[centre][color=Silver][h2][b]Valette Royeaux[/b][/h2][/color][/centre]

[color=Silver][i]They all look children.[/i][/color]

[color=Gray]As was her custom, Valette had made herself relatively unnoticeable; shrinking into corners and standing far back from other groups to avoid unintended interaction. It was partly her nature as a former cutpurse, stalking her target and observing their habits and movements for some time before striking.  Of course, it took longer to rob someone that way but she had gone unnoticed and free for years, thanks to her cautiousness, before finally being caught by the Vasel Town Watch.  That had been poor luck on her part, with everyone on edge about the invasion the Town Watch had been on the lookout for spies and had spotted her tailing a well-to-do gentleman.

Mostly it was to do with her Darcsen heritage, though. Going unnoticed was better with her race's history. Being noticed usually meant insults and physical abuse being hurled her way and she was sure the suspicion around Darcsens was what had led the Town Watch to be initially curious about her activities the day she was caught. Either way, it had led her here and, by some strange twist in fortune, she had been given the rank of Corporal and her wages, meagre though they were, were sufficient to keep her extended family afloat back in Vasel. It was honest work and it would keep them safe so, for now at least, she was pleased with the development.

Having been ordered to report to the Northern depots for their CO's introduction she had hung back outside the workshop, watching some of the other squad members arrive from under the luxurious shade of an oak tree, one of the few left in the HQ with most having being ripped up to make space for tents, warehouses and other depots. She had decided that many of the conscripts looked very young although those in her squad appeared a little older than the average with some close to her own age but few appeared older. Either the older generations had avoided conscription or they had already headed to the battlefield and, presumably, perished.

Happy that she would not be the centre of attention when she arrived, Valette stepped out from the shadow of the oak and crossed the tarmac to the workshop, slipping in through the doors quietly. Having grown up on the streets she was used to moving quietly and smoothly, another testament to her less fortuitous upbringing being the knife hidden up her sleeve for that rare, close-quarters emergency although she envisaged few of those coming up.

The two tanks immediately caught her attention, one very clearly being a brand new model while the other looked well beaten with some non-standard and, quite frankly, desperate looking modifications. Frowning in disapproval, and worry, at the lack of proper materials apparently being made available to the militia, she crossed the workshop floor to join her fellow squadmates milling around. She nodded to a couple, seeking out the Sergeant she was second to and, feeling awkward at the unfamiliar movement, saluted him.

[color=Silver]"Corporal Royeaux, I'm your second, sir."[/color]

It was simple but what more could she say? She was clearly a Darcsen and had no military experience so there was nothing more to say. She definitely was not going to bring up the reason for her conscription until it was relevant, especially with so many people, whom she might have to give orders to, around them. Life was going to be hard enough in the Militia as a Darcsen, let alone a Darcsen known to be a former thief.[/color]