Corwin awoke to the terrifying sight of a large, hairy man staring him dead in the eyes.

Seeing him awake, and in shock, the hairy man threw his head back and chortled.

“Ay Keen, it seems yer ‘prisoner’ ain’t as tough as you made us believe!”

“Heck, ‘e looks about as tough as Nigel’s fancy fookin’ hanky!” replied a scar-faced man nearby.

This set off a round of cackling laughter throughout the camp. Now fully awake, Corwin tried to take in as much detail as he could. It seemed like he was in the custody of these large men, in their campsite no less.

After the laughter had subsided, another man, evidently Nigel, piped up.

“Yeah, give it to a scar-faced bastard like yourself to not understand the finer points of wooing the womanfolk. It’s called being a gentlyman,”

“Yer a rot, Nigel! I may not have a way with the fairer sex, but I have enough of a way with words to know that it’s gentleman!”

Again, the teasing set off another round of laughs, mostly aimed at Nigel. He looked angry at first, but soon saw the funny side, and joined in on the merriment.

Corwin returned his focus to the situation at hand. Surprisingly, it seemed that he still had his spatha in the leg sheath, and the weight in his pouch seemed to indicate his also retained possession of his tal. However, his wrists were bound behind his back.

Finally, one of the group made his way over to Corwin- one that he recognised. It was the guard he had fought at the docks! Did he want revenge? Was that why he was tied up and left in the middle of the camp?

Seeing Corwin's obvious alarm, the man tried to smile calmingly.

"Hey, don't worry. We haven’t got you here to hurt you- nor are we going to have you over to anyone. We ain’t anything like the guards- are we, boys!?"

A rowdy cheer arose from the men at that proclamation.

That left Corwin confused. Who were these men, then? Why would they have even bothered to-were these men slavers?!

Seeing that his explanation had only brought Corwin more confusion, he sighed and sat down on a box of provisions nearby.

"Kid, I admire your quick mind, but I think you're going at it too fast. We ain’t anything more than mercenaries. Our contract was to that trading company that brought you over here- just to catch all the stowaways and send ‘em right back where they came from. I think they get a juicy reward from the local authorities for sending ‘mysteriosly escaped migrants’ back to Solum. "

Corwin snorted at that. Of course. They would take the bribe money given to them by the stowaways, and then receive the reward from the guards for ridding them of their migrants. Playing both sides to get all the money.

"Yeah, realising you got duped now? Don't feel too bad about it; everyone falls for it. We've been doing this for years- or at least whenever we’re in town."

Finally, Corwin worked up the courage to speak out.

"So what exactly am I here for? Why haven't I been sent back like the others?"

Winking at Corwin, the man answered.

"Why, it's because I saw some real potential in you, kid! Didn't hurt that you also asked for a job."

The wink clearly meant something, but for the life of him, Corwin couldn't think of what it could mean. Puzzled, he started to ask the man to clarify but was stopped with a hasty hand over his mouth.

"Oh, you need to take a whiz? Here, let me show you where we've set it out."

Yanking Corwin to his feet, he pulled a dagger from his belt and cut the binds wrapping his hand.

"Oy! You even need to teach this kid how to shite? What sort of prospects are we talking about here Keen- the ability to clean up after a dump?"

"Orin, I seem to remember that on your first day you spilled the cook's meal- and he gave you such a whoopin' that you couldn't sit down for the rest of the day! Everyone's got a day, heck, a week where they’re allowed to play the newbie." The man, obviously Keen, shouted back as he put a hand on Corwin's back and gently led him out of camp.

Once they were out of earshot of the camp, he turned and addressed Corwin.

“Kid- Hold up, I can’t keep calling you kid. What’s your name?”

“Uh... Corwin.”

“Right. You probably heard back there, my name is Keenan- call me Keen though. But, more importantly- holy heck kid! What did your parents teach you about your heritage?! More specifically, what did they tell you about keeping it a damn secret!”

Now he could see where Keen was going with this.

He obviously thought that Corwin was a child of The Alliance. Well, there wasn’t exactly any good reason as to why he should dissuade him of the belief. In addition, he didn’t know precisely how mixed-race children were viewed- but seeing the tension between the two countries didn’t inspire any hope for a good perception.

Thinking quickly, he came up with a plausible background.

"My dad… He passed away only a week ago. I never knew my mum…" He muttered, keeping his head down- and eyes away from Keen.

He had an uneasy feeling that if Keen got even the slightest hint, he'd figure it all out.

"That's shite, Corwin. But as shite as it is, you can't just be parading your nationality around! If not for yourself, do for the rest of us that are here! Having these folks know that we are among them, even if it's completely by the book, makes folks a little uneasy."

He should’ve guessed it from the moment that he started talking about heritage. Keen was clearly from the alliance.

Incorrectly interpreting his look as Corwin understanding his point, Keen pressed for more information.

"What sort of household where you brought up in, but didn't tell you to hide your identity, lad? Where did you grow up?"

Deciding that it was best to keep some semblance of the truth, he answered faithfully.

"I was brought up believing that I was from the Republic- dad didn't want me facing any more danger than was necessary. He told me just before he died, and now I'm on the run from the Army recruiters."

"Yer dad was a wise one, then. No sense in needlessly exposing you to the truth before you could do anything about it,"

Finding a conveniently sized stone, he gestured for Corwin to sit down.

"So, I gather that you know almost nothing about who you actually are," he surmised with a sigh.

"Apart from that I'm not from The Alliance, that's probably right."

"Well, your dad hasn't completely left your education to the wayside-you have some mean skills, don't get me wrong, but I suspect that your martial capabilities are all that you have. Would I be correct in saying that?"

It wasn't quite that way, after all, he could use Republic weaving- if only for about 5 seconds. But again, although the man seemed to want to help him, he didn’t think it was the smartest move to put all his cards on the table just yet.

"He did teach me how to use the Tal Stone, but I haven't quite figured out how to use it," he answered truthfully.

"I was just about to go into that! Hold your horses, lad! I don't count your Tal as your own power- as powerful as it seems to be. I don't suppose your daddy told you which school or sect you belong to?"

Seeing Corwin's head shaking, he groaned and continued.

"Of course he didn't, that would be too easy, wouldn't it, lad. Damn it all to ‘Rix!” Shaking his head, he muttered to himself.

Corwin let him work it all out, having no idea as to what Keen was talking about.

“Alright, Corwin. I’m going to offer you a choice- a choice, because you’re a fellow Alliance member, stuck here on this continent.” He looked seriously at Corwin to make sure that the weight of this decision wasn’t to be taken lightly.

Corwin nodded to show he was paying attention.

“I can give you some provisions and hand you off at the next town on our journey- with a recommendation for work in a tavern of sorts. I know the innkeeper, and he’ll look after you.”

He paused to let that sink in before continuing.

“Or, you can become my disciple of sorts. I certainly don’t have the qualifications to teach your unique sect’s skills, but I know enough to give you some additional survival capability. Not to mention, I can teach you about our country’s history and legacy. But if you take this option, there’s no leaving this mercenary group, at least until I deem you practised enough.”

There was no question which was the right option. It was a choice between living a quiet life- until someone else found out about his ‘disability’, or strengthing himself for the future. Corwin didn’t have any specific goal for the future, but he knew that an uneasy settling down wasn’t on the agenda.

“This disciple greets his master” he respectfully accepted, bowing.

“Although I may not be a perfect master, I will be treated with all the respect that this position affords. Not because I fancy being treated with respect, mind you, but because if you ever visit The Alliance and take a real master there, well…”

Keen groaned, recalling a painful memory. Corwin stifled the urge to laugh. He had a feeling that Keen wasn’t the model student that his master wanted him to be.

“Let’s just say that stepping even a toe over the line will result in harsh an unproportionate punishment.”

Breaking out of his recallings with a shiver, Keen refocused back to Corwin.

“Lad, we have to get our stories straight now. I’ve told the other boys that you came up to me and asked for a job, after seeing me catch some of the stowaways. Can you run with that?”

“I don’t think I’ll have a problem with that,”

“Great- Now you’re going to catch some ribbing from the other guys. It’s kind of their new initiate ‘welcoming’ that they do - just roll with it. I think that some of them think its a way to make friends, actually.”

He shook his head.

“Do what the important people ask of you- and by that, I mean only the cook, the head, and nobody else. Tell the rest of them to stuff it when they ask you to do things; otherwise, you’ll be stuck as a gofer for the foreseeable future. You ain’t going to be paid until you prove your worth at a task, but food and camp will be provided if you pull your weight around camp. Welcome to the Dragon’s Tail Mercenary Group, lad.”

Keen turned offered him a hand, then pulled Corwin to his feet.

Together they walked back to camp, Keen humming a tune, and Corwin trailing behind, trying to make sense of the massive change his life’s path had just taken.