An Axe to Grind
I went out to the Harbingers of Dawn tavern night, but didn’t even make it in the door.  I stopped to inquire that I was in the right place with a Highlander man in the yard and that’s where I ended up spending most of the evening.  He introduced himself only as Alex, but that’s fair since I only introduced myself as Katja.
Yeah, I know, technically by Seeker rules it should be K’atja — hence just Atja — to honor the tribe, but considering the Pig and how much I hate him, I refuse to take anything of his.  It’s bad enough that his blood flows in my veins and I have the name he gave me; I won’t subject myself to his archaic rules that I somehow belong to him.  He’s dead.  So I belong to no one.  I am my own miqo’te.
Anyway, I spoke at length with Alex talking about the various functions of these Harbingers and his role there.  When he told me that he had training as a marauder, I couldn’t believe it.  Not this man in full-plate, looking and speaking like the Free Paladin he claimed to be training as.  So, I called his bluff and bade him go fetch his axe and we’d see just what kind of marauder he was.  Unexpectedly, he went inside and did exactly that.
Another miqo’te came along while Alex was inside, but we spoke only briefly before the Highlander returned, determined to prove himself.  Assuring the miqo’te I was fine, Alex led me away and we traveled by aetheryte to Aleport and onward to Sastasha where the Yellowjackets had claimed there was trouble.  We went through that cavern, clearing out the pirate and sahagin scum.
Most importantly, though, Alex proved his skill with an axe as well as providing me with a well-crafted weapon of my own.  I don’t know where he got it from, but the craftsmanship is finer than anything I’ve ever had in my possession.  I could likely sell it for a fair sum, enough to keep mother comfortable and taken care of for moons, but — I couldn’t do that.  Not in the face of Alex’s hope and gentle honesty.  He genuinely wanted me to succeed as a marauder and to keep myself safe.  I don’t know why he cares though, it isn’t as if he knows me.
Or is it truly bound to the goal to help everyone, as he says?  I don’t know.  I don’t know him well enough to gauge.  Yet, I like to think I’m a good judge of character and I don’t see anything in him yet that I gives me cause to be suspicious.  He’s lived up to his word, so far, so we’ll see if his trend continues.
I went out to the Harbingers of Dawn tavern night, but didn’t even make it in the door.  I stopped to inquire that I was in the right place with a Highlander man in the yard and that’s where I ended up spending most of the evening.  He introduced himself only as Alex, but that’s fair since I only introduced myself as Katja.
Yeah, I know, technically by Seeker rules it should be K’atja — hence just Atja — to honor the tribe, but considering the Pig and how much I hate him, I refuse to take anything of his.  It’s bad enough that his blood flows in my veins and I have the name he gave me; I won’t subject myself to his archaic rules that I somehow belong to him.  He’s dead.  So I belong to no one.  I am my own miqo’te.
Anyway, I spoke at length with Alex talking about the various functions of these Harbingers and his role there.  When he told me that he had training as a marauder, I couldn’t believe it.  Not this man in full-plate, looking and speaking like the Free Paladin he claimed to be training as.  So, I called his bluff and bade him go fetch his axe and we’d see just what kind of marauder he was.  Unexpectedly, he went inside and did exactly that.
Another miqo’te came along while Alex was inside, but we spoke only briefly before the Highlander returned, determined to prove himself.  Assuring the miqo’te I was fine, Alex led me away and we traveled by aetheryte to Aleport and onward to Sastasha where the Yellowjackets had claimed there was trouble.  We went through that cavern, clearing out the pirate and sahagin scum.
Most importantly, though, Alex proved his skill with an axe as well as providing me with a well-crafted weapon of my own.  I don’t know where he got it from, but the craftsmanship is finer than anything I’ve ever had in my possession.  I could likely sell it for a fair sum, enough to keep mother comfortable and taken care of for moons, but — I couldn’t do that.  Not in the face of Alex’s hope and gentle honesty.  He genuinely wanted me to succeed as a marauder and to keep myself safe.  I don’t know why he cares though, it isn’t as if he knows me.
Or is it truly bound to the goal to help everyone, as he says?  I don’t know.  I don’t know him well enough to gauge.  Yet, I like to think I’m a good judge of character and I don’t see anything in him yet that I gives me cause to be suspicious.  He’s lived up to his word, so far, so we’ll see if his trend continues.
![[Image: bravedieonce.png]](https://sanguinestorm.files.wordpress.com/2016/07/bravedieonce.png)
   