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Sati Adaar

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Canon Character
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105
#1
[[Evening: 9:20 Dragon, Bloomingtide, three miles short of Ansburg in the Free Marches]] Shokrakar

Sati hadn’t felt much in the last few weeks. After wallowing in the grief that had consumed her following Ser Lehman’s murder and her abrupt dismissal, she had shut her emotions behind a wall and tried as much as possible to keep them there. She’d wobbled a little when she had returned to her home village and found no trace of her parents. After a little questioning, she’d learned that rumours of a qunari raiding party gradually encroaching on the area had been spreading, and overnight they’d upped sticks and vanished. It was sensible. Her parents were Tal-Vashoth and as far from the brutish image that term inferred as it was possible to be - neither would have stood a chance against trained warriors, and they wouldn’t have been shown any mercy either. They’d left only a couple of months ago, but could have gone anywhere.

Thedas was vast. Sati had no idea where to even start looking. She put her feelings back behind the wall.

She’d visited home rarely since coming under Ser Lehman’s tutelage, and perhaps that had been a mistake. The people she remembered as children were now nearly adults themselves, and while a few had offered sympathy, most were clearly glad to see the back of her. She couldn’t blame them. It was a rare day that a sword-wielding qunari came as a welcome sight. She could have taken ownership of her old dwelling, but it just felt like a shell. All the personal touches that had made it a home were long since gone. The village headsman, Eidread Gelbraint, quietly suggested that she might try her luck with a mercenary company in a big city.

Once upon a time, she’d let herself dream of being a knight. She had the training, and some of the experience. Sati wasn’t naive; she knew that Ser Lehman had taken her on for the glory it gave him to have a qunari at his command, but she’d worked hard every day to prove that she was worthy of the chance. Now like any Tal-Vashosh, she was going to end up a sellsword. There was little else she knew how to do, except perhaps be a scribe, and who was going to hire her for that?

She fought the heavy weight in her chest. She would not shame her mentor’s memory by succumbing to despair, even though as each day went by, each step felt a little harder.

Fortunately, she at least had a few coins to her name. She had decided completely at random to head for Ansbury - there were always a few wealthy merchants there who needed bodyguards - and along the way she’d escorted a lord’s youngest son and his retinue. They’d parted ways at the man’s country estate, and now she might be able to afford a night in a tavern once she reached the city, before starting her search for work.

Unfortunately, it looked as though she would be sodden through by then. The sky had opened a little while ago and Sati was staggering a little in the mud, rain coursing down her face. The pathways leading to the city should be well defined further in but she was just far out enough that it was still mostly mud track, sucking at her boots with each step. She could have pulled off to the side and hidden under a tree, hoping to wait it out, but if she had her distances right Ansburg was only a few miles off. She could survive another couple of hours of this. It wasn’t as though sunshine would have made her feel any better anyway.

However, she wasn’t so numb that she missed a faint flash of light through the trees as she approached a bend in the path. It was definitely armour, and she slowed her pace, stepping carefully up to the trees and peering around the corner. Her breath caught in her throat.

Qunari. Several of them.

Only regiments of the Antaam and Tal-Vashosh travelled in those sorts of numbers. Sati couldn’t see from here which it might be. Neither was likely to treat her well. She’d never met another of her kind, apart from her parents and occasionally seeing lone workers at a distance, but she knew almost all Tal-Vashoth went mad with their freedom and attacked indiscriminately. And if ‘pure’ qunari saw her as Tal-Vashoth, they’d kill her on the spot. Or subject her to the brain-washing that was apparently so popular for easing problems with dissidents.

She could likely sneak around them without being detected. It wasn’t one of her strengths, but between the rain and the failing light, she might be able to pull it off. However, left to their own devices, they might wreck havoc along this road for months, maybe even kill. Ser Lehman, in this situation, would tell her to back away, find some authorities for reinforcement, then come back and deal with the situation sensibly. However, he would also never leave if he thought innocent people might suffer in the meantime.

A thread of pain that wound tight around her heart gave her another reason to stay. Better to die in a fight trying to prevent people being hurt in the future, than perish while protecting some crooked merchant from his competitors.

She rounded the corner in full view, Ruin drawn. The group of qunari were strangely attired, and none wore the red vitaar she knew was the staple of the Antaam. Tal-Vashoth, then. Sati steadied herself, ready to defect anything that came her way. “What is your purpose here?”
 

Shokrakar

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5
#2
“How about this? ‘The summer rains roll down my face/like blood from another time and place’.”

Sweet fuck, not now. Shokrakar gritted her teeth and focused on the tent poles. Living under the Qun fucked you up, and every Tal-Vashoth dealt with the damage in their own way. For Kaariss, it meant indulging in the poetry that had been forbidden to him as a member of the Antaam. That he pretty much sucked at it was beside the point; it helped stave off the madness that had claimed so many others of their kind, and if it sometimes drove her crazy, it was a different kind of crazy: one that she could choose to respond to or not. The choice made all the difference; for the first seventeen years of her life, she’d been given none.

Four years later, she was free and the leader of her own mercenary company, and even if said company only consisted of herself and five other Tal-Vashoth, it was hers, and damned if she would engage in the same bullshit that the Qunari had inflicted on them all. “Sounds good,” she grunted, wedging the pole beneath the oilcloth and pushing it upright. Almost there. “Now get your fucking tent set up.” Tempting as it had been to try to make it to Ansburg, a group of Tal-Vashoth, arriving at night and in the rain, would most likely be refused by all but the seediest inns. Better to sleep a bit damp than share a mildewed straw tick with a legion of biting insects.

They’d found a copse of fir trees that offered some shelter from the driving rain and enough space beneath the spreading branches to set up six tents. She dreamed of the day when such a small space would not contain the Valo Kas company, but it was going to take time. Most Tal Vashoth who hadn’t lost their minds were already members of one mercenary company or another, where they were generally valued for their martial prowess; difficult to convince them to leave that to join a group less than six months old and barely large enough to be considered a company. Thus far, her recruits had been new deserters, like Kaaris and Ashaad, or ones looking to leave shitty companies, like Meraad, Sata-Kas and Sam.

“Yes, Karasten!” She gritted her teeth again. The patterns seared into the brain over a lifetime were not easily redrawn; even she found herself speaking and thinking in Qunlat without meaning to, falling back onto the military terms used in the Antaam. Samuel was the only one who had taken a name for himself with no ties to the Qunari tongue.

A long pause, then a sheepish, “Sorry, Shokrakar.”

She glanced over her shoulder; Kaariss stood looking crestfallen, rain dripping from his curving horns. “It’s all right,” she told him with a smile, and it was. What mattered was that they were free; everything else would come with time. The bleakness left his eyes, and he nodded gratefully before bending to unpack his tent. Satisfied, she turned and set the second pole in place, then moved to tighten the ropes.

“What is your purpose here?”

The voice that rang out in challenge had a definite Marcher accent; given the location, that was hardly surprising. What was surprising was the sight that greeted Shokrakar when she came to her feet and turned, one hand on the hilt of her greatsword.

Horns.

The newcomer was young: several years younger than Shokrakar, from the looks of her, with the gangling look of late adolescence, but she held a well-crafted bastard sword in the manner of one comfortable with its use, her stance ready, her weight balanced nicely on the balls of her feet. She’d had training, Shokrakar noted approvingly.

“Trying to get out of the damned rain,” Shokrakar drawled, jerking her head toward the tents, a gesture from her free hand signaling the others to stay ready but not attack. Training didn’t necessarily preclude crazy. “You?”
 

Sati Adaar

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Canon Character
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Posts
105
#3
Several sets of eyes turned in her direction. The general impression Sati got was one of surprise, not aggression, which slightly put her on the back foot. She’d honestly expected to be rushed the moment she made herself known. Instead, one female qunari straightened up, gesturing to her companions, and the few hands that had reached for hilts or bows as Sati appeared went no further.

The appearance of the group was startling enough, and their apparent leader embodied that. Missing horns were common enough amongst qunari - hence Ser Lehnman’s insistence that Sati have hers tipped in bronze, although Sati had never been sure herself how effective that would be - but the tattoos were not. The woman, like Sati, was almost as tall as the men with her, but she was broad and curvaceous, so she had a presence just as physically intimidating as anybody else in the group. Sati wouldn’t let herself be distracted, though. The qunari obviously had at least a measure of discipline, but that could make them more dangerous than if they were completely wild. Sati kept one ear open for somebody sneaking up on her, and kept her guard up as the leader looked her over.

She didn’t seem put out by Sati’s challenge. “Trying to get out of the damned rain,” she explained, indicating the half-built camp. “You?”

There were six tents, as far as Sati could see. That didn’t exclude the possibility there might be more than six people. She wouldn’t beat those odds. Besides, other than practicing sensible caution, there was no need to be uncivil. While she didn’t lower her sword more than a few inches, she adjusted her posture enough to politely dip her head in response to the leader. “The same. I was going to try to find a room in Ansburg.”

Apart from the sense that the qunari were waiting to see if she’d attack them as much as she was waiting to see if they’d attack her, there’d been no hostility so far. It was a strange counterpoint to everything she’d been taught to expect in the behaviour of any others of her kind. Merciless warriors intending on bending everybody to their will, or straight up butchers, was what she had been told. Of course her parents had been living proof against that, but how common could they really be? It took a lot to break from the Qun without fighting at least a little. They’d planned for a long time, and been very lucky.

Sati cleared her throat. She might as well rip the bandage off now. “Are you Tal-Vashoth? You don’t match the descriptions of the Antaam I've read.”
 

Shokrakar

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#4
The newcomer relaxed marginally without lowering her guard. “The same,” she replied, inclining her head ever so slightly in Shokrakar’s direction, rain dripping from her horns. “I was going to try to find a room in Ansburg.”

That drew chuckles from most of the group and a measuring glance from its leader. “Unless you’ve got the coin and are willing to pay ten times what it’s worth, the best you’ll likely get is an empty stall in a stable.” How was it that she’d been in the Free Marches long enough to pick up the accent and didn’t know that? Ben-Hassrath? She was dismissing that notion almost as soon as it arose … mostly. There remained an off chance that the kid only looked that young. “You have a tent? You’re welcome to set up with us.” Wouldn’t be the first time she’d slept with one eye open, and the potential gains in the situation currently outweighed the risks.

The kid continued to look between them, her expression caught between wariness and wonder. Seeming to realize she’d been staring, she cleared her throat awkwardly. “Are you Tal-Vashoth?” There was curiosity, right enough, but what lay beneath it was harder to define. Something hungry and hopeful and afraid of revealing itself. “You don’t match the descriptions of the Antaam I've read.”

More laughs, and Samuel hawked and spat on the ground. “Fuck the Qun,” he said flatly.

Shokrakar snorted and turned her gaze back to the kid. “Tal-Vashoth and proud of it,” she confirmed with a smirk. “You’re Vashoth, aren’t you?” If she’d only read about the Antaam, it was the only possibility.

Unless she was Ben-Hassrath. But they could always kill her later.
 

Sati Adaar

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Canon Character
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Posts
105
#5
The derisive chuckles that rose up brought a brief flare of discomfort, but Sati grounded herself, determined not to show shame. People who flared up in the face of minor mockery were those most likely to be stabbed in the ribs and left bleeding in the dirt. “Unless you’ve got the coin and are willing to pay ten times what it’s worth, the best you’ll likely get is an empty stall in a stable.”

Of course. Sati was still learning - while she’d been afforded a great deal of leniency as Ser Lehman’s protegee, not many people would extend her the same courtesy now she was on her own. She tried not to let the realisation show on her face. “A stall would suit me fine. I suppose I can’t be picky.” Polite, always polite. She still didn’t know if this group was being particularly cunning. Nonetheless, she couldn’t detect any subterfuge in the leader’s invitation for her to join the cmap.

“You have a tent? You’re welcome to set up with us.”

Not so much. Grief and desperation had driven her from the estate with little time for practical thoughts; her failure to find her parents hadn’t helped. Still, her lessons would come in handy. “I can rig myself a shelter. Your...generosity is appreciated.” Not that she was likely to be asleep most of the night.

Wondering would keep her awake, and rather than being murdered while she was lying down, she decided to address her main concern before they went any further. Were they the wild Tal-Vashosh of the stories she’d heard human men repeating without any experience themselves? Or were they a spy group from the qunari?

The answer was abrupt. One of the men spat on the ground. “Fuck the Qun.”

That was a relief in a way; she wasn’t going to be killed for having the audacity to have parents who had fled the Qun. On the other hand - “Tal-Vashoth and proud of it,” announced the leader. There was no hint of derangement in her eyes, and the fact that they hadn’t attacked her for her few belongings spoke well...so far. “You’re Vashoth, aren’t you?”

Sati nodded, slowly, finally lowering her sword. If they chose this moment to rush her she could probably dispatch one or two of them before she was overwhelmed. “My parents were Tal-Vashoth. I never knew the Qun. From what I’ve been told, I didn’t miss much.” She eyed the leader. Throughout the course of her life, she’d met a few people so comfortable in their own skins that she couldn’t imagine them being any other way. This woman was such a person. For a long time, Sati had been equally assured, and now that the ground had been ripped from beneath her feet, she desperately wanted to regain that sense of assurity. She’d never attack an innocent, but in the meantime...this couldn’t hurt. “My name is Sati Adaar. And I don’t really know where to go from here.”
 

Shokrakar

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#6
A chagrined expression touched the stranger’s face when Shokrakar reminded her what any one of their kind should well know: they weren’t welcome in many places. How in the Fade was that not engraved on the backs of her eyelids?

“A stall would suit me fine,” she mused. “I suppose I can’t be picky.”

“Wrong attitude,” Shokrakar corrected her, shaking her head. “You let them treat you like a beast, and that’s all they’ll ever see. If you don’t know your own worth, no one else will. That’s why we’re out here -” she tipped her head toward the small circle of tents, “instead of sleeping in a stable.” They would enter Ansburg on their own terms, and leave the same way.

More awkwardness ensued at mention of a tent. “I can rig myself a shelter,” the kid conceded. “Your...generosity is appreciated.” No tent, no idea that she wouldn’t be welcome at an inn … Shokrakar’s curiosity - or maybe suspicion - was growing by the moment, but the kid wanted answers too and voiced her question first.

She seemed marginally reassured by the response that she received - enough to lower her weapon, at least. “My parents were Tal-Vashoth,” she told them. ‘Were'. That didn’t sound promising. “I never knew the Qun. From what I’ve been told, I didn’t miss much.”

“That’s putting it mildly, kid,” Shokrakar snorted, feeling a twinge of envy. What must it be like, to not be at war with your own mind? To not have to fight against years of conditioning that told you that everything that you were was wrong?

From the looks of the kid, it wasn’t that great. “My name is Sati Adaar. And I don’t really know where to go from here.” There was a plaintiveness to the admission and a lost look in the violet eyes that Shokrakar had seen before, in the ones that had just broken free of the Qun and had no idea what to do with that freedom. That was when most of the ones that went mad snapped.

“Well, this is Kaaris and Ashaad,” she replied, pointing at each in turn. “Meraad, Sata-Kas and Sam.” They each nodded and offered their own greetings, regarding Sati with no small amount of interest. None of them had ever met a Vashoth before, either.

“And I’m Shokrakar,” she finished with a smirk. If her parents had taught her Qunlat and anything of the Qun, she would know the name as the pejorative it had been intended as when it had first been bestowed upon a defiant adolescent by the Tamassrans. “We’re the Valo-Kas company.” Spoken without a trace of irony and with as much pride as if there had been a hundred tents set up in the rain.

“As for where to go from here -” She jerked her chin toward the edge of the copse. “Those two trees have enough space between them to set up a lean-to.” She had a couple of spare tents stashed if it came to that, but she wanted to see what the kid could cobble together on her own. And she knew from experience that a goal, however small, could help stave off the voice of fear. “What say we get our asses out of the rain and talk over breakfast?”
 

Sati Adaar

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Canon Character
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Posts
105
#7
Sati was confused. She’d thought that the woman was warning her that a stall was all she should expect, and Sati had quickly adapted her expectations accordingly; Ser Lehman had taught her that the best warriors and strategists adapted immediately to whatever new information they were presented with. But apparently this wasn’t the right reaction, as the leader shook her head. “Wrong attitude. You let them treat you like a beast, and that’s all they’ll ever see. If you don’t know your own worth, no one else will.” Sati dropped her gaze. Since the death of her mentor, she had no idea what value she might be to anybody, other than as brute muscle. “That’s why we’re out here, instead of sleeping in a stable.”

That made a certain amount of sense. The group were demanding respect in their way - not with force, but with other forms of action. Sati felt a little of the tension in her chest loosen. So far, these particular Tal-Vashoth didn’t act much differently than her parents had. No anger, no slaughter, just relief at having escaped the oppressive system that had raised them. With that in mind, she finally allowed them to see how uncertain she was. She’d fully expected to get to Ansburg exhausted and have to spend more than a fair sum of the little coin she had left to get some food and shelter. She hadn’t been totally naive - she knew that without humans to vouch for her, her life was likely to get much more difficult.

The leader responded by giving introductions. “This is Kaaris and Ashaad. Meraad, Sata-Kas and Sam.” Sati knew enough to recognise the odd one out in the lineup of qunari names. “And I’m Shokrakar,” the leader finished, smirking for some reason. The sound of the name suited her, like the falling of a great tree or a crack of lightning. “We’re the Valo-Kas company.”

Only six, but they called themselves a company and hadn’t attacked her on sight. Perhaps Sati’s luck was taking a turn for the better. She bowed slightly. “Pleased to meet you all.” She was still going to sleep lightly throughout the evening, in case they thought her easy prey, but there was no sense in abandoning her manners in case this did all turn out to be above board.

“As to where to go from here - those two trees have enough space between them to set up a lean-to. What say we get our asses out of the rain and talk over breakfast?”

Sati nodded, relieved to have something else to focus on than the suspicion she might be killed or the gnawing numbness that had occupied the space beneath her breastbone for the last week. She retrieved the small hatchet at her waist and started slicing some of the thicker boughs in her reach before using those and a blanket to construct a crude shelter. She could sleep beneath her cloak and use the groundsheet to keep herself out of the mud. It would do.

Once it was all set up, she retired almost immediately. There were lumps in the ground and she was hungrier now than she’d been in days, but above all that was the need to get some proper sleep, and with what felt like the largest root in Thedas digging into her ribs, she fell asleep in moments - but not without hiding a dagger beneath the cloak. Just in case.

-

Out of habit she woke quite early in the morning, briefly disoriented by the soreness in her side and the cacophony of the dawn chorus. Apparently birds in this part of Thedas liked to project. When she pushed her head out from beneath the shelter, dew clung to the grass but had not dampened the fire, now being tended to by the one who had been introduced to her as Kaaris. A pot was simmering over the flames; oatmeal with something else mixed in. Sati’s stomach growled. "Um. Good morning."
 

Shokrakar

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#8
Sati Adaar didn’t talk much, which was a point in her favor (that she hadn’t yet shown a propensity for spouting bad poetry was a bigger point, so far as Shokrakar was concerned), but she listened, violet eyes shifting from one to another as they were introduced and dipping a proper bow when the introductions concluded.

“Pleased to meet you all.”

Tal-Vashoth parents hadn’t taught those manners; Shokrakar’s curiosity about the newcomer was growing by the minute, but she contained it for now, pointing out a good spot and watching as the kid quickly and efficiently put together a passable lean-to, remembering to lay a cloth out on the ground, which stole heat from a body faster than the coldest air. She had stubbornly ignored that teaching on her first overnight march and woken up shivering beneath her blankets, colder than she had ever been in her life. It had been a valuable lesson in more than one way; never again had she rebelled simply for the sake of rebellion, biding her time and storing up knowledge for the time when she broke free once and for all.

That question about the newcomer answered, Shokrakar finished setting up her own tent, crawling inside and stretching out without bothering to remove her armor, her sword laying at her side. With an unknown quantity only a few yards away, she wouldn’t be the only one sleeping light, but it wouldn’t be the first time, or the last. Tal-Vashoth were rarely in friendly territory.

She drifted in and out of a dozing state, taking note of when the rain stopped and, a bit later, the sounds of Kaaris coaxing a fire to life and getting breakfast started. She stayed where she was, the knowledge that one of them was up and on guard allowing her to snatch a few minutes of deeper sleep. She roused again at the sound of Sati’s voice and Kaaris’ mumbled reply. The fucking Qunari had tried to beat the poetry out of him so many times that he was timid around strangers, especially anyone who might be a Qunari.

She rolled out of her tent and stood, stretching in the cool morning air, rolling her head on the column of her neck and giving an appreciative groan at the series of loud cracks that resulted.

“Morning,” she grunted, nodding at Sati and peering into the pot without enthusiasm. Oatmeal and dried apples. They’d eaten the last of the ham two days ago. Retrieving her mug from her kit, she crouched by the fire and retrieved the kettle that was steaming beside the pot of oatmeal, pouring herself some hot tea and lacing it with a generous dollop of whiskey from the flask in her hip pouch.

One by one, the others emerged, none of them looking particularly overjoyed at the prospect of oatmeal, but there were no complaints. It was what it was.

“If we don’t get a job soon, we’re going to have to eat Sam,” Shokrakar joked, eliciting laughter from the rest, the loudest coming from Samuel, who patted his slight paunch proudly.

“And poison us all?” Meraad retorted in mock disgust. “Better to try our luck hunting.”

“Some of us need more luck in that than others,” Shokrakar replied. She could use snares and traps, but those weren’t the best choice when you were on the move, and she couldn’t hit shit with a bow. She was teaching herself to use a sling, and could hit a still target maybe three times out of ten; not odds to bet dinner on. Fortunately, Meraad and Ashaad were skilled archers.

She turned her head to peer through the trees, where the walls of Ansburg were just visible in the distance. “If we don’t have any luck getting work today, we’ll set up full camp and hunt for a few days.” Between hunting, trapping, and fishing, they would have enough smoked, dried and salted meat and fish to last them a while, and maybe some skins to sell. Not the mercenary work that they all preferred, but neither was it an unwelcome prospect. They worked together on such occasions as they did in combat, and and while they mainly each gravitated toward their talents, if one of them wanted to try something that they weren’t good at, like Sam and bow hunting (though that was likely an excuse for him to spend time with Meraad), it wasn’t a problem. That choice made all the difference.

“You’re welcome to enter Ansburg with us,” she offered casually to Sati, taking a drink of her tea and relishing the burn of the whiskey as it made its way south. “People will be less likely to mess with you until you get where you’re going.” Not going to ask where; that was up to the kid. “We’ll be checking out the warehouse district for any caravans looking for guards.” Generally dull, but easy money.
 

Sati Adaar

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#9
Kaaris eyed her a little warily, but greeted her civilly enough. Shokrakar appeared shortly after. In the daylight she was even taller than she’d appeared the previous day, and as she rolled her head the tendons in her neck stood out in stark relief. Sati had met human men bulkier than her before, but she’d never been in the presence of somebody quite as physically imposing before. It made a difference not being the tallest one in the group, although she had yet to decide if she enjoyed the change or not.

Nobody seemed particularly enticed by the breakfast on offer. It made a stark difference from wedges of bread still warm from the oven, smeared with preserves, which had been Sati’s standard breakfast while serving under Ser Lehman. She wasn’t going to complain, assuming the food was offered; she was hungry.

So was everybody else; from the sounds of it, their food supplies were low. Shokrakar cracked a joke about eating one of their number, and the laughter that followed put paid to the occasional rumour Sati had heard about qunari occasionally having cannibalistic tendencies. She’d never paid much attention to that, having heard it also being attributed to Fereldans, Rivaini, hedge mages, and Wilder folk. Apparently it was a universal tactic in the book of ‘how to keep my child from running into the woods’.

“And poison us all? Better to try our luck hunting.”

“Some of us need more luck than others.” Shokrakar turned her attention towards the walls of Ansburg. “If we don’t have any luck getting work today, we’ll set up full camp and hunt for a few days.” Kaaris nodded silently towards the pot of tea, which Sati took as an invitation to help herself, as she processed what she was hearing. She wasn’t naive - she didn’t think - but was this how mercenaries lived? Never a set bed to return to, wandering from job to job, unsure where their next meal would come from?

Ser Lehman had worked her hard, and never once let her become complacent. She’d hunted, she’d spent time living outdoors to prove she could. But knowing at the end of it she’d have somewhere to come home to made a difference. She would need to adapt her expectations - and quickly.

Shokrakar was talking to her. “You’re welcome to enter Ansburg with us. People will be less likely to mess with you until you get where you’re going. We’ll be checking out the warehouse district for any caravans looking for guards.”

Sati wasn’t going to look that gift horse in the mouth. “That would be appreciated, thank you. I’m still plotting my course.”

That implied she had any sort of plan at all. Mercenary work was the most obvious, although it rankled slightly. She’d wanted to serve a lord with honour and bravery, not sell her brute strength to the highest bidder, and she knew her morals would get in the way if she was asked to administer a kicking to a tenant who was late with their rent or a merchant who had run afoul of her employer. But apart from maybe offering herself out as a farmhand, she doubted anybody could find much else use for her.

She dug in the bag at her waist, producing a small glass jar of honey, as she turned back to Kaaris. “For the oatmeal, if you want it. It’s not much but it might be welcome. As to hunting - I don’t have one with me, but I’m trained with a longbow. I can help with that, too.”
 
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