Setting: SouthHarbor Road: Tar Valon, Tar Valon
There is a distinct difference of structure in this area, almost as if it were man made instead of Ogier. Inns and merchant houses are decorated with statues, niches, and friezes in an attempt to imitate the original stone masons. The roads are paved in cobblestone instead of the large smooth paving blocks of the main city, depicting this area to be newer, even if by thousands of years, than the rest of the city.
A slight chill still remains from the winter season, however its easily forgotten with the blooming flowers and the singing birds of spring. Street lamps light the way, making travel at night safer for those who deem it necessary to be out so late. Darkness covers the sky and an echo of a Tar Valon Guard patrol can be heard in the streets.
Large white gates loom before you to the northwest, leading into the Courtyard of the White Tower. The path that leads to Osendrelle Square lies to the north. Waterman's Plaza can be found by traveling south on the wide stretch of road.

Occupants: Mirla, Morden, Saralae

Morden says "You're not suffering from it now are you?"

"I don't /think/ sho." Mirla offers. She frowns, and then pouts. "Am I?"

Morden steps back for a moment and looks Mirla over appreciatively

Severan glides down the street, heading towards Will's Tavern. He pauses momentarily as he sees the obviously inebriated young woman.

Morden says "No dear, you're doing just fine. You remember my last question?"

Mirla giggles. "Yes. You asked if tha cat had my tongue!" She looks triumphant, as if the first to answer the teacher's question at school.

Saralae watches with an amused, yet bitter look on her face.

"I think I should go home. I'm too drunk." Mirla pushes herself off the wagon again, then peers at it. "Can't leave thish here." she frowns as if this is a huge great question.

Severan moves towards Morden as he recognizes his shape in the darkness. He moves close behind him, making sure to be a little noisy about it, and mutters something inaudible to him.

Severan mutters to Morden, "Little... fun... her,..."

You whisper "Little too much fun for her, tonight?" to Morden.

Morden says "Go home dear? Why would you want to do that?"

Mirla blinks confusedly at Morden.

Morden whispers "Oh my friend, I"

Morden whispers "I'm just getting started. Care to help?"

Morden smiles and says something quietly back to Severan

Mirla shakes her head, trying to clear it, putting a hand up to it. "Schmart." she mumbles.

Morden says "The night is young Mirla, you don't want to go to bed now do you? And miss out? It is not until the night that the city becomes alive...till it becomes perfect for a woman like you"

Severan chuckles at a whisper from Morden, and speaks quietly back.

You whisper "What exactly do you have in mind?" to Morden.

"Alive. Perfect." Mirla agrees dreamily.

Morden smirks at Severan...he's so young but even he should be able to see it. His response to him is simple. "Everything."

Mirla says "Everything?"

Morden looks back to Mirla taking a wisp of her hair and brushing it aside to frame her face in a way that can't usually be done. "I was talking to Severan dear Mirla."

Severan arcs a brow, glancing to the drunk young lady and then back to Morden. "I see."

Mirla smiles and sighs. "Oh."

Morden says "Dear, I know from experience that the worst possible vice one can have is advice, but all the same, do you mind me making a suggestion?"

Mirla scowls. "I know. Don't get sho drunk. I don't normally."

Mirla puts out a hand to catch herself on the wagon again as she continues to weave.

Morden smiles and shakes his head. "Oh no dear, nothing at all the matter with getting drunk with just throwing it all to the wind and letting life carry you along once and a while. We all do it. I was going to ask you why you wear your hair the way you do."

Severan watches in silence, his eyes dark and considering.

Mirla lifts a hand to her ponytail. "Sho it won't get in the way when I haveta fight."

Morden moves back around behind Mirla once again seeming to fade into the darkness behind her.

Morden says "Oh I see...you have to fight a lot then?"

Saralae seems to be getting more and more disgruntled, and less amused, with each second. But it is an introverted disgruntlement seemingly with little or nothing to do with this.

Mirla rubs at her forehead, frowning. Senseing on one level that she's really about to have problems and on every other level not caring. "Sometimes."

Severan glances towards Saralae as he picks her out of the shadows. He looks at her curiously for a moment, then back to the other two, although half his attention seems to remain on the fur-clothed woman in the darkness.

Morden would her poor Saralae put that all behind her if he were not so intent on Mirla. There's not a problem in the world he doesn't know a way to solve.

Morden says "Why would such a diamond like yourself need to get what she wants with her fists? Or at the blunt end of a knife?"

Saralae takes out a flask, hurriedly washing her hands clean with the water, and lets out a heavy sigh.

Mirla blinks in the darkness blearily. "Can't talk or flirt yer way outta everything."

Tamarind walks onto SouthHarbor Road, coming from the northwestern gates of the White Tower, watched carefully by the Tower Guard.

Morden says "When you could have EVERYTHING you wanted so much more easily."

Morden frowns ever so slightly. He can smell it when one of those women comes around, he doesn't need to see her.

Severan stands in the middle of the road, watching Morden and Mirla darkly. He glances towards Saralae occasionally, examining her discretely.

Mirla takes a few steps forward and then stumbles, and tries to catch herself on the wagon again, this time missing, going to her knees on the ground. "No," she mums. "This is..." she frowns and tries to shake off the drunken haze again. "This isn't...everything, huh?"

Morden smiles that oh so subtle smile. Not something many can see through the darkness as he kneels down next to her. "Oh dear Mirla, you haven't even seen the mearest fraction of "everything"

Mirla tries for a rougish grin; it comes out a dopey smile. "I've seen quite abit."

A shadowy figure slips itself through the gate of the White Tower.. no fanfare attached, no sound of soft steps.. not even the chatter of metal where a weapon winks in sheath at its hip.. Her hip, for such slender grace can only be embodied in a woman's frame. The cloak which tugs at calf and hoods her face gives nothing away of her identity.. which seems nothing to note here in the night and its dark. She glides to a place along the street as if waiting for something, and eyes glitter where they cannot be seen as she takes in with a glance her surroundings.. and what takes place within them.

Jhyn'na walks onto SouthHarbor Road, coming from the northwestern gates of the White Tower, watched carefully by the Tower Guard.

Morden rubs her shoulders. He has been waiting for this opportunity with Mirla, to catch her with her guard down. "Oh yes dear you have seen thing most people can't even fathom, but there's so much more to be had for those willing to reach out and take. You want to take don't you?

Mirla sighs, relaxing into the massage. "Mmmhmm," she mumbles.

Eyes shifting with wildly varying emotions, Severan looks about to move towards Mirla and Morden when he notices the wraith-like movement of the newcomer. He stops, for some reason suddenly content to remain where he is.

Morden says "You want me to give you a peak dear? I will if you ask me to, but you have to ask."

Tamarind does nothing overt, not so much as reveal who.. or perhaps what she truly is beneath the encompassing sable mass of her finely made, if plain lined, cloak. Finding a lovely patch of relatively impenetrable shadow beneath a tree which has been permitted to remain at one side of the street.. she all but disappears into the night. Though, her hooded face remains turned toward the commotion.

Jhyn'na steps along from a similar direction as a shadowy figure, eyes narrowed as she attempts to keep abreast of the curiosity. Her skirts, unfortunately, were not meant for stealth, but she moves along with as little sound as she can, some distance behind

Saralae watches in anguish, trying to hide the emotions she is feeling from her face. Good thing that she is somewhat in shadow...

Mirla blinks, that one single part of her still aware of danger trying to take back over. But to no avail. She bobs her head up and down, then remembers foggily that she's s'posed to ask. "Will ya show me?"

Morden smells another one of them. There's just something about trying to enjoy himself in the presence of a crowd which bothers him. It would seem his hypocricy knows no bounds as he himself is a natural vouyer.

Severan's eyes suddenly flash; something in him snaps. He strides smoothly towards Mirla and Morden. He whispers something to Morden as he reaches the pair; what can be heard of his tone does not sound comforting.

Mirla looks at the crowd, rather confused. "T'much ta drink," she murmurs again.

You whisper "I have no quarrel with you, Morden, but taking advantage of her like this..." to Morden.

Morden smiles and nods as he gets to his feet, offering a firm hand to the unsteady woman who will soon be all his.

"T'much," Mirla repeats, and takes the hand.

Morden smiles at Severan. "I'm taking advantage of no one my young entertaining friend. She wants to see the world with unrestrained eyes. We all do. She should count herself lucky that she has someone to show her."

Still, Tamarind needs not reveal herself.. or her purposes for trodding night clad streets in stealthy silence.. and alone. For no one is complaining, no one shouts for aid.. no one does anything that the evening crowds do not readily see. No reason yet to ruin a cover she's worked to keep..

Morden once again extends the hand to Mirla

Severan smirks back at Morden, but the smile does not touch his eyes. "Light burn you, she's not thinking straight. If she were, I'd leave right now, but as it is..." He pauses, and then continues, his tone firming and his voice suddenly carrying. "I cannot let you do this."

Jhyn'na pauses in her strides, silently muttering a curse at her ill prepared attire for satisfying her curiosity in the dark of night. Instinctively, she has stuck to the shadows to better carry on her surveillance, casting a nervous glance at the various people

Mirla frowns and grabs for the hand again. She seems to have missed the first time...

Morden makes sure she doesn't miss this time. He's much stronger then he looks, easily helping her to her feet.

Morden says "You think I'm taking advantage of someone my young entertaining friend?"

Severan's smirk fades. "Yes."

Morden smiles that ever so subtle smile. "How long have you been an entertainer?"

Mirla holds on to Morden's hand as she weaves back and forth, looking confusedly at all of the faces, trying to place them.

Morden produces a small pill box and hands it matter of factly to Mirla. "Take one if you want. It will help your head.'

Severan's face becomes ice; strangely, right now that ice looks to be on fire. His eyes still flash, but his voice is calm. "Seven years. And you since before I was born. That does not change what you are doing, even if you have done it before."

Mirla frowns at the pillbox. She opens it and tries to identify what's inside.

Severan's hand flies smoothly towards Mirla's, attempting to knock away the pill box.

Mirla is in no position to resist, she watches as it goes flying and pills spill out everywhere. She looks at it mournfully.

Severan looks towards Morden. "Rest will cure her."

Morden laughs. "No my friend it has absolutely nothing to do with my proposed outting with Mirla here who in her own right is by no means a saint. It has everything to do with taking advantage of people though. I wonder if it has ever occurred to you that you and every other member of our profession do much the same?"

Pills.. arguments.. drunkenness.. all things the streets see at any given time during the day even. Yet here, in the open sight of the Tower's gleaming walls, it is too much to be tolerated, she thinks. Yes, she, for the figure that had settled itself in the pool of absolute darkness now glides forth again in surprising silence and stealth.. coming to pause in the mouth of an alley no more than five yards from where the three main players stand and argue.

Mirla blinks again and again, attempting to clear her head with absolutely no sucess. "Need to go home," she mumbles.

Severan shakes his head. "Not like this. You believe we take advantage of those we entertain? Perhaps we do, but not when they're out of their wits." He offers Mirla a hand. "Allow me to help you."

Morden sighs "And so it seems you shall my dear, as it would seem this man here before us has better plans for you than any I could make.

Morden smirks and supposes Severan has a few more years yet to go.

Mirla lets go of Morden's hand and looks at Severan's hand and then staggers a few paces away from both of them, too confused and groggy-minded to care.

In her own shadows, Jhyn'na's face clears somewhat when she spots a hint of movement; she had lost sight of her quarry some moments before to her frustration. Luckily, she has just stopped herself from giving up the chase and making her way back to her home - it is late.

For a moment, the masks crack, and hesitation and confusion register on Severan's face. They quickly mend, and his face is once again calm. He still holds his hand out to Mirla. "Perhaps some other time, Morden, when she'll remember what she's done."

Morden looks to Mirla wondering which side of her will win out.

And that's the problem, isn't it? Mirla is a woman of two sides, constantly fighting against one another. She looks from man to man, lets out a soft groan, and half-staggers, half-runs now, down a random street, not looking back to see who follows.

Morden says "Oh she will remember just fine, knowing that such opportunities...don't come to very many people, and to those that do certainly...not very often."

Mirla branches off to the southeast, heading for Wateran's Plaza.

Severan moves quickly after Mirla.

It comes from the alley's mouth, or seems to.. that rich voice, soft with subtle undertones of a held power that needs not be displayed to make itself quite well known. "I think you should let her find another escort to bring her home." Then.. Mirla is gone, and it matters not for the moment.

[Scene changes to Waterman's Plaza: Southharbor, Tar Valon]

Severan moves quickly to catch up with Mirla. "Miss! Wait!"

Mirla mumbles, "Sunami. Mirla Sunami." She comes to a stop, looking sick.

Despite his mood, for some reason this strikes Severan funny. He chuckles for a moment. "Severan. Severan Kaiz." He moves to steady Mirla. "Can you tell me where you live, Mirla?"

Mirla looks greatful for the steadying. "Thish way."

[Moving on to Mirla's Flat, Tar Valon]

Severan helps Mirla in the door as they enter her flat. He looks about for a moment, taking the room in, then helps Mirla slowly towards the bed.

Mirla slumps into the bed. "Thanksh." she mutters, closing her eyes.

Severan chuckles and smiles sadly as he looks at Mirla. He seats himself in a wooden chair next to the bed. Slowly, softly, he begins to sing.

It doesn't take long. Mirla almost immediately drops into a heavy slumber. Asleep, she looks even smaller, vulnerable, childlike.

Severan's voice is a rich baritone, and although soft, his words seem to carry throughout the room. "Over a hill is a place where I go... Where I go, fleeing troubles unknown..."

Mirla mumbles in her sleep.

Mirla mutters to herself, "I'm... somebody,... nobody gonna push MIrla around."

Severan continues singing, smiling as she falls into slumber. The tune of his song is comforting, but the words seem a little strange. "I hide in the shadows, and sleep until dawn... Knowing that I'm not alone..." He stops singing for a moment, his hand moving to softly smooth back her hair. He speaks softly. "Yes you are, Mirla... shh... you're alright..."

Mirla seems comforted by his words and song, she settles into a deeper slumber, her chest rising and falling, mumbling no more.

Severan smiles, and continues singing for a little. He makes sure that Mirla's head is comfortable on the pillow, and covers her with the quilts.

Mirla smiles slightly in her sleep and rolls over.

Severan looks out the window, seeing the darkness of night beginning to slowly fade into dawn. He yawns suddenly, realizing how tired he is, as well.