Seven, An Aela & Ungarion Prequel Options

[SubRosa]

The inspiration for this story came to me last week. As will probably be evident to many, this is an homage to the masterpiece by Akira Kurosawa. It is my humble attempt to translate that great story to the Elder Scrolls Universe. Following the old adage of striking while the iron is hot, I decided to put the TF on hold while I write this instead. Once I am done, I will get back to the TF, and wrap it up with one more chapter.

This is also a prequel, taking place eight years before the events of the TF, shortly after Aela and Ungarion graduated from the Arcane University.


Seven

Prologue

25th Second Seed, 3E425

Vishta-Zaw slithered through the mud with ease. In fact, he had to take care not to move too quickly, lest he overtake Dark-Eye. The other Naga would look upon that as a challenge for leadership of the company. A challenge that Vishta-Zaw was not ready to make, yet. For while his one-eyed leader's age was beginning to show in the fading color of his once dark green scales, his killing power had not subsided. The way he had dealt with the hackwing the day before had made that clear...

Soon the land began to rise, and the mud turned to drier, hard-packed dirt. That made the going slower for the pack of Nagas. Where folk with two legs had an easy time on such ground, it was more difficult for his race to propel themselves upon their serpentine lower halves. Unlike ordinary snakes, they had a torso, head, and arms to balance aloft above their thick tails. It was much easier moving through the swamp's water and muck, where their tails could whip them forward at speed. Yet still they managed without complaint. The latter was a sign of weakness, and weakness was not tolerated in Dark-Eye's company.

In time they topped a ridge and Dark-Eye came to a halt. Vishta-Zaw slithered up beside his leader and followed his one-eyed gaze down into the valley below. Stretched out there in the small, oval-shaped bowl of land stood the settlement of Agrigento, a collection of simple timber and reed homes raised up on stilts in the traditional Argonian fashion. At the center of the village rose a tall structure of the Imperial style. It's walls were entirely of stone, pierced by numerous windows filled in with hinged glass panes, and topped by a roof of glazed red tiles. A fence of simple woven reeds bordered the settlement, and beyond that water-logged rice paddies stretched in all directions. Dykes of hard-packed dirt spread out in a grid through the fields, dividing them up into numerous flooded squares.

Imperials, they just loved to impose their straight lines, squares, and rectangles upon everything. They seemed to think that their geometry would somehow bring them closer to the gods. Any Naga could have told them that nothing on Nirn was straight and neat. All their efforts did was separate them from nature. The Naga wizard knew that would only doom them to extinction. It was only a matter of time.

His eyes fell upon the Imperials laboring in the rice paddies. They went barefoot through the water, wearing simple dark tunics and conical reed hats to ward off the sun. Alongside them toiled their tamed Argonians. Once the Saxhleel had been a strong, proud people, Vishta-Zaw mused. But like so many of them now, these had abandoned the ancient ways of the deep swamp, and now what had they become? They were little more than slaves for the smoothskins. The Naga race would never fall so low.

"They are bringing in their crop," Dark-Eye observed. "Good, I grow thirsty."

"It will take them time to dry and husk the rice," Vishta-Zaw leaned against his staff, which was tipped with a large chunk of flame-red crystal. "Then they will need more time to brew their soju."

"To brew our soju," the chieftain corrected him. The side of his head that faced the wizard was gouged with deep scars leading through the ruin of his eye socket, which was covered with a jeweled eye-patch.

Dark-Eye turned to level his remaining indigo eye upon his lieutenant, and then the gang of other Nagas behind them. "We will give them six weeks," he cried. "Then we will return to wet our throats, and have some sport!"

That brought a chorus of assenting hisses from the other bandits. Some banged their spears against the rims of the small, bone shields. Others simply stabbed their weapons skyward in expectation of the revelry.

* * *

Hathei held his breath until the Nagas had gone. Even then he still waited, just in case any of them returned, or were still lurking in the shadows of the trees. Magnus crawled through the sky, and several lesser creatures crawled across the Argonian's washed out yellow-brown scales. Still he waited, not moving an inch, in the way that only his race could do.

Finally Hathei rose up from his belly and stood straight. His gaze darted through the trees that lined the top of the ridge, seeking anything out of place. Yet there came no hisses or croaks of discovery, no spears came flying out to pierce his scales, and no magicka crackled to snuff out his life.

The aging Argonian was thankful for the bundle of reeds that was slung over his back. If not for them, surely the Nagas would have seen him. He had been lying on his stomach, just inches from their bellies, with only the camouflage of those reeds between him and certain death. Now that bundle of reeds slowed him down as he turned and ran for the village below. He was tempted to throw them aside so that he might run faster. But he knew he would only have to return for them later. At his age, he did not have the energy to do the same thing twice. So he labored on, as farmers always do.

His mind whirled as he made his way down the slope of the valley to the settlement below. They were coming back, again! They would take all of the soju, just like the last time, and the time before. Worse, the Nagas might take another of the women again, just as they had Rullianus' wife. What had been left of her after they had finished would have made a butcher sick. Who would they take next? His own daughter Meen-Sa?

No, not Meen-Sa. He could not let that happen to her. They had to do something this time. They just had to.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: May 5 2019, 11:00 PM

[SubRosa]

Acadian: Good eye on Stalk's out of place "at". Never trust those shifty Argonians...

I picture little port towns along all the mouths of the rivers that flow into eastern Niben Bay. I believe its all part of Bravil County, so I would expect there to be a lot of travel going through them to little farming villages all along the east bank of the Bay. The rivers themselves make excellent avenues for trade and transport of course. So they would probably be spines around which civilization would grow.

Arcane Adventurers, I have to remember that one!


haute ecole rider: Telamon is on the north side of the mouth of the Panther River. Unlike in the game, my Panther river is large enough for boat traffic, like the Ohio or Tennessee. I see large ships traveling from Telamon across the Bay to Bravil and other cities, while barges and other flat bottomed boats go up the river itself.

Of course Aela is primping! A girl always has to be conscious of how she looks. And Aela is more self-conscious than most.

The cost of tuition is a big part of what drives both Aela and Ungarion in this early tale. It made them become adventurers in fact. I expect the Arcane University is no different than any modern top tier university, like Harvard, Yale, Cambridge, etc... So it would not be cheap! I look forward to seeing how you handle that with Julian in "The White-Haired Redguard goes to School."


ThatSkyrimGuy: I actually find it easier to invent things than to go according to what Bethesda sets down. It lets me follow a consistent vision. While Bethesda created a wonderful playground for us to play our characters in, they did not really put a lot of thought into building a culture.


McBadgere: I was originally going to write something like "Imperial red tape" but I just could not resist the nod to Obi-Wan there.


King Coin: Aela and Ungarion are fun to write. There little discussion at the beginning gave me the opportunity to show how different they are as magicians. Not to mention the fun in their relationship. That was actually a Restoration spell to fortify Ungarion's Personality. I was not sure how else to describe making someone seem more magnetic and charismatic.


Previously On Seven: Out last episode introduced us to Aela and Ungarion, who were returning from a successful bandit-slaying expedition Morahame. They met four of the villagers from Agrigento, who tried to hire them to defend their village from the Naga bandits. A&U turned them down however, as they were busy selling off their loot and headed for Bravil. The Agrigentans were going the same way however, and Ungarion implied that they might help them once their business was finished.


Chapter 1.2

Aela munched on a hot piada filled with grilled chicken, diced tomatoes, cheese strips, and bursting with extra flavor thanks to a sprinkling of basil. It was far too good for street fare, and she vowed to return to this hot food stand whenever she was in Bravil.

The rumble of laughter from a deep throat caused Aela to turn her head. Across the street from the table where she and Ungarion sat were their acquaintances from Agrigento. Towering above them was the largest Nord she had ever seen, wearing mail armor and sporting a battle-axe nearly as long as he was tall.

"You scalebacks make me laugh!" the blond giant guffawed. He slapped Stalks-The-Marshes on the back with enough force to send the poor Argonian stumbling away. Then the Nord lumbered off down Silver Avenue while the other Agrigentans stared in shock and dismay.

"It seems our friends from Agrigento are not doing so well with their plan to hire mercenaries," Ungarion dryly observed through a bite of his own flatbread sandwich. "Perhaps we should lend our assistance?"

"Are you planning to pay off Fathis Ules with rice?" Aela shook her head and took a sip of wine from the worn cup the food stand had provided. It was far from Tamika's, but at least it was not water or stale beer. "In case you have forgotten, our education did not come for free."

"Thanks to the bandits at Morahame, we have enough gold in the temple to keep Fathis off our backs for months," Ungarion insisted. "Besides, given how those bandits paid out, I expect we will be making more than rice and soju from this quest."

"There are forty of them," Aela pointed out. "Don't you think that's a bit much for even us?"

"All the more for us to loot afterward," Ungarion grinned. "Besides, we can conjure up a few mules to even up the odds."

Aela shook her head. She knew there was nothing she could say to sway the Altmer's mind. She had the feeling that it was not even the promise of loot that had set the hook in the wizard's mouth. Rather it was his sense of adventure. She had known him long enough to realize that he would do this sort of thing just for the fun of it alone. The money was only an added incentive.

The next thing the Breton Witch knew, her friend was waving the four Agrigentans over to the table where they sat. Aela ate the last of her piada in silence as they crowded around, drawing stares from many of the other patrons of the food stand.

"How goes your recruitment efforts?" Ungarion asked.

"I am afraid you just saw how well," Ulpia frowned. "We even had an audience with Count Domitianus, but he will not send troops across the border into another province. We tried the Fighters Guild this morning. With an orc for a guild commander, I thought they would be eager to fight. But they turned us down as well."

"These ones have done no better at hiring individual mercenaries either," Hathei lamented with a down-turned head. "No one will help us."

"Fear not," Ungarion declared. "Aela and I have discussed it, and we are with you."

Aela just shook her head again as she chewed the last bite of her basil-flavored chicken sandwich.

"Good!" Rullianus practically boomed. "It's about time we found someone around here with stones."

"Oh, it's not the stones that are the problem," Ungarion rose to his feet. "It's a matter of finding the right people, at the right time, in the right way."

"And with the right amount of hunger," Aela added.

Ungarion ignored the quip, and continued. "First, you need to stop asking people off the street. That is never going to work. They are either going to laugh at you like that Nord, or you're going to end up with some cutthroat who will kill you in your sleep at the first opportunity."

"So where do we find these people?" Ulpia asked. "I thought surely the Fighters Guild or the castle would conjure up any number of warriors."

"The Fighters Guild has their bottom line to think of," Aela said, standing up beside Ungarion. "This is a contract that is going to tie up their resources for a long time. So it has to pay their expenses for that entire period. You just don't have the money for that, and they cannot gamble on the loot from the bandits making up the difference."

"What we need are people who are footloose," Ungarion said, "not tied down with families to support, rent to pay, that sort of thing. That is why old Ghabruz at the Fighters Guild turned you down. Our prospects will be folk who can just pick up and wander to another province at the drop of a hat."

"So where can they be found?" Rullianus asked.

"Why at the tavern of course!" Ungarion smiled.

With that the high elf led the Agrigentans across the city, not to an aleshop, but rather to every swordsmith, armorer, bowyer, and weapons trader. There they left word that they were looking for experienced fighters. After making the tour around the city, they finally did go to a tavern, and naturally not the one Aela would have preferred.

The Lonely Suitor Lodge was a wooden scar rising three stories into Bravil's skyline. The paint was peeling from its ramshackle walls, and in many places shutters were missing from its windows. The inside was little better. The common room was divided into front and back sections by a 'U'-shaped bar that ran out from a stairway on the left. Surrounding it was a sea of tables and chairs of stained and chipped wood. Even at mid-day, there were plenty of seedy-looking individuals hunched over tankards. The smell of it, and their unwashed bodies, made Aela's nose wrinkle in disgust. She was tempted to cast a Bloom spell upon everyone in the place, but had no doubt that would start a brawl.

"These ones will find warriors in this place?" Stalks-The-Marshes was evidently less impressed with the inn than Aela.

"This is where all of Bravil's toughs, thugs, mercenaries, killers, and generally unfriendly people congregate." Ungarion found them a table and motioned for them all to sit. Aela made sure that she had a chair with a wall at her back. Just in case.

"So how do these ones separate the good rice from the husks?" Hathei asked.

"Well now, that's the trick isn't it?" Ungarion smiled as an orc waitress came by with a pitcher of ale and another of what he imagined was wine. She set them down upon the table and handed a mug to each of them.

"Ale or wine?" she asked. Given her expression, Aela imagined that she must be the most bored person in all of Tamriel.

"Don't you have any flin?" Ulpia asked.

"We don't serve that here anymore," the orc said sourly. "Starts too many fights. So you get ale, or you get wine."

Aela chose the cheap wine, as did Ungarion and the Imperial woman. The others chanced the ale. Given their winces after taking their first sips, the Witch imagined that they were all equally disappointed with their choices.

"Who serves wine in a mug?" Ungarion shook his head as he started down at his drink. "Anyway, as I was saying, we need to be choosy…"

"Good thing we came here," Aela said dryly.

"…about the people we hire," Ungarion continued as if she had not spoken. "Most of those in here belong to one of the three gangs that run Bravil's underworld. The Suitor is neutral ground, the only place they can meet without killing one another. Take that orc back there in the corner, that's Kurdan gro-Dragol, the enforcer for the Damodar gang. He'd kill us all if he saw a septim in it."

"If everyone knows these ones are criminals, why does not the city guard come and arrest them all?" Hathei stared wide-eyed around them.

"Count Domitianus tries," Aela said. "But every time the guard squashes one gang, it creates an opening for another one. Before you know it, that one moves in and takes over, or a brand new one sprouts up in its place."

"Like roaches," Rullianus frowned. "No matter how many you step on, there's always one more."

"So what do we do now?" Ulpia asked.

"I don't see anyone here I trust, so we wait to see who comes to take our bait." Ungarion pulled out a deck of cards from one pocket. "Who wants to try a game of whist?"

Aela sat out of the card game, as did Ulpia. If they had been in better circumstances, she would have meditated. Communing with Nirn Spirits always made her feel better. Not to mention that as a conjurer, she always needed to nurture her relationships with the spirits. The Aedra did not serve because they were forced to, but rather because they wanted to. But The Lonely Suitor was not a place that she dared to let down her guard. She had already gotten more unpleasant stares than she would like.

So she was surprised when a friendly face came through the door. A Pahmar Khajiit, the newcomer bore the orange fur and black stripes of his breed. Also like the others of his birth-moons, his eyes were yellow and bore round irises. He wore the traditional lamellar armor of his race: a cuirass of small black lacquered plates sewn together with blue cord, with similar pieces covering his shoulders, arms and hips. A composite bow made of tan-colored bone and black minotaur horn was slung in a gorytos at one hip, along with a forest of reed arrowshafts. A Dwemer war axe hung from his other hip. So too did, a small, round buckler of Dwemer steel, emblazoned with a black scorpion.

screenshot

"Do'Sakhar!" Aela waved to the newcomer, and his golden eyes lit up with pleasant surprise as he met her gaze. The feline glided to the table where they all sat, and Aela motioned for the others to make room for him. Taking an empty chair from another table, the Khajiit spun it around and hunkered down beside the Breton Witch, with his forearms resting upon the backrest.

"This one is most pleased to see you Aela!" the tiger-striped Khajiit declared. "How has that goldenrod been treating you?"

"Oh, he's a handful, as always," Aela smiled with genuine delight.

"The goldenrod is sitting right here you know…" Ungarion rolled his eyes.

"Oh, this one had thought it was a tall stick of butter," Do'Sakhar grinned, revealing a set of long fangs. "And how are you this fine summer day Ungarion? Still smuggling banned books?"

"Oh no, not since we graduated," Aela smiled.

"Well, I still have my contacts," Ungarion insisted. He straightened up his collar, and did his best to make himself look distinguished.

"So you did graduate!" the feline's eyes lit up with delight. "Congratulations! There was never one so deserving of it as yourself. Especially after all of the trials and tribulations placed in your way."

"Hey, it wasn't a walk in the Arboretum for me either…" Ungarion said dryly.

"And who are your new friends?" Do'Sakhar asked, looking around the table.

"These are our employers," Aela said. "In fact, there's room for more, if you're interested."

"Oh I am sure he is far too busy," Ungarion waved one hand in dismissal. "Coughing up hairballs, treating mange, a cat's work is never done."

"This one should be glad to accompany you upon any quest Aela," Do'Sakhar smiled. "If only for the pleasure of civilized company."

This post has been edited by SubRosa: May 5 2019, 11:04 PM