[centre]Date: 5th of Seliel, Turn 698 AU - NIGHT
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The night was a coal black interrupted by sparkling stars that laid out blueprints for imaginative pictures and age old stories. The pale moon shone brightly down on the royal encampment; a few tents and tied up horses. 

The area was a damp grassy hill, with only a single warm fire to fight away the coming chills. Jopol sat quietly by the fire, a long rotted twig in his hand. His clothes were cleaned back at the citadel and only now faintly stunk of the seas salty breath. A thick woollen blanket hung off his shoulders, catching what heat the fire had to give. His silver eyes followed the dancing licks of flame as he thought mildly on the recent events. 

He had been promoted, which was good, or was it bad? He had no idea. It was as if two tigers fought inside his very soul, one ashen and dutiful, a true formidable creature, and one red and passionate, full of life and a sense of ambitious emotion. The rumble of the bout caused his heart to skip a beat and he grasped his chest as he let out a shuttering breath, his lips growing cold from the long expulsion. 

Through his hard working pauper life he had little hope, and even less care. If he was born anything but an Ashtoken he would have been labelled a silly name such as "sky" or "elephant", and possibly "bone". Despite unknown presumably dead parents he had never known, these bastardious terms never touched the lips or flung off the tongue of anyone who spoke to him, for he was Ashtoken, he was fourth tribe, he was Shi'iti. To this he owed mountainous gratitude and should lay his life down in return no matter what, but his once well hidden heart had already been claimed, and there it would stay. 

"Shouldn't you be resting?" A mans voice could be heard from the right of Jopol, a young man no older than twenty five walked towards the High Admiral. A thick stubble covered most of his face as he wore the purple clothing of the Odeshian Royal Guard. A sabre rested on his left as the familiar Odesian hand crossbow was on the right. His head was topped with a purple turban, covering the scraggly black hair that was hidden underneath.

"Thought I'd watch the camp in case any-"

Jopol slapped his own cheek in a frenzy. He removed his hand and observed the small twitching mosquito that had bit him, "In case any... mosquitos attack," Jopol finished with a hearty tone. 

"Well you don't seem to be doing such a great job" The man chuckled looking to the odd man, ashtoken where so much different to Odeshian, and even though this one seemed far more laid back, he still stuck out as Ash folk. The guard recognised the man but couldn't quite put his finger on it. "Im Joshua" He said his hand extending to Jopol. "Royal Guard to Queen Whiteshorn of Odesh" 

"Jopol," The Ash kin said, shaking the mans hand. "Royal guard, huh?" Jopol continued, remembering all the guards he had out manuvuered getting in and out of Elle's room, "See any action lately? I myself have been growing rusty for years, only to be thrusted into a military position for one decent idea."

"Not really, It seems I am a soldier without a war... though im lucky to still have my job since the whole Whiteshorn assassination incident... a lot of people got laid off after that." Josh cracked his knuckles and sat beside the man "Oh! Jopol. The new High Admiral!" The man suddenly remembered "Well... I don't think I am supposed to know that yet... but Elle is quite talkative when she has drank a few... I probably shouldn't be sharing that information either..." Josh laughed a little "Im sure it is no surprise that the Lords and Ladys enjoy getting pissed" 

A fiegned smile stretched across Jopols stubbling cheeks, [i] you don't know the half of it [/i], he thought to himself.

"Yes I hear the more regal enjoy a good tantrum," Jopol replied a little louder than hoped. He turned back to the fire allowing silence to disperse his announcement. A yexara laid next to the fire, a gift from Gori, congratulating his progress. Such a gift is priceless to any Ashishian, and Jopol liked to think the same feeling of contentment was inside him, if only it didn't remind him of his inner struggle. 

"Ever use one of those," Jopol asked, making the best of the sword as he pointed at the blade that shone against the flames. 

"Cant say I have, though this does me fine" Josh unsheathed the large sabre from his side and passed the blade to Jopol "It isn't anything special, but it cuts heads from shoulders" Josh wouldn't actually know if this was true, as he had never killed anyone. Sure incidents had happened in the five years he had been part of the Royal Guard, but nothing that had escalated to the spilling of blood. "I hope to get into the Scouting corps to be honest, they are all ex Royal Guardsman and are the best of the best.... all you have to do is wear that uniform and everyone treats you as if you are a lord.." Josh looked upwards to the black void that was the sky "Fame, fortune, woman" Josh laughed "You get it all being part of the Scouting Corp."

Jopol balanced the blade against his palm, "Sounds lovely," he said without taking his eyes from the sword.

A fun little thought entered his mind at that moment, "Hey, Joshua, want to practice?"

Jopol reached for the hilt of the yexara and sat back up with it. 

"You can pick what sword you want, I just need to loosen some bolts." 

An elegant smile was prevalent on Jopols face, one that clearly meant his tired exhausted mind wasn't thinking things through. 

"Well, I guess I can see how fast I beat you" Josh teased taking his blade back and hopping up onto his feet, he swung the blade in a figure eight then loosened out his arm more by swinging the sabre. "Ok lets try and not murder each other, id hate to get blood on this uniform"

"Well," was all Jopol said while leaping to his own feet. His hand tightened around the comfortable new hilt and he posed himself in a plow ward. He could still hear his Shi'iti martial master shouting commands, followed by correlating facial signals. 

Joshua stepped forward, swiping a shallow swing to provoke the fight. His blade was met with the thrust of the Yexara, effectively sliding along the edge of the sabre as Jopol advanced forward. 

The cross guard of the Yexara flicked, parrying the first swing, and double backed with a long draw cutting swing of its own. Joshua countered quickly Sending his blade perpendicular with a loud clang. 

Jopol smiled, and Josh returned it. The two began to skilfully and quickly swing their swords at each other, each time the blades met with a loud clang. The two circled each other as their blades danced, the yexaras blade singing against the generated wind. 

Jopol advanced forward aggressively, throwing Joshua off his balance trying to parry a powerful stroke. The man caught himself and used his new momentum to thrust upwardly. Jopol dodged to the side and swung low at the back of Joshes knee. The blade was jumped over by the guard, who then grabbed Jopols arm as he fell backwards. The two landed into one of the tents, effectively caving it. Then with unceasing energy the two abrasively leapt back in stance and continued their now loud duel of clangs and clashes. A quick parry of the sabre, a counter from Josh, skilled foot work to the side. They used every thing they were taught as the camp came to life. Guards rushed out of their tents and unsheathed their weapons at the violent sight of the seemingly aggressive fight the two continued by the blazing fire. 

The duellers ignored the shouts from the guards as their blades flashed blinding reflections of the fire, and the sharp edges and points barely missed vital areas. Josh threw a punch, terminating the counter Jopol was fluidly designing with a smack. Now the fight really heated up, as the Shi'iti started to remember not only his more advanced training, but what he had done to kill the few pirates he was forced to. The yexara arced with magnificent strength, and the sabre was brought to a defensive ward to catch the violent swing and rebuttal. The singing Ashishian steel bit into the sabre, effectively damaging the blade at a brittle point, and nearly shattering it all together and ripping it from the guards grasp, only to be slid back and formed into a quick thrust. Joshua spun away from the point and to Jopols side, using the momentum to create a strong horizontal attack. Jopol ducked and rushed forward with his yexara in an upward "ox" ward aimed at the mans face. The rise gave forth to a strong thrust only to both their discomfort as an all too familiar voice yelled at them disrupting the attack and knocking Josh down crudely. 

"What are you two doing!" Elle yelled, she was carrying a large crossbow that was pointed to the floor. Her silk nightgown flapped in the cold breeze, what could be seen of her face showed undisputed anger.

The guard sank away as Jopol took the heat. 

"It was my fault, I called his mother hairy," Jopol blurted. He was terrible at covering other peoples actions, and recognized the face Elle gave him,

"By hairy mothers I mean friendly bout."

A large "forgive me" smile shone from the guilty mans face. 

Elle really wanted to be angry, what an idiot! This so called duel was disrupting the entire camp. She really wanted to be angry but.... god damn it "Don't let it happen again!" Elle yelled flustered by the handsome mans grin as she turned to return back to her tent. 

Jopol looked at the seemingly disappointed guards who had watched the fight, "Nothing left to see, go back to bed."

With that the guards grumbled and returned to their tents. Jopol sheathed his new sword and crept over to the regal tent, and skillfully slipped in. 

Elle sat at a small portable desk, the stool she sat on was uncomfortable but better than standing. She was working once again, it seemed she could never have a break. Tonight she was planning the trade that Gori Lamillur has promised her, figuring out just how much metal that would be. She heard a movement behind her "I have not requested any company" Elle said allowed, not taking her eyes off the paperwork. 'He is insane' Elle thought. 

"Jopol Shempul reporting," the man said redundantly and digging a tiny scroll out of his pocket and flicking it onto the desk. 

"I can see you're busy, but perhaps a drawn up list of demands and shipping agreements of metal to Odesh would further your... demands and shipping agreements of metal to Odesh. Just check off the amount, and what you are willing to pay, keep in mind your discount you suavely persuaded," the Ash skin chuckled. 

"This should save a few hours of writing up documents, I worked on it during our long march, it has become second nature, your majesty," Jopol leaned lightly against the tents support beam, careful not to cause any more disruptions. His sudden ego rising up as a wall to deflect the guilt he felt for disturbing her, and although it flooded his voice quite expertly, his face remained lined with guilt and discomfort, causing the sham to be easily unravelled. 

He buckled under the weight, "I'm sorry."

Elle looked up to the man , then the scroll, " For a second there you where sounding like someone who actually knows what they are doing" She joked placing her papers down and standing up, walking towards Jopol. "Dont worry, no-one in power actually knows what they are doing half the time" Elle smiled softly at the man, standing a foot or so away, the warm fuzzy feeling she felt when they embraced rising from her stomach. He looked disgruntled, and rightfully so. He wasnt a Commander, he was a swash buckling sailor. Her sailor. 

Elle slowly leaned in and kissed the handsome man who happily returned the favor.

 "You should go get some sleep" She said smiling "Maybe tommorow you will feel better?"