A high ranking soldier of the Kidellian military is ordered to take the long route where he encounters a pair of twins in need of assistance.

I don't have much to say for this one, it was just a little practice session :D

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Roadblock
By: Cheese

The vast Skyshire forest is the only home of the skyshire redwoods, fittingly named over their reddish bark and record height. These trees dominate the forest, rendering all other trees few and far between, yet the flora below is dense. These trees have become a staple of Kidell; one of the many reasons to try yet fail to visit. This forest critically splits the Kidellian island in half; placing the capital alone in the east, with the rest of civilization to the west. However, the single road scampering through the forest remains quiet, a result of the much quicker and more efficient train line running under the forest. Much like the rest of Kidell, it’s a very humid place to be, creating a soldering environment fit for frying eggs.

Within the military ranks of Kidell are the Guardians; elite soldiers trained to be flawless at a primary task, efficient at others. They aren’t to wear traditional bullet-proof vests or other typical soldier armour, though, instead forging their own more traditional, medieval-style armour, forged to perfection. Make no mistake; their armour is just as effective.

Along the road trekking the gap between east and west Kidell is a black sedan, driving as fast as is safe. In the driver’s mind. Behind the wheel is a fox, stereotypical orange fur covering his body apart for the black-furred hands and feet. He’s a member of the aforementioned Guardian branch, by the name of Tilt, begrudgingly in full matte-black armour with thin stripes of dark red where plates end and a strengthened fabric bridges gaps. Uncomfortable as he is sitting in a compact sedan designed for a lack of armour, he’s just following orders. Making the journey slightly more bearable is an online radio, playing soft classical.

His sword lies blade down in the passenger seat, fully concealed by its recently cleaned black-leathered sheath, a buckle coloured the same as his armour’s accents. Next to that is his gun; a black desert eagle, silencer attached to muffle its screams.

As he rounds a blind turn, he’s forced to slam on the brakes, stopping just before hitting a downed tree. Thankfully not a skyshire, for a tree that massive would cause the road’s destruction. It was on the smaller side of trees, but still large enough that the two identical gray-furred wolves—likely twins—seemed unable to move. An older style blue utilitarian truck was on the other side, stopped in the opposite lane. As the twins noticed the abrupt stop of the sedan, they stepped back, heaving.

The fox watched the situation, sighing. “I don’t have time for this…” Grabbing his sword, he stepped out of the sedan, clipping the sheath to his left side. “You two need help?” He asked, forcing a cheerful tone through his lips. Both twins are wearing near identical outfits, black sweatpants and gray sweaters, unfitting for the humidity. The only difference between them is that one has a red hat.

The closer twin smiles wearily as Tilt leaves the sedan, eyes tracing over the armour’s sharp edges. “That would be great!”

The twin with the hat on the truck’s side watched the guardian’s approach closely, hand slipping in and out of her sweater pocket. Doesn’t seem empty. “We’ve been stuck here for hours…” Her eyes flick back to the truck.

Tilt’s head shifts to the side, looking over both twins; “Hours? Do either of you need water?”

The hatless twin shakes his head. “Oh, no. We brought plenty, thanks.”

“We tried to call someone, but we can’t get any service out here,” the other says, holding her phone up.

“That’s unfortunate.” The guard moves the last few meters to the twins, sizing up the tree as he does. Out of curiosity, he looks out into the woods, thick skyshire trunks blocking most of his view. Vague tire tracks are visible through thick brush heading into the woods, plants seeming to have been pushed over by something big and heavy. Like a car. “What are you looking to do in the capital, if I may ask?”

“Oh—”

The hat twin interrupts with an excited smile, “We’re looking to sell stuff! We like to make trinkets out of stuff we find.”

Tilt looks to the truck’s bed, not seeing anything over the sides. “Ah, you two have a stall in tomorrow's festival?”

“Uh-” There’s hesitation in her mind, before replying, “Yes!” glancing at her twin. “But this tree is making things difficult…”

“Hm. Certainly an issue,” Tilt replies, gaze growing tight. “May I see your wares?”

The twins look between each other; they both nod. “Sure!” She leads Tilt to the back of the truck, reaching for the handle. The other twin stays behind Tilt all the while, hand in his sweater pocket with his fading smile.

As the handle is pulled, releasing the latch in a loud clunk, Tilt’s mind fills with the vision of a wolf’s arm swinging up to his exposed neck. His arm comes up to block the twin’s slice, gauntlet grabbing his wrist and slinging him down in a grunt of pain, head landing just beyond the pavement onto the soft dirt.

Before the sister could turn around with a knife in hand, Tilt had already reached into her pocket and threw the knife away, using his trained strength to push her against the truck. The wolf on the ground forces himself up, but he stops at the sight of a bright white curved blade directly at his face, his only backup pushed up against his escape route. The blade is cloudy like marble, cracks of black climbing through it. “You both are staying here.”

Tilt returns the Katana to its leather casing, lifting the same hand to his collar where he presses a button. His head turns away from the twins and speaks silent words; “Meza here. Small holdup; I need a police transport for two, and a tow for a blue truck.”

He nods, “Make it quick,” still silent.

Once the police have arrived and properly restrained the twins, he trails the tracks into the forest, following it as it scuttles through the thick foliage. It slowly opens up to a hole, accompanied by some similarly sized barren plots of dirt. He returns to the police and informs them of his find, but he can’t stay any longer, still has that damned surprise briefing to be late for.