Cloak and Dagger, A Fan-Fiction Options

[Zalphon]

Prologue

3E 420

“Naïlo,” the Hlaalu Guard asked. “Did Stacey give you the package?” I opened the satchel at my hip and pulled out the box of drakes. I handed it to the Dunmer in Bonemold Armor. He reached for it and nodded.

“Now then, the Hlaalu Guards will turn a blind eye to the Thieves’ Guild activities in Balmora?” I asked. “That is the deal.” The deal had been in place for five years, ever since the Raynil Orayn became the leader of local Hlaalu in Balmora. The truth was simple: he was like every other Hlaalu, a corrupt, greedy thug.

I walked towards the bridge to the South Wall Corner Club. In the alleys, Skooma-addicts smoked away their money. This was Balmora, the real Balmora. It wasn’t uncommon for an outlander to disappear or a Skooma-addict to sell everything he owned down to the clothes off his back for another bottle of those precious crystals.

Habasi smiled as I crossed the bridge. “Did they receive the ‘package’?” she asked inquisitively. With a nod, I saw that smile grow from ear to ear. She patted me on the back and opened the door for me.

“Good job, Naïlo.”

“Sugar-Lips, it’s my duty to the Guild.”

“Sugar-Lips thinks you’re a good kid, Naïlo,” the Khajiit stated as we walked down the stairs. “Stacey would like you to see you, Ashborn.”

I strode over to the door with a sign: “Private Room” and knocked. When the door opened, a Redguard in exquisite clothes answered the door. He had light brown hair that was combed back. “Naïlo, you’ve been with the Guild for a few years now.”

“Y-yes, S-sera,” I stuttered. “I-I have been with the G-guild for some time.” This was the first time I had ever seen Gentleman Jim Stacey in the flesh. I had once received orders from him to deliver a package to the Hlaalu Council House, but only once.

“Relax, kid. I’ve got some good news for you. I’m officially promoting you to Wet Ear.”

“W-what are you serious?” I asked.

“Yes and with your new rank, I’ll need you to travel to Ald’ruhn to take orders from Relam Arinith, our ranking member there. He has needed someone to help him out with a few jobs,” Stacey grinned. “You think you can handle it, Kid?”

“Y-yes I can,” I nodded like an obedient child. “Can you pay for me to take a silt strider to Ald’ruhn?”

The human looked around for a moment then he finally came to a conclusion. “Tell him Stacey said if he gives you free passage to Ald’ruhn we’re even,” he ordered. “The next silt strider to Ald’ruhn is in the morning, so rest up.”

I walked out and the bartender tossed me a loaf of bread. “Have a good trip, Naïlo.” I had to walk forward to grab it; the Imperial never was a good judge of distance. With a hefty bite out of it, I made my way towards my room. The room had a cloth rug, a pillow and a blanket.

I lied down on the rug and put my head on the pillow. “Finally a member of the guild,” I whispered to myself proudly…

[Zalphon]

Chapter One: Ald’ruhn, City of Untold Mystery

I awoke after a good night of rest. When I opened my eyes, I could smell the delectable scent of freshly roasted Nix Hound steak coming from the bar. I pushed the blanket down and walked out of my room. Sugar-Lips grabbed me and whispered, “Sugar-Lips will always be here for you, Naïlo.”

I didn’t doubt it, either. Sugar-Lips was like my big sister, always watching out for her ‘little brother’. Stacey walked out and nodded and returned to his office. I stepped up the stairs wearing a bittersweet, false smile.

Hercinde, a gold-skinned elf nodded and said, “Put those skills I taught you to good use in Ald’ruhn. Remember, there’s much more to Ald’ruhn than it appears, Naïlo.” I was going to ask him what that meant, but as soon as I opened my mouth, he had put a vial to his lips and his body was invisible.

As I pushed the door open, I felt a dagger through my heart. This is what it felt like to turn your back on your family. I had to force myself to walk forward, the entire time I wanted to turn back. I wiped a tear from my eye and whispered under my breath, “May Boethia watch over you…”

I walked up the ramp to the Silt Strider Master. He was a well-groomed, elderly man who stated, “The silt strider is headed to Ald’ruhn, not a place to go unless you’re a Redoran or wish to join House Redoran.”

“Gentleman Stacey said you’d give me passage and the debt would be paid off,” I replied coolly. He smiled and told me to step into the hollowed out shell of the beast. It moaned loudly in anguish, I was used to the sound, but never so close. The cry echoed throughout the hollow shell.

A few minutes passed when an Argonian Outlander stepped into the beast’s shell. He was covered in low-grade Netch-Leather and in his right hand he held a spear made of steel. “Dunmer,” the Argonian greeted. “You’re going to Ald’ruhn? You look too soft.”

“I could say the same to you, Argonian,” I replied. “You wear poor netch-leather and a spear. You look like a slave who recently got away from the grasp of their owner.” In truth, my tone was calm, but condescending.

“You’re a brave Dark Elf,” the Beast-Man stated. “I like you. When I join House Redoran, I’ll remember to make sure that you’re protected. I’d advise you join House Redoran, too.”

What could I say to that? That I was a Thieves’ Guild Operative? No. “No thanks. I’m an egg miner.” The lie was solid and believable, but would he take it? He raised his spear and pulled it back, motioning for me to come closer.

“I am Hue-Geh,” he said. “I was exiled from Argonia for my crimes against the treacherous Murkwater Conclave.” It was hard to make out what he said between the loud shrieks of anguish of the Silt Strider.

“The Murkwater Conclave? Who are they?”

“They’re an organization of my people born under the sign of the Mage. They sell our eggs and our people to House Dres,” the Argonian scowled. “I am eager to join House Redoran so that one day I may take my vengeance on the traitors.”

The Silt Strider Master stepped in and shouted, “We leave for Ald’ruhn. We should be there within the hour.” His voice was strained and hardly contained. The man was obviously under a lot of stress, it could be seen in his eyes and in his tone.

I noticed myself slide back as the shell tilted downward. Suddenly, it hopped into the air; the blood drained from my face. Then I felt the crashing against the ground as I was lifted from the bottom of the shell up a few feet and then back down. The Argonian walked over to me and grabbed my hand while it was still. He put my hand on some of the hairs of the Silt Strider and sat back down.

The next hop wasn’t near as frightening, because I didn’t move so much. It was one hop after another, over and over for what felt like a quarter of an hour. Then it stopped and the beast moaned. I stepped out and noticed the very archaic architecture of House Redoran. The crab-like structures looked like they were made from actual shells.

With a step out of the Silt Strider, I was pelted by granules of ash against my face, my arms, and my exposed ankles. I quickly ran down the steps to find shelter. Down below I found a yurt which I charged into.

“Welcome to Ald’ruhn, Sera,” the Dunmeri Woman stated. “How may I help you?” She had mannequins in tan and silver face-wraps, linen tunics, thick, silk skirts, gloves that were made from weaved strips of cloth and wrapped boots.

“Do you have anything to protect me from the storm?”

She pointed to the mannequins. “Sera, I’m a male,” I alerted her because maybe her eyes were bad. “I don’t wear feminine clothing. Especially considering I am associated with many Western People”

“House Redoran wears these items to keep them safe from the storms,” she explained. “You can wear them or be eaten away by the storm. Here, we can trade. I get people leaving willing to buy exotic clothes like yours all the time.”

I stripped down to my loin-cloth and handed her my clothes. She handed me a pile of clothes. I wrapped the strips of cloth around my hands and feet. I pulled down the tunic and pulled up the skirt. With a sigh, I wrapped the strip of cloth that was the face-mask around my head, leaving only space for my eyes. The clothes I wore were silver in color, which I guess meant status.

I looked at the signs on the buildings, most were trade houses or shops. I came across a club called: “The Rat in the Pot”. When I shut the door behind me, I knew that the law and order of House Redoran was out there. A Dunmer grabbed me by my throat and asked, “What’s the password?”