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The camp spread out as far as the eye could see, north from Kahi’s Wall. The Ultgar King Kahi had erected the wall a century ago against the goblin Warlord Fak; the gruesome carvings of goblinoid faces locked into a rictus of pain lined the top of the redstone wall. South of the barrier, a single dirt road disappeared into the distance, the only sign of civilization beyond the wall.

 

Only a few hundred feet from the barricade, Prince Nicoli’s tent stood, proud in the prince’s blue and white colors. It was by far the largest and grandest in the area but there were rumors he wasn’t taking that one across the border. The most practical of Mael’s children, it was entirely possible that he would forego the comforts due to a noble of his standing. Some of the nobles following him seemed to be afraid that they would be required to leave their massive tents and soft luxuries behind when they crossed into the goblin’s lands.

 

The nobles and those looking to impress were further south but the further north the camp went, the lower on the social strata the tents and their occupants were. The aura of the area was excitement and eagerness, mixed with a party attitude. Beer and ale flowed freely as maji smoke made a haze in the area. Heavier drinks and substances were passed around when officers weren’t nearby. War songs were belted out in every key imaginable and camp followers danced for the soldiers and adventurers.

 

It was the eve of war, and few denied themselves their pleasure of choice.

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THE PALADIN'S MOUNT

 

This days march had been just as long and warm as the previous days march but at least the new army had finally arrived at the Kahi's Wall. Seraphania had marched by herself at her own pace carrying her own gear this day, the same as she had each day sine the army had left the capitol and so she was dusty and tired when the word came back that camp had been set and was no more than an hours march ahead. She adjusted her back pack and kept on walking even as she heard the sound of horses trotting up behind her.

 

Ogan Skullsplitter (the last name was self proclaimed as far as anyone could tell) rode up upon the lone soldier marching toward camp, his fellow mercenaries close behind. He was almost past when he realized that the soldier was no soldier but the huge woman who others claimed was a paladin.

At the sight of her all dusty, in worn travelers clothing worn boots and carrying her own gear, Ogan found it impossible to believe that she could be what others claimed. Reining his horse around he slowed his trot and called out to her.

 

“Hey you! Woman, Soldier!†He trots in a circle around her as his companions come up behind them slowing to watch. “They tell me you are a paladin is this true?â€

 

Ser never slowing her pace but continuing on nods slightly and utters one word. “Yes.â€

 

Ogan slows his horse to fall beside the tall woman and matches her pace.

 

“I find this hard to believe. Everyone knows that paladin's wear gilt armor that shines with their holiness and have fine magical sword blessed by the gods†he turns in his saddle to look at his friends and points at Ser laughing.

 

Ser continues walking ignoring the mercenary.

 

“And why are you walking? Aren't paladin's supposed to have great magical warhorses that can talk and never tire?†he is full out laughing eh never sees it coming he barley hears her reply but his friends do.

 

“A paladin does not concern herself with such things.†she spins and reaches up grabbing the stupid mercenary and pulling him from the saddle.

 

He slams into the ground with a solid thud the wind driven from him his friends pull to a stop several reaching for weapons as Ser swings her self easily int the empty saddle. “When I have need my god shall provide. Like now.†She looks at Ogan"s companions who as one burst into laughter at the plight of their comrade.

 

Ser wheels the horse and gallops off towards the distant camp.

 

 

Epilogue

 

Ser dismounts and calls to a stable boy. “See that this horse is fed and rubbed down then deliver it back up the road to a Mercenary,†She describes him. “I believe his friends called him Ogan.†She throws the boy a couple of coins. “He is probably very angry, tell him that Seraphania sends him the blessings of Ithtari. Make sure he understands that I know his name.â€

 

 

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“Why does he need to know your name?” The voice caught Ser’s attention and she turned to see the woman in the tent behind her. It wasn’t as ostentatious as the noble’s, but the fabric in it had been woven with threads the color of the sunset. The light shining through the tent cast the interior in warm pink and gold. Small crystals hung on thread spun in the air, sending miniature rainbows dancing through the inside. The bed was a hammock that swung gracefully from the tent frame; it was piled with finely woven blankets. A banner with Kywin’s familiar be-ribboned shield hung to the right of the door, while a small sign on the left offered HEALING and SHOES in big letters.

 

The speaker was a pretty Ultgar woman wearing priest vestments. She sat cross-legged at a low table which was covered in tools and shoes parts.  She held part of an Ultgar beaded sandal in her hands, though she had paused to look at Ser. Her dark eyes were inquisitive and an amused smile curled her lips. “Do you want him to find you and thank you personally?” she added, her voice gently teasing.

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Ser turned slowly and stared at the owner of the voice, a look of confusion on her face.

 

After several seconds it dawned on her what the woman was asking.

 

"Oh, no, I think you misunderstood." Ser was now looking at the board with the letters trying to make sense of them.

 

"I told the boy to make sure he, Ogan the idiot I took the horse from, understood that I knew his name. A warning should he think of taking out his frustrations for my actions on the boy. Men such as him often will project their cruelty on those weaker than themselves."

 

"What is that?" She asks indicating the sign.

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“That’s a sign.” The woman didn’t alter her smile an iota.

 

“I know that,” Ser growled through gritted teeth. “What does it say?”

 

“Healing and shoes.” Grinning the cleric waved for her to come into the tent. “But I also offer hard tack cookies and fresh water, if you’re weary. My prior says I should put ‘spiritual advisement’ on the sign too, but that seems boastful, don't you think?”

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Ser looked closer at the sign then at the interior of the tent. With a grunt she stooped and entered dropping her gear to the side of the entryway out of the way, before settling herself onto the ground.

 

"Thank you. I could use some water if that was an offer." She studied the smaller woman more closely. "Healing and shoes?"

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The cleric grinned. “I learned how to make shoes from my father, long before Kywin summoned me to his service.” She rose and fetched Ser her water in a glazed clay stein. “And long before I tried to be a mage. I decided if my father was teaching all eight of his children to make shoes, we’d soon have more shoes than customers.”

 

Picking up her work, she continued to stitch the sunburst pattern in red glass and brass beads on the soft cream-colored skin. “You, on the other hand, are one of my business suppliers.” A twinkle in her eye suggested she was teasing again as she said, “You can call me Fatima. What are you called?”

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"Seraphania and no, i do not supply you customers unless you also do burials." There is no hint of humor in her statement. She takes a long drink of the sweet clear water. "This is good." She drinks again emptying the stein and setting it down. She nods at the shoe Fatima is working on.

 

"That looks difficult. My father taught my brothers smithing he tried to teach me. I wasn't good for much more than tending the fires So I left and joined the army before he could marry me off."

 

She looks at her own boots the almost worn through soles and heels. "How much to resole these?"

 

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“Marry you off?” Fatima frowned for the first time. “I’ve heard that some people are still that old fashioned but in Maelton, most people like the Empire’s Decrees of Oneness.” Emperor Mael’s announcement of sexual equality in the realm had come through the church, printed out as decrees ruminating on the nature of the gods. Since they were equal and of all sexes, then all sexes must be equal.

 

Ser’s question drew her out of her thoughts. “Repair costs? For one of my peers in the vanguard of war?” She firmly shook her head. “Nothing and I won’t hear of you arguing. It’s cheaper to repair than build, so unless you want a new pair, I’ll do it for you for nothing.” She set aside the sandal and gestured. “Bring them here.”

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"I don't know about any decrees but my father was falling on hard times i can't blame him. I liked being in the army I was a good soldier." She tugs off her boots making no fuss about the Clerics offer for doing the work for free. One of Erold's many lessons was not to ever turn down some one willing to do something for her. You never know when it is someone being simply a good person or one of the gods working through them to aid you in your calling.

 

She handed over the boots and Fatima took brush and set about cleaning them so she could work them.

 

"Since you seem to be traveling alone. Perhaps you wouldn't' mind if I walk with you when next we march. I could help with your carrying and such, too"  Ser wasn't making the offer out of obligation nor was she feeling compelled to do something for this kind woman. She just felt that it was right that she offer and more importantly It felt right being here. Erold had told her to trust her feelings for often that would be how Ithtari would speak to her.

 

He was fond of saying that in a paladins world there were no coincidences. It was a saying she was learning to be true.

 

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“Yes, I’d like to be your friend too,” Fatima said, smiling so wide she showed a dimple. “See I’m not traveling alone, just as you aren’t. I mean, my man and your woman aren’t here-here, but they are a prayer away, yes?”

 

The boots clean, the cleric began to dismantle one of them. “So Seraphania, where do you come from? Is it very far north? I’ve wanted to see the north and maybe go up into the elven lands. I’ve heard such interesting things about their gods! Have you seen one of their god-places? I’ve only seen woodcuts and paintings of them, and those are mostly imagined by human artists, I’m sure.”

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Despite herself Ser couldn't help but smile along with the friendly cleric who so easily accepted a stranger.

 

"My name can be a mouthful, you can call me Ser if you would prefer." Ser watches the quick sure movements of Fatima's hands as she works with the boots. Settling back she thinks of her home.

 

“Our village or Tur in Dotherian, was called two-hills or Duer-Bredh. So in Dotherian it would be Tur-Duer-Bredh all as one word. We lived very far north maybe even in the elvish lands fifty sixty miles east of Abil Loadh-Uisce or Fast Water River, the one you call Jacomus. But as far as I know I have never seen an elf.â€

 

 

Pronunciation
TutDuerBredh - ter - dwur - breth

Abil Loadh Uisce - silent A - bill lowth - wis

 

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“That’s sad. I would have traveled up there to see them if I’d been so close.” Fatima smiled fondly as she said, “I mean, I snuck away with other kids to see the goblins. It was dangerous but we liked to steal little trinkets from them and boast about how close we’d gotten to this or that village.”

 

“That sounds dangerous,” Ser said with wide eyes.

 

“Oh, it was,” Fatima agreed with a chuckle. “My father blistered my backside and it never stopped me or my siblings. We would steal little things from them, like trophies. Now, we’re going to war against them. It’s funny how life can circle around like that isn’t it?” 

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"Funny? No, I lost forty men and the best Sargent to ever wear the Imperial Badge not far from here. I was beaten, raped and left to die. My men were betrayed and murdered and those animals on the other side of that wall committed that crime. They will pay and so will whoever was responsible." Ser picks up a rock and throws it outside. "I swore my life to Ithtari as i lay dying, so that I could have Justice for my men and Vengeance. I don't find much humor in anything any more, Fatima."

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Her new friend’s smile had faded as Ser had spoken and her hands were still on the boot. “I’m sorry to have reminded you of that pain. My aunt always tells me that when I’m too happy, I risk offending others who haven’t had the grace of my life. I really can’t help it.”

 

She cleared her throat and asked, “May I pray for you? I’d like to ask Kywin specifically to return some of the beauty robbed from you, if you would allow. I know that some of those dedicated to a god hate prayer to another one on their behalf. I don’t want to assume.”

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"Oh Fatima, you have not offended me nor reminded me. The only thing in the world now that offends me Is evil. The evil in the the hearts of Men or what ever their race may be and the Evil That they do. As for Reminder. I will never forget.It is a thing which lives in my mind and in my Heart. Its what makes me the instrument that I am."

 

Ser heaves her self to her feet picks up her stein and goes to where Fatima poured the water earlier, she finds a second stein and fills it and hers and takes it to Fatima. then sits again

 

"Ogan was right about one thing, There are paladins who glow with their holiness, their righteousness and they are shining examples of Faith and duty. I am not a paladin like that. Souls do not concern me. Not mine not anyone else's. I am an instrument of Justice and when justice is too late i become a weapon of vengeance. I respect the gods and will never turn down a prayer from a friend and will always except help from whatever corner it may come from." She drinks. "Paladins such as I take the darkness within ourselves and use it. But sometimes it is good to be reminded of the Light, And I find your light pleasing. And that is a good thing to be remind of."

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The cleric was smiling again by the time that Ser had finished. “Good to know that you aren’t a shiny paladin.” She giggled a little at the paladin’s arched eyebrow, explaining, “I’ve known many paladins of Kywin who were shiny and lovely and perfect.

 

“I love my fellow followers of the Beautiful One but they forget that beauty is not always obvious.” Fatima smiled, returning her attention to the shoes she was working on. “Sometimes, they forget there is beauty in the uglier things in life. There is beauty in the struggle to live. I remember this so well, when the Empire was invading.” Her stark words reminded Ser that the Ultgar kings had been the last to fall.

 

“I remember helping my father make boots for the army,” she said, her voice going soft and distant. “I remember the rationing. I remember not seeing horses. I remember the young men leaving and not coming home. I remember the good times, then, too, the simple beauty in sparse meals of our family together. It was a scary time in my life yet I know that part of the empathy I bring to my current calling is from that time.” She gave Ser a small smile, visibly stepping away the past she saw in her memory. “I guess we all have our dark moments, and our light.

 

“What’s your favorite color?” she asked suddenly.

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The question, seeming out of nowhere, caught Ser completely off guard, not only because of its sudden changing of the subject, but because in truth she had never thought of a favorite color before.

 

"I...hmm...I don't really know. Hmph I have never given thought to such a thing as a favorite color." Her brow furrows as she tries to think on the question.

 

"Well if you don't have a favorite, then surely there are colors you find more pleasing than some others. What would some of those be?" Fatima offers trying to ease her new friends now troubled mind.

 

Ser contemplates the new question and looks off  at the fading light outside the tent. "When i was a little girl, there was a stream a couple of miles north of the Tur, sometimes if i woke really early before dawn i would finish my chores and be fore breaking fast i would run off to explore and play, to be alone." She pauses looking a little sad at the memory or prehaps some other memory recalled. "The stream, it wasn't wide or deep and it flowed from the North, and its was very very clear and the water was always cold."

 

Ser's memory became clearer in her mind as if she could see that stream right outside. "You could see all the way to the bottom all the rocks and pebbles and small fish darting about. Then as the sun rose and the golden rays hit the water, colors would spring alive gold and reds from the light and water reflecting the rocks and pebble and blue and green from the tiny fish flashing to and fro."

 

She looked up at the young Cleric, smiling broadly, her face transformed by the memory.

 

"Those colors were most pleasing."

 

 

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The sounds of yelping filled the air. The kind that other men were tempted to repeat out of sympathy. All the sympathy.

 

And it had been going so well at first. Evan had been enjoying himself with the knot of other soldiers here. Passing the roasted meat, having drinks of the vine's blessing, that sort of thing. Good feasts, camaraderie, good times. Then one of them, with a ruddy grin and the lush to match, after laughing at one of Evan's jokes, waved a hand.

 

"You said it, sheep-fucker!"

 

Evan stopped and frowned. It wasn't a glare, grimace, or anything than a frown. It was, nonetheless, a frown that spoke for itself, and just about everyone else read 'back away slowly.'

 

"Sorry, what now?" Humans were far more accepting, far superior in culture - but some idiot would always say this at some point. Granted, he was drunk - one had to make allowances.

 

"Hic..gh. Jus' said sheep-"

 

Nobody said how much allowances Evan should make. 'Barely any' counted as an amount, so somehow the hapless drunkard found himself on his back, and Evan kicking him repeatedly in the balls and stick.

 

Finally, Evan relented and backed off. "Let's not say that again, shall we? You might become a never-fucker otherwise."

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Magda chuckled as she watched the halfling trying to kick the human's wedding tackle back into his body.

 

'That one 'as some fight in 'em, an some wit too.' she thought to herself as she took another swig of ale with a smile... or at least what the humans called ale.

 

She picked her new shield up once again and looked it over, giving it a bush with her hand.

 

"Well, ye ain't gonna be lookin' like this fer much longer." she said to her unscratched and dent-free shield. She sat the shield back down and looked over at the halfling once again and pondered.

 

'Well, it's not that surprising, I guess.' she thought. 'They did manage ta defeat tha dwarves an drive 'em underground. By then though, I'm sure we were already goin' soft.'

 

"Luxury is the herald of weakness." she said aloud, almost as she were reminding herself.

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“Here, now, don’t kill a man for being in his cups.” An officer had sauntered up and hauled the man to his feet, nodding at Evan. Turning to the groaning soldier, he said, “Go and put somethin’ on yourself. You need to be able to walk straight up or a gob’s gonna poke you right in the eye without hopping.”

 

Turning back to the Halfling, the human officer eyed the smaller man and said, “Unless you want to pay to replace him, I suggest you go easier on your next target. He deserved it, I grant ya, but His Highness wants hale and whole soldiers, not ones who have to walk like they’re trying to drop a babe. Can you settle for a few less kicks next time?”

 

Ser and Fatima could hear the yelping but neither of them paid it any mind. In answer to her question, the cleric grinned broadly and said, “Red, gold, blue and green! You’ve given me a challenge, Ser.” Her fingers flew as she started to patch and repair the boots.

 

“So if you’ve never seen elves, what about the other races? There are gnomes all over Maelton now; they are eager to study human inventions.” 

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"humph Soldiers" Seraphinia shakes her head and mutters under her breath perhaps a bit wistful, before turning to Fatima to answer the pleasant woman's newest inquiry.

 

"I have seen gnomes or at least that is what Erold named them. Erold was my mentor it was he who Ithtari sent to witness my vow." She pauses a bit reflecting. "We had dealings with them a few times during my...apprenticeship. I did not talk to them, though, their manner...they confused me." Ser looks down at her feet for a few seconds a sheepish look so, out of place, on her face, before jumping up.

 

"It grows dark I'll go and fetch us some supper." Without waiting for Fatima to reply, Ser ducks out of the tent, still barefoot and goes in search of food.

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The adventurers were allowed to use the officer’s tent; in addition, there was a surplus of vendors who were selling food at the edge of camp. They wouldn’t be going south with the army but they wouldn’t pass up the chance to make the a bit of coin before the troops were gone.

 

Ser ducked into the officer’s tent; why pay coin when perfectly good food was given to you? Nicolas had promised to feed them three times a day and she saw no reason to pass that up. This meal was fish, pulled from the ocean last night and cooked with olives, potatoes and small onions. It took a bit of convincing but she managed to talk the mess officer to let her leave with two bowls. 

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The walk to the tent, getting the food and walking back are enough to clear Ser,s head of her  doubt and shame brought on by the conversation and her memories of the gnomes. In all her travels she had never been more embarrassed of felt so Inadequate than that time.

 

Erold had sent her to fetch supplies as normal and she had complied only to find that the owners of the mercantile in the town they were at were gnomes. They immediately discovered her lack of learning and her inability to follow their conversation when on would begin a sentence only to have the other finish it. The two confused her so badly that she had broken into tears and run out of the store. For the first time since she had left home, her stupidity had shamed her. In the army no one really cared if she could read well at least before she had been made an officer. She would have run away for good forsaking her vow if Erold had not found and explained that the Gnome are often the butt of Human jokes and that he two had found the opportunity to turn the tables so to speak irresistible.

 

Fatima's innocent question had brought back that memory and the shame that had gone with it.

 

But that is something I will have to overcome, she thought to herself as she entered Fatima's tent with their victuals.

 

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Felix is sitting on a rock. He stares out and sees all that is going on while eating an apple he got along the way. He was slowly cutting pieces of it off with his dagger. So much was on his mind, and for once there was little to distract him from thinking on all of it.
 
The first thing on his mind was thinking on the fact that for the first time he was alone. For the most part this would his first true adventure in his view. He has never really left home for long. This time he knew he would be gone for long, maybe forever. It was time for him to grow into a man of his own caliber. His father made his way into nobility, unlike Felix who was born into it. He hopped someday to make a man of himself.
 
Yet to most whom would look at Felix would laugh at him. Felix was nothing like his father. Felix was not very muscular. He was basically pretty weak looking. Yet there was signs he was no slouch. He was quite agile. Yet with what he lacked in physical strength, he proved that he could be quite resource due to his keen mind and tongue. 
 
 The second thing Felix was pondering was the nature of why people went to war. So many different reasons and yet not one reason was as good or worse then the other depending on one's views. Yet in the end it all comes down to whom was better at destroying the other one force. It was a sad and terrible thing to be honest. Yet in the end there was no way to escape it. People were going to kill people over the most simplistic things.
 
Yet sadly the reason to why Felix was not talking with people on the second pondering was due to his first. He was inexperience, and unheard of for the most part. Plus most people figured Felix would get killed easily, so why bother trying to talk to him. That part just annoyed Felix.
 
Right now Felix was just relax that he was not in a more rougher part of the camp. He doubt that people of lower class right now wanted to hear from him. Felix laughed at that, as he was quite popular where he lived with the common folk. He did not view that nobles should be fear, but loved and respected. In the end, people just want to be respected and be loved.
 
Yet he doubt most people were thinking on popularity right now. Felix figure, like him, they were thinking of their own survival. Felix  had heard tales about what they were going into. Tales that did not end in happy ending. Yet he did not care, either Felix would live or die. What matter was how one died, and how one lived.
 
Once Felix was done eating his apple he put it on the ground and went to grab his lute. He starting to pluck on the strings. He was tired of thinking about what was and what could be. He wanted to feel festive and happy. He started to play an old song he knew. It was  simple and very festive for the most part.
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Evan turned his sour gaze on the officer, and sighed. "Fine. For that, I suppose I can forget a few." Truthfully, the halfling looked like he'd still want to give the same amount of harshness as before, but he wasn't intent on making trouble with the officer corps. He smoothed off his clothing and snatched up a thick leg of some animal before taking himself and his property elsewhere.

 

Which was a short meander to beside the onlooking dwarf woman. "Really though," Evan darkly muttered, "he already got off easy."

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Dru made his way through the celebrating throng muttering under his breathe, "Put the assassin with the paladin, that'll be fun. Hope they kill each other before we leave. The Prince doesn't need to have an assassin this is a just crusade. Bollocks is it its a straight land grab. But he won't need any snooty nosed pissant recruiters any more now will he?" With those last happier thoughts Dru continued on towards the stables the mercenary Ogan had said the boy who returned his horse came from. Pausing briefly near a lone dwarf at a campfire to watch an officer admonish a halfling for beating a drunken soldier, Dru had to admit this so called paladin had style to take a mercenaries horse off  him by force then return it when no longer needed.
 
As the officer moved on and the halfling approached the dwarf Dru moved away having spotted the stables over the surrounding tents. Walking up to the stables he spots the boy Ogan described steal a swig from a semi - comatose soldiers mug and calls him over with a smile.
"You boy! Did you run an errand for this woman paladin this afternoon? "
At the boy's worried nod Dru smiles to reassure him, "There's no trouble for you or her, I just need to speak to her. Now which way did she go when she left here?"
 
Dru shrugs and tosses the boy a coin as he points out a brightly coloured tent nearby. Walking over to the tent Dru can hear voices inside and after pausing to read the sign he claps twice  then enters to see two women chatting while one apparently mends a pair of boots.
"Excuse me ladies, but..." He pauses as he recognises one of the women, "Ser? Damn its been some years. May be  you can help me. Have you seen this paladin that everyone.." And then it hit him, a big stupid woman who thinks she's a paladin, thats what they said...
"Its you isn't? The paladin." He said in a resigned tone.
"Come on then how did it happen?" Dru didn't doubt it for a second that she was a paladin, she just wouldn't make something like that up.

 

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Having just finished eating the two women returned to their tasks, Fatima returning to Ser's boots and Ser gathering the the the bowls and utensils to go clean them and return theme to the mess when a shadow fell across the tents entrance and two sharp claps announced a visitor. Fatima invited him in as Ser continued collect the dishes and the large water skin she might as well fill at the same time, she thought as the man enters and began speaking.

 

A soldier, no not a soldier, but he used to be one though, Ser could tell in the way he carried himself. He was shorter than most she towered over him of course like she did most. When she heard her name she looked up at his face. He kept talking as she searched her memory to put a name to the face, suddenly a name came to her Dru, and with it the memory of bullies and a small youth and the smell of the training yard. They had been recruits together, so many years ago.

 

Slowly it registered what he was asking. she looked at Fatima who had returned to her work but was still observing in her quiet manner.

 

"I saved Commander Adreesas life at Turdramm Pass, when his staff fled for their lives." She speaks matter of factually, no emotion enters her voice, but anyone could see the fire and hate in her eyes."He made me an officer in return, some did not care for having a stupid private elevated to their ranks. I was sent on patrol, not far from here in fact, we were betrayed , my men were slaughtered, i was raped, tortured and left to die among the my dead. I did die and was born again." She levels her gaze on the man she once protected from bullies. "Why do you seek me Dru?

 

 

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"I'm sorry to hear about your unit Ser. I remember hearing about an incident while stationed elsewhere down here, but hadn't realised it was you at the time."

He tried to think how what she had been through would have changed the young woman he had known and failing in that decided to stick to the facts.

"As for why I came looking for you, that's easy. Some snooty nosed prat of a recruiter I pissed off thought it might be funny to have me working with a paladin since I've been doing sneak and kill work for the Army since we got split up back in Basic. He obviously thought that sticking a sometimes assassin and a Paladin would end up with one of them dead, and one less headache for him."

 

He gives her an appraising look before continuing, "So, are you going to have a problem with jobs I may be assigned? And just what type of Paladin are you anyway?"

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After awhile of playing his lute and the occasional singing, Felix got bored. He goes to look around seeing if anyone was listening to his playing or singing. He was tired and his body a bit stiff. He goes to get up and moves a bit. He wanted to get to know people more and started trying to find someone to talk to. The isolation was maddening a bit to Felix. He wonder also if people's perceptions of him were different or still the same. He did not want to look weak, but there were some things he could not fix. So he had to find people whom he could associate with and work alongside. If not most likely he would get killed.

 
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"So.. 'aven a wee bit ova disagreement wit' tha rank n' file over proper address, are ye?" Magda asked with an amused smile as she offered Evan a waterskin by tossing it near him casually.

"Ye gotta remember, anybody who signed up ta stand in tha frontline an catch gobbo arrows in the face cannae be the sharpest blade in the armory." she mused, as she sat her shield aside and gave her attire a final inspection.

"Good kicks though. Nice technique." She added with a smile.

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“I certainly will,” Fatima said softly, “but my people have already learned that you don’t fight the Empire. However, you forget that you’ll be going against the goblins. Everyone in Ultgar can tell you about a relative or friend who lost someone to the Gatrok. The goblins.

 

“So when Prince Nicoli sends you to sneak into a goblin tent and cut off the chief’s head, I’ll be applauding your efforts.” She smiled wryly at him. “Until your blade is directed at people who don’t eat our babies and murder our young men, I’ll have no issue with you.”

 

She grinned a little and asked, “How are your shoes?” Ser’s first boot was done: it had been put back together with gold and green stitching. The grommets were stained a soft baby blue and the laces were red.

 

~  *  ~  *  ~

 

A pocket of gnomes were sitting together, talking, drinking, and comparing something on pieces of paper. “Hey!” one of them hollered, a petite cutie with long pale brown hair and huge eyes. She got up and hurried to Felix. Darting in front of him so he had to stop, she said, “We’d like to hire you as an consultant.”

 

“I’m sorry?” Felix asked.

 

“I admit that our offer is based on a few assumptions. We saw you playing that instrument, so we believe that you know musical notation. We are currently waiting for our bardic friend to return from gathering supplies and we’d like to have this figured out before then. Can we hire you to consult with us on a sheet of music?”

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"I am okay with your offer. Also for your information I do know musical notations, and I am curious what the problem is?" Felix asked. The offer seem innocent enough and Felix always was interested in music. Of course some people were more natural in it then Felix. It took him some time to study the basic patterns of how songs are written and how to play them. Sure a person could recall songs, or do it by action of others. Yet a true person needs to learn how to read and write the basic language of what a song is. Felix chuckle to himself at that. Yet in his mind it was somewhat true. Music is in a sense a language that in it's own sense, and various tools that are used for them act akin to various languages that only a few who konw them can use them. Yet in some ways music is not like a language as it can be understand by anyone who could hear, even if they did not like how it goes.

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Dru nods to Fatima acknowledging her points.

"Well, I've spent most of the last 5 years down here relieving chiefs and shamans of their information and their lives and for my part I have no need for targets without green skin unless they are aiding and abetting them."

 

He looks over at Fatima's work on Ser's boots and resolves to get his fixed elsewhere. Not there was anything wrong with the work, but he couldn't risk fancy colours giving him away on an assignment.

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“Excellent!  Come here.” The gnome led Felix over to the other gnomes. They each hand him a sheet of music. “We think there’s a code in here,” one of the gnomes said, “but we can’t break it. Sadly, none of us are fluent in musical notation.”

 

The first female looked up to him again. “Can you help us?”

 

~  *  ~  *  ~

 

Fatima nods to herself. “Then we have no problem.” She smiled wryly. “I know that I’m supposed to say that we should never do evil, but you’re just a tool, Dru, like me. I’m a tool to be used by my god and I can use myself for good or ill.”

 

She stitched once more before glancing at Dru’s boots. “Would you like me to repair yours? I see that the heels are a bit worn. I’d be happy to fix them for free.”

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Dru debates with himself, after all he doesn't want to cause offense, but he also doesn't want the bright colours. In the end he decides he can always put black polish over them to dull them down if necessary.

"Sure, thanks, but would it be ok to stick to dark, dull colours? Wouldn't want them to get me spotted one night after all." He ends with a shrug and a grin.

Addressing both of the ladies, "Either of you heard of anyone else we might be teamed with?"

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