An Argonian's Account, Haa-Rei's adventures in Cyrodiil Options

[hazmick]

Chapter 1

The room was furnished as most high ranking Imperial offices were – dragons everywhere. Dragon curtains (red), dragon floor mat (red), dragon banners (red). I wouldn't be surprised if the guards outside were wearing socks (red) with little dragons on them.

“So we just need to go over a few things here,” the clerk’s piping voice interrupted my thoughts. He studied the notes in front of him “you were born 3E 408?”

“Yes.” I wasn't half as nervous as I thought I’d be, but my mouth was almost too dry to speak.

“Our first official record of you is not until 19 years later. An Imperial prison transport fished you out of the Inner Sea of Morrowind and took you to the port of Seyda Neen. Yes?”

He didn’t look up from his notes, instead arching an enormous grey eyebrow. There was more hair on those brows than on the rest of his head.

“Yes.” Though my mouth was still dry my hands were now clammy. Please gods don’t make him go in for a handshake when this is done.

“Your occupation is listed here as ‘adventurer’. You also seem to have aided the Twin Lamps organisation, among others.” He licked a bony fingertip and turned the page. “This is around the time that you officially joined the Imperial Legion, rising to the rank of Agent.”

“That’s right.” My face reddened slightly when he looked up at me. Apparently a ‘yes’ would suffice.

He took a sip of his drink, a dark gold substance, and winced slightly as it went down. How anybody can enjoy that sort of thing was beyond me. I much prefer tea.

Looking back to his notes, the clerk continued listing various people I’d met who were considered important enough to have an opinion. Mainly guild leaders and Imperials.

I managed to steal a glance at the page, most of which was concealed with black ink.

“Well this seems to be in order. On account of your previous work for the Empire and the skills you have at your disposal, I have no doubt that you will do some good with us.” He stamped my file for approval with an official looking dragon stamp (red).

I grinned widely (any display of emotion towards humans must be greatly exaggerated) and thanked him as he shook my hand firmly.

“Welcome to the Blades, Agent Haa-Rei.”

This post has been edited by hazmick: Jul 9 2016, 01:03 AM

[hazmick]

Acadian - Thanks for the tip, and (as always) the encouragement.

I've always liked Bravil - there are some really nice people living there. (and some not-so-nice people, but we don't concern ourselves with them)


mALX - Thankyou so much for stopping by. Your writing has always been one of my inspirations for fanfiction, and it's such a shame that I can't repay the favor. I hope you can read it one day, but if not I'll always keep updating everyone with Haa-Rei's adventures in other parts of Chorrol.




Previously:
Haa-Rei, Olorin, Jotnar, and Sjofn arrived in Bravil. The next stop on their journey to the Ayleid ruin of Atatar. Leaving the others to their festivities, Haa-Rei took the opportunity to explore Bravil and located an archery shop which he plans to visit in order to find a new bow.

Chapter 10

There was a chill in the air when I awoke the next morning. I decided to forgo the poor excuse for tea that Silverhome offered and made my way towards the archery establishment I’d seen earlier.

My progress was slow as the early morning was made considerably worse by a shower of freezing rain, meaning that I was even more sluggish than usual. I would have preferred an extra hour or two (or three) in bed, but our party was heading out soon. The life of an adventurer is truly full of trials.

After a rather embarrassing amount of time I finally made it to The Archer’s Paradox – a mid-sized shack perched on the far side of Bravil. Were it not for the sign outside it could be easily mistaken for another home.

It was warm and inviting inside, with a roaring fire on the far side of the room to stave off the damp. The main feature of the shop was a low counter, showing off an incredible range of bows and arrows. Behind the counter was an old Bosmer, dressed in hunter’s leggings and jerkin. The latter was open and sleeveless as if to show off his surprisingly muscular arms and chest. He smiled warmly as I closed the door behind me.

“The Archer’s Paradox. Because a perfect arrow flies forever, and that’s impossible. I’m Daenlin, and I have no perfect arrows.” The speech was obviously rehearsed, but he was so cheerful that it sounded as if he’d just come up with it and I was the first person he’d rushed over to share it with.

“Hello. Haa-Rei.” My brain struggled to conjure up the strength for a proper greeting. By the Hist, I must sound like a complete moron.

“Ah don't worry, my boy. Here.” He disappeared towards the fireplace for a moment and returned with a steaming cup.

Oh no, not Bravil tea. Please let it be ok.

Clearly Silverhome had cornered the market on poor teacraft. If Daenlin’s bows were as good as his beverages, I was about to be a very happy lizard.

The Bosmer waited patiently while I sipped at the tea. I could feel myself warming up, and after a couple of minutes I was ready for conversation.

“Ah. Thank you. I’m still getting used to early mornings. My name is Haa-Rei.”

“I know the feeling. Rain plays havoc with my knees these days as well. Anyway, what can I do for you today Haa-Rei?” For a moment I felt as if we’d been friends for years.

“Oh right. I’m looking for a new bow.” I retrieved the pieces of my current bow from my pack, and laid them on the counter.

“Poor thing,” The aging Bosmer ran his hands over the ex-weapon, as one would to comfort a dying animal. “I could repair it in a couple of hours, but you’d be better off getting a new one – this one isn’t quite the right size for you.” Right size for me? Is this a Bosmer thing?

He reached under the counter and presented me with an iron bow. It was perhaps an inch longer than my previous weapon, and had spots of rust here and there.

“How does that size feel? A bow isn’t just a weapon, it’s a companion. If you’re not compatible with it you won’t be able to unlock its true potential. Size is a good starting point.”

“It’s good. I think. It feels…right?” Compatible? True potential? Is he adding a little something to his tea?

“Excellent. Now that’s just a training bow to gauge the right length. The bow I have in mind for you…” He vanished into an adjoining room, and returned a few minutes later with a bow-shaped cloth package.

He placed it reverently on the counter and carefully removed the cloth.

“I’ve had this bow for a while, but never found the right customer. This is-“

“Hist!” I couldn’t believe my eyes.

For those that may be wondering why I was so surprised, Hist trees can’t be harvested like other plants. First; they wouldn’t allow it. Second; local Argonians wouldn’t allow it. Third; they’re incredibly tough.

Sometimes though, on rare occasions, every so often, a Hist would gift some wood. They might ask someone to take some, or drop a branch onto the ground for someone to take. This was the only way to acquire proper Hist wood. Even then, it takes a master craftsman to make something out of it. Of all the places to find some…

“Exactly. It was given to me years ago. Here, try it.” He handed me the bow like it was a newborn baby.

The dark wood felt almost warm to the touch, and the weight was perfect. It was just heavy enough, and fit my hand as if it had been made specifically for me. It even smelled like Hist. An indescribable scent that made me feel calm and comfortable. The wood must have been treated with Hist sap and was flexible, but strong.

Daenlin began to explain that the innate magic of The Hist kept the wood in shape, (meaning that I wouldn’t have to faff about with stringing and restringing all the time) when it suddenly dawned on me that such a magnificently perfect bow would most likely cost the same as a small house. I had just enough gold for a decent quality hunting bow, but it would take me years to afford this.

The old Bosmer seemed to read my mind:

“It would be quite pricey in any other shop. To be honest though I make enough money to keep me going, and it would be an insult to the bow to put it back in the other room to gather dust. I’ll give it to you in exchange for this broken one you brought in.” He held out his hand to finalize the deal.

A Histwood bow in return for a broken pile of junk? I’d made my decision.

“Sorry Daenlin, but I can’t do that. I can’t take something so valuable from you without paying for it properly.”

The Wood Elf let out a laugh:

“My dear boy, you are definitely the right man for this weapon. Very well, as payment for this bow I will take your broken one now, and the next time you’re in Bravil you will clear out the ruin of Anutwyll and visit me again for a cup of tea and a chat.” He held out his hand again, and this time I shook it.

“Deal.”

This post has been edited by hazmick: Jul 9 2016, 01:07 AM