Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from the Morrowind franchise, although I'd like to.
That look in Anele's eyes could well easily disturb the common man. She usually never bore such an anxious look as the one she beheld now, but she had a good enough reason to. The sun had begun to set far out into the sky, signaling a time where most of the working Redguard class returned from doing Imperial bidding. It had been a calm day after all, but Anele had her mind set on the tax gold which where due at these times. Times were rough, a fact everyone in the country had felt, and it was hard to see her household paying this money off easily. The tax collector would not be pleased.
She heard a rummage from outside the wooden door. Anele frowned at the figure at the doorway.
"Anele, dear," Said the man, "Good to see you home. Have the tax collectors come by yet?"
"No. It's quite a good thing, too." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Jim, we're short on our levy payment. What are we going to do?"
Jim Stacey smiled. "No need to worry, my dear. I have it all under control." Having said this, Jim Stacey searched within his battered and soiled shirt an elaborately embroidered guar skin pouch. This he tossed to his impatient woman.
Anele felt the weight of the small bag in her hand. She unfastened the drawstrings tied around it and observed the contents within. "Oh my…" She breathed.
"Jim Stacey, where on the large lands of Tamriel did you get this gold?"
Jim Stacey smiled even more, revealing nothing of the matter. Anele looked up at him with curiosity.
"Only the wealthy Imperials who administer the order in Sentinel have pouches like these," Anele remembered. Then with a ghastly look said, "You didn't steal this, did you?"
"Of course not," Jim Stacey responded with a casual tone, but he knew that he could not explain this. "What does it matter? We have everything settled. Relax. What has been gained is ours now."
Jim Stacey waited for Anele's reaction to his somewhat believable response and noted her stature to calm down a bit. She placed the small pouch upon the battered wood table. Jim Stacey went over to her, holding her small frame in his embrace.
"Come on, let's go to sleep."
Jim Stacey did not fair any better the next morning. In fact, he himself had been quite paranoid since the partaking events yesterday. It was true that that small article of wealth had indeed been stolen with his hand from some anonymous rich man. He felt it was the only option he had left. He loathed seeing his dear Anele and himself living in such poor conditions, always not having enough, working long hours in order to meet Imperial demands. Jim Stacey did not want anymore of it. He felt in his heart that he deserves wealth. He deserved to live comfortably. Not only he, but also all the Redguard population deserved better. Hammerfell had gone down in shambles, but Jim Stacey refused to go down as well. That was the basis for the theft.
Of course, had he told this to Anele, she would have never accepted it.
It was time to work the field out back. Jim Stacey didn't like to work so tediously out in the sun, but if Anele never complained, neither would he. He headed inside the farmhouse to fetch his tools.
A man clad in fine Imperialistic clothing approached the small house as two guards took post outside. It was the tax collector, Mirdinus Claerul. A man not so very popular in those parts.
"Are you the man called Jim Stacey?" Asked the man as though this were his first time in his profession.
"Yes, sir. I am."
"Pardon me, may I come in?" He waited for no response and made his way in, observing the small space that was Jim Stacey's dwelling. His distaste was obvious.
"I've the tax payment, sir. I will get it with no more delay."
Jim Stacey carefully went for the pouch, cautious of the man's watchful eye upon the small bag.
"Quite a fine pouch you have in your possession."
At this, Jim Stacey froze. "T-thank you. From a guar that I had witnessed being killed when I was a child. A gift from my mother." Jim Stacey said as he gave the tax payment to Mirdinus.
"How nice. A Redguard tradition, I'm sure." Mirdinus stared at Jim Stacey sternly. "I had a pouch similar to that one. I'm afraid it had been stolen."
"Oh…bandits, I suppose. Many thefts recently, I believe." Jim Stacey fidgeted.
"Yes, quite. Well, thank you. With this money you help not only all your people, but also the whole of Tamriel." Mirdunis left.
Jim Stacey ran to the window of his home, took a peak behind the weathered tapestry watching Mirdunis walking back to the guards. The tax collector pointed back to his house while talking to the two armored men. Jim made out faintly the words that formed at Mirdunis's mouth:
'He's the one'The two guards nodded, taking the tax collector's leave and began walking toward the farmhouse.
Oh no! thought he. It was his pouch that I've stolen! They were coming to get him! He couldn't go to prison. He could NOT. He was a good man. It was not fair!
There was no other alternative. He HAD to get out of here. He grabbed the troublesome pouch and any other fortune he could find and made a bolt out the door. The guards yelled and wasted no time chasing after the running Redguard. The three ran into the main commercial part of Sentinel, the part of town where the true interaction of people was. Jim Stacey had to lose the guards, but how?
There were masses of people surrounding what appeared to be a busy open market. Jim Stacey managed his way through the crowd, zig zagging and dodging the men close behind. He made his was into an alleyway hoping the guards hadn't seen him.
When the coast was clear, he had finally conjured up his plan. He was going to leave Hammerfell. He only wished to say goodbye to Anele one last time. He'd find her working at the fishmonger's hall like the good woman she was. Poor, poor Anele. He exited the alleyway and back on to the market square where he last saw the guards. Walking his way around, Jim Stacey entered the compartments that reeked with the stench of slaughterfish.
He asked around for Anele but could no afford to waste a minute on waiting. He himself dashed upon to the second level where the storage clerks were. Anele was there, counting shipments of crates to be made overseas.
"Anele!" Jim Stacey exclaimed exasperatedly. He clutched her arms firmly to get her attention.
"Jim, what's wrong?"
"Listen, I may have to go for a while, and I might not be coming back soon…"
"Oh, Jim, stop joking around." She began to try setting herself free from Jim Stacey's gripped hands.
"Listen to me, woman!" He said loudly. "Take this, take this key. I have some saved treasure stored within some tree outside of town. I want you to have it. And for my sake, get out of Sentinel, get out of Hammerfell even!"
"Jim Stacey, have you gone mad?"
"No time to explain, dear. I will miss you." He gave her a quaint kiss on the cheek and ran for the window. He carefully jumped his way down the ground level but had grabbed once again the attention of his pursuers.
Alas, Jim Stacey was just about out of ideas. Where could he go?
Just then he spotted a traveling ship that had departed about a half league away. Having some idea, Jim Stacey made a mad dash. A man who appeared to be the shipmaster could be seen walking upon deck.
"How much to travel along?" Jim Stacey called out as he ran.
"120 gold." Came the far reply. This was an opportunity Jim Stacey could not refuse.
Having paid the shipmaster on board, he immediately entered below decks to avoid being seen from the guards. Out of breath, he slid against the wall as his chest heaved uproariously. A sudden dread came over him. He indeed had gone mad.
However, Jim Stacey was apparently not alone under decks. Having noted various eyes watching him, he could not help but smile at the lot of them and at himself.
"So," He began somewhat out of breath. "Where are we headed?" It was an indirect question he hoped would find an answer.
"Didn't you find out?" Replied an Argonian, one of the few Jim Stacey had ever seen in his life. "This ship's headed for Morrowind."