Isa grimaced as the man's arm formed a barrier before him and, more horribly, touched his shoulder. The prentice returned the soldier's glare.

"What do you think you're doing, boy?" the older man asked, quite indignantly -- as if the average citizen didn't just waltz into the barracks. Well... maybe the average Joescovan didn't. How was Isa supposed to know these things? "Why are you here?"

"I'm here to visit a friend," the young man simply replied.

The guard looked at him in disbelief for a moment, then burst into the most embarrassing fit of laughter Isa was to ever witness. Another three or four heads turned to find the cause of the sudden gaiety.

"Visit a friend! Ha! What do you think this is? -- a tavern? Ha! Ho! Ho! Haw! Haw!" laughed one of the witnesses. All the while, Isa was turning redder.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" asked a particularly brawny individual, with a singularly thin and long nose, high cheeks and an almost squeaky voice. "You must be lost."

Between the jeers, Isa passionately answered: "Isa Karun! And I'm not bloody lost!"

While the other men laughed, the long-nosed fellow and the guards exchanged meaningful looks. Finally, the former raised a hand and the other two stopped. "You don't happen to be related to-"

But Isa was already ahead of him.

"Captain Levan Karun, my uncle. Very related," he coldly cut the other off.

While the guard frowned, the long nosed man grinned. "How is the old pup? Still licking his milk?"

Without the slightest air of confusion, and quite organically, Isa mirrored the stranger's smile. "Still."

"Pffft! Ever heard of a man that doesn't drink, boys?" amusedly asked the man. The other two rolled their eyes on cue.

"Ain't a man," declared one of the two.

"Ohoho! I wouldn't say that, Mark. Bastard gave me one helluva 'permanent reminder' when I last said that," replied the long-nosed man, pulling up his rough sleeve and revealing a scar which crawled his skin from wrist to elbow. "Ain't never gonna forget that one!" And he laughed, and Isa gave a sympathetic snort, accompanied by the others. "But, believe you me, that man's a damn good soul to have marching you around! If you learn to forget about his... drinking problem, he's an alright friend, too!" continued he.

Sergeant Attyla Po then proceeded to explain the circumstances in which he and Isa's uncle met, and the evolution of their friendship. The two has served together as boys and new recruits in those very barracks. They had got along impeccably until the aforementioned milk incident. During one of their training exercises, Attyla had made a joke about the now-Captain's drinking habits and going himself with a torn arm. It had been so impeccably done that even the overseeing Sergeant at the time -- "old Falco" -- couldn't find fault.

The two had been friends ever since, especially after they were transferred to Kyha, and even after Attyla was transferred back, on his request.

It took Isa quite a bit of internal strength to stop himself from grimacing and considerably more moral fibre to act absolutely delighted at hearing the Sergeant's reminiscences. He managed it well, in the end.

"So who're you here to see, Isa?" asked Attyla.

"A fellow named Welkin."

"Pfft! The refugee freak?" interrupted the guard. "That don't sound like a Karun to me!"

"It's purely business," Isa said, raising his free arm in false defence and hating himself like never before.

"What? He owes you money? I'll sort him out-"

"I'd like to handle my own problems, sir," Isa snapped, frowning.

The man returned his stern look, but said: "Sure, kid, sure. Go on in."

"I'll show him 'round. Would love to hear more 'bout old Lev," Attyla volunteered, much to Isa's excitement -- or lack thereof. Nonetheless, he followed the Sergeant. His eyes travelled to this object and that, this sight or the other, for Isa had never seen the inside of a military place before.

"So what happened to your arm?" asked the Sergeant, gesturing to the sling that kept Isa's left arm tucked to his body. It was impossible to see the bandages that had been wrapped over his shoulder under his clothes, so Isa found it easiest to lie.

"Horrible sprain. Did you know you could sprain your elbow? Never heard of it."

After this word and that and paramount effort from Isa not to swear out loud at the very mention of his uncle, he was brought to the bed bunks. Isa was told that soldiers of Wekin's 'lowly' rank shared quarters. So they boy walked in the large room together and, before Isa could say or do anything, Attyla yelled: "Njordson! Come up here, you dirty rat!"

---

OOC: Would you believe I wrote almost all of this on my phone, while on the train? XD

Welkin sat on the edge of his bed polishing his unstrung bow. Everyone around ignored him, even the few almost-friends he'd been starting to make. His mood was dark, and had been ever since the riot.

He wondered how hard it would be to just leave. No one thought of him much anymore, he'd been there so long and kept quiet. It would probably be pretty easy to just pack up and sneak out. No one would even care he'd gone.

But where would he go?

He flinched at the sound of his name and looked over his shoulder with a frown. It cleared into confusion when he saw Isa.

"Isa?" he said. Then he frowned again and put his bow on his bed and stood up. "What happened to you?"

"A lovely story, for a later time," Isa happily said, then changed his tone to something more serious. "We have something to discuss first," he added, pulling Welkin next to him with his free arm and adding, almost imperceptibly, "Play along..."

"If you need me to sort him out for you, Isa, I'll--"

"Thanks, Sergeant Po! I think I'm fine." And with that, he tried to pull Welkin away.

Welkin frowned at the sergeant, then at Isa. "What's he mean, sort me out? I haven't done anything."

Still, he followed Isa without hesitation.

"Oh my god! Shut up!" Isa hissed. He turned his head to give Attyla an amused eyeroll and a shrug, only to see the large man stiffening and glaring daggers at Welkin's back. Awesome.

"You really don't know how to make friends, do you?" asked Isa, a bit annoyed.

"You're surprised?" Welkin grumbled. "What're you doing here anyway?"

"I came to see you. Although... technically... you owe me money, so I came to make deathly threats. Do pretend it's working... you're ruining my glorious reputation!"

"Reputation for what?" Welkin headed back to his bunk, where he kept his money stashed.

"Heck if I know. They're basing me off my uncle. As if!" And Isa made a rude gesture at that, and cursed. He knew he could afford it now, for it would please the Sergeant. Isa critically looked at the bunk Welkin stopped before. "Is this where you sleep?"

Really, he shouldn't have judged Welkin. He slept on a thin bed of straw, often lacking a pillow and with only a couple of blankets to keep him warm. At least the other bodies in the room provided some much-needed ambient temperature.

"I sleep where they put me," Welkin said. "I've slept on worse." He reached under his bed and pulled out a small wooden casket. It had no key, but used a combination lock to keep it secure. It was magically spelled so it wouldn't break or burn, and had been one of Welkin's first purchases, however expensive it'd been. He knew a thing or two about chests.

He hunched over the casket to flip the switches and dials. "Who's your uncle?" he asked as the casket popped open.

"A creep and a jerk and I'd rather not talk about him. I've talked about him enough for the next decade today, so I'd rather not overdo it," Isa half-growled and scowled. "What are you doing?"

"Getting your money." He sat on the bed with the open casket on his knees and a small pouch in his hands. "How much do I owe you?" Then he looked at Isa with narrowed eyes. "Where's the dagger?"

"Money?" Isa asked, confusedly, and then rolled his eyes. "Oh my gods... Seriously, I was just going along with whatever old Attyla over there wanted to believe. I haven't finished the dagger yet." He put two fingers, gingerly, on his suspended arm. That particular injury had slowed production considerably, much to Isa's and -- far more importantly -- Tobalt's eternal grief.

"Been slightly... inconvenienced. But pretend you give me some anyway, and let's get out here. Are you allowed to go, or am I talking your way out?" And by that, of course, Isa meant he'd lie their way out. He was most determined to profit as much as possible from his uncle's name, without his uncle's knowing, on the one hand, while feeling disgusted by his endeavours on the other.

Welkin frowned and pretended to put a few coins in Isa's hand, then locked away his money and hid the chest under his bed again.

"Why the pretense?" he said. "And yeah, I'm allowed to go. No patrols for me tonight and training is done." He stood again, not exactly liking the way Isa had lied earlier. "So, let's go."

"Awesome. This place is getting on my damn nerves."

So he stomped right out of the bunks, not without giving Sergeant Po a wry grin.

When they were well out of earshot, Isa framed a reverent "by Tristella!" with a couple of saucy expletives.

Welkin frowned, almost in fear, at Isa's outburst.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he snapped.

"What? I can't swear?" He looked at Welkin strangely. "I thought pirates were all about swearing."

"You're just acting really funny. Why did you come by?" He pointed at Isa's arm again. "And what happened to you?"

"I got a tiny bit stabbed," he casually answered. "Riot treated me good."

The frown on Welkin's face dropped to concern. "You were caught in the riot? How?"

Isa shrugged. "Happened. What is important is that I can't do work worth a shit, so Tobalt's kicked me out for the afternoon, saying I'm getting too restless and I need to go find me something to do." The boy sighed at that, his cheery disposition suddenly slipping.

"So... yeah... Thought I'd see how you were."

Welkin looked at the arm again, brows knotted in concern. "I'm fine. I got caught in the riot too, but I didn't get hurt." He shifted his weight. "Well, I didn't get stabbed. I fell off a building though. That kind of hurt."

Isa laughed. "Fell of a building?! What in the Seer's name were you doing?"

Because, of course, who in their right mind would ever scale buildings?

Welkin flushed at the laughter. "I got lost and climbed up to see how to get out. Then I fell. Luckily I landed on someone, but he was a refugee, so I had to get rid of my uniform and help him to his damn house. Killed some guys to do it and he looks at me like I'm insane."

"Uh... what?"

Welkin frowned at Isa all over again. "What do you mean, what? That's what happened. I got the guy to his house and he told me to leave so I did."

"No... you killed people? For a refugee."

Welkin grunted. "Oh. Well they recognized that I was a soldier. I'd run into one of them before. They were going to attack us, but they scattered after I killed a few of them."

"Huh."

Isa made to scratch his nose. with his left hand, felt his whole back and left arm flood with hot-white pain, and let out a good few curses as a result.

"Remind me to tie my wrist to my body," he weakly said.

Welkin scratched his head, brows creased in worry. "What were you doing in the Quarter anyway?"

"Went to check on... a friend. More importantly... what were you doing there? I thought you wanted nothing to do with it and its inhabitants."

Welkin tucked his hands into his pockets. "I told you, I go where they send me."

"Okay, okay..." He, too, thrust his free hand in his pocket and started whistling to break the silence. Of course, he was wonderfully tone-deaf.

Welkin glanced over his shoulder at Atylla. "What's with him anyway? Why's he mad at me?"

Isa stared at Welkin. "This is the first time I've met him. How should I know?" He shook his head and walked on, a bit faster. Welkin's question reminded him of his feeble position.

Welkin followed him. "Well, he's never friendly, but that was just sort of odd. Why did he say he'd sort me out? Why did you say to 'play along'?"

"Oh, I pretended to want to 'sort business' with you. He assumed you owed me money and I really didn't care to correct him," the young man said, shrugging.

"Why did you pretend that?"

"Because they were being smart arses and weren't allowing 'courtesy calls'! What?" snapped Isa.

Welkin tried hard not to scowl. "Nothing. Just....nothing." He shrugged and sighed. "I dunno, I've been feeling weird lately."