A small break is just what everyone needed. Off week was timed perfectly this month, starting right after a rough, long, and taxing mission. Everyone was crowding the bars and there were already groups of soldiers who were slated for the drunk tank. Men and women on tables, dancing and drinking, some starting fights, all of which were things that Keegan was supposed to keep from happening.

He didn't care. Not when his deity was showing off on the dancefloor. Not a drop of alcohol, not for such a holy figure, moving as if the heavens had come down to praise at the feet that refused to stay still. Keegan wanted to drop to his knees and pray for a small amount of attention.

A temple to rival all others, and yet it was here for all to see, for all to touch and worship. Blasphemers, heathens in his eyes, that dared to touch the finely crafted walls and lay eyes on the oracle that Keegan alone was appreciative enough to even breath the same air as.