AN: Not sure where this came from and its not exactly what I planned, but I blame Bumi for the latter and think it turned out better for it ( :) ). Anyway hope you enjoy this little tale.
For those readers who are so patiently awaiting the next part of Dragon Tile, its coming soon, I promise.

Chey the Reputation Stealer

Piandao walked through the White Lotus army camp, the outer wall of Ba Sing Se looming over them all. It was dark and people had gathered around little fires in groups to chat and generally spend downtime how armies always had.

One such group caught his attention. Everyone was facing the storyteller with his crazy hair and exaggerated hand motions. Piandao thought he was one of Jeong-Jeong's men, judging by the clothes and the leaf hat beside him.

"... He was a general, or admiral, highly ranked anyway, then he left the military. First man ever to leave and live. He's a legend, Jeong-Jeong the Deserter. I was the second, but you don't get to be a legend for that."

With a quiet huff, Piandao moved on. Jeong-Jeong the 'first to leave and live,' huh? Well, he was going to have a brief word with the famed deserter about that.

The high-ranking members of the Order generally gathered in Iroh's tent when not doing anything else. And Jeong-Jeong, ever the grumpy recluse since his desertion, spent most of his time there with the small group.

Piandao entered. "I don't normally care much for gossip or reputation but not all of us have estimable military careers and lists of famed battles to our names." The statement applied to most in the tent but two best, however the steady, steely gaze on Jeong-Jeong let Iroh know he was in the clear on this matter.

"What are you going on about?" Pakku asked. Bumi cackled knowingly.

"You fought in many battles, my friend." Iroh posed. Not that he could say which. When he had officially met the sword master he had been informed by the man that they were already acquainted, that he had served under his command for three years, had delivered his division's transfer orders personally-a great honor to be chosen for-but had refused to this day to tell him which years or campaigns those years had entailed.

"Yes, as a nameless, faceless foot soldier. I have only one to my name, and I'm rather proud of the event and its circumstances."

"You sound like we are proud of those years of warfare, we left after all." Jeong-Jeong responded with a tone of deep annoyance.

"Yes, you did. And during which reign was that, Jeong-Jeong the Deserter, first man to leave the army and live?"

Helpfully, Bumi joined in, "I seem to recall the tale of a lone soldier who retired young and fought one hundred firebenders with only a sword to win the right of young Azulon leaving him in peace, some ten years prior to when you ceased to be the scourge of my seas."

Pakku continued to look confused and doubtful of whether he should leave the tent now filled with this bewilderment of a conversation. Meanwhile, Iroh watched it unfold with a smile of indulgence toward his friend's rare bout to pettiness.

Jeong-Jeong finally understood. He bowed his head and gripped the bridge of his nose. "Chey has been telling stories again."

"You should stop that boy, one day he's going to offend someone," Bumi suggested.

Pakku at last figuring out what this was about, spoke with a serene, slightly pompous expression. "A thief of reputations is one in league with Koh for how do we distinguish men but by face and name and reputation. Robbing someone of any one of these diminshes them."

There was a moment of silence. "Well that's a very Fire Nation thing for you to say, Pakku," Piandao at last said for all of them.

"I heard it once from a very cold young man who insisted on proper titles but wouldn't claim credit for anything he had not personally done." His icy eyes twinkled with a fond amusement toward the one member present who had only pause in his tea drinking for the briefest of moments at the quote. "And so what if it is, aren't you the one who goes on about how things belong to no one nation?"

Bumi interrupted any response that might have come to the waterbender's words. "Perhaps we should join the men and share some tales of our own, dispell the rumors so to speak. I for one, have been hearing stories of how my reign began that aren't nearly outrageous enough."

There was general agreement to the suggestion, except from the former admiral who was goaded into reluctant ascent. Outside the tent they took position of a mostly open fire and the attention of much of the camp with stories such as that of a young idiot and an old fool in love, a nineteen-year-old mad-genius' crowning achievement, an asked for telling of an old lie about the last dragon's demise, the deal struck with an elderly firelord in the blood of one hundred firebenders, and a surprisingly eloquent moral tale about a fly and a firebender from the most reluctant participant.