(( Hookay, I'll be the first to admit I'm a bit of a sucky writer. But if Karg can do it, so can I. May or may not be more later, depending on how well I manage to motivate.))

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"But Da, they's going on some big 'venture, I heard 'et! They's in the tavern an' they's makin' plans, I jus' know it! Won't do any good if they leave me behind!"

The setting sun cast distorted shadows through the thick glass windows of a small farmhouse on the outskirts of Glastonbury. A young girl, barely ten, wandered about the task of lighting the lamps. Her steps were confined to a slow prowl belying her agitation...after all, the last thing she wanted at the moment was to drop the wick. Her father half turned from his task of building up the fire, a stern expression on his wrinkled face.

"Mildred Marie Stanton. Don't tell me you've been sniffing around the inn again...."

Mildred stiffened, pausing briefly in her circuit. "No, Da, I promise. They was jus' on their way, and I heard 'em talking, honest. But you'll let me go with 'em, right? They's gonna screw somethin' up if I don't go with 'em, always does." Lighting the last lamp, she nodded with all seriousness, eternally convinced that she was not, in fact, only constantly nipping at the heels of the gaggle of boys who fancied themselves Glastonbury's latest crop of heroes.

The older man sighed, long and low, and set the ash-crusted poker in its proper place. "Absolutely not." He stood, turned to face his daughter with a look that brooked no argument. "Even if we didn't need you here, you're far too young to just go gallavanting off through the countryside. Is that understood?"

Knowing far better than to protest, Mildred just stood with her gaze pinned to the wooden floor, mumbling a faint affirmative.

"Mildred, I asked you a question."

The prompt brought the girl's head up and her heels clicked together, almost as a soldier standing at attention. "Yes, Da. I understand."

Her father nodded once, and each went about their evening tasks. A silence stretched for awhile, and finally he sighed again. "Look, in a few years maybe we can get Elias to sponsor you for a bit. You'd like a bit of sailing, wouldn't you? You're always dawdling down by the canals."

He couldn't help but chuckle as Mil's expression brightened like one of the lamps. The exuberance was gone, but that was the way of it, usually...it was the outbursts that were rare, and once one passed it was common to see an eerily agreeable, even serious child for months at a time.

"Yes, Da, I think I'd like that very much." She set a wooden plate down at the small table with a soft 'thunk', and afforded her father a sidelong, almost sly look. "Promise?"

"Hah! Yes, I promise, Millie. Now get the table set...your Ma and sister are due back anytime now, eh?"

((This made me smile YAY 2 u milly ))

((Awwwww, baby Milly! Yay! ^_^))

Tak"

"Tak"

"Tak-takWHUMP"

Mildred met the ground with a heavy grunt, taking care to execute the practiced roll that would prevent her from having an unfriendly conversation with her own quarterstaff as she did so. One more quick somersault and she came to her knees, whipping the weapon around in a low, swift arc that would crush her opponent's ankles.

That was the theory, anyway. In reality, it touched nothing but air. The other had, in fact, sailed clear over the stick as if the move had been anticipated. In the time it took Mildred to shift her grip for a warding gesture, she'd been adled by a measured strike to the forehead, and another to the chest...this one with enough force behind it to pin her to the earth. A booted foot followed, resting on her stomach with just enough force to convince her that eating light this morning had been an excellent idea.

"Not bad, Milly. If I wanted to pat myself on the back, I'd say that some of my lessons are actually working their way through that thick skull of yours." An angular face hung in the air above the prone woman's, sporting a borderline maniacal grin that nearly echoed a young Stash Solstar's. Mildred shot a glare up at the other woman and forced down a shudder, suddenly glad the two had never met.

There were other reasons too, not the least of which involved a guilty desire to avoid being burnt at the stake on account of consorting with unGodly creatures. As if on queue, Aienn's long hair slipped forward over one shoulder, reflecting subtle highlights of dark violet. She gave Mildred a brief, curious look, and finally released her quarry, extending her free hand to help the teen to her feet. It was an offer that was often extended and just as often refused, almost a ritual at this point, four years after their first bout. Mildred levered herself to her feet and glanced around the Tor as she dusted the dirt from her clothes as best she could. "Far be it from me to expect a mite of humility from my 'esteemed' tutor," she quipped, earning her another one of those grins from the elf. "And for the last time, it's MILDRED. For the love of all that's holy, even my folks stopped calling me that years ago. You should, too."

An unspoken cease fire between them, the two women meandered towards the crumbling wall of the abbey, where they'd left a bucket of water with which to refresh themselves after the workout. "What, and miss out on all those great expressions I get in return? I'd sooner snip my ears." She chuckled at the roll of Mildred's eyes before they disappeared behind a damp cloth. A quiet sigh was the only response she got, one that was actually tinged with relief as a layer of dust transferred itself to the rag from Mildred's face. Long moments passed before she let the cloth fall from her face, eyes closed in a brief, simple enjoyment of the sunny day.

As she opened her eyes, finally, her gaze fell on the scarred surface of the mustering stone. The elf was still chattering away aimlessly, but Mildred didn't really hear her. After a lifetime of seeing the stone weekly, it looked different somehow. The change was subtle from this distance, and it took her a full minute to figure out why.

There were new names.

Aienn's voice died down as Mildred took a few long, even steps, quickly closing the distance and leaning forward to read, blinking a couple times as though there were still motes of dust stuck in her eyes. A voice suddenly spoke loud over her shoulder, provoking a startled jump even though she knew full well who it was.

"Oh yeah, heh, I forgot to tell you. That Arringale kid was up here the other day with some of his cronies." She smiled as Mildred turned on her, incredulous. "It was more like a couple of weeks ago now, actually, hum...they had some other guy cornered up here, really wierd fella, strange name, Slash or..."

"Stash." It was a whisper, a growl in the back of her throat.

Aienn pointed at her in assent. "That's the one. And before you ask, no, they didn't see me, even if they hadn't been clomping around to beat all, they seemed pretty intent anyway." Mildred turned back to the stone as her mentor continued, her gaze scanning slowly down the list of names, some predictable in their presence, some not so much. There were a few she didn't even know. Mildred's frown deepened.

There, at the very bottom, was her name, carved boldly into the stone, as good as a challenge. She stared at it for long moments, and turned to stalk down the Tor, addressing her companion in clipped words.

"Let's go."

The elf, while not unused to Mildred's moods, nonetheless hopped up in an instant, a vaguely worried look creasing her brow. "Go? Go where? What's the rush, you've hours yet til you need to be back!"

"I'm going to KILL them!"

Aienn could only grin as she followed her student down to the farmhouse.