confirms my own statements, “This city is many times the size of our town, but we have several landmarks our own.”

Sam starts to speak again, but I’m distracted as I hear a phone ringing. It takes me a moment to place it as it not coming through the armour before I realise the source.

Daniel Griffin’s phone aka my handheld communicator.

“Route to my armour and answer,” I whisper to my armour before telling the others, “I got to take a call.”

“Hello?” I say as I answer the call.

“Daniel?” replies my Dad, “Where are you?”

“Out with Sam, James and Sky,” I reply, turning off by armour’s PA so I can keep my conversation secret, “I already told you that this morning.”

“I know, but,” says Dad, but he hesitates.

“Is this about the tracking chip you put in the phone that I never use?” I inquire pleasantly.

“What the- How do you know about that?” demands Dad, “And why don’t you use it?”

“You just brought another phone when I already had a more advanced one that I have customised and modified to my liking,” I tell him, “So of course I don’t use an inferior device. Also, I found the tracking chip I decided to upgrade the phone you got me.”

“Damn it,” curses Dad, “It’s your sister.”

My heart stops. Metaphorically of course. If had really stopped, my armour’s life support would have kicked in.

“What happened?” I demand.

“She and one of her friends were going through one of the bad areas of town,” answers Dad, “I don’t why or what they were thinking by doing so, but they got jumped by some thugs from what they said. Beat them up a bit and stole their bags. Lily is currently in hospital. Nothing major fortunately.”

“Any idea on who did it?”  I ask, my voice hardening.

“None,” replies Dad, “Probably just some scum getting the drop on a pair of young girls. Your mother and I could really use you back here while now.”

“I’m sort of busy, but I could get home quickly if you wanted,” I say.

“No, its fine,” says Dad in a weary voice, “Just get home as quick as you can.”

“Okay, I’ll try and quicken things, but I’ll still be a while,” I tell my Dad before ending the call.

“Darn it,” I curse out loud, causing the others to look at me.

“What happened?” asks Sam.

“Back home some thugs jumped my sister,” I whisper so any bypassers can’t overhear, “In hospital. Going to deal with it when we get back and can’t do it as this me.”

“Need any help?” offers Sky.

“Maybe,” I mutter, “I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do right now. I do want to get home as soon as possible.”

I take a deep breath and think for a moment. The Sentinel can’t do anything to help Lily Griffin without causing even more trouble. It’ll be up to Daniel Griffin to aid his sister.

But that doesn’t mean the Sentinel can’t give Daniel Griffin a bit of help under table that no one will ever know about.

“Janelle,” I whisper.

“Yes?” comes the reply from the alien AI.

“My sister and her friend were attacked and robbed,” I tell her, “Find out who did covertly so I can deal with them later.”

I get Janelle’s okay and cut the connection,

The rest of the visit goes well, but I leave after a couple of hours and fly on home. I just couldn’t focus while I was worrying about my little sis.

But Janelle made my day a lot better the moment she told me that she has the information I requested.

1.10 Ancient Warriors Part 9

As the guru of wisdom amongst our merry band, I chose the Great Lion as our choice of destination.

An isolated location that specialises in serving the weird and unusual people, it seemed ideal. And we wouldn’t stand out too much either.

Even then, a wizard, two superheroes, two knights and a guy in power armour still attract attention and stares.

When I was last here a few weeks ago with James, Sky and Narszara, the pub was nowhere as near as busy as it is today.

There are at least twenty people at the Great Lion today, maybe thirty. Mostly supers with their families for a meal. Not surprising as we got here at the start of lunch and as is the case with ourselves, all of the kids aren’t in school today, even if it isn’t the weekend.

No other superheroes today though.

“Is this staring unusual?” inquires Sir Brock.

“The answer is relative,” I answer, “A normal person wouldn’t get this sort of attention, but we’re not normal people. For the people in our group, this is sort of the attention you would expect to get.”

“So it isn’t normal, but it is normal for us,” says Sir Brock as he sips his apple Tango.

“Correct,” I reply, “So where would you lot like to visit after this.”

“I have never visited London before,” says Sir Brock, “None of us have left Camelot before.”

“I don’t live in London so I can’t tell what good places to visit are,” I tell him, “If we were back in Hampshire, I could tell you the sights and the best places to go.”

“Same for me if you were visiting Camelot,” replies Sir Brock as I think about my options for a moment.

I glance over at the others. Dame Etheldreda and Skyler are chatting away and more combat-orientated subjects over your average girl talks. Evan and Sam are discussing something with each other. Evan did have Sir Brock backing him against Sam, who made up for it with vigorous enthusiasm.

“I could display a tourist guide on my HUD and follow that?” I suggest.

“What is a HUD?” inquires Sir Brock.

“Acronym for Heads Up Display,” I reply, “Basically it displays the information about my armour where I can see it. I can also use it to display other information, such as messages or electronic records.”

“Can my visor do that?” asks Sam, leaning towards us.

“Sure,” I reply, “It works via conscious thought orders. Think about it doing something and it’ll make it happen if it can. And you have to direct that order at the visor for it to be pick it up.”

“How does that work?” asks Sir Brock.

“A complicated mechanism that my Granddad came up with after he had retired from field work,” I explain, “Something he got inspired by some alien tech he encountered in some foreign part of space.”

“I would like something like that,” says Sky. Both she and Evan have also decided to join our conversation and I notice Dame Etheldreda  watching us as well.

“I could probably add some eye pieces to the League costumes that have HUDs,” I answer him, “I’ll put it on my to-do list.”

“How long is your to-do list?” inquires Sky.

“Not that long,” I say somewhat defensively, “I just got to fix the Lightweight suit and upgrade my main armour with grappling hooks. I’m also building a spare set of my main armour and some armour for Narszara. Magnetic boots and laser tasers are also on it. I’m also trying to work with artificial gravity as an alternative means of flight. The rocket pack is good, but a little dated these days.”

“Laser tasers?” asks James.

“Taser guns that use lasers to aim and hit their target rather than projectiles like our current lasers,” I say simply, “I want to get those working before anyone else. Granddad got the patent for the concept a few years back, but never finished any design before his death.”

“Hey it works!” exclaims Sam, “I can’t believe I haven’t discovered this before.”

“Of course it works,” I retort, rolling my eyes even though none of them can see it beneath my armour, “If you read the manuals-”

“There are manuals?” interrupts Sky, “For what?”

“The League’s equipment,” I finish, “I would have told you that if you hadn’t interrupted so quickly. Just be thankful we don’t have training manuals and operational procedures like most of the superhero teams have.”

“Do we even have procedures?” asks Sam.

“Sure we do,” I reply, “Just the stuff our grandparents taught us. No swearing in costume, keeping civilian and costume identities separate and the other stuff like that. Just the things we learnt as we grew up. Not many heroes have our sort of upbringing have to learn once they join a team. Plus unlike the majority of teams in the world, we lack any oversight, be it government or sponsorship.”

“Granddad used to complain about all the restrictions he had whilst he was on government business compared to when he was doing League stuff,” notes Sky.

“Right,” I agree as I stand up, “We have all finished our drinks now. I think we should visit the most iconic landmarks first such as Big Ben and the London Eye.”

1.10 Ancient Warriors Part 8

Just like Adalbern, Sir Gawain of Camelot is an impressive sight. Unlike the German President in his suit, he looks like what one would expect of him, a knight in shining armour.

He is almost as tall as Adalbern, an impressive feat considering that Adalbern is over eight feet tall, and is encased in a suit of magitek power armour. It is sleek and smooth and looks like a set of plate armour as it doesn’t need mechanisms that are required by power armour.

Normally I would compare suits of armour to my own, but I can’t help, but notice the similarities of Camelot armour compared to the armour used en masse by the Knights Hospitaller.

The Knight Hospitaller use powered armour that has a closer resemblance to modern ballistic armour while the armour used by the Camelotians is magically enchanted plate armour. The Hospitaller helmets are similar to great helms and the Knights have their order’s symbol on their chests, the Knights of Camelot have Barbute helmets and have personalised crests.

The Knights of the Round Table have also come armed. A broadsword is sheathed at Gawain’s side and a large heater shield, made of a strong, lightweight and magical alloy, is on his back. I’m barely able to glimpse Sir Gawain’s coat of arms on the shield.

I have no doubt that both have been magically enchanted just like Sir Gawain’s armour nor that Sir Gawain could wield that blade with ease with only one hand. He does have superstrength after all.

While his power set is very similar to Adalbern’s, Sir Gawain just doesn’t quite reach the same level of power. Unlike his German counterpart, the Knight can’t walk off a bomb despite his nigh-invulnerability. Neither is he as strong and his senses aren’t quite as developed. And unlike Adalbern, Sir Gawain appears to be slowly aging over time, if only by a couple of months each century.  

His entourage is following him whilst Narszara is in her old armour, chatting to Sir Gawain.

I can easily spot the wizard Narszara mentioned. He is wearing purple robes over more simple clothes and his hood conceals his facial features from sight, but I can make out some short black hair and possibly brown eyes.

The wizard is talking to mildly beefy male Knight, who has a simple sword at his waist and a round shield strapped to his back. Through his helmet, I can see a smiling and happy face.

Just off to their side is another Knight of the Round Table, an amazonian woman. She must be the one Narszara mentioned to have the ability to shapeshift into a werewolf.

At a glance, she is the most unusual. Her arms are bare of armour and a giant greatsword is resting against her back. No way would it fit at her side. Her eyes are yellow like a wolf’s and her hair goes down past her shoulders in a silver mane of tangled hair.

At the sight of Adalbern, a feral smirk appears on her face.

“Adalbern, ye beast,” laughs Sir Gawain, “A pleasure to see you again.”

I can see that Sir Gawain is still speaking in Old English as always. Of course that is what he grew up speaking so complaining he speaks like that would like complaining if an American speaks with an American accent or Australian spoke with an Australian accent.

“I see you brought a retinue with you as usual,” notes Adalbern, “And this must be the Narszara who Sentinel has been telling me so much about. We must cross blades someday shieldmaiden.”

“It would be a pleasure Eldar-Thariloth Adalbern,” answers Narszara and she bows before the immortal president.

“So will we be needed?” asks Sam, “Or can we go? I would much rather avoid politics if nothing interesting is going to happen.”

“And by nothing interesting, Lantern means everyone getting along and talking out any differences in a peaceful and reasonable manner,” says James, “He’d be all for staying if there was going to be shouting, conflict and hostility.”

“That’s the only side of politics that interests me,” Sam agrees with a grin and Britannia sighs.

“You could escort Sir Gawain’s retinue about London?” offers Adalbern, “I doubt they wished to be involved with politics as much as the rest of you. Britannia, Warden, my guards and whoever your Prime Minister brings should be enough protection and it would be better if the Camelotians have guides to help them avoid getting into any trouble.”

“Wilt thy proposal be acceptable?” asks Sir Gawain, “I mainly brought mine retinue out of tradition. It would be of the best if they were able to explore this city with ye as escorts.”

“Eh,” shrugs Sam, “Why not? It sounds like fun.”

“Sure,” says Skyler, “I never enjoyed politics.”

“I would much rather hang around,” admits James, “I quite enjoy the intrigue of politics.”

“I’ll go with them,” I say, “With Lantern and Commando, they’ll need a sane head to keep them away from any trouble.”

“If it please you milord, I would rather stay with this group,” asks Narszara, “I would like to speak with both Gawain and Adalbern.”

“Sure,” I tell her with a wave of my hand, “Don’t start any fights.”

“Just be back before the day is over,” says Britannia, “The Prime Minister and the other government officials will wish to speak with you. Make your acquaintance and all.”