“Sir Tengille?” The dark haired youth called, as she made their way through the fort. An older man with dark hair and tired eyes turned towards him, alongside a younger man and a few women. From the way they were all looking at him, Alex feared they would know that she had spent the last couple months in Ordallia, traveling from bar to bar, accumulating gil performing for the enemy. Of course, Ardaric, her mentor, had explained that they were really there to serve as eyes and ears for Ivalice, but did they know this? No, she was being absurd. All she had to do was hand over Ardaric’s letter, and they would accept him as loyal to the Ivalician cause.<br/><br/>“Can I help you?” the older knight asked, eying him with a stone face. Alex didn’t speak, just handed over the letter. Folmalv read the letter , before showing it off to the younger knight at his side, and two of the women gathered with him. “So you are the Silver String’s apprentice.”<br/><br/>“That is correct, sir.” Alex wringed her hands, while she awaited the man’s appraisal of him.<br/><br/>“You have brought us valuable intel. Mistress Avelia, do you think our apprentices are up to this task?” Tengille asked, showing her the letter. She made a show of considering it.<br/><br/>“With just four of them, their chances of success are less than five percent,” she explained as she shook her head, “However, with just two more members, and the odds increase to fifty five percent. With eight members, they reach odds of seventy five percent. Any more than that the odds start going down again, as the chance of being caught before the mission even begins increase.”<br/><br/>“Well then, let’s see if we can’t improve their odds some.”<br/><br/><hr class="bbc-hr bbc-hr--3"/><br/><br/>Lydalia was the first up that morning. Aside from Imos who had taken the last watch, or course. She packed her supplies and loaded them onto her chocobo before taking a moment to eat breakfast. There was silence for a moment, as Lydalia wrack her brain to find some common ground with which to converse with Imos. There couldn’t be more separating them, and yet here they were, sharing the same camp and fighting the same battles.<br/><br/>“We hadn’t a chance to talk last night, but I agree with you. Leaving my life to fate and the will of others would never fulfill me. If there isn’t hope to change our station, what point is there?” She lifted her waterskin to him, offering a mock toast, “To forging our own destiny, eh Imos?”