[center]Jameson Telluth, Captain of the Guard, Insignificant

[h1]Artis Port[/h1]

[/center]

"Another day at the docks," Jameson muttered as he handed the halfling his papers. "Another day reading midget's merchant qualifications..." The halfling spoke something in his native tongue as he made his way to the door, probably something the lines of "about damn time."

Artis Port was never a soldiers favorite station. The work was tedious, there was no action, and everyone's job was essentially to be a nuisance to traders and travelers. Checking papers, making sure people had badges, searching cargo for contraband, it was all boring as hell. And Jameson Telluth had been the bastard lucky enough to be in charge of it all. He remembered the days he spent on the wall in Fort Gloria, thinking it couldn't get worse than hot desert heat and constant threat from the desert tribes to the north. But even the beautiful landscape of Port Artis wouldn't stop him from trading posts with one of those soldiers any day.

"Next merchant..." Jameson called, his voice droning. It was only noon, but he felt as if he had been sitting at his desk checking papers for days now. 

[i]Oh God, if you're out there, give me some sort of out...[/i]

The door swung open and crashed into the walls of the room, the metal cracking the wood as the door slammed into it. Jameson jumped and instinctively drew his first sword with his right hand and his left on the other's hilt.

"Sir! We tried to remove some illegal travelers, but they were too violent and skilled for the Green Stripes! They got Maiht!"

"Damn, they took out a soldier?" Jameson growled, his second sword now drawn. "The scum will pay. Where are they now?" 

"The Burning Mare, sir."

Jameson nodded and made his way out the door.

"Stay here, son. Deal with the paperwork, I'll be back when the invaders are dead."

The door slammed and the young guard sighed.

"Damnnit..." He grumbled, making his way to the desk. "I think I'd rather be Maiht right about now..."