Disclaimer: I don't own Skyrim, but if I did, I would likely crown myself and raise an army of dragons. Because really, what else would I need in life? "Now Paarthurnax, to the grocery store! Hyah! ...Erm, I meant 'please'?" ;D

Chapter 1

Shadows of the Moons

As dusk gave way to a moonless night, the khajiit approached the cave. Rumors of bandits spewing forth from this location swirled around the nearby inns, warning travelers away. Between the ransacked caravans and murdered travelers, a rather tempting bounty had been issued for the vagabonds' elimination.

One that the feline fully intended to collect.

Clouds began to roll in like an ominous hand, slowly choking out the stars. The khajiit checked her map again, her eyes seeing clearly and easily in the darkest of places. A good thing too, because it meant that she could use her uncanny stealth to creep up within a hand-span of an enemy and dispatch them, all without them ever knowing she was there. Torches were nothing but a liability.

She glanced up, marking the river, burned tree stump, and charred, cracked boulder near the entrance. It fit the description perfectly. She nodded to herself as she folded her map and tucked it back in her safest belt pouch. This was it. The nameless cave the innkeeper had marked on her map. Slowly, she crept out from her hiding place behind two boulders. Her clawed hand reached up for the bow slung across her back, but prudence stopped her. It was likely to be close quarters inside. With an audible sigh, she drew her enchanted dagger with only a whisper and stalked into the cave.

The tracks leading down from the ransacked caravan were almost a day old when the dunmer came upon the grisly scene. The mangled remains revealed two men, two women, a boy growing his first beard and a girl barely old enough to walk. Two more bodies were burned beyond recognition. Sword hilt clutched tightly in anger at such a massacre, he studied the tracks again and read the story they told. An ambush, met with little resistance. The few defenders were likely taken by surprise and overpowered easily, judging from the lack of enemy corpses. Large amounts of common household goods remained, carelessly strewn about the road. The dunmer frowned, surmising that bandits were the likely culprit. The vagabonds seemed to have found little in the way of worthwhile loot in either of the two wagons. Looking at the trail again, he noted ten, perhaps twelve sets of footprints leading away. Stepping around the body of one of the horses used to pull the wagons, he made to follow.

Attacking these people would be their last mistake.

Just after nightfall, he caught a glimpse of a cave opening before black clouds stole the starlight. Crouching behind two boulders, he waited and watched, making sure there were no sentries posted outside. The arrogant fools didn't seem to have bothered. Irritated, he lifted the patch covering his right eye, scratched his brow before replacing the black strip of cloth. Absently he traced at the trio of parallel scars that peeked out from under the patch as he waited. Satisfied that the threat of a sentry was minimal, and activity seemed low, he drew his slender, curved sword and, like a wraith, he entered the cave.

Her ears swiveled forward and backward as her slow, rolling footsteps carried her deeper into the cave. An incessant dripping resounded softly through the passages, and even though her own steps were but a whisper, she timed her footfalls methodically to match. The first two bandits had been easy enough to deal with, as one had been asleep at her post and the other so far into his ale he was rendered inert. Still, she did not lower her guard.

Rounding a corner, she came upon the third of the nefarious crew. He stood a fair length away in front of a junction where the passage gently diverged to the left and right. Lazily, he kicked out his leg and spun to walk to and fro, returning to stand in the same position. Confident that she was safely concealed in shadow, she watched for a time as he repeated the action, or simply ambled without meaning. Determining that he was too sporadic in his movements to be able to get close enough to use her dagger, she slowly slid her blade back into its sheath and removed the bow from her back. Nocking an arrow, she pulled back on the bowstring gradually until the fletching brushed her cheek, and loosed the arrow. The string thrummed deeply as the arrow sped forth, hitting the bandit's forehead and splintering the skull on impact. The body toppled to the floor with a thud. The khajiit readied another arrow, listening for any sound that indicated someone had heard, but the meticulous drip of water was all that greeted her. She quickly returned the arrow to her quiver and moved forward, picking up the body, exhaling at the weight and stowed it in a dark niche in the rocky wall. The pool of blood and bits of flesh and bone would not be so easy to hide, but it wasn't vital. The bodies were the most crucial to conceal to minimize the risk of someone raising the alarm throughout the cave. A capable warrior she was, but it was foolish to have to fight harder when one could simply fight smarter.

Drops of water fell from the ceiling, landing on her unadorned head. Annoyed, she wiped her fur clean. Stupid water.

She came to the fork in the passage and looked down both ways for a moment. Seeing nothing of immediate interest, she went left.

The dunmer paused just inside the cave. Something wasn't right. Cautiously, he continued on for a few more steps before halting. His one good eye searched the space of a small "room" being used for storage and bedrolls. Decades of life experience compelled him to be wary, though he could not say what it was that stood amiss. Somehow it felt too quiet. He moved toward the bedrolls and stack of crates. Something dark on the wall caught his eye. Leaning closer, he shifted his body to let the light from the dying fire nearby shine on the aberration.

Blood.

What in Azura's name was going on? Could it have been an animal attack? No, he reasoned, there was no body nearby and no drag marks. Moreover, the scene was much too clean. Without his odd vigilance, he never would have noticed the blood on the wall. Intrigued, he continued his surveillance. Peering behind the stack of crates, he found a large burlap sack bearing the same color stain. Cautiously, he reached out and drew back the heavy cloth. He grimaced as the body of a bandit female with her throat slit open was revealed. Beside her, sat a wadded up bedroll, saturated with blood. The kill had been quick and efficient with a clean cut. He pursed his lips and moved on, determined to find more clues.

Down a short tunnel, he came to a fork in the passage. Still wary, he noticed a larger pool of blood with bits of bone. This one was fresh as well. The dunmer searched the scene and soon found another body tucked into a small fissure in the wall. He paused, deep in thought. Someone was in the cave ahead of him, that much was clear. But why had they taken such meticulous care in hiding the remains of the outlaws? His curiosity piqued, he moved on, intending to find out.

At the junction, he heard footsteps pacing in the tunnel to the right. He listened, his back pressed against the wall near the opening, just in case. Yet the steps came no closer, nor did they withdraw, prompting him to risk slowly peering into the passage. A bandit stood leaning with his back against the wall, arms folded. His eyes were shut as if he'd much rather be asleep at the moment than standing guard. The dunmer studied the corridor. There would be enough room to swing a sword, he determined, running his thumb along the hilt of his cherished Akaviri long blade. After a moment, the bandit turned away, towards a barrel that held a tankard and bottle of mead, and poured a drink. The dunmer smiled and, wasting no time, crossed the distance.

Judging from the resplendent armor, the large human was most likely their leader. The khajiit pondered nocking another arrow and taking him out from her hiding place by a stalagmite across the cavern, but there were two other bandits nearby to contend with and one wore the robes of a mage, complete with a staff. The khajiit bared her fangs in distaste; she hated dealing with mages. Battling an enemy that could set your skin on fire or riddle your body with spears of ice from a distance was unpleasant to say the least. Yes, she concluded, the mage would have to die first. After that, she would have to trust in her hiding place in the shadows to keep her from being detected and having to fight an unnecessary battle.

Her decision made, she waited. Timing would be vital. Ideally, she wanted all three of her targets to face away from both her and the path the arrow would take to minimize the risk of them easily figuring out her location. She smiled, for she had already had the luxury of sleeping and her patience while on a job was vast as the seas.

Time seemed to crawl by until, at last, she saw the opening she was waiting for, and pulled back on the bowstring. She fired, and the arrow sped off amid the thrum of the string, striking the target true in the back of the head. The khajiit remained motionless, crouched in the shadows, as the leader and his underling shouted alarm and ran for cover, seeking all the while the source of the arrow.

"Over there!" shouted a hoarse voice.

She swore silently as, from around another mound of stalagmites came a khajiit male followed by another bandit. A torch flew from across the room and landed near enough to illuminate a small area near her. Another arrow flew from her bow in a breath, shattering the male khajiit's jaw and bursting through the other side, felling him. She cursed herself for her lack of foresight in scouting for other rooms and passages. Now that carelessness had cost her her hiding place and her advantage.

One of the men moved back and to the side and drew out a bow while the other two rushed toward her. Returning her bow to her back, she drew her twin orc-made swords. In a blink, she bolted, pushing away from the wall and positioning the men between herself and the archer as an arrow glanced off the wall behind her. The leader brandished a war hammer in both hands and raised it overhead. She dodged to the side at the last moment and struck at his arm and the side of his neck and ribs in succession, trying to find an opening in the full plate armor, but to no avail.

The other male, armed with shield and sword, moved to block her escape through the tunnel from which she had emerged while the leader shifted position to block the way the male khajiit had come from and provide the archer with a clear line of fire. At a flash of steel, she half turned to parry a sword slash aimed for her throat, redirecting the blade toward the ground. Only then did she see the hammer begin its deadly arc downward.

The dunmer continued through the passage, after quickly eliminating the sleeping forms of two other bandits, he found no further resistance. He paused, listening as a cry resounded through the cave. Clanking armor and shouts echoed in its wake. It sounded as if the mysterious hunter before him had been discovered. He quickened his pace, still crouched low, and came out of the passage into a large cavern dotted with stalagmites and stalactites growing at odd intervals. Quickly scanning the area, he spotted two men engaging a feline form that was skillfully evading their attacks. A few steps away from his own position stood an archer pulling another arrow from his quiver. Without a second thought, the dunmer bounded toward him and, with a single sweep of his blade, severed the bandit's head from his body.

With all her strength, she turned toward the hammer, bringing both blades up and crossing them. She thrust herself forward and aimed her block for the leader's gloved hands, where the swing's momentum had the least power. Too slow, she made it only halfway down the hammer's length and she tensed her arms, back, and legs to absorb the blow. Her body cried out in protest as the jarring force resonated through her, but she had no time to waste. At the moment of impact, she threw aside the hammer with all the strength she could muster, nearly knocking it from its master's grasp. Using the momentum of the deflection, she spun and lashed out with her right blade at the second bandit's throat before he could defend. Astonishment showed on his face as her sword slashed through chain mail deep into his throat and embedded in bone. Dropping his sword and shield, he grabbed futilely at the blade, weakly attempting to pull it out. Now, with her blade stuck fast, there remained no other choice but to shove him away as the leader swung again, this time in a horizontal arc. Reacting on instinct, she leapt out of the way and rolled back to her feet.

Enraged, the leader charged forward, simultaneously raising his war hammer for a downward chop. She swore, eyes darting to the discarded blade just out of her reach. She didn't have the strength to block the strike with only one sword. Breathing heavily, she leapt backwards. Still, she brought up her sword to deflect, but the strike easily drove past and grazed her shoulder, causing her to cry out and stumble, falling fully onto her back. Before she could move, the bandit was upon her, the hammer already arcing down again. She closed her eyes, briefly hoping death would be quick.

A whoosh of air and shattering ice met her ears, followed by a heavy thud and clatter. Her eyes snapped open and she searched rapidly for her aggressor. There beside her feet sprawled the body of the bandit leader, a bloody icicle as long as her forearm speared through his head. She whipped around, catching sight of a dunmer male standing a short distance away, left hand outstretched and glowing in an eerie frosted light. He walked toward her, and reflexively, she tried to raise her sword. She gasped as she pushed herself up on her injured right arm.

"Easy there," the dunmer's voice soothed. "Shall I assume you are responsible for dispatching the bandits in this cave?"

"And if I am?" she returned, eyes narrowing.

He chuckled, "You have a very interesting way of doing things."

Wiping off and sheathing his blade, he knelt down beside her and reached out his hand. She hissed, snapping fanged jaws at him.

"If I wanted to harm you," he stated calmly, holding up his right hand which began to glow, "we would not be having this conversation, as one sided as it may be."

She frowned, and agreed, "I... suppose you're right." She watched him, still wary, as he reached behind her with his left hand and gently slid it under her left shoulder blade. Slowly, he helped her to sit up. She took a moment to study this newcomer. His right eye was covered with a black patch with three parallel jagged scars peeking out from beneath it. His set of leather armor and knee-high boots were dyed a charcoal black that even her eyes had trouble separating from the shadows. Straight, soft-colored black hair hung down to the middle of his back, tied loosely with a leather chord. Yet most striking of all was the hue of his skin. It was the palest shade of light blue she had ever seen in a dunmer. Moreover, with his naturally crimson eye color, she couldn't help but wonder as the question forming in her mind blurted straight from her mouth.

"Are you a vampire?"

The elf seemed taken aback by the sudden outburst, then laughed heartily. "Not to my knowledge, but if I am, I would be a fairly poor one at that. I mean, why kill with magic when I could have simply chomped down on him?" he tried to contain his laughter as he gestured toward the downed bandit leader.

The dunmer's humor was infectious and the khajiit couldn't help but chortle, wincing as her shoulder protested. "Sorry for snapping at you," she apologized. "I'm Daro'Zavi. Thank you for saving me. I appreciate the help."

The dunmer smiled. He liked the blunt and open honesty of this one. "I am Eclipse, and you are welcome. Now, let us tend to that shoulder of yours."

"That's not necessary," she replied quickly. "You've done more than enough." She shifted position to stand, only to stop with a curse as her shoulder sharply objected again.

"Do not be foolish. There is no shame in letting someone assist you. It is absurd to steadfastly trudge forth in pain simply for the sake of retaining your pride."

"Not one to mince words, I see."

He laughed, and mockingly echoed in a higher pitch, "Are you a vampire?"

"Point taken," she sighed, and with her good arm, began to unfasten her damaged leather pauldron.

"Unfortunately, I am not very well-versed in healing others, but this should ease your pain," he apologized as he placed his hand lightly on her sleek-furred shoulder.

She sighed as a warm golden glow shimmered briefly, and the pain receded to a dull ache. Standing with his help, she moved to reclaim her sword, wincing again as she placed weight on her right leg.

"You are quite the mess, eh?" he chided gently.

"Quiet you wastrel," she spat back, with a grin.

Doing her best to hide her limp, she walked over to her blade and levered it out of the bandit's throat. Then she hobbled over to the leader, and searched the corpse for a time, turning it over.

"Ah-ha!" she declared triumphantly.

Eclipse watched in puzzlement as she thrust her blade downward, severing some of the fingers on the bandit's right hand. Picking up one of the digits, she wrestled with it for a time, and seemed to pull something off it. Satisfied, she stood, and tossed something at him. He made an effort to catch the tiny object, but in the gloom of the cave, he stood no chance.

"Hm, I forget you cannot see in the darkness as I can," she offered in the way of an apology.

Moving forward, she bent down near him, picked up what she had thrown, and held it out to him. He studied the item in his palm. A bloodied ring with the face of a skull leered back at him. He turned his gaze quizzically to the khajiit, only to find her holding out a paper to him.

"The mark of one of the White-River Raider's Ringleaders," she paused and laughed suddenly. "Ha! I get it! Ring. Leader. Ringleader!" Seeing the dunmer only continue to stare, she cleared her throat and hurried on. "This is the bounty for their elimination," she shook the paper. "The ring is proof of death. And I think you deserve to be the one to collect the reward. After all, you're the one who actually killed the leader. Moreover, you saved my life. I'm grateful for that, so I want you to be the one to get the money."

He stared a moment longer, thinking. He had been on the road for quite some time and his funds were running low. This bounty would be a welcome addition. Yet he shook his head and replied, "I could not. You killed many more than I did. I merely saw an opportunity and struck."

"What happened to 'don't be foolish, pride is evil, and there's nothing wrong with letting people help you' hmm?" she asked, and he imagined she was raising an eyebrow.

"I see we both need work when it comes to practicing the actions we would see in others," he admitted. "Very well, I will accept the bounty. You have my thanks."

"And you mine," she replied.

He took the parchment and tucked it and the ring into a pouch in his belt.

"I assume the Jarl of Whiterun was the one to issue the bounty then?" Eclipse asked.

"Oh, right. I guess that would have been helpful to mention. Yes, he was," she replied, and the dunmer could just make out the outline on her ears pulling back flat against her head. "Do you know where it is from here?" she continued. "My house is there, so I could show you the way."

He paused a moment, thinking. He knew the path well enough, but injured as she was, it was unlikely Daro'Zavi would fare well on her own. Yet she was even more unlikely to accept his assistance if he offered. His conscience wouldn't let him leave her to face whatever threats stood on the road between her and the city, and her pride would likely not allow his aid. Thus, he determined, a tactful lie was in order.

"Yes, that would be quite welcome," he smiled.

Her hand on his shoulder, the two exited the cave together. Patches of magnificent stars still shone between breaks in the black clouds. They walked slowly for a time, making small, yet methodical progress along the main road. Dawn began to battle the clouds, managing to cast a faint light upon the land. Eclipse allowed Daro'Zavi to set the pace and tried to subtly glance out his good eye to study the strange female in the burgeoning light. Beneath her simple set of leather armor, was, what he had to admit, a lovely deep gray coat of fur speckled with black spots. Her eyes were a startlingly iridescent turquoise he had never before seen in any other individual, and it took him a moment to realize he was staring. Fortunately, she seemed too focused on her footing to notice.

Quickly, he looked away back down the long road, scanning the dim wilds for any sign of danger. By the time the sun reached its zenith, they caught sight of the imposing walls of Whiterun and its massive keep. Unhurried, they moved on, steadfastly trudging forward.