Night was coming quick, yet the bustle of the camp almost seemed to intensify. So much chatter and noise, with rowdy demonstrations of skill and heated competition abound. Anything to throw off the shroud of boredom was welcome to these people, and with good reason; sitting on a dingy back road hardly made for a busy time, especially with the job given to the camp, which was to simply observe and nothing else. There was an outlier to the activities, though. Sitting atop a pile of crates near some tents was a hooded man, absentmindedly twiddling with the tassels on the sheath of his shortsword and watching his comrades. 

Sagax had never felt quite so out of place before. He had never seen combat and his skills with a blade were weak, contrasting with some of his comrades who ranged from grizzled veteran soldiers to career mercenaries, all with their own tales of glory to tell. He was as green as green could be, and everyone knew it. This made Ashav's decision to admit the man into the group all the more puzzling to Sagax, though he wasn't about to question the decision. This is what he wanted to do, and he was grateful for the opportunity Ashav granted to him. 

Setting his shortsword down, leaning it against the bottom crate, Sagax opened his pack and removed a letter he recently received, before he had joined with this company. It was signed by his sister, Piper, but he hadn't been able to read it until now since he had some duties to attend to after he arrived in the camp. Opening it, Sagax began to read over his sister's rough print. Both Sagax and Piper received a rather decent education, but Piper simply refused to "pretty up" her handwriting; she saw it as a waste of time and paper. 

"About time you wrote back! I'm sure mother would have been brought to tears of worry if your letter arrived a few minutes later than it did. Oh, and since you asked, aside from being sick with worry, she's completely fine. Her rockjoint finally went away with time and a few doses of medicine. 

So, made it to Skyrim, have you? Conflict's thick up there I hear, you should be able to find work with no problem. Just make sure to join up with people who know what they're doing, alright? We want to see you come home eventually. Don't do anything stupid, and no heroics, either!

Things are alright down here. Some people give us dirty looks, but I shoot one right back. Apparently I've grown up to look pretty mean. I'm glad. I ain't "Pretty Piper" any more, and I don't have time for anyone's shit. I'm making good money guarding the local shops; boring though. I'm thinking about joining up with the Imperial Watch. The pay I currently get is nice and all, but it lacks purpose, you know? I know I'll be treated with distrust, but that'll just be part of the challenge. I'll prove our family still cares for the people of the empire, even if they don't much care for us. I wonder what father would think of what we do now? 

But I think I'd have taken up enough of your time by the time you read this letter, and mother's calling me down to help with something. Take care, Sagax.

Oh, and Varulae sends her love. 




PS. Kidding! Really though, she's glad that you're alright."

Sagax was pleased to hear that everything was fine back home. Piper's musings on joining the Watch surprised him, but he supposed that it was to be expected. She had always wanted to be like her father, completely taken in by Caius's lectures on protecting the empire and serving its people dutifully, and growing up always vying for his approval. The fact that she had not grown bitter and resentful to the very people that scorned her and her family, and instead thought to take it upon herself to serve and protect them was, to Sagax, a testament to her moral character and integrity.

Filing the paper away in his bag, Sagax grabbed his sword and hopped off his perch, wanting to take a small tour of the camp and get a read on his comrades. He saw several people he had met at the signing tables, but they seemed a bit too busy for Sagax to pester. He caught a glance of a provisions carrier collide with an elf outside of the command tent, but saw someone come out to help, so Sagax simply kept walking. Eventually Sagax zoned out, and "toured" the camp about ten more times before coming to his senses after hearing some brute of a man shout above the camp. A gathering was occuring, and the leader wanted everyone. 

Sagax made his way to the back of the crowd, out of the way of all the nords who he knew were not very welcoming of new blood. "Sending a boy to do a man's job", and other such things would be muttered as the Imperial passed. He found a comfortable spot out of sight next to a quiet argonian. Ears open, Sagax heard the call for volunteers to join a scouting party. His heart began to race, and his nervousness was positively visible: his legs shook slightly and his face grew stiff. He looked around at the others, secretly hoping that others would throw up their hands. Sagax was relieved to see two hands shoot up almost instantly. The elf he saw earlier, and a nord. A lull occured afterwards, though. The Imperial fought through his fear, and rationalized that his speed would be of great use, and his hand was halfway up when his neighbor raised up his own. Sagax knew enough about him to know that he was extremely skilled with bows. Perhaps it was for the best that he go instead of Sagax. "What would I do with my speed anyway? Run away to leave my comrades to die? Yeah, great skill you got there, Sagax..." he muttered scornfully to himself. He shook his head and turned to the argonian, hand outstretched for a shake. "Good luck, friend."