Homely Prison

The return to Ostiarium gave Tarmen time to fester. He never claimed to be knowledgeable in the ways of governing and diplomacy, but something about this mission continued to rub him the wrong way. He was well aware that Zane would withhold much of the finer details, keeping them in the dark in case loose ends needed to be lost. What made it different this time was that he couldn't tell the Empire and Zane to kiss his ass.
Being back in the settlement turned the festering from a bad rub to a constant itch. He was ordered to join the building effort with little chance to venture back into the wilds. It hadn't been bad after being on the sea, but after embracing only a bit of the freedom that Arcadia could offer, Ostiarium was a cage.
"You keep bitchin' like that and our arrangement is over."
Tarmen rolled his eyes, knowing that the soldier whos bed he shared would feel different if she had joined them. Since the festival, Tarmen and Ester, the master belcher, had made a deal to provide physical comfort when they needed it. He had rather enjoyed it, her sporting a rather shapely, rugged figure and as a 'former' mercenary, she had a rougher bedtime manner that Tarmen found very arousing.
"So what if they set the tribes against each other, less blood on our hands. Good sense, is what I call it."
Tarmen could definitely agree with it. Why fight two groups when you could fight one badly wounded one? But he didn't agree with how ready the Empire seemed to be to kill them off, he had never liked that about them.
Ugh, now he was getting all caught up in it. Why did he care about it? He already didn't like the Fang tribes, so why not set them against their long time rivals.
Groaning in mental frustration, Tarmen got up. He figured he would go to the butcher, see if he was smoking anything. If not, then any of the vendors. Anything to put off working on the walls and thinking any deeper.
"It might just be my wanderlust. Got a taste and now my head is looking for any reason to justify running away from here."
This brought a snort from Ester, awarding her a questioning glare.
"First sign of trouble and you want to run like a coward? Maybe Hoi played a trick on me to find an interest in you."
Tarmen couldn't hold back a laugh, nearly tumbling over from being in the middle of pulling his pants on. Once he was steadied and the trousers secured, he moved to his lovers side of the bed and with a teasing grace, pinned her.
"Always so quick to judge. I do not run out of cowardice, but from knowing my own worth. I despise being a pawn for the Empire and "Sir Zane"."
Letting her go and making his way to the door, he stopped to look back.
"Wouldn't mind a gang to come with me. If you ever get sick of city livin', I think we would work good together."
He laughed it off of course, he didn't want his higher ups chewing his ass about "abandoning his sacred duty" and could just brush it off as him venting. Making his way to the vendors row, Tarmen couldn't keep his mind from lingering on his worries.
Whatever had been brewing before his arrival would not end well for anyone and he would be damned before he saw himself forced into that shit show.