Tale of a Scaled Knight., An Argonian in High Rock. Options

[jack cloudy]

This probably isn't fair for Tesfiction, but here ya go. A Daggerfall-era story.

Tale of a scaled knight.

Chapter 1: Hunter and prey.

The smell of decomposing plants was enough to give a zombie a headache. Mosquetos buzzed about in thick clouds, landing on every bird, snake or other animal foolish enough to come close. Dead fish floated on the surface of the murky lake. The water bubbled as gas rose up from its depths. A particular mound of mud shuddered slightly, sending the mosquetos into a mad scramble for safety. The mound lay silent then and shortly after, the little insects had forgotten its very existence.

One pair of bloodred eyes gazed up at the castle that sat at the edge of the lake. It was tall, with a round tower at each corner and another at the centre of the keep. Its walls were so overgrown with vines, even the windows had vanished behind thick green tendrils. The pair of eyes had inspected every single stretch of vine over the past three hours. At regular intervals, the eyes had shifted up in search of guards patrolling the walls. But there were no guards, at least none that could be seen. The mound shuddered again, briefly revealing the silhouette of a large creature covered in a thick layer of mud.

Was this castle really the one it had been looking for? The creature’s instinct said it was, but its senses claimed otherwise. There was no sign at all of any inhabitants. No sign at all, except…..all the death it was surrounded by had been fairly recent. That, and the vines growing over the walls were the only plants still left alive in the nearby area. With that knowledge, it remained where it was, till night fell. While there apparently weren’t any guards, it preferred the cover of the night for its plan.

When night fell, the mound rose up and stalked away. The mosquitoes now landed on the crawling creature in search of blood to drink, but the mud proved to be an impassable barrier to their tiny snouts. Often, the creature stopped and scanned the keep before moving on. What was less than a hundred metres, it took nearly an entire hour to cross. Never once did it see a sign of guards.

Now it was up at the base of the vines and stood up completely, balancing on its hind legs. As it rose, it shook off most of the mud, revealing more of its features. It was vaguely humanoid, despite the thick tail and somewhat awkward positioning of its joints. It was covered in simple clothes and with a large curved sword sheathed on its back. This was not just a creature, but a fully sentient being in its own right. It was an Argonian and if one would have had the chance to see the Argonian’s scales beneath the mud, one would realize it was a male Argonian.

He had to get inside the castle, but the front door was overgrown as much as the walls and even if it hadn’t been, he bet it was barred from the inside. No, he would have to scale the walls and find another way inside. Before he proceeded any further though, he reached out behind his back and unsheathed the Dai-Katana he carried with him. He carefully removed the rag he’d wrapped around the hilt and leaned the sword against the vines. He also took off his gloves and threw them on the floor before resheathing the Dai-Katana.

Now, he would have a perfect grip if he was forced to draw the weapon. The Argonian pulled on the vines to test them and began to climb. Unlike his crawl to the keep, he didn’t pause during his climb. If a guard came and looked down, he would see what looked like a pile of mud clinging to the vines. What had been a disguise had now become a dead giveaway. He still hadn’t found any proof of guards, but he wasn’t going to take any chances.

Once at the top, he smoothly vaulted over the edge and drew the Dai-Katana in one swift motion, sending a spray of mud into the air. His eyes drifted from left to right. The courtyard appeared as abandoned as the rest of the castle, except for one thing. The door leading to the central tower was flanked by two burning torches. The Argonian bared his teeth in a feral grin.
“So, you wish to invite me in? Well, I can’t possibly refuse such an invitation.” He hissed into the empty air. He took a second glance at the central tower. Unlike the towers at the corners, there were no vines growing over this one. Also unlike the cornertowers, this one appeared to be constructed to be a comfortable place to live instead of being a near impenetrable barrier. There were a lot of windows, large ones, sealed off with glass. There was a balcony near the top. There were no firingslits, no grooves for boiling oil, no reinforced door. There was nothing in its design to stop an attacking army, or a different kind of intruder.

The Argonian sheathed his sword and leapt down the wall, breaking his fall with a haystack. He then dashed across the open courtyard and begun to climb the walls of the central tower.
“I can’t refuse an invitation, but I won’t walk into your trap.” He thought as he made his way to the balcony. After he’d vaulted over the railing, he drew his Dai-Katana and took a deep breath.
“Alright, I know you’re in this room. You’ve always enjoyed high places.” He whispered before kicking in the door. The Argonian rushed inside, towards the person seated behind the desk.

[jack cloudy]

And more Root. Lot's of talking, more sword-drawing etc. (is there ever an update in this story where Root does not draw his razor?)

Oh, and I had to insert a quick Arthago-reference here.


Chapter 3: Grunt’s work.

“You want me to do what?!” Root slammed both fists down on the wooden table to emphasize his words. The table protested loudly and its legs wobbled dangerously in their sockets. Erick noted how the table trembled and couldn’t help but smile with glee inside.
“This lizard is a strong customer. Perfect. If only I can get past that damn pride of his.” He thought and removed his feet from the same table.

“It’s just as it says on the letter.” The Nord patiently said. Root bared his teeth.
“The letter speaks of a job in this town.” He hissed.
“A job to remove bats from a house.” He continued, leaning heavily on the table with his fists.
“Can’t they do it themselves? Now if we were talking about Goblins, then I would gladly accept the honour. Or a haunting, that would be a task I was willing to accept. But bats, those are below my standing.”

Erick began to laugh.
“Hohoho! You’re a funny guy, aren’t you?” He bellowed. Root merely opened his hands, so that his claws pressed into the table.
“Please enlighten me, and explain to me what’s so funny.” He demanded. The Nord had to wipe the tears out of his eyes before he could answer.
“You don’t seem to get it, do you? You’re a fighter now. A low-ranking fresh recruit. And a fighter takes the job he’s given. You may be a noble back in your stinking swamp. But here, you’re a runt, a meatshield, fodder, a little pawn.” He sneered.
“I warn you, do not insult me.” Root interjected.

Erick turned to face him while subtly inching closer to the massive axe he’d leaned against a wall.
“Oh, what are you going to do? Hack off my head?” He taunted. Root rose up from the table and took a step back towards the door.
“I will evict those bats from their home. Upon my return however, you will either give me a lead or dispense with this foolery and banish me from your guild. Anything else, and I will cut off your head.” The knight threatened. Erick merely shrugged.
“A couple of bats in exchange of a big step towards your goal of slaying Daedra? That’s one harsh deal.” He muttered.
“Think about it.” Root said and left the room, not bothering to close the door behind him.

Once he was gone, Erick slumped back into the room’s only seat and sighed.
“He’s a handful. Strong though. Might just work out, if I don’t pull his strings too much.” He spoke to himself and chuckled.
“But pulling his strings is so damn funny.”


Outside the guild hall, Root let out a sigh of his own.
“Such a despicable person.” He seethed.
“But, I did agree to the deal at first so for now, I will see if he can live up to his promises.” Without lingering any longer, Root made his way to the site of his first mission as a fighter. It wasn’t a long walk. In fact, the client’s home was literally right next to the miniature castle that was the guild hall.
“I wonder why they even bothered to write a letter instead of coming in person. Perhaps it’s protocol.” Root thought and knocked on the door.

“Yes…just a minute. Coming.” A voice came from the inside. Half a minute later, the door opened and a head peeked out, before instantly pulling back again. The door was slammed closed in Root’s face. Grumbling under his breath, the Argonian knocked again.
“Go away, monster!” The shack’s occupant screamed.
“Erick sent me. It has come to his ears that you face a slight dilemma with bats in your abode.” Root called, deliberately talking in a more formal manner. It had the effect he’d hoped for.
“That’s one heck of a vocabulary for a monster. What are you going to do, eat them?” The man asked as he opened the door again. Root shook his head and controlled the urge to grin. He maintained a blank expression instead, as he realized that showing his teeth might scare the small Breton again.

“I have no intention of eating anyone or anything. Would you grant me permission to enter?” He said. The man shrugged and opened the door wider.
“Sure, come in, come in.” He replied. Root stepped through the door and surveyed the scene. A hammock in the far corner, a simple log that served as a table and the house’s only other piece of furniture. Light peering in from countless cracks and gaps in the wall and ceiling. A hard, half-eaten loaf of bread on the log. And huddled on the ceiling in the darkest part of the shack, there were three bats. He also noted that the ceiling was too high for the Breton to reach, and that the bats were of a bloodsucking breed, albeit mostly harmless. Three pairs of gleaming eyes looked back at him, as if the bats were defiantly telling him they would not leave.

Root shrugged and drew his Dai-Katana, which brought the Breton in a state of near panic.
“Wait! Don’t kill me! I know, I lied about being able to pay! Look, I’ll make it up, ok? I’ll get the money, somehow! Just don’t kill me!” He screamed. Root paused to look at him.
“Rest assured, I will lay no finger on you.” He grunted, then flicked the blade towards the bats on the ceiling. With a few gentle nudges, he drove them to the door and outside where they flew off in search of a new hiding place.

His task over, the Argonian sheathed the sword, much to the relief of the Breton.
“Forgive me for asking, but what exactly was the price you were to pay?” He inquired.
“Umm….a hundred septims.” The Breton stammered. Now, Root could no longer maintain his blank expression and he bared his teeth. There wasn’t anything in the shack that suggested the man had even as little as five septims, let stand a hundred.
“A hundred septims. And you could not go lower than that?” He asked. The sight of his sharp teeth unnerved the Breton who moved back till the wall kept him from moving any further.
“I tried, but you insisted on a hundred!” The man whispered. Root sighed.
“There is no need to pay. I will deal with Erick.” He said before leaving and swiftly marching back to the guild hall’s front entrance.

“Damn that Erick. Bossing around the guards, playing me for the fool. All that is fine. But sucking out citizens who can barely afford their bread, is something I can’t forgive! I’ll give him a piece of my mind.” He thought and kicked in the front door.
“ERICK! GET YOUR UNPLEASANT EXTERIOR OVER HERE RIGHT NOW!”




PS: Fair is fair, I decided to show you all where I got the inspiration for Erick's humongous axe on a spear.


It's Shin-Getter 1, dudes!
(For a good-guy mecha, it sure manages to get the demonic look down. Too bad I've only seen it in games, never found the anime.)