preagonal

The Thalmor post in Understone Keep was not one of Ioannes’ favorite places to visit. 

Nonetheless, he was obligated to, and refusal was pointless. They would just send a justiciar to conduct the necessary checks. At least, 10 months into this, interviews with the resident Dominion Commander in the keep had become less painfully stiff and polite.

It was probably unwise to forget that they were even less enthusiastic about talking to him than he was about them.

The talk is, at the least, very brief, and the undercurrent of discomfort not so pronounced as it used to be. Unfortunately, the Commander appears to have informed one of the newly-posted foot-soldiers that Ioannes is to be escorted out. The young mer, crisply-uniformed, also appears to have taken it upon himself to conduct some sort of half-witted interrogation as he does so. Inane questions are easy to ignore, but eventually, approaching the door, he turns to the mer (who actually does appear to be younger than him, for once). 

“Look, I have been through this with your superiors. About sixteen times. So if you could, just maybe, go and address your questions regarding my activities, past and present, to one of them instead of me–”