This is probably the best place to put my story, since I don't know where I'll be writing from next. I will add more later.
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JORIANA

CRACK!
My sword slipped past my opponent's and delivered a ringing blow to the helmet behind it, knocking my foe down. Taking advantage of the momentary pause, I knocked the sword away and placed my point at my adversary's throat.
I heard the referee whistle. "And the winner is...Joriana!"
As the watching warriors cheered, my opponent got up and shook my hand. "Great match, Joriana. You're a tough fighter." I thanked her, then went to drop my wooden practice sword on the pile and get out of my filthy armor.
I stripped everything off before jumping into the warriors' pool - everything except the leather cuff around my left wrist. No one commented on my omission. Though all the warriors wore them while fighting to keep the shield's strap from chafing their left wrist, I was the only one who wore mine all the time. It was of the finest leather, treated with special oils to make it waterproof, with my name pressed on it. Everyone thought I wore it as proof of my status, since I was the youngest girl ever to become not only a full warrior but a commander in the elite Queen's Own Guards. This was true; but I wore it for another reason as well.
Back in the privacy of my room, I took the cuff off. Once again I traced the lines of my strange birthmark, a row of shields running like a bracelet around my left wrist. Nobody but my mother knew about it; she had covered it from the moment I was born. As soon as I was old enough to understand, she took me aside and explained how I might get burned as a witch because of it. I took her words to heart, and kept my wrist covered. By the time I decided she was mistaken, the habit was too deeply ingrained.
My mother...My thoughts turned to the tough but gentle woman who died when I was 7. She was a builder; it was what she loved, and in the end it killed her. A rope had broken, and the wall of the house she was working on had fallen down on her, crushing everything but one arm...I shuddered and forced the remembered image from my thoughts.
After her death, I was taken into the orphanage. I quickly learned to fight to protect my meager belongings from the older orphans. I rapidly became skilled at fighting; not even the oldest, biggest bullies touched me.
At 10 we were required to choose a profession to learn; I promptly applied for the City Guard, and was accepted. The instructors were astonished by my aptitude. Normally, trainees spent 2 years learning the basic skills, then 4 years practicing them and learning more advanced techniques. I completed my training at 13.
The day I was made a full warrior, I was approached by a woman who told me the Queen was looking for skilled warriors to expand her Guards. She said she had been watching the final testing, saw my potential and decided to offer me the opportunity to fulfill it by joining the Queen's Own. I eagerly accepted.
I kept rising, even though by this time I was competing against women several years older than I was. I passed through bronze warrior, to silver, to gold by the time I was 16. No one else had ever achieved gold rank before the age of 21. Now, at 17, I had just been given my first command post.
It was all I had ever wanted. So why did I feel dissatisfied? I touched the birthmark again, wondering.
The palace bell, summoning the warriors to the midday meal, brought me out of my reverie. I hastily slid the cuff back on, hurried down to the dining area, and picked up my tray. I found a table off to the side, saluting my senior officers as I passed their table, and began to eat. But I had hardly taken three bites when the bell rang again.
One of the Queen's attendants came in and spoke quickly to the commander, then left again. The commander stood up and told us, "The Queen wishes to walk the city wall. We are to make sure it is safe." None of the women questioned why the Queen wanted to do such a thing, or why she absolutely had to do it in the middle of our meal.
The commander continued, "I need three squads." Her gaze roamed over the assembly. "Adriala, take your group and clear the wall south of the castle. Joriana, take the north. Eline, you stay with the queen as she walks."
I bowed, then turned to find my command. They were already slipping into their armor, with the ease of long practice. I quickly did the same, then headed through the maze of the castle to one of the doors that led out onto the wall around the city.
The guard at the door challenged us, though we were clearly from the castle. "Who are you and what is your business?"
I replied, though it should have been obvious, "Queen's Own. We are to secure the wall for the Queen."
She glared. "The City Guard does a perfectly good job guarding the wall. We don't need your high-and-mighty lot."
I bit back my cutting reply and merely said, "We're wasting time." I signaled my squad to move forward. The guard looked daggers at us, but let us pass.
We quickly completed our work. There were no enemies hiding on the city wall, nor had I expected there to be. However, we had been told to search the wall, so we did.
We took up position at the north end of the wall. As it happened, there was a guardhouse nearby, and one of the off-duty guards came out to see what was going on. When she saw us, she started hurling insults at us at the top of her lungs, and some of her friends - slightly drunk, as was she - came out to join the fun. I ignored them, but a hotheaded young bronze warrior, who had just joined my squad that week, didn't. About the time our tormentors reached "you **** uppity **** daughters of **** ****", she yelled and charged.
The City guards were drunk and not as well trained, but they outnumbered her considerably. Without thinking, I drew my short club and signaled my squad to charge. The City guards responded in kind, and the battle was joined.
I don't know how long we fought. I dodged, parried, and smashed my way through the guards. But suddenly I noticed that those of the City guards who still could were picking themselves up and backing away, carrying their fallen comrades. As their ringleader was leaving, she gave me a glance of pure hatred and told me in a low voice, "Beware, Joriana of the Queen's Own. For all your skill and fame, you are not omnipotent. Beware lest you find something dear to you is stolen, as you have stolen our honor."
Ignoring her cryptic words, I inspected my command. There were a few cuts and bruises, but altogether we came off very well. By the time the runner came to inform us that the Queen was finished and we could return, we didn't look as if we'd been fighting at all.We hurried to finish our interrupted meal.