Such a romantic message to post on Valentine's Day. You Brits are sooo romantic. :D

*bump*

OOC: I'm back and would love to continue my RPing, if you're up to it of course. :)

It was surprisingly difficult to avoid the notice of a drunkard and an Aes Sedai, much to Bethelynne's dismay. Being a novice--and a new one, no less--placed her at the lowest of social standings of those gathered at the ball, and this required a heavier degree of demureness and meekness than she was accustomed to. Nonetheless, she had spent the majority of the evening hiding behind her fan lest Faerthines stumble into her or Sirayn's hawk eyes spot her.

She knew full well that she risked a failing grade for the class if Sirayn was able to pull her attention from her own personal matters to notice Beth was not on Faerthines' unsteady arm, but the very thought of him spilling any of that wine on her dress was enough to drive her into the deepest shadows of the hall. Light, but she could smell him from halfway across the room!

She purposefully arrived late, having waited for the largest group of giggling novices possible in which to hide herself. Few engaged her except to comment carefully on the... "elegant simplicity" of Beth's gown, but it was all the same to her. She was hardly dressed to impress.

Sirayn's announcement of a ball had excited her at first, but her excitement soon turned to anxiety when she informed them they would all attend the ball with their assigned partners. Before Bethelynne had left the lecture hall, she had resolved to avoid Faerthines at all cost. Surely Sirayn would understand the impact such a potentially disastrous evening could have on Bethelynne's social future. Surely the woman knew the seriousness of her plight. Surely.

As each new group of prettied faces, bedecked hair, and abundantly laced would-be ladies arrived, Beth breathed easier. There was a surprisingly large turnout, and the more the merrier as far as she was concerned, so long as they stood between herself and the two most inconspicuous people in the room.

The evening began very smoothly; Beth even helped herself to some of the punch. But as the evening turned into night, she caught sight of Faerthines making his way in her direction more often than she would like. Sirayn, luckily, seemed much too preoccupied to even offer the most basic of greetings, but the buffoon was another story.

Every time she saw him, he was either talking much too loudly or else was bumping into someone on his way to get another drink. And no matter where she stood in the room, he was still too close for comfort. If she didn't know any better, she would have sworn she was a lodestone and his pockets were full of iron fillings.

She tried her best to get past more than an introduction and casual small talk with the young men and women of the Tower she saw, but she was too distracted to focus on any conversation of substance. By the time she noticed both of her targets exiting the building, she had already been exiled to the wall furthest from the festivities as possible, her fan long-since folded and the punch that remained in her glass lukewarm.

Sigh. "What a night."

OOC: Still around, Jahana?

*nudge*

The bust was too tight, the hips were too loose, the sleeves were too long; Bethelynne's very first Novice dress was heartbreakingly hideous. The cut and color and everything it signified was a bit more than Beth could handle. Light, what am I doing? She wasn't sure if she wanted to tear it and herself to shreds or if she wanted to run screaming through the halls and all the way back to Far Madding. One thing was certain, she wasn't expecting to be walked in on during such melodrama.

A silence of the most uncomfortable kind stretched out as Beth stood paralyzed by her own uncertainty and embarrassment. Two similarly lost and down-trodden eyes stared back at her from a pretty face that was equally shocked and uncertain. The newcomer--roommate?--was, the Light bless her, the first to speak. "Umm, hello. I'm Jahana," she said with a mouth full of cotton. Beth, very out of her element, said nothing for a moment, waiting for the Light knew what.

"Hi." That was it? Certainly she could do better. "I'm Beth. Nice to, uh, nice to meet you." She mimicked Jahana and retreated to her creaky bed, sitting cross-legged and looking at her hands in her lap. The silence dragged a bit longer before Beth swallowed the lump in her throat and she found her nerves. "Did you just finish the tour?" A nod. "So you arrived today?" Another nod. "Me too." A small smile. "I am a long way from home, Jahana. In more ways than one."

Bethelynne a'Raposa

Novice

Roomie

Mentee

It wasn't the sight of hundreds of thousands of books that struck Beth, nor was it the ornately decorated lamp stands or the tiled floors. For whatever reason, it was the musty smell of ancient scrolls and tomes, the smell of knowledge and learning that assaulted her as she made her way through the rows and rows of shelves full of books, scrolls, and encyclopedias. She could feel at least one set of Aes Sedai eyes on her at all times--Isra had said the Browns were watchful--but Beth was too focused on the abundance of paper and ink to let it bother her.

It didn't take long for her to find a book that caught her attention--Far Madding: City of the Guardian--but just as she reached out to take it, an invisible switch struck her wrist. Letting out a yelp, she jumped back, assuming a defensive stance. "Look, don't touch, girl." The husky voice of a husky Brown was dripping with over-protectiveness and disdain for those she deemed untrustworthy. "What business do you have here and where is your Aes Sedai escort? This is not the Tar Valon public library. There are strict rules to follow if you wish to so much as look at the book, much less read it..."

Beth spent her first visit to the White Tower library being lectured. She escaped by a stroke of purest luck. A novice, unsupervised because this husky woman was so focused on berrating Beth, dropped a particularly heavy book on the floor, damaging its binding. The Brown visibly cringed before rounding on the poor soul and Beth slipped away while she had the chance.

She found Isra, thankfully, with little trouble, and waited for her to finish a conversation she was having with another Aes Sedai. Beth, wanting no more than to make a better impression on her new mentor than she had already, chose not to mention the lecture. "Yes, Aes Sedai," she said meekly. "I am awestruck, really. So much knowledge in one place hardly seems possible. It would take several lifetimes to read it all, but my mind is dying of thirst already." She smiled and smoothed her skirts. "But, yes, I would very much like to see my room. I greatly appreciate your time and the tour, but I would prefer it if I could keep my faintings today to a minimum. Once is more than enough, I think."

OOC: Just for the record, I've been dying for my turn! Estel's words are in blue.

IC: Ah, the freedom! An afternoon all to herself! Who would have ever thought that an old crone like Marideth Sedai had an ounce of generosity in her tiny, shriveled heart? Since being taken under the Gray's personal tutelage, Bethelynne had hardly seen the light of day, much less had a minute of free time. Between the endless pages of history she had to read and copy each night for her lessons with Marideth Sedai and the regular rigors of her saidar, science, and philosophy lessons, Beth was lucky to get a wink of sleep at night. And so, on this her very first afternoon off in weeks, she made her way--leisurely--to the small room she shared with Jahana with every intention of taking the world's greatest nap.

Beth's eyes, knowing full well what was in store for them, hardly waited for her to reach her bed before closing. She walked the last ten yards in a half -trance--half-fall, not caring who saw her or how silly she looked. So Beth represented the Tower, so what? She was exhausted! If she had a choice, she would play hookie for the entire day, and the next week besides. Oh, how her bed was calling her by name...

"Beth! C'mere!" Her bed sounded eerily similar to Laeri, one of the newer girls--a young girl, maybe fifteen summers--who had taken to following at Beth's heels for the Light knew what. "Bethy! Psst!" Her brain sluggishly determined that the voice was, indeed, that of her tag-a-long, determined it was coming from behind her, and turned her head--eyes still half-closed--towards the source of this pre-nap interruption.

"Heya, Bethy!" Beth hated the nickname. "Wow, you look tired. You should really get some more sleep." An understatement. "Hey, we're going into the city. One of the Accepted is taking us so we can have lunch and shop! You should come! Oh my goodness, we are gonna have so much fun! Come on! Come with us!" Beth didn't respond inwardly or outwardly. She showed neither interest nor disinterest. Rather, she waited for the girl todissolve into thin air so that she might take her blessed nap. Laeri stopped yammering for a second, waited for Beth to jump up and down and sharing in her ridiculously youthful excitement, and then grinned mischievously. Before Beth could process what was happening, Laeri had grabbed her by the hand and ran down the hall laughing gaily, a horrified zombie Beth in tow.

Laeri's friends were all her own age. Three other girls fourteen and fifteen were giggling at one of the side entrances as a now very much awake Beth and Laeri arrived. "Honestly, Laeri, I greatly appreciate the invitation, but I simply cannot," she was saying for the one hundredth time. Laeri, listening no more now than before, just grinned her stupid grin and began introducing her to the other girls. Now theprisoner of etiquette and niceties, Beth worked desperately to excuse herself without offending--one of the girls was, of course, next in line for a High Seat and had told Beth so at least twenty times in the first ten seconds--but to no avail. Their giddy small talk had only just resumed when the Accepted arrived--seemingly annoyed, though Beth couldn't imagine why--and swept them out and into the city.

They wrought havoc with every step, leaving a trail of messes and mutterings behind them. First, Kiro, a Saldaean, knocked over a glass vase in the glass blower's shop. Then, Nessa, a Cairhienin, had a sneezing fit in the flower shop and sneezed on the sleeve of a prominent member of the don't-sneeze-on-me-or-I'll-scream-like-a-ninny committee. By the time they reached the Staff and Stole, Beth had all but removed herself from the group. The Accepted, Laralin, was gracious enough to let Beth walk a few steps behind once she realized that she wanted to be there just as much Lara herself. Laeri and her friends entered the common room with a heterogeneous mixture of sounds and carrying-ons--a liberal amount of giggling the catalyst of it all. Beth, knowing full well that this was a regular haunt for Aes Sedai of the Red Ajah and their agents, came in quietly, every bit of reserve energy focused on separating herself from the girls. Had she seen Isra on the street or was it just the hysteria setting in?

Laralin stopped and spoke with another Accepted--Aramina?--before speaking with the innkeeper and ordering them lunch. A few ageless faces glanced in Beth's direction, but did not linger. Perhaps they remembered the magical drunkenness of a Novice's day off--as Aramina surely expressed in bidding them farewell--or perhaps they had more important things to address, but not one face went beyond showing the slightest sign of disapproval.

Lunch went by with, thankfully, little more than gossip. If Beth had had any appetite, she may have helped herself to the split pea soup and rack of lamb, but the walk had done her little good. By the end of the meal, though, she noted a drastic change in the girls' demeanor. The gossip was wearing too thin too quickly and the girls began yawning incessantly. Beth, perhaps the only one at the table who paid any attention to anything other than the juicy love affair Kiro was telling them about, dipped her spoon in Laeri's soup and tested it delicately with her tongue. Ha! Sleeproot, the most basic of sleeping powders.

"Are we ready to go ladies?" Lara reappeared from seemingly nowhere, but the generous amount of sleeproot had dulled the girls' wits and responses. They all turned to look at her, unsurprised, and nodded collectively. "Good. Shall we?" Beth slipped the spoon back onto the table and made sure to finish her water before following the group out.

The walk back to the Tower was spent in blessed silence. Lara betrayed herself only once, glancing at Beth with a grin much akin to the one Laeri had been wearing all afternoon. Beth smiled back in spite of herself and Lara winked. It was all Beth could do to keep from laughing out loud. She decided then and there that she liked Laralin very much.

By the time they were back on the Tower grounds, Beth still had an hour and a half before her next lesson with Isra Sedai. Silently thanking the Creator for suchmercy, she made her way back to her room. She bumped into a woman as they both rounded the same corner and Beth apologized immediately, and then begged pardon when she noticed the Great Serpent ring and took in the ageless face. "Many apologies, Aes Sedai. I was not watching where I was going."

The Aes Sedai made a face that could have meant anything--anger, embarrassment, frustration--but another Aes Sedai appeared at her side before she could say anything. "Estel Liones, you are the most difficult woman to track down. I have been looking for you all afternoon." The name sent bells off in the back of Bethelynne's tired mind, but she saw a chance to escape and took it. It wasn't until she was finally in her rickety bed that the name struck her like an arrow. Estel Liones. She had just bumped into Faerthines' mother. Light, but she had the worst luck.

OMG WTDIV IS DOWN!!!!! WHAT AM I GOING TO DO???

;)

*waits patiently*

I suppose I can post on my arrival thread in the meantime, huh?

She was dripping wet and shivering. Slippers in one hand, hair plastered to her skull, indecently transparent dress clinging to her body, Beth raced through the hallways like a mad woman. She must have looked like a sewer rat running for its life, but she had no time for proper behavior or dignity. She was going to be late and could not afford to be so. Burn that evil Brown and her insistence that Beth run a message to the Master at Arms’ office at the far end of the Tower Grounds in the rain!

Her room in sight, she called out for help and a mousey girl she'd only seen in passing poked her head out of the door to her own tiny room, eyes widening at the sight of a near frantic Beth. "I'm late! Help me change?" The girl--Geira?--giggled, but fell in with Beth and they both exploded into Beth's sorry excuse for a living space. Two slippers struck the wall, one white dress was thrown onto her roommate's bed, one shift--soaked all the way through--and one set of undergarments were all shed haphazardly and exchanged for a fresh set of blessedly dry clothing. She breathed a thank you and dashed back into the hallway, leaving the wet clothes where they were.

Although Beth knew where to find them, she had never visited the Green Ajah quarters. She didn't know whether to count it good or bad fortune, but she had met only a handful of Greens and only one had taken more than the most casual interest in her. That one of such curious repute would require a private audience with her after a very curious interaction in an otherwise ordinary class required punctuality, if not every last wit the poor girl could muster.

Rounding a corner, she grabbed a passing novice. The girl squeaked in surprise and then pulled away sharply, off-put by Beth's state of urgency. "I'm so sorry, my dear," said Beth in a rush, "but I am afraid I may be late for a very important engagement!" The girl, snooty beyond imagining, smoothed her skirts as if to wipe away some filthy residue that Beth had left on her and said nothing. Beth, having no time for games, ignored it and the impression she was surely making. "Please."

The girl smiled--sneered, really--and made much ado about the fact that “silly new girls” like Beth really should be more mindful of the time before asking how she could be of service. "Sirayn Sedai. Where are her rooms?" Light, but Beth wished she could revel in the way the girl's sneer turned into a look of puzzlement before she sent Beth running off in the right direction.

She arrived at the tall, wooden doors just as the bells announced the fifth hour past high noon. Running a hand through her still-wet hair, Beth took a deep breath and knocked timidly on the door.

OOC: Not sure how they tell time in RandLand, but I thought it sounded close enough. :)

As the unlikely pair made their way from this room to that corridor and down another set of stairs, Isra leading without sparing more than the occasional glance over her shoulder and Beth struggling to take everything in at once, Bethelynne felt more and more out of place. The tall marble walls, the endless polished stone floors, the ancient tapestries, the novices in white scurrying from one task to the next, the Aes Sedai floating, sauntering, and stalking past them with barely a glance; everything served as a testimony against her. The homesickness that she had kept in check was now a hole in her heart.

Who was she to even aspire to have the smallest part in anything that happened there everyday? There was so much prestige, so much power and influence and endless potential for greatness that she was sure the footsteps echoing in these halls were not her own. History was most definitely being made with every breath any woman breathed within the White Tower. How could Beth, a silly runaway, a teenager with more angst than true character, how could she be so quickly swept into all of this?

I can channel. The revelation struck her again, though she maintained better composure in the face of this second wave of shock. She held the tide at bay, knowing she could not afford to let her mind wander down that road. Isra Sedai was explaining where this corridor led to and Beth, weary from the phsyical and emotional journey of the last month, was struggling to commit as much information to memory as possible. Light, but she was hungry.

As if she had read her mind--Light, could Aes Sedai really read minds?--Isra abruptly turned at the next corner and led them to the kitchens. Beth's mouth watered uncontrollably as the aromas of fresh baked bread and roasting mutton washed over her. Isra was explaining about chores and menial tasks that the novices performed daily, but Beth had only a mind for the food that begged her to eat her fill. Never mind etiquette and respect and proper place, this was life or death!

“Explore if you will, or we may continue the tour. If you are hungry, any of the fruits in that bin are yours for the taking.”

Thank the Light Isra was not completely unaware of the glint of desparation in Beth's eyes and posture. Without further invitation, Beth grabbed an apple and nearly swallowed it whole. She was later shamed when she realized how savagely she devoured the first and second apple (and the sweet cheese pastry a kind-faced woman offered her). For the moment, though, her hunger was all she had a mind for. If Isra--who declined a pastry herself--was surprised or, Light forbid, disgusted, she hid it well and allowed the girl to eat before ushering her out.

"You may take an apple with you if you so desire, child, but there is much more to do before the day is through. Shall we?" It was then that Beth's cheeks reddened in embarrassment. She wiped the juices from her face on a rag, a perfect portrait of sheepishness as she offered a humble apology. Isra nodded in return. "Very well. We can make our way to the library or the gardens. Which would you prefer to visit first?"

Beth, still blushing, was caught off guard by the simple question. Pursing her lips in thought, she set the now dirty rag down. "I..." She cleared her throat. "I would very much like to see the library, Aes Sedai. I have heard much more of your library than of your gardens."

OOC: Merry Christmas. :)

IC: Trying her best to pretend her head was not swimming, that her dark hair was not a rat's nest, and that her dress was not dirty and wrinkled, Bethelynne sat up slowly and nervously brushed a strand of hair out of her face. The woman, Isra, looked at her appraisingly, though appearing--so far as Beth could tell--utterly unimpressed. Beth doubted her arrival would spark much conversation in the Tower this day, but she was certain that her fainting had not gone unremarked. This woman, and her Sisters with her, must think Beth a complete ninny. Light, but she wished she could disagree with them.

What's done is done. The Wheel moves forward with or without you.

She swallowed hard and averted her dark-eyed gaze demurely, not sure if she was supposed to introduce herself, but feeling awkard in the silence that surrounded the beginning of what she feared would become an important relationship. She decided to follow the Aes Sedai's lead. If the woman, if Isra wanted Beth's name, she would ask for it. Pulling the thin blanket back, she swung her legs over the edge of the cot and rose to her feet, wincing when her dismount sent the room spinning once more.

"Yes, Aes Sedai," she said quietly. "Please forgive my poor manners. I am... I suppose I am every bit of the newborn fawn today, in more ways than one. If these legs seem a bit shaky, it's because they've not carried such a burden as I now carry on my shoulders."

OOC: I left her physical appearance pretty basic so I could expound on it as I see fit. Dark hair (wavy?), dark eyes (blue-green), average height and weight (not quite chubby, but a bit of flesh to her). Not homely, but not strikingly beautiful in anyway. Olive complexion. Body language speaks of self-condifence, kept in check by her introverted, introspective personality. :)

OOC: By Lavinya's permission, I've done a bit of NPC work with Faerzyne to ensure a smooth transition into the next stage of the RP. I've also brought my lovely mentor in. Again, if I've taken liberties that exceed my due I will gladly edit accordingly.

IC: The words struck Bethelynne like an arrow. She flinched, pulling her hands away from Faerzyne's out of reflexive fear and turned infinitely inward. You can learn to channel. The truth and its resulting consequences reverberated inside of her skull, straining her already strained mind, pulling at her very tired heart and demanding her last breath. But she couldn't find her breath at all. In fact, even breathing as hard as she could--which she realized she was doing--she could not get enough air into her lungs. The words echoed again and again, crashing against her consciousness and sending the room spinning, shrinking.

"Did you hear me, child? You can channel. Your journey here has not been in vain." Beth, dumb as a cow, looked at Faerzyne placidly before slipping out of the chair and onto the floor where she collapsed into a heap of exhaustion and self-loathing.

It wasn't until she woke up in the infirmary that she realized she had actually done the unthinkable on the first day of the rest of her life. An oozing shame threatened to send her back into blackness once more, but voices she did not recognize held her in the here and now.

"...And she's been here how long?" A cool voice, an autumn wind that spoke of summer and of winter at the same time.

"She came to me only an hour ago, Isra Sedai. She wishes to train and has travelled far to have that chance." Faerzyne. "I think maybe she would do well under your guidance, Isra. She has heart."

A pause. "I see." A sigh. "Very well then. I shall be here when she wakes."

"The Light see that you are. Accepted Liza said she should come around shortly. Between the heightened stress and the long road here, she was due for a good fainting." Beth stirred involuntarily, betraying her awareness and putting an abrupt halt to the assumed-to-be-private conversation and her eavesdropping thereof. "Ah, yes. She's coming around already. That's my cue to leave. Farewell, Isra."

"I... I..." Stammering was quickly becoming Bethelynne's signature response to any questions aimed at her, followed closely by blushing. The world was spinning around her so quickly; everything was changing so rapidly. Were there any doors closed in her relatively near future, or had she seen the end of locks and bars? Light! The revelation of the sheer potential of her new beginning was almost too much for her, so much, even, that she was surprised she hadn't exploded. Lucky for her--and the stern woman whose eyes had Beth nailed to the floorboards--stammering was the extent of her outward reactions. And blushing.

"I apologize.. Mistress..." She stopped and cleared her throat, brushed the hair out of her face. "I apologize. You must think me an imbecile as all I seem capable of today is making a fool of myself." She smiled sheepishly and bit her lip, not sure if she should move further into the room, into her future, or if she should wait for an invitation. As she received none, she swallowed hard--why was her throat so dry?--and spoke the words that would effectively seal her fate. "I wish to be entered into the book of novices. I... I.... would like to study here, i-in the White Tower, with you... and the Aes Sedai."

She realized she was sweating, that sweat had beaded on her forehead and drops were moving slowly down into her face, but didn't trust herself to make a move. This moment, she knew was very, very significant. It would be better not to ruin it by fainting.

OOC: I set-up Beth's bio as the interview that ensues. If you want to take a look at it, maybe we could cut and paste it into here? Not sure what the procedure for this is, exactly. :)

My bio

Get ahold of yourself, Beth.

The gray light of predawn lazily illuminated the tiny room she had rented for the last three nights. It consisted of a cot, a small, clouded mirror, a stool that also served as a nightstand, and three wall hooks where she hung the sparse remains of her material belongings--a pair of black leggings, with a black shirt and jacket to match, each dusty from the long road to Tar Valon, a plain gray wool dress divided for riding, and a wrinkled dress of pale yellow silk. Her tools--a knife, lock picks, three vials of poisons of varying degrees of potency, and her money--a silver penny and a few coppers--were carefully hidden under a hole in the far corner of the floor under her cot. Bethelynne lay staring at the slatted ceiling of her very cramped room, trying and failing to muster the strength of will to stop shuddering and to get out of bed.

"Don't be an idiot," she said aloud. "You've known this day was coming for nearly three weeks, now. Get up!" Another shudder. It wasn't the thought of getting out of bed that was frightening, nor was it the thought of putting on the same dress she had worn everyday since arriving in Tar Valon at the beginning of the week. No, she was not afraid of the spiraling towers, the beautiful plazas, the fountains, or the gardens, or the stableboy who had caught her stealing a loaf of bread from the kitchen and had said nothing--yet. Beth was afraid of what she had decided she would do today, afraid of the place she intended to go to, the woman she intended to see, the request she would make. "Light! You're such a ninny, Beth!"

With one final bout of self-loathing, she pulled the itchy blankets--one would think they'd been woven from straw!--back and forced herself to stand and get dressed. In a matter of minutes, she had squeezed into the yellow dress, tamed what she could of the mess of her hair, washed her face, and brushed her teeth. As she stood looking at herself in the clouded mirror, though, she knew another moment's hesitation that had everything to do with appearance and nothing to do with fear of the unknown. I look like a beggar. The thought came unbidden, but stung all the same. As the granddaughter and apprentice of a diplomat she knew very well the importance of appearances and knew moreso that, with the dirty fingernails, matted hair, and red, haggard eyes, she had little hope of slipping into the novice books unnoticed. For all she planned on saying as little as possible of her past, her appearance screamed, "I have a story that I am not telling, a story I do not want you to know!"

She had burned her bridges four weeks ago. A single note left in the designated spot, a carefully placed piece of evidence that would raise eyebrows and spark curiosity where Lady Vixen would much prefer utmost privacy, and a purse of silver crowns in the pocket of the guard who let her slip out of the city annonymously were the only trail Beth had left in her wake. She wasn't sure that the Aes Sedai would be able to use her past against her or to get a foothold in the elusive courts of Far Madding, but she would not risk it. She had spent the last week going over what she would tell them, determining what was best to leave out for her own protection. And after a few innocent questions of the right people, she had learned of the protocol for would-be initiates of the White Tower.

All she had to do now was get there, which was, of course, easier said than done.

Making her way through the city, she rehearsed her story again and again. The yellow silk didn't allow for completely avoiding notice, but it was plain enough for her to blend in with the crowd. As the dawning sun's first rays touched the tips of the tallest buildings, Bethelynne was passing through the gates and into the inner courtyard of the fabled White Tower. With one more involuntary shudder, she made her way inside.

"Are you in need, child?" Beth jumped in spite of herself and blushed immediately. Light, she was very much out of her comfort zone here. A motherly woman of indeterminable age made no attempts to hide the pity in her voice or in her smile as she stood with her arms folded in front of her. She wore a white dress with seven bands of color on the hems and neckline. For a moment, Beth merely stared at her, opening and closing her mouth in search of the words that had suddenly escaped her. The woman must have mistaken her stammering for dim wits. "If you are hungry," she said in practiced tones of patience, "there is a soup kitchen in the city. If you are looking for work, I can take you to see our head cook, Sara. If you are looking for hand-outs, well I'm afraid you have come to the wrong place..."

The last bit brought Beth back to her senses, her cheeks heating to a darker shade of red. "I am not a beggar," she said plainly, if slightly terse. "I seek an audience with your Mistress of Novices. I have come to be tested, to have my name entered in the Book of Novices and to study." She straightened to her full height and met the woman's eye, careful to keep all but the slightest hint of challenge out of her voice. "Would you be so kind as to tell me where I might find her?"

Oh, Lady, if you could see your little fox now...

Thanks, man. Does this mean I'm good to go? *bounces*