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 - As always, you've hit the nail on the head




Previously
The group moved ever closer to Leyawiin, and after spending the day chatting with Olorin, Haa-Rei finally arrived home. A familiar figure awaited him...

Chapter 13

It had been two years since I’d last seen Deeh. The old Argonian hadn’t changed at all. His scales were primarily brown, with a bright band of orange around his head like a crown. This was topped by short spines, not unlike my own. His eyes were a deep orange colour like pools of tree sap.

He was wearing dark green breeches, leaving his feet and upper body bare. A blaze of orange scales spread over his torso. His arms and chest were slightly muscular from a life of manual labour, and patches of his scales were slowly turning translucent as a sign of his age.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, hatchling.” He smiled widely, a lifetime of living among humans made facial expressions come easier to him.

I was unsure what to say. Deeh had looked after me since I first arrived in Cyrodiil around 10 years ago. He was like a father to me, but emotional displays weren’t something I was comfortable with. After a few moments I settled with a simple “Hello Deeh.”

“That’s it? You’re gone for two years, adventuring in Morrowind, and all I get is a ‘hello’?” He paused for a second, a serious expression on his face, before his smile returned and he burst into laughter. Motioning for me to sit down. Scalawag indeed.

It wasn’t long before we were chatting away again, as if I’d never left. Deeh made some tea and listened intently to the tales of my visit to Black Marsh, my time in Morrowind, of my work with the Legion, and of the reason for my return. Finally, I briefly summed up the past few days.

“Well well well. Agent, eh?” Deeh scratched his chin with a clawed hand “Do I have to salute when I see you?” He stood and performed an impressive salutation, before turning to me with a wink. I couldn’t help but laugh, and nearly choked on my tea as a result.

“I’d rather you didn’t.” I paused and looked around “Where’s Amusei?” Deeh had looked after the two of us as if we were brothers, and Amusei had developed a keen knack for getting into trouble.

“Heading to the Imperial City to join the Thieves Guild. I tried to talk him out of it but he’s a stubborn one.” If Deeh was worried, he didn’t show it.

“Well he certainly has the skills for it.” I remembered how Amusei could always sneak up on me, which was no small feat. Deeh had taught us both well, “I’ll try and catch up with him when I go back in a few days.” In truth I wasn’t surprised about his career choice, but knowing him he was bound to do something stupid.

“Just be careful on your adventures, hatchling. There’s something bad coming, mark my words. I’m sure you’ve noticed all the Saxhleel mooching about town.” He waved his hand towards the door, indicating ‘the town’.

“I was going to ask about that. What’s going on?” I poured myself more tea. A delicious blend of Nightshade flowers and tea leaves, with goat's milk to take the bitter edge off.

“Nobody is too sure,” He said with a shrug “but Saxhleel are being called back to The Marsh from all over the Empire.”

He emphasised the word ‘Saxhleel’, the term for Argonians like me born in Black Marsh. Deeh was known as a ‘Lukiul’, or ‘assimilated’, which referred to those who had been born, or spent time living, far from the Hist and had become more disconnected.

“You think it’s the Hist? I only just did the trials, surely I’d be able to feel it too.” The Trials of the Hist was an ancient ceremony, which strengthened the connection to the Ancient trees. I’d communicated with them directly, and it was they who told me to go to Morrowind, and again to come to Cyrodiil. I wasn’t sure how to feel about not being invited to this particular party.

Deeh shrugged again. “Maybe they have something better for you to do? At any rate, there’s something going on and it can’t be good.”

I made a mental note to include this in my next Blades report. Black Marsh might not be completely under Imperial control but it was still significant.

I finished my tea, and returned to my companions at the inn for a quick chat. Jotnar had found them and was eagerly tucking into a pie of some sort, while the others were sharing a bottle of wine and a selection of cheeses. The contrast between the two Nord siblings made me chuckle.

Tomorrow would be spent in town making some last minute supply purchases. Olorin wanted to meet me outside the Mages Guild bright and early.

I returned to Deeh’s house, and after more tea and chatting I retired for the evening.

My room was more or less how I left it. Books piled high on shelves along all of the walls, an oak desk stained with ink and covered in parchment, an empty armor stand, and a large armchair in the corner. It was a small room though, and all that furniture left very little floor space. Less floor I have to sweep.

A large box was the only recent addition. It sat on my bed, and was about the same size as a Bosmer’s bathtub. I recognised it as a package I’d sent from Morrowind several months earlier. Stamps of Imperial postage covered the surface, detailing its journey from city to city.

I opened it carefully. The box contained several books (Almost all of which were about the Dwemer) as well as some carefully wrapped Dwemer artifacts which I’d needed a special licence to transport - the core of a centurion, several pieces of metal, and a sturdy metal cup. (The latter would be accompanying me on adventures. The metal would be brilliant at keeping tea hot without burning my hands.)

Lastly, at the bottom of the box, was my Imperial Legion scout armor. The brown leather lay upon a long undershirt of red fabric, and it had all been reinforced by extra layers of light material. I hung it on the armor stand, and chose to equip the bracers. They were made of the same light but strong leather, but featured no fancy adornments, and no dragon motifs. My arms were protected whilst my hands remained free to move, which would make shooting easier than in a full gauntlet.

Exhausted after a long day, I crawled onto my bed. I’d never been more comfortable, and was looking forward to the rest of our adventure. The uneasiness in my mind was still there, but had been suppressed by tea and good company.

Tomorrow would be an interesting day.

This post has been edited by hazmick: Jul 9 2016, 01:08 AM

[ghastley]

I opened it carefully. The box contained several books (Almost all of which were about the Dwemer) as well as some carefully wrapped Dwemer artifacts which I’d needed a special licence to transport - the core of a centurion, several pieces of metal, and a sturdy metal cup. (The latter would be accompanying me on adventures. The metal would be brilliant at keeping tea hot without burning my hands.)

A couple of things caught my eye in this one paragraph.

I just love the idea that Dwemer stuff needs a licence to export. Should I assume this will factor into the story again later?

I'm confused how a metal cup doesn't burn the hands. Does it have an insulated handle you didn't mention?