It was early, but Arran was fairly certain that he'd be thankful for the shade cast by the forest's trees soon enough - walking in the summer was sweaty enough without making it hard for oneself. Well, harder than walking in jury-rigged boots. The other thing that he'd learned so far on this long walk is that he needed some sort of underwear, because the rubbing of his nipples on the his shirts was painful. He couldn't imagine what it would be like if his breasts were bigger. Nice to look maybe, but not nice to have.<br/><br/>Walking along, he came upon an old keep guarding the road. It looked empty. Should it have been empty? He shrugged to himself, then winced as his raw nipples complained. It seemed wasteful to leave a keep empty - but then he was a wannabe adventurer mage, not some fancy pants general.