Lease this WebApp and get rid of the ads.
Another Place
Wed Jan 10, 2007 21:20
203.28.173.21 (XFF: 192.168.1.3)

After three days, Pigarin was quite ready to toss his body from the battlements. Each day that had followed, he had woken early for morning exercises, and then spent the day either exhausting himself with lessons, or boring himself with ambassadorial duties. Right from the beginning, his hopes had been low, there was to be no new and exciting thrill, nothing to get his heart pumping quickly, nothing that really changed. And, of course, he was forced to put up with Hanle Terillie, an irritably giant Andoran who was far to jolly for his own good. He was seemingly ignorant of Pigarin’s moods, and seemed to take an appropriate pause whenever he could spare to tell his counterpart, or perhaps underling, how wonderful their job was. If Pigarin had been anyone else, he would likely have scoffed to the man’s face. Light burn his cowardice!

Iuri had not made his life much easier either. The middle aged Asha’man could almost have enjoyed piling notes atop Pigarin’s already heavy workload. He was very nonchalant about the entire thing, though he was quick not to pause too long, incase Pigarin finally decided to voice complaint. Not that he had ever tried. And whenever his frustration was on the rise, when he felt like he could speak up, even for just a second, Iuri was nowhere to be found. He, unlike the rest of them, could disappear whenever he pleased.

After all that, he found himself thinking of the most unlikely character, Anin. Now the older Kandori man was by no means friendly, or particularly amicable, or really that great of a person at all, but there was a certain something about him. Perhaps, now that he thought about it, he didn’t really want Anin as the person; he wanted him around as more of the concept. There was an excitement about him, and while Pigarin trembled from even a sideward glance, he could never have said that he was bored. As the day drifted onward, he found that thoughts of Anin, amongst visions of wide open meadows and a desperate rush for freedom, constantly invaded his thoughts.

As midday loomed, Pigarin would have been seen by any other as a daydreamer, as he stared out of the window, observing the light flutter of snow as it marred the glass. Hoping for the millionth time that something would save him, he was quite shocked when his wish was answered in the presence of his elusive mentor. Anin, the very unlikely character himself, had taken Pigarin under his wing, as it were, from almost his first day on the scene. Even now, quite after the fact, he was unsure exactly why Anin had decided to do that. Pigarin was a chore, everyone knew it, and Anin made sure that Pigarin was constantly reminded of it. Only the Creator knew why Anin put up with it, but he always made the effort to take some role in Pigarin’s studies. However, of late, his appearances had been somewhat lacking, and Pigarin had not been able to track him down when he had wished to see him. Usually he would have been glad for the absence, but at that moment Pigarin could have hugged him.

“Soldier Maenred, I thought that maybe it was time I find out how you are coping. I hope that you have managed to find a niche,” he said, actually managing to sound a little sincere. Pigarin was desperate to spout out his real feelings, his loathing of his new position, but knew that such a response was not only inappropriate but also quite stupid. Instead, he put on a small smile, and responded with the usual mumbling.

“Ah…it’s great…sir.”

Anin was silent for many moments, either in his usual huffiness in relation to Pigarin’s wavering tone; or perhaps he was calculating the truth of the words. The experienced Borderlander did not miss a trick, especially when it came to discerning truth from falsehoods.

“Well, I’ve not come here just for idle banter; you have been scheduled to come with me on a recruiting party. They come around now and again, and I am responsible for some small towns across Andor, we will be leaving in around twenty minutes from the Traveling Yards. You had best be prompt,” he commanded, offering his farewells before stepping back out into the cold.

Pigarin was always surprised by the actions of his teacher, for one that Anin always had a great deal more knowledge about his supposed ‘schedule’ than Pigarin himself did, and for another, he always seemed to be working on Pigarin’s side. Whether Pigarin ever fully agreed with Anin’s decisions, or really wanted to do what he was told by the arrogant channeler, he was forced to admit that all the things Anin did were for the best. Even now, while he might not have been strictly aware of it, Anin had managed to salvage the young soldier’s day, and perhaps open some opportunities for excitement that had been so desired. On a lesser note, he would also get a chance to stretch his legs; after all, they had been aching from the constant running, and then having to sit down for hours afterwards.

Finishing up with some final organization, he offered an ecstatic farewell to Hanle, who Pigarin would be glad never to have to see again. Of course, the Light did not answer all prayers, and it was enough to get away for awhile, if only for a short while. Departing the office, he made his way to the Traveling Yards, maintaining a quick pace across the grounds. Upon arrival, he spotted two other Asha’man, one a short, rat faced male, and the other a large shouldered woman, who no doubt was often mistaken as a man. The others, one Dedicated, and another soldier, were both younger, much more feminine looking women. Anin, of course, was standing at the centre, looking very much the leader that he, in fact, was.

“We will be heading to the Four Kings for our first stop, we are not expected there, of course, for you new soldiers, just be prepared for a little rough treatment. They won’t go too far, they never do, but we aren’t all that well liked you’ll find. Anyway, I expect good behavior from all of you, otherwise I assure you punishments will follow,” Anin emphasized that last point, although he seemed mainly to be eyeing the Dedicated.

Yet there was no time for thought, the ratty looking Asha’man had opened up a gateway almost instantaneously, and Pigarin was soon stepping through it. His afternoon was already on the up.

  • Hanle's PlaceSoldier Pigarin, Wed Jan 10 21:17
    Pigarin could find nothing else to describe how he felt in his new training position, he was bored! Iuri, after giving him quite the lecture on the importance of clean hands when working, had left... more
    • Another Place — Soldier Pigarin, Wed Jan 10 21:20
Click here to receive daily updates