The adventures of Arthago chapter III, A Province united Options

[Agent Griff]

Another update my dear readers. As some of you may know, I've started playing Oblivion again. This time, I have a wonderful rig and the best mods out there so what I'm playing really is the optimal Oblivion experience. I have OOO, about six of the Unique Landscapes mods (brilliant mods), Addonay's classical weaponry mod (the greatest swords out there), several of the RealSwords mods (race-specific blades which give advantages to their respective race but which can be wielded by anyone) and the Living Economy mod (a mod that really makes bartering worthwhile) along with a few other annoyance removers and smaller mods (low-poly grass etc.). But of course, that's not the reason you're reading this is it?

~~~
After a few moments in which I tried to analyze my new surroundings, I realized that I had somehow ended up in the sewers of Taneth and that I was floating in the sewage coming from the houses in the poorer districts of Taneth. Great, just great. I didn't really have time to complain however since the Taneth City Watch along with a possible bounty-hunter were after me. Hopefully they would linger a bit by Beomir before resuming the chase proper. I didn't wait to find out if they captured Beomir however. I just swam.

As far as I remembered, these sewers were drained into the Abecean Sea so, hopefully, if I kept swimming I would reach the coastline and gain less than half-a-dozen diseases while doing it. If I wasn't lucky, I would probably get lost in these smelly sewers and die either of starvation or disease.

First however I tried to get out of the filthy water. There was a stone ledge near so I swam towards it and tried to climb. After a few failed attempts I finally managed to scramble up the filthy rock. After trying to clean myself a bit I discovered that the smell would be hard to hide if any members of the Taneth Watch came looking for me down in the sewers. The ledge I was on followed the flow of the water so my best bet was to follow the water to where it was drained into the sea.

As I made my way, following the winding waters, I had to be wary of any drainage pipes encased in the walls since I was liable of being hit in the face by a pile of waste any moment. Thus, I kept my wits about me as I held the walls closely. The stone walls were probably white once, yet time and the waste thrown by the people of Taneth had rendered it barely recognizable. There was filth stuck between the stones and a heavy odour coming from the rocks themselves. I couldn't wait to get out of this place.

I needed a plan however. I was now really all by myself, as I had always been. Belwin had disappeared and
Beomir was probably in the hands of Clavilla by now, being tortured for information. Once I got out of these filthy sewers, I had to continue towards Rihad, with or without my comrades. Belwin was a crafty fellow and he had probably seen the Watch outside the tavern before Beomir did so. He also knew that, ultimately, I would end up in Rihad, one way or another so, if the Watch hadn't captured him yet, he was probably on his way to Rihad while I was crawling through the sewers. Knowing Belwin, he had probably cast an invisibility spell and gotten out of the tavern the moment the Watch appeared knocking on our door.

Beomir however was another matter entirely. The Watch had captured him and I didn't really feel well about leaving him behind, to torment and, probably, death. Still, now that I thought about it better, he wouldn't have had these same concerns for me, seeing as he tried to kill me in the tunnel. The dastard deserved to rot, no matter what my conscience told me. Heh. My famous conscience. The very thing that gave Beomir the confidence to attack me had been his downfall for, in those moments, I stopped thinking entirely and just went with the flow. That was the secret to fighting properly.

Thinking in combat was, mostly, a mere hindrance. You had to let instinct take hold of you and pray that your favoured combat moves would be etched into your very sub-conscience so that you would use them without even realizing it. That was what I had done with Beomir earlier. That high parry, the Eagle's Guard, was a move my father had taught me incessantly, constantly telling me how useful it would be when I would fight someone taller than me, or someone who simply preferred high strikes.

When in combat, you simply had to empty your mind and stop caring about your most things. If you went into a fight with an obsessive fear of getting hurt, then you would naturally fight in a very fearful, defensive way, something which would allow your opponent to overwhelm you. If you went into a fight with a clear mind, then you would obviously have none of these problems. At least that was what my father and various other trainers I had worked with over the years told me. As one of my favourite trainers said, the time to think is before and after a fight, never during one. When I asked him about one of his favourite moves, a powerful hit using the elbow delivered to the neck, and what bad things could happen to the opponent he simply said: "Who cares? He's your enemy."

Of course, I tried to avoid using that move in something as minor as a bar brawl since it was a very dangerous move which could make your opponent swallow his tongue. Of course, if you stopped thinking and caring about the consequences then that thing wouldn't really matter.

Another method this trainer favoured in particular was sending me to watch various animals. Be it watching the horses at the stables or simply observing some guy's dogs, my trainer tried to make me realize how an animal would react to certain situations in comparison to a human being. He also asked me what I saw in their eyes but I never really could answer his question because that's exactly what you see in the eyes of an animal: nothing at all. A more thorough answer could be the absence of fear and thought yet in the end it's all the same. That's just it about animals, they are always living in the moment, never thinking ahead into the future like many people do. Quite honestly, if they would think about their future, then they couldn't really enjoy their lives since they would have so many things to worry about. Where to find food, where to find a mate, where to sleep, how to escape predators. Humans have much the same needs, except in a different context. Most of them actually think and worry about those needs as well so that could prove to be another thing that sets us apart from animals.

Now that I think more about this trainer I remember that his name was Thoros and that he was one of the Yokus, the old-style Redguards who lived by the old ways and traditions, worshiping the old gods as well. He also had many philosophical and esoteric answers for many of my questions, answers which confused me more than they managed to enlighten. To give an example, I once asked him how one could become invincible. He stood for a few moments thinking then simply said: "The sparrow never lands where the tiger roams."

Finding an answer for that particular question took me more than fourteen years thus, I wonder, how long would it take someone else? Nevertheless, all this thinking and these nostalgic memories of my youth made the journey through the sewers much more bearable. Thinking about the various principles taught to me over the years made time pass much faster and it also lightened my mind regarding the tasks at hand. As I looked forwards, I could see a light and the exit to the sewers. The trek through the sewers had not been all that hard. I had found the exit by simply using my nose, for the air felt less foul on the way towards the exit than it did in other directions.

Seeing the sun on my face once more was truly refreshing. It was almost like awakening after a stormy night full of nightmares. I had been in the sewers all night long and meanwhile the sun had risen outside. I was now standing on a thin ledge on the edge of a cliff. Looking out around me I could see the city of Taneth a short way North-East of my current position. It seemed that the people of Taneth had planned for the sewers to be drained outside their actual city and somewhat far away from it so that its people would not have to cope with the stench of the gutter. The only problem now was actually getting down from the high place I was standing on. From where I was, the sewage draining out of the sewers formed a small waterfall falling lazily down into the Abecean Sea. Since I couldn't really climb the rocks either up or down the cliff, I had no choice but to jump into the water.

Taking several steps back, I started running towards the edge of the cliff. When I was actually close to the edge, I used my momentum and jumped, holding on tight to my sword. I flew through the air for a few seconds and I felt almost as a bird in flight. I returned to the real world however as soon as I hit the water. It was cold and the plunge almost broke my legs. At least I was safe though. Swimming back to shore I found a secluded beach close to the cliff from where I had jumped. After resting there for a bit and taking off my greaves to examine my legs, I was off again. Hopefully, to Rihad. Hope however had an odd way of appearing when you least expected it and of disappearing when you most needed it.

~~~
That's it for this update. It wasn't to short I hope?

This post has been edited by Agent Griff: Feb 4 2008, 04:05 PM

[The Metal Mallet]

It was a good size for what you wrote. I love the little reminisce about his fighting training. Good work.

[Agent Griff]

A swift update to surprise you.

~~~
The warm sand of the beach along with the cool water brought by the tide touching the tips of my toes made me feel like I was in some tropical paradise. I had almost forgotten completely about my troubles yet that was a mistake I was soon to mend. After lying down on the beach and standing there for a few minutes fear suddenly surged into my body as I heard a shout. Then another one. By the voices I could notice that they were Nords. As I rose to my feet and drew my sword I ran towards the rock-wall nearby. The voices were coming from high up the rocks, were a forest bloomed. I suspected that the road to Rihad was also close-by since they couldn't have found me that fast if this place was as far away as it looked. As I hugged the cliff-face, I listened carefully.

"See anything Valgeir?" one of the voices shouted from one end of the rocks. "Valgeir?"

"Thorsten, come! I have found some tracks!" Valgeir shouted back to his companion.

Hm, Thorsten and Valgeir. These names seemed strangely familiar yet I couldn't remember where exactly I had heard them before. Now that I thought about it however I could somewhat remember Beomir mentioning them once.When exactly was it? Oh yes, now I remembered. Valgeir and Thorsten were the two Nord trackers who helped Beomir uncover the body of the wife of the former Guard Captain of Taneth. By the way Beomir described them, they seemed quite skilled and experienced in their field of work yet he did not call them bounty-hunters. From what I understood, Beomir never had any relations of friendship with bounty-hunters, only with people of his own ilk-mercenaries to be exact.

The fact that these two were tracking me however wasn't good. If I would have to deal with search-parties from Taneth, a bounty-hunter and these two Nords then I was in for a hard time. Looking around and pricking my ears, I could notice that everything had gotten quiet. Perhaps the two trackers had come to the conclusion that I wasn't anywhere near or they could have spotted the marks I left in the sand after lying down. Either way, I wasn't prepared to stick around and find out. When I had first dashed to the rock-wall I had seen a small opening in the sheer-rock a little to the right from the place where I was standing. Since anything was better than being in the open, I approached the opening.

As I clambered precariously along the wall, trying to be inconspicuous, I discovered that the opening in the rock was actually the entrance to a cave. I almost lost my balance when I neared the cave entrance yet I soon regained it and entered. The cave was dank and a slight smell of rotten meat floated in the air. That was odd when I considered that this cave was supposed to be empty. Still, in my current position I had little choice. Since I wasn't in the open anymore, I lied down close to a wall. From the entrance, the cave wound forward forming a straight tunnel. As I stood with my back against the wet wall I could feel a dreary feeling taking hold of me. All the running had finally gotten to me and my eyes were starting to close by themselves. Losing hold of my sword, I fell into the deceiving embrace of sleep. For the moment, it seemed like the best thing in the world. As I fell deeper asleep, even the moist rock of the wall seemed as comfortable as a fine bed.

I woke up probably hours later yet I felt a bothering pain in the side of my head. I looked around and couldn't really recognize the cave anymore. The place where I had fell asleep was somewhat different. It was the beginning of a long, almost straight, tunnel. This place, where I was now, was like a big round chamber. An eerily empty one yet there were signs all around me of occupants. On the edges of the chamber there were small stools and logs which slightly resembled chairs, along with odd rock formations that were flat as tables. I could also see firewood in one of the alcoves on the edges of the chamber. Most worryingly, in the middle of the chamber there was a big open fire with a long wooden stakes above it held by two other wooden stakes. The whole thing looked like it was a roast yet there was nothing stuck to the stake. Near the fire there were also generous quantities of rope. It was old rope of a poor quality yet enough of it could probably immobilize a wild-boar.

I had had just enough of my new lodgings so I prepared to depart. If only my head wouldn't boom with pain. I soon discovered however that I was forced to to prolong my stay, without my own consent. My hands had been tied behind my back to a stalagmite shooting up from the rock-floor. Try as I may, I could not pull myself free nor tear apart the thick rope. I hated moments like this when carelessness took the better of me! I was now forced to wait and see what fate was in store for me. By the looks of it, that fire had been prepared with a big meal in mind. Something like a deer or a wolf...or a human.

The only thing left to do was to meet my tormentors. The dastards had parted me of my trusty scimitar as well. I looked around yet everywhere I looked I could see the same things: a dinner table being prepared. The only sharp objects around were just old pieces of cutlery like forks or knives. My "patrons" soon appeared however, removing the shroud of mystery which surrounded them. Their scaly green skin shone in the pale light of the bonfire, their mistreated fangs hung out of their mouthes and their bright yellow eyes showed nothing but mischief and evil. Goblins. Lots of them.

As soon as one of the foul creatures emerged, about eight others followed it. They were all scantily dressed. Some wore only a loin-cloth to cover themselves. All the years they had spent in this cave had made them accustomed to the moisture and the cool breeze which sometimes passed through the cavern. Most of them lied down on either logs or stools around the fire but two of them came to enjoy themselves at my expense. One of them played with my head, his blunt claws scratching my skin in an annoying manner, while another giggled like a demon at my predicament. I could almost understand him taunting me in his own language. They soon left me to my torment however, pleased of their feat of capturing me alive.

Another three goblins soon entered the chamber from some passages which I could not see, one of them precariously holding my scimitar. Despite he fact that in my hands it wasn't that big of a weapon, in the fiend's claws it seemed like a claymore. He came right up to me and swung it around in a mocking way, at a safe distance however so he couldn't hurt me with it. It was now very clear, the beasts were saving me for later so they could eat me properly.

More and more goblins came to enjoy the show, as it were, of seeing a live Redguard bound hand and foot in front of their very eyes. Soon enough, a couple of goblins brought three big drums, almost as big as the goblins themselves. They set them around the fire. Three goblins then rolled their stumps up to the drums and started playing the drums with the palms of their hands, keeping up a constant beat. The scene was starting to get surreal. The only thing missing was to have the goblins start chanting something as they prepared to fry me.

After a few more goblins had tormented me with their demonic laughter and mindless games a stranger goblin came to examine me, followed by two other goblins carrying poor quality axes with rusted axe-heads. They had leather caps on their heads and weird tattoos on their arms. The goblin which they were apparently escorting had only a stained apron and was carrying a ladle. Unlike many of the goblins, he was neither overjoyed at seeing me nor particularly mischievous. He treated with cold precision. He examined my entire body closely, from head to toe, noting how much muscle I had on me and if my bones were too big. He seemed pleased at the end of the examination and only then giggled with mischief as most of the goblins did. With a squeal he then left, followed by his two guards.

The atmosphere was starting to get rather tense as the decisive moment approached. At first I was terribly afraid when I discovered that I was going to get eaten yet a feeling of resentment soon started setting in. I stopped really caring whether I was eaten alive or whether they killed me before roasting me. I had lost my concentration and that had led to my downfall. There wouldn't be a second chance, to atone for my mistakes. Hopefully, some wandering adventurer would discover this godforsaken cave and learn from my mistakes, somewhere in the near future. If any part of me was left after this goblin-feast.

The little beasts sure had great pleasure in tormenting me before the moment came when they would fry me. I had lost count of how many times a goblin had come up to me and had shook my head or tried to tickle me with their claws. It had gotten to a point that it was so annoying that I would have begged them to eat me, if I had only known their language. They did have a language however. It was odd yet, with perseverance, one could surely learn it. Of course, now was not the time to learn a foreign language. Now was a time for prayers and, in a man's time of need even an atheist could start praying. I for one knew that I did, despite the fact that I wasn't an atheist. I didn't go to temple often either, but it never was too late to start, as the priests often said.

After saying many prayers to almost all of the gods I knew, even some Daedric ones (probably because of the desperation), I felt that the moment when the goblins would eat me was nearing. It seemed almost as if the beasts had prolonged my suffering just so they could turn me into a nervous wreck. I wasn't prepared to give them that satisfaction however. My only regret was that I couldn't die fighting the beasts. I also had other regrets, yet they weren't really appropriate for the situation. The goblin with the apron, who must have been the cook of the goblin tribe, returned to the chamber along with another goblin besides the two warriors following him. This new goblin was wearing some extravagant headgear, most probably the skull of a ram. It still had the horns so it made the goblin look particularly frightening. By the way most goblins treated this new goblin, he must have been their chieftain. Like every other goblin did, he also came up to me and looked at me. After eying me over and casting a demonic smile he went near the fire and raised his hands. He then said something in the harsh tongue of the goblins, something which seemed to frenzy the other goblins. They all raised their hands much like the chieftain and some of them who were holding anything, cutlery, twigs, rocks, anything at all, started banging what they had against the rock tables. It seemed almost as if the goblins started chanting. Just my luck. The scene was now complete and it seemed I was going to be devoured by the cannibal goblins.

Hope however, as I said before, had an odd habit of appearing when it was least expected. An inhuman shout silenced the goblins standing about the fire. As they all started looking around I could see a notable feeling of anger and hate in their yellow little eyes. In some of them I could even see a certain dose of fear. Things had just gotten a whole lot better. It could have been a bigger monster, like an ogre or a troll. It would have killed the goblins then it would have eaten me in its own way, so the situation didn't improve by a lot. Instead of being cooked and eaten by goblins, I would get devoured alive by an ogre. If it was an adventurer however, well that changed things. If it was an experienced adventurer, then he could slay the goblins and rescue me, thus learning from my mistakes in a much more user-friendly way, for me at least. If it was an inexperienced adventurer, then he would just get killed by the goblins or even captured and eaten along with me. If that was truly the case, then the goblins would have had a real holiday. I could just imagine the goblins telling themselves about it.

"So what's the news?"

"We bagged another adventurer today, along with the one we already have."

"And?"

"We're eating em' both. Bring a friend!"

Of course, now was not a time to make grim predictions. For the moment, I just watched and listened. Goblins scurried off in all directions from the chamber I was in, some heading to the right while some ran to the left, all entering passages hidden from sight. I could also notice goblins brandishing weapons that had been hidden thus far. Goblins which had no weapon prepared ran off to get their own. The chieftain waited around the fire as two of the lesser goblins brought his armour and fitted it on him. As he stood to let his servants properly fit on his armour, the chieftain threw a glance towards me. I could almost hear him saying that after they dealt with this annoyance they would return for me.

After his armour was ready, he hastily grabbed a spiked steel mace brought to him and ran off in the direction of his warriors to face the threat. The chamber was soon emptied completely, except for the goblin cook which hid behind a rock, throwing his ladle in an act of fear and desperation. It was clearly the first time he had experienced the attack of an adventurer. Since the chamber was now empty, besides the fear-stricken cook, I now listened carefully. I could hear the echoes of steel clashing with steel and the grotesque sounds of goblins giving their last breaths. Those sounds were music to my ears as I let off a visible smile. Despite the fact that the echoes made it hard to determine the source of the sounds, it was clear that they were approaching the chamber I was in. By the panic stricken cries of the goblins, it seemed they were dealing with an experienced adventurer.

Soon enough I saw a goblin running into the room. If he had a weapon, he had dropped it in favour of using his feet. By the bleeding gash on his shoulder, he had been wounded badly. Soon enough another "goblin" entered the chamber. This one however was somewhat lighter than his kin because only his head entered the chamber. It came rolling from the passage to the left, blood dripping from it in rivulets as it rolled into the fire. Something had beheaded the goblin with such strength that it had sent the head rolling into another part of the cave. That also meant that the adventurer was close however.

More goblins came from the passage to the left, going towards the passage to my right. Some of them ran off, trying to exit the cave, yet some stopped near the passage, trying to form a sort of barrier, a last stand of sorts, so that their comrades could escape. One of the goblins was carrying the wounded chieftain on his back. The chieftain's right arm had been hacked clean off, close to the shoulder and it was bleeding wildly. He didn't have much time left. I almost cheered when I saw the chieftain exiting the chamber on the back of his faithful follower. The goblins were clearly trying to evacuate the cave with what they had left.

After the chieftain left, an eerie silence set in. The goblins, about three of them, stood tense by the passage to my left as they waited for the adventurer. After a few moments of peace and quiet, all hell broke loose once more as the adventurer finally emerged from the passage to my left. He was a tall Argonian, powerfully built and dark-skinned, wielding a large steel claymore. He held the claymore in one hand however since two goblins were atop him, trying to wrestle him to the ground, one on each shoulder. The Argonian, trying to get rid of his unwanted guests, slammed his right shoulder into the rock-wall, slamming the goblin head-first into the wall as well in the process. He then repeated the process with the second goblin and soon two goblins with cracked skulls were lying on the ground. Afterwards, raising his claymore, he charged the remaining barricade of goblins head first.

Filled with dread at the sight of the Argonian, one of the goblins ran off, dropping his weapon and his shield. With a wide swing of his blade, the Argonian beheaded the first goblin and, after swinging his weapon back and forth several times, the second goblin was soon down on the ground as well, the arm with which he held his axe hacked off almost perfectly, bone and all. He had attempted a clumsy counter-attack after one of the Argonian's wide swings yet that was exactly what the Argonian was expecting. As the Argonian looked around the chamber, he noticed the goblins' dinner preparations. He then looked down towards the goblin with the hacked arm, which was still alive yet in great pain.

"Sorry for interrupting."

With a powerful thrust he then ended the goblin's miserable life. As he turned around, the Argonian noticed me. He seemed surprised at first yet he quickly regained his calm. As he approached me he held his blade high, in case any more goblins appeared or in case I was just something to bait him into walking into a trap. After standing still for a few moments and realizing that there was no trap involved, the Argonian lied down on one knee, bringing his own face to my level.

"Ah Malz, Fighters Guild."
~~~
I'm sure you'll never look at goblins the same way again.

[jack cloudy]

Argonian to the rescue! Oh yea, big bad lizard with bigger sword. Sorry, but the mental image is just oozing with awesome.

On the other hand, Beomir's friends seem to be looking for Arthago. Does this mean the 'betrayal' had been planned?

[Agent Griff]

Well, I did say they were mercenaries right? If they were in the neighbourhood and they got a job with good pay, why not go for it? I'll enlighten you in the next update anyway. Oh, and I see that we have something in common since you have (or better said will have) an entire story centered around one of these badass lizards.

Oh, and in other news, one of my fics was nominated on the site of the Witcher as one of the best in a competition which gave out three copies of Andrzej Sapkowski's book The Last Wish. For those of you who aren't acquainted with either The Witcher video-game or The Witcher series of books, Sapkowski is the one who wrote the books and created the character Geralt of Rivia (one of coolest anti-heroes out there). The fact that my fan fiction got published on the site just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside because of pride. Well, I didn't actually win anything but you're welcome to see for yourselves if I deserved to win anything or not.

Click for linkage: http://www.thewitcher.com/community/en/news/423.html

[Agent Griff]

Here's the latest update. I hope my dear readers (yes, I'm meaning the two of you!) enjoy it.

~~~
The Argonian looked at me intently with his almost alien face. It reminded me of a toad, a dragon and a a lizard, all at the same time. Unlike other members of his race, his face was almost flat, his snout not being as elongated as the snouts of most Argonians I had met. Of course, I wasn't an expert on Argonians but it was plain to see that there were several different breeds of them. Some of them had odd legs, arched like a bird's, while some, like the one who was standing in front of me, had human legs, long and straight. The Argonian showed no emotion as he eyed me from head to toe, much like the goblin chef had done previously.

He was wearing an iron cuirass which appeared worn and weathered. Since he was a member of the Fighters Guild he must have received it when he joined. An old leather belt ran diagonally across his breastplate and it seemed that he had something hung across his back, most probably the scabbard of his sword. And what a sword he had! It was one of the great-swords, a claymore of fine make with a slightly serrated edge. The metal it was made of was of a darker colour than most tones of iron I had seen. Besides the cuirass, he also had some matching pauldrons with all of the associated dents and cuts, most probably from all the use they had seen. Instead of gauntlets he had a pair of leather vambraces which protected the wrist and the lower arm yet left your actual hands uncovered. It helped when you had claws instead of regular fingernails.

Besides those pieces of armour he wore little protective equipment so to speak off. He had no helmet and no armour to protect either his legs or the middle portion of his scaly arms. Instead of the greaves you would come to expect from someone who wants to protect himself with full armour, the Argonian only had some torn-up pants which were dirtied by the foray in the cave and blood stains from goblins he had slain. He left his feet bare since boots would have properly made him uncomfortable, based on the large claws he had at his feet as well.

A large spiky frill decorated the top of his head and his skin, much like his eyes, was red. The skin on his face was bright red, as his eyes, yet the skin on his lower body was of a much darker shade of red, almost crimson. He also had some black scales on his lower arms. His eyes were some of the oddest I had ever seen, based on the fact that they had vertical-slit pupils, much like lizards or cats.

Some time passed before he actually finished inspecting me. I had almost gotten to the point where I was ready to tell him that he should release me already and get over with it. I, thankfully, kept my calm. There was nothing stopping the Argonian from either leaving me there or, gods forbid, eat me himself. So what? A guy can hear stories. It's not like all former Dark Elf slave-traders are liars, right? There were some stories around Sentinel regarding the odd habits Argonians had, among them being the fact that they ate things live, without actually killing them. People included. Or was it Wood Elves that did that? In any case, I was now alone, with an Argonian, in a cave far away from civilization. The situation was actually starting to get scarier than the original deadly situation I was in, with the goblins. After a few more moments, the Argonian looked me in the eye again with his emotionless face.

"Last I heard, this place wasn't good to be sunbathed in." Ah-Malz said. From the way he said it, it have actually been meant as a joke, yet the Argonian's pronunciation wasn't exactly flawless. He reminded me of a snake since he happened to hiss sometimes.

"To sunbathe in, you mean? Well, I didn't actually come here to sunbathe. I came here to take a nap and, let's just say I got carried away. Literally. Carried away and tied to a boulder and, if you hadn't arrived just in the nick of time, I would have probably been eaten as well. So, I guess I owe you thanks, Ah-Malz of the Fighters Guild." I said in a pretty matter-of-factly way. There was a pause afterwards since he seemed to struggle with the meaning of my words.

"This one is not familiar with the language. Came to practice, see you? Both speaking and hunting. In native Stormhold I joined the Fighters Guild. After a few years, I decided to see the world and get paid for it, as Guild members say. My seeing and getting paid has taken me to Hammerfell, as you can hear." Ah-Malz said, once again forcing himself to speak a long, structured sentence. He was still wrong in certain points however.

"As I can see, you mean."

"You can what?"

"Nevermind. Just cut these ropes so I can finally get out of this blasted cave." I said, getting rather tired of the Argonian and his child-like language skills. It was really annoying talking to these illiterate foreigners that came to Hammerfell to learn something. What did they think Hammerfell was? Some kind of boarding school? It was a tough place. Even us Redguards, who were born and bred in Hammerfell, had a hard time getting by. What did these strangers expect to find in our lands?

"You were lucky. Few have ever been captured by the green-skins and lived to tell the tale. In Black Marsh, they're not trouble. In the rest of Tamriel however, they're as thick as Hackwings on the skies of Black Marsh. I make coin hunting goblins. Good business." Ah-Malz said, trying a smile as an afterthought though it had an unnerving effect more than anything since it showed me his unusually sharp teeth.

"I'm sure my friend. The rope?" I asked, trying to tell the Argonian that I wanted him to free me already. Subtlety didn't seem to be this fellow's strong point however.

"It is still there, nothing to worry. So, the goblin captured you? I killed them good eh?" The Argonian said in a nonchalant manner. He was starting to get on my nerves, if slightly. It seemed as if he was only talking to me so he could improve his language skills.

"They somehow captured me after I fell asleep. I woke up with a sharp pain in my head and my hands tied to this rock as you can see. About that, yes you did. You handle your sword well Argonian, you have native skill. And that's saying something, for a Redguard." I said, complimenting the Argonian on his skill in hopes that he would release me quicker.

"I was fisher back in Black Marsh. Skill you admire is skill gained fishing." Ah-Malz said, referring to his skill with the blade.

"What do you mean? How can one gain skill with the blade while fishing?" I said, thinking him to be an idiot. It was only then that I remembered I was talking to an Argonian who had lived most his life in his native Black Marsh.

"In Black Marsh, friend, fish can get bigger than you! Nasty teeth and tough hide. Need good steel to kill properly. Goblin is better. He is smaller and weaker, and cowardly. You saw? Three of them with me, and one runs and leaves brothers to die. Cowardly, is he not?" The Argonian asked, showing a genuine feeling a outrage through his tone of voice, though his face showed no visible emotions.

"I see. You know Ah-Malz, we could speak much more properly if I wasn't tied to this rock. What do you say about cutting me free?"

"I agree, but first, does this belong to you?"

The Argonian then left the chamber I was in, going towards the tunnel where had emerged from. After a few minutes in which he audibly searched around the cave he returned, his own great-sword sheathed, yet holding in his hands my scimitar. He had found it!

"Yes, that is my blade! How did you find it? Last I saw, a goblin was holding it." I said, overflowing with joy. Ah-Malz seemed to be proud that he had made me smile and laugh. Somehow he thought that his language skills were improving.

"Last I saw, I said right no? Last I saw, a goblin was holding it same. But I hit to death with my sword and bring it back to you." Ah-Malz said, trying to obviously imitate me.

"Yes, you did. Ah-Malz, are you from Taneth?" I asked, trying to make Ah-Malz tell me what had actually happened during my escape.

"Yes, Taneth Guild of Fighters. Why?"

"What have you heard lately from the city? Any odd news?" I said in an innocent way like I was simply curious. Even though the Argonian wasn't very knowledgeable when it came to the language used, he was no amateur when it came to reading expressions. He looked at me for a few seconds before replying yet I couldn't tell if he was suspecting something or just thinking about what he would say.

"Nothing much." He said, looking closely at my eyes. He paused then for a few moments. "Except one thing. A secret movement tried to kill the Queen of Taneth. She isn't pleased. She says that her agents managed to discover the conspiracy before it could act and destroy it."

"And were any members captured or killed?" I asked, trying to hide the obvious interest in my face.

"One was captured, a burly Nord if I'm corrected. Another member came of his own willing while the others are escaped. I realize there is thing I did not ask you." Ah-Malz said. His words gave me an odd feeling.

"What?" I asked, trying to appear innocent and uninformed.

"How are you named...friend?" Ah-Malz said ina rather conniving way. The way in which he added the word 'friend' seemed more like an afterthought, something to give me confidence that I was dealing with someone who was my friend. Something to give me the confidence needed to tell him something I would later regret. I got suspicious. After a few tense moments of silence I answered, trying not to give him my real name.

"Vil...gefortz. Vilgefortz, Knight Errant of Riverview. What of it Ah-Malz?" I asked in a nonchalant way. At first I wanted to give him the fake name 'Vilamon'. Only then did I remember that I had revealed both my true identity and my fake name to Jon and Bodean. If one of them betrayed me, or even Belwin or Beomir betrayed me, then Clavilla would have had information about my real name. Ah-Malz did not seem either pleased or suspicious yet with Argonians it was always hard to tell.

"Alright then. Let me free your ropes." Ah-Malz said as he drew a dagger he had as a secondary weapon. He circled the stalagmite then cut my ropes, giving me my freedom back. I wasn't quite prepared to let Ah-Malz out of my sights. I grasped my sword and sheathed it in my scabbard, which the goblins didn't touch. "You should know however that Queen says that the remaining conspiracy men will be hunted like dogs. Whatever that means. We don't really have dogs in Black Marsh."

"Why should it concern me? It's not like I did anything is it? Did you happen to see a sack of armour as well? Nice steel, about my size?" I asked, looking to see where my armour was. Hopefully, the goblins had not tinkered with it.

Ah-Malz took a sack which was slung on his back and threw it to me. I scurried to catch, caring so that my armour wouldn't fall to the wet cave floor. "Found it next to your sword."

"Thanks a lot Ah-Malz, I'll never forget you saved my life. Maybe when I'm in Taneth next time I'll buy you a drink. I sure owe you more than that however, that I know for sure!" I said in a cheerful way, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. If Ah-Malz was suspicious that I might have been involved with the conspiracy, then he was free to attack me. He did say that he wanted to practice his sword-fighting skills besides his language skills right? Well, I was ready to give him a free lesson and a permanent place at the great swordsman academy in the sky, where a lot of other famous people were training, like Lord Bridwell or King Camaron, Lhotun's father who died in battle with Bridwell, or Gaiden Shinji among many others. I heard they were always accepting new members. I however, had no current interest in joining.

Before Ah-Malz could say anything in reply, we both heard the pitter-patter of little feet on the wet cave floor. There were quite a lot of them and most of them were coming this way. It seemed that the goblins had returned with a vengeance. As soon as he heard movement, Ah-Malz drew his claymore and barred his teeth in a savage way. The Argonian was truly frightening when angered. He lowered himself into a fighting stance. I drew my blade as well in a quick fluid motion and entered a passive fighting stance I liked, from which one could flow intuitively into both attack and defense. I looked at Ah-Malz and he looked at me back, throwing me a quick wink followed by his beastly smile. That was quite unexpected. It seemed Ah-Malz was catching the local habits quicker than I imagined. It seemed that, for the moment, we had become unlikely allies.

"You watch my back, I'll take care of them." Ah-Malz said as he went right in front of the passage from which the sounds were coming.

"Sure. If you slaughtered them so badly on your own, imagine what the two of us will do!" I said as I looked around warily at the side passages. Despite not saying it openly, I was ready to aid Ah-Malz in fighting off the brunt of the goblins as well.

"This is time to practice sword, not language." Ah-Malz said, clearly showing his concentration. He did not even look at me when he spoke. "This time they are better prepared. Their armour is weak at throat and beneath arm."

"I'll remember that." I said quietly, more to myself than to Ah-Malz.

We could hear the goblins approaching. Their inhuman squeaks and growls along with some of the goblins' awful snickering echoed through the cave, creating an awfully demoralizing atmosphere. Ah-Malz however looked like he couldn't care less. From the stony look on his face, probably even the Daedra of Oblivion couldn't scare him before a battle. Soon enough, the fiends appeared. They stopped at the mouth of the passage from which they came. They were, as Ah-Malz said, much more better prepared than they were when he first came. Most of them wore some sort of armour now. Some had breastplates over torn mail hauberks while some had armour made of bones or wood-planks. It was quite crude yet effective. Just as Ah-Malz said, they had no armour so to speak of below the arm, at the arm-pits to be exact, and at the neck. Some of them had head protection like leather caps or helmets yet some had none so the head was also a viable target in some cases. The goblins seemed surprised that there were now two of us. They didn't quite seem to expect it. With those being said, there was nothing left to do than engage in combat.

"Pay-back time."
~~~
I hoped you liked this update for all the Argonian-lovers in you.

[The Metal Mallet]

Definitely a solid pair of updates Griff. I really enjoyed the hopeless feeling conveyed during his capture and the interaction between Arthago and Ah was quite interesting to read. Definitely a neat character you got there.

[jack cloudy]

Goody. I love that scaly fisherman already!


Also, I'm a bit surprised that Arthago has all of his armour again. I was under the impression he was forced to leave most behind in his room during his rather rushed escape. Still nice though, I missed that steel.

[Agent Griff]

No, he fit on whatever parts he could (realistically, you can't really fit on a suit of plate armour if you don't have an arming vest, since most parts of the armour are manually tied and attached to the vest. I wanted to give my story somewhat more realism than basic TES pseudo-realism) during the little time he had and he took the rest in a sack, which he already had even before he arrived in Taneth. If you remember, he packed his armour after leaving that backwater town they slept in on the way to Rihad. He had it packed in Taneth as well so it was really a matter of picking up the pack and taking it along. I made no mention of it however since I thought it was unnecessary.

[Agent Griff]

After some absence I return once more! Enjoy the update.

~~~
The goblins seemed to be watching Ah-Malz, in awe that one individual had killed so many of their brood. By the way he looked, all arrayed in steel and scales, one could almost say that he was a half-breed, the son of a dragon of old. He was a regular being however, as much as I was and nothing separated him from me or the goblins we were fighting, except maybe his exceptional skill with the sword. The Argonian stood and locked the goblins at the mouth of the passage with his stony gaze, and they stood as if mesmerized. After a few moments however, he charged. Frightened by his sudden outburst and the ferocity of his sprint, two of the goblins somewhat backed away yet Ah-Malz, with his great-sword, simultaneously beheaded the two of them before they could run. The third goblin ducked and managed to avoid the whirling blade, yet Ah-Malz quickly kicked him over the head after dispatching his two brethren. As the goblin fell on his back, the rest of his kin standing at the mouth of the passage pulled him by the arms back to his feet. Despite their savagery, these goblins had a sense of camaraderie rarely found in mere beasts. Perhaps there was more to them than met the eye? This was not a time to ponder the fauna of Tamriel however. Our lives were at stake and we would have to fight off a whole goblin clan if we wished to survive.

"Watch the side!" Ah-Malz shouted, so as to be heard over the anxious screams and snickering of the foul goblins.

Silence suddenly enveloped the room however. Had the goblins backed down? I quickly glanced towards the passage but I could see only darkness beyond the foreboding entrance. Suddenly however, the goblins all charged inside, gathering their strength and their courage. Ah-Malz seemed to be momentarily overwhelmed as he took on more goblins than even his skill allowed. Using that to their advantage, several goblins scurried past Ah-Malz and surrounding me. They had a look of blood lust in their eyes as they looked me over. Their anger however was also mixed with some fear, seeing as now I was free to move around. Seeing as I had no time to fit on my armour, I would have to fight unarmoured. This wasn't really to my disadvantage however, seeing as it allowed me to use a more acrobatic style of fighting.

The fiends slowly encircled me as I raised my scimitar. None of them seemed willing however to commence fighting, to make the first move. I decided to make the first move in their stead, seeing as they were having second-thoughts. It was never a very wise idea to permanently stay on the defensive, seeing as it gave your opponent a chance to overwhelm you. Ah-Malz was a good example of always staying on the offensive. Despite the fact that he was surrounded by blood-thirsty goblins, I could see him swinging his blade in a seemingly wild manner, with little to no precision. The Argonian's moves were more than met the eye however, merely an illusion of chaos underneath a series of well-trained moves specially designed for fighting against groups of enemies. I had little time to admire the Argonian's fighting style however, seeing as I had opponents of my own.

Quickly charging one of the goblins, I feigned a strike towards his side while quickly turning my blade to the other side of his body and slashing him across the face. My strike left a bloody gash running diagonally along the goblin's face, from his right brow to the left-side of his jaw. As the goblin backed away surprised, little more than its adrenaline holding it on its feet for a few more agonizing seconds, I quickly turned to face the goblins which were now attacking me. Not wanting to back away into the mass of goblins Ah-Malz was fighting, I spun into the group of goblins, swinging my sword while I was at it. My move seemed to surprise the goblins which merely walked into my spinning blade. I slashed two of my opponents across the throat while cutting a third goblin's head clean off. As I spun out of my pirouette I felt slightly dazed yet there were now three less goblins to worry about. Since my move had its own risks however, I also received several bruises from the crude maces and clubs the goblins were carrying.

Only two goblins now stood before me, one of them carrying an axe and a wooden shield while the other had a club and a worn mail coif. Some of the links in the mail were so rusted that one pinch of the finger could force them out of place. A good swing from my sword could probably split the coif in half. Grinning slightly as I eyed my opponents over, I advanced once more, taking the initiative. One of the goblins however surprised me by hurling himself towards me, almost knocking me to the ground. As I staggered back I could feel a sharp pain in my left shoulder from the goblin's club. As I staggered, I tripped on a rock and fell on one of my knees. The rock which made up the floor was rough and probably bruised my knee. The goblin seemed to chuckle as he watched my predicament. Before I rose back to my full height however, I lashed out with a backhanded strike that disemboweled the creature.

"Who's laughing now?" I asked in a mocking way as I saw the goblin writhe in pain on the cold floor of the cave. I quickly turned my gaze to the remaining goblin however who had circled to my side.

He lunged much like his comrade yet now I was ready. As he pounced I sidestepped and my blade lanced into his unarmoured side, leaving a deep gash from which blood flowed freely. The goblin looked back to me as it staggered back, trying to distance itself from me. Seeing it suffer, I decided to put it out of its misery. As I closed on the goblin I did a pirouette and brought my scimitar down upon the goblin's neck, beheading it. Its helmeted head hit the rocky floor with a loud clang.

As I turned back I could see that Ah-Malz was still surrounded by several goblins, seven at most, yet he had slain many of the beasts, which were lying in heaps at his feet. He had been wounded however. A goblin had stuck a dirk in his leg and the wound was now bleeding. It did not seem to phase the Argonian however, who fought on with unending stamina. Turning about, he put all the weight of his body into a powerful slash which cut a goblin in half at the waist. As blood flew it hit both Ah-Malz and the other goblins, making them all look like something out of a nightmare. I decided to help the Argonian.

Going to his side, I hammered at a goblin's wooden shield until its armed seemed to loose all vigour. As the goblin's strength slowly faltered, I drew back my scimitar and passed it to my right hand. Grabbing the goblin's sword-arm with my left hand, I held it in place while I thrust my scimitar through its neck. I could feel the beast's blood on my face yet I went on, slaying another one of the foul beasts which was trying to go behind Ah-Malz.

Somewhat surprised by seeing, Ah-Malz almost let off a thrust in my direction but he soon realized who he was trying to strike. After a moment in which he acknowledged my presence he turned and cornered three goblins. Using wide-strokes of his sword, he clumped all three goblins together with their backs to a stalagmite. Once together, he crouched and, with one powerful strike, hewed the goblins' legs clean off. Leaving them wriggling on the floor in pain, he turned back to me. He didn't seem to pay much attention to the suffering of the creatures.

"Vilgefortz fight well." He said with nothing more than a slight grin. He tried not to bare his teeth too much. That was certainly an improvement in my book.

Ah-Malz was cut short however by a fireball which flew close to his head. As we both ducked, I looked towards the passage from which the fireball came. Soon enough, something that looked like a female goblin appeared. She was holding a staff made of gnarled wood in her old leathery hands. In truth, I had never seen a more grotesque creature before in my life. The smell of the female goblin soon made me forget its appearance however.

"Goblin Shaman. They flick spells at us, so are careful."

Before I could reply, the sound of a tell-tale spell being cast echoed through the cave. When I turned to look back I saw that an animated corpse missing a head and half an arm was now standing besides the Shaman. It seemed that the hag had summoned reinforcements in the place of her slain kin. By the way Ah-Malz stared at the creature, it seemed he had met and killed their kind before. Grabbing me by the arm, he led me behind a large boulder near the passage.

"I kill Shaman, you kill zombie. Good plan?" Ah-Malz asked in his stunted Tamrielic.

"How do I kill something that's already dead?" I asked in a rather confused way. I had never killed a reanimated corpse before. I had heard stories from some of the knights in the Order however. From the tales and rumours, these monsters were awfully hard to slay, seeing as they felt no pain and had no fear.

"Swing until it fall."

Ah-Malz really had a simple philosophy when it came to life and sword-fighting. Hopefully, he had a somewhat better and more coherent plan for killing the Shaman than 'swing until it dies' or something of the like. As I gritted my teeth I rose from the boulder, ready to take on the undead monster that was guarding the Shaman. Ah-Malz did the same, circling to the side of the fearsome Shaman and her undead guardian. As the goblin matriarch looked towards both me and Ah-Malz, she seemed confused. That seemed to be exactly what Ah-Malz was looking for. Taking advantage of the beast's confusion, Ah-Malz attacked, swinging his blade furiously. He didn't really wait for me to attack the zombie. Either he had a lot of trust placed in me or he had a death-wish. Judging by his previous actions, it was probably a bit of both.

Seeing that he was getting surrounded by both the Shaman and the zombie forced me to act. Running towards the zombie I raked my scimitar across its back. It felt almost like trying to cut spoiled meat which was hard and stringy. The creature turned around and I could almost feel it staring at me with the eyes it didn't have. I stood with a dumbfounded look on my face, not sure what to do. That strike would have felled even a burly man but it seemed that the monster was unaffected. Reaching back for momentum, the zombie struck me across the face with a stinging backhanded punch.

Surprised by the power of the monster, I almost dropped my sword as I staggered back. My head was throbbing from the pain but I couldn't back down now. I raised my scimitar once more with grim determination, looking at the zombie as it stalked towards me, one step at a time. Moving towards it, I swung my sword towards its chest. The strike slashed across the monster's chest yet it continued its approach. It once more drew back to strike yet now I dodged its blow, moving beneath its strike. As I rose once more I struck the creature several times with my sword yet it seemed to have little effect. Turning around and focusing its weight into its elbow, it tried to hit me again. I ducked however and tried to sever its leg. The flesh was so tough however that my scimitar got stuck in it. Desperately trying to pull my blade free, I looked up and saw as the zombie was preparing to strike me in the head. If the blow managed to connect it would either kill me or leave me in a coma. Neither of those was an interesting prospect.

Seeing as I couldn't pull my scimitar free, I kicked the monster hard in one of its legs. The blow was strong enough to make the zombie trip and fall on its back. As it was on the ground, I rose to my full height and kicked it hard in its short stubby neck, seeking to drive my boot through the creature's flesh. The hit was powerful yet it only served in getting my foot stuck in the zombie's flesh as well. With one of its hands, the undead monster grabbed me by the leg and pulled me down as well. While we were both down on the stony floor, I saw that my scimitar was tantalizingly close to me. Grabbing it with both hands as the zombie prepared for a punch aimed at my temple, I pulled once more with all my strength. After a moment in which it seemed the blade would not budge, I finally felt it free in my hands once more. The frustrating thing however was that the zombie had no head to strike. What pleasure I would have felt sinking either my blade or my boot into the monster's foul head.

Making due with what I had at hand however, I turned from my belly to my back as I was standing over the zombie, fighting against the tight grasp it had on my leg. Seeing its hand coming down on me for one last blow, I swung my scimitar at the same time with all my strength. Hoping against hope, I saw my blade connect with the undead monster's hand, hacking it clean off. No blood appeared yet I shouted with satisfaction as I saw half of the zombie's hand fall on the cold floor. Wrenching free from the grasp the creature had on my leg, I quickly clambered back to my feet. Seeing that the zombie was still on the ground I slashed my blade its other arm, cutting off several of its bony fingers. I now finally realized what Ah-Malz had meant. It seemed that the more body parts I hacked off, the more the zombie weakened.

Looking towards the gash my scimitar had left in the zombie's leg, I raised my blade once more and brought it down upon the rotten flesh of the monster's leg. I heard a sickening crack as the bone in the creature's leg broke. Seeing as it was now limp and unable to walk, I turned back to Ah-Malz. He was fighting with the Shaman much as I had been fighting with the zombie, grappling with her and trying to slit her throat with his dagger. Ah-Malz's great-sword was lying on the floor of the cavern, not far from the place the two were battling, the Shaman with her staff, Ah-Malz with his trusty dagger.

I soon saw why Ah-Malz had dropped his main weapon however. As the two were grappling, trying to knock each other to the ground, a bolt of lightning flew from the tip of the Shaman's staff, hitting the ceiling of the rocky chamber. The Shaman must have managed to hit Ah-Malz's sword with a lightning bolt, thus knocking it out of his hands.

Approaching the struggling pair, I shouted to Ah-Malz. He quickly turned his head, moving it out of the way of another lightning bolt at the last moment. As he looked at me, I threw him my blade so he could use it to finish off the old goblin hag. Wrenching free of the Shaman's hold by thrusting his dagger into one of her hands, Ah-Malz caught my scimitar as it flew through the air and, turning with a pirouette, beheaded the hag with one swift motion.

Seeing as the battle was finally over and that the whole goblin clan had been annihilated in the process, I approached Ah-Malz and returned him his great-sword. In an act of courtesy, he returned mine as well, with the blood of the goblin Shaman still on the blade. I thanked him and he nodded, sitting on a rock to rest. He seemed to be tired. In truth, so was I. A long battle like the one we had just fought usually was an exhausting affair. Sweat poured down my brow yet Ah-Malz had none so to speak off. The fact that he was an Argonian must have explained it, since as far as I knew lizards couldn't sweat.

"You do like to hack things' heads off don't you?" I asked with a chuckle. It really was odd seeing the hulking Argonian weaving around the goblins, hewing their necks off as he went ever-so gracefully.

"If head-cut kill Black Marsh fish, it kill goblin."

"So true." I said with a smile as I lied down on the rock floor in exhaustion. "At the end of the day, knowing you've killed off a whole goblin clan. Not too bad eh?"

"What is meaning of 'at end of day'?" Ah-Malz asked, seemingly bewildered. I had almost forgotten he was a foreigner who knew little of the Tamrielic language. I was sorry I couldn't speak with him in his native tongue, so as to shatter all barriers between us. Until he learned how to better speak Tamrielic however, I had little hope of having a real conversation with him.

"I still have a lot to teach you." I said with a sigh and a slight feeling of frustration. At the end of the day however, it really was good to know you've just exterminated a whole clan of goblins intent on kidnapping and eating people. And it didn't look too bad on one's resume either.
~~~
I hope you've liked this come-back update of sorts.

This post has been edited by Agent Griff: Mar 11 2008, 11:14 AM

[jack cloudy]

I liked the fight, honestly. Mostly because of how you manage to describe Ah-Malz fighting style. Berserker without the mad rage and loss of sensibility.

The next thing I found interesting is how the Goblins actually put up quite a fight when it came down to it. While mostly because of their numbers, it is still unusual to see goblins (excluding Mournhold goblins) retaliate that well.

And of course, we slipped back to another broken conversation after the killing. Love those.

Now that we have that, let's hope Arthago remembers the zombie-busting trick later on. Don't go for the torso or the head, go for the limbs.

[Agent Griff]

Peanuts, my friends!

~~~
After saying my farewells to Ah-Malz, who may or may not have understood them entirely, I went on my own path, towards Rihad. If I was to be a knight-errant, I was now a haggard one, with not even a horse to his name. The only objects I currently had were the clothes on my back, my scimitar, my packed armour and the money given to me for my various expenses. If I was to call out in front of the gates of Rihad that I was a knight, I was very liable to be taken for a common sellsword trying to make a fool out of the guards. Of course, I was intent on appearing to be more than a simple mercenary, if I was to be noticed so as to infiltrate king Sorian's royal court.

For the time being however, I had no horse seeing as I was unable to leave the city mounted on my own horse. Knowing Clavilla, my horse was probably being butchered by a knacker that very moment. Also knowing Clavilla and her rage however, companies of Taneth guardsmen were probably searching for me as I walked the roads leading to Rihad.

Ever the cautious one, I decided that it might be wiser if I were to try to keep more to the wooded sides of the roads, so as to avoid being spotted by any ill-meaning onlookers. Seeing as my two companions were also no longer with me, one of them gone while the other was captured by the Taneth guards, I no longer had anything remotely similar to a retinue of my own. Another thing that would lessen me in the eyes of the Rihad nobles.

The terrain was craggy and covered by decrepit fallen leaves which made it harder to navigate through the uneven terrain. Until I reached Rihad however, I would have to act the fugitive. Knowing at the same time that a bounty hunter and two Nordic trackers were hunting me, didn't make me feel any safer. Using the roads meant sure capture at the hands of the city guards while travelling through the forest meant sure death at the hands of the bounty hunter. I was prepared to take my chances with the bounty hunter however, seeing as he was only one man whereas in a squadron of guards there were more than ten.

My path through the woods slowly brought me to clearing. It was rather large and not far from the road but the only sounds which were floating in the air were those of birds idly chirping and the wind rustling through the trees. It seemed like a tranquil place, and it would have been...were it nor for the man in the middle of it. I found him sitting on a long forgotten tree stump jutting out of the ground, seemingly forgotten himself. The sword in his lap showed that he meant business however, and what a sword it was! It was a greatsword, yet sheathed in its scabbard as it was, I could only judge it by the craft laid into the making of its hilt and pommel. The pommel was made of finely polished steel which seemed to gleam in the sun while the hilt was of leather. The man was tall and clad in black from head to toe, yet he wore no armour so to speak off.

A long cape extended from his shoulders to the ground, and by the many tears in it it was well-worn. It was also muddied at the base, were it sometimes brushed the ground. As the man gazed at me, I could feel piercing blue eyes almost looking through me. He turned and rose from the stump, to his full height. We remained silent for a few moments as we seemed to size each other up. From the look of him, the man was a Breton. An exceptionally tall Breton, slightly taller than Beomir, but a Breton all the same.

"You must be the fugitive knight. I greet you Vilamon...or should I call you Arthago?" the man said with an eerie voice, low as a growl. His tone was menacing.

"And you must be the famed bounty hunter." I said, trying not to appear frightened, despite the fact that this man more than unnerved me.

"That is very astute of you...yet we are not here to exchange niceties. Show me your steel Redguard." the man hissed as he drew his blade from its scabbard. The greatsword gleamed in the sunlight, almost as long as I was tall. It was indeed of fine make, with a sharp edge.

"You've not even told me your name, and already you're trying to kill me?" I asked, trying to appear defiant. If this man was hellbent on slaying me, then I could at least annoy him before actually engaging in combat.

"My name is Oakheart for those who would know but you aren't one to be interested in my services. And I have tried to kill you before. Do you think it mere chance that you were abducted by the goblins and almost eaten before that oaf of an Argonian saved you by chance? Make no mistake however, I intend to finish what the goblins failed."

"You're not really one for conversation, are you?" I said as I drew my scimitar, holding it in my right hand.

"And you're not one to fight openly are you?" Oakheart said with a stinging tone. The man seemed never to smile. Men like that always unnerved me.

"Ladies first." I said with a forced smile. The man stared at me with a stony glare.

"You seem to be quick of tongue. Blades cut deeper than words however."

"Try me." I said with grim determination as I faced the towering bounty hunter.

Oakheart started to slowly circle to my side, closing the distance all the while. I did the same as he did yet in the opposite direction. Eventually, one of us would have to make the first move and commence combat. With an opponent such as this however I had to be on my guard. I never knew what tricks he might have under his sleeve. Or in his overly adorned belt for the matter. Several small phials were sheathed in his belt, to make them more accessible during heated combat apparently.

As he approached me more and more, the bounty hunter started slowly raising his sword to a battle-ready position. I did the same thing, yet his blade had far greater reach than mine. That was a great disadvantage in combat. If I could successfully close the distance however, I could turn my weakness into my strength. Longer swords were unwieldy at close quarters, unlike shorter blades like my own scimitar which was somewhat more catered to close combat. The bounty hunter had a look in his eyes, however, that seemed to say Your next move will be your last.

Before we could cross blades properly, however, we heard a stringent cry coming from the road. As I quickly turned to look, I could see several men on horseback approaching the clearing. When they finally entered I could see by their heraldry that they were men of Taneth, guardsmen by the look of them. They all seemed thoroughly surprised at seeing me and the bounty hunter ready to fight each other. The bounty hunter fixed them with that grim stare of his.

"What be the meaning of this?" one of the guards asked, a fat Imperial with an unkempt mustache.

"My name is Leo Oakheart and I've been commissioned by the Queen of Taneth herself to hunt down this fugitive. You will not stop me from bringing him in bounds back to Taneth." The bounty hunter said, rather angry that he had been interrupted.

"You're the bounty hunter eh? No wonder people get scared at the mere mention of your name Oakheart. The fugitive is going with us however. No sellsword like you is snatching our prize." The fat Imperial replied arrogantly. I seemed to be in luck.

"You wretches can barely lift your swords, let alone capture and subdue this fellow. He's mine, and you'd do best to leave this to me. This is the work of a bounty hunter, not drunken guardsmen like you." His hateful words were met only by the guards' loud laughter.

"You seem to forget, master Oakheart, that you are alone while there are four of us." The Imperial did have a point. The bounty hunter was alone and, whatever his skill, it was unlikely that he could take on four mounted men and win.

"You seem to have forgotten your place. I haven't followed this mark all the way from Taneth, only to have him taken by you at this point, after all my efforts. These are the seeds of my work that you're sowing." Trying to remind the guardsmen of their honour seemed like a bad course of action in my eyes however. Some of them started reaching for their swords as they stood witness to the bounty hunter's stubbornness.

"As a peasant sows, so does a noble reap. Stand aside bounty hunter." The fat guardsman said, trying to intimidate Oakheart. He didn't seem like a man to be easily intimidated however.

"You leave me no choice. If I'm to step over several corpses to fulfill my assignment, I would gladly step over yours, Imperial." Oakheart said, obvious scorn for the guardsmen in his words. Despite his grim demeanour and ways, I could discern some honour in the bounty hunter, something I found completely lacking in the guardsmen.

"Let's put this bast-"

The Imperial guardsman's insults were cut short, literally, by the bounty hunter's greatsword slicing through his throat. The other guardsmen, surprised and in awe at the bounty hunter's daring, were slow to act. One of them drew his sword and rode towards Oakheart while the others seemed to have forgotten they even had swords at their sides. The bounty hunter stood defiantly as the guardsman galloped towards him, sword raised and ready to strike Oakheart down. Oakheart stood like this, unmoving, until the very last moment when he quickly sidestepped the charging horse and severed its hind legs with a low slash of his greatsword. The horse came tumbling down, with the guardsman along it. The bounty hunter only completed a simple formality afterwards by going to the guardsman, who had been crushed under his horse, and thrusting his blade through his throat.

As blood gushed from the dead guardsman's neck, Oakheart turned to face the remaining two riders who had ridden away a short distance so as to gather their momentum for a charge. Against a single charging horse he might have stood a chance, but against two his plight was hopeless. In an incredible access of selfless courage, however, I saw myself running to the horse of the fat Imperial guardsman and vaulting into his place on the saddle. Thus mounted, I raised my scimitar and galloped towards the two guardsmen. As they saw me coming, one of them rode off to charge Oakheart while the other started galloping towards me. I kept my horse steady as I galloped towards the guardsman and he seemed to do the same with his horse. I held my blade high at my side while my opponent seemed to be preparing his own weapon for a whirling slash that would probably take my head off. Unarmoured as I was, I was extremely vulnerable yet I prepared my last minute tactics on the assumption that the guardsman would swing his blade high, aiming at my neck.

As both our horses galloped towards each other, I braced for impact, seemingly raising my own blade for a high slash, much like my opponent. I could almost see his smile as we neared each other. As soon as he started his swing however, I quickly lowered myself in the saddle, almost leaning down on my horse's neck, and slashed low across his stomach. I could feel my blade making contact as it cut across his side, spraying his blood across the ground as he fell from his saddle in pain.

Slowing my horse to a trot, I found that my little burst of mindless fearlessness had cost me. The guardsman's sword had cut me across the shoulder, dangerously close to my neck. Much as I expected, Oakheart was standing in front of me with another dead guardsman at his feet. This time however, he had spared the horse, merely unhorsing the rider. A sturdy blow from that greatsword of his could probably unhorse even a knight in full armour. As I rode up next to him, the bounty hunter gave me one of his usual looks yet this time it was somewhat different. I could also see the corner of his mouth slightly arching up, as if in a smile, yet I wasn't sure what that grimace meant.

"You've won your freedom for today. Go now, but remember that I will still follow you until either of us dies or the bounty on your head is annulled. Unless you are royalty however, I find that unlikely." The bounty hunter said, this time in a somewhat more respectful voice. I found myself smiling, even though I planned on not showing any particular emotion.

"You never know."
~~~
With that, ends this update which features a character that Mallet might find familiar.

This post has been edited by Agent Griff: Mar 13 2008, 08:31 AM

[jack cloudy]

That was interesting.

Though it does raise questions. What did he mean with the goblins? Did he hand over Arthago to them? He seems like the type who prefers to do the deed himself though and he's probably as good as Ah-Malz, if not better. So...why was Arthago left as Goblin-food?

Ah well, perhaps we'll find out during the next meeting.

[Agent Griff]

I'm glad you liked the last update and the introduction of the bounty hunter. And to explain a little since Metal Mallet has failed to reveal how he knows of this character, Leo Oakheart isn't merely a secondary character in this story. Since you too are a member of TES Fiction Jack, I point you to this thread. It surely explains more than I could.

Linky: http://www.tesfiction.proboards102.com/ind...&thread=211

But enough shameless plugs! Let's get on with the story.

~~~
After the chance meeting with the bounty hunter and the clash with the Taneth guards, I continued on the road to Rihad, this time on horseback. With that aspect of my image as a knight repaired, all I needed now was to reach the city and meet my contact. Said contact was, from Lhotun's word, a man infiltrated in king Sorian's court as a lowly courtier. From him I would get all the information I required so as to infiltrate the royal court of Rihad and reap havoc. I was disappointed however that I no longer had my two companions. Beomir wasn't really one for diplomacy but he had the cunning of a eunuch while Belwin didn't seem impressive outwardly but had great skill with the College of Illusion, a very potent type of magic if used properly. On my own, I was nothing more than a travelling warrior but together with them, I could have been mistaken for a lesser lord seeking king Sorian's favour.

For the time being however, I was content that I had a horse and that I was making good time to Rihad. As night started falling, I could see its great walls looming in front of me. Rihad was on the very southern edge of Hammerfell, close to the Cyrodiilic border. Knowing I was so close to a foreign province gave me goose-bumps. I had never travelled to any other province, except that ill-fated voyage to Daggerfall when I returned to Sentinel to find the city under siege. The notion of travelling to such an exotic land as Cyrodiil was currently out of my agenda, but with a man like Lhotun as my master, who knew were the future would take me? If I was lucky, I could probably end up with a patch of land to my name. If not, I could end up as an ambassador in some far away Nordic kingdom.

As I rode slowly towards the city however, the words of the bounty hunter kept coming to mind. I tried not to think about it, yet one way or another I always ended up thinking about what I could do the next time I met the bounty hunter. Fighting him seemed like the plainest option, yet he had great skill and even greater reach with that two-handed sword of his. If there was one thing I didn't like, it was fighting with long shafted weapons like spears or, to a smaller extent, greatswords. There was however the option of canceling my bounty. That was unlikely however, at least in the bounty hunter's eyes since I wasn't royalty. If I could speak to Lhotun though, I may have a chance of canceling the bounty on my head. Either that or surrendering to Clavilla of my own will. The latter choice however meant certain death.

It was clear that I was getting closer to the Imperial Province by the increasing patrols of the Imperial Legion that I met. It seemed surprising, now in retrospect, that the bloody skirmish I had in the woods with the Taneth guardsmen wasn't seen or heard by any passing legionnaires. As I thanked the Divines for granting me the luck of escaping, I neared the gates of the city. They were well-manned by guardsmen wearing the coat of arms of Rihad on their tunics, each and every one of them holding either a bow or a halberd in their hands. In case of an attack, the city wouldn't be easy to conquer. Lhotun had given me precise instructions of only infiltrating the king's court however. His instructions expressly forbid any involvement which was military in nature. Simply having a brawl with some Rihad guardsmen and revealing myself as a man of Sentinel was enough so as to be considered military provocation in the eyes of some rulers. I didn't really know what king Sorian was like, but from Lhotun's words he seemed like a decent king.

He was known to have one legitimate son who was, at seventeen years of age, the sole heir of the kingdom and at least two other illegitimate children, a son and a daughter. The son was almost nineteen years old and the daughter was of little consequence. In Hammerfell, unlike in other provinces, it was rather frowned upon to have bastards since it was considered as a stain on the honour of you family. Sorian however, was more open-minded about certain taboos of Redguard culture. In an unprecedented move, he even allowed his first illegitimate child a place at court alongside his father, sometimes acting as an adviser.

If it was true, then I was eager to meet this who would challenge so many traditions, merely to have one of his sons next to him. The thoughts of king Sorian soon passed from my mind as I entered the gates of Rihad, however. After paying to toll for passing into the city, along with a group of merchants, I made my way towards the tavern where I would meet my contact in the city. Even as dusk came into being, flooding the whole city with blood-red rays of light, I could still see that Rihad was a city with traditional Redguard architecture, despite its Forebear status. While making my way to the tavern, I also caught a glimpse of the famous Rihad concubine market, a great expanse of covered stalls and buildings which served only one use. I had not come to Rihad for the whores however, I had come with politics in mind. I would discover to my surprise though that the aforementioned elements often mix freely, at least in Rihad.

My contact was a pale-eyed man, tall and gaunt. The fact that he was cleanly-shaved only sharpened his features. He looked at me with those pale eyes of his, eying me as soon as I entered the tavern. Oddly enough, he was an Imperial. This was the first time I had ever met an Imperial working for Lhotun yet I suspected that it was not my last time. Much as his faction, Lhotun was always open to new ideas yet paid attention to Redguard tradition at the same time. It was my faction in name only, I knew very well that he controlled all of it yet I did not voice any displeasure, neither publicly nor privately. In truth, I cared little for his organization since Lhotun used it more like a group of enforcers to do his bidding. As the figurehead of these enforcers, I was now doing a great job. Taneth had been well shaken, it was now Rihad's turn.

"Great weather we're having this time of year eh?" The Imperial asked, trying to appear innocent. In truth, it was his password. I would have to answer properly if I wanted to convince him that I was the man he was looking for.

"The rains will wash away all rust." I said, trying to keep a serious face with an innocent voice at the same time. The Imperial smiled.

"It's great to finally meet you Arthago. Or, should I call you Vilamon?" The Imperial asked with a sly smile.

"At least while I'm in Rihad. How did you know my cover name however?"

"A mysterious Breton came in town recently, looking for a certain fellow who goes by the names of Vilamon and Arthago. That was all I could find out however. I don't think I've ever seen a more uptight man all my life." The Imperial said in an almost trivial manner.

"Was he by chance tall? With piercing blue eyes?" I asked as my face slowly went pale. Well, as pale as a Redguard can get.

"Aye, and with a sword almost as menacing as his attire. All clad in black he was. Safe to say, people all gave him a wide berth." The Imperial said as he looked at me intently, "Is there any problem?"

"I met such a man on the road to Rihad, yet I don't know how he could have overtaken me." I said, trying to mask my fear and replace it with mere surprise at the fact that the man had beaten me to Rihad. The Imperial gave me a knowing look and nodded.

"I sense there is more to this matter than you choose to reveal. Your words might say something, yet your eyes give me a very different message. Something tells me that the sharp end of that bloke's sword is meant for your throat." The Imperial said, speaking softly so as not to be heard, "You will find, Arthago, that Rihad is a dangerous place and it is good to have staunch friends in dangerous places. Men like myself, if I might say so. Severus Scaevola, at your service Sir Arthago. I can assure you that I can be trusted with many secrets."

"You seem to be quite astute when it comes to reading the expression of a liar," I said with a sour grin. "And I can assure you that I can be trusted to holding a man to his oath. Even a king." There was something about the Imperial's smile that somewhat unnerved me, much like the bounty hunter's lack of a smile. It was the smile of a cunning man who couldn't be trusted.

"Then your retribution must truly be terrible to witness. I am sure the late king Sosscan of Bergame can testify to that." Severus said with one more sly grin. Sosscan was the king that I had tortured and killed after finding out that he was indirectly behind the death of Marshal Daron. "But I would have no reason to fear you, as long as I am faithful to both you and your liege-lord King Lhotun."

"That is correct. I have found to my disadvantage however that men involved in politics rarely keep their given word, be it of their own choice or forced by the whims of others. I know however, and trust, in my King's ability to gather men of great skill and loyalty around. Especially the latter." I said as I patted Severus on the shoulder. "Enough of this grim talk however. Tell me about the affairs of king Sorian. I wish to know everything of his court and of his courtiers. Last of all, I wish to infiltrate his court and become one of his most trusted courtiers, so that I may ease this city's fall afterwards."

"Cruel words from one who would value honour and loyalty so much." Severus commented as he sipped from a mug of ale he had at hand. He invited me to sit down at a table and ordered a drink for me.

"I value loyalty and honour, yet only loyalty for my lord, King Lhotun. Loyalty for others, I have very little. Honour, even less so. At least, that is what I have come to find." I said, somewhat saddened, as I thought about the many dishonourable things I was forced to do in Lhotun's service.

"Very well then. I am of the same school of thought, Sir Arthago," Severus said with a slight bow of his head. After telling him to call me solely by name, he went on. "If you would wish to know about the affairs of the realm, and about all the lords, great and small, that make up the king's court, I would gladly tell all there is to know. By far, the king holds supreme power in the realm. The people respect him while his nobles find him to be a just ruler, if somewhat harsh at times. Sorian treats loyal subjects well, and his friends even better, but he reserves right of judgement when dealing with traitors to the realm and those who offend him or his family. Regarding his family, he has one legitimate son and two other base-born children whom he cares for greatly. His legitimate son and heir, Rhaenor, is a hot-headed seventeen-year-old who is brash in all his affairs. He is currently in a dispute of sorts with his father regarding a tournament in Elinhir he was not allowed to participate in."

"A great amount of information from someone who is only a lowly member of the court." I said with a slight grin. Severus frowned at the notion of being a lesser member of the king's court.

"Be that as it may, let me continue for there is much more to know. As I said, the king has his common-born children close to heart, unlike many rulers who do not even have knowledge of their many bastards. The son, Lucan, is very different from his half-brother. He is much more quiet and mindful of his surroundings. Pertaining to his father's decisions he never has any bold remarks to make, unlike his younger half-brother, nor any complaints. He just accepts them without even flinching. His father loves him well, yet none of the nobles accept his presence at court. They accept him only because of his father, since any insult brought to Lucan is considered an insult to Sorian. I believe I've already told you how Sorian deals with those who insult him or his family." Severus said, sometimes pausing to drink from his mug or belch. I found it impressive that he could keep so many small details intact and relay them with little pause.

"The girl does not concern my affairs. Go on with Sorian's personal retinue and court." I said with a rather blunt voice. Severus simply emptied his mug then continued. It seemed that he was instructed to accept most of my commands.

"Well, let's just say the king is rather open-minded when it comes to his retinue. He keeps a mute man as a bodyguard and an exile from Wayrest as one of his closest counselors on most matters." Severus said plainly.

"A Breton at the court of a Redguard king? That is truly unheard of." I said, surprised at what I heard. Severus kept a straight face however. He seemed to be used with the surprise visitors in Rihad had at hearing about the exiled Breton advising the Redguard king.

"Oh, but Sir Conrad Hornwood is truly flesh and bone. Actually, I think he would take offense at your doubting the fact that he can handle his position at court. He's been serving the king for some time now, a close counselor on most affairs, both personal and concerning the state. Most nobles frown upon his presence yet, as I've said, Sir Conrad has won their grudging acceptance through both skill at arms and the favour he has with the king. I'm sure, however, that the nobles would gladly slit his throat given the opportunity. Also, remember that these are Redguard nobles we are speaking of. These men have trained from infancy in the art of combat and I can assure you, from the duels I've seen, that they are all quite proficient when it comes to skill at arms. Sir Hornwood himself has fought a few of them in duels, I'm sure he could have a lot to tell you." Severus said, ending his sentence with one of his knowing smiles. "The mute man who guards the king with his life is one of those Redguard nobles who fought Sir Hornwood in his early days. He was sharp of tongue, slandering Sir Hornwood's heritage and calling him a pauper knight come to Rihad to beg at king Sorian's table. Surely enough, Sir Conrad took offense and proved to most of the nobles at court that he was a force to be reckoned with. Before fighting Wayn, for that is the noble's name, Sir Conrad made a wager with him. If he won, he would cut off Wayn's tongue for all his insults. If Wayn won, Sir Conrad's life was forfeit. We all know what happened afterwards."

"That is all fine and well, yet my goal is to infiltrate the court itself, not only to hear about the people who make it up. I suppose you cannot help me directly with this task." I said with a rather pessimistic tone. I was used, by now, to be sent around on errands instead of cutting to the head of the matter. It was at this point that Severus' limited position revealed itself.

"Well, I am in a predicament with some nobles." Severus said as his eyes glanced around the tavern, somewhat embarrassed, "That situation will end however, sooner or later. I know just the man you need to talk to however."

Seeing his grin as he said those words instantly made me realize that what he was about to propose wouldn't be easy.
~~~
That was it for this chapter which introduces Rihad. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

This post has been edited by Agent Griff: Mar 13 2008, 09:59 PM

[Marcel Rhodes]

That was it for this chapter which introduces Rihad. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

In that case, I'm going to assume you enjoyed writing this a fair bit, because I enjoyed reading it. It's interesting to see Redguard culture, especially as indirectly as by someone who breaks it.

I suspect trouble is building up again for Arthago...

[jack cloudy]

Woot, lots of information in this one. That informant is damn well-informed, although most of it I consider to be public knowledge.

And maybe I have a sick mind or something, but I wouldn't be surprised if the master plan for Arthago's infiltration happened to involve charming the 'girl who does not concern his affairs.' There was that little tidbit at the market after all.

Heh, that reminds me of Rajn's infiltration in Cyrodiil's palace. I hope Arthago does it a bit better though, and is not seen through within all of five seconds.

[Agent Griff]

I seem to have another reader. Great. As to what you said Jack, Arthago will be paying a visit to the Concubine markets yet not in the way you have envisioned. I leave my update to enlighten you all, however.

~~~
The task laid out to me by Severus Scaevola was indeed nothing but trouble. If I were to succeed, I would earn the enmity of a few brothels and at least one noble. If I were to fail, then I had no idea what I could do to infiltrate the court save kidnapping the king's bastardd and ransoming his life against a position in the king's court.

Severus had given me a list of several brothels where I could find a certain weak-willed noble, as he described it. This noble was apparently easy to manipulate and, through him, I could gain entrance to the personal court of the king and become a lesser courtier at the least. I took solace in knowing that the famed Breton at the court of king Sorian, Sir Conrad Hornwood, had begun his rise as a lowly courtier as well. Of course, he rose quickly through the ranks by defeating several established Redguard nobles who were his superiors. I would face no such opposition from the other nobles, at least not in the violent fashion Sir Hornwood received it. The nobles would surely loathe me, consider me an upstart hedge knight and all that, yet for all their scorn at least I would be considered a Redguard knight born and bred, not a foreigner like Sir Hornwood.

Of course, my status as a sure-blooded Redguard would do nothing to lessen the insults I could receive from other Redguard nobles who were just as sure-blooded as I was. If I was lucky, I wouldn't have to fight more than two duels to keep my honour unstained. If I wasn't, then I could very well face the same welcome Sir Hornwood received.

All such thoughts faded from my mind, however, when I entered the district that housed the Rihad concubine market. It was also home to numerous brothels of various repute, since the words 'concubine' and 'prostitute' were often close in meaning and not only in Rihad. Severus had assured me that he knew all the madams from the brothels I was about to visit, and that almost all of them owned him favours. After visiting two of the brothels though, I found neither the noble I was looking nor the favours promised by Severus. A disappointing start to a hopefully not-so disappointing day. After the third brothel, however, my luck finally struck. It was an odd brothel by all accounts yet a classy one nonetheless. The madam was an old Redguard woman sharp of tongue and wit. All around her, I could see old men of various weariness with thin wooden canes in their hands. After asking about the noble several times, the old hag finally revealed that he was truly an active patron of the brothel.

"Names are dangerous in my line of work though," the woman kept saying somewhat cautiously, "And you would surely do best if you looked for another noble to pester. This one isn't likely to appreciate it."

"I trust you keep a ledger with the names of all your 'customers'." I said, not paying much attention to the woman's words. At first she pretended not to hear me as well, yet after I stuffed a pouch of Lhotun's gold in her pocket her mouth started unwinding. Besides, I knew from the very beginning that all respectable brothels in Rihad had annotated ledgers where all customers were listed. Prostitution was, after all, an honest, legal practice in Rihad and justly taxed by the state. Any brothel which didn't supply a ledger when the king's men came calling was either outlawed or shut down entirely. At least Severus had told me so.

"Well, now that you put it that way, young master, we do have a freshly written ledger as of today. It contains an up-to-date list of all patrons, including the one you seek. Would you like it in duplicate form? We have a very skilled scribe in our employ and we always aim to please our paying customers." The woman said eagerly as she weighed the pouch of gold and rubbed her hands. I frowned.

"I'm not a paying customer. Just give me the ledger and take me to the person I'm looking for and I'll leave you to your own...affairs." I said with some restraint as the woman went off to one of the old men with canes. I had little respect for either those who worked in brothels or the ones who paid for their services. I tried to show courtesy to the madam, however, since I never liked being rude.

"He will take you to the man you're looking for. Try not to be too forceful with either him or my girl. It wouldn't do to have bloodshed between my walls. There's enough liquid between these walls as it is and I wouldn't appreciate adding blood to the mix." The woman said with care for her choice of words. This place was vulgar enough as it was without the madam adding to the uncouth things already going on.

It turned out soon enough that the man leading me to the room where the noble was enjoying the services on offer was blind. All of the old men in the brothel were apparently. Hence the canes. It seemed to be a way in which the customers could keep their pride and honour to themselves, without anyone else witnessing the act. The ledger was enough dishonour in my opinion, however.

As I reached the door, I thanked the man and sent him off on his way. As I stood in front of the door, I thought about what my course of action was. I could barge into the room with my blade in my hand, but that would probably lead to 'forceful action' as the madam had called it. It was better to have a somewhat more subtle approach in these situations. Besides, a man was most vulnerable when caught with his pants down...literally. That, and very liable to do brash things like, for example, lashing out violently at the one who had just caught them in the act. As I prepared to open the door, Severus' words echoed in my mind. He had told me that the noble was married, and that it would be a stain on his honour if word were to spread that he had been caught bedding a prostitute. With those words in mind, I opened the door.

The noble, named Salahar, almost jumped out of the bed entirely when he saw me enter the room with my hand firmly on the hilt of my scimitar. His hands were also firmly grasping at something, yet it was far from a weapon. The prostitute, still in the bed, clumsily attempted to cover herself with the bed sheets. Salahar slowly got up from the other side of the bed, tugging at his pants as he looked at me, wide-eyed. After the prostitute fled the room wrapped in the bed-sheets, I finally felt ready to speak.

"How silly a married man can look in a whorehouse, wouldn't you agree?" I said, trying to sound calm and collected. Salahar looked anything but calm and collected.

"It is not comely for a stranger to barge inside a private room in such a manner. Neither is it comely to...interrupt a fellow man from his needs." Salahar said, fear and slight desperation in his voice. He tried appealing to my sense of honour. Little use it would do him.

"That sounds very shallow, coming from a man such as you. I have a poor view of men who cheat on their wives, Salahar. Especially nobles, who should be an example for the masses." I said, calmly moving over to the other side of the room. It was finely decorated in Imperial style, with lacquered oak furniture and carpets.

"How do you know my name? Do you...even know who I am? You have...you have no right to be here!" Salahar said with desperation as he seemed to scramble for a weapon. There were none at hand however.

"Why, I would say I have more right to be here than you do. I, for one, have paid more to be in this room." I said calmly, referring to the bribe I had given to the madam. "But enough about me. Does the king know you are cheating on your wife with such people of ill-repute?" His face seemed to go white with fear at the very mention of the king.

"The...the king has bastards of his own. What...what right does he have to judge me?" Salahar asked, his eyes filled with fear. He probably envisioned the executioner raising the blade as he spoke.

"His right as king." I said, letting the word 'king' float in the air a while, so the fear would properly ingrain itself in Salahar. "And since Rihad brothels are ever so orderly, I also have a ledger which proves that you have visited this very brothel. Many times in fact. Does your dear wife know you've been cheating on her with over eight different women these past months?"

"If you knew my wife...you would-"

"-would condemn you even more than I already do. Yes, I know." I said, interrupting the frightened Salahar.

"Please, have reason. I can pay you with your weight in gold, if only you kept silent. I promise it shall...never happen again. That I swear." The man seemed so desperate, he was already swearing oaths so I could keep my silence. Severus had been right when he named the noble weak-willed.

"Save your gold. What would your whores do without it? Then again, that really isn't my concern. There are some ways however in which you can regain your honour in my eyes...and in which no one else shall know about your adulterous pursuits." I said, looking into the eyes of the frightened man. If it was up to me, I would have gladly slain the man myself, yet he was the only way in which I could have gained entry into the king's court.

"Yes?" He asked as the light in his eyes seemed to return. I could also see a glint of joy.

"Present me to the king as a travelling knight who would defend his name by any means available to him. Vouch for me and praise me for my skill, both martial and diplomatic. If you succeed, I will keep my silence regarding this matter. If you fail, then you will fall together with me, once the king finds out about your pass-time." I said with a cold voice. It was really the only choice I had available, though it left room for error.

"Of course. Anything you ask, just keep silent on this matter. If my wife's brother finds out he would surely...oh, bugger, I've already said too much. Meet me tomorrow in the reception hall of my king's palace. We will make a sworn knight of you yet." He said as he seemed to regain his calm and composure. I forced myself not to smile however because of my small success.

"Where's the 'we' in this, my lord? If you fail, you will be the one to face the executioner...or worse. Farewell, and expect me tomorrow at the palace." I said brusquely as I turned and left the room.

I grinned as I left the whorehouse, a large grin of success and a smirk of pride. I had never really cultivated my skill with threatening people and appearing menacing in general, yet I was overjoyed at seeing how I could terrorize the noble with the mere mention of his wife, the king and the ledger with his name on it. It had probably never occurred to the noble that, sooner or later, someone would use such a ledger against him. Ultimately however, men learn from their mistakes. Next time, the noble would probably be harder to blackmail.

Severus had told me shortly before I left the tavern that we were to meet in discreet places and that I should try to avoid his home, since people could notice. Rihad was apparently a place where most of the walls had eyes and the nobles all strived to be one step ahead of each other when it came to information. Severus had also warned me that, if I succeeded in entering the court, I should treat him with cold indifference so as not to arouse any suspicions whatsoever.

For the time being however, my sole concern was finding a place to sleep. An inn would do finely and soon enough I found one fitting my tastes. It looked to be a well-tended building from the outside, cosy and welcoming to travellers weary from the roads. After renting a room for twenty drakes, I bought a drink and stood at the bar a little to enjoy my ale. A refreshment was welcome after such a hard day in which I had met a bounty hunter, killed a man and blackmailed a noble. Of course, it was nothing Salahar could praise me for so only the eradication of the goblin clan would have to do. That, and what other things Salahar might invent over night, in bed with his wife. I would have no one to warm my bed as Salahar had, yet I was thankful that I at least had a warm, cosy bed and that nobody would bother me. Nobody except for the damn bounty hunter, but he was currently the least of my problems.
~~~
I hoped you liked this update in which we start delving into the morass which is...Rihad!

This post has been edited by Agent Griff: Mar 16 2008, 06:53 AM

[The Metal Mallet]

Sorry about the delay in replying to this story. I have been busy lately. I certainly remember Oakheart quite clearly though. Arthago will definitely have his hands full dealing with that one for sure.

With this recent update I have to say I liked the sly way Arthago dealt with him. Now all he'll have to do is rise up in the ranks, surely a task harder than it sounds.