Disclaimer: Have tried to tie this story to canon as much as possible so recognisable phrases are probably the wonderful Tamora's, who pierce-d my heart when Beka didn't end up with Rosto.

A small mot huddled on a corner, weeping. I sounded her out for a possible robbing, but there wasn't much by the way of riches. A few promising amulets perhaps – there was a curious series of coins knotted in crimson thread hanging from her belt – but I had a conscience, however small… and there was nothing truly worth my time. A shuffling movement caught my eye; clearly some foist thought otherwise. He moved towards her surreptitiously.

I leapt back. Sparkling fire had latched onto the writhing man as the brunette whirled around in a fury. Now that was interesting. Scanra was so poor I'd have to leave sometime... and the journey would undoubtedly be easier with a mage by my side.

I sauntered over, hands in pockets, then stopped. Mages could be tricky; they were like cats that way. Too late; the mot turned and saw me. Her blue-green eyes narrowed defiantly and her gift shimmered around her upraised hands. "Rosto the Piper", I called out, trying to convey I meant no harm. She pondered for a moment, then softened.

"Koramin Ingensrad" she said in a soft, pretty voice. I hesitated, then broke in, "What's a pretty gixie like you crying for?" She blushed but that was soon replaced by a downcast expression. "My sister… she's with the Black God now. Some cracked childkiller got her. I… I tried to stop him, but I was too late."

I hadn't expected quite so much from a mot I'd just met. I stiffened in shock, alarmed by the revelation and unsure what to say. She looked up with swollen red eyes and patted the ground next to her.

"Sit, Rosto the Piper. Do you play?"

With that, I quirked a smile and got out the flute hidden inside my tunic. I watched as she listened, enraptured. Slowly she rose to her feet, lifting her hands and swaying in the beginnings of a dance. She paused - a frown marred her captivation as we heard shouts and the clashing of swords. I loped around the corner, fingering my knife with trepidation. Steel clanged on steel and there appeared to be a swordfight of some kind going on.

A tall, muscled mot slowly turned to face me, having dispatched her opponent. She immediately straightened, breathing heavily as she assessed me. Her hand moved from the wound in her side and in a flash she had her sword in hand. Suddenly she faltered, her eyes darting somewhere behind me, off to the side. Wondering if I was falling for the oldest trick in the book, I turned slightly and breathed a sigh of relief. Kora had just appeared around the corner, looking concerned at the figure in front of me.

I swung back to face the front as the swordswoman scrutinised us. I cleared my throat, "Not a good idea, love. Two against one and that one's a mage". The blonde's eyes widened, but she wasn't gazing at where Kora stood smiling innocently, flexing her shimmering hands. I was puzzled for a moment, but she burst out, "Rosto the Piper! I thought i' was you!"

Surprised, I inspected her more carefully. The stance, the voice… "Aniki Forsryning! It's been a while!" I grinned and tucked the knife away. My mind flashed back to the military training a few years back. I'd only gone coz Da forced me to. In our house, you didn't argue with Da. If you did… well, I had the scars to remember it by. Proof not to cross the old tosser. Although that wasn't an issue now that he was done for. Idly, I fingered the forked scar across my brow, a reminder from my short time in service to the King.

Kora's voice pulled me back from my thoughts. "Rosto?" she called hesitantly. I recovered, flashing them a smile, "Aniki, this is Koramin Ingensrad. Kora, this is Aniki Forsryning." The two women smiled slightly at each other and I voiced, "Supper, anyone?"