He has some of his own.

"Why do you want that sigil and who hired you?" The Akkadian wastes no time, determined to be the inquisitor and not the one being examined.

Briefly taken back by the assassin's blunt question the chestnut haired thief freely answers. "Some witch that lives in this city."

"A sorceress?" The Akkadian exclaims.

Not knowing his backstory the thief misunderstands his concern. "Yes, I know, I usually don't work for those who practice the dark arts, but it was a simple break and enter job and the purse was very, very large. Besides, the challenge of Trimon's stronghold was far too tempting."

Holding up the sigil Naerwyn examines it. "The witch really wanted this back, though I will have to wait a bit before I return it." Noticing the inquisitive look on the Akkadian's face the thief explains. "She swore me to wait a day before I made my run, she prophesized there was going to be some commotion tonight involving Trimon and that I should wait at least a night. However, tomorrow night is the feast of the god Erlik, and his cult will be worshipping in the cemetery we just came from, so I decided to ignore her advice and go tonight."

"What does the sorceress want with the sigil?" The Akkadian asks realizing he was probably set up by that bitch.

"I have no idea. I know little of such things and it is never wise for a thief to question her employer too much."

The Akkadian realizes how much Naerwyn truly trusts him. A veteran thief would never so easily speak of the details of a current job unless it was with someone she was very close too. He also notes Naerwyn is oblivious to the little attempts of control he has been so concerned with, such as the ease in which she let him ask all the questions so far. Not sure if it is part of the curse of his new body, the assassin cannot help but to become reflective. He has bedded many a whore, and drank with many a warrior, but he has known few friends. Part of his soul thinks Naerwyn is a fool for so easily and completely trusting him, but another part, a growing part, holds great appreciation, even affection, for the kindnesses the beautiful thief has shown him.

Shaking his head, trying to clear these emotions that keep over taking him the Akkadian continues his questions. "When do you plan to return it?" The assassin asks as he begins to wonder if the sigil is now the best way for him to be changed back, since it could be used as a bargaining tool.

"Certainly not tomorrow, maybe the day or two after that." Looking at the assassin with caring in her stunning blue eyes Naerwyn asks. "Minaja, I am sorry that your vengeance against Trimon failed; though if he has been cursed by your dagger, that might be a sentence worse ****. Where will go now? Certainly the guild will put a **** sentence out on you now."

Naerwyn's question is logical, but one the assassin hadn't thought about. Has the sorceress already put a contract out on him? Though the witch does have a sick and twisted sense of humor, she always has a reason for her actions, which are usually evil. A sinking feeling comes on his stomach as he begins to realize the depth of the witch's betrayal and that he might be stuck in this accursed body for a much longer time. With a frown showing deep in his forehead he ponders whether he should go to see the sorceress immediately, or not at all.

Sensing his concern Naerwyn embraces the assassin. Running her hand gently down his cheek she reassures him. "Minaja, come with me. I will protect you." With that she slowly moves her lips to his and kisses him long and lovingly.

"I will travel with you." The Akkadian announces. "But as a partner."

"Of course." Naerwyn smiles with that look of amusement she gets thinking how cute Minaja is when she tries to act brave. "I have a question for you, partner.?" Saying that word with a giggle. "What was that dagger you had, and where did you get it?"

The Akkadian thinks hard about this question. Should he reveal everything to Naerwyn? Yet how will she react to fact that he is really a man? Besides would the thief part with the sigil and forego the coin promised her in order to change him back? His ever suspicious assassin's mind wins the day and he lies. "I was approached by one of the guild's patrons who knew of my dislike for Trimon and he sold it to me."

"Do you think the witch was behind it?" Naerwyn asks.

"I don?t know. Why do you ask?" The Akkadian retorts, pleased with his friend's agile mind.

"It would explain a good many things." Naerwyn ponders. "The witch tricked you into enchanting the warlord, then I come by the next day and steal the sigil while Trimon was gone."

The assassin agrees with the rogue's logic. It makes sense, but why didn't the sorceress simply ask him to steal the sigil after he had used the enchanted dagger on Trimon? "What is that witch up to?" He ponders

"I know someone who is a scholar of magic." Naerwyn offers. "We can visit him tomorrow and inquire about these things. But as for now we should travel to a safe tavern I know, and we can get some rest there. Let's change and . . . oh." Naerwyn stops in mid-sentence with a smile.

"What?" The Akkadian asks, always concerned when his compatriot gets that mischievous grin.

"Well I only have one change of clothing here." Naerwyn runs her finger down the assassin's bare breast stopping at his nipple. "And though I like you naked, it is hardly the best traveling option, even for a whore in disguise."

Though of course the Akkadian enjoys the romantic attention of such a beautiful woman as Naerwyn, he is ill-at-ease by which she so naturally assumes the masculine role in the relationship and him the feminine.

"Then you will have to go as a whore." The assassin commands.

Laughing at what she takes as a joke, Naerwyn begins to take off her dark blue skimpy top and thong. "Seriously, you can wear my undergarments that I used as a disguise until we get to the tavern, there I will find you something decent to wear."

The naked thief gives the Akkadian her undergarments and slippers. As has become his lot, he has mixed emotions; anger at the fact he has once again been **** into the submissive feminine role, and lust at the sight of the once again naked body of the shapely rogue.

Though not accustomed to wearing women's clothing, the Akkadian finishes dressing first, since he has much less to put on. Giving up her undergarments to the assassin, Naerwyn takes off the stolen jewelry she took from Trimon's chamber and puts them in a shoulder satchel along with the sigil. Next she produces a suit of tailor made brown light leather armor from a nearby chest. After slipping on the tight pants she pulls on a pair of knee high soft boots. Next a tight sleeveless tunic is button on, which leaves bare part of her midriff while showing some cleavage. Taking a well-worn sword belt she straps it on as the buccaneers do from the Barachan isles, with a parrying dagger on the left hip and a rapier like sword in the back. Lastly, Naerwyn rewraps the crimson cords that go on her forearms. The pattern is artistic and also ingenious, allowing her to unwrap each cord with a single hand, and very quickly if needed.

Having a fine eye for weaponry the assassin notes the high quality of her sword and dagger. The parrying dagger is a bit longer than usual and balanced for throwing. Naerwyn's sword is a make he has never seen before, a hybrid of a fencing rapier and an eastern saber. It is a thin blade of medium length, if not a bit on the short side. It is mostly straight with a slight curve and is sharp on but one side. Though it could easily be wielded with one hand, its handle has no pommel and has more than enough space for two hands. After concealing various throwing daggers throughout her body she straightens up with a smile. "Now that feels much better."

The Akkadian looks her over, she is both attractive and dangerous looking, a combination that pleases him. "I need to be armed also." The assassin demands.

Again, that infuriating grin comes across Naerwyn's face. Nothing is more troubling for one of the lands most deadly assassins to be thought of as being cute. The thief produces a small, light dagger, fit for a lady, and gives it to the Akkadian. He cannot help but think that the gods are laughing at him, as this weapon is symbolic of his lack of manhood.

"One more thing." Naerwyn takes one final item from the chest. "This is one of my most prized belongings; it has brought me much luck over the years and was a gift from the goddess herself. I usually wear it because it gives the illusion of being a man, but you will need it more than I for the time being. Please keep it safe." The Akkadian is greatly intrigued about what magic this might be, especially if it would help him at all look more masculine.

Taking a beautiful dark green cloak from the chest, Naerwyn puts it over the assassin. Though a bit long for his new body, its fabric falls in such a way that that with a quick glance, no one would notice if the wearer was a female, even with someone as curvy and buxom as the assassin or the thief. Looking at the material the Akkadian wonders how such thick and sturdy material that looks like a well-made winter cloak can feel like the weight of a summer shawl. Beautiful black embroidering is only noticeable with a very close inspection; it is an artistic in elaborate pattern that runs the whole edge of the cloak. Naerwyn puts up its hood to finish the disguise. Because of her description the Akkadain first thought the item would be magic of nature, now he is not sure. Either this cloak is of some lesser enchantment, or just exquisitely made.

Looking the assassin over Naerwyn smiles. "Let's get to the tavern. It is very late and you must be tired."