	The clink of metal being smashed into metal resonates throughout the field. Every fresh Stonehall recruit is hard at work perfecting their swings, even under the blazing sun. It had seemed fun at first, sign up, get some pay, take it easy, then weasel on out and use the training in a local job. And then war was declared and the Commander has everyone, you included, training nonstop to prepare.
	The sun's heat continues to beat down on you, your back so drenched in sweat you can feel the fibers of your uniform melding with your skin. Taking a deep breath, you throw yourself back into your stance and go for another swing on the practice dummy, hands firm around your practice halberd. But the swing falls short, the blade hitching into the ground and kicking up dirt instead of hacking into the damaged wood of the dummy. "Here, let me help Soldier." Suddenly the hot light on your back gets replaced by the chill of cold plate, a shiver running along your spine. And firm arms come down from either side of you, moving where your grip is on the practice weapon. Tresdin, your commanding officer, is pressed up against your back, having taken a personal interest in your practice.
	Honestly, the shift in your stance really helps offset the heavy weight of the pole-arm. "Now lets try swinging like this!" Tresdin's voice rings through your ears, instilling you with enough strength to swing again. This time the blade embeds itself ruthlessly into the aged wooden dummy. "Hm, good work Soldier." The cold metal separates itself from your back, and you can feel two hands patting your shoulders "Just try to remember that grip." Coming in and out of contact with that nice cooled metal makes your body shiver one last time. Your Commander notices this as well "Under the weather Soldier? We can't have a sick force, I'll take you to the infirmary."
	Before you can even voice your dissent two strong arms lift your body up into a princess carry. Looking up, you can see Tresdin's tanned face, gazing confidently ahead as she marches you to the infirmary. As cold as her armor is, you can spot some telltale drops of sweat sliding down her face, the blazing hot sun causing each drop to sparkle. Even if her armor isn't padded, or this is the most masculine way to be carried, it's pretty comfortable to be carried like this by her... 
	So wrapped up in these thoughts you don't even feel the cool shade come over you as Tresdin enters the medical complex. Coming to a stop, she sets you down on a surprisingly soft bed "Enjoy the luxury while you can Soldier... I'll be coming back in later to check on you." Lying down on the bed you watch Tresdin stride off, each of her steps causing a loud clink as her armored boots meet the floor. Something comes to mind though, you aren't even sick...