The Tale of J'sarr - Prelude I - Cages

With many commitments in life, not least of all a job that takes me to far away places, this account of J'sarr has been a long time coming. I intend to, one day, catch up to present day in character events. Best intentions, etc. :)

Without further preamble, let's see what J'sarr is up to before the formation of the Blue Skooma Company...

The Tale of J'sarr
Prelude I

Cages

A ragged bed, a broken chair, a bucket and no window.

The Khajiit sighed and leaned back against the old stones of the tiny jail cell, wincing in pain as bruises under the spotted tan fur protested at the slightest touch. Dim light filtered through a small barred slot in the heavy wooden door next to him, doing little to illuminate the shadows that made the cramped room their home. Bruised eyes turned away from the darkness before falling shut, feline nostrils twitching as stale odours came and went. The Khajiit did not like this place at all, even if it were just for one night. Caged, like some kind of animal, held against his will. It was insulting. He gingerly ran a paw over his face, feeling several painful lumps and patches of dried blood. Though he did not like to admit it, the fight had been a one sided affair. Did he even land a punch? How much Rotmeth did he drink? The Khajiit took a slow, shuddering breath, fighting back a wave of nausea.

A loud bang caused the door to rattle. Light from the small barred slot vanishing, replaced with an eye that peered into the gloom. "The cat's in this one." Keys rattled and the heavy door creaked open, a burning torch thrust into the cell, it's crackling tip held not far from the Khajiit's face, causing him to growl and turn away from the painful light and sudden heat. Someone laughed, "Did I singe your whiskers, cat?" Another voice, "Take him upstairs." Rough hands gripped his arms,"If he gives you any trouble, put him back in the cell for another night."

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"Your name is J'sarr, correct?" An Altmer in a well fitted brown tunic spoke without looking up from a tidy collection of papers on a large wooden desk. J'sarr lifted his throbbing head, glancing around with detached interest. It was not a proper courtroom, Vulkhel Guard had little need for one. A few bookshelves leaned against the walls, displaying repetitive book spines in typical bureaucratic style. The Khajiit looked right, a group of three surly Altmer glared back at him, their clothes tidy but well worn. J'sarr smiled and inclined his head toward the trio, judging by the bruises he apparently had landed a punch or two. To his left a familiar face stared impassively back at him. J'sarr shrugged helplessly at his Mage Guild superior, lifting his wrists as if to display the injustice of the shackles that bound him. Valaste's expression darkened as she jerked her head in the direction of the now frowning Altmer magistrate.

J'sarr curled his tongue around the answer, Khajiiti accent thick, "Corrrrect," and after a slight pause, embellished with a hint of mock reverence, "uhh.. your maaajesty."

"I am not a member of the royal family. You have no need to address me as such," the well dressed high elf answered curtly, not bothering to look up from the papers on his desk. "You stand accused of causing an affray in the Salted Wings tavern last night resulting in damage to person and property. How say you."

The Khajiit looked shocked, "J'sarr is innocent, of course. This one merely wished to enjoy a peaceful drink."

"That's a lie," the shorter of the three surly Altmer interjected. "That cat started it when he came to our farm last week."

The magistrate finally looked up from his papers, "Khajiit, you visited Mister.." he read his notes, "..Aulro's farm? For what purpose?"

J'sarr glanced at Valaste, "Mage Guild business. This one was tasked with collecting an order of herbs from the farm." He shrugged and continued, "A routine task for J'sarr, sadly. Fetch this.. fetch that.. don't do this.. don't do that.."

"That's not all he did at my farm!" Aulro and his two companions nodded and muttered darkly.

The magistrate raised his neatly trimmed eyebrows, "Oh? What else did this Khajiit do?"

Aulro's mouth quivered in anger, his posture stiffening, "My.. daughter."

"Your daughter?"

"Yes m'lord.. And the stable boy."

The Altmeri official turned a surprised look to J'sarr, "AND the stable boy?"

J'sarr shrugged meekly, "It.. uhh.. was at the same time. If that makes any difference?" J'sarr's ears twitched. He could hear Valaste scoff and three Altmeri farmers shouting.

"Quiet please!" The magistrate rose from his seat, "Quiet! Now, Mister Aulro, you found this Khajiit drinking in the Salted Wings tavern last night, yes? Then what happened."

The farmer took a breath, calming himself, "Aye, we found him there. The cat refused to apologize." He turned to angrily to J'sarr, "He should be thrown in prison! These Khajiit lack respect and common decency!"

With a slight snarl, J'sarr raised his voice, addressing the magistrate "Does Aulro own these two people? Are they Aulro's property? Do they not make their own choices? Or are they his slaves?" J'sarr looked around the room, his golden eyes flashing, his voice filling the space as he raised his shackled wrists, "Khajiit know much of slavery. Khajiit know what it is like to have free choice taken from them. Is this what the Dominion stands for?" Turning back to the magistrate, the Khajiit lowered his voice, "Surely we must be free to choose who we love and who we care for? If not, then what is the Dominion fighting for? Truly, what is the point if, in the end, we are not all free people?"

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J'sarr rubbed his bare wrists where the shackles had sat as he stood on the steps of the courthouse looking into the Vulkhel Guard streets. He ran a paw through his hair in an attempt to straighten the normally well kept mane, his golden eyes blinking in the bright sun. A cool sea breeze ruffled the fur on his face and he took a deep breath, allowing a slight smile to creep across his muzzle.

"Well you can wipe that grin from your face." Valaste pushed past him and strode off, "and hurry up, you've got work to do." The Khajiit fell into step beside his guild superior, waiting for the inevitable lecture. "Some day you are going to find a situation you can't talk your way out of.."

"Some day.." J'sarr mused.

Valaste continued, "..and honestly, linking your debauchery to slavery? Not one of your finest moments, Adept."

J'sarr shrugged, offering a charming smile, "Those ones seemed to like it, however. You think J'sarr was.. insincere?"

Valaste shook her head and huffed, "It doesn't matter. The Mages Guild will have to pay for the damage you did to that tavern. And as such you will be punished. Starting tomorrow you will stop those silly alchemical experiments you've been doing and assist Alchemist Siriwen in The Crystal Vial. She needs someone to help her gather supplies."

The Khajiit stopped walking, his mood darkening, "Those experiments are important! This.. errand work could be done by a simple child. J'sarr has much more important.." He growled as Valaste kept walking, clearly uninterested in his objections.

J'sarr caught up to Valaste on the front steps of the Vulkhel Guard Mages Guild, "Valaste, J'sarr did nothing wrong, he was simply trying to defend himself."

Valaste kept walking, passing through the main hall, "Of all my Adepts, J'sarr, you are the most trouble. Just the other day one of your fellow Adepts, who joined at the same time as you I might add, uncovered a dark plot involving Arch Mage Shalidor and Sheogorath no less! And what have you been doing? Tinkering with bottles and potions. I honestly don't know what I've done to have you assigned to me." She sighed, stopping at the entrance to the Mages Guild accommodation wing, "You will start work at The Crystal Vial tomorrow. Until then you are confined to you quarters."

J'sarr clenched his jaw tightly, meeting Valaste's eyes with his in a brief moment of defiance before turning away, his shoulders slumping as he walked down the long hallway to his room. The Khajiit opened his door and slumped against the frame. "This is no life for J'sarr," he grunted under this breath, casting weary eyes over the tiny space with frustration.

A ragged bed, a broken chair, a bucket and no window.

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