[sub]ft. [@Hank][/sub]

Lifts-Many-Boulders was not entirely accustomed to city life. The hustle and bustle of the streets, the concerned glances of Nords and Imperials as he tried to squeeze his way through the thoroughfare and duck his head beneath any arches or doorways, and the civilized nature of it all wasn’t a snug fit for him. The Dresmer deprived him of quite a few things growing up, and it left him feeling like an ignorant baby in a world too quick to label him a savage. Then there was quite the embarrassing feeling of pretending that he knew how to read and looking at the list over and over again as if it was some long, densely packed pamphlet of information rather than a brief notice of who was accepted or not. There was the intermittent person who would come around, read the list, and look either disappointed or grinning from ear to ear. There were two such Nord woman, a khajiit, and one Imperial man seemed to utter something beneath his breath too quiet for his words to cross the vertical distance between the two. A well of frustration was building up in his chest when he suddenly heard the same Imperial name mutter his name. [i]His [/i]name.

“Lifts-Many-Boulders,” he chuckled, “I can see why.”

The argonian looked to imperial man, who he stood at least a foot over -- to say nothing of his height, for Boulders stood taller than anyone he had ever met -- but he looked at him with some measure of surprise and awe. He slowly turned and, perhaps when the man was not expecting it, covered his shoulder with his own massive hand, still clammy from the melted snow. He squatted down in order to be at equal head heights, and his reptilian eyes bore into the Imperial’s.

“How do you know my name?” He asked curiously. He assumed that maybe he was some kind of wizard or oracle. Considering most of his interactions were between dark elves and argonians, it seemed like a reasonable guess to him.

Rhillian forced himself to remain still when the giant Argonian placed an equally massive paw on his shoulder. He met Boulders' gaze and saw nothing but genuine curiosity in the beastman's eyes. Relieved, and intrigued by the question, Rhillian cleared his throat and smiled. "Your name is listed there," he explained. "I didn't see anyone else here that looks like they can lift many boulders, so I figured that it must be you. I'm pleased that I was right." 

He held out a hand for the Argonian to shake, mildly worried that Boulders was going to crush it unintentionally -- but it would be rude not to offer. "My name is Rhillian of Drakelowe. It looks like we've both been accepted into the guild." He paused and tilted his head. "Forgive me for the question, but I must ask. Can you read?" 

Boulders’ reaction was first and foremost one of glee and satisfaction. To think somebody actually wanted him around! The spines on his head were as erect as he was overjoyed, and it took much of his self control to keep himself from squeezing Rhillian into paste. Then he was forced to pause as he looked down at the hand being offered to him; Rhillian’s concerns were correct in that the argonian was in fact worried about crushing the man’s hand, so he gently took Rhillian’s hand between two fingers and waggled it around like some kind of fish, somewhat unfamiliar with the greeting. Of course, he’s seen it done before, but in actual practice and the anxiety of actually meeting people, his observations has gone to the wayside in favor of improvising. At the man’s question, he shook his head. “The Dresmer never taught me.” He said matter-of-factly.  “But I liked it when one nice lady read to me. Thank you, Rhill….ian, for reading too.”

Lifts-Many-Boulders popped open one of the pouches hanging from the harness strapped across his chest, and with the claw on one of his fingers, seemed to be fishing for something with laser-like focus before a chunk of fish came out stuck to his claw. It smoked and salted, though it still seemed raw in sections and probably in the center, yet undeniably fresh as the sheen of moisture still clung to the salt and sections of underprepared flesh. The argonian offered it to Rhillian, sticking his finger towards his chest. It was clear he wasn’t much of a talker, and when he did, did so in clipped phrases and preferred to communicate through action and kind  gestures.

"You're welcome," Rhillian said. He made a mental note to ask after the nature of these 'Dresmer' later. It was his turn to shake his head when the fish was offered to him. "I can't accept that. Thank you, but people like me, Imperials, shouldn't eat fish until it's been cooked through. We can get sick otherwise." He smiled, though, and ran a hand through his silver-streaked hair. He considered how he must look next to the Argonian and the thought made him chuckle. He wasn't a small man by any means and the bulk of his fur-lined robes, as blue as the summer sky, only added to that. And yet Boulders dwarfed him without even trying. 

"I can teach how to read, if you like," the priest offered in turn. "You should learn that if you're going to be a citizen of the Empire. We're going to be spending a lot of time together as it is, so there'll be plenty of opportunity. What do you say?" 

Boulders cocked his head to the side curiously as he stuck the fish into his mouth and and replied simply, “Dresmer told me my kind can’t read. You are nice to offer, though.”

Then Rhillian’s mention of them working together reminded him of the fact he was given a job to do, and suddenly the sense of camaraderie began creeping in, and he felt the urge to be celebrating with the small nord woman and her khajiit friend. His head cocked to the other side to eagerly watch the little ones jump in place with excitement and gush to one another over their acceptance. He looked around at all those gathered around the post and realized that this would be his new tribe from this point going forward. Looking back to Rhillian, he added, “We have many new friends, yes?”

The purity of the Argonian was endearing and Rhillian couldn't help but grin and nod in agreement. "Yes, we do." Giving it some thought, and armed with the knowledge that the mysterious Dresmer had lied to Boulders, the Imperial theorised that they might be dark elves. Wasn't there a Great House called Dres? "Say, my friend; these Dresmer you mentioned. They wouldn't happen to have grey skin and red eyes, would they?" 

Boulders nodded and gave a low growl that seemed to serve as affirmation. “Yes, dunmers. Many kinds of dunmers too, but the ones that took me are from Dres. So they’re Dresmer. You know them?”

Rhillian paused for a second before he shrugged. “I know [i]of[/i] them, but I never visited the plantations when I went to Morrowind,” he said and looked at the Argonian in a new light. A runaway slave, he deduced, which explained the lack of an education. “You should know that the Dresmer lied to you. Argonians…” He paused and racked his brain. “Saxhleel, your people, can read just fine. Like everyone else, you just need to be taught. Your former masters deliberately didn’t because that made you easier to control,” the Imperial said and tapped the side of his head. “Knowledge is power.”

“Knowledge is power?” Lifts-Many-Boulders parroted. “Doesn’t sound right. Dresmer lying? That sounds right.” He felt inclined to believe him, at least more than he did the dark elves; but a brief pondering later, Boulders was scratching at his neck and trying to think in the same way Rhillian did. The Dresmer did believe they were trying to teach Boulders something valuable. They must have if they were so damned determined to keep him at whatever he was doing. They did teach him how to work in a kwama mine, for instance. That must have its uses.

“So…” Boulders began, trying to piece it all together. “You say you can teach me reading. If I don’t read, I’m easy to control. But you’d control me into reading. How then would reading make me free?”

It was a fair question, and a clever one. Rhillian got the distinct impression that there was a keen natural intellect hiding in Boulders' head, buried beneath his ignorance and his past. "When you can't read, you can only learn the things the people around you want to know, or the things you can learn by yourself. But throughout history there have been many people who wrote down what they knew. They're dead now, but their books survive." Rhillian smiled and gestured widely with his arms. "You can learn everything about anything when you can read. All you need is the right book."

The needle-like pupils in his Boulders’ eyes dilated, like two black orbs floating in seafoam, betraying any inclination he might have to keep his desires hidden. The end of his tongue wet the edges of his mouth and the spines on his head were standing erect. Rhillian was dangling in front of him something that may yet be worthwhile; it sounded too good to be true, and whether it be like whatever bait the Dresmer used to lure him into whip’s range or an actual, well-intentioned promise, he felt apprehensive to find out.

“You will read to me later then?” He finally responded.

Rhillian nodded, then jabbed a thumb at the guildhouse and added, “I guess I’ll see you around then. Good luck my friend.”

[i]Friend.[/i] Boulders cocked his head curiously. The people here in the heartland was much friendlier than those in places along the way. Morrowind, certainly not friendly; Eastmarch, barely friendlier. Between here and there, they’d rather see him keep on walking. Bruma wasn’t exactly welcoming, but there were diamonds in the rough that made it bearable. Diamonds like Rhillian. He waved farewell at the Imperial as he walked away and looked down at the others who were gathered before the post. There were many small ones he’d have to protect. He wondered if they, too, could be diamonds.