The Drin gladly took the mug and took a long pull from it, though she nearly sprayed her companion when Jesi asked how she came to be a Drin. It was bad enough that Analise seemed so insistent, but to tell the story of her more or less literally landing at the feet of the Master of Training. Managing to swallow the sickly sweet mead, Paks let go a soft laugh, “You’ve not heard the tale of how I landed in the Yards?”
She tilted her head, “Not even through rumors and gossip?”
Jesi shrugged, and Paks laughed softly once more before taking another, longer pull from her mug. “Well. . .the story of me signing the roster of the Grey Tower Warder Yards is a tale that could be told by the best bards of the land, and they wouldn’t get it right for not having lived it. It is a comedy mixed with tragedy mixed with more comedy. I dare say you might think that much less of me once you’ve heard the tale. Are you sure you want to know?” All of this was said with a slight, though not over the top, dramatic flare of one used to spinning tales.
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know,” Jesi replied, matching Paks smirk for smirk.
Paks sat back in her chair, setting both hands on the table as she held Jesi’s gaze, “Very well. When my father decided I was not worthy to be his apprentice, I decided to forge my own path, and left home for adventure. You may think I went right to the Tower, but you would be mistaken.
“You see, I came across a group of traveling musicians and storytellers. They weren’t exactly Gleemen, but they would travel Mayene, going from town to village to hamlet, and earn their keep entertaining patrons at inns. Often trading their skills to entertain for room and board and not much more, but sometimes. . .sometimes the Dark One’s Luck would shine on them and they’d find themselves a well paying contract to tide them over for a time. It was on one of these that our paths crossed, as they were the entertainment for the winter months at an inn in a village I happened upon.
“What coin I had was quickly dwindling, and I found this band of rogues to be fun and entertaining, and they figured I was as well, as they asked me to join their numbers. It is through them I learned to spin a tale, or sing a song or two, and it is through them that I got into more trouble as an adult than I care to admit, though I regret none of it,” she paused to take a sip of her drink and flashed Jesi a smirk.
“Over the next couple of years, I learned their ways. They were a harmless lot, for the most part, though one or two might pick a pocket here and there. . .they never asked me to do such dirty deeds, as it never sat well with me,” Paks confessed. “You may or may not be aware that such traveling troupes sometimes attract. . .admirers. Some of those admirers were quite forward, and I learned being a part of the troupe could mean sharing the bed of some lass or the occasional lad
“It became a bit of a game, at times, and one I was apparently quite good at,” Paks admitted, realizing she was revealing a great deal more about herself than she intended. “We found ourselves in a village working for the one inn in the place. It just so happened a magistrate was there with his young wife. I do not lie when I say he could have been her father. He paid no attention to her, except when it suited him, and it rarely suited him,” she continued.
Paks let go a soft laugh as she paused to take another sip of her mead, “The wife was gorgeous, and I couldn’t help myself. I flirted with her as we entertained, and that flirtation carried over when we might both be in the common room and her husband was elsewhere. One thing led to another, and I found myself in her bed. Unfortunately, so did the Magistrate, well. . .sort of. He found us taking a bath together.”
The Drin laughed softly, “I launched myself from the bath, and through the nearby window. I streaked across town to the nearby woods. Some of my troupe had been outside and seen all this unfold, and very nearly died of laughter. The Magistrate did not find it nearly so humorous and put a price on my head. There’d been thefts in the area, and I think he intended to pin them on me.
“I was not deterred, though, and returned to their room when I knew he was out, but I was dressed as an old woman. No one could recognize me for who I was, not even her until I kissed her. She pulled me to her room without a second thought. Sadly, the Magistrate no longer trusted his wife and I was caught in his little trap,” she said with a shrug. “I was brought to trial and given a choice. I could go to jail or I could go to the Tower. When I was told what the Warder Yards were about, I picked jail, figuring I’d be a free woman faster. . . he decided jail was too good for me and sent me here.
“So here I am, and here I stay until I earn the bloody fancloak, or die trying. If I leave, or get tossed and step foot in Mayene, I will be sent directly to jail. . .if caught,” she said before taking in and letting go a deep breath. “And that is my story. I . . .am a rogue. Loveable, but still a rogue,” she finished with a smirk before she drained the rest of her mug. “Think less of me yet?”