Chapter Two: The Journey to the Imperial City
When I awoke, Quick-Strike was stroking a fire. It was cold in the mornings by the ocean. “Quick-Strike, I think if we go to the Imperial City, we can talk to some informants and get some information on the Imperium Tong,” I said as I looked in the mirror. I realized for a second, I was only in a loincloth and brassiere and grabbed a blanket to cover myself.
“Relax,” the Argonian stated. “I will not stare.” After a moment, I released it, my hair was a mess and I needed to bathe. I looked around for my armor and bow, but to no avail.
“Where is my armor and my bow?” I asked curiously. “I would really like to have them.”
Quick-Strike tossed her a knapsack, “Don’t wear it, we want to be inconspicuous. In the bag there are some folded up clothes, wear them. J’skooma has your bow in a Wizard’s Chest, as well as your armor.”
I looked in the bag and pulled out the contents. A white blouse with a brown vest, doeskin shoes, and a light, brown skirt were the contents of the bag. “You expect me to wear this?” I asked. “You’ve got to be kidding; I’m a rogue, a thief, an agent, not some girly merchant.”
“I’ll be going in with a green, flax tunic; coarse, linen pants; and no shoes. I am as unhappy as you, but we must go in incognito,” Quick-Strike explained. “Not many people will talk to adventurers about the Imperium Tong, but gossip amongst other people is fine.”
With a deep sigh, I stepped into the skirt and pulled it up. I put on the blouse and buttoned it up and over it went the vest. I put on the shoes and smiled a little, “This is quite a comfortable outfit.”
“I’ve worn it many times when I was trying to assassinate a Daedra worshipper who had too tankards of ale.” Quick-Strike glanced at J’skooma who wore his usual attire. The Argonian changed into his attire and they started walking.
After about six hours, we reached the Imperial City. The sun was high in the sky and extremely hot, but I didn’t complain. The guards held their halberds perpendicular. The one on the left asked, “What’s your business, Bosmer?”
“My father is ill,” I lied. “We’re here to get medicine.”
“Very well,” he said. “You may enter.” They pulled open the doors and I walked into the Talos Plaza. A plethora of people wandered the streets. I scurried into a tavern and saw an elderly Imperial woman drinking. Her hair was dull-gray, her face was wrinkled, and her eyes lacked luster.
“Madam?” I asked. “Are you alright?”
She stood up and looked into my eyes for a second. She hugged me tightly. “They killed him, Martin was such a good son, and now he’s dead.”
“Who killed Martin?”
“The Imperium Tong, those bloody scum, they killed my boy,” she sobbed. “A thousand blights upon their kingpin.”
I gently patted her on the back and noticed my white blouse was wet with tears. A patron came over to me and whispered, “I heard you talking about the Imperium Tong, come up to my room if you want information.”
The patron was a middle-aged Dunmer with graying hair. He climbed the shoddy stairs, heading to his room. I followed after him hastily. Once we reached his room, he said to me, “You want information? I want a night in bed with you.”
“You swine,” I screamed in his face. “You’re foul, Ashen-born.”
He grabbed me and threw me on the bed, but as I fell, I kicked him in the jaw. This pig was trying to assault me, I don’t know what women he was used to, but I wasn’t one of them. The Dunmer pulled out a silver dagger and hissed, “Take off your clothes or I’ll slit your throat. I’m an Imperium Tong Enforcer. I could have you killed, Sap-Child.”
Obediently, I slid out of my skirt, but the door opened and I saw an ebony short-sword emit from the man’s chest. “We need to leave, now,” Quick-Strike ordered.
Marching up the stairs were Imperial Legionaries, I pulled up my skirt and dived out the window. I hit the ground… Hard. It hurt, but I got up and started running. Quick-Strike and J’skooma were nowhere to be seen.
I looked around and saw a mob of guards. I cut into an alleyway and a gloved hand covered my mouth. I tried to scream, but I couldn’t. The last thing I knew a sack was put over my head and a club hit the back of my skull…
This post has been edited by Zalphon: Jul 24 2010, 04:41 AM
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"You have the same twenty-four hours as me; don't be mad just because you don't use yours like I do." -Tupac Shakur
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