Frog Soup part II.

[cbnicholson]

Charlie walks into the arms, he seems less impish and more focused than when Bella last seen him, "Ma? Ya here?"
 Bella pokes her head up from under the back of the bar, looking to be stocking something,"Charlie? What's wrong?"
 Charlie puts his hands on his shortblades, one on each hip then snorts a little in derision,"I got me some new stickers, but.."
 "but what?" His mother asks.
 "I ain't much *cuss* good with em.."he thinks a bit,"I'll tell ya what happened, maybe it'll make more sense to ya then. Me an Kate an Muscles was fightin ogres outside
 Krandor an..well..I was doin what ya told me ta do..use my feet, keep movin that sort of thing..", he frowns slightly as Bella wipes her hand on the bar rag, listening,"I
 kept circling as Muscles kept most of the big dumb brutes occupied but nearly everytime I'd dart in fer a good stick where it hurts I'd miss!" Charlie sighs then continues,"
 Muscles jest kept wailin on them ogres with his big sword and knockin em down..me.."He pulls his twin blades looking at them as if betrayed,"I jest kept missin."
 Charlieholds the iron blades toward her for inspection," It ain't the stickers..Its me..I jest ain't got the knack fer fightin with two yet..Ken ya help?"
 Bella raises an eyebrow," Missin' or not hittin' hard 'nough ta make a diff'rence?"
 "Missin completely," He makes to spit then remembers he's indoors and swallows.
 Bella asks," why ya wanna use two stickers, Charlie? Why's it so important to ya?"
 Charlie seems surprised at the question,"Well..you use two an I never did get the hang of usin a shield like Da does..what's the left hand good fer if not holdin a blade,
 Ma?"
 "Ya din' answer my question, Charlie."
 Charlie mumbles,"I wanna fight like I seen you do, Ma."
 Bella leans over the bar and looks at him for a long while, "Why?"
 Charlie seems to consider the question very seriously,"Cause I ain't good enough to protect Kat an Muscles is. It ain't fair!"
 "I cain' teach ya how ta be a shield, Charlie."
 Charlie shrugs," Shields are too heavy anyways, Ma. I tried ta lift Muscles once..couldn't hardly walk with it, much less run."
 "That ain' what I mean, Charlie. I ain' gonna be able ta teach ya how ta protect somebody. The way I fight, yer gonna take some hits, but you'll hit them harder'n they hit
 you. I cain' teach ya how ta protect. I ken teach ya how ta kill."
 Charlie opens his mouth to say something heartfelt and loudly but then simply nods and whispers, "Well..iffn what's tryin ta hurt me an Kat is dead, that's a sorta
 protection, ain't it?"
 Bella shrugs noncommitedly,"mebbe, but it's up ta Kat ta get outta the way. She's a smart girl, yer aunt."Charlie hears the stress on the word aunt,"I'm sure she knows
 howta take care o' herself."
 Charlie frowns at the hidden message,"We ain't blood, Ma an well,"blushes slightly toeing the ground,"Maybe she ken take care of herself, but that still don't mean we don't
 look out fer each other."
 "I don' wanna know Charlie. Get yer things an' meet me downstairs inna training room"
 Charlie nods and heads for the stairs, making his way into a simple room built for sparring. Bella meets him several minutes later carrying her own blades and stretching
 slightly, "Alright, let's see what you've got then."
 Charlie removes his pack and assumes a basic stance of right blade forward at the waist , left blade higher but off to one side, trailing. His balance with both blades looks
 good, his feet are placed hip width apart. Bella purses her lips slightly, and draws her blades, then closes her eyes a moment and begins to move through some basic
 techniques, and motions (Katas). Charlie watches her quietly then attempts some of the simplier motions, moving gracefully through them. "What's this..I mean why ya doin a
 dance ma?" Bella ignores him. For the next two hours, Bella moves silently and smoothly through motions, gaining speed in many of her motions. She doesn't speak to him
 again for the rest of the time except to occasionally look at him if he stops moving. Charlie sighs but keeps copying her as best as he can, recognizing that there must be
 some reason for her silence. Bella keeps her breathing as steady as she can, but after short while sweat starts beading on her forehead. Finally after the two hours are
 finished, she stops and sheathes her blades again, then moves towards the side of the room and grabs a towel to wipe her face and neck. Charlie looks at her puzzled as they
 finish, its obvious he wasn't putting as much concentration into the excercises as she was, yet his breathing is slightly faster and his face is flushed,"So that's it?" He
 sheathes his blades with a practiced motion," I don't get it, Ma."
 She picks up a canteen and hands it to him, then picks up another and drinks from it, watching him,"Take out yer stickers, Charlie."
 Charlie takes a drink then hands the canteen back to her," A'right." Steps back and reassumes his basic stance looking at her.
 "Yer holdin' blades."
 "Yeah..that's whatcha said ain't it?"
 "Ya wanna fight like I do, yer gonna hafta learn how ta listen ta yer blades. Make 'em an extension of yerself, not jest a tool ya hold sometimes. Listen to em. If it's
 meant ta be, they'll give ya yer purpose."
 Charlie frowns thinking about this for a while,"But they ain't part of me, they're jest sharpened bits of metal..like my picks or arrowheads, Ma. How ken they be a part of
 me?"
 "When ya know the answer ta that question ya ken come back fer more."
 Charlie explodes," *cuss* that! I wanna know how ya make em bite and block, not how ta dance..this is *cuss*..who taught you anyways? Bella looks at him quietly, not
 reacting to his outburst. After a short time, Charlie angrily sheathes his blades and crosses his arms glaring back at her. She picks up her gear and moves towards the
 stairs without a word as he continues to stare at her back as she leaves, after several long moments he mutters something then pulls out his blades again and starts the
 routine as best as he can remember. Moments go by and his motions are angry, unfocused, and lacking any sort of grace he finally gives up and finds a seat on the hard wood
 floor. Sitting there he recalls a squire in field of dirt holding a large shield bearing a compass emblem, he remembers seeing that same boy some hours later still
 standing, still holding that shield. With a quiet curse, Charlie stands and assumes his stance with his blades. Taking a deep breath, he begins again this time not so much
 making the motions but listening to his blades swish through the air.

[cbnicholson]

Sundown and sunup, Charlie makes himself stretch then go through the routine. At first he could feel the pommels of his stickers in the palms of his hands but as one day led to the next and a week had past, he figured out that it was three handspans from the tip of each shortblade to his index finger's grip on the hilt exactly and that crosspieces on each blade were exactly the width of his hand, index finger knuckle to pinky knuckle. With this knowledge he was able with practice to make very precise strikes on the dummy and to prevent accidently cuts to his leathers when he tucked the blades in for a roll, imaginary foe blades slicing above his head. As the days turned into a week then two, he kept at the routine, always remembering the squire with his shield when he felt tired or discouraged. Until finally, he found himself in the routine without grumbling, without a single mental reminder to himself that it was time to get up or to stretch. He marvelled at the lack of concious awareness of his stickers, yet was able to strike the combat dummy anywhere he choose with barely a thought. That day, he left a note for his mother where she was sure to find it, "I'm ready fer ya to take a look, you know where. - Charlie."

[cbnicholson]

A very ragged looking Charlie enters the arms looking around with purpose and notices a woman behind the bar who isn't Bella, "Scuse me, I'm Charl..er I'm lookin fer Bella, she use ta work here, do ya know where she is, um ma'am?" He asks politely, very concious of his lack of a bath in recent weeks along with his habit of living in the sewers hiding from the watch.  
 
 "Sorry nope, Although the boss did say he kicked a Bella out of here many months ago, that who you looking for sweetie?" The woman wrinkles her nose as his overpowering smell slowly meanders across the bar and to her.  "Ya look hungry, I could give ya plate to eat but I'm going to ask you eat behind the kitchen in the street, you smell terrible." The woman offers stepping back slightly.
 
 "No thank ya, I'm fine..Um Yeah, she jest left huh? I don't suppose ya know where I ken find her? No, I guess not..well, iffn ya see her or Mister Steel, let either of em know Charlie is lookin fer her, I ken be found..Hells, I'm around, mostly below..Sorry fer leavin a stink, Ma'am.  I'll be goin now." Charlie makes a hasty exit, first checking the street for a patrol then darting for a back alley.

[cbnicholson]

Outside Haven Mine, Charlie works the nicks out of his stickers with a whetstone.  Only occasionally glancing up from time to time as Kit makes her rounds, his thinking turns to what Bella Ma showed him in the mines the day before.  He remembers the feel of his blades as they struck fur, muscle, and bone and for the briefest of moments he feels some regret, but then remembers the why of it.  "Everythin dies", He mutters with a shrug, turning his attention to a particular large nick on Flame, his favorite shortsword.  "It was jest their time ta do so."

[cbnicholson]

Charlie crept slowly through the underbrush eyes scanning the mercenary encampment in Alindor's Demise for a familiar halfling face. There..among some dwarves she was..Alley Cat she called herself.
 
 Meaner than any of the battle hardened dwarves in a fight, but only a quarter age to most, she and Charlie had a few fights in the past. The first was deadly serious on her part, until Charlie, knowing himself wooped good with two pricks to his bum and a nasty cut on his sword arm ran headlong into a spiders web on a gametrail leading deeper into the adjoining Silkwood. There he hung too, like a skinny fly waiting for the mistress of webs to come suck the juice out of him. With a laugh, Alley Cat cut him down with coarse chuckle, none to gently either, Charlie landing awkwardly on his side. "Alright, I give, I give..you win. Yeesh, yer the meanest little thing I ever fought, meaner than them sewer rats even. Ya gonna kill me now?" Charlie asked not even bothering to reach of his stickers, sticker now, since he dropped the other when she cut his arm. "Ya know I was jest playing some, sides I never did land more than a scratch on ya." He adds hopefully looking for a sign of some compassion in the small intense face.
 
 With an impish grin, Alley Cat let him squirm, circling closer, her stilletto out at guard, long dag trailing, "Naw, yer too funny to chase round, what are you anyway, one of them stupid city boys thinks he's got the gumption to fight the likes of us of the Wood? You're plum crazy boy, coming out here looking for trouble, you know that? Tell you what, you give me your loose coin and by loose - I mean all of it, and I'll even let you walk out of here with your stickers, but maybe not your pants, Urk might like those." She finishes her speech, impish grin widening.
 
 "Umm..Thanks..I think." Charlie slowly stands feeling is side where he's sure he's bruised a rib. "I'm Charlie, Charlie Poetr, iffn yer wonderin. It's um." He chuckles, " I was gonna say its nice ta meet ya, but it really ain't, not like this. Do ya have a name?"
 
 Alley Cat looked him over then gave a small nod, sheathing her blades. "I'm called Alley Cat on account how nasty I fight, Charlie, but you can call me Cat. I think I'm gonna name ya Weasel..you got that look to you - sneaky like. Now that I got yer coin, I think it's best you scoot now but anytime you're wanting to cross blades again, you come back. Next time though, you try that sneak business coming up behind me, me and sharpie." She pats the stilletto's small sheath,"We're gonna get real personal, Charlie Poetr , Savy?"
 
 With a deep gulp, Charlie nods and backs away, "I won't be doin no such thing, Cat, Now that I know yer name an all. Iffn I want ta get yer attention I'll give my blackbird whistle. Rach says it sounds like a sick bullfrog, but its the only birdcall I know. Anyways, um thanks fer not killin me..bye."
 
 Smiling at the memory, Cat did after all, let him keep his pants, Charlie gives his blackbird whistle and Cat's head turns slightly, she looks around briefly before excusing herself and heading off down a trail. They have some business to discuss.
 
 Before business can even begin or a greeting exchanged; however, blades must cross. Assuming a low stance as he enters their clearing, Charlie waits for the inevitable charge as Cat spins almost quicker than the eye can follow and tries her usual trick of disarming him. This time, he is the quicker, angling Flame lower than even her lunge and deflecting the blade high. Back and forth they go, the steel of their blades clanging and glinting in the shadows of the wood until by some unspoken agreement they part, both giving the other mutual looks of respect and sheath blades. "Your getting better, Weasel. Won't be long you'll be better than me then what?" Cat asks managing to look both fierce and curious at the same time.
 
 "I dunno, but I do not I DO NOT watcha calling me Weasel anymore, Cat. Gang in *cuss* Krandor wanted ta call me that an I hated it. Iffn ya gotta call me something, it's Charlie or nothin."
 
 "Fine." Cat crossing her arms the ever present smirk widening, "Nothin then, So Nothin, you still gonna come visit your little Cat after we're done playin at blades or no?" I gotta know. Urk says we got a job coming, I have to decide if I stay here or go with him to Dregar, so which is it, Nothin? I can take your true now for the lesson and we part ways or?"
 
 Charlie tosses her usual fee over in a small bag, it's a pittance, but seems to satisfy Cat, "Yeah, bout that job, yer band got room for another blade? I know ya don't usually get adventurers that's interested, but I am..Ya think Urk would go fer it? I'm wantin ta get to Dregar and it might be being a mercenary is the way to do it..Ya tell him I'll earn my way."
 
 Cat blinks in surprise, "I thought ya liked yer place in Leringard, Nothin? Wantin ta see more action, fine, but I warn you, Urk don't play. You'll more than likely see more fighting than you want to, but I'll ask. Come back in a week, Nothin."
 
 Charlie nods and makes his way to a now familiar game trail leading out of the wood.

[cbnicholson]

Charlie hated being on the ship.  It wasn't the rolling of the waves or the slight queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.  It was the smell of unwashed half orc.  Urk was an effective leader, fairly vocal for one of his kind.  He'd given one look at Charlie and nodded his approval to Cat and that was it.  Now they were about to make landfall in Auderia and Charlie was nervous.  He knew nothing about the bands employer.  It wasn't like him to just jump in.  Okay, he chided himself, it was just like him to jump in without knowing all the details, but this time was different.  The job felt..wrong.
 
 As the ship docked, Charlie got his look at the army that was waiting for them.  Mostly mercenary bands, but an occasional odd robe or two was mixed in.  Studying one particular robed man, the feeling of uneasiness grew, strange tatoos covered what he could see of the man's hands.  Then he saw something that made the blood drain out of his face, A drach.

[cbnicholson]

"Oh *cuss*" Charlie muttered to himself.  "What have I gotten myself into? "  He glanced at Cat to reassure himself and promptly wished he hadn't.  She was regarding him with that same impish grin, but this time there was no friendliness in it.  Cursing his ill luck, he tried to appear confident and moved closer to her. "Did ya know we was fightin fer the Cult, Cat?" He whispered to her.
 
 "Yep, we're mercenaries, nothin, we go where the true is and right now that's here.  Speakin of true." Cat's eyes went briefly over Charlie's shoulder and he turned, but much to slowly.
 
 With a meaty and somewhat hollow thunk, Urk's cudgel caught him right in the temple and he went down in a splay of arms and legs, bleeding above his right ear.  As he lay there, dizzy, confused, and hurting, he heard Cat speaking to Urk, "He's Charlie Poetr, one of them stonebound fools and iffn I heard right there's a reward offered fer them.  Also, I want double, I gots me a hunch he's related to that Knight Captain causing the cult so much trouble here, Urk.  Ya see to it and we'll split it 60/40." Charlie blacked out.

[cbnicholson]

Charlie awoke with pounding headache, but when he tried to rub his sore temple, he found his hands and arms bound tightly and his vision was darkened due to the blindfold.  He could still hear voices and sounds though and from the what he could hear, wherever he was was about to change.  Head throbbing, he tried to rest and heal in his awkward position.

[cbnicholson]

*hours later*
 
 He came to with the feeling he wasn't alone. It was nothing he could see or hear, but there was feel to the air, as if something or someone had displaced some space near him. Charlie groaned quietly, his headache was better, but sheer terror got the better of him before he remembered something in the axioms about not showing fear. He forced himself quiet and strained to hear. There, a shifting in the feel, like someone edging closer. "I'm knowin ya ken hear me Nothin, Cat's voice whispered, alarming close to his ear. I've come ta tell ya goodbye, Cult's falling back and Urk's decided that with our reward, me and him are seeking less dangerous parts. Word I hear is the Cult's keeping ya fer a spell. Far as I know they ain't used ya fer ransom, so I'm thinkin they're gonna feed ya to a dragon, maybe..dunno. In any event, "her voice carried an odd note and Charlie was sure a guard was near, watching," It ain't personal, Charlie Poetr, jest business. I got my true that's what counts, but there's one more thing." Charlie heard the soft sound of a blade sliding loose and felt the prick of something much to close to his personals than he liked. "I meant what I said bout Sharpie, but ya never did try to fight dirty. " Charlie felt the hand holding the blade withdraw and more shifting. "So I'm a halfer of my word. Iffn ya got any sense at all, ye'll go quiet like." Again, more shifting and a sense of her moving away and out. As the guard and Cat both withdrew, Charlie realized three things. First, he was really thirsty, second, he had to pee something fierce, and three. Sharpie was still between his thighs! Gingerly feeling for the blade, Charlie was rewarded with a small wicked cut. Smiling grimly, he began to gently move his bonds over the blade, keeping his thighs tight to hold it in place.

[cbnicholson]

As he felt sharpie bite into the ropes binding his wrists, Charlie thought about what his ma had been trying to teach him. Flashing back to the note she'd tried to give him many weeks ago, he recalled her precious axioms hoping somethere would help him.
 1. Your livelihood rests on two things: Knowledge and reputation
 No help there, the reputation he had at the moment was of an easy going fool and he knew next to nothing about the Cult other than it was best to avoid them.
 2. Know your enemies
 Ruthless and powerful, more reason to slip away and escape as quietly as possible. He had heard they might posses the ability to unbind him from the soulstones, not helping his chances of escape, even by dying, probably why they hadn't killed him outright.
 3. No one is innocent.
 True nuff.
 4. Everything dies.
 Especially when yer hog tied and helpless!
 5. Do not kill unless you are facing your enemies.
 He was in a pickle barrel now, but killin a guard would probably call the dogs to him quicker than he'd like.
 6. Protect those who are not your enemies.
 Like himself!
 7. A child is never your enemy.
 But those that could pass a child could be. The Dragon take that Cat!
 8. Retreat in the face of defeat is wise, if not noble.
 Now here was something, he might not be wise, but this once he'd try ta be.
 9. No job is too small.
 hmm..something to consider for when he got the pits outa here.
 10. Pay comes in many forms, some of which are better than gold.
 Like a bit of revenge, that would be sweeter than da's apple pie.
 11. Mercenaries are killers.
 Charlie's eyes grew cold as the last thread snapped clean on sharpie's edge, he shifted his hands, rotating his wrists to restore circulation and then went to work on the bonds of his feet. Once those were cut, he listened to see if the guard had noticed. From the sounds outside the tent, the camp was packing up so there was plenty of noise to cover his movements. He didn't have much time before they came for him. Looking around, he was surprised to find a small chest among some supplies under a tarp. The lock was simple and gave way easily despite having to abuse sharpie to get it to spring. Slipping his gear back on, he chanced a peek outside. Good, it was getting dark, Now to find a hidey hole until they stopped looking for him. Charlie slipped under the back of the tent and slithered along the ground on his belly toward lower ground.

[cbnicholson]

With the moon still not up and twilight passed Charlie crawled for what he hoped was a dung pile.  At least he was fairly sure it was dung pile by the smell wafting to his nose.  Occasionally he had to lie still in the somewhat trampled grass, but no one seemed to notice him.  Reaching the pile he wormed his way in, ignoring the stench as he'd learned to do while running the sewers of Leringard.  Soon he had a fairly thick covering of loose straw and dung over his entire body leaving a small hole to breath and see through obscured by a few loose strands of hay.  He waited, skin crawling slightly as the maggots moved about at their work.  A fly droned near his ear but he ignored it, thinking of his blade work and dozing to pass the time until dawn came.

[cbnicholson]

Charlie woke to the sound of flies buzzing and a terrible itch around his lower back.  He held his breath and listened closely.  Gone were the sounds of men and carts.  He let his breath out, they'd given up searching for him, he was free.  With a muffled curse, he crawled from the filth and looked around.  Empty scars of campires in the sand and odds bits of canvas and rope were all that was left of the encampment.  Rather anticlimatic.  With a shrug, Charlie dusted himself off and made for Auderia some miles distant.

[cbnicholson]

Charlie was tired, but he figured he'd better either find a room at the Buckle or make for a campsite he knew of not more than a few miles away. The campsite was closer so he made his way cautiously, keeping to the shrubbery and the shade of the trees as he did so. Shadowing a bend in an old trade road, the sun glinted off gold colored armor of a person resting in a sitting position with his head back, face to the sun that managed to shine strongly on him through a gap in the trees. As always, his blade and shield within easy reach in a neat pile near him. "Da! I mean Protector" Charlie cried moving forward breaking his concealment and putting on his easy going smile. "How ya been?"
 
 Daniel opened his eyes and studied the young man a moment. He'd grown up, this troublesome young boy Bella and himself had adopted. Tall and somewhat lanky, Charlie's frame had yet to fill out completely, but the structure was there, like the frame of a building waiting for thatch and stone walls. Daniel smiled, "I am feeling better for my rest, Charlie. Please, have a seat, we have not spoken for a long time." Daniel indicates a spot next to himself. "How do you fare? I spoke with your mother about a week ago, she and I were both concerned about your well being. It seems you have been missing from friends and family for some time, near a month by all accounts. I do not mean to assume, but you have been staying out of trouble, I hope?" Daniel gave the appearance of one of the stern priests from the temple, looking across the bridge of his nose at a recalcitrant student.
 
 "Um, yeah, more or less, Da erm Protector. I was in trouble fer a bit, but I got myself outa of it so there's no need ta worry." Charlie began to feel uncomfortable, if his father found out he'd hired himself out to the cult, he'd be in big trouble. Moreso than any frogs in the house would get him into. Oddly, Daniel simply nodded and let it go.
 
 "How goes your training then? " Daniel points to the two iron shortblades belted to Charlie's waist. "You seem to wear those as comfortably as your mother does. She mentioned you asked about some lessons and for information on being a Dreadblade." He added with a slight frown. "I must say, I do not approve entirely." Charlie started to protest but Daniel put his finger up. "Here me out, son." Daniel admonished and Charlie puts his lips together. Satisfied he wouldn't be interupted, Daniel continued. "What you seek is what your mother is. She is not happy inside, Charlie, nor is she content. You see, she believes that by forsaking all that she holds dear, she makes herself immune to the pain that loss brings. I believe she is in error in this thinking. Instead it eats at her very being causing her great inner pain. This is the folly I want you to think about and consider. I accept hers and your position of bettering your fighting skills, what I do not accept is denying who you are in the process. Do you understand?"
 
 Charlie nodded, "Yes sir, I think I do." He didn't really, but admitting that to Daniel would bring more lofty soul searching gobbly gook that he really didn't want to sit through so he nodded instead.
 
 "Good Lad, now there is something I want you to do before you fully commit to the idea of following your mother." Daniel resumed the instructor/student look again. "Speak in depth with your mother, son. See what she has to say before you commit. Do so and you have my blessing."

[cbnicholson]

*A day or so later*
 
 *Bella is at the Silver Buckle talking with Paddy about something*
 Charlie enters the buckle slowly, his expression thoughtful yet puzzled. When sees his mother, he stands
 quietly at the bar until she finishes speaking to Paddy.
 *she looks over her shoulder as Paddy indicates to her that someone entered the inn, then finishes her conversation with Paddy before turning and walking calmly over to Charlie*
 
 Hiya Ma. Paddy. *Charlie smiles at Paddy and slides a few coins unto the bar* I need a room fer the night,Paddy. *turning back to Bella he says simply* I'm back
 
 *without emotion* So I see.
 
 I been thinkin, bout what ya told me and I asked a friend ta help me train. He's a big lug of muscle, but he's good at swinging his steel, but there's somethin more. *Charlie hesitates a little unerved by Bella's unemotional response so far*
 
 *she simply waits while he speaks*
 
 Da, I mean Protector Dan, he says I gotta ask ya ..*screws up his face unsure* He told me ta ask ya..*frowns* I think he wanted me ta ask ya about this dreadblade busniss..whether I should do it or not. *he adds quickly* He said some stuff bout stayin who I am and um *gulps meeting her gaze* He said it hurt you..on the inside..that true?
 
 *she narrows her gaze at him a bit, then turns to look over at Paddy* Paddy, ya got this place on yer own
 fer a bit. *she looks back at Charlie and heads upstairs into the locked portion of the inn* C'mon.
 
 *Charlie nods and follows quietly, trying to emulate her natural stealth* Comin, Ma.
 
 *she leads Charlie to her room upstairs and shuts the door behind them after he enters. The room is sparse for personal items, but obviously the inn's owner's taste is not entirely in sync with the occupant of the room*
 *as she shuts the door she looks over her son without any visible emotion, but she narrows her eyes a bit.* Yer da sent you ta spy on me now? That's low e'en fer him.
 
 *shakes his head vehemently* No ma'am..We jest talked some, truth is, he didn't seem all that interested in ya, Ma..I mean, he's jest a few miles from here sunnin himself like a lizard.
 
 so, what, I tell ya somethin' an' yer gonna jes' run back an' tell 'im what'ere I tell ya?
 
 He also said..*steps back in the face of her apparent anger* Nope..he jest told me I needed ta talk ta ya and that he'd..he'd give me his blessing to do what I thought right.
 
 *her words are harsh, but her face is stone cold*
 
 Yer scarin me, Ma..stop it.
 
 *she folds her arms and leans up against the wall looking at him*
 
 mabe this was a bad idea. *he mumbles wilting under her stare*
 
 *she quirks a brow slightly* don' take much ta scare ya huh?
 
 *slowly he meets her eyes and straightens his back* I do wanna learn how ta protect my friends better, that's why I'm here, Ma. *he says slowly, setting his jaw*
 
 Ya din' show up fer yer trainin' what you requested. Why should I waste my time iffn you ain' even gonna
 show up?
 
 Now jest a dang minute..I came lookin fer ya at the Arms, you left without tellin anyone who'd tell me where ya went..so I um..I went lookin fer a new teacher.
 
 and?
 
 I found one..but she didn't teach me what I was hopin fer. *small voice* In fact, I learned I can't trust most folks. But they ain't all bad neither. *He fingers a stilletto that sits next to his shortblade flame, thoughtfully* None of that matters none, I got myself inta trouble and I got myself out..now I'm here and I'm wantin ta know..is any of what Da said true? I won't pretend I understood all of what he said, but there was somethin in the way he said it..like it was very important, ya know?
 
 Dan doesn' know what he's talkin' bout Charlie.
 
 So ya say, Ma. That's why I'm askin..Ya know I did them blade excercises ya taught me fer weeks, I still do em when I feel the need ta calm myself. Is that all there is?
 
 what do you think?
 
 *cuss* No, but yer all tight lipped, so what's a fella ta think?
 
 think fer yerself Charlie.
 
 I do..an I think. *screws up his face* I think there's more goin on than yer willin ta say.
 
 I think yer a man what's actin' like a child.
 
 *touches his blades with the tips of his fingers the continues in calmer tones* Mabe a little, but I've learned that there's no call ta be cold when yer afire inside, Ma
 
 And yer young an' you don' know what yer talkin' bout
 
 *his eyes assume a colder look* I do too. Ya know what I really think, Ma. I think yer too afraid Dan's right but yer stubborn as a goat bout admittin it.
 
 *her expression relaxes slightly* He isn't right about a great many things, Charlie, and yer wastin yer time tryin' ta figger me out when you ain' even got yerself figgered out.
 
 Mabe *he concedes with nod of his head* But I am gonna learn ta fight better, with or without yer help, Ma. I'd rather have it, but I'll make do without I will.
 
 You don' got what it takes, Charlie. Maybe you ken fight with em, but you ain' *she frowns a bit* You ain't got it.
 
 *Charlie looks hurt at her flat appraisal but stands his ground* Mabe so, but me and Kate, and Robb..we make a fair team, Ma an they look ta me ta lead em so that's what I'll do. An iffn it comes to it, Robb ken teach me ta fight..might be I won't be like you, but I'll be fightin fer what I think is right and that's somethin.
 
 then go play with your friends, Charlie. But you ain' gonna be leadin' em anywhere iffn you don' grow up 'cept ta their graves.
 An' iffn you think I don' fight fer what's right, then that's yer own issue, not mine. Go play, Charlie. Yer swords'll ne'er be nothin' but toys ta you. Iffn that makes ya happy, ya have my blessin'. *her tone
 and expression are cold and dark again*
 
 *he frowns and takes a step toward the door then turns* I dun know why you are tryin ta scare me off, Ma, but I'm sure ya have yer reasons even if ya won't tell me. Thanks fer talking in any event. *he finishes
 and slips out the door*
 
 *she doesn't move to stop him*

[cbnicholson]

After much cajoling, Robb finally agrees to spar with him and teach him some of the basics.  Problem is, the big fighter talks little and explains even less so Charlie is forced to watch carefully and puzzle out the finer points of heavy armor, shield use, and the peculiar blade style that Robb employs himself.  The first few bouts they have, Robb beats him soundly, leaving a multiple of bruises and more than few contusions, particularily on his backside.  One of Robb's tricks is to wait for Charlie to overextend himself then lunge in, using his bigger size and strength to knock him flat on his arse.  It's humilating, but he doggedly keeps at it.   Katelyn is always near with a healing prayer, so none are life threatening even if his pride is mortally wounded.  In return, Charlie teaches Robb what he knows about stealth, picking locks, and a few odds and ends regarding various magic items the group has collected in thier travels.

[cbnicholson]

*Charlie enters the Arms with a friendly nod to the bartendar and finds a chair in the corner after buying an ale, he seems to be looking for someone*
 
 **the Arms bustles with various patrons, drinkers and loiterers, talkers and brawlers**
 
 **The bartender hands the drink over, reminding Charlie that the drinks are free, but there is a three drink
 limit.**
 
 Oh..sure, thanks *he makes his way to the chair in the corner and resumes his watching, as one largish fighter enters he looks excited for a moment then sighs and sits back down*
 
 **A server comes by and asks if he'd like to order something to eat, and starts spouting out prices and menu items, then asks if Charlie is here alone or if he's meeting with someone**
 
 *Charlie fingers a rather thin coin purse* Jest a bit of bread iffn ya would..As fer meetin someone. Is Mister Steel 'round? I need ta talk ta him.
 
 **the server tells him that last she knew Steel was in the library upstairs, and takes his coin for the bread**
 
 **motions the server to move closer* Could ya tell him Charlie Poetr wants ta talk ta him. *Charlie looks fairly apprehensive as he says this* Private like?
 
 **the server shrugs and nods, then heads over to Lily for a moment, who does some nodding herself, after which Lily heads up stairs and comes back within a few moments**
 
 **As he waits Charlie eats his bread and downs his second ale, declining a third*
 
 **presently, the blue mercenary arrives in the main hall, dressed in casual clothes. He approaches Charlie, seeming to recognize him. Steel wears no mask, and his long red hair is pulled back and tied off with a
 leather cord**
 
 *Charlie greets Steel with a nod and tentative smile* Thank ya fer seein me Mister Steel, is there somewhere private we could talk?
 
 My office works well. It's back upstairs.**Steel turns as if expecting Charlie to follow**
 
 *Charlie leaves a coin on the table as a tip and thanks to the server and follows at what he thinks is a safe distance from Steel, as they walk to the office, his manipulates his hood in his hands out of nervous habit*
 
 **The office is across from the open library, and is large, complete with an over-sized desk and chair, as well as a few seats for guests, tapestries adorning the walls.**
 
 *Charlie pauses to admire the office briefly , but remains standing until Steel takes his chair, nervously bunching and unbunching his hood*
 
 **the door closed behind them, Steel looks to Charlie** Go on, then. Something you need "fixed"?
 
 *Charlie gulps quietly* Not exact like, Mister Steel. *he seems to screw up his courage* Ya think I got what it takes ta be a dreadblade? *he more or less blurts out* Ma said I didn't.
 
 **Steel sniffs, leans back in his seat, studies Charlie, letting moments pass** Tell me about the "Dread Blades," Charlie.
 
 Well um..yer all kinda mysterious and um..ya kill things that need killin...Like Drachs! *he grins*
 
 Dread Blades kill things that need killing. I suppose, in a manner of speaking. Killing is a large part of the game, as it were. I am going to assume you've read the Axioms. I am also going to assume that you want to be a Dread Blade. So, then, do you follow the Axioms? Killing only your enemies, not harming children, etc, etc.
 
 *Charlie's grin fades a little and he adopts a more serious look and nods* Yep, Ma gave em to me once, but I tossed em. Weeell..I wanna learn ta fight better, but I ain't knowin nuff bout ~being~ a dreadblade ta know fer sure.
 
 Since you tossed them, I suspect then you don't adhere to the Axioms. Truly, if you wish to be a Dread Blade, the task is simple. Follow the Axioms and you can call yourself a Dread Blade.... there are those that know nothing of the Dread Blade theories, and yet are Dread Blades. It's a way of thinking, a philosophy for those who live by the sword.
 
 *Charlie screws up his face* I try to, what I ken remember of em, Mister Steel. They ain't the real problem ya see. It's me Ma..she's..*sighs* She don't seem the same since Rach died. But what about what me ma said, bout me not havin what it takes? Can't be that simple, Mister Steel, ken it?
 
 Of course it's not that simple. But the answers you seek cannot be given in a day, or even a year. The answers are only partly found in words. Much of what you seek will be found through movement, through action, trial and error.**Steel blinks, sniffs again** Are you here to determine if you have what it takes to be a Dread Blade, or to ask what's wrong with your mother, or something else?
 
 Sorry. *small voice* I didn't mean ta confuse ya none. It's jest. *he grips his hood tighter in frustration*An well..Ma did teach me a sort of blade dance an that seems ta have some meanin to it. *his hands stop worrying his hood to wrinkles and he tucks it into his belt* She told me ta grow up an acted like she dun want to teach me no more..that's why I'm here.
 
 So you're here to find out why she won't teach you anymore?
 
 Mabe..I dunno. I dun want her ta be mad at me fer tryin, but *his eyes are wet and wipes them on his sleeve* I dun know the why of how she's actin, I jest wanna learn some more.
 
 Learn more what?
 
 How ta fight, how ta be like me ma.
 
 Ah, well, see, those are two very different things.
 
 They are? *he seems surprised*
 
 Learning to fight, and learning to be like your mother. Hardly even related.
 
 **Charlie blinks*
 
 Clearly you associate the ability to fight with your mother... but let me explain it this way....
 
 *Charlie settles into a chair listening intently, but the look of a person who isn't quite believing what
 he's hearing*
 
 .... Queen Mouring's General learned how to fight, and he fights very well. Does that mean he in the process learned to be like your mother? I think you can see the the answer is "not at all." But why? Why not at all? The answer is found in motivation. Learning to fight is learning a skill- unlike a person, the basic maneuvers and movements of fighting has no motivation. they are just actions, that in some situations produce certain results, but those actions do not care one way or the other that those results are produced.
 To learn to be like a person, you must seek to understand that person's motivations. The General does not know why your mother does what she does, and therefore cannot be like her, even though they are both excellent fighters.
 
 *Charlie gives a little nod* I reckon that's true nuff. *He leans forward* Do you know why Ma is like she is, Mister Steel?
 
 I have some idea, yes. And no, I will not discuss it with you. That said, I can point you in a direction for you to learn of them.
 
 Rats..*Charlie mutters and settles back, looking at Steel with a touch of disgust mixed with hope* How so?
 
 A long time ago your mother came to me, and like others before her, asked how to be fearless. The answer to that question always revolves around the person who asks it, meaning that in part, the answered is unique for each person. But I can tell you where it starts.
 
 *Charlie frowns* Folks is always afraid or so my Da says..whatcha tell her, Mister Steel?
 
 It starts with the question, "What do you want?" So, Charlie Poetr.... what is it that you want... truly desire, more than anything else... an overarching desire that underlies all your decisions, gives perspective to every choice, every action
 
 *Charlie seems confused by the question, but appears to give it some thought, moments pass by* I want to be a better fighter, ta be able to protect those that I care bout, Mister Steel. *his expression earnest*
 
 So, you want to protect?
 
 *nods* Iffn that means I hafta kill em ta do so, I'll do so. *flatly*
 
 **Steel nods** The Norseman once told me about the sword and the shield.
 You see, a Dread Blade, as the name suggests, is a sword.
 
 He the fella ya got in stone downstairs? This norseman?
 
 Yes... yes he is. The creator of the Axioms. A well known mercenary during the war against Bloodstone.
 
 *small smirk* Thought so, jest how old are you, Mister Steel?
 
 I am not young, if that's what you mean. I knew your father's father. And his father before him.
 
 *charlie whistles* So what bout this sword an shield business?
 
 Tell me, Charlie, for what good is a sword? What is its purpose?
 
 It's ta put holes inta folks and monsters, a tool. *He shrugs*
 
 Indeed. It is designed to kill. In fact, it's not much good for anything else. Now, what about a shield? What is its purpose?
 
 *Charlie's face screws up for a moment then clears* Oh! I heard Da and Ma once talkin bout this..A shield stops a blade.
 
 A shield is designed to protect, charlie.
 
 Right! That's what they was talkin bout..Da's a shield, Ma's a blade. *he slowly frowns again considering the implications* Mister Steel..do ya know why Ma married mister Dan?
 
 Yes and no. Some of it remains a mystery to me, but I have theories. Again, I'll let you formulate your own theories as you learn more through observation and seeking rather than share my own.
 
 oh..okay.
 
 Shields are designed to protect. If you want to be a shield, then you will find the path of the Dread Blade impossible. Consider the path of the Toranite, or the Great Dragon, as your father chose... or just take up your own way of being a protector.
 
 *looks very disapointed at that* But I can't even use a shield..*cuss* things too heavy! Ma told me that iffn I was ta live with her I'd hafta accept Mister Dan as me da. It was a hard thing ta do, but ya know what..in some ways, he's a lot easier to understand than Bella Ma. *sighs*
 
 
 **he shakes his head** Being a protector, a shield, is a mindset, not a hunk of metal you carry around.
 
 Yeah but..*bites his lip* Ma's already got a protector, Mister Steel.
 
 It means you use what skills you do have to protect and shield others from harm, sometimes accepting damage that would normally be placed on another.
 
 *nods* I get that..
 
 The sword, on the other hand... **at this there is a hint of that wicked grin** .... well, some are meant to kill.
 
 *Charlie's eyes widen and he edges back*
 
 A Dread Blade is one who understands instinctively that someone must do the dirty work.
 
 *Charlie snorts* I do plenty of dirty work, Mister Steel..all kinds..no jobs too small neither.
 
 The killing does not need to be liked, but it has to be done, and it has to be done so that others do not have to do it. A Dread Blade knows that what he or she must do is ... **he slows and emphasizes the word** ... evil. To destroy, to take a life, is never good. But it is the burden of the Blade to carry this evil upon themselves so that others may keep their innocence.
 
 *Charlie starts to shrug then stops* Even iffn that someone really needs killin?
 
 Idealized somewhat, yes, but that is the gist of it. **then answering Charlie's question** That is the crux of it, Charlie... your Dad is one of those that claim to be judges.... and yet, to take a life is the ultimate judgement, for who has the authority to decide...who lives and dies, and those that take it upon themselves to make that decision....commit the most mortal of sins...
 for how can you take from someone that which you can not rightly take from yourself?
 
 *Charlie furrows his brow* Da would say the Dragon does fer sure an that the law is what the Dragon wants, but sometimes I know that ain't always true. *looks a bit guilty* But dreadblades don't violate the axioms..*thinks a bit* Like children..ya'd don't eat children, jest other monsters..ya told me that long ago.
 
 But even a monster has life, and what are we if not monsters to the monsters?
 
 but..but..that's nonsense..yer pullin my leg again, ain't ya? Like my soul fer a sammich? maybe? *Charlie ponders what Steel has said, knowing he may not get confirmation* Mister Steel, I ain't much of a thinker, but I think I got this much figured out, iffn there's somethin or someone that needs killin ta save a lot of folks, arguin the whys and whats of it, won't protect those folks..Killin the bugger will. I ken do that.
 
 **Steel squints one eye at the young Charlie** And what if that someone isn't a monster? What if that someone that needs to be killed to save a "whole lot of folks" is as innocent as a newborn, and just as helpless?
 
 *Charlie seems taken aback* But that's not allowed by yer axioms, Mister Steel, ain't that so?
 
 It's not? If the creature needed to be killed was actually a child, then you could make that argument... but if not... what is left to save them? Even then... the Axioms are guidelines... they cannot predict and account for every possible situation... there is one key, though, within the Axioms that would help you in such situations.
 
 I reckon, *puzzled* What's this key then?
 
 Choosing your enemies. How you decide who is and who is not your enemy decides who you kill and who you do not. The choice is daily, and you are faced with it at every meeting, every hello. Still, killing the "buggers" does not a blade make you... Toranites kill "monsters," but they are not swords; Toranites are shields. To be a sword, to be a Dread Blade, there can be no assumption that you have any chance to protect another. The sword is not designed to protect life. It is designed to destroy life.
 
 *Charlie gulps* So iffn say Kate was dyin an I had a chance of takin out our enemy..I should let her die?
 
 It is less a matter of "should," and more a matter of which path you choose to walk: healer... protector... Dread Blade... The one secret that all swords, all killers know deep inside... is that all is already lost.
 
 huh..then what are ya killin for if all is lost, Mister Steel?
 
 What is the purpose of a sword, Charlie? You know the answer. But it is deeper... there is more to it....to kill is to commit evil, to join the likes of the monsters that are so abhorred.... so then, do you want your friends, your loved ones, your children to be required to take the life of another sentient creature? Do you want to condemn them spilling blood, to snuffing out hopes and dreams and all that goes with a thinking life form? No... Blades exist to kill so that others do not have to bear that burden.
 
 *Charlie frowns deeply taking all this in* I dun know if..If I'm strong nuff fer all that, Mister Steel. *subdued voice* I'll hafta think bout it some more I guess.
 
 If a protector kills while defending another, because he has been attacked, he is not at fault.... but a Blade.. a Blade does not wait to be attacked... A Blade seeks out the kill... destroys the enemy before it reaches the protector.
 
 But that's murder!. *Charlie blurts out looking more and more troubled* Da would be after me iffn I did that..he'd..why he'd hafta execute me even.
 
 Dread Blades are assassins, marauders, bounty hunters, pirates, and all who deal in death.... **Steel nods** And so it is. That is why the 11th Axiom warns you of the consequences of this Path.
 
 *Charlie looks surprised* Eleventh?
 
 But do not mistake a Dread Blade for the likes of the Corathites or the Pyrtechonites... a Dread Blade serves no god.... for even the gods can die... ~everything dies~ .... and when the gods go to war, the Dread Blades will be there as well, doing what we are called to do. Aye.. the 11th Axiom - "Mercenaries are killers."
 
 Mercenaries are killers, right. *Charlie sighs* I got it. *he fidgetsuncomfortably* Ya've given me a lot ta think on, Mister Steel. Ken I go now or..do ya need my oath in blood or somethin first? *he gulps*
 
 **Steel laughs, a casual, non-threatening rumble** No need for your blood. You are not my enemy.
 
 *Charlie lets out a small sigh of relief and eases toward the door to the office* I dun plan ta be either, Mister Steel. *he waits a few moments before opening the door* Ya know..Ma was right, talkin to ya did help.
 
 **Steel nods a bit** Excellent. If you choose the path of the Dread Blade, come see me again. There is much, much more yet to be learned. Yet there are so many paths to choose... look inside yourself and see to which one you are called by your own soul. That want, that desire... you said your desire is to protect... if so... perhaps your soul is calling you to the life of a knight or similar. Or perhaps a blade does exist in you, but you have not yet found it. **Steel shrugs** We'll see, yes? Feel free to enjoy a meal on me. Simply tell the server you spoke with earlier I said for it to be so.
 
 *Charlie tentatively smiles at the offer then nods* Sure thing, I could eat *mumbles* maybe..I..ken make no promises regardin talkin, Mister Steel. Seeya. *Charlie slips out the door and down the stairs*

[cbnicholson]

Charlie was back at the Buckle, his last gathering trip done for a while.  Fresh apples, a few hops, salt, and sage left in the kitchen per Elohanna's request.  Hopefully she'd leave him alone for a bit.  He needed to practice a new technique taught to him by a Toranite, Aarcus.  Shirtless, his lean muscles rippled as he eyed the practice dummy, his short blade, flame, held out before him, like a an arrow poised to be loose.  He felt the energy building in his legs first, rising to his middle into his chest, then out to his arms until finally with a soft outlay of breath, his body sprung foward as if shot from a catapult. Not being made for slashing, his shortblade bounced off the dummy's side, but he'd felt the flow distantly, his mind afloat in a personal void of concentration as it hit.  He backed off ten paces and reset his stance, eyes predatory and flat, ready to strike again.

[cbnicholson]

What did he want? The question nagged at Charlie as never before. Ever since he'd been nosing around behind the bar at the Buckle that night and Rose walked in. She offered to share a bottle of wine with him and he'd tried to convince her it was a bad idea with the thought of a little backwash. Instead, she'd called his bluff and offered to show him how to drink right from the bottle and not have that problem. Rose was many things, but apparently not squeamish or afraid of a challenge. She promised him to show him things about ..well he wasn't entirely sure, but he knew enough to guess and those guesses excited him in ways he'd rather not think about. It disrupted his concentration when he was training for one and Kat, well, Kat wouldn't like it one bit, regardless if Rose promised him it would help him please Kat. Also, it weren't right, Da would never approve, but then Da rarely did about the things Rose whispered to him.
 
 There was something else that troubled him. Rose was a witch, a beauty of witch, but she'd gotten the better of him when he tried to trick her with his three cups and pebble trick. She knew right off he'd slipped the stone in his sleeve. She'd hardly even watched the cups, just sat there with a dreamy expression. Nobody at the Rofie Temple had ever caught on, but she did without batting an eye. It wasn't natural and neither was she. It had to be witchcraft, sorcery, magic. So why then was he still thinking about her whispered promises? Maybe she'd bewitched him, but to get help with that he'd have to go to Kat..and that just wasn't happening. He needed more information so he took to shadowing her.

[cbnicholson]

*A few days later*
 
 Charlie enjoyed the drink at the Arms, cherry cordial was a favorite of his ever since he'd introduced Lana and Mister Andrew those few years ago in his Da's suit. Think about the last few days, he set his drink down pondering.
 
 He'd trailed Rose to the market and back and was surprised at just how much most people seemed to ignore her. Sure, there were a few smiles and looks for the pretty lady, but nobody seemed that familiar to her or her to them. He'd almost drew his blades when one fat grocer had pinched her bottom as she examined the loaves of bread that were the man's trade, but she'd barely made a fuss and the man had apologized saying he simply couldn't resist. Charlie couldn't find it himself to blame the pudgy man either. The explanation drew a cute laugh from Rose as well and she paid the fat baker and left his stall. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing strange at all. It made him uneasy. He stilled remembered the look of horror on the kobold's face and Rose's glib explanation of "I made him see his own death". Shuddering, Charlie didn't feel like finishing his drink after all.
 
 He slinked out to the street and took up his usual post, a shadowed corner on a house down from the Twin Dragon where he could see her front door. As he crouched musing in the cold, he decided - another day and he was going back to Mariner's. This was getting boring and there was a warm couch waiting for him there. If Rose was really a witch, he'd eat his boots. She seemed more like a lonely young lady in a strange town to him despite what he'd seen in silkwood. The only thing that still bothered him was the strange lost look on her face from time to time. Like she was daydreaming. Maybe she had secrets, but then so did he.

[cbnicholson]

Charlie made his way through the front door of the Buckle, tired but elated. He'd finally mastered his blades. It had come to him when he was fighting with a group of elves in Silkwood against spiders. He pondered how every elf on Mistone seemed to know his father for a few moments then shrugged. Restless, he paced his 'office' then removed his jerkin. Snatching up his two blades, he made his way to the practice room.
 
 Once there, he sheathed the blades and stretched, restoring some vitality to his already tired limbs. Taking Bone and Flame in hand, Charlie began his dance once more, eyes flat and predatory, his mind in the void as he thrusted and parried, perfecting his new mastery.
 
 Hours later, as he sipped some ale and relaxed, he let his mind slip to a kiss in Center, weeks before. Maybe a kiss from a Rose was lucky too. Charlie set the mug of ale aside and leaned back, falling asleep with a crooked grin.