[center][b]Afternoon Sun's Height 25[/b][/center] [hr] Keegan only heard it when the third plea reached his ears. Apparently his pace was too swift, and the jumbled words urged him to reduce his celerity. He did not stop. He was beyond caring at this point. He went fast and furious like he was running for his dear life. He was essentially doing just that; trying to forget the anguish he received an hour ago. Then the completion drew near; Keegan came to his finale in two and a half blurry minutes. "Stop! You can't-" These words felt like ribbons holding back a charging bull. If anything, Keegan felt challenged and emboldened by them. He only gripped on tighter and let out the frustration accumulated in many months. His ending was fleeting, and the aftermath threatened to remind him that he was far from satisfied; the entire act was meaningless at the end. "Was that good for you?" Almad smiled from beneath. He gasped from breath and fanned himself. When Keegan didn't not respond to him, he began to push the Altmer off. Keegan nodded just for the sake of politeness. "Uh, yes, thanks." "No need to thank me; it is to Dibella that you owe your gratitude. I am just her humble servant, and this session makes one of many layers in my profile." Almad nodded in return. "However, compensations help me spread the love, and there would be extra-" "Oh! Uh..." Keegan rolled off the padded cot as soon as the consequences hit home. He scrambled for clothing in the suddenly stuffy and musky tent. Putting on pants became the hardest thing he had ever done. He heard Almad complaining behind him, and becoming ever agitated. "...not included the package. What happened must be-" Suddenly, a tail peeked into the tent. Behind the tail came the most silly Argonian voice. [color=#5BC236]"[/color][color=#59C035]C[/color][color=#58BE34]l[/color][color=#56BD33]e[/color][color=#55BB32]a[/color][color=#53BA31]n[/color][color=#52B830]i[/color][color=#50B72F]n[/color][color=#4FB52E]g[/color][color=#4DB42E],[/color] [color=#4AB12C]e[/color][color=#49AF2B]h[/color][color=#47AD2A]?[/color] [color=#44AA28]I[/color] [color=#41A726]h[/color][color=#40A626]a[/color][color=#3EA425]v[/color][color=#3DA324]e[/color] [color=#3AA022]s[/color][color=#389E21]o[/color][color=#379D20]m[/color][color=#359B1F]e[/color][color=#34991E]t[/color][color=#32981E]h[/color][color=#31961D]i[/color][color=#2F951C]n[/color][color=#2E931B]g[/color] [color=#2B9019]f[/color][color=#298F18]o[/color][color=#288D17]r[/color] [color=#258A16]y[/color][color=#238815]o[/color][color=#228714]u[/color][color=#208513].[/color] [color=#1D8211]H[/color][color=#1C8110]e[/color][color=#1A7F0F]r[/color][color=#197E0F]e[/color][color=#177C0E],[/color] [color=#14790C]p[/color][color=#13780B]o[/color][color=#11760A]l[/color][color=#107409]i[/color][color=#0E7308]s[/color][color=#0D7107]h[/color] [color=#0A6E06]m[/color][color=#086D05]y[/color] [color=#056A03]s[/color][color=#046802]p[/color][color=#026701]-[/color][color=#016500]"[/color] Came the sing-song of an awkward Argonian. In his hands was a maid costume and a...strap-on tail? "No, Pump-the-Stump; I said I cannot fulfill your request." Almad dismissed the unwelcome guest. Sparing a glance behind, Keegan noticed that Almad had somehow already donned his pants and an open vest. [color=#5BC236]"[/color][color=#59C034]B[/color][color=#57BE33]u[/color][color=#55BC32]t[/color] [color=#51B830]w[/color][color=#50B62F]e[/color] [color=#4CB22D]h[/color][color=#4AB12C]a[/color][color=#48AF2B]v[/color][color=#46AD2A]e[/color] [color=#43A927]p[/color][color=#41A726]l[/color][color=#3FA525]e[/color][color=#3DA324]n[/color][color=#3CA223]t[/color][color=#3AA022]y[/color] [color=#369C20]o[/color][color=#349A1F]f[/color] [color=#31961D]t[/color][color=#2F941C]i[/color][color=#2D931B]m[/color][color=#2B9119]e[/color][color=#298F18],[/color] [color=#268B16]m[/color][color=#248915]y[/color] [color=#208513]s[/color][color=#1E8312]w[/color][color=#1D8211]e[/color][color=#1B8010]e[/color][color=#197E0F]t[/color][color=#177C0E].[/color] [color=#14780B]P[/color][color=#12760A]l[/color][color=#107409]e[/color][color=#0E7308]n[/color][color=#0C7107]t[/color][color=#0A6F06]y[/color] [color=#076B04]o[/color][color=#056903]f[/color][color=#036702]-[/color][color=#016501]"[/color] "No more [i]role-playing[/i]!" Almad screamed. "Guards! There is an Argonian in town!" The time it took Almad to throw out the Argonian must have been sent Auriel himself, because in this timeframe, Keegan managed to put on his basic articles of clothing and took hold of the rest of his belongings. He took off just in time for Almad to come back, and due to a small line forming in front of the Redguard's "service center", he wasn't able to chase Keegan down. Another blessing; Almad wouldn't be impressed if he found out that Keegan had no more coins in his pockets. [center][img]http://i.imgur.com/w0XWwEk.png[/img][/center] Keegan was staring at a pinned [i]Gazette[/i] ten minutes later, and was feeling like the gods took a supreme shit on him once again. The world sucked, its people sucked and the things they do to each other sucked big time. Just what the crap happened back in Alinor, and why was Keegan giving a damn? Maybe it was because now he began to understand how intricate Dominion politics were. He was sheltered on the summer island, almost confined to a cage single-mindedly shaping him into an architect. How much went above his head, how much was decided behind the backs of people like him, and how ignorant could he have been? He knew there was the Thalmor, the supposedly symbolic monarchy and people of varying opinions. What he didn't know was the power struggle taking place away from the common folks, and now, the conflicts have been brought to the common folks themselves. Does it mean a revolution have taken place? Not likely. The new regime wanted to uphold the Dominion, and that likely meant keeping Keegan on their treason list. That fateful letter somehow found its way into Keegan's palm once more. It was first there an hour ago, making its way from Dough-Boy, who relayed on behalf of Gustav, who received it in Ashav's absence. Turning the envelope that Keegan never got to throw away, the mail-in date of the 19[sup]th[/sup] stared an uncomfortable pit in Keegan's eyes. That was the day before they set out, and it must have been sent in the same mass of letters Rhasha, Sevine, Sadri and everyone else received. So why was he left without his correspondence? This folded pocket of paper felt heavy as lead when Keegan flipped back to its front. There was a detail he missed upon initial opening, when the sole interest was to discover the content within. Now cooled by a huge disappointment and a gust of wind that picked up out of nowhere, Keegan saw there's two layers of wax. One small puddle underneath was barely covered by a larger mix on top. These weren't the same shade of red; the bottom was a darker shade, while the top was still fresh like a bleeding wound. Nested immediately below the first layer and partially obscured by the second were messy notes, they appeared to be scribbled with little care, and after painstakingly clearing out dried wax with his nails, Keegan could discern two words: [i]unconforming[/i] and [i]destroy[/i]. The conclusion chilled Keegan to the bone: Ashav had read the letter for Keegan and planned to destroy it. Heat then replaced the chill, as the shame of exposing such a personal and vulnerable correspondence intermixed with the rage directed at Ashav. Keegan desperately wanted to scream profanities and punch the Redguard commander square in his jaw. How dare the man violate his most sacred privacy? How dare he throw away something so vital on a whim? And most importantly, as Keegan had figured from his month-long service, how little did Ashav care about his men? Looking at the staggering casualties so far, it was clearly very little. All Keegan saw was Ashav drinking himself dead in a sorry tavern somewhere. Perhaps Farid was right. Perhaps it's simply the old man's age catching up to him; after all, human years add up like dog years. Perhaps there's more sickness than whatever rasped Ashav voice, and if Keegan was to guess, it was probably witbane. Whatever it was, Keegan was not confident in the current leadership. Of course, there's still the letter itself. [hider=From: Firsthold, Alinor - To: Dawnstar, Skyrim] [quote=Skoerrho] [i]Rejecting an orderly future scheduled by parents is the more irresponsible and immature act a child can partake. Not only did the child upsets decades of meticulous work and planning by his parents, but he also forsakes expectations of his prestigious ancestors. The corrections institute is designed for those still capable of returning to their right path, and in the case discussed, the sole appropriate treatment is termination. It is beyond all hope once the child leaves our privileged homeland. The Aldmeri Dominion strips citizenship from those staying extended periods in foreign states without proper authorization. Therefore, as no dedicated Altmeri architect lineages include non-citizens, the runaway would have been erased from all memories. It does not matter what the youth experiences, what he recognizes and what his parents perceive in his absence. For without the bloodline, there is no son. All of Tamriel are indebted to Alinor for civilization, but only Altmers can be indebted to each other.[/i] [hr] [center][h3]Thalmor Central Memospore Data[/h3][/center] [table][row][cell] Subject [/cell][cell] Information [/cell][cell] Treatment [/cell][cell] Location [/cell] [/row][row] [cell] Pillarreeve Aervyn [/cell][cell] F/189/Firstwatch/C5 [/cell][cell] Pedagogic rehabilitation [/cell][cell] Dominion Corrections Annex, Alinor City [/cell][/row][/table] [center][color=9F9270]Released by his majesty's ministry of amalgamation. Glory to High King Aelid, damnation to the Thalmor traitors.[/color][/center] [/quote] [/hider] The only thing that could screw up Keegan's day some more was combining his two complaints together, and that's exactly what he got; Dumhuvud walking in out of nowhere. The Nord brute snatched away Keegan's letter before he even saw it coming. Dumhuvud's terrible breath perforated into Keegan's nostrils, even though the Altmer stood slightly higher. Accompanying the foul-smelling breath were equally foul teeth, and following the foul-looking sneer were the most foul-sounding words. "What are you up to, huh!? Are you fucking conspiring with them!?" Keegan's hands flew back towards the letter before he knew it, and before he knew it, the Cat-Kicker had grabbed one of his arms. His other arm went to free the first, but for some unconscious or unintentional reason, Keegan slapped Dumhuvud with his free hand. In a whirlwind of motion, Dumhuvud pinched Keegan's still captive hand and flung the Altmer over his shoulder. Keegan landed hard on his back, with kicked up dust clouding his vision. The shape of Dumhuvud pierced through the dust with a maddening yell. "Don't you fucking lay a finger on me!" He crumbled up the letter and threw it into Keegan's face. Then crouching and dragging Keegan up to meet his fuming eyes, the Cat-Kicker thumped the axe on his side. "Lucky you're not one of these cats or that prick Beleth," he drew a mocking cut across Keegan's neck, "or I would've cut your worthless head off and-" "Eat shit and die!" Keegan spat. The reaction when spit touched Dumhuvud would have been amusing, but Keegan's amusement was to be extremely short-lived. The Nord let out a beast-like roar and jumped to his feet. Then one of those steel-toe boot clad feet flew forward at Keegan's midsection. The impact behind the kick flipped Keegan over. He found himself doubled over on his knees, clenching his stomach and feces had been literally kicked out of his rear. When he looked up again, he saw Dumhuvud wiping the spit off his face and repaying the favor. Keegan was spat on twice, thrice and four times to count. Dumhuvud shouted all throughout, but as far as Keegan has heard, only barb-sounding phonemes were spoken; there was not a single cohesive word. [center][img]http://i.imgur.com/w0XWwEk.png[/img][/center] Keegan didn't know how long he blacked out for, or how he blacked out in the first place, though he suspected that it might have been related to Dumhuvud's boot approaching his face. He was woken up by a pair of guards, who rudely poured urine on his face and told him squatting was not permitted on roads connected to the jarl's longhouse. There was really no debate to that particular brand of wisdom, as Keegan had enough of dead end debates and one-sided wisdom in this frosthole. He didn't even spare the guards a glance before reverting to his favorite defense mechanism; running away. Keegan's prized staff was lost wayside, though that wouldn't be a worry until much later. The letter from his father hanged onto Keegan's coat collar, but when he discovered it, he wasted no time disintergrating it with magical lightning. Keegan cursed the damned company as he booked it out of Dawnstar; that drunken imbecile Ashav, that son of a troll Dumhuvud, that selfish coward Daelin, who was brave in ordering his subordinates to their deaths, but began crying for home and mommy as soon as reality dawned. Keegan didn't notice the environment until he cleared the city limit. The Argonian camp loomed as a dreadful reminder of the lives outside of civilization. He didnt even notice the sun setting until now, and as it stood, Keegan would soon find himself alone in the wilderness at night. Thankfully, a small caravan of people was just passing by at that moment. Apparently Almad was murdered for refusing a client's request, and the guards were now rumored to be planning a purge. Some Argonians were sick of waiting and decided to find a ship in Solitude, some Khajiits were going back for a supply run and the rest were just plain scared. Since it was good enough for them to cobble together a caravan, then it must be good enough for Keegan to tag along. So with almost the last of his pitiful saving, Keegan bought himself a ledge on a rocky cart. Why was he even here selling his life for people he didn't care, and for people that didn't care about him? Whatever the reclusive answer might be, Keegan decided to fight no more demons for a sliver of gold, no more trying to prove himself as the warrior he never meant to be. As Keegan settled in for another bumpy ride, he stayed awake clinging to the hope of a solitary cabin in a bountiful meadow. If Keegan stayed awake enough, he might just be dreaming, and if he dreamed long enough, he might just see himself with the impossible. These impossible dreams were so perfect that they confused Keegan on what he truly desired, and in the end, he made sense of it all by gazing heavy-eyed into the darkness.