[h2][center][color=f6989d]Ashley Wyatt Harper[/color][/center][/h2] Harper tapped the coin on the hard wood of the table, his legs stretched out beneath him and his torso resting forward on the frame as if he had deflated. In truth, he was being weighed down by that coin; the last one always was the heaviest. If he were sensible he would spend it on a meal or a bed, buying himself one more evening of comfort before desperation forced him out of the gray and into the black. If he had given up he would’ve bought himself a drink or a companion, one last vice before he went off to embrace the Mistress. If he had any luck he would put it all on the roll of the dice, but only if he could be the one to supply the dice. He had been cheated as many times as he himself had cheated, if not more. In the end, though, he took none of those options. Harper knew that the moment he spent that coin all of the other opportunities would close; as long as he held onto it his options were limitless. He just wished that his time was, too. However, it all wasn’t so bleak. Tap. It may had been at the price of him leaving most of his money behind on the card table, but he had cheated death in the last town—his coat still had the cut to prove it. If he had to become a beggar, he couldn’t pick a better town than Risha; the breeze was nice, the sun was shining, and there was something pleasant about the scent of the sea. Tap, tap. Maybe he could become a fisherman. Doubtful. He knew he would make for a better pirate, excluding his inability to sail. A minor detail. Tap. Still, it was nice to have a flight of fancy about digging up chests of lost treasure as he relaxed in the corner of the open-air tavern, his face looking out longingly towards the sea. Tap. Harper could hear what sounded like a group of drunken, off-key singers. From the sounds of things, it was getting closer. He smiled. Good to know that some people were having fun; maybe they would feel generous on the sad sap and buy him a drink. It sounded like they needed an (equally terrible sounding) tenor to go with their bass and baritone. Tap. The choir walked by the large, open window; five of them, armored up and armed to the teeth. Gladiators. Pre-emptively celebrating their victories in the tournament, Harper supposed. His smile turned bittersweet. His troubles would all be settled if he could set foot back in the arena, but he knew that door had been closed due to his time in Ashar. Tap. His eyes went wide with recognition as the group piled in through the door and swarmed the bar. What were they doing here? Time to go before things got awkward. Quickly, Harper pocketed his coin and slid out of his seat. He had made it three steps before a booming voiced slurred out: “Oy! Look who it is! Harper, get over here, you prick.” Before Harper knew it, a pair of strong hands had grabbed him on either shoulder and practically dragged him over to the bar. The owner of the voice—a large, barrel-chested man—clapped him, hard, on the back. “I knew it was you. Trying to run out on ol’ Angus, eh?” [color=f6989d]“Angus, Angus,”[/color] said Harper, muttering on his voice as he rubbed his chin as if he was trying to place the name with the face. He had met Angus about a dozen of times, fought him and his crew about half a dozen, beaten his team twice, and given him a black-eye outside of the arena once. Hopefully the giant didn’t remember that. Harper’s voice picked up as he pretended to just recognize him. [color=f6989d]“Oooh, Angus! Yeah. How have you been, friend?”[/color] Harper looked around; familiar faces, same crew. [color=f6989d]“What brings you boys all the way out here? Last I heard you were try to crush the competition in Arlen.”[/color] “We crushed the competition in Arlen,” said Angus, poking a meaty finger into Harper’s chest. [color=f6989d]“Ah, yes, always heard they were a soft bunch there, guess it must’ve been true,”[/color] said Harper, smiling as he gingerly pushed the finger away from his chest. [color=f6989d]“So you decided to go out of the way to come all the way here to compete in the little leagues? Didn’t you boys used to fight in Letum?”[/color] Harper gritted his teeth and, talking out the side of his mouth, said, [color=f6989d]”My, that’s not quite the fairy tale ending any of you could’ve been hoping for, eh?”[/color] “Big talk for someone who doesn’t even compete anymore,” chimed in one of the more-sober members of Angus’s crew. Another big guy. Harper looked around; they were all big guys. Intimidating, sure, but not diverse enough to make it far in any tournaments. One well protected mage could shred all of them. “More like can’t compete,” said Angus, crossing his arms. “From what I hear you can’t even set foot in an arena these days and that no team will have you.” [color=f6989d]”I admit, I do bring an unfair advantage to any team I am on. The matches just wouldn’t be interesting, I’m afraid. [i]And Harper’s team wins again[/i],”[/color] he said in an inexpressive, dull drone and then shrugged. [color=f6989d]“Nobody would come to the arena’s anymore.”[/color] “I think you meant to say that you’d bring an unfair handicap to any team you’re on. Getting shot in the back by your own teammate doesn’t really put you in an advantageous position,” said Angus, smirking. [color=f6989d]“Okay, seriously, that’s a little cheap,”[/color] said Harper. [color=f6989d]”I don’t bring up how I had you convinced that I knew magic for three months.”[/color] Harper saw some eyebrows raise behind their mugs. [color=f6989d]“He didn’t tell you that one, did he? Oh it’s a great story. So, see, all I did was—”[/color] “Ah-bah-bah-bah, nobody wants to hear you spin one of your yarns, Harper.” [color=f6989d]“—soaked a rag in kerosene, wrapped it around a rock, and struck a match. Nearly burned my damn fingers off, but ol’ Gus here was warning everybody about how my team had a fire mage on it for damn near—”[/color] “Harper, shut up! Nobody cares what you had to say when you were in it, and absolute nobody cares what you have to say now that you’re a has-been.” “Yeah,” chimed in the same big guy. Both Harper and Angus shot him a disgusted look. “I would say we’d see you when we’re collecting our first place prize, but…” [color=f6989d]“But it’d be impossible, since my team already has it in the bag, I know. Second place is still admirable, though, I guess. I mean, if you’re into losing.’[/color] The words were out of Harper’s mouth before he realized what he was saying. One brag too far. Quickly, he glued his lips shut. “You don’t have a team, Harper,” said Angus, matter-of-factly. He had a pretty damn good head on his shoulders for such a big guy. “Pft, yeah. I bet the only one that would take you is that Ignis kid. He’s so desperate he’d take anyone,” said the other guy. Harper’s eyes went wide; Angus shot the man another look of disgust. [color=f6989d]”Well I didn’t have a team,”[/color] said Harper. [color=f6989d]”Guess the next time I’ll see you will be inside that beautiful, bloody ring.”[/color] Harper offered a half-bow and turned to leave, his pace quickening as he got closer to the door. He had thought that perhaps Angus would try and snatch him, maybe sit him down a give him a gladiator-to-man talk of why a disgrace like Harper shouldn’t ruin the sanctity of the arena by jumping back in it, or at least why he shouldn’t ruin this Iggy-kid’s shot at making a name for himself by bandwagoning along, but the man didn’t. Perhaps he didn’t care. Perhaps he believed that Harper might actually deserve a chance. Whichever it was, Harper was glad he didn’t feel a meaty paw grab him by the scruff. One thing was clear: Angus had definitely forgotten about the black eye. He was walking by the big window when the man called out after Harper, saying something. Turning his head, Harper stopped and stared at Angus. [color=f6989d]”Come again?”[/color] “I said we’re heading to Letum after this. I’ll be sure to tell Allegra you say hi the next time I see her,” said Angus, sneering. Harper hung his shoulders. [color=f6989d]”C’mon man, I told you I was sorry about that suckerpunch.”[/color] He flipped his last coin to Angus. [color=f6989d]“Next one’s on me, big guy.”[/color] [hr] Harper heaved a sigh of relief as the guards confirmed that he had, in fact, finally found the Doman domain. The man had spent the better part of his day pestering locals and travellers alike for directions as well as pressing them for any information on who was this Ignis Doman character. Harper would be the first to admit that he did not know everybody, but he knew a lot of people, and he especially at least made certain to know of anyone who owned land, was wealthy, or had blue in their blood. Yet this Doman guy seemed like a blank slate; nouveau riche, then. Harper would be fine with that. Certainly someone with such little history would be concerned about Harper’s own little history. Maybe. Hopefully. Whatever. It was clear from the state of the grounds and the full guard duty that Doman had money, and that was Harper’s entire reason of coming. Well, money, and to back up his big talk. He hated to admit it, but Angus had gotten underneath his skin and the last thing he wanted was to have him go blabbing back to Allegra on what a sad sap he had turned out to be. He’d have to have a serious man-to-man with Angus after all of this; they might butt heads every now and then, but the giant was a sweet guy at the end of the day. Certainly he’d understand, but right now Harper was only looking forward to shutting up his big damn mouth. From the looks of things it looked like he wasn’t the only one who had answered the call. So he was fashionably late. Good, he didn’t want to seem too eager or too needy, although a part of him wished he had shown up early enough so that he could get a feel for the group gathered around the food and drinks—it’d be nice to know if he were joining a lost cause. He quickly sized them up as his escorts made themselves scarce, one of them muttering that Lord Iggy would see him in a moment. Three lads, two ladies. Well, he’s seen worse ratios before. Shifting the bag slung over his shoulders, he further scrutinized the group as he walked over to join them, taking in the detail of their arms and armor. [i]Okay, Harp, here’s what you’ve gotta work with. Pops there beating up that helpless wooden man and our thirsty boy Red are without a doubt your frontline rushers. All brawn, little brains, no magic, no problem. Hopefully they can follow simple orders. Also, maybe we should try to refrain from being a conceited jerk, at least around them. No doubt they could snap your scrawny ass in two. Big weapons give big hits, and big hits give big applauses. Good lads. Next up is the Big Bear. A shield? Seriously? Okay, you’ll be some work. Hopefully you just bash in brains with it and nothing else. Not that I’d be upset if you decide to just stand in front of your new best friend; just make sure to lower that thing every once in awhile to let some cuts in so you give the kids some blood. You’re already one step there without that shirt. Speaking of wardrobe, did you lose your shoes lady? Should I leave a little caltrop lying around in the grass to teach you why we wear boots? No, better not—no weapons, no armor, come on, might as well carry around a sign that says “I do magic, kill me first” and be done with it. Judging by the ashy clothing and the singed hair my guess is you’re either a fire mage or you cleaned a chimney before this. Or was it both, Char? Oh, and don’t think I missed you sulking over there, Knives. Obviously, you’re...um...a mystery. Well, that’s terrifying. Then again, maybe you’re just here for the food. Boy, do you need it; and I thought I was hungry.[/i] [color=f6989d]“My I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more vicious pack of skull bashers and throat cutters in my entire life,”[/color] said Harper. He didn’t intend for it to sound sarcastic but, well, surely they had common sense. [color=f6989d]“Pardon me, sweetheart. Here, this works better,”[/color] he said, sidling around the redheaded man to fill up a goblet of wine and setting an empty cup next to what looked as if it was supposed to be a community jug. [color=f6989d]“See, we already make a great team.”[/color] [color=f6989d]“Now I’d love to stay and chat, but I can see that our host does not have a glass of wine and I must fix that,[/color] said Harper, quickly adding, [color=f6989d]”because either he’s sober, or he’s secretly an extremist for the Cult, and neither of those are good things. Enjoy your drinks.[/color]