Iskra lowered her weary bones into a comfortable chair set in a suitably dark and uncrowded corner of the otherwise lively common room of the Dancing Dove. She stretched out her aching legs under her table and leaned back in the chair, sighing gratefully.

She had arrived in Corus that very day and was glad to finally be off the back of of her horse and on to solid ground. As with most things, thus far, the city had failed to impress Iskra, but now that she was amongst her own kind in the infamous "Dove" she allowed herself to relax and appreciate her surroundings.

She waved over a young serving girl.

"What'll it be my lovely?" the girl enquired.

Iskra raised an eyebrow, "hmph" she muttered at the girls familiar tone. "Ale." She barked in Common marked by her rough Scanran accent. "...please." she added, quietly.

Scanrans were still not exactly welcomed with open arms in Tortall, Iskra had registered this all to clearly in the barmaid's expression. She would have to mask her accent more carefully from now on.

Scanning the room she took in the variety of faces. Students, Squires, young nobles, all clearly here to "slum it" with the likes of us, she thought. She could also easily pick out those who were Rogue too. In the next day or two she would have to seek outthe so called King of Thieves, no point operating without his approval here, but for now she would relax, enjoy a pint of the Dove's finest and see if anyone interesting turned up tonight. Business could wait.

Livia Heart opened the door of the Dancing Dove and scanned the room. There were just the usual guests, some of her friends that were in the Rogue, and a new woman with a wiry build and hazel eyes. Livia put a mental note in her head about the newest guest in the "Dove". She looked at the clock on the wall. Just enough time for a drink before she had to return to the palace.

"Oi! Livy! Care for a drink?" the voice came from Livia's best friend, known to most as More. "Just one, all right? I have to go back soon, and I want to have a clear head," Livia replied firmly. More conceded, and a serving girl brought out a small glass.

Livia scanned the room again, this time for a chair. She found one, just a few paces away from the new guest. I must tread carefully. I'd like to get to know her, but it's dangerous to judge by appearance, thought Livia. She sat, and said politely, "Hello, madam."

Just as Iskra had given up scanning the faces in the room and turned her attention to the tankard of ale that had just been unceremoniously dumped down in front of her by the edgy serving girl, she saw someone enter the room in the periphery of her vision.

She kept her focus on her drink, gazing into it as if it held the most magical wonders of the world until the girl who had just walked in replied to a shouted greeting from a friend. The name that had been called, Livy, rang bells in her head although she couldn't place it. Iskra chanced a look up. The girls too thin face and slightly bedraggled appearence was unremarkable, but there was something in that face that seemed familiar. Iskra shook off the feeling, the girl looked far to young to be anyone she'd know, and she was far far too tanned to be a Scanran from the boarder camps.

Iskra frowned and returned to contemplating her drink.

Suddenly the girl made her way over to the empty table next to Iskra and lowered herself into a chair a few paces away from Iskra, she turned and politely said "hello, Madam."

Iskra swore in Scanran under her breath then replied gruffly, "I'm called many things in my life, madam is rarely one of them." Secretly she admired the girls boldness, few people would approach her so easily ordinarily, in fact she'd perfected a withering stare intended to avoid just such occasions. Small-talk made her uncomfortable.

Livia bowed her head. "I'm sorry, it's just that I'm used to calling my superiors madam. At least, when they're women. Men, they're 'sir'." She paused. "What may I call you, if not madam?" The other woman muttered, "Iskra." The words came pouring out of Livia's mouth. "Are you here for the Rogue? If you are, don't worry about me telling anyone. I'm here for the Rogue too, in my own way." She sat back and took a sip out of her drink. "If you don't want to tell me anything, you don't need to. Even if you want to lie, it doesn't matter to me." Then she hit her head with the heel of her hand. "Ugh, I'm going on again. So sorry. So, you can answer or not answer." Livia picked up her tankard and took another sip.

Iskra sat back and looked bemused as the words tumbled out of the young girl sat next to her. Who'd have known that giving ones name to someone could have such an effect. Iskra was more used to plying people for information rather than having it dumped in her lap.

She bit down the urge to laugh, although a smile touched the corner of her lips. Now was no time to break her usual rule of resolute surliness, although clearly this wasn't going to be enough to shake off this young lady.

"Listen...er...Livy is it? Rogue or not, I'm probably not the kind of person you want to be associating with, I'm quite sure your ma and pa wouldn't approve."

Iskra took a bit of a gamble with the last statement. She was quite sure, from the people this girl clearly knew in here, that Ma and Pa were nowhere to be seen. None the less she had to grudgingly admit that the girl's forwardness has piqued her interest.

"So where is it you work child, that they have you bowing and scraping and calling people Sir and Madam?"

Livia cocked her head. "Well, I don't have a ma and pa." Her heart felt heavy, and she bit back her tounge to keep from yelling what she wanted to say. If this Iskra was somebody who was after somebody else, she didn't want to make her mad. She thought again. "Well, I might have a pa, but I think the Black God has taken him." For the first time, she looked sad and Iskra looked a bit interested. "I'm just a servant. I enjoy helping out the healers." She shrugged and stared down at her feet as if they held the mysteries of the world.

Iskra felt a pang of sympathy and regret for the question. She remembered how full of pain she had been at the loss of her beloved father, so strikingly similar to this girls story.

She tried to apologise, not easy for someone not given to regret often.

"I didn't...it's...not easy being alone." She mumbled.

She tried to change the subject.

"I have...business...to attend to here. I could use some information. Don't look so worried!" She added quickly noticing the concerned look on the girls face.

"I would never ask anyone to do my dirty work for me, or to jepordise their livelyhood, however I do need to get aquainted with certain key players here in Corus. I believe I need the nod of approval of...er...his majesty before I can go about this business. If his royal rogueness should happen to be in the vicinity right now I'd appreciate a pointer in the right direction."

She could see she'd roused the girls curiosity if nothing else.

"In return, perhaps there is something I could help you with? A favour deserves a favour."

Despite herself, Iskra couldn't help feeling a strange protectiveness towards the girl. Perhaps it was because she understood the loss the child was going through. Did she really want to get this young 'un mixed up in her business? Or vice versa?

The scowl returned to Iskra's face.

So Iskra was clearly here for the Rogue. What business, though?

Livia scowled, doing it almost as well as Iskra, but it didn't last long. She said, "His rogueness is over there." She pointed over at a man in a light white shirt and a nice vest. "His name is Lasser, at least, that's what everyone calls him." Another ugly look of hate came over her for a millisecond. He was the one responsible for her seperation from her Da, for her being on this desperate search. However, she was soon over it. "Well, mada-sorry, I mean Iskra-if you need any help with this 'business', any at all, you can count on me. I know more about the people in Corus than you might guess." She put her tankard down. "As you might have guessed, I'm not fond of Lasser, but I'd be happy to introduce you to him."

Iskra rubbed her chin thoughtfully. She slowly took in all the details of this man, Lasser's, appearance and manner. She had hear rumours in the camps in Scanra about how he operated and how brutally he'd overthrown his predecessor.

She had also seen quite clearly the look that had passed over the girls face as she'd said his name, as if it left a bad taste in her mouth to say it.

She decided that perhaps it would be better to tackle Lasser without the girl's help, it was always hard to be certain of how people would act when emotions ran high.

However, there was no doubt the girl could be more than useful, especially if she was as trustworthy as she claimed.

"Let's save meeting Lasser for another time eh?"

She paused.

"You could help me though. With information. I need to know how he works, what kind of man he is, what kind of things win his approval....jewels...girls........boys!" A wry grin touched her mouth.

"I need my work here to go smoothly and I don't want to find myself ratted out to the guard and dancing on the end of one of My Lord Provosts nooses. Not by the Rogue, not by anyone." She punctuated this with a raise of her eyebrows, so the girl would get her meaning.

"I don't take kindly to fairweather friends."

She left this sentance hanging in the air for a second.

Taking a deep breath she added softly

"I also need to get in to the palace."

Livia was stock still for a second. She was a bit scared, that was true. What business did Iskra have in the palace?

"You can certainly meet Lasser anytime. And, well, he's a bit like a crow, if that's what you'd like to know. He likes shiny stuff." Taking a deep breath, she murmured, "And I don't know how to get in the palace. I swear, they notice everything."

Iskra looked a bit suspicious. "I swear it," Livia repeated, firmly. For once, Iskra looked a little amused. "You do?" she asked. "Yes, I do," Livia repeated, as firm as she could possibly be. And she wasn't lying, either.

The girls forthright answer amused Iskra. In her life amongst the rogues of the Eastern Lands, she didn't think she'd met a youngster so forthright or so disarmingly honest.

She slipped from amusement back into thought, forgetting Livia for an instant.

"Well...there are means and ways of getting what I need from the palace." She muttered in Scanran, forgetting herself for a second.

She ignored the quizzical look on Iskra's face at the strange sound of the language.

Hastily she added:

"As for our crow friend, I'm sure I can rustle up something to bedazzle him."

Iskra chewed her lip thoughfully for a second considering how to word what she was going to say. Used to the tit for tat world of the rogue she decided the girl needed something in return for her help, Iskra was unused to people doing things for any reason other than gain and her brain refused to make the leap that would be required in her fuzzy logic to accept someones help as a token of friendship.

Taking a gulp of her drink she launched into it.

"It doesn't take a blind man to see that Lasser might be the cause of your woes. Or some of them at least. Perhaps there's something I could do for you to pay you back for your help?"

She raised her chin slightly turning the full intensity of her gaze on the girl, the answer to this question would speak volumes about her.

The stare that Iskra gave Livia was a bit disturbing, but Livia held her ground. "Well, I can think of nothing at the time. I don't even want or need thanks," she replied, "But if I do think of something, I will tell you."

Iskra nodded her head, with an expression showing no emotion, exactly like a diplomat from the Yamani Islands that she had seen a few months ago when he visited the palace.

"However, Iskra, could I ask you one thing?"

"Erm, of course."

"Do you think we've met before?"

Iskra felt a sense of relief wash through her at the girls answer. Her instict told her that the girls answer showed her quality. A lesser person would have probably asked Iskra to carry out a hit on an enemy or at least some act of retribution but the girl had asked for nothing. In Iskra's book that made someone worth knowing.

In answer to Livia's question she said:

"I have to admit, when you walked in you caught my eye. There's something familiar in you. It's your manner, the way you carry yourself. You don't look like someone who's spent time in the boarder lands in the North though. Perhaps you have kin amongst the Rogue in Galla or Scanra?"

The truth was that Iskra couldn't pinpoint why the girl was familiar. A memory itched at the back of her head, but it was to vague to put her finger on.

"I don't think we've met though youngling."

Livia shrugged. "Well, it was just a thought." She watched the people milling around for a bit, and then looked at the clock hanging upon the wall. "Mithros!" she yelped. "It's getting late!" And it was true. It was eight o'clock, straight up, when she was supposed to come back to do her evening duty in the infirmary. "Oh, gods above, I should have been back at the palace five minutes ago. The healers are going to be so angry!"

She looked at Iskra. "I'm so sorry, I just now noticed." The other woman nodded and muttered, "A pleasure to meet you." Livia called over a serving maid and payed for her drink. "Have you already paid, or may I pay for your drink too?" Iskra muttered, "I've got enough to pay for it." Livia replied, "All right, then. I'm so sorry to cut this conversation short, but I've never been late before. So if we bump into each other again, which we probably will, may we talk again?" She may have said something else, but the noise level suddenly grew, in a toast. Iskra raised her tankard as she saw the door open and close.

As the girl swung out of the door, Iskra raised her tankard to empty the dregs of the drink. The girl had given her considerable food for thought, not to mention a strong potential alliance, always useful in places such as this.

Eyeing the King of Thieves, Lasser, one last time, she heaved herself out of the chair and threw some coins down on to the bar for her drink.

She strode for the door thinking, "interesting place, Corus.", a left the Dancing Dove to its own devices.