Author: Katja, Posted: Thu Dec 28, 2017 8:35 AM, Post Subject: A New Recruit (P)(R)

Galin caught her by surprise as he leaned in and kissed her, though she reflexively closed her eyes and returned the kiss, though she was still rather internally unsure of what was happening. Instead of pushing away from him and asking him what was happening, she chose to let it happen, leaning into his arm as he wrapped it about her waist. When he pulled away from the kiss, she let out a small laugh as he pulled her closer to him. She was still hesitant, though less so with the behavior he was exhibiting.

Katja began to speak to ask him what that was all about, but he beat her to the punch, offering an explanation for the black eye first. She raised an eyebrow as he explained Cooper was the culprit. “You two have a knack for getting into fistfights or something?” she asked, giving him a sleepy grin as he tightened his grip on her waist. As he proceeded to compliment her appearance, she reached up and ran a hand through her hair, her face reddening slightly as it finally donned on her that she was clothed in naught but a loose tunic with frazzled, messy hair from sleeping. “Can’t say as though anyone has,” she answered, her gaze locking with his own. This time, she was prepared as he kissed her once more, though still confused as to where the sudden affection had risen from.

When they parted, she focused her attention on the map as he explained what would be taking place once they traveled to the Highlands. Part of her was rather excited - she hadn’t been outside of Adeluna, as far as she could remember, anyway, so the prospect of seeing another part of the world was something to look forward to; however, she found herself rather nervous that she was going to be given such a seemingly important task. “That seems like something awfully important for someone who has yet to see any sort of real battle,” she said, trepidation audible in her voice as she spoke. “But, you’re the one who’s got experience in these matters, and I suppose you wouldn’t entrust me with something you didn’t think I was capable of,” she added, smiling at him. “Question is, what the bloody hell am I supposed to do during the attack? End up flat on my back in the dirt with someone swinging a war hammer at my head?” she quipped, calling back to their training session and her inability to best him.

Before she could ask anything else on the topic, Galin seemed to switch gears, addressing the elephant in the room. She could not help but to smile again as he explained his actions from the previous evening, including a hint as to why Cooper had blackened one of his eyes. As he kissed her once more, she found herself not only returning the kiss, but leaning into him a bit as well. When he broke away and finished speaking, she looked at him with her head tilted slightly to one side. Before speaking, she pulled out the chair beside him and turned it to face him, sitting down close enough so her bare knees rested against the side of his leg.

“Before I went to my room last night, I sat out here trying to make sense of everything that had happened. It was all a flurry, and everything was so hazy from the whiskey, and the wine… I didn’t know what to think,” she began. “I had a very nice time with you yesterday - training included,” she added, smiling at him. She dropped a hand to rest on his leg as she continued speaking. “I don’t know what I feel about you - I mean, I literally have nothing to compare it to,” she said with a laugh. “If I’ve ever had any sort of… companionship of any kind in the past, I sure as hell don’t remember it.” She fell silent for a moment, thinking best on how to continue.

“What I do know, Galin, is that I’ve certainly enjoyed the times that I’ve gotten to spend with you. Not a lot that I can remember has made me genuinely smile, and you’ve managed to do it a myriad of times. I feel… good when I’m with you, and from my understanding, that’s something that doesn’t come easily,” she explained. “It was funny, yesterday, when you asked if I wanted to eat with you? I was so confused as to why Maria thought I needed to get so cleaned up, and it was even more confusing when you said that Cooper did the same with you - but maybe they were seeing something we weren’t?” she asked. “Regardless of the reasons behind it, I think you’re right. I think this is, or could be something, and it’s worth seeing what that something is…” She trailed off then, and surprisingly this time it was she who leaned toward Galin and kissed him, one hand finding the side of his face as she did so. She lingered much longer than intended, and when she pulled back she had a rather large smile plastered across her face. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?” she asked, a hint of a smirk hidden in her smile.

She turned her attention to the platter of fruit on the table, picking a rather large strawberry off of it. Oddly, she spread a bit of honey on the berry before taking a contemplative bite of it, chewing rather slowly. After swallowing the bite, she turned her attention back towards him. “All this aside, I’m going to need to ramp up my training, aren’t I?” she asked with a bit of a sigh. “Starting with learning how to shoot a damned bow in the right direction,” she added with a laugh. “Cooper’s yet to put a bow in my hands, probably a smart move on his end.” She took another bite of the berry before her face lit up slightly. “You know, I’m going to need my toolkit back. Dermot was nice enough to liberate me of it when your men caught me that first night… and I don’t think he ever gave it back.” The black leather pouch she had carried with her had contained several tools that would make breaking in when they arrived to the Highlands much easier. “I’ll have to pay that bastard a visit, I expect,” she said, though she immediately perked back up and turned her attention back to Galin.

“So what’s the next step?” she asked, and it was clear that her question addressed both the mission in the Highlands, and whatever it was between the two of them.

Author: Galin, Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2017 7:47 PM, Post Subject: A New Recruit (P)(R)

Cooper heard Galin’s bellowing from the quarters he and Maria shared along with their daughter and he groaned to himself. His wife rolled over and looked at him wife a mixture of tiredness and annoyance. “If he wakes Luth up, I’ll find him passed out drunk one night and geld him like a lark, and you tell him that from me,” she hissed through clenched teeth as she pulled their daughter closer and shooed him out of bed to stop Galin’s incessant noise. Cooper, hissing in displeasure as his bare feet touched the cold stone floor, opened the door to his chambers and padded out to intercept his commander before his wife took a gelding knife to one or both of them. He saw Galin down the hall and motioned for him to come to the kitchens where Cooper, in front of the embers of the cooking fire, sat heavily on a stool and poured himself some wine, gesturing for Galin to do the same. Galin, the letter from the north clutched in his hand, sat opposite him and barely paused to drink the cup of wine that Cooper poured him.

“I know you heard, you slippery bastard, I know you heard it all! Alfric besieged, orc tribes united in the heartlands, and the Highlands are calling for aid, and from me of all people! The buggers realized we are the best there is to offer and are begging for us to come north and wipe their arses for them!” Cooper looked at him like he had three heads and Galin took a sip of the wine before continuing. “Let me review. Alfric’s got Orcs up his ass, got his keep surrounded and won’t last til spring. So Alpin sent this letter,” he continued, brandishing the parchment, “asking for our help. We will be paid, of course, but things are so tight that thirty men, he said, might turn the tide. Imagine the look on Alfric’s face when he sees my pink, Highland arse delivering him from the Orcs. He’ll shit himself and die on the spot and I’ll wager good money on that.”

Cooper looked at Galin with a mixture of exasperation and confusion. “That can wait, you foolish man. What about Miss Kat?”

Galin sputtered into his cup, cursed Cooper roundly and with a great deal of linguistic creativity, and then downed the rest of the cup. “So I may have kissed her. I’ll tell her in the morning it was a terrible mistake and be done with it. Now back to…”

Cooper knocked the cup out of his hands and glared at his best friend of the last ten years. “What in the nine hells do you mean, tell her it was a mistake. You practically took the clothes off her with your eyes on the training ground this morning and now you’re kissing her? What in the hell do you think it is, some sort of change in the seasons that’s got you this way, you bleeding idiot?”

Galin snarled as he turned on his friend, clenching his fists at his side as he stood. “What the shite are you talking about, you lowland muck savage?! I’m a married man and you know that, no matter what Kat is making me think. I took my vows to one woman and with that one woman I plan to remain. The rest was just whiskey and excitement.”

Cooper stared at Galin a moment and then burst out into full fledged laughter, clutching his sides in merriment as he stood as well. “So you’re married now, are you? Maker’s blood, man, she’s not holding you to that, not now that she’s, well… You know?”

“She’s what? Dead? So that should be enough for me to break my oath?” Galin growled and swung an inebriated punch at Cooper, who ducked out of the way easily and snapped a jab into Galin’s face. Galin staggered, stunned, and sank back into his seat. He touched his left eye and could already feel it swelling after the punch. “I’ll break you back to the ranks, you bastard, and don’t think I won’t.”

Cooper stood over him, his hulking presence imposing in the half light of the dying fire. “You’ll do nothing of the sort,” he growled back at Galin. “She wouldn’t want you to live in misery like a bleeding hermit, never finding happiness again. And don’t lie to me, because I’ll know after this long. I ain’t seen you smile at anyone like that since the plague and you’ve found someone that makes it happen without trying. Stop looking for an excuse you hide yourself, sir, and be a fucking man.” Cooper dragged Galin to his feet and looked him dead in the eye. “She’s a rare one, sir, and she makes you smile the likes of which I ain’t seen since my son was born. Stop ignoring that to be faithful to a woman’d want you to be happy. Embrace it as her last gift and start with someone that’s got you being a fucking man again. Sir.” He held Galin a moment, at arms’ length, and smiled as he saw the light of recognition start in his eyes. Something he had said stuck and maybe, just maybe, Galin would not actively make himself miserable as he had every day since the plague took his wife and their adopted son. Maybe, Cooper thought, he would allow himself to be free of the past, just for the day.


Galin woke in the morning with a pounding in his head and a tenderness near his left eye. He could remember the exact moment that Cooper hit him like a blacksmith’s hammer but he only half-remember the conversation. Certain phrases stuck out, however, and he knew that he could not hide from what happened the night before with Katja. Cooper was right, even if he would not admit it, and he did not think that he was supposed to die alone after his wife and son were taken in the plague. And Katja had made him smile more than he could remember smiling since his wife’s passing, so he was loathe to do anything that would jeopardize that. Instead, he went to the kitchens and filled a tray with fresh fruit from the fort’s small garden, small loaves of freshly baked bread, and a jar of honey. As he was about to leave the kitchens, he noticed the food being prepared for Cooper and Maria, who, rumor had it, were expecting another child, and, in honor of his growing black eye, Galin stole the bacon off their trencher and headed to his offices as he chewed it with malicious glee.

While he was going over the last grain requisitions to prepare to supply the company on the march, settled back at the table where he had been the night before, he was oblivious to Katja’s presence until the door to her quarters squeaked behind her. He looked up and gave her a beaming smile, waiting as she padded across the floor to the table. “Good morning yourself, lovely,” he said softly as she leaned down on the table next to him. Before she could expect an answer to her questions, he leaned over and kissed her slowly, an arm around her waist, as if to say that, in the cold, sober light of morning, he made the same choice as he had the night before. He lingered in the kiss, not wanting to break away, but he knew he had to. Instead, he put an arm around her waist and pulled her a little closer so she could see the map of the Highlands.

“Well, first, yes, there is a change in plans, but also yes, you missed something. Cooper rang my head like a bell, for reasons that don’t bear repeating, but that’s the eye.” He squeezed her around the waist a moment and smiled at her. “Has anyone ever told you that you look adorable in the mornings,” he asked and planted a kiss on her cheek. He knew that Cooper had been right and instead of maintaining his distance, he decided that he would just accept the reality of his situation and make the most of it. He looked down at her, lost again in her blue eyes, then kissed her once more, as softly and purposefully as he had moments before. “And now to something a bit more serious…”

“First, the plan. The Orcs are besieging a fortress in the North, the home of the man that made me make my life in the south, and I am being called to relieve him and end the siege. I have already sent a rider for the rest seafarer I know and we will be sailing within the week. If all goes well, we arrive in Dunholm and march under the cover of darkness to Carrick,” he said, stabbing the map with his finger. “While we create a distraction and draw off the enemy, you’ll enter the fortress from the postern gate and tell that what we intend to do to break the siege. When they are aware, shoot a fire arrow into our lines and we will begin the attack,” he said, pointing to the direction of the proposed assault.

“And secondly, I wanted to be clear with you, now that we are both a touch more sober than I was last evening… It wasn’t the whiskey or the wine, if that’s what you’re wondering. A very wise man,” he said, touching his swollen eye, “reminded me that I ought to live in the moment so that is what I am trying to do. Kat… I really enjoyed last night, our conversation, the unexpected ending to the night, all of it. But… I want you to know it wasn’t a mistake. It’s… good. You are good and you are making me happy. I hope that wasn’t too forward, of course. I am just not about to let something slip through my fingers, especially something this good, and something that has already gotten me a swift punch in the face. Basically,” he said with a grin before leaning in for another kiss, “whatever this is, wherever it goes, and no matter what happens, I have a feeling it will be better doing it next to you.”

Author: Katja, Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2017 5:30 PM, Post Subject: A New Recruit (P)(R)

Katja opened her mouth in an appalled manner as Galin poked fun at her thieving abilities, though she couldn’t help but let the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile accompanied with a soft laugh. “I’m a rather good thief, thank you very much! Perhaps I’ve stolen from you while I’ve been here and you don’t even know it! Perhaps getting caught was my plan all along,” she said, giving him a wink, clearly in jest. As he continued on, it pleased her to hear that her presence had been a positive in his eyes and not a negative. “They’re not so bad,” she said, attempting to keep a straight face, though she broke into a chuckle moments later. “Who am I kidding? Ragged is a good description of those boys,” she added.

“It’s not funny!” she said as she could see that Galin was amused at her reaction to the first drink of whiskey she took. “I’m used to the shit - sorry - rubbish that you get in the taverns here in Adeluna,” she explained, catching herself unnecessarily as she cursed. She took another sip of the harsh liquid, trying her hardest not to make a face as she focused on Galin while he offered another tidbit about his history. She had just parted her lips to ask him to indulge her a bit further on what exactly Cooper was meddling with, when her attention was drawn to the messenger that had entered.

Her eyes fell on Galin as he concentrated on the message that had been delivered to him, and for a brief moment she found herself studying the features of his face a bit more than she had done before. When he shoved the letter across the table towards her, she pulled it close, reading it quickly. Most of the information meant nothing to her at first glance, but Galin seemed awfully happy about whatever it was, and that was enough where she grinned awkwardly at him

She was about to ask what that meant for the impending raid she had been training for, when Galin leaned down and planted a kiss directly on her lips. The haze of alcohol delayed her reaction, which was only to freeze as this took place, letting out a sort of laugh as he pulled away from her and complimented her appearance. She was unable to speak before he pulled her up from her chair, expanding on the information he had received somewhat but not really explaining anything. She laughed again as he twirled her unexpectedly, though the laugh was silenced by Galin stopping the spin and his lips meeting hers once again - another unexpected kiss. This time, however, she offered a reaction, her eyelids flutterings somewhat and her lips forming to match his. She blinked at him with a bit of confusion as he pulled back, catching the color in his cheeks and matching it with that of her own. If Galin was embarrassed by his actions, nothing but the color in his cheeks showed it, as Katja witnessed a complete transformation of his demeanor. “Soon, I hope,” she said in response, laughing awkwardly as he hugged her, and she stood in place, watching him dart out of the room.

Katja shook her head slightly at the events that had just taken place, before the messenger addressed her. She whipped her head around to look at him, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of red at his comments. She remained silent, trying to decipher what he was saying to her, but all she caught was the suggestive tone of his comment. “Oh, piss off!” she yelled after him as he left the room, clearly flustered.

After a few moments of complete silence, Katja walked back over to the table, where she proceeded to pour some of the remaining whiskey into a glass, downing it in two gulps with a bit of a cough following. She put both hands flat on the tabletop and leaned forward against it slightly, letting out a rather exasperated sounding breath of air. “What the hell just happened?” she wondered aloud, the room answering her with nothing but silence.

She took a beat, running over the previous events in her head. He had clearly just kissed her out of excitement - that had to have been it. After all, there was nothing more than that - though, there was the way he had looked at her when he had pinned her during training that afternoon. She hadn’t been able to figure out what it was, but something had been off about it. It had been nothing but a quick brush of lips, and that didn’t mean a damn thing. They had both drank their fair share, and he had received exciting news. That was clearly it. But… if that was the case, why had he kissed her a second time? That time hadn’t been so brief, and there had been a bit more… passion to that one? And she had definitely made an attempt to return that one…

She abruptly straightened up and pulled her hands from the table, resigning herself to the fact that that had all happened thanks to the liquor they had consumed, though she was having a tough time believing herself. With that, she walked into her room and undressed, pulling on a longer tunic for sleeping before climbing into her bed and drifting rather quickly off to sleep.

Morning came far too soon, and Katja slowly opened her eyes, cursing the pounding in her head - which was, most likely, attributed to the mixture of wine and whiskey she had the night before. She stared at the ceiling, blinking as she replayed the previous night in her head. After several moments, she had told herself there was no point in worrying. What had happened had happened, and it didn’t matter why. After all - it wasn’t as though she was remotely upset by the actions - in fact, she found herself smirking somewhat as she admitted to herself that it was somewhat enjoyable, and her mind wandered for a moment as she contemplated what kissing him a bit more would be like, were it not in the presence of a messenger… But she quickly shook herself out of that thought string, and climbed out of bed.

She could hear activity in the office, and lazily pushed the door of her bedroom open and stepped out. Galin was sitting at table, his back to her door. For a brief moment, she contemplated walking back into her room and shutting the door, but her feet had a different idea. She padded across the floor until she was standing next to him, little distance left between them. “Morning,” she said quietly, before yawning. She stretched her arms over her head as though she were still waking, and proceeded to lean down against the table so she was nearly at eye level with him, looking at the information strewn out on the table. “Planning for the change in plans?” she asked, in reference to the news he had received last night. “I’m still trying to figure out how I’m going to work into this big battle,” she said, her voice still masked with a bit of sleep. “I’m not exactly battle ready,” she added, turning to look at him. “Um. Did I miss something last night?” she asked, catching a bit of bruising beneath his eye. Without thinking, she reached with one hand and gingerly ran her fingers across the darkened skin, curious as to how he had obtained a black eye since they had parted ways the evening before.

Author: Galin, Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2017 1:26 PM, Post Subject: A New Recruit (P)(R)

“I wasn’t planning on it, but if you haven’t learned your lesson from the training ground, I think, even after this wine, I can still pin you again without breaking a sweat.” He grinned at her and half made to get out of his chair to grapple, but settled for pouring her another glass of wine and topping off his own. “But I think we can leave that until we train again. Maybe tomorrow, if you’re interested? I do need to keep my skills up and Maker knows that will all this clerical tedium,” he said, gesturing to the stacks of parchment that cluttered the shelves around them, “I barely have time to see the training ground, let alone work up a good sweat.”

When Katja mentioned that there was nothing much for her to tell about her own past, Galin was intrigued and concerned, leaning forward in his chair and hanging on to every word. It was not unheard of, he concluded, as she told more of the story, to lose memories after a blow to the head. He could even remember one of the men who had left the company had been the same after an Egjoran mace brained him in a border dispute. “Happens, from what I’ve seen,” he replied softly. “One of the lads that served here a few years back had it happen to him. Mace scrambled his pate and he couldn’t remember a thing from the last… ten odd years. His wife wasn’t the happiest when he couldn’t tell her from a hole in the wall, but it came back in time. So never you worry. Shame to hear about the folk that took you in though.”

He grimaced and took another drink of the wine. “Adeluna’s got this reputation as the safe, happy kingdom, but the buggers can’t keep the highway safe. Every few months, the Crown sends us a barrel of silver and we head out to burn the bastards out, but it don’t do much good to them that’s already dead. They ought to be more active, clearing the roads, checking the old farms left after the plague, all that, but they’d rather throw coin and foreigners at the problem rather than do it right the first time. Useless buggers, the lot of them,” he growled. “And of course I didn’t kill you. You didn’t actually steal a damned thing and it would be a shame to deprive the world of a pretty girl just because she’s a shite thief. If you’d gotten away, though…” He winked at her, the wine loosening his tongue a fraction and letting him relax. “But of course, you’re welcome. It’s nice having you around the keep, a change of pace from the ragged tinkers I call soldiers here.”

He laughed out loud when she mentioned the whiskey Maria had clearly decided was the appropriate way to end their evening and then swallowed the rest of his wine, feeling flushed and a touch giddy. “Many’s the man in this company that’s had a night the ended with him losing a fight to cobblestones, so if you do, you’ll be in fine company. Though, as I see it, you haven’t too long a trip back to your bed,” he joked, “so I trust you’ll be able to hold your own.”

When she coughed, Galin struggled to contain his laughter a moment, then did his best to hide his mirth by drinking some of the whiskey himself. “Made up north, of course, and just a few miles from where I was born. I still know the family that runs the place and they don’t subscribe to the popular notion that I am a bag of boiled goat arseholes, so they send a barrel down when they can, a little taste of home.” He sipped at the whiskey and finally smiled openly at Katja, the alcohol lowering his defenses enough to show he was genuinely enjoying her company. “You know, I haven’t done this in… damn, I can’t even remember. It must be years now, though I bet Coops would know, that interloping, meddling bugger.”

Before he could explain what he meant, the door swung open and a dusty, exhausted messenger nearly collapsed onto the table. Galin pushed his whiskey into the man’s hands and took a sealed letter from him. He recognized the seal as one from the Highlands, belonging to a lord that had always sent men to Galin’s company rather than see them hang for petty crimes in the north. His hands were shaking as he pulled the seal from the parchment and began to scan the letter, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on the message within. He muttered words as he read them, his eyes slowly lighting up as he came to the end of the message. “Orcs… Alfric’s besieged… oh that bastard… tribes rising together… six weeks, maybe eight… send help…” Galin shook the messenger’s hand as he gulped the whiskey and grinned like a madman. “So there’s war in the North, boyo, and we’ve been invited to the dance!” Clapping the man on the back, he pushed the letter across the table to Katja. “The man who’s made sure I’ve been living here these ten odd years is in trouble in the North, Kat, and my last friend up in the Highlands is calling on me to help. Orcs have Alfric’s keep surrounded and the word is, he won’t last the winter. So we will be dealing with the cheating bastard count later. It’s time to head home!”

Without thinking, he leaned down, took her face in both his hands, and kisses her soundly on the lips, then let go and grinned even wider. “Damn, but you’re a fine looking woman,” he said with obvious admiration, and winked at her as he grabbed her by the hands and pulled her to her feet. “Maker alive, this is grand news. A proper fight, and there’s a job for you too, of course. But I’ve got to get planning,” he said, delight suffusing his voice. He spun her around as though they were dancing, then held her still and kissed her again in his excitement. His face colored a moment as he looked at her, in front of him, as he pulled away, but he kept smiling. “It’s a grand day, so it is,” he said and grinned so widely that the harshness he so commonly exhibited melted away in boyish excitement. “Now, Kat, I’ve got to tell Cooper and get this whole thing started. Thank you for a lovely evening and I look forward to doing it again, if you’ll have me!” And then, with a wink and hug, he nearly sprinted out of the room, shouting for Cooper to get on his useless feet.

The soldier, fortified with whiskey, looked stunned at Katja. “Galin’s gone mental, he has. Ain’t seen him like that since… Maker’s bollocks, since before the plague took Herself and he got stuck fighting these piss ant local squabbles. Looks like the old bugger just needs a proper fight, and…” He trailed off and winked at Katja. “Well, goodnight, miss,” he concluded and took his leave, leaving the company’s newest recruit alone in the center of a maelstrom of excitement and hurried preparations as the company readied itself for war.

Author: Katja, Posted: Tue Dec 26, 2017 9:38 AM, Post Subject: A New Recruit (P)(R)

Galin’s statement was enough to give Katja pause, though when she caught the blush in his cheeks she thought better of poking any further fun at him. She let out a bit of a laugh as he proceeded to inform her that she had not been the only one with an unexpected and frankly unwelcome visitor after their training session. She waved her hand in a dismissive motion as he seemed to stumble over what to address her as, reaching for the wine as he passed it to her. “Kat’s fine, or Katja - whatever you prefer, I don’t really care either way,” she said, proceeding to raise her glass in return to his toast, taking a rather long drink herself, savoring the taste. It was much better than anything she had tasted in quite some time, which spurred her to take another drink. “Cooper did alright - you almost look like a proper gentleman,” she added, taking in his appearance as the doors open and their meal arrived from the kitchens.

A thankful smile crossed Katja’s face as Galin served her meal. “Thank you,” she said, taking in the sheer amount of food that sat before them. While she had been eating rather well since she had joined the company, the meals she had on a daily basis were nothing compared to what sat in front of her. She quietly ate and drank as Galin offered a bit of information on his past, nodding here and there out of interest and acknowledgement. She let out a laugh towards the end of his tale as he described the fighting between he and Cooper, chuckling at the mental image it stirred in her brain.

Katja had refilled her cup twice during the story, and was halfway through the second fill when Galin concluded and apologized for rambling on, complimenting her in the process. She chuckled again, subconsciously toying with her hair and pushing it over her shoulder on one side as he spoke of it. “That’s why it’s braided during training,” she said, smirking at him. “So unless you’re planning on taking me down here in the office like you did on the field, I think I’ll be just fine right now,” she said. She held the smirk while she spoke, though her words came out in a bit of a sputter as she was unsure how to react to his compliment, as he clearly had not intended on making it.

“I’m actually afraid I don’t have a lot to tell you about myself,” she said, leaning back in her chair a bit. She held her cup of wine in her hand, pushing her plate forward slightly as she had eaten enough to be pleasantly full at the moment. “I’ve been in Adeluna as long as I can remember… which isn’t much longer than a year,” she said, glancing up at him with a bit of a frown crossing her face. “Bit over a year ago, an older couple found me unconscious outside the city walls,” she said, her brow furrowing slightly as she began the explanation. “Looked as though I’d taken a nasty spill from a horse - had nothing but the clothes on my back and a pack with a few belongings in it. Couldn’t remember spit but my given name, not even a family name,” she added, and paused to take a drink from her cup.

“That couple… they were good people,” she said, smiling a bit. “They took me in, clothed me, fed me, all in exchange for some work on their farm. About three weeks in, bandits hit the farm. I slipped away unnoticed, but that couple… found them in the barn with their throats slit,” she said, her face focused in an attempt to remain stoic. “Took what I could and head into the city, hoping maybe someone would recognize me… but that’s when I realized that I was rather good at remaining unseen - hence the drop into thieving, you see?” she said, and finished off the cup, leaning forward and setting it down on the table. She forced a grin and directed her gaze back to Galin. “It wasn’t too bad of a life, if you don’t mind half-starving to death most of the time,” she said. “But, that’s about it. Brings us right to the night you could have had me killed but didn’t - which thanks for that, by the way,” she added with a hint of a wink.

Not much longer after the reveal of Katja’s history, or lack thereof, the doors to the office opened and one of the women from the kitchens came in to clear their meal. She carried with her a smaller tray holding a decanter and two glasses, which she set down, explaining that she had been told they wanted a decanter of whiskey for after dinner. The meal was cleared with only the wine and whiskey being left. After the woman left, Katja looked at Galin with a raised eyebrow. “Whiskey?” she asked, shifting her glance from him to the decanter. “Didn’t you already let me make enough of a fool of myself on the training grounds? I guess if I wake up with a black eye, I’ll know it came from tripping and falling into my bedside table and not Cormac busting my face up this time” she quipped, though she moved to pull the tray towards her, and proceeded to pour a decent helping of the whiskey into each of the glasses, sliding one across the table to Galin before taking the other glass for herself, raising it up towards him before taking a gulp.

She swallowed the whiskey and let out a bit of a cough, setting the glass on the table. “That’s… that’s a bit more potent than any whiskey I’ve had,” she said, blinking a few times. After the initial burn wore off, she took another drink, letting it rest on her tongue for just a moment. “Good, though. Very good,” she added.

Author: Galin, Posted: Sun Dec 24, 2017 7:49 PM, Post Subject: A New Recruit (P)(R)

“Maker’s sake, Coop, what are you doing?”

Galin had taken his time preparing, knowing that he would be ready far faster than Katja. He had even scrubbed the mail haubergon and hung it so that the leather liner would dry trying to pass the time. He usually would have gone to the office and worked on some of the company’s invoices and the like, but he did not want to accidentally run into Katja and give her the wrong idea after the prior bathtub incident. So, while the kitchens were finishing a meal that Maria, with a bundle of clothing in her arm, bustled in to direct, over Galin’s protests, he sat sharpening his sword to take his mind off the strangeness of the afternoon’s training. Something had panicked him and he was a stranger to the feeling. It left him feeling uncomfortable and he decided to put it out of his mind and focus on the simple, relaxing habit of sharpening his blade. That was, until Cooper nearly kicked the door in, Galin’s formal clothes in tow.

“No fighting me, Galin, not on this. Maria’s said it’s a good idea and I am not going home to that woman without you in a proper set of clothes. She’ll have me bollocks if I fail, so I beg you, please, please don’t fight me. Just put on the kit, placate the woman, it will.”

Galin threw his sword onto the bed and glared at Cooper with undisguised annoyance. “And why does it matter what I wear to have a meal in with one of the company, eh Cooper? Your wife’s never made me put on that when I’m eating with you lot,” he groused, but knew better than to put Cooper at odds with his fiery wife. He tugged off his tunic and replaced it with the dark green company one with ill-grace and took the trousers from Cooper. As he pulled them on, Cooper smirked a moment, and answered Galin’s question. “Well, sir, here’s the thing. If you were looking at me the way you were looking at Katja this morning, Maria wouldn’t be letting you around for supper anymore, if you get my meaning.” Galin glared at him with increased malevolence as he tied the points of his trousers and buckled the thick leather warbelt around his waist.

“I haven’t a fucking idea what you’re getting at, Cooper, and if you have something else to say, I’ll suggest you keep it to yourself before I ram the words down your bloody throat.” While Galin settled his sword and long fighting knife in their respective sheathes, Cooper poured them each wine from the pitcher on Galin’s sideboard.

“Have a drink and shut your gob, sir. No need to have you going to see Miss Kat with a black eye and I swear on the Maker’s shield, I’ll belt you if you don’t stop growling at me like a stray dog,” he said with a grin, meaning every word but without any malice. Galin, he had learned, had no sense when it came to women and Cooper swore he was going to have to bodily throw Galin at a woman for him to take the hint. Sighing through his nose in exasperation, he watched as Galin threw back the cup of wine without blinking and poured himself another. So he was nervous. Probably didn’t know what about, the idiot, but it was there. Galin only drank like that when he was nervous and the second cup took only seconds longer than the first to disappear. “You may want to go easy on that, sir, seeing as you have a long night ahead of you,” Cooper quipped and pulled the pitcher over to his side of the table.

“A long night… Oh I swear I’ll break you back to mucking out the stables, you smug bastard. Now I have on the silly damned outfit and the kitchens are making whatever it is your harridan of a wife’s told them to make, and I don’t think there’s a damned thing more I can do. So with your leave, you insufferable prick, I’ll go and make sure there’s room enough among the papers and books in there to have a meal with another bloody person.” Galin flung the clay cup at Cooper, who caught it deftly, and stalked out of the room, down the hall to his former quarters, followed by Cooper’s helpless laughter.

The kitchens would have the food ready within a quarter of an hour, Galin reckoned, so that was enough time to sit down, compose himself, and have a drink. Maria had already had the room cleaned, though Galin wondered where he would find his papers when this was all over. There were signs of Maria’s hand all over the apartment – a new tapestry over a drafty arrow slit, more comfortable chairs around the table, and his wine set replaced with a silver set from the company’s strongroom. Galin admired the work on the silver a moment, an engraved hunting scene that looked so real that the stag may have leapt off the cup, and wondered who had paid them with the set. It was hard to keep track, after so long.


Galin did not hear the door open and only turned when he heard Katja’s voice. He tried to speak, but for a moment, his words seemed trapped in his head and he closed his mouth sharply. Maria had done some job on the company uniform and it seemed to fit her as though it had been made for her, not taken from the company stores. He could not remember a time when she had worn her hair around her shoulders and it suited her, he thought, and yet he could not put a single one of those thoughts into words. Instead, he stammered a moment at her jibe and had the good grace to blush slightly. “I was not waiting long, though it was definitely something worth waiting for,” he managed to get out, and then poured them both wine and sat across from her.

“Oh, Maria sent Cooper after me, had me dress up in this ridiculous kit so I look like some Adelunan fop. No offense, of course Kat… Katja… miss, it’s just still foreign to me after these ten odd years.” Rather than stammer on, he passed her the wine and smiled. “To your health,” he toasted, then sank half the cup again to cover his nervousness. “And Cooper ain’t much better than his wife, mind. He just likes to play the henpecked husband for the sympathy.” Galin paused when he heard a knock on the door, and trays of food arrived, fresh bread, steaming roast beef, cheeses, vegetables, and two extra flagons of, if the one on his mantle was anything to judge by, some of the better in the company’s cellars.

As they began to work their way through the food, Galin taking care to be polite and serve her first with as much grace as he could muster, he found time to finish his thought. “When I came down here, I was nothing but a wee slip of a boy with a sword and a bad history. Cooper and I never saw eye to eye, him having been at the wars when I was my mother’s tit. But I was assigned to his section from the first day and he and I, we were like rams, butting at every turn.” He paused and sipped his wine. “I was no skirmisher, see. Most of the lads in the skirmishing troops are from the lowland valleys in the North and I am from the mountains, and when we ain’t fighting the orcs, we are fighting each other.

“So Coop, he resented Domnall, the old commander, putting me in charge of the light troops and reckoned it was his job and I could piss off. I, of course, thought that it was mine and decided that, since it was during a bit of a crisis, the first plague that hit, about nine years back, that I’d beat the balls off him and be done with it. My one problem, you see, is that Cooper, as you know, is the size of a bloody bear and twice as strong, so all we did was bruise and batter each other until Domnall, on a stretcher no less, comes out to yell at us for being a bunch of morons. That settled it, more or less, and we served together ever since.”

Galin paused, flushed, between nervousness and the wine. “And there I am, gabbing on again. They ain’t wrong when they say you can’t shut a Highlander up. I’m so sorry, please, tell me something about yourself? All I’ve been able to figure is that you’re a better thief than a fighter, you’re honest to your word, and you sure to clean up nice with your hair done down like that.” Galin nearly choked when he realized what he said and desperately tried to correct it. “Ain’t good in a battle, though, that’s the trouble, too much to grab onto,” he muttered, looking into his cup to avoid her gaze, and waited for her to say literally anything to break the awkward silence that followed.

Author: Katja, Posted: Thu Dec 21, 2017 8:10 PM, Post Subject: A New Recruit (P)(R)

It seemed that Galin had anticipated her charge, and there was naught Katja could do as the warhammer hooked her legs, sending her toppling backward in a rather violent manner, the wind knocking out of her as her back slammed to the dirt. Before she had even regained her breath, Galin’s knees were restraining her arms - a notion which caused her to thrash beneath him. She released the grip on her mace, struggling to loosen herself from his grip. The attempt proved futile as his arm came to rest across her throat, and after another moment’s struggle, she relaxed, her arms falling limp beneath his knees. “You did,” she answered, the volume of her voice matching his own.

Katja’s gaze locked with Galin’s, and she swallowed in a somewhat nervous manner before parting her lips to say something, but was cut short by Galin awkwardly getting up, offering her a hand. She remained motionless for but a second longer, gripping his offered hand with hers and pulling herself to her feet with a bit of a groan - she had hit the dirt rather hard, after all. She nodded at his words as he addressed her technique, shaking off the odd feeling that had befallen her only moments ago. “I don’t think I could have lifted a mace properly when I started my training, let alone get a hit in on someone’s shield who is well seasoned in battle,” she responded as the crowd’s laughter died down and they began to disperse. She brushed a bit of dirt out of her hair before turning and bending over to retrieve her mace.

“Could have done better, I suppose,” she continued, as Galin asked her about her thoughts on the performance. “I mean, it also could have gone much worse - I did manage to connect with your shield, and that’s not something I’ve done yet the few time’s Cooper has paired up with me during training,” she said, a grin on her face. It was clear that she was proud of herself, but she did not sound smug - it was obvious that she knew she had quite a ways to go before she would be ready for any sort of real battle.

She laughed rather loudly at Galin’s question about her eating. “If Cooper tried to train me out of a good meal, I’d have snuck out of one of the keep windows in the middle of the night weeks ago,” she said, giving him another solid grin. “And a good meal sounds quite nice… I wouldn’t mind dining in somewhat quiet for once, rather than with the rest of the recruits… they eat like a pack of wild bore,” she said offhandedly, though her face reddened slightly as she thought back to the first time Galin had seen her eat. “I mean, everyone has their moments… but by the Gods, it’s every day with those boys,” she said, chuckling slightly. “I’ll need to get this dirt washed out of my hair, thank you,” she said, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Hit the ground a bit hard,” she added.

“Give me a few hours. And please - actually wait a few hours,” she said, jabbing at him slightly for when he had walked in on her bathing when she had first arrived. “See you in a while,” she said, turning to walk back into the keep. When she had reached her room, she stripped off her armor as quickly as possible, going about the motions of heating up some bathwater. When she had finished, she stripped the rest of her clothing off and climbed into the basin, closing her eyes as relaxation washed over her.

She heard the door to her quarters open not long after she had gotten in, and without opening her eyes, she let out an exasperated sigh. “Now I think you’re trying to see me in the bath on purpose, Gal-” she began, twisting and looking up, her words cutting off as she saw Maria smirking in the doorway, a bundle of clothing slung over her arm. “Um, hello… Maria?” she said, her cheeks reddening slightly. “Can I ask what you’re doing here?”

Maria scoffed at her, entering the room the rest of the way and laying the clothing out on her bed. She proceeded to spend the next several minutes speaking rather rapidly in the native Adeluna tongue to Katja - who, fortunately, was quite fluent in the language. From her words, it was quite clear that she was rather upset with the amount of bruises on Katja’s naked body, and also rather unhappy with how she was cleaning herself. She had made her way over to the tub and had rapidly begun scrubbing Katja’s hair, pushing her hands out of the way. “You’ll never get the grime out with that gentle rubbing,” she chastised. When Katja was cleaned to her liking, she passed her a towel and the girl climbed out of the wash basin, toweling off.

“You’ll need proper clothes for dinner, I’ve laid a set out on your bed - better than that rubbish you lot wear day after day,” she trailed off, clearly still irked from the tirade she had gone after Galin on earlier that day. Katja opened her mouth to protest, but it seemed as though Maria had been expecting it as she held up a hand. “You’ll wear that, and brush your hair out nice.” Katja snapped her mouth shut and nodded, having been at the keep long enough to know better than to argue with Maria. She was rather confused as to why Maria was taking such an interest in her appearance.

When Cooper’s wife had left her, she finished toweling off and analyzed the clothing that Maria had laid out with her, slowly pulling it on. Before dressing, she retrieved the poultice that Galin had given her, smearing just a bit over the cut on her face, wincing only slightly at the stinging as she rubbed it on. She turned back to the clothing and proceeded to get dressed. When she had pulled everything on, she realized that it was a modified version of the company’s dress uniform - a dark green tunic, though it had been tailored for her exact shape. It hung in the right places, and the neck lacing had been cut down much lower than usual. The black leggings were fit tight to the musculature of her legs, and in lieu of the black belt that the men usually wore, she had been given a black corset, crafted from leather with silver eyelets and hooks. A pair of clean black boots had been laid out for her as well. She pulled them on and walked over to the mirror, checking her appearance. She was now convinced that Maria had been measuring her in her sleep - the clothing fit her perfectly. She sat down and brushed out her hair until it was mostly dry, falling around her shoulders in loose waves. She popped over to the mirror again, giving herself a once over - where she paused briefly, suddenly wondering why she was so concerned with her appearance. She was, after all, just going to discuss her training with Galin, who just a few hours ago had seen her lying in the dirt, near defeat.

She shook it off after a moment, and walked out of her room and into the area Galin still used as his office. It seemed that he had beaten her there, and she took the opportunity for another jab. “I see you’ve learned patience in the last month,” she said, giving him a rather smirking grin as she stepped around the table, now standing across from him. “Truly sorry if you were waiting too long,” she said. “I was… Maria paid me a visit to tell me to wash my hair better,” she summarized, tugging at a strand of hair. She knew Galin would understand that the visit didn’t entirely consist of her inability to bathe herself, as he knew Maria much better than she did. Pulling out the chair in front of her, she sat down and immediately shifted uncomfortably, the fishboning in the corset rubbing awkwardly against the bruise on her side. “Please tell me that whatever we’re going to be eating also involves a decent amount of ale or wine… my muscles have taken a beating in the last day or so.”

Author: Galin, Posted: Thu Dec 21, 2017 1:11 PM, Post Subject: A New Recruit (P)(R)

Galin stood his ground to receive her advance, adjusting his grip on his shield. His feet shifted in the sand, finding his balance, and he slowed his breathing, calming himself like he did before any fight. He was not the sort of soldier that liked to fight angry but instead, he went into battle calm, thinking, letting his head do the work and his limbs would follow. Katja was still raw, nearly untrained, and Galin did not think that now would be the time to show her that her advance was too hesitant by dancing past her and swatting her back with his hammer. He considered it, for sure, but wanted to see her at her most confident.

Her first strike made Galin smile behind his shield, something that Cooper had been teaching since Galin had made his way south to join the company. Aim low, strike high, and confuse the bastard, he would always say, and Galin was glad to see that nothing had truly changed. Her feint was a good one and he lowered his shield a fraction in case the blow was the real thing. As the mace passed harmlessly in front of his feet, Katja flicked her wrist to change the mace’s momentum and backswung viciously at his head. Galin, without even thinking, lifted his left arm and hammered the shield into the path of the blow, angling it toward the ground so the mace bounced harmlessly off the limewood boards.

Katja had over committed with her strike and it left her vulnerable. Galin stamped forward, his boot throwing up a small cloud of dusty from the sandy ground, and thrust hard enough with the point of his hammer to poke her in the chest where the swing had left an opening. “Recover faster,” he said with a grin. “Unless you’d killed me with that first one, you’d be dead, leaving your chest open like that for all the world to see.” He winked at her over the rim of his shield as he stepped back, lowering his voice so only she could hear him. “And what a waste of chest, if memory serves.”

She snarled as she swung again and Galin parried the strike, made in haste, with ease, stepping inside the arc of the swing and taking the strike on the boards of his shield. As they pulled apart, Galin considered another attack but let Katja take the initiative once more with a charge headlong at him. When he was nearly chest to chest with Katja, he dropped the head of his warhammer, hooking it behind her legs, then shoved against her. The hammer behind her knees threw her off balances and she fell heavily to the ground. Galin followed her down, releasing the hammer to free up his hands. While she took a second to get her bearings, Galin was on top of his, his knees pinning her arms to the ground as he straddled her. As she struggled a moment, he was surprised by her strength and shifted so he bent lower with his arm across her throat. “I warned you about the hook, didn’t I,” he said, though more softly than he expected he would, finding himself focused on her pale blue eyes.

Suddenly his throat felt dry and his pulse was hammering at his neck. Something was strange, he thought, and could not understand what, even as Cooper and Maria snickered to each other as they leaned against the railing of the enclosure. He struggled to his feet uncertainly and reached his hand out toward her to help her to hers. “Well fought,” he explained, his voice loud enough to be heard by the gathered men again, “but rash. You need to learn to use your head as well as your mace. But I can’t blame you, can I, when your teacher’s got nothing between his ears but sheep shite, eh Owen?” The crowd laughed good-naturedly and began to head back to their duties, the show being over.

“So, Katja, how do you think you did? I wouldn’t mind discussing it, your performance, that is, maybe over a meal? You still do eat, right, or has Cooper trained that out of you as well?”

Author: Katja, Posted: Thu Dec 21, 2017 7:30 AM, Post Subject: A New Recruit (P)(R)

Katja eyed Galin’s battle scars as he exposed them and recounted what had led to their creation, her eyes lingering on his skin perhaps a moment longer than necessary in each instance. She let out a chuckle at his quip about taking an arrow in the rear. “I’ll take your word for it,” she said through her laughter, before their conversation took on a more serious tone. Truth be told, she had been expecting Galin to disagree with her suggestion about hauling sheepskins instead of grain for feed, or at the very least to be a bit offended by the fact that a woman, let alone a mere thief that had been caught stealing from the keep, suggested she had a better idea for the raid than he. She was pleasantly surprised when he agreed with her, returning his grin. “I’ve at least got some good ideas rolling around up here,” she said, tapping a finger to her temple, clearly indicating that her initial attempt to steal from the company had not been the best idea. “Glad to be able to put one to use.”

A wave of relief cascaded over her as Galin accepted her challenge to sparring. She had dreaded spending the day in her quarters with naught to do, as it would have made her feel rather useless. After all, she had a cut on her face, not a broken limb, and it would do her good to spar with someone other than the same old recruits she had been fighting with day in and day out for the past month. After he had said his parting words, she drained the rest of her wine from its cup and set it back on the table, heading back into her own room.

She quickly changed into a clean tunic and pulled her armor back on. A shoddy shield leaned against a wall in the far corner of her bedchamber, which she grabbed along with the flanged mace she had been issued during training. She hadn’t used the shield much in training thus far, but she assume Galin was going to test her abilities so thought it best to come well equipped. She had just about stepped out the door when she realized that her hair still hung loose around her shoulders, and hurried back into her room. She hastily set her equipment down and found a strip of leather, tying her hair into a loose braid over one shoulder and fastening it with the leather before grabbing her equipment and hurrying back out to the training grounds.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, could say!” Katja responded, a grin spreading across her lips as she stepped into the sand. She eyed the hammer as Galin swung it in front of him, listening closely to every word he spoke about its properties. If there was one thing she had learned during her training with Cooper and the new recruits, it was that listening was just as important as physically practicing. She held her shield at the ready, defensively raising it and quickstepping backward she Galin stepped toward her. When he lunged forward, she attempted to dodge back further, but she had not expected the hammer’s hook to pull her shield from its position. “Damnit,” she cursed under her breath, nearly losing her footing. She straightened back up, returning her shield to its position, her gaze shifting quickly to the people who had taken up a standpoint to watch their practice.

Her grip tightened on the shaft of the mace, and she decided that it was time to give it a shot. With her shield arm out in front of her, she took a few steps forward til Galin, the mace still low at her side behind her body. Swiftly, she feigned a low swing before shifting the momentum of the weapon and arcing it towards Galin’s upper body - but he was too quick for her and the mace connected with his shield, the sound echoing through the training yard. Not allowing herself to feel defeated, she quickly spun around and swung for the other side, her mace smashing into the shield once more as his reflexes proved superior. She let out an adrenaline-fueled snarl of sorts, her eyes narrowed as determination coursed through her.

She took a few quick steps backwards, shield still at the ready, waiting for Galin to strike at any moment. Her thoughts shifted back to her training with Cooper, and without warning, she charged toward Galin, shield up to protect her upper body and head and to act as a battering ram, her mace held at the ready behind her to swing when she had made contact with him.

Author: Galin, Posted: Wed Dec 20, 2017 8:55 PM, Post Subject: A New Recruit (P)(R)

Her response confused him. Then again, he had always found himself confused around women. A cavalry charge, he told Cooper, was less terrifying than a woman at arm’s length. At least the cavalry killed you quick and you knew it was coming. He had expected her to panic that he had touched her at all, though that was a fear he had most of the time with a woman. Maria, in one of her rattling, bi-lingual diatribes, tore into him for it, castigating him for having no faith when it came to women, but could she really blame him? He shook his head to try and clear it, listening as she explained the training ground accident. “Aelfric’s got too much of an opinion of his own prowess, that’s the issue. Quick as a stoat, he is, and strong, but got brains on him that would make this table look like it was a bleeding philosopher. And I’m worried it isn’t youth and exuberance and simply is the fact that he’s got cheese for brains.” Galin chuckled to himself, trying to push back the moments of tension before she scoffed when he touched his scarred cheek.

“Aye, I’ll wager you have seen worse. You are training under Cooper, after all, and that man is uglier than sin and we all know it. Just, never be saying that to Maria, mind, because that woman’s a she-beast of the highest order. Kindest woman I’ve known, of course, until you mention her husband’s face looking like it was carved into a potato by a drunk child that had never seen another human before in his life. Woman nearly carved me to bits with a roasting spit. I ain’t scared of much,” he said, laughing and taking a drink of his wine, “but I am scared shitless of that woman.” He caught half her glance as he turned back to the wine and began to rack his brain, wondering what she could have meant with the look. It was a futile errand, he told himself, as he polished off most of the next cup of wine. She had not stormed off, at least, and that was about as good an outcome as he could expect. What in the hell had he even been thinking, saying that? Maker above, he was losing his mind, he thought, or something close enough to it.

It seemed that she had been enjoying her training, he thought, as she relayed the stories. It was a good sort of pride, pride in the fact that she was competing at the highest level with the best of the recruits and holding her own. That was the sort of quality, Galin thought, which would make her a hell of an addition to the company. Anyone could be happy and brag about their accomplishments but it seemed that Katja was taking pride in her failures as well, taking them as a badge of honor, learning from them, and becoming stronger. Galin smiled at the thought, wishing that more recruits would have that sort of attitude. She even pushed up her sleeve to show the bruises from one of her encounters and he smiled broadly at her without any reservation in the smile. He leaned closer to look at the bruising and then she lifted her tunic to show a bruise on her ribs.

Even when he willed himself not to react, Galin sucked in his breath a fraction of a second before relaxing. Her bruised looked to be the shape of the issued boot to new recruits and Galin traced the shape of it while she explained that it was payback from a recruit whose nose she had broken. “Damn, woman, you’ll break half my recruits if you keep this up,” he quipped, pulling back to his side of the table and unlaced the front of his tunic, revealing a puckered, star shaped scar. “Arrow… crossbow bolt, more like, I took three winters back protecting a caravan. Split the bastard’s head with a war hammer after, of course, but by the Maker, it hurt like I was dying.” He pulled the fabric to the other side and gestured to a long, thin scar from his left shoulder to the center of his chest. “Never, ever get drunk and decide that you’ll be a man’s champion and fight an Egjoran swordsman over a tavern whore. Not my whore, that is, I was protecting a gentleman over her honor or something of the sort. Either way, his lordship paid and the Egjoran bled like a stuck pig. Apparently, it isn’t gentlemanly to hack at a man with a sword til his breaks then kick him in the ballocks. Learn something new every day.” He made to unlace his breeches and then laughed. “And I think I’ll spare showing you the time one of our own archers shot into a melee and hit me square in the arse.”

Katja sat next to him while she was speaking about the plan of attack and Galin felt a flash of uncomfortable warmth which subsided into nothing. Rather than focusing on it, he listened intently to her idea, nodding along with her logic. The northern mountains bred some of the best sheep in Canelux, both for skins and wool, and with winter coming on harder soon, sheepskins would be a valuable trade commodity, and who better to bring it south than two non-descript Highlanders. She was right, of course, and he contemplated arguing with her a little before he incorporated the idea, but relented. “You’re right,” he said simply and smiled at her, a crooked sort of smile, but a genuine one. “I think skins would be a better choice to bring in and I know Cooper’s cousin’s got a herd that we could use for our supply. I’ll have him write the breech-clouted savage as soon as we’ve finished here.”

When she asked him to train, the crooked smile straightened into a grin. Commanding the company meant that more of his time was devoted to the sort of work that a clerk ought to do and not enough to the military side of things. He practiced, of course, but not as much as he would look and Galin had never once turned down a challenge. “Oh, that’s a wonderful idea. Grab your kit and meet me on the training ground.” He clapped her on the shoulder as he stood up, itching for a fight. “And remember what I said about the Egjoran,” he said with a wink and ducked out of the room, nearly sprinting to his chamber.

He pulled on his boiled leather cuirass over his head, struggling without a page’s help. Over it he pulled his haubergon, a short mail coat, and he belted his sword and dagger around his waist, more out of habit than practicality. Training with Katja would be something that she would find useful, so rather than a sword, he thought, he would use his war hammer. Hefting the weapon, he felt the terrible power in the lead weighted head, then slipped his left arm through the loops of his shield before he met her on the sanded yard.

“So, lass, are you ready,” he asked, lazily swinging the war hammer in front of him. “This, this is something a bit different than you’re used to. The war hammer, you see, it’s got a spike to jab you, a hook to yank down your shield, and of course the hammer to beat you senseless. You’ve said your training has come a long way… Let’s see how far!” Grinning, he took a testing step toward her, shield up and his hammer low at his side, seeming to be testing he reflexes. Without warning, the step became a charge and he jammed the hammer forward, under her shield, using the hook to yank the shield out of alignment. “See, that’s what I was talking about,” he said, laughing as he released the hook’s tension and stepped back. “Now that you know what a crafty bastard like me can do, show me how you’d kill me.” Galin set his feet, raised his shield, and grinned at Maria and Cooper in the gathering crowd. “Come now, all these lovely people have come here to see you cave in my insufferable, deformed face. Don’t deny these fine people their enjoyment!” Galin laughed and shifted his weight to his rear leg, ever so subtly, and awaited Katja’s attack.

Author: Katja, Posted: Wed Dec 20, 2017 5:45 PM, Post Subject: A New Recruit (P)(R)

Katja tensed up slightly as Galin grazed a finger near the gash on her cheek, though she winced slightly as the cut stung at his touch. It seemed as though she was unsure of how to react to the gesture, but after a moment she turned away, moving to lean on the back of the chair nearest his, a blush of her own rising in her cheeks. “Training mishap. Aelfric’s heart is in the right place, but that boy gets a bit to excited and doesn’t think,” she began. “Swung his morningstar right at my head! Thankfully, my reflexes are sharp enough that I managed to take just a spike to the cheek… could have been quite a bit messier,” she said, forcing a laugh, though she knew she had been rather lucky if she were to be honest with herself.

She scoffed in a somewhat playful manner as Galin passed his touch over a scar on his own face and got up, clearly looking for something. “You say that as though your face is horribly disfigured,” she said, rolling her eyes slightly. “Believe me, I’ve seen worse,” she quipped, chuckling slightly. “I’m sure it’s not going to be the last injury I get from training,” she continued, still leaning on the chair as he returned with the item he had been searching for - but her eyes lit up when he explained what it was. She reached out to grab the jar, glancing up at him at his comment regarding her appearance, though he had already turned away from her to refill his cup of wine. “Thanks,” she added, turning the jar over in her hands before setting it back on the table, resigning herself to using it later on.

“Training is going well, I think,” she said. “None of the men go easy on me, that’s for sure,” she added. “Though, I think they’d be a bit fearful for their lives if Cooper caught any of us going easy on one another,” she added. “They were a bit hesitant at first, after what they all heard you did to Dermot when he suggested that… punishment for me,” she explained. “‘Best not to hit a lass,’ and all that righteous nonsense,” she scoffed. “That went right out the window when Cooper knocked me on my ass, they realized I was just as fair of game as any of the other men,” she added. “Don’t let that fool you, though… Just last week Cooper had us practicing a bit of hand to hand, and I knocked one boy cold to the stone… Cormac. Busted his nose up right well.” She stood up straight and walked to the other side of the table, leaning across it and rolling up one of her sleeves. The majority of her left forearm was a nasty shade of green, the remnants of a fading bruise. “That was thanks to Peadar, kicked my feet out from underneath me,” she went on, before turning sideways and grabbing the hem of her tunic.

She lifted the tunic up on her right side, using her other hand to hold the front down. A large, dark purple bruise showed against the pale tone of her skin, suspiciously shaped like the boots many of the recruits wore. Though she had been at the keep for a month now, the lengthy period of near-starvation beforehand was still apparent in her physique. Her ribcage was rather visible beneath the bruise, though it had improved considerably in the time she had been there. “That was the thank you I received from Cormac for breaking his nose,” she said, smirking slightly before dropping the tunic down and shrugging. “I’m certainly learning how to take a hit, if nothing else,” she added with a chuckle.

“I think I’ll be ready… but I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the plan you explained to me,” she said, and walked back around the table. She made her way over to the table where Galin had poured himself a bit of wine and poured some for herself as well, walking back over to the chair she had been leaning on beside him and pulling it out, taking a seat. “If I’m not out of line… I’ve a suggestion,” she chanced, and when Galin didn’t protest, she continued on. “The idea of the cart and all, it’s great… but what if we went with something a bit more believable than forage and feed for the stables?” she said. “What I mean is… don’t you think a couple of Highlanders would be a bit more believable if they were bringing in sheepskins instead?” she asked. “It wouldn’t be too hard to come by enough for a cart full,” she said, her gaze tilting up to the ceiling for a moment before her blue eyes shifted back to Galin. “I mean no disrespect. I just know that, were I the one inspecting the shipments entering a protected area, I’d pay a bit less attention to you and Cooper if you had a load of hides rather than barrels of grain,” she explained.

After a moment of silence, she took a deep drink from the wine she had poured for herself and spoke once more. “That being said, if you’ve a free afternoon, Cooper told me to take the rest of the day off, apparently I accomplished my training by bleeding on the dirt,” she said. “I hardly see you on the training grounds… we could spar a bit and you could see how my training has progressed?” she asked, grinning at him slightly, as though she were rather eager to show to him just how much she had learned in the month she had been there.

Author: Galin, Posted: Wed Dec 20, 2017 1:22 PM, Post Subject: A New Recruit (P)(R)

“Men. The nerve of them…”

Maria, the Adelunan wife of Owen Cooper, muttered to herself as she inspected the washing from the basket she had taken from the garrison quarters. Half the men, she thought, made it their mission in life to cover their clothes in as much filth as humanly possible with a heady mixture of stale sweat, spilled beer, whatever they had eaten throughout the week and the gods knew what else. And on top of it, some of the garments were so threadbare that she was worried that the washing would remove the grime that probably held them together. Some of the tunics were distinctive enough that she made mental notes to badger the individual soldiers about their cleanliness when she returned the clothes to the garrison. She had learned enough of the Highlanders’ language from Cooper to be able to curse a man for a full minute without repeating herself and some of the men would learn that within the day.

She took nearly a full hour to finish the washing and, as she feared, some of the tunics were beyond the point of mending. One of them was a particular disaster and she tucked it under her arm rather than go through the farce of drying it with the others. Instead, she marched up from the stream below the garrison, right up past the stables to the practice yard where the newer recruits were being given instruction in unit maneuvers before they broke off into individual training. Cooper raised a hand to wave at his passing wife but he saw the pinched look on her face and thought better of it.

As her husband bellowed orders, Maria turned sharply around the corner of the armory and quite literally ran into the man she was looking for with a solid thud. Galin turned away from observing the practice from the armory’s shadowed portico as Maria bounced off his back and was about to excuse himself when the Adelunan launched into a stream of invective that was a creative mix of Adelunan and the Highland tongue, but Galin was about to follow just about well enough. If his translation was correct, he was the son of a motherless goat, was going to make her go grey with worry, and ungrateful for the care she took of him if he would let his tunic get to such a state. To emphasize her point, Maria stuck her arms through two holes in the garment, pushing them up to the shoulder to highlight the extent of the disrepair.

Before he could protest, Maria grabbed him by his arm and dragged him back toward the keep, continuing to curse him under her breath, be he could see the good natured sparkle in her eyes and endured the tirade with good humor. When they reached the chamber he had occupied for the past month, she half shoved the soldier inside and pointed at the chest at the foot of his bed. “Take out anything with a hole in you, you son of a goat, and pile them here. I will decide what to mend and what you must replace because you are clearly without enough sense to do that yourself, you… you…. You man!” Galin looked suitably chastened and upended the chest, letting two tunics and a pair of trousers drop onto the bed. “So few? What in the nine hells do you have against buying a tunic, you northern savage,” she asked before she shook with laughter.

Galin laughed and poured them each a cup of wine as she looked with a mixture of disgust and amazement at his clothes. “To be fair, I’ve got the fancy tunic for meeting the noble buggers in the armory, and trousers as well. So it ain’t as bad is it looks… But I may need another pair, eh?”

Maria glared at him and took the wine. “Another pair? You’re the bloody leader, a fucking lord in anything but title, and you look like a… like a pig farmer with not enough pigs. And it won’t do anymore, especially with the new… what do you say… lassie, yes? The new lassie around!” Maria hoped that her words would have an impact and she was not disappointed. Galin choked a moment and his face flushed and before he could stammer a reply, the spitfire woman continued, like a hound scenting blood. “And since when does a commander take so much notice of the new recruits, yes? That is work for my husband and yet, these last weeks, I have seen you down at the ground, always by the armory, watching. Is it to see all the new soldiers, I wonder, or to sneak a glance at the pretty one, and I do not mean Aelfric?”

“I don’t need to take this from you, woman,” Galin said defensively, color rising from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. If Maria knew then Harper surely did as well and he could only imagine what the pair of them was saying. And if she knew, Galin thought, half the fort knew because Maria, for all her wonderful qualities, was an inveterate gossip. “You… do what you will with those clothes and don’t let the door hit your arse on the way out. I will go to the company offices and draw up and order for new tunics from that tailor on Kingsroad in the capital. Good day, Maria,” he said, his face still beet red, and left her there as she dissolved into laughter that echoed down the hall behind him.

Galin sat heavily at the cluttered table in the chamber outside Katja’s and began to do as he said, drawing up an order for fifty new tunics for the Company so that the men’s shirts would not end up in as sad a state as his had. He was not as fluid a writer as his clerks but he was legible enough, though it took a great deal of concentration. He heard his name but did not look up immediately, waiting to finish forming the words on the parchment. When he did look up, Katja was sitting in front of him and his closed his mouth firmly before he said anything untoward after Maria’s insinuations moments before. “I… uh… aye, it’s been an age, hasn’t it? And what’ve you done to yourself there?” He reached out and traced his finger along the line of the cut without thinking too much of it, then reddened again.

“You’ll be needing something to make sure you don’t end up like me,” he said, self-consciously fingering a scar on his left cheek. He got up abruptly and began to rummage through a small cabinet in the office. “Ah, here,” he crowed in triumph and tossed a dusty, cloth-covered jar onto the table. “Poultice in there will make a scar pretty much unnoticeable. Used to have a proper physician here, mixed medicines and the like, until the plague, but that should still be good. Use as much as you need, of course. No sense in scarring up such a pretty face.” Realizing what he said a second too late, he turned, poured a cup of wine, sunk it, and refilled the cup before sitting down again. “So, how is the training treating you? I hope well, of course, because in a week or two, we will be heading to get the money you tried to steal from me before. Do you think you’ll be a little more successful this time?”

Author: Katja, Posted: Wed Dec 20, 2017 9:25 AM, Post Subject: A New Recruit (P)(R)

Katja was far too worried about the food in front of her to care much about the jabs Galin made at her, other than shooting him a look with narrowed eyes. When Galin began explaining just what the task at hand would be, and what would be expected of her, she listened with her gaze fixed on him, looking away only to grab a stray olive or take a drink of her wine while he spoke. Her fingers came to rest upon the map he pushed across to her, pulling it closer and having a quick look at it. She nodded her understanding, looking up as he noted her training assignments.

Her gaze followed his hand as he retrieved the last olive left of the meal, and she let out a short laugh. “Believe me, had I known that was there, you wouldn’t think me so considerate,” she said, though it was rather clear that the comment was in jest. “As for questions, I’ll be honest with you - I’m sure there are a million questions I could think of to ask you, some stupid, some not… but to be frank, I’m too tired to put them in words,” she added, her gaze drifting towards the doorway to the bedchamber she had been given. “If you don’t find it impolite, I’d love to be able to get some proper rest - besides, I’m sure Cooper can answer questions I’ve got nearly as well as you can, right?” she asked. With that comment, she drained her cup of wine and set it down gently on the table, pushing her chair out and standing up. “Thanks for the food, and the wine,” she said, flashing him a quick grin. “Oh, you know, and the place to sleep, and the place to bathe, and, well, you know - my life?” she added with a quick laugh. With that she turned and walked toward the bedchamber door, pausing at the threshold and turning around to bid him goodnight, before entering the room and readying herself for sleep.

The next morning, Katja fitted herself with the leather armor that had been in the chest in her room, and reported to training with Cooper, along with several other new recruits. It seemed their training was rather self-explanatory, but also rather necessary. It included elements such as the proper method in which to wield your chosen weapon, ways to dodge enemy attacks, formations, and other things that would help them to stay alive while in the field - though not necessarily in depth enough for them to fight on the front lines. This training went on for weeks, it seemed, and Katja’s routine became rather monotonous - sleep, wake up, eat, train, eat, train, eat, bathe, sleep… day, after day, after day.

One particularly brisk morning, Cooper had paired the recruits off for a bit of sparring, to practice parrying the weapons they had been designated. Katja found herself paired off with Aelfric, a fairly well built young man who had been equipped with a morningstar, while she yielded a simpler version of a mace. Following Cooper’s commands, the pair went about it rather smoothly, until Aelfric swung at an inopportune moment, the morningstar headed straight for Katja’s face. Instinctively, she managed to lean backward away from the hit, though one of the morningstar’s spikes caught her cheek, slicing open the pale flesh just below her eye. She fell back onto the ground, the adrenaline coursing through her body enough to keep her from immediately feeling the pain of the blow.

Cooper walked swiftly over to the pair, cracking Aelfric on the back of the head with a swift smack from an open palm. “Form today, you dolt, not swingin’,” he said, while Aelfric doubled over before regaining his balance on his feet. “Alright down there?” he asked Katja, who nodded quickly.

“Fine,” she said, getting back to her feet. “Just lost my footing when I dodged him,” she added. She leaned down, dusting her leggings off, and noticed a few drops of blood fall into the dirt. She straightened back up and brought a hand to her face, wincing at the sting as her dirt-covered fingers came in contact with the wound the morningstar had left. “Damn,” she cursed, wiping at her face with her sleeve, which proved to be an unintelligent move as the wound was a bit deeper than she had expected. The off-white sleeve of her tunic came away covered in red, and she glanced up at Cooper, who seemed to be holding back a chuckle.

“Didn’t lose your footing, lass, you took a cold piece of metal to your cheek,” he said. “Go get yourself cleaned up, before the training yard looks like a butcher’s block, and take the rest of the day,” he instructed, to which Katja immediately opened her mouth to protest.

“I don’t need to miss training, I’m fine to continue,” she added, but Cooper merely pointed to the keep’s entrance, which Katja took as instruction to get moving.

Blood still trickling down her cheek, Katja turned to head back inside the keep, knowing that following orders would be in her best interest. As she walked off, she could hear Cooper shouting to the rest of the recruits to get back to work. Once back to her quarters, she readied a bowl of water and a cloth. She spent the next several minutes dabbing at the gash on her cheek, dipping the cloth in the water to rinse the blood from it. When the blood had stopped seeping out, she patted at the wound with the dry end of the cloth, before setting everything down. She took a look at herself in the dusty mirror off to one side of the room and frowned - the gash was about an inch and a half long, and rather deep - but nothing that would need stitches. It would heal on its own given time, but would likely leave a faint scar.

She sat at the edge of her bed, loosening the buckles of her chest piece, discarding it on the floor. She had just begun to remove her tunic to change into one that didn’t have sleeves smeared in blood, when she heard a bit of movement in the room adjacent to her bedchamber. Dropping the hem of her tunic, she walked over to the door and pushed it open, only to see Galin at the main table.

She walked out into the room, and over towards the table, her boots heavy against the floor. “Galin,” she said, grinning as she walked over towards him. “Been a while. How’s… whatever it is you’ve been up to?” she said, shrugging her shoulders as she awkwardly attempted to make conversation with the man that had spared her life. Since she had begun her training with Cooper, she had hardly seen him other than in passing - but here she was, midday and not on the training grounds, affording the opportunity for her to run into him.

Author: Galin, Posted: Tue Dec 19, 2017 9:22 PM, Post Subject: A New Recruit (P)(R)

“I noticed,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ve got eight year old boots that smelled better and I’ll wager that the leather’s cleaner than you were.” He was about to comment about the unfortunate accident moments before when she ripped a piece of ham from the tray and tore into it like a savage animal. Instead of interrupting to apologize for his mistake, he walked over to the sideboard and poured himself a cup of the dry red wine he had come to enjoy during his sojourn in the southern lands. As much as he wanted to return to the north and clear his name, he was, if he was perfectly honest with himself, strangely content in the south, despite its strange ways and soft people. “And the food is for you,” he said, sipping at the wine as she returned to savaging the trencher, “and even if it wasn’t, I am afraid that I would lose a hand if I tried to take any of it now.”

While she was eating, he took a good look at her for the first time without the grime of the streets covering her. With her hair wet, in half light, he could even see a touch of her in Katja, the woman that owned the clothes in the trunk. Galin turned away a moment so Katja could not see the tears that pricked at the corners of his eyes. When he heard her slowing her attack on the food, he cuffed his eyes then turned back to take a seat across the cluttered table from her. “I am kind to all sorts of criminals. You don’t get to lead a company of free soldiers without doing it. Hell, even Cooper was set for a short drop and a sudden stop in the north for stealing sheep, and here he is, leading my archers like a proper soldier. So maybe, I figure, you can do the same. Not leading archers, of course, but making a proper addition to our little company.” Galin took a long pull of the wine then chewed his lip while he tried to form his words. “Pass me that parchment, will you?”

Galin took the sheet, a hide that had been scraped down twice and was destined to be burned. Galin could faintly make out the ink marks from the last scraping, a small, precise hand detailing an ambush by Bohari lancers while transporting a dignitary. It seemed like a lifetime ago and perhaps it was for him. He brushed the thought aside and picked up a piece of charcoal and began to sketch the outline of a small castle: an outer bailey, a gatehouse, some stables and storehouses, garrison quarters, an inner bailey with its own gate, and a keep. “So, there may be something we will be doing to get even with the gentleman that decided that it would be wise to pay us in halfway worthless coin. But it won’t be soon, see? We know that right now, the count will be hiring other mercenaries to guard his fortress and doubling patrols through his demense waiting for us to come roaring after him. Instead, we will wait, maybe even half a year, and then we will take what’s ours.

“You, Cooper, and I will take a cart into the town outside the fortress and the rest of the company will wait a half a mile outside the town limits, out of sight. We use the cart to get into the outer bailey, stay there to trade. It will be the dry season then and they’ll need feed for the garrison’s horses, so that will help them not look to closely. We will store our weapons and armor in one of the feed bags and once night falls, you’ll get into the keep for us. Coop and I will do the rest, negotiating with the Count, so to speak. He won’t be breathing come morning, so we will need to make our escape. While you are larking about with lock picks, Cooper and I will be swapping the feed for barrels of shit, if you’ll pardon me. Needs to be carted out of the garrison and no one looks too long at the shit collectors. We stick the silver in one of the tuns and then head out through the gates with the other carters. By the time they notice the rich prick is dead, we will be with the rest of the company, riding like all hell for this lovely place, where we will hole up and protest our innocence. I also have the good fortune to own a magistrate after we saved his plump arse from a bunch of rather damning rumors involving the young son of a noble family, so the courts will find in our favor and the world will continue to spin.”

Galin pushed the map across to her. “Read it well, memorize it, and be ready. I’ll have more details for you in the coming weeks, and probably a few more little tasks. Nothing too dangerous, not til you’ve got proper training. You may be a thief but a half drunk City Guard could have your hide. To prevent that, you’ll be assigned to Cooper with the other new lads, learn enough to make sure you can get out if the going gets rough.” He finished the wine in his cup and set it down in front of him. “So, before you start your glittering career as a soldier of fortune, do you have any questions for me? Nothing too personal or too strange, but I’ll call you and idiot if it’s stupid.” He grinned and grabbed the last olive left on the trencher. “And what a considerate guest you are, saving the last one for me!”

Author: Katja, Posted: Thu Dec 14, 2017 1:29 PM, Post Subject: A New Recruit (P)(R)

“Not sure where the name’s from, if I’m to be honest,” she confessed. “Been in Adeluna as long as I can remember,” she added, and while her memory only spanned back so far, the statement was far from false. She was sure she had come from somewhere - just not sure whether or not Adeluna was her hometown.

Frankly, Katja could not blame Galin for his comments on her appearance. After all, she hadn’t enough coin to get a decent room in quite some time, which meant little opportunity to bathe oneself without breaking into someone’s home midday when they were away. Of all of the ways her failed attempt at thievery could have gone, she would not have imagined in a myriad of years that she would be offered a bath of all things. She remained silent, nodding when appropriate and making small noises of comprehension. She didn’t want to push it, after all, so she snapped her mouth closed when he told her not to protest the offer of living quarters. Her eyes scanned the suite as the pair trekked through it, and she followed him through the doors into the bedchamber. Self consciously, she grasped at her long plait as he commented on her attempt to retrieve something within it. “Dagger,” she said quietly, turning her attention to the contents of the chest that he had opened. It seemed that she would be able to find what she would need within it.

After he had finished his explanation, she nodded in an effort to show Galin she understood. After he had hoisted the other chest onto his shoulder and made to move, she realized she had yet to thank him for being merciful in their encounter. “Thank you,” she called after him, though she was unsure as to whether or not the words would reach his ears. When she turned from the doorway, however, she was immediately swarmed by the women who had come in to bring the water for her bath. After a moment where they began to attempt to fuss with her dirty, ragged clothing and her unkempt hair, she made a bit of a face, holding her hands out for a moment before shouting at them to stop. “I’d rather bathe myself in private, if you don’t mind?” she said, attempting to sound as polite as she could. The ladies took their leave, and fortunately for Katja none of them seemed perturbed by her request to be left alone.

When silence had fallen over the bedchamber, Katja took a deep breath and let out a long sigh, thanking her lucky stars that she had not been maimed, killed, or worse that evening. Before anything, she walked to the table that sat beside the bed, pouring herself a decent helping of wine and downing it rather quickly. She swished it between her teeth a bit before swallowing. Galin hadn’t been wrong - it was nothing special, but it wa better than what her mouth had been filled with. She set her empty cup down and walked toward the steaming wash tub, quickly stripping her rather ragged clothing from her form and lifting herself into the water, sighing audibly in content as she felt the heat of the water wash over her. She dipped her head beneath the surface, wetting her hair, and reached for the small bar of soap that had been placed for her, proceeding to scrub days of grime from her skin and hair.

After all was said and done and she felt much cleaner than she had several minutes before, Katja reclined against the edge of the wash basin, stretching her arms out on either side. It wasn’t luxury comfort, but the water still held heat and it felt wonderful - she was going to enjoy it for as long as she could, since she had a feeling the tasks that Galin was going to set forth for her wouldn’t exactly be enjoyable. She closed her eyes for a moment - only to wrench them open at the sound of the door swinging open and Galin entering what no more than an hour previous had been his bedchamber, and had now become hers. Her immediate reaction was a sort of mixture between a shout and a gasp, and she drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms about them in an attempt to cover herself. For a split second, the panic and fear she had felt earlier returned, until Galin retreated almost as quickly as he had entered - it had clearly been an accident.

When Galin had left the room, she was quick to climb out of the wash tub and dry herself off, padding quickly over to the chest of attire. She fished out a tunic and some pants, both seemingly in much better condition than the clothing she had come in, which lay discarded on the floor - she was still rather unsure what to do with that, but would find out eventually. She picked up a leather chest piece and arm guards that she found in the chest, shutting the lid and setting them down on top for future use. Knowing she had taken long enough already, she walked back into the main room, allowing her hair to fall in damp twists about her shoulders. Her bare feet felt cold on the stone floor, but she wasn’t about to pull on the nasty boots she had just removed from herself, and she hadn’t bothered to find any in the chest just yet.

“Sorry to have taken so long. Been quite a while since I’ve had a proper bath,” she admitted. “Glad to see you’ve not expired from shame.” At that particular moment, she saw the plate of assorted foods he had brought in, immediately stepping towards it and grabbing some of the ham with her bare hands, tearing into it with her teeth. She swallowed the first bite and was about to take another, pausing just before and turning to look at Galin. “I, well. I really haven’t eaten in a while - that wasn’t a lie,” she said sheepishly, her cheeks reddening slightly as she realized that the food hadn’t been offered to her. “Apologies if the food was meant for you, and not for me,” she added, but when there was no protest she ate a few more things rather quickly.

When she had eaten enough to where her stomach was no longer giving her hunger pangs, and she had a half-full cup of the wine he had brought in clutched in her hand, a rather serious expression befell her face. “You’ve been… awfully kind to me, considering hours ago I tried stealing from you,” she said, her face looking mildly concerned. “That only leads me to believe that what you’re going to ask me to do is stupid, dangerous, difficult, or a combination of the three. So which is it? What am I going to have to do for you?” she asked, taking a drink of her wine with a contemplative expression on her face.

Author: Galin, Posted: Thu Dec 14, 2017 11:46 AM, Post Subject: A New Recruit (P)(R)

“Katja. Ain’t a northern name, that’s for sure, but we won’t hold that against you. Our lads, more or less, are from the Highlands and have washed up down here for a variety of reasons. Sure, there’s an odd Adelunan and for a few months we had a Mamlak bastard, black as midnight he was, but it’s mostly us northern savages. Don’t expect much, but we will treat you fairly if you treat us the same in return.” Galin bent down and untied the knot that bound her hands. “If you work with us, you’ll be fed, sheltered, and paid, same as any other soldier. I don’t expect you to stand in with the men-at-arms, being a wee slip of a thing, but you’ll serve in ways Owen and I can’t.” He tossed the rope back to Owen and motioned for Katja to follow him as he left the storehouse. “Coop, have Maria send some of the ladies to my quarters with water for a bath. Katja here smells like the south end of a northbound horse and it won’t do at all to have the newest recruit bowling anyone over with their stench.”

Galin led the newest member of his company back to the main keep where he still kept a suite of rooms. They had once belonged to a minor Adelunan lord who had rebelled against his liege lord. The company had been contracted to remove the lord and instead of a regular sort of payment in coin, the fortress, if it could be called that, and the surrounding lands were given to the Company to use as a base of operations and revenue. The local farmers and tradesmen were nervous about the uncouth northern men at first but found their taxes fair and their courts just, and so now they lived content in the cluster of houses outside the curtain wall. Galin had wanted to leave the chambers after the plague, give them to Cooper and his wife, but his friend had refused, saying that a commander would not be confined to a tiny chamber when his subordinate lived in comfort. So he remained in the room with its reminders of his loss, sharing the space with the ghosts of the past and his regrets, waiting for it to hurt just a little bit less.

“There aren’t really women on the rolls of the Company, Katja, just the wives and sweethearts, so until we figure out a living situation, you’ll have these rooms and I’ll move myself to the barracks with the lads. And don’t start protesting, I don’t want the damned rooms anyhow. There’s a draft,” he said, somewhat unconvincingly, as he pushed open the door. “The bed’s through there, that door, and I’ll leave the key for you. This main room will be used for planning and the like, so you’ll see me around more often than not, but the bedchamber’s yours and yours alone.” He walked past his cluttered desk with its maps, tax rolls, and logs, and pushed open the door to the bedchamber. “Now, I see you haven’t got a proper bit of armor and need something more than… whatever it is you’ve got in that braid you were playing with back there.” He pulled a small chest away from the foot of the four poster bed and brushed the dust from the top, tracing the L etched into the lid for a lingering moment, then flipped it open. Inside were women’s clothes and armor, all well-made and maintained, and sized for a woman of close to Katja’s stature.

“Take what you need from here,” he said brusquely, leaving the chest open for her. He dragged a matching chest from the side of the bed into the study outside. He would take it to one of the other rooms in the fortress later, he thought, as a throng of women started marching into the room with buckets of steaming water. “The ladies have drawn a bath for you,” he said and kicked the half of an ale tun that served as a bathtub in the corner of the room. “I will leave you to that and there’s wine on the table near the bed. I remember you said you wanted something to drink. It isn’t the best, but it’ll do better than dust and cow shit, I hope. I’ll return when you’ve finished and we can speak about how you will be of service in the coming days.”

While the women fussed over the new, dirty-faced girl, Galin lifted the iron-bound chest onto his shoulder and stomped out of the rooms, leaving them to their own devices. Down the hall, nearer the noisy kitchens, was a small vacant chamber that had belonged to one of the men-at-arms who had left the company to seek his fortune in the unrest in the north in the last year. It suited Galin perfectly, with its small writing desk, bed, and wash stand and none of the fancier amenities of the lord’s quarters. Once he stashed his chest by the bed, he turned down the hall to the kitchens to make up a plate for Katja. He cut a few pieces of ham from a haunch hanging near the fireplace and added some fresh bread, cheese, and olives, and another flagon of wine. The one thing he would admit that the southern realms outclassed the northern in was cookery and his exile had only confirmed this, making him a lover of the variety of flavors aside from boiled cabbage and salt beef. Popping one of the olives into his mouth, he returned to his former chambers and, without thinking, opened the door to the bedchambers as he had a thousand times before. Katja, he realized a moment too late, was not as quick a bather as he was, and was still stark naked in the bath.

“Maker’s bollocks, my mistake,” he stammered quickly and stepped back into the study. “When you’re not naked as the day you were born, I have some things to discuss. I will just wait here and see if I die of shame before you finish the bath. I’ll bet it’s a close run thing.”

Author: Katja, Posted: Wed Dec 13, 2017 12:26 PM, Post Subject: A New Recruit (P)(R)

Katja let out a pained noise as the man holding her restraints pulled back on the rope, her head violently rocking backward. The next few sentences that the illiterate underling spoke cause panic to arise within her, and she struggled against the restraints once more. The idea of being raped by a group of soldiers did not exactly sit well with her. She realized, however, that struggling against the ropes was doing nothing more than cutting the skin of her wrists, and she ceased, watching the man who had just arrived with a cautious eye as he stood up, addressing the man that had suggested her violation.

She had not expected the events which followed to unfold, a small smirk making its way onto her face as she watched Dermot take a knee between the legs, spilling the contents of his stomach to the floor beneath him. The smirk did not stick around long, as the rest of the men retreated at the command of the new arrival, leaving only he and Katja and one other man behind. A sick feeling crept into her stomach - was he going to follow suit with what the one had suggested, and just didn’t want to share with the rest of them? It seemed unlikely, considering the reaction he had towards the suggestion itself, but the fear was still there.

She watched silently as the man retrieved the key hidden beneath his clothing, unlocking the very chest she had been keen on breaking into. She could have spat some remark or hasty plea, but she saw no point. Her heart raced as she saw the contents, silently chastising herself for having been caught. She had been so close to liberating the contents when she’d been found - another minute or two and she would have had it. Soon, however, a rather angry string of curses jolted her out of her self-hatred and back to the scene at hand. She almost laughed. Here she was, bound and probably about to be executed, or worse, and she had been trying to steal a chest full of damaged, hardly tradeable coin.

For the next several moments, Katja found her body wracked with a bit of fear as the pair of men discussed what had taken place, though the fear increased as she was addressed directly once more. She cowered back a bit, the rope that had been used to drag her and keep her in place laying discarded on the stone, but she made no attempt to flee as her hands were still bound rather tightly, and she didn’t think they would let her get too far.

“Katja,” she said, her voice quiet and slightly shaky as she spoke. She revealed no surname, as she wasn’t sure she had one in the first place. It was clear that she was still a bit unsure about how the situation was going to unfold, as she waited for a few beats before answering the rest of his question. “I’m rather attached to both of my hands and I would prefer keeping them attached to my arms,” she began, clearly attempting to sound as confident as possible. “I assure you, I meant no personal offense by attempting to take your… coin,” she said, her eyes glancing back to the chest of shoddy silver. “I didn’t plan on taking much. I’ve hardly eaten anything in a week, and my coin purse is rather empty - walking cliche, aren’t I?” she said, laughing weakly. “‘Honest sir, wasn’ gonna’ take more than but a few coppers, me sister’s layin’ weak in the gutter!’” she said in a mocked voice. She shrugged her shoulders, twisting her head from side to side to stretch out her neck now that there was no tension from the rope.

“I’ll work off my crime, just tell me what it is you need me to do,” she said, nodding at Galin. “Normally, I don’t get caught,” she said offhandedly, as she assumed that ‘helping them to get what was theirs’ would entail putting her skills to good use. “Not to be greedy after you’ve so graciously spared me both life and limb, but I don’t suppose you could spare a bit of ale, or even just a skin of water? Got a nasty bit of dirt in my mouth from the lovely transport your men have given me.”

Author: Galin, Posted: Wed Dec 13, 2017 9:46 AM, Post Subject: A New Recruit (P)(R)

Dermot, one of Cooper’s archers, casually scratched the pox scars on his face and tugged at the rope holding the prisoner so her head jerked back before answering Galin. “Well sir, you knows I was on guard here, watching all vigilant-like. So I hears a noise, see, like a wee mouse, but I ain’t never seen a mouse trying to get into a crate of good silver. Grain, aye, that sort of thing, but silver ain’t no use to a mouse, says I, so I go to have a look, and have I found but this wee mouse of a girl trying to open on the strongboxes all secret like. So I grabs her up and trusses her up for yourself, sir, like a proper present. And she’d make a proper present, so she would, so long as you unwrap her first. Looks like there’s plenty there for us to enjoy, if you see my meaning, eh sir? You’d have her first, of course, but me and the lads wouldn’t mind a second round, complete the celebration proper, you ken?”

Galin stood up slowly, ignoring the would-be thief for a moment and looked at the poxed archer. He was a good soldier and could put an arrow shaft through a bracelet at two hundred paces, but at the moment, Galin was considering what he had not-so-subtly suggested. “So you’re saying I’ll have her first and then you lads take turns to properly remind her of the cost of trying to steal from us, eh Dermot? Is that what you’re suggesting?”

Dermot shrugged and looked at the woman again. “Well, she’s a thief, ain’t she? Needs punishing and we need a bit of fun, right lads?” A few of the other men murmured, though it was not sure if it was in agreement or simply curiosity about Galin’s intentions. Owen looked at Galin, his grey eyes filled with concern, but Galin did not meet them. Instead, he took a step toward Dermot and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Interesting idea, Dermot. Now, would you mind telling me in what bloody world I will stand around and watch my soldiers raping a fucking woman? Please, enlighten me, you pox-faced son of a whore.” Galin growled as he spoke then grabbed Dermot’s other shoulder for balance as he drove his knee hard into the man’s groin. Dermot made a strangled mewing noise and dropped to his knees, vomiting on the stone floor. “Anyone else want to see how I feel about Dermot’s idea? No? Good. Now get back to your posts or your quarters.” The men slowly drifted away, two of them dragging the prostrate Dermot out of the storehouse, leaving Galin, Owen, and the prisoner alone in the flickering torch light.

“So,” Galin said, fishing a key out from under his tunic, “this is what you were after? This silver?” He turned the key in the lock and after a series of clicks, the latch released and Galin pushed back the heavy, iron-bound lid. “This is the stuff dreams are made of,” he said, almost in a whisper and Owen leaned closer with a torch in his hand. The light glinted off the coins and Galin swore violently. “That fucking bastard,” he spat and lifted a handful of the coins from the chest. They were Adelunan silver crescents but they were anything but good coin. Some were clipped, some so old that they were worn thin, and some, he suspected were debased with other metal to make up the difference. In other words, the Count had lied and left before his treachery was discovered.

“Cooper, look at this. The bastard lied and gave us worse coin than an Adelunan prostitute keeps for change. Damn his eyes.” Galin stood up and began pacing and Cooper, well used to his commander’s temper, let him pace, keeping his eyes on the captive woman. “We have to hit him, Coop, you know that. Can’t let folks think that we can be taken in by a fop in a velvet fucking jacket… But we can’t march the whole damned company after him. It’s got to be quick, violent, and scare the living piss out of him…” Galin turned abruptly to the woman.

“My name is Galin Ochiern, some call me Sir Galin but I think it’s a load of bollocks. This is Owen Cooper, commander of the archers. You just tried to steal from us and we take that a bit seriously, as you may guess. But someone’s already done that, stolen from us, and now you have a chance to keep your hand there. Because if you don’t take the chance, we will take your hand, just sure as you’re breathing. But if you help us get what’s ours, you’ll keep the hand and keep working for us a while until we feel a bit less aggrieved by your attempted theft.

“So, I have two questions. What do we call you, Madame Thief, and will you be taking me up on my offer or losing one of those hands?”

Author: Katja, Posted: Mon Dec 11, 2017 5:48 PM, Post Subject: A New Recruit (P)(R)

Twelve. Twelve silver.

The coins made a sad, empty sound as a raven haired woman plunked them back into a small leather pouch. Twelve silver to last her until she found another mark - make that ten, as she pulled two back out and handed them to the tavern maid who walked back to her with another mug of ale. She sat off to the side, positioned so she could see nearly every patron in the establishment, hoping that there would be one that stood out amongst the crowd, but it was a fruitless effort. She sighed, taking a long drink from her mug, slouching back in her chair slightly.

Times had not exactly been easy for the pale-skinned woman. Though her appearance put her in her early twenties at most, even she could not be sure of her age. In fact - she wasn’t sure of much of her past at all. Not much more than a year ago, she had been found outside the city walls of Adeluna, lost, alone, and confused. The only thing she knew was her name, Katja - no surname, no home land, nothing.

The elderly couple that had found her in such a vulnerable state had taken her in - they were farmers who had been traveling to the city to sell their goods. They clothed her and fed her along with room and board, asking only that she help around the farm in return. It seemed a decent bargain to Katja, and she was grateful that they were so generous.

Unfortunately, a clan of bandits attacked the farm in the middle of the night. Katja had managed to slip out of a window undetected, hiding in the chicken coop until the bandits had taken what they came for, leaving the old couple slaughtered in cold blood. The next morning, Katja had fled to the city, alerting the city guard of the atrocity that had taken place - but they had no time to listen to a poor-looking girl, nor did they care about the murder of an old pair of farmers.

Rather than heading back to the farm, Katja had stayed in the city - and it seemed she had a knack for going unnoticed. She had a pretty face, which helped her blend in, and a slight frame, which helped her to be quick. It was there that she realized those qualities came in handy as a way for her to earn some coin - a least enough to survive. Unfortunately, the methods in which she obtained that silver were less than ethical, and she had to keep a low profile. Taverns were a particularly easy place, as most of the taverns in Adeluna had an inn above them. She would spot a patron until they drank enough to head back to their room, and sneak up in her own time. Picking the lock was easy with the tools she had, and she would relieve them of whatever valuables or coin they had.

Trade had slowed in Adeluna as of late, and that left a sour taste in Katja’s mouth as it left her coin purse empty. Thus, when she heard a drunken group of soldiers bragging about the haul they were about to make, she froze halfway through taking a drink of her ale, her ears focusing in on what was being said.

It was this very act that led her to the predicament she currently found herself in - hands bound, being dragged by a rope. She struggled to stay on her feet. She whipped her head to one side, a braid coming to rest on her shoulder, and made an attempt to fiddle with the braid in an attempt to retrieve a small concealed dagger hidden in the plait. However, that was no longer of concern as a boot connected with her knees, sending her down to the ground. She let out a grunt as she did so, glaring up at the man she had been tossed in front of through narrowed blue eyes.

In response, Katja struggled momentarily against her restraints before she spat on the ground in front of the man addressing her. One of the men that had dragged her in proceeded to tell Galin the event that had unfolded, in which they had caught her in the middle of picking the lock of one of the strong boxes they had liberated during their most recent task. It was followed with a few lewd comments. Rather than crying out in distraught fear, Katja remained silent, holding her head high as she awaited whatever consequences would arise from her actions, a stoic smile spreading across her lips. "Just looked like an awful lot of silver for your men to carry," she said. "Just trying to do my civic duty and lighten the load, so to speak," she added. Her eyes scanned the group surrounding her before they fell back on the newest arrival, her smile faltering as she saw the look in some of their eyes. "Get on with it," she said through a sigh, casting her eyes to the ground.

Author: Galin, Posted: Mon Dec 11, 2017 1:34 PM, Post Subject: A New Recruit (P)(R)

“So you mean to tell me that your… soldiers… will be up for the task?”

The Adelunan count fidgeted with the embroidery at the hem of his velvet coat as he looked at the leader of the company he had hired. He could have been a handsome man, tall and well-built as befitted a seasoned soldier, but his face showed a hardness that men who knew him before the plague struck would not have recognized. A refugee in the south, he had spent the better part of fifteen years selling the services of his company to the petty lords of Adeluna to settle their disputes. Now his face was hard, his cheeks hollow and covered with dark, coarse stubble, and his dark eyes glinted with barely contained distaste. Everything he had loved about the south was gone but he was not welcome home, so he would fight for the pampered lordlings of Adeluna, take their silver, and dream of a day when he could go north.

“Well…?!”

Galin looked at the lord and spat contemptuously at his feet. “If we weren’t, lord,” he said, his tone harsh but controlled, “we would not be here and you would not have paid us so generously. Now kindly stay here so we don’t get that lovely velvet coat stained and let us be about our work.” Without waiting for a reply, he hauled himself heavily into the saddle of his destrier and trotted toward the line or archers he had hidden in the scrub brush along the side of the road. One of them, a man ten years older and at least a head taller, was leaning against an oak, idly whittling a branch down to nothing. He smiled when he saw Galin and nodded in greeting. Owen Cooper had learned, after a few broken ribs and a busted nose, that Galin was no man to be trifled with and, when the Company was leaderless after the plague, accepted Galin’s command happily. “Most men can’t think til their next pot of ale, see,” he would tell the new recruits from the North, “but our Galin, he’s a two pot thinker, he is. Knows where they’ll be before they do, then we do the Maker’s work.” There was a hardness about his friend since the plague a few years past, losing everyone like he had, but sometimes, when he was in his cups, Owen could still see the mischief there in him, buried beneath the grief and anger. “Fine morning for a bit of harvesting, eh? The lads are ready, so they are, and waiting for your word.”

“Remember Owen, don’t kill His Lordship. We can’t ransom a corpse. And the Count, our generous benefactor, has said whatever we can take from the caravan is ours as well, the spoils of war. So aim true, spare the horses, and for the gods’ sake, don’t kill the damned Duke.” Galin leaned from the saddle, still unsteady after learning to ride in his later years, and clasped Owen’s hand. “Happy hunting, my friend. Maybe this time we will finally have enough to…” Galin left the last words unsaid, smiling with a grim determination. “Wait for the convoy to pass the mile marker, Cooper, and then send the bastards straight to hell.”

“Aye sir, it would be good to be home,” Owen replied softly as Galin rode to take his place with the squadron of mounted men at arms waiting in the trees. Maybe, he thought, if they could return to the Highlands and clear Galin’s name, it would wipe away the darkness in his soul. Until then, though, they would wreak bloody hell on the lords of the south until the nobles ran out of coin and grudges. Cooper picked up the long yew stave of his bow and bent it with a grunt until he could hook the hemp rope over the horn nock and grinned. That day, he thought, would never come.

_____________________________________________________________________

Hours later, the Count of Wherever, Galin could not readily remember after a few cups of wine, nor could he actually bring himself to care, still could not understand what happened. The Duke, trussed like a pig, was in the cellar of the company’s small fort and a note demanding his ransom had been sent on ahead with one of his surviving men-at-arms. The Count had received what he had demanded, the personal chest and effects of the Duke and Galin guessed that among the parchment, there was something that could lead the Count to a short drop and a sudden stop at the hands of the Queen but it was all the same to him.

“Alright, your lordship, once more for the punters in the cheap seats,” Galin chuckled and began to arrange the head of the banquet table to resemble the battlefield they had just left. The men gathered around, making small corrections and arguing among themselves as Galin recreated the highway, trees, and the positions of the troops from scraps of meat, rolls, and a goblet of wine to represent the captured Duke. “So, here,” he indicated a few scraps of beef, “are our archers, and here,” he said, pointing to a triangular group of rolls, “are my men at arms. The wine and the chicken bones are the Duke’s column.” The Count nodded, craning his neck to see.

“Well, your lordship, when the column, the chicken bones, that is, made it to here, at the mile marker on the Queen’s Road, they were right abreast of the archers. Now you ask me how twenty-odd men with bows can stop armored men-at-arms, knights even? They do it with this.” Galin put an arrow on the table, its tapering steel head pointed at the count. “Bodkin point, see? Slides through mail like a needle through linen. So even their men at arms, they may as well have been buck arse naked for all the good it did them. And once you’ve got a few men at the head of the column down, men and horses, that is, and the same at the rear, they’ve got nowhere to go.” Galin bunched the bones together around the goblet.

“And now it’s less than a hundred yards and the arrows won’t miss, so they’re getting cut down like summer wheat. Now the Duke, he’s got proper plate armor, the best Egjora can make. These arrows may not kill the bastard, but they will sure ring his bell a bit. So the Duke, he’s getting his men picked off, he decides to make a break for it, see? Owen’s got the good sense to tell the bowmen to slow their shooting, to look like they’ve run short of arrows. So the Duke gets whatever men he can and makes a dash for the head of the column and safety.” Galin pushed the goblet down the table with his left hand and then pushed the trio of rolls into its side with his right. “And that’s when we hit ‘em, when they were panicked and running scared. Cut our way to the Duke, got his surrender, and your chest. Speaking of, my lord, there’s a chest you’re owing to me. It’s in the storehouse like we agreed?”

The Count, still a bit queasy from the sight of the slaughter and hearing it replayed in front of him with such relish, nodded. “All in gold, Adelunan crescents, nothing clipped, nothing light,” he sputtered and Galin gave him a rare smile as he filled the count’s cup.

“Oh I believe you, your lordship, or you’ll be seeing one of these again, very, very soon.” He patted the war arrow lovingly a moment then gave it back to one of Cooper’s men. “Now my lord, men, ladies… Enjoy the feast. We’ve done well today and you deserve it. But if any of you dozy bastards think you won’t be in the saddle tomorrow, nursing your sore head from the warmth of your bed, you’ll learn, from me, that you’re sorely mistaken.” The men laughed as Galin left the hall, not because they did not believe the threat, but because they had learned, some faster than others, that Galin was deadly serious. When he gave them liberty, they could drink like lords, but tomorrow they had to ride out to negotiate with a merchants’ guild and it would not help if half the men were hanging insensate from their saddles. So they drank, not to excess, but just to its boundary, laughing, singing, and brawling until the wine overtook them and they drifted, one by one, to sleep.

Galin, as was his custom, took the first watch at the fort’s small gatehouse, letting the men enjoy their good fortune. The count’s chest of coin was enough to give each man a year’s wages in a single day, though Galin knew that most of it would vanish down ale pots and in dice games. His he saved, as he always did, for his journey north, saving every bent copper he could for that day. The night was cold and he pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders as he leaned against the rampart. These were the moments, he thought, where he could almost feel them, the ones he lost, as though they were just a step away in the darkness, and it ate him alive. He was relieved when he heard a shout from the courtyard and heard Cooper bellowing for him.

Galin followed the men’s firebrands to the storehouse and ducked under the low door frame and into the stone cellar. He could see a struggle but trusted Cooper could handle himself, and besides, there were ten other men there in varying stages of sobriety. After a loud thump and a few choice curses, Cooper dragged a woman at the end of a rope, he hands bound, and kicked out her knees when she was in front of Galin. Men leaned closer, their firebrands illuminating her face, and Galin laughed. She was young, a few years younger than he, and no warrior, from her clothes, so that made her either a whore or a thief, and whores did not usually sneak into locked buildings where iron-bound chests of coin were kept. He stooped down and rocked back on his heels so he could look her in the eye with a cold, humorless smile.

“So, what do we have here, lads?”