Disclaimer: If I actually DID own this awesome property of Bioware, I'd be a very happy girl. To that extent, I suppose I'm the most depressed because I don't…. oh well!

A/N: Ok! So, yeah, here's the rewrite of chapter four. Thank you for reading, and for possibly considering reviewing!

-LFK

Neverwinter Academy, Fighter's Hall…

"You there! Recruit with the great sword! Just what do you think you are doing? Get your arse over here before you kill someone with that thing! And you! What the HELL are you doing with that quarterstaff?" Sergeant Hearse, the retired officer in charge of training the fighter classes of the Neverwinter Academy screamed himself hoarse as he tried to make himself heard over the ruckus of swords clashing, and the more distant explosions coming from the mage wings. He glared at all and sundry around his vantage point in one of the high galleries over looking the training grounds, looking for another unfortunate to yell at.

Sitting in a quiet corner of the training hall, away from the creaking of combat dummies and the thud of archery targets, a deeply hooded Majandra Damar chuckled as she watched the brawny drill sergeant shout at a wannabe paladin who was stumbling over a simple sword technique with his giant blade.

Dear Gods, she thought as she watched the spectacle of the pretty-boy human struggle with his weapon of choice. This is just too priceless! She ignored the stares and murmurs of the other trainees as her silent chuckles became full-blown, dark laughter.

It had been nearly a month and a half since Majandra and her full time guard, an agent of Lord Nasher's intelligence department named Mikhail, were formerly 'inducted' to the Academy, and the fey'ri girl's attitude had taken a dramatic turn for the better. Though life in the academy had been hell from the moment she'd stepped inside, between lewd catcalls from the perverse and constant attacks from the 'just', it was what occupied her free time that changed her opinion of Neverwinter so drastically.

At first, Majandra's days and nights at the academy had been a never-ending gauntlet of back hallway brawls with those students of the fighter classes, and secretive backstabbing with the mages, to the dismay of Mikhail. Night after night, the dark skinned weapons master and his charge would trounce the unorganized students on the way to the two-room quarters they shared, and, once there, patch each other up with the aid of spells and healing potions

Mikhail, a dark-skinned human weapon master hailing from the southern lands of Calimshan, was a quiet man who rarely spoke to Majandra outside of the limits of his duties as her jailer, yet on the fourth day following their arrival to the academy, he'd come to his charge with surprising news.

"I have received new orders," he'd told her as they sat at their customary table in the mess hall. The cafeteria had been quiet for some time now, since the students had gone back to their training, and the weapons master and his charge were given a measure of peace and blessed tranquility.

"Really," Majandra deadpanned as she glanced over her goblet of berry wine at the stoic face of her jailer turned guardian. "Has Lord Nasher," her voice took on a mocking ring that made Mikhail's eyes narrow, "decided to lock me up for harming his precious trainees? Or maybe it has to do with that paladin! What was his name? Ah, yes, Kayle. I suppose your lord didn't take too kindly…"

"The Lady Aribeth has given me liberty to escort you about the city after the dinner hour, and your duties as a student, are complete." He spoke quietly, and then returned to his simple meal of vegetable soup, a slice of buttered bread, and a cup of ale.

"…to me beating the soul of Tyr out of him- what did you say?" Majandra stopped mid sentence as she realized what he'd said, dropping all pretenses of cold indifference to her companion in the first excitement she'd felt in days.

"I said," Mikhail replied slowly as he settled his soup bowl down, "that I received orders to-"

"I know what you said!" Majandra shoved her bench back and swung her heavy cloak around her neck. "What are we waiting for?"

"Nothing," Mikhail had replied with the first smile Majandra had seen on the stony man's face, let alone that of any other being in the academy. "I just wanted to see how much you wanted out of here, and whether it was as much as I do."

"Definitely!" Majandra cracked a broad grin in reply, lighting up her face and chasing away the forbidding mask of a warrior. "Let's leave this hellhole and find some amusement!" And so they left, fey'ri and human allowing themselves to be swallowed up in the lengthening shadows of night as they searched for Neverwinter's heart.

After her treatment at the hands of the likes of Lord Nasher and other ilk, Majandra had come to believe that, with the exception of Mikhail and Aribeth, all Neverwintians were corrupt and didn't deserve her aid. Her nights spent in the city with the stoic weapon master showed her the true heart of Neverwinter in its citizens, artists, and merchants. Though she saw the fear and distrust in their eyes when Mikhail urged her to introduce herself, many of the people treated her with a tolerance she truly hadn't hoped to see. Such treatment took the first steps in melting the icy wall she had placed around her heart decades ago.

"Looks like I've caught you alone, fey'ri! Where's your babysitter? He's obviously not doing his job if Miss Majandra Damar is all on her lonesome." Majandra stiffened at the mocking tone of the male's tenor voice, startled out of her thoughts and back into the hustle and bustle of the training area, and then relaxed as she realized who'd addressed her so.

"What do you want, jaluk?" she replied in the sibilant drow tongue as she glanced up into the familiar broad smirk of the half-drow rogue who went by the name of Shade Darkstalker. She matched his grin with one of her own, a hint of fang sticking out over her lip.

The two half-breed elves were friends of a sort, brought together by the mutual dislike of the other students as much as similar ideals and professions. Upon her first official day of training in the academy, Majandra and Shade had been paired up in the initial training bouts. After a bout of taunting, the two warriors had nearly killed each other for the give and take of insults, yet when they were pulled apart, each had nodded with respect and gone their own way.

After that event, Mikhail had received orders forbidding her from sparring with students near or below her level of skill. Now, though they couldn't test each other's abilities as warriors, Shade and Majandra kept each other company during the long, fruitless days at the Academy.

"My, my," Shade said teasingly as he shifted his sheathed katana so he could slide down beside her with his back against the stone wall. His long, unruly white hair tickled Majandra's chin as her friend settled to her left. "The claws are certainly out today! Gold piece for your thoughts?"

"Only one?" Majandra replied wryly as she turned her wandering attention back to the hard at work fighters. "I'll have you know-" her words were cut off as the entire room shook to its very foundations, knocking trainers and students alike to their knees with a chorus of curses and shouts. All but those of fäe heritage, or with peerless grace and balance, were affected by the aftershock of what had to be a failed casting. Shade and Majandra remained where they were, unaffected, sharing a laugh as dwarves, halflings, and humans stumbled about disjointedly.

Plumes of smoke burst through the doors leading to the mage's arena, followed by a very scorched Master Mage Jaroo.

"Nothing to worry about!" the gaudily dressed gnome exclaimed as he waved the funky colored, and smelling, stuff away from his face with a flick of his wand. "Nothing at all! Just a little bit of an experiment from my students!"

"JAROO!" both Shade and Majandra winced as Hearse's booming voice assaulted their sensitive ears. "What the HELL was that! Didn't I make it clear that I DON'T want any more FUNNY BUSINESS coming out of you or your trainees?" the hefty sergeant stomped over and bent his face down until his beaklike nose was pressed against the gnome's sharper one. "NO MORE FOOLISHNESS! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

"Yes, sir." Jaroo, pale in the face of Hearse's wrath, replied weakly as with another wave of his wand, he dispelled the remaining cloud from the chamber.

"Wow…" Shade muttered as the two friends watched Jaroo literally melt under Hearse's heated glare as spittle flew through the air. "They didn't name that fellow sergeant at arms for nothing!"

Majandra just nodded and settled back under her hood as the room returned to its normal state of controlled, militaristic chaos. Her hands drifted to the empty sheaths of her belt where Rekkei and Tekkei-maru had been missing ever since her capture. Life in the academy, as dreary as it continually was, even with the welcome excursions into the city with Mikhail, seemed even worse without the constant commentary from her two oldest companions.

"So," Shade began again after a moment. He could feel the brooding air about his friend, even if he couldn't see her striking features from the shadow of her cloak. "Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"What's so special about tonight?" she replied a moment later, voice devoid of any emotion. Shade was startled by the lack, until he followed her gaze across the room to an olive-skinned man leaning on the wall opposite them, leather-bound sword hilts sticking up over his left and right shoulders. The heavily armored man, garbed in long gold cape and shimmering silver links, was helping the young lad the two friend's had been ridiculing before the magical disturbance.

Do I know him? Majandra frowned as she watched the broad shouldered man wield his greatsword with precision and a kind of masculine grace that only peerless warriors could achieve. I feel as if I should know his face, though from where I know not.

"Kaerion Galadorn," Shade observed, glancing curiously between the fey'ri and the human. "Knight of Kara-tûr and Paladin of Lathander the Morning Lord. He happens to be the golden boy around here, in case you didn't know. Rumor has it he was asked to come by Lady Aribeth herself, and only arrived here yesterday. Know him?"

She didn't respond immediately, but Shade could see the amber in her eyes deepen as she processed the information. Now he was worried! Never before had Majandra shown more than a cursory interest in another student, and yet here she was, attention completely drawn to the human paladin.

Kara-tûr! Could he possibly…? No, I'm just imagining things. Majandra tore her eyes away from the curiously intriguing man and back to her friend. "Perhaps," she finally answered his question, but it wasn't the reply he was looking for. "But that is neither here nor there. Now, what about tonight?"

"Tonight?" Shade's face was blank for a moment, and then red-tinged comprehension flooded his ebony cheeks. "Oh! Right, tonight. Don't tell me you forgot what day it is!"

"Graduation day." Majandra replied as she stood abruptly, mind suddenly focused on a new target, and stalked towards Hearse's platform.

"Well, yeah!" Shade hurriedly got up and fell into step beside her, matching her feline-like strides with a balanced saunter. "But tonight, after the ceremony, there is supposed to be a grand ball for all the students."

"And?" Shade's face fell at her tone, but, before he had a chance to ask, Hearse's was already addressing them.

"Ah!" the big man boomed down at them, voice as soft as he could get it out of respect for their sensitive ears. "My favorite half-breeds! What can I do for ye?"

"I was wondering if you had any new opponents for me," Majandra replied easily, trading the usual wariness in her voice for warmth and respect. "You know, just a bit of a workout before this bunch leaves and a bunch of greenhorns come in."

"You'll be hard pressed to find a partner, then," Hearse replied, but Majandra could see his eyes flickering about the hall as he measured and dismissed possible fighters. "No one wants to show up to the ball, dressed up in their feast day finery, with a beat up face and sore body!"

"I could've told you that!" Shade added irritably. All he wanted was to ask his friend if he could escort her to the ball, and she chose fighting over talking to him!

"What about…" Majandra made a show in scanning the gym for an opponent before pausing on the gold-cloaked paladin. "Him! I don't think I've ever seen him before, and rumor has it that he's a skilled fighter."

"Well," Hearse mused to himself as he stroked his stubbly chin in thought. "I haven't truly had a chance to see him fight yet, so I guess that's a yes! But only on one condition." Majandra choked down the burst of excitement she was feeling and nodded quickly. "Practice weapons only, and neither of you better be taking a trip to the infirmary. Clear?"

"Yes, sir!" Majandra saluted and then brushed past a speechless Shade as she headed towards the weapons rack.

A/N: seeing as you made it to the end of this page (provided you actually read my author's notes), will you consider reviewing? Anyone who does will get a plot cookie! (and my ever lasting devotion, besides)

LFK