Leaving Darienna's office with a smile on her lips, Lillian Tremina was glad to be back in Tar Valon.  It had been eight months this time, spent abroad in different lands with the last three spent in the Borderlands before returning home.  The period was probably one of the reasons that she received so many glances as she made her way through the Tower to the ground level, sisters who hadn't seen her in quite some time surprised by her unannounced return.  She even spoke to a few, though she didn't spend overlong with each sister.  She had someone specific that she wanted to see, had only kept in touch with through the occasional letter sent every month or so when she could, and hadn't been able to hear from because she had been moving too much from one place to another.

Sial Daemoa, her mentee, student, and in some ways more though that was more on her part than Sial's.  Lillian had students before, both as an Accepted and as an Aes Sedai, but Sial had proven to be different.  Why, Lillian couldn't have said, or perhaps she didn't want to.  If she had wanted to, she probably could have been able to divine what it was that seperated Sial from others, but she preferred it to be different and mean more simply because it did without trying to break it down into its base parts.

Receiving another glance as she exited the Tower, Lillian had to admit to herself that her unexpected appearance wasn't the only reason she was getting looks.  Indeed, her appearance was as much of a reason as its unexpected nature.  When she served on the Blightborder, she made a habit of trading in the dress for breeches and wearing a sword at her side.  She could count the times she'd actually had to use her sword on the border on one hand, but she wasn't one to leave things to chance either.  Besides, it was a comforting weight to have at one's side or on one's back.

Entering the building that housed the Novices and Accepted, Lillian knew the path that she was walking all too well, a path that she'd been thinking about walking for the past couple of weeks.  Not only because she wanted to see Sial again, but because she had something for her that was contained in the small box that she carried in her left hand.  It had taken her long enough to make, she just hoped that the gift was something that her student would like.

Stopping before the door, Lillian took a slight breath before quickly shoving the door open and calling "Surprise!"

But the face that turned from a desk wasn't Sial's.

Surprised as the face that looked to her, Lillian couldn't help but blurt.  "Where is Sial?"

Lillian Tremina

Sister of the White Ajah

Listening to Miya as she spoke of her problem, something that Darienna hadn't foreseen, she took a moment to wrap her mind around it and to think of what to say.  She certainly wasn't going to bite Miya's head off for speaking up, she preferred her Novices and Accepted to be open with her.  Well, as long as it wasn't something ridiculously stupid, but even then that was part of her job and this certainly wasn't stupid.  It was also important for more than just the letter, Darienna hadn't thought that Miya's six months at the Tower had truly worn away at her so.  After all, she hadn't given much of a sign of it before, and Darienna prided herself on being able to pick up on such things.

"You never intend to tell a lie, you always tell the truth.  As men are oft to say, the truth an Aes Sedai tells may not be the one that you hear.  It is usually said with scorn, to say that Aes Sedai are manipulative liars who can even twist an oath of truth on its head.  But it is a skill that can be used compassionately as easily as it can to manipulate, the skill in itself isn't necessarily a bad thing, it is how you choose to use it that determines what it is.  To tell a loved one a truth without telling them the entire truth is still truth, yet it is done to protect them rather than harm."

Waiting a moment to allow Miya a chance to process the thought, Darienna continued.  "But I am surprised that you would feel the need.  You have no reason to be ashamed of your studies, your progress with your literacy alone is a worthy achievement after but six months.  What pains you so that you do not wish to share it with your parents and family?  Don't be afraid to speak freely, I'm not about to take your head over something that is troubling you."

Her concern clear in her tone, Darienna set aside her tea on the table and leaned forward, her hands folded together on the table.  She wanted to hear what Miya had to say, if she knew what the problem was then maybe she could address it.

Darienna Ceradin

Mistress of Novices

Frowning as she heard a knock at the door, Darienna set her quill aside as she looked up at the door.  Hopefully it was the girl that she had been expecting, Miya, because if it wasn't she was going to be somewhat put out.  For the entire day, she had not been able to get more than fifteen minutes at a time without someone knocking on her door, be it Novices or Accepted who had done the wrong thing or sisters that needed to speak to her about one thing or another.  Of the former, she'd had four malcontents walk through her door, at most she had one a week, she didn't mind a couple but four in a day was ridiculous.  If it was a fifth that was walking through her door, she was going to have to make a point to all her Novices and Accepted in order to make sure such behaviour was curtailed.

"Come in."

It was a smile that came to Darienna rather than harsh words as the door opened to reveal Miya, someone she was actually prepared to set aside her work for.  Well, except for the instruction of the girl was her work to begin with.  It had been slow going at first, but she had made steady progress once the fundamentals were covered, she wasn't a dunce.  A good thing, because today was going to be a special day because they had a completely different project ahead of them.  Every lesson had been learning letters and words, practicing the writing of sentences and the exercise of reading.  Now, after six months, Miya was going to do something quite different indeed.

Gesturing to the pair of chairs on the other side of the table as she always did, Darienna was already getting the tea for the both of them.  A simple enough ritual, they started their lessons with it because it was always in the afternoon.  Something was needed to pick them up, particularly Miya though she was getting better used to the pace of things as the months went by.  Less than a minute and the pot was boiled as Miya finished explaining how her day had been so far, another ritual.  Pouring them both a cup, Darienna took them up and handed the Novice her cup before sitting at her chair once more.

Taking a sip of her tea, she opened a drawer and retrieved a couple of pieces of paper that she then handed to Miya, though the sheet of sentences to read and copy was conspicuously absent, something Darienna explained as she reclined back in her seat.  "Today you are going to do something different.  You've come along quite well, and I think you are ready to make an attempt at writing a letter."

The confused look on Miya's face broadened Darienna's smile.  "I assume you want to let your parents know how you are doing?  When your letter is done, we'll go over it and make sure the spelling is right, and I'll make sure that it is sent tomorrow."

"If you would like to write home that is.  If not, we could always do something else."

Darienna Ceradin

Mistress of Novices

Watching from her place at the top of the steps that led into the White Tower, Darienna puffed on her pipe patiently as she waited for the new arrival.  Normally she would be busy in her office, or taking a class, or otherwise occupying herself, but she had decided to take a bit of time to simply be.  Sometimes it was simply good to be able to stand outside, let the morning sun cast its gaze upon you and smoke a particularly fine bit of tabac.  It might have gotten some looks from the line of petitioners that ran to one side of the great steps, but all that did was amuse Darienna.  It was difficult to feel self conscious after having lived at least one lifetime, and she had no reason to.  It wasn't as if a pipe was that unusual, even if one didn't as a rule see an Aes Sedai with one.

Of course, that wasn't the only reason that she was standing out on the steps of the White Tower.  She'd also been informed that a new prospective Novice was to be delivered in the morning, it was a good excuse to stretch her legs and stand about and have a smoke, so it worked well for her.  It was a nice break from overlooking reports of student performance in different classes, discipline issues and budgeting.  Budgeting was the worst of it as far as she was concerned, people seemed to think that being the Mistress of Novices was just about switching people who had been bad.  If only it were so simple, not that she bothered with switching to begin with, there were many more creative ways to discourage bad behaviour and train good behaviour.

Such thoughts passed as she espied Marian Sedai and her charge, lightly tanned and perhaps a touch over average height, the girl's hair had a coppery tone in the sun.  She seemed nice enough from her look, certainly no sourness there, maybe some trepidation or so it seemed as the girl was left at the bottom of the steps.  Waiting for Marian to approach, Darienna's expression was neutral as her sister spoke to her quietly so others couldn't overhear.

"It is good to see you.  The girl has been tested, though I cannot gauge what her full potential might be.  Her name is Kirjava Daemora, an Andoran girl I picked up just outside of Caemlyn, no more than eighteen years old."

"Eighteen?  Light, you are lucky you found her when you did."

"We all are."

"True.  I'll take her from here, I will see you over the next couple of days as you settle back in?"

"Of course."

Nodding to her, Darienna waited for a moment as Marian walked by her and into the Tower before proceeding down the steps.  The girl seemed more nervous for it, but that wasn't unexpected, this was a new thing for her, as it was for every new initiate.  Taking the pipe from her mouth with her left hand, her right reached out and clasped the girl's left arm as Darienna spoke.  "Welcome to the White Tower, Kirjava Daemora.  I am Darienna Sedai, the Mistress of Novices and I oversee the education of all Novices and Accepted within the White Tower, of which you are to become the former."

"Come."  Squeezing the girl's arm gently before releasing it, Darienna turned and led the way up the steps for Kirjava to follow as she spoke over her shoulder.  "You must have questions, what would you like to know?"

Darienna Ceradin

Mistress of Novices

Con was silent as he contemplated what had been said, this was a Red Ajah plan alright and no bare bones about it.  It didn't take much to see where it was leading, not only for observation of how a male channeler developed their powers, but perhaps a pair of eyes inside the Black Tower to go with it.  While he was wedded to an Aes Sedai, that Aes Sedai was no longer strongly affiliated with the White Tower much like his own wife.  Perhaps there was more to it, most likely there was, but if it was there to be seen then he couldn't see it.  Regardless, he didn't like the idea and furthermore he was surprised at Telcia for having agreed to it to begin with, especially after everything they had been through.

But, perhaps in that unknown there was a reason for this that made it worthwhile.  Telcia normally knew what she was doing, though there were plenty of times where she had to be pulled up from doing something that wasn't terribly well thought out.  This still didn't feel like a good idea, but it wouldn't end with him.  If he refused to teach Iussi, Iussi would simply go and get another instructor.  At least he could monitor the man himself, maybe he could go and ask one of the Asha'man in the city if they were still about for more details.  Make sure the man didn't go bat crazy in his home.

First of all, he needed to give the man something to do, a first step in learning how to harness the Flame and the Void.  Knowing Iussi, it was going to be a bit more difficult than the usual student, but maybe his attention span had improved with time.  Doubtful, but if it had improved it would make things easier, and that would be fine as far as Con was concerned.  Perhaps something simple, something visual so it would help Iussi's focus later.

"Go inside.  Do be starting the fire in the hearth, then I do be wanting you to be sitting down infront of it.  Do be focusing only on the flame, no be paying attention to anything else.  If anyone do be asking what you be doing there, just be telling them that I do be putting you there.  Flames, just be watching them and be staying there until I do be coming to get you, regardless of how long I be."

Con Stavros

Caving in

I wish I had an example to work off :P  Alright, see how this pitch goes:

White Ajah - An Accepted and a White Sister are in a situation where the Accepted can observe or even learn some of the basic skills of a White Sister.  Be it determining the truth amidst the lies of others, solving some puzzle or conundrum, developing or ripping apart an argument, these are just some of the situations where White Ajah skills can be demonstrated.  In the process of this, an established assumption on the part of the Accepted must be brought into question, regardless of whether the assumption is correct or incorrect the Accepted will have to think on that assumption.

May as well wait so you have the extra info.

Well, those were things of value, it certainly had Fakhir's attention.  Not so much the free time as the discount, the discount was more useful in the long run and she did know what she was doing.  Not that there weren't others to be had, but one in her condition was worth keeping in mind.  And he had told himself that he might make her a regular port of call as such, once he was settled in and he was settling in easily enough.  But it would all depend on the outcome of the match ahead and how he was feeling after it was done.  One thing at a time, there was no changing the bet now that it was made.

"We'll see what happens."  Most bets were made by now, it was time to get started.  Squatting beside his things, he quickly got out a silver mark and then thought twice and took a second one.  Closing the pouch up and leaving her with his things, Fakhir made his way into the clearing in the middle of the tavern where tables and chairs had been pulled away, leaving a good fifteen feet of circumference in space.  The pair of men watching him, he didn't pay any attention to them as he spoke to the last of the trio that wasn't in the fight, calling across the crowd as he raised his two silver marks up.

"Howabout we make this interesting and just call it at two silver marks?  And you, yes the Red Arm there.  Whats your name?  Toram?  Toram, you'd be good enough to hold the bets for the pair of us?  Excellent, and you're fine with this?  Good, give him your silver marks then."

Handing Toram his own pair, Fakhir turned back to the pair that he was to confront.  The fat one had a bit of bulk, maybe try and use that to get him off balance while the other one took advantage.  Or maybe it'd be a feint, but regardless he was going to have to try and shut one of them down early so he could turn on the other.  At least it wasn't to the death, simple rules to be found here.  Someone was out when they were knocked unconscious or called for mercy, or if they couldn't call out they tapped the floor or opponent repeatedly.  Simple enough.

There was no one to call for it to begin, they simply lifted their arms and that was it as the spectators cheered, encouraging someone to strike the first blow.  The pair seperated, that was expected as they tried to move either side and leave him in the middle, least able to defend himself for to defend against one was to ignore the other.  He could have waited, but that would have been folly, so instead he launched himself at the nearest man, the fat one.

His first punch caught by the man's guard, the second wasn't nearly so lucky as the blow slipped by an arm and caught the man just above the eye, sending him reeling back into the crowd even as a fist smashed into the side of his head.  Reeling back himself, Fakhir caught the next punch with both hands, latching onto the arm and ignoring the next punch that broke his nose, he kicked the man's ankles out from under him.  Letting go as the man fell sideways to the ground, if the man had thought his ankle hurt, it was quickly forgotten as he put the steel tip of his toe into the man's sternum.

Winding the man even as the iron taste of Fakhir's own blood reached his tongue, a second kick caught the man just under his arm as he rolled over in pain, knocking him the other way.  It was then that an arm snaked around his throat while a fist connected with his kidneys.  The roar of pain cut off as the fat man attempted to strangle him, Fakhir fought through the pain of a second punch as he brought the heel of his boot down on the arch of the man's right foot.  He didn't know if he'd broken anything, but it was enough to loosen the hold on him, and enough of a chance for him to reach for the fingers of the hand that was on his shoulder and rip them back with a brutal savagery that must have come within an inch of breaking them.

Using the group to twist the man's arm about, a kick to the back of the man's knees put him down to pray, and Fakhir didn't hesitate to lay in with his boots.  The ribs, the thighs, anywhere that it would hurt.  To his credit, the man managed to hang on rather than give up, long enough for his companion to crash into Fakhir's back, sending all three of them to the ground.  Trying to get to his feet, someone was quick to leap onto his back, long enough for the other to latch onto an arm.

Blows that couldn't be blocked landing on his back as their combined weight held him down, he managed to snake an arm free and that was enough.  Using it to push against the one who had his other arm, the fat one, he freed that as well with the strength that adrenaline lends and using his arms to shield his face and ribs, lashed out with his boot and caught the big one across the jaw, knocking him over where he proceeded to lie there, out of the fight.

The smaller one managing to snake an arm under his while his back was turned and grabbing his good ear to keep his hold and try and pin him down, Fakhir rolled wiht the pressure rather than against, spinning them over so while his back was still to his assailant, he was now ontop of him.  Blows still coming frantically, he unleashed his own, using his free arm to drive an elbow into the man's stomach repeatedly.  He was bigger than the other one, and it was only a matter of time so long as he could hold on, and he had no intention of losing.

The cry of mercy, the release of his ear, the tapping on his back and the roar of the audience was what clued Fakhir into the fact that it was over.  Desisting from his elbows, he was a moment before rolling off the other man onto his hands and feet.  If it had they'd been allowed to do anything, it would have been over so much quicker.  He would have simply reached over and ripped the man's eyes out, but that wasn't the type of fight they fought.  That was why his back, his ribs, his head and more were throbbing all at once.  But, it was worth it, two silver marks was easily worth weeks of pay, at least on his pay.  Besides, the real pain wouldn't kick in until later, until after it was all said and done.

And was it?  Even as Fakhir collected his winnings, curses and cheers in the air as people exchanged coin, and settled bets and debts, there was the matter of the woman.  Even now, the man who'd made the bet looked sour and he was looking her way.  It'd be so easy to leave it be, it wasn't his fight and that wasn't some self denial, it genuinely wasn't his to deal with.  He'd done his bit, he had his money and they weren't going to come after him anytime soon, especially since they could take out their frustration on her.  Her choice to be what she was, and the target that she was and he definitely didn't feel like another fight.

At the same time, he knew full well that if he didn't do something, the moment the Red Arms were gone that something ugly was going to happen.  It was just the nature of things, but he wasn't going to have much use from her for awhile afterward by the time they were done with her, if at all if she decided to blame him.  Entirely possible, and while it wasn't a big problem, it was a problem because that was one less woman available.

And maybe there was some way to get more out of it.

Walking over to Jatasha and his things, he didn't pay any heed to the look on her face as he carefully squatted down next to his things and retrieved his purse.  Putting the four silver marks in it, he tied it up and paused before looking up at her.  He was sure he wasn't a pretty sight by now, blood was still running from his nose and had run down his lips, chin, neck, all the way down to his breeches.  Black, blue and purple bruises were beginning to mottle him, and he was fairly certain that there was more to it.  But he looked at her nevertheless before coming to a decision.

"You owe me."

Standing, Fakhir grunted as he turned about and held his purse up with one hand, pointing to the man that he'd first made the bet with who had wandered close.  If he was going to do it, he may as well make a show of it.  It'd help provoke if nothing else, and he'd provoked more than enough fights in the past to know that much.

"Hey you!  Dirk tickler!  Yes you!"

That got his attention, and that of others who were nearby, though it might have had more to do with the pouch in his hand.  "I figure that, because I don't like you and because I'm in such a magnanimous mood, we have a second bet.  You just lost your money and you want some time with the woman here, well maybe I do as well and I don't reckon you have as much money to buy her as I do.  But I'll make you a deal, match up like before, just you and me.  What money you have on you against what I have in here, and its definitely more than what you've got on you.  Whoever wins can have her, sound fair or you too much of a coward?  Huh?  Got the grapes or you got nothing to show?"

It was predictable where it would lead and the response that the challenge would get.  It had little to do with the insults and everything to do with the coin, it would be weeks worth of pay in one hit, and Fakhir knew that the condition he was in was a tempting one if the man had any reservations about his ability.  He'd already fought two men, simultaneously, he was easier pickings now.

"To the Pit of Doom with you bloody veil wearing bastard and burn you for a fool, if you want to be smashed into the floor then I won't deny you.  Hey Red Arm, here is my pouch, take it.  Go on, give him your money and we'll get started."

Barking an ugly laugh as he walked over to the Red Arm and handed over his money, a storm of betting proceeded to take the occupants of the tavern as the centre cleared again.  The other two idiots had since been cleared away, the smaller one hauling the bigger one off the side as he was being revived, though he didn't seem to know where he was or be able to do much beyond move his head and limbs erratically.  He'd be better once he actually came out of the daze, probably, but that wasn't a real concern of Fakhir's.

No, he was more concerned about his new opponent who had nearly stripped down to his breeches and boots.  The other two had been soft as piss, but this one looked different, looked like he knew what he was doing, probably why the others had deferred to him.  Not that it changed Fakhir's mind about what had to be done, it just meant that it was going to take a bit more to do it.  It was going to be done, there was no way that Fakhir intended on losing all the money he'd managed to accrue, not a chance and bugger anyone and their Dark One's luck.

Watching as the man stepped into the circle, Fakhir clenched his fists and raised them before him with his left foot leading.  The other man taking a similar stance, there was silence as the pair circled.  Unlike the first fight, there was a lot more hinging on this one.  People were trying to win their money back, and there was more money involved as a whole.

It lasted until the man took a swing, fist smashing into Fakhir's guard for which he replied with his own knuckles.  Then the cheers and curses rang once more as the pair didn't bother with any fanciness, it was a bloody fight and thats all there was to it as the pair proceeded to pound each other.  Stomach, chest, face, all of these were smashed by their fists even as their knees and feet were put to work.  A knee to the stomach would find a response in an elbow to the face, occasionally a shove seperating the pair before they went back to work on each other with single minded brutality.

A swift upper cut catching his ribs badly, Fakhir almost sank to one knee but instead fell forward and wrapped his arms around his opponent's waist.  An elbow landing on his back, his arms slipped down to the back of the man's thighs as he drove forward, leaving him unable to step back and sending the pair to the ground.  Crawling up the man as the blows continued, Fakhir didn't bother with subtlety as he used his bigger size to help pin the man down as he warded off the blows with a free arm.  Long enough for him to straddle the smaller man so he had both hands to use.

The first blow ploughed right through the other man's pitiful attempt to raise his arms up.  The second smashed through the arms and caught the man's nose, breaking it much like his own was.  The third shimmied off to the side as the man's arms finally set themselves.  Laying into the man's arms instead, battering at them as best he could, he tried to wear the man down enough until he finally gave up.  But the man persisted, holding on as he fended off further blows and taking the punishment that Fakhir dished out.  If he hadn't been fighting the man, he might have admired the tenacity, but he was and he planned to finish the man.

But it wasn't to be just yet.

A sudden right hook knocking him off balance, Fakhir fell to the side even as the other man slithered away out from under him, rewarding him with a boot to the chest as he began to get up.  Back on the floorboards, he was still alert enough to get his legs up in time to catch the other on them who tried to jump on and shove with all of his might and propelling the man out of reach.  Something to buy him enough time to get to his feet and to get his fists up as the other man renewed his attack.

It was like the other man had his second wind.  Where he had been faltering, he was now strong and now Fakhir was beginning to flag and he knew it.  More blows were landing and he wasn't so quick to attack, trying to weather what came as best he could.  Backing away as each blow came, he worked around the circle as the other man followed, as if shaking off the effects of the blows Fakhir had landed on him with each step.

An uppercut clearing him from his feet, his vision blurred as the back of his head smacked the floorboards once more but he managed to hold it together.  Lashing out with his feet, his steel toe caught an ankle and he felt and heard as much as saw the man fall over, and jacknifed as he twisted and kicked with his other foot.  Hitting something, felt like a shoulder, the man went down even as Fakhir scrabbled back a couple of feet.  Getting to his feet as the other did, he knew what was going to happen next as the other man lowered his shoulder.

Holding out his arms as if to catch the other man's tackle, Fakhir dropped to his knees and held out an elbow infront of him, catching the other in the stomach as he almost went over the top.  His free hand already balled into a fist, it was now that he found his own second wind as he delivered a sickening uppercut into his opponent's crotch.

There was no stopping it, and it was what decided it.  Too hurt to shrug it off, the man could do nothing but hunch over before Fakhir reached behind the man's ankles and yanked back, pulling the man off his feet.  Working up him as he had once before, except the blows he'd received before were absent, this time he had the man's arms trapped beneath him as he proceeded to beat the man senseless.  It didn't take long, and by the time it was done, his supporters were already cheering themselves blindly while those who had bet against him were already yelling in disgust at their bad fortune.

Slipping off the man so he was sitting down, it was a moment more before he got to his feet.  There were some bright lights in his vision that had no business being there, though he knew that they would pass.  It was only a few steps to the Red Arm, who thankfully restored his money to him along with that of the man he'd knocked down.  The weight of his own felt right, so he guessed the man hadn't lifted coins from the other one.  Either way, he was ahead, that was what mattered as far as things went.

The clap the man landed on his shoulder in congratulations could have been done without though.  A bit shakey on his feet, he managed to keep his balance as he simply turned about and wandered back to his things, without people getting in his way thankfully.  Stiffling a groan as he squatted by his things, he began to gather them up slowly, using his shirt to wrap it all together.  If he wore the shirt, he was going to get blood all over it, but if he'd been thinking straight he would have realised he had blood on his hands anyway.

Get his things and go, thats what he needed to do, before the ones he'd knocked down could be brought around.  The pair of idiots that were still up, Shibe and Riant, those were their names, would be too busy with their friends to bother him.  Best time to leave, before anything else could happen.

Fakhir Aswasim

Infantry

"I know you, Fakhir Aswasim."

Standing before the desk of Captain Imogen Martel, Fakhir couldn't help but think that it was a waste of time.  Not only because it was over thumping his Sergeant stone cold, which had been entirely well deserved as far as he was concerned.  If the man hadn't been able to back up his shoving and his threats, he shouldn't have been game enough to try it in the first place.  Blustering was always going to be called up on sooner or later, and if it was about the coins that he'd taken, he'd only taken the couple of silver marks that the man bet, not his entire purse.

The woman before him was a different matter.  Imogen Martel was the younger sister of the Banner Captain, and was probably why she held her position in the first place.  Not that she couldn't hold a sword, he'd seen her use it a few times long before he'd ever come to the Band.  Her and her two brothers had been part of the Black Martels, a company of sellswords under the eldest brother Roric, the Banner Captain.  But her as a Captain, he found it difficult to take it seriously and didn't try to begin with.

"I know you too, Imogen, I didn't expect to find you here though.  So, what did you want me here for?"

"You know bloody well know what you're here for.  You assaulted one of my officers and you stole two silver marks from him, infront of your whole squad, and then you expected nothing to happen?  I had you pegged as cunning, not retarded."

Having been called worse, it simply washed over him as he replied.  "He shoved me, told me infront of everyone that he was going to give me a hiding and bet a couple of silver marks on it while he was at it.  I didn't do anything until he came at me, at that point his silver marks were wagered and mine.  Its not like I took his entire purse or lopped off a few of his fingers, he pushed first and if he wasn't able to back up his bluster, thats his problem."

"No, Fakhir, its your problem as of now."  Rolling his eyes as she got to her feet, he simply listened as she continued.  "I'm not going to put up with this, you not only beat him down but you undermined him as well."

"So what?"  He threw a hand up dismissively.  "He's a fat toad and twice as useless, only thing he's good for is the front line so someone can lose their sword somewhere between the pork ribs his munged down and his own.  Not my fault you picked someone who can't hold their own."

"He's your officer and you'll bloody well do as you're told."

"Or what?"

"Or you don't get paid."  That was cold to begin with, but it was followed by more.  "You aren't irreplacable, if you hadn't noticed there are plenty of people coming to sign up, thats why this new Banner was formed.  If you don't like it, wander over to some ditch and die there for all I care, but if you want to see a single coin you'd better shape up."

Not getting paid, that was where it would hurt most.  Sullen as he took a step forward, there was little hiding the bitterness in his tone as he spoke.  "Wouldn't be nearly so brave if you didn't have a hold of the purse strings."

"What was that?"

"I said that you're a cowardly bitch who hides behind the purse strings and that if you didn't have them, you wouldn't be half so bold."

"Oh really?"  Stepping around her table, Imogen lifted a finger at Fakhir as she spoke angrily.  "I'm a coward?  Well here's your chance, rank isn't an issue.  Take your best shot you black veiled whoreson.  I dare you."

Fakhir wasn't one to say no to an opportunity and surged forward, crashing into her and driving her back toward the wall until somehow they swapped places and it was him whose back smashed into it.  A fist barely missing her face as one of her hands found his crotch, he was on his knees within a moment and a barely visible fist smashed him to the ground.

Groaning even as he felt her boot roll him onto his back, Fakhir was at least still able to hear if not quite completely focus on the woman standing over him.  "Remember this you get of a rat and a leprous whore, I am no bloody coward and if you want to prove otherwise, I'll be more than happy to knock your miserable arse to the ground again.  You'll not cause my Sergeant anymore trouble and you'll do as you're bloody well told."

Feeling the foot lift off him, Imogen's voice was no less harsh as she continued.  "Because he started it, I won't dock you the two silver marks you took from him, but this is a one off.  You do something so stupid again over a simple shove and so help me I will put your face through that wall next time.  Now get up, and get out."

A prod from her toe got him moving, as much as everything hurt and the pervading weakness in his limbs from where she had grabbed his jewels he.  Getting to his feet slowly, the best he could manage was a shuffle as he let himself out of her office and staggered outside.  He only made it a few dozen feet before he fell back to his knees though, the nausea from the pain too much as his stomach betrayed him.

Huuuuurk.

Fakhir Aswasim

Infantry

All stupidity, at least as far as Fakhir was concerned.  Then again, whores weren't known for being particularly smart or clever, that was part of why they were whores to begin with, because they weren't able to do any better for themselves, or too lazy to do otherwise.  But, once again, little point in voicing his thoughts, it probably wouldn't be conducive to a possible happy ending to the night if he decided to spend the coin.  Still, he had the mug in his hand to decide whether or not it was going to be happy ending or just a few more mugs and sleep.  Whatever appealed by the time he was done with his mug he guessed.

But, she was still talking, about their first encounter.  "Directions were fine, though I got moved again when I was given another place.  Part of the Black Banner now, pay is lousy but I'm not doing much real fighting I guess beyond training, so its not that bad.  The Sergeant's a fat retard though, and apparently you get in trouble when you pound them into the ground, but whats done is done I guess."  He hadn't been particularly impressed with him at all, but the Captain had turned out to be a touch more inspiring, she at least had been able to back her words up.

He would've said more if it weren't for the three men that decided to park themselves at the table they were at.  It wouldn't have been an issue except for the fact that the three were looking at the pair of them, and didn't seem particularly happy with them.  One was short and fat, much like his sergeant, instant dislike.  Another was a little taller and wiry, still instant dislike.  The last was just a touch shorter than him and looked like he could actually handle himself, still instant dislike, especially when he started speaking.

"You're the one that rolled my friend Shibe and took his money, yes?" 

Looking over to where the man was, another helping him wake up and get to his feet, Fakhir looked to the three and shrugged at them.  "He was roughing up the whore, she's no good to anyone if she's bruised and battered.  How's she meant to put a smile on anyone's face if she can't move too good?  So yeah, I knocked him down and he bought everyone a drink with his coin as a way of apology, whats the problem?"

"There is no problem, as long as you give us your money and the woman so she can apologise to Shibe and Riant over there."

Fakhir barked a laugh, it was an ugly sound.  "Not happening.  Your friend needed to pull his head in, he didn't and he got what he deserved, I am not handing over any coin because of him.  You have got to be joking, bloody five finger special is what that is and it ain't happening."

"Maybe you didn't understand me, there are three of us and one of you, four when Riant comes over."

"Oh, I understand that.  Course, I also understand that the Red Arms just came in."

That made them look, and it wasn't even a ploy.  Half a dozen Red Arms had come in and were armed with cudgels, they weren't going to brook any nonsense, not when it came out of their pay.  But there was a problem, they would follow it up later if it wasn't dealt with now, they might anyway but he needed the chance to finish it.  That and it'd be a good chance to have a fight and maybe more if they were interested.

"Tell you what, I'm feeling sporting.  How much money you got?"

"Why?"

"Match up.  There were one and a half silver marks in that guy's purse thereabouts.  I'll bet it on taking your two friends with no weapons, give you a chance to win it back.  If I win, you can give me that amount in turn."

"Whereabouts?"

"Right here, may as well give the others a chance to bet, and I don't think the Red Arms will have a problem that way, sound fair?"

The man quickly looked to his two companions who gave him the nod.

"Well, go and announce it to everyone then while we three get ready."

As the man stood on his chair and addressed the tavern, Fakhir began to shrug off his things, he only needed his pants and his boots, anything else could be grabbed or get in the way.  Turning to Jatasha as he did so, he kept his words simple.  "Mind my things for me will you?"

Fakhir Aswasim

Infantry

Aware of the fact that Jatasha was staying close to him, Fakhir didn't pay it much mind until the drinks had been bought.  People who might have been unhappy with what had happened had new drinks in their hands to mollify them, and those that wouldn't have cared either way got a free drink out of it.  With that, things were settled as far as he was concerned so he was then free to take a seat at a table, one where Jatasha joined him and gave him her thanks.  He supposed there was little point in telling her the real reason why he'd gone over, though if he'd realised it was her he probably would have.  He might want her services later, and she'd be little good to him if she were all roughed up or worse.

Sipping his drink as she continued on, about how it was handy to find a friendly face in the place, he couldn't help but wonder what had possessed her to come.  Not if she were so concerned about a bruising or worse, it was the sort of place where you were likely to get one or worse.  But, that was the choice she made and she just happened to luck out this time, he certainly wasn't going to be making a habit of it if she were to continue making stupid choices like this place.

"I'm surprised you didn't bring a friend with you, its not like that was unexpected."  Taking another sip of his drink as he stretched his neck from side to side, he continued.  "You'd certainly be better off that way, or at least with a couple of the other women so they could go and get help or deflect the worst of it."

Looking over at the man who was still out cold on the floor, Fakhir turned back to her.  "Someone you know?"

Fakhir Aswasim

Infantry

As far as places to drink went, Fakhir could have probably picked a better place.  But there was a limited amount of choice about the Citadel.  Not so much that there was a shortage of places, but there was a limit when it came to places that a person would be welcome.  Each Banner had at least one place they called home, and the ones that didn't have a patron Banner or Battalion tended to be a mix, much like this one.  The ones that were a mix were fairly sordid to say the least, he hadn't even been around for a week and he'd noticed, but at least he wasn't likely to be bothered and the Red Arms didn't bother so closely with some of the rougher ones unless things got out of hand, which suited him just fine.

A disturbance.

A man and woman wrestling on the floor, not an unusual sight by any means, but there was a good reason for him to wander over there.  The man didn't seem to have any friends, and maybe his coin would come in handy, he wouldn't be in the tavern without a bit of coin after all.  Finishing his mug, Fakhir left it on the table as he got to his feet and meandered over to the pair as they struggled, feeling rather at ease with what was about to follow.

A single boot caught the man in his ribs, hard enough to lift him clear off the woman and to the side where the man rolled onto his back.  A second boot caught the man across his face as he attempted to rise and ensured that the only thing that rose after that was the man's chest as he was knocked unconscious.  Looking over to the woman, Fakhir recognised her easily enough, silly of her but that was the sort of work she had gotten herself into.  But she wasn't the only point of concern for him as he looked, others weren't quite so happy about what he had done.

But he ignored them as he bent down beside the man and, taking the man's own dagger, cut his purse strings free and lifted the purse up for others to see.  It weighed enough that he was pretty sure he'd still come out with a touch of profit, or at least a drink for himself as he asked loudly enough for those nearby to hear.

"Who wants a drink?"

That settled it.

Fakhir Aswasim

Infantry

Sergeant Davies.

Watching as the man walked up and down the line, inspecting them and their equipment, Fakhir had to say that out of all the people he'd met so far, their Sergeant was the least impressive.  For one, he was called a Sergeant, he'd never even come across the rank name before.  Secondly, Davies didn't do much for it, looked like nothing more than a fat sellsword who stayed right up the back and came in only when the battle had already turned.  Well, he probably wasn't all fat, but he was probably used to using his size to intimidate.

It was apparent in the way the man moved, big lumbering steps and he seemed to do all of his thinking with his neck.  Wherever he turned his neck turned with him, like his eyes were lodged there instead of his head.  He looked immaculate, something that might have meant something if he hadn't found out that the man had hired a local lad to take care of all of that for him.  Lazy, thats all that Fakhir could think of the man who was walking by them and was now approaching him.

"What is your name?"

"Fakhir Aswasim."

"Fakhir Aswasim what?"

He couldn't help it, that tiresome sir business was becoming entirely too much, especially when it was being barked at him.  Especially from a fat fool who thought he could push him around with ease just because he had a rank and tried to look like roses but resembled a walking cesspit.  "Fakhir Aswasim the Great."

The laughs that ran through the assembled Squad was telling, even as people tried to rein it in as the man glanced about angrily.  Seemed he was a bit unhappy with what Fakhir had to say, judging from the shove that he gave Fakhir that sent him back a step.  "You a joker?  Think you're funny do you?  I've got a couple of silver marks here that says you won't be laughing so hard after I'm done with you, how funny does that sound?"

Fakhir didn't hesitate when the man reached for him again, as far as he was concerned it was all self defence now.  Grabbing the man's arms with his own and smashing the crown of his head into Davies face, he savagely kicked the man's feet out from under him before the Sergeant knew what was going on and, landing ontop of him, proceeded to lay into him.  It only took three punches and the man was out cold.

Everyone was silent as he reached over to the man's purse and fished out a couple of silver marks.  Normally he would have taken the lot, but normally he'd slit the person's throat as well.  Getting to his feet, he looked to the others, including his own First Private Parika who seemed stunned by what had occured and just shrugged.  "You heard him, he bet a couple of silver marks that I wouldn't be laughing once he was done, and he looks pretty done to me for now."

Laughing to himself, he turned and walked off to go find some place to get some practice in as there wasn't much else to do, and he did so a couple of silver marks wealthier.

Fakhir Aswasim

Infantry

"Lieutenant Morrow sent you?  What did you think of him?"

There was something wrong with this situation as far as Fakhir was concerned.  He was thirty three years old and had years of battle experience under his belt, yet he was now going to be commanded by some boy who hadn't even made two score years.  First Private Parika was easily marked as Arafellian by his braids, and he had a pair of swords strapped to his back, but Fakhir was fairly certain that he could throw the boy down in twenty seconds if it came to it.  He wasn't big enough, strong enough, and probably not quick enough either.

But that wasn't what was asked, what was asked was his opinion of Lieutenant Morrow and Fakhir was happy to speak truthfully.  "He needs to have his head freed from his arse, he talks more muck than a stable of dung flinging trollocs. . . Sir."

"Don't bother with the sir, and you're right.  But, we don't see much of him so its all well and good.  Where did you bunk down?"

"I was led to a barracks that was over there in that direction."

"Pick up your gear from there and bring it over here, I prefer to have all my people in one place.  Besides, we have morning and evening inspections and need to be in the one place for those."

". . . Inspections?"

"Yes, Sergeant Davies inspects us morning and night, our equipment and our clothing is to be presentable at all times and we are to be ready to report whenever needed."

"What does presentable mean?"

"You know, all our clothes must be washed daily, all our weapons and armour have to shine, show that we have pride in ourselves and our platoon."

Up until that point, Fakhir had been willing to give the lad the benefit of the doubt.  The lack of sarcasm in the way the lad spoke destroyed that.  "We do?"

"Of course, thats Sergeant Davies orders."

"Right."  Well, that was going to be fun, not that he had any intention of really following it to the letter.  "I'll just go and get my stuff then. . ."

Fakhir Aswasim

Infantry

"Your name is Fakhir Aswasim?"

"That is what I said."

"That is what I said, sir."

There was a small part of him that wanted to throttle the man before him.  Actually, that was a lie, it was more than just a small part of Fakhir that wanted to put this man on the ground.  Lieutenant Morrow wasn't the most impressive man he'd ever met, indeed he was a spindly fellow who was dressed entirely too well.  The sort of fellow that needed a good kick in the teeth with the airs he was putting on, but that wasn't going to be conducive to Fakhir getting paid so he put aside the urge as best he could as he mouthed the words.

"That is what I said, sir."

"Excellent."  The man seemed to glow a little at the compliance, Fakhir was pretty sure he'd glow if he reached over the table where the man was seated, grabbed his head and smashed it on the desk repeatedly until the man was left unconscious.  But, coin was coin and that was why he was here, hopefully the idiot infront of him wouldn't be seen much.  That would definitely suit Fakhir as far as he was concerned, but instead he waited for the man to scrawl his name in the ledger that signed him onto the Band's service, this Banner specifically.

"I am assigning you to the Second Squad of Lion Platoon, you will report to First Private Parika.  He in turn is commanded by Sergeant Davies who is in charge of the Lion Platoon.  He in turn answers to me and Captain Martel who run the  Battalion, and she answers to Banner Captain Martel, her brother.  Our Banner is the Black Banner, be sure to mark it well."

Black Banner?

"Our Banner Captain isn't Black Martel is he? . . .  Sir."

"He 'was' once a pitiful sellsword known as Black Martel, now he is Banner Captain Martel of the Band of the Red Hand and you'd do well to remember that.  Now I'm going to give you directions to your Squad Leader, he will see you settled in properly. . ."

Fakhir Aswasim

Infantry

Debate, solving a problem, ethical discussion, taking an issue apart and reducing it to its base elements, etc.  These are the sorts of things that could be used.

Things that Accepted need to learn are that White Sisters are more about skills than particular agenda.  They have a general mandate to find the truth, but that can be applied to many fields and situations.  What is important for a White Sister is to have the tools necessary to find it, to determine what is true and what is false, a willingness to question existing assumptions and knowledge and to re-evaluate it to test it and if it is found wanting, to determine what is true.

Thats my first stab at it :)

And I thought it was something serious!  Gosh! :)

You'll be fine mate, hopefully I'll catch you on skype or somewhere to have a chat when you get the chance.

Hey, I made a new character called Fakhir Aswasim, his bio can be found here:

http://forums.dragonmount.com/index.php/topic,25445.msg651016.html#new

If you want him to train you in swordwork, spear, daggers, hand to hand or using a bow, give me a holler and we can work something out.  His WS is 8 to match my original Band char, so he should be in a position to help out. :)

It was a nice gesture on her part, or so Fakhir thought to himself.  Most whores would have simply done the deed then demanded the coin, even when not mistreated and that wasn't a bad thing in itself.  Enough men would skip out of paying their coin once they were done, also why women usually asked for the coin first.  Strange that she had done neither, but then maybe she had enough friends that it wasn't a problem.  Someone who skimped on their coin was liable to be in trouble with those who did pay their coin.  Besides, it didn't trouble him, far easier to pay the coin and know what you were getting rather than trying to blunder with a woman who seemed to ask nothing.  Best to keep it simple.  "I doubt there'll be trouble, enough new people came today that a few missing won't be a problem, but I only get paid from the day I start."

Tracing a finger along her side as she had with him as he turned to her, it was tempting to forget about it for another half hour longer, she had enjoyed it and that was always an attractive thing amongst her other assets.  But, coin was coin and there would be another time he was sure.  Kindness aside, coin would draw her back and that was enough.  "You wouldn't happen to know where I could find a Lieutenant Morrow would you?  He is the one I am to report to."

Jatasha nodded.  "Easy enough to find him.  They do be keeping the boys close together." She said with a smile.  She thought about saying something else, something that might entice him to stay longer, but decided against it.  There was a fine line between making a man feel wanted and making him think you're pushy.  There were ways to correct the first, but once the second was established, it was hard to step around.

He was already moving out of her bed and she sighed as she watched him collect his clothes and dress with the efficiency that she grown used to with military types.  Instead of making small talk or anything else, she gave him the directions as he pulled his boots on, only allowing herself to run her hand along his back as he sat on the edge of her bed.  When he was finished and turned to look at her.  "Do no be a stranger.  I do like to be knowing my men do be getting settled in OK."  She added with a smile.

Her men.  Steady customers then, not that it was a surprise if there weren't enough whores to be found, a woman could pick and choose all too easily.  He just hoped that it wasn't a scarcity that translated itself in price, while he didn't mind paying he certainly didn't want to be extorted.  Only one way to find out about that though.  "I will be fine, but before I go I believe I owe you something, even if you didn't name it.  What would you ask?"

She thought about reaching for his pouch and hiding it behind her back, but he didn't know her yet and she knew all too well what would happen if a man thought you were trying to cheat him out of his money.  The fact that he was willing to ask her price instead of throw down an insulting penny on the table was comforting though.  "Four copper pennies." She said with a small smile waiting for his reaction.  Some men tried to bargain and some men walked out without paying.  You never knew until the time came.

Calculating the price in his mind, Fakhir was fairly certain that some things had factored into the choice the woman had made.  Not beating her, not trying to run out, wanting his coin in the future, but he didn't like to feel like he was indebted.  He would have liked to have thought that was the reason that he didn't hold onto money long, though that would have been a lie so he didn't bother trying to tell himself the self aggrandising thought might be true.  Instead he shook his head.  "Take five, and perhaps I shall see you another time."

Jatasha took the coin and set it aside.  It was business but part of her business was making people forget that she was just there because of the coin they handed her.  Holding onto it too long while they were there tended to remind them of just that.  So she set it on the table, not with the rest of her coin for him to come back for later if he turned out to be that sort, and came off the bed and to her knees.  The blankets fell from around her as she looked up at Fakhir.  A final kiss and then she smiled.  "I do be hoping so Fakhir."

The last kiss given and last words spoken, Fakhir only paused a moment before turning and leaving, the door closing behind him.  It had been fun enough, but he had no illusions about what had just happened.  Fun, perhaps a little expensive, but that was all there was to be had, and not just from whores.  But, he wasn't going to let that dampen his mood, after all, if it hadn't been worthwhile then he wouldn't have spent the coin, or given the extra.  He'd go back there, later, after he had sorted things out with Lieutenant Morrow and found out what role he was assigned.

Later.

Stepping inside of Jatasha's quarters, Fakhir was mildly surprised at it.  Most camp followers had nothing better than the meanest soldiers, which suited both fine usually because it meant they were always on hand for business.  That or the camp followers would be grouped in another place in the camp so as to keep things moderated, depending on how prudish the commander was.  That the woman had her own room was strange, but she must have made someone happy he supposed.  Either way, it wasn't really much of a worry for him because his mind was on something else altogether as he turned from the furnishings to the reason he was there.

Reaching for his weapon belt, he began to loosen it as he looked her over, she was pretty enough and she had all her teeth.  More than what could be said of the daughters, wives and mothers of defeated foes who had been ravaged by the victors and left with little other way to make their livelihood than what lay between their legs.  It was difficult to respect women like that, Fakhir didn't even bother because that was a pointless exercise.  They could always choose to be different if they wished, once the victors were done they could have gone and lived lives elsewhere.  But instead they decided to trail men like the ones who'd reaved their villages, they chose to sell themselves at that point.

Not that there was much pity for them beforehand, if they chosen husbands and bred sons who couldn't defend them, that was their own doing.  But just because he had no respect for them didn't mean that he felt the urge to beat them either, there was little pleasure to be had in beating something that had done nothing to deserve it.  Besides, whores did have their purposes, if it weren't for them then it would be some fine upstanding young woman who was too proper and prim for such things that would end up bedded instead.

That and no whore would go near a man who had beaten her twice if she had the choice and some would make the effort for those who were kind, or at least didn't brutalise them.  It was amazing what small kindnesses could achieve.

So when Fakhir tossed aside his belt and wrapped an arm around the woman's waist, he pulled her to him gently rather than with cruelty, and kissed her rather than tore her skirt.

Fakhir Aswasim

Infantry

Soldier's barracks.

Fakhir normally had an aversion to such a place, mainly because barracks were where soldiers in the pay of some lord were.  The sort who thought themselves better than him and were quick to be sour when they lost at their dice and coward enough to turn on you when the numbers favoured them.  Not that Fakhir was a paragon of virtue by any means, but he didn't need a dozen friends to hold someone down while he pounded them into a mess.  Still, it would serve for now and if anyone took his things, he would hunt them down and they wouldn't be able to walk properly afterwards.

Laying his spear next to the nearest unoccupied cot, he tossed his backpack underneath it and his unclasped cloak followed after it quickly enough.  He didn't strip down though, as much as he didn't care who saw in the middle of the night with the darkness to hide, he preferred a bit privacy and didn't fancy putting on a show for whoever happened to wander in.  That meant not here, clearly they would have to go somewhere else.

Turning to her, Fakhir was to the point, there was little point in them dancing about the issue.  "I don't suppose you know of a place a touch more private?  It might be empty now but I don't fancy putting on a show for whoever wanders in."  A thought came to him after that, one he voiced before she could answer.  "Do you actually enjoy this work?  Or do you simply play the part?  I've known enough to tell the difference, but I'd rather hear it from you."

Fakhir Aswasim

Infantry

The confusion on the woman's part might have been interesting, but if he were honest with himself he really didn't care that much.  She was a bit of prospective entertainment so far, that was about it, and that was about as far as it went.  There was a simple truth he'd learned a long time ago, and that was that trust was a very scarce thing.  You couldn't put your trust in men, women or the Creator to help you in a tight spot, except if it suited them.  The only thing you could trust in the end was your sword arm and the steel in hand to see you through the worst that could be thrown at you.  There could be friends, acquaintances and more, but never trusted.

The thought of her joining the Band proper though, that made him quirk his lips.  Whores spread their legs for the coin of those who fought, they didn't take up arms alongside them.  They were what they were, it was rare that a woman ever became a fighter of any worth and they were still worthless.  Those that didn't quail and run as women did were damaged, and damaged women were worth even less.  But, he wasn't about to argue the point with the woman who was guiding him to a place where he could be quartered.  She'd be the problem of whoever was left in charge of her.

Time to change the topic, and to something that concerned him far more.  "So, where is this place where I can be quartered?  You do know where you're going don't you?  Company is all well and good, but I would like to set my things down at some point, been carrying them all morning."  The sooner they got there, the sooner they could attend to other matters, like giving her a sweet.

Fakhir Aswasim

Infantry

Letting go of the woman, Fakhir wasn't sure what impressed him less, the girl's attitude or the fact that she was fishing for coin.  He wanted a bed, or at least somewhere to lay down his bedroll, that was the first priority.  Maybe he'd go fill it after that, but priorities were priorities.  Still, maybe the camp follower would be worth keeping in mind, it had been a few days after all and maybe a good massage and more would go a long way.  He could always get acquainted with people around him later, wasn't as if any officer had claimed him or he'd been given any jobs.  Until then, his time was his own as far as he was concerned.

But first things first.

"I only give sweets to good girls.  Maybe if you could find me some lodging, I could give you your sweet."  Pausing, Fakhir added.  "Does my good girl have a name?"

She almost laughed, but kept it to a warm smile.  "I do be Jatasha Danica.  And if you be needing a place to stay I can be taking you in the right direction at least."    She started down the way looking behind to see that he was following.  "Come along now.  You did promise me a sweet."

Balancing his spear on his left shoulder, Fakhir caught up with the shorter woman easily enough with a dozen strides and kept pace with her.  She wasn't so bad to look at he had to admit, she had a chest and hips and she also had all her teeth, more than what could be said for the eminently average campfollower.  Then again, it usually wasn't their teeth that was important, but a nice detail nevertheless.  Another detail not lost on him was her accent, was she new to the Band as well?  "You are new to the Band as well?  Your speech marks you Illianer."

She thought about it for a moment then looked at him with a smile.  "I be here more than a few months, but I do be Illian born.  I do no be denying that even if my voice did no give me away."  She had a hard time believing sometimes that she'd managed to be at the Citadel for so long.  That Carnhain was still interested in her.  Of course the time in her native Illian had made things a bit more interesting and she still got nervous thinking of how close he had come to catching her in her trade, but there was little to do about it here.  "Where do you be coming from?" She asked her new friend.  "And I do no believe you be giving me your name yet."

"Fakhir."  A group of men walking past grinned as they saw him, one of them even had the grapes to crack a joke about his spear compensating for a lack elsewhere.  It would have been tempting to simply mash the man's face in right there, but he simply contented himself with remembering the man's face, he could always find him over the next few days and deal with the man then.  A bed was a higher priority, and his new company was a touch more diverting.  "I'm from Tarabon, though I've lived less years there than I have abroad.  Wherever there is fighting there is coin, and elsewhere is always more lucrative."

"So you do be a man of the sword." She said with a smile.  "That do be a good thing.  I do no need a man that do no know how to handle his sword." She teased as they moved among the crowd.  She saw the way he looked at the others and the joking among them and knew they had been together for some time, though the when and where were beyond her. 

"You be knowing these men?" She asked.  "So you say you be from Tarabon, but have no lived there in a while.  Where did you come from then?  What battle found you turning our way?"

Fakhir was surprised at the first of the questions that the woman asked her, girl she was to not recognise blind baiting.  The rest of the questions he kept in mind as he answered her first.  "No, I don't.  A couple of them were Domani, they just recognised my clothing for what I am.  I'll find them over the next couple of days and have a chat with them."  Chat was a polite enough euphemism, though the tone hid nothing.  "I was in Illian when it fell to the rebels, or the patriots, or whatever, it was confusing.  With Queen Sofia who wasn't dead, and Queen Sofia who was releasing many of us from contract, a lot of sellswords need work.  I figured I'd come along and see if there was any to be had here that was worthwhile.  If it is, great, if not then I can leave and go elsewhere, simple enough.  What won you over to the Band?  Easy pickings?"

Silver was not his favourite colour.

Especially not when it was wrought by the One Power.  Stepping through one of those Dragon taken gates that the Asha'man made was not his idea of a smart idea, indeed, Fakhir Aswasim felt slightly tainted by the whole experience.  Not that it would last long, there were plenty of things that were worse that he'd done and seen than walk through some strange portal of the power that could transport one many leagues at once, but it was discomforting nonetheless.  Others seemed to take it far better, others had required coaxing to go through the portal, but Fakhir wasn't particularly troubled by the thought of them.

No, what had his attention beyond his discomfort was the sight of a Citadel in the process of being built and the many tents that surrounded its base.  A goodly number of people walked amongst them, easily in the thousands though how many he could not have counted.  It didn't really matter how many there were, except to know that if he went to battle with the red band on his arm that he wore, a good many of people were likely to die before he was.

Not that he was going to die anytime soon either.  He'd been a sellsword for the better half of his life, and while there were bold sellswords and old sellswords, there were rarely both and he planned on being the latter.  Coin was little good to anyone if you didn't survive long enough to spend it.  Besides, while some of the idiots with him were more than happy at the thought of fighting and even dying for the Dragon, because the idea was so heroic or somesuch, no that wasn't for him.  If he had to pick between being the paragon about to fall to evil, or to be the evil that was about to vanquish the last bit of good in the world, he was definitely going to be the one holding the sword in his hand.

But such musing did him little good, he had carried all his possessions that he had left after Illian had fallen.  He'd lost his horse to thieves and most of what had been in his saddlebags, so all that was left was the backpack he wore which had what coin he had left, some clothes and other odds and ends.  Then there was simply the clothes on his back, his armour and the spear in his hand.  Eight feet long, he knew his way around it well enough to give anyone on horseback pause to come at him and he'd been told that he'd be signed up with the infantry as a result.  Suited him just fine, horses were all well and good but when it came to fighting, he did prefer his own two feet to the hoofs of a steed.

Two feet that were going to take him to wherever he was meant to be billeted, except he had no idea where that was.  Looking about, he grabbed the first person that came to hand, one of the women of the Band who played at being soldier.  Women had no business with a blade as far as he was concerned, they were all well and good until they lost and lost more than a bit of pride or their head.  They were more useful after the battle was won, or for consolation after it was lost.

"Do you know where the infantry are meant to be billeted, girl?"

Fakhir Aswasim

Infantry

OOC:  Darienna will be catching everyone in the morning.  Unless anyone specifically wants to be caught by Estel? :)