Fall of a Kingdom
Chapter one
4E 122 Spring
Dodge left. Side-step right. Block.
'Clang'.
The ringing of metal echoes. Block a downward blow, parry. Aim for the under arm. Opponent dodges. Leaps and rolls away from his opponent. Leap. Dagger is knocked from his hand. A sword held steady at his throat.
A young, pale white Khajiit, a Cathay, tries to twist away from the grip of his opponent.
"Enough Ma'Randil. You have been beaten. Let us not stretch this any further." Ma'Randil stoped struggling. Ma'Randil is released from his opponents grasp. He was fighting DoK'Talyc, one of the senior warrior instructors of the Assassin order. DoK'Talyc was a Cathay-raht, one of the largest type of bipedal khajiit. There were a few spectators watching, though they all knew the outcome. It was highly unlikely that Ma'Randil, a cub of age seven would best a warrior of age forty-two; no, not unlikely, impossible.
"You are improving Ma'Randil. But you still need to practice." DoK'Talyc told him. Ma'Randil simply nodded.
"Do not worry young cub. Your father will be proud." DoK'Talyc smiled at him.
Ma'Randil's father, DoK'Jossiem, a Ohmes-Raht, was one of the assassin's senior stealth operatives. He had high expectations of his apprentices, and especially of his son, Ma'Randil.
The Khajiit in question was on a mission. He and his apprentice, Ma'Shanji were assigned to disrupt the moon sugar and skooma trade in the southern port city of Penchal. From Penchal, skooma and moon sugar could be sent all over the coasts of Tamriel. All the while the Thalmor reaped the gold from the business, keeping Elsweyr firmly under their thumb.
Skooma and moon sugar were outlawed in the assassin's, especially in the fortress of Masyaf. If found doing moon sugar, the offender would be whipped thirty times and put in a cell for three months. If caught doing skooma you would be whipped sixty times and put in a cell for six months. Most died from the whipping. And if they didn't, the withdrawal from skooma and moon sugar surely would finish the job. If they did survive, the offender was deemed too strong for the brotherhood to lose. Coincidentally, all survivors never touched skooma or moon sugar again.
DoK'Jossiem both hated and pitied the skooma and moon sugar addicts. There were those who believed that moon sugar and skooma held small portions of the gods' souls, and that consuming the substances would allow them to absorb the souls of the gods. DoK'Jossiem pitied them. They had been lied to and mislead. They did not deserve punishment, they deserved help. There were the moon sugar farmers, DoK'Jossiem also pitied them. They were forced to work long hours and with little wage; barely better than slaves. DoK'Jossiem wished to help them. Then there were the dealers and traders. A few of them thought they were spreading the souls of their gods, but most knew of the disease they were spreading; they would feel the sting of his blade. DoK'Jossiem knew what souls the moon sugar and skooma had in it, it was the souls of the darker gods, Daedra, as the outsiders called them, more specifically, the soul of Sheggorath.
The Mad god.
"Mentor?" Ma'Shanji asked Dok'Jossiem.
"Yes?"
"You zoned out for a few seconds is everything alright?"
"Yes."
Ma'Shanji nodded. He trusted his mentor to know what he was doing. DoK'Jossiem was from the southern parts of Elsweyr and would know the way through the city better than him, a northern Khajiit.
The two were perched on a tree branch several feet thick.
"Let's get moving." DoK'Jossiem told his apprentice. DoK'Jossiem burst ahead, Ma'Shanji following close behind. The two flew through the trees with enough grace and silence to make a bosmer blush, the night and shadows keeping them hidden. DoK'Jossiem slowed, and so did Ma'Shanji. Still perched high in the trees, they saw below them a warehouse used to store skooma before it was to be shipped out to the surrounding provinces. Ma'Shanji shared his mentors view on moon sugar and skooma, as did most within the brotherhood. Skooma was one of the main reasons the Khajiit were looked down upon by the other races; that and the thieving, though that wasn't entirely untrue.
"You know the plan?" DoK'Jossiem asked Ma'Shanji.
Ma'Shanji nodded.
DoK'Jossiem nodded in return. Signaling the beginning of the operation, the two unsheathed their bows. With the darkness of night concealing them they moved through the trees. DoK'Jossiem's assassin training would never allow him to move in anything but silence. And their foes weren't some dumb, sense-blind Nord. These were Khajiit guarding the warehouse. Their senses were sharp and their minds were clever.
Using a hand signal, DoK'Jossiem ordered Ma'Shanji to halt. DoK'Jossiem cocked his bow ready with a glass arrow painted black. Through the trees two sentries could be seen standing guard on a platform. They were dressed in leather armour and cloth.
"Take the one on the left. I'll take the one on the right." DoK'Jossiem whispered to Ma'Shanji. Ma'Shanji responded by readying his bow.
"Loose." DoK'jossiem whispered.
Simultaneously the two arrows flew through the air. The two projectiles buried themselves deep within their targets. The sentries fell to the ground. DoK'Jossiem maneuvered through the tangles of branches and vines to the platform the two now dead khajiits lay.
"May death grant you peace." DoK'Jossiem prayed for them when he reached their bodies. He knelt down and gently closed their eyes. They moved the bodies out of site and continued on their way. They avoided killing when they could, but at times one must stain their blade with blood. The two assassins shifted their way into the heart of the compound. Finally, they reached the main warehouse.
DoK'Jossiem crawled through a window. At first, he was fearful of someone noticing his shadow. But it appeared that the couple of guards stationed inside the warehouse were more focused on their game of dice than looking for intruders. A lone candle on their makeshift table sent long shadows along the interior of the warehouse. DoK'Jossiem motioned for Ma'Shanji to join him. Silently, DoK'Jossiem hand signed Ma'Shanji his plan. Ma'Shanji nodded his understanding and signed his parts of the plan back to DoK'Jossiem. The two moved in opposite directions along the catwalk (puns puns puns) they were on, staying to the shadows.
DoK'Jossiem slithered through the shadows of the warehouse. Silently he moved behind one of the guards. The guards were not Khajiit like the others, they were Altmer, this caused DoK'Jossiem to pause. What were the Altmer doing guarding moon sugar and skooma? Sure, they made a profit from the taxes, but why would the Thalmor send soldiers to guard a Khajiit business? Without warning, the door to the warehouse crashed open. DoK'Jossiem had pre-planned a contingency for this. He shifted away from the high elf and wrapped himself in the shadows; he was confident that his apprentice would do the same. The one who opened the door to the warehouse walked in. By his armour, DoK'Jossiem reckoned that the man walking in was a Thalmor officer; a captain by the look of it.
Kalaman entered the dark warehouse. Seeing his two subordinates, he felt his anger rise. Kalaman was a veteran of the Oblivion crisis. He had dedicated his entire life, all six and a half centuries, to perfecting the art of sword wielding. And to see two of his soldiers give their pay away in a game of luck and disregarding their duties enraged him to no end.
"What in the name of the eight devins is going on here!" He demanded. The soldiers sprang to their feet, knocking over the table, spilling coin and dice as well as the candle. For a second, Kalaman thought he saw a shape in the shadows, but it quickly disappeared.
DoK'Jossiem drew in his breath when the candle fell. Revealing him for a split second as the light flared, changing the orientation of the dark. He relaxed when the movement of the shadows became regular once more.
"I said," Kalaman exclaimed once more, "what on Nirn is going on!" he demanded once more.
The soldiers stuttered and stammered, unable to find an excuse, "Sir, we were…" one of the soldiers started.
"Do not speak!" Kalaman shouted. "It is clear you do not take your duties seriously. It seems I will need to take disciplinary action. You two are on river patrol for two weeks!"
The two soldiers paled, DoK'Jossiem smiled. He knew of the punishment known as 'river patrol'. It involved patrolling the many rivers that ran through the south of Elsweyr. They were gathering grounds for many wild animals and at times could be as dangerous as the heart of black marsh. DoK'Jossiem frowned at the memory of the place. DoK'Jossiem stealthily readied throwing knives. It would not be long before the fallen sentries were found; he and his apprentice had to be out of here before then. DoK'Jossiem had no intention of being caught in a prolonged battle with Thalmor soldiers.
Unfortunately, it was not to be.
Just then, a runner entered the warehouse.
"Sir! Sir!" the runner called.
"What is it!" the Captain demanded.
"Two of the lookouts have been found dead. We believe there are intruders within the compound," the runner reported.
"Then what in Oblivion are you doing here? Raise the alarm!" The captain ordered.
"Yes Captain Kalaman," the runner saluted and ran off.
Kalaman, so that is the Captain's name, DoK'Jossiem thought. Out of nowhere the two soldiers who had been gambling fell, throwing knives protruding from their backs.
"What the?" Captain Kalaman wondered, confused and in shock.
DoK'Jossiem's mind was moving at the speed of light. A scene of what happened already played out in his mind. Ma'Shanji must have thrown throwing knives to kill the two soldiers, thinking that they were already caught. Which was untrue, it was entirely possible that they would have remained unseen. DoK'Jossiem pushed the thoughts from his head. It was too late to do anything now. He flew at the Thalmor captain, a sword appearing in DoK'Jossiem's hand seemingly out of nowhere. He aimed for the captain's left shoulder. Kalaman was barely able to block the blow in time. Stepping forward, DoK'Jossiem kneed him in the groin. The Altmer keeled over. Rolling away he dodged a downward stab by a millimeter.
Kalaman rolled away from his opponent. Standing quickly he regained his stance, he swallowed. Observing his opponent, he realized whom he was fighting.
A Khajiit? The revelation shocked him. From his opponents' skill, Kalaman thought he was fighting another Altmer, someone who would have had centuries of training. But what he saw before him was a member of the beast race, a mere mortal. Anger rose from within Kalaman. How dare a mortal challenge him! Kalaman charged.
DoK'Jossiem smiled as the captain rushed toward him. Bringing his own blade to bear, he engaged Kalaman. It was clear to DoK'Jossiem in what way the duel would end after the first few blows. The assassin was far superior to the Thalmor.
Counter-parrying DoK'Jossiem cut Kalaman's right bicep, slicing through the muscle. The captain flinched away as his right arm became limp.
"Damn you!" Kalaman cursed DoK'Jossiem. Feigning to Kalaman's left, DoK'Jossiem wacked Kalaman over the helmet. The Altmer was dazed for a few seconds and in that time DoK'Jossiem knocked Kalaman's sword away and kicked out his knee. He grabbed the Thalmor's helmet and slammed him into the ground with the strength of a full-grown Orc.
Kalaman's ears rang. His vision grew unclear and his thoughts became muddled.
DoK'Jossiem put his left knee on the Thalmor's chest and his right foot on the elf's left wrist. DoK'Jossiem risked a look over to his apprentice. During the fight, even though it had been only a minute or two, many more Thalmor and Khajiit guards had entered the warehouse. They had surrounded Ma'Shanji, and though he fought them off with great skill, DoK'Jossiem knew that sooner or later they would be overwhelmed. Though DoK'Jossiem wanted to interrogate Captain Kalaman, he had a duty to keep his apprentice alive and pass on his teachings. Settling for knocking Kalaman out, DoK'Jossiem struck the captain's helmet, denting it. Kalaman's brain had had enough and as his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he lost consciousness. Leaping away from Captain Kalaman, DoK'Jossiem flew to aid his student.
The guards, not expecting DoK'Jossiem to assault them, were taken back. Half a dozen fell to the ground before they could even identify their attacker. Wielding a dagger in his left hand DoK'Jossiem aided Ma'Shanji against the enemy.
"We need to fall back, ready yourself!" DoK'Jossiem told Ma'Shanji.
Without waiting for a reply DoK'Jossiem used a smoke bomb. DoK'Jossiem and Ma'Shanji leapt through the enemy guards, taking a second to ignite the moon sugar and skooma with a magical fireball cast from his hands. Holding their breath they escaped the smoke within seconds. Both knowing where to go to fall back, they immediately began to climb. They reached the canopy of the trees in half a minute. The two split up and began taking twisting routes to throw off any pressures.
The two assassins rejoined each other in the city's bureau. Surprisingly Ma'Shanji arrived first.
"Come in, quickly if you don't mind!" the rafiq urged DoK'Jossiem. The rafiq was a male Dagi Khajiit named Jok'Baadar. DoK'Jossiem entered through the bureau entrance.
"Come and sit, I have served you and your apprentice." Jok'Baadar said. DoK'Jossiem walked into the shaded meeting area and sat on one of the cushions. He nodded his thanks to Jok'Baadar when he was handed a drink of water. Like all assassin provisions it was pure and without moon sugar or skooma.
"Now tell me, what of your mission at the warehouse?" Jok'Baadar asked.
"We were able to enter the compound undetected. We reached the main warehouse and entered silently. We were about to incapacitate the two guards within the warehouse when their captain walked in. We hid and remained unseen, until the two sentries we killed were found. Ma'Shanji killed the two guards and I engaged the Thalmor Captain," DoK'Jossiem reported.
"Thalmor?" Jok'Baadar asked, "I thought Sweet Moon was run by Khajiit?"
"It is, but the Thalmor are eager to protect their profits," DoK'Jossiem told the rafiq.
"We were surrounded by Altmer and Khajiit guards. We escaped using a smoke bomb. I ignited the warehouse using a fireball, though it is possible they put out the flames. I plan to ensure that the warehouse burned down tomorrow night," DoK'Jossiem told the rafiq.
"There is no need," Jok'Baadar said, "I saw the flames and smoke from here, I doubt there is anything left."
"Maybe," DoK'Jossiem murmured.
"I suggest going to see RiK'Alumala. He will know what to do," the rafiq suggested.
"No, the master would not be please with me not ensuring that a mission is complete." DoK'Jossiem pressed.
"But we cannot act without the master's consent. It could compromise the brotherhood! Returning tomorrow night without proper information might get you caught and under torcher you might reveal information on the brotherhood!" JoK'Baadar said.
"Are you slandering my abilities and my dedication to the brotherhood?" DoK'Jossiem asked the rafiq dangerously. While the Khajiit as a people were generally laid back, growing up in the brotherhood had a way of instilling harsh, non-easy-going attributes in individuals. A tense quarter minute went by.
"If I may say something?" Ma'Shanji asked. JoK'Baadar nodded, as did DoK'Jossiem. "It would take about a day for us to gather the supplies for the travel north to Masyaf, in that time, you could send an Alfiq to investigate whether the warehouse was destroyed or not. If it turns out to still be intact, we'll return after a few nights, and ensure that the mission is complete, without capture," Ma'Shanji offered.
"There is still a risk of capture…"
"JoK'Baadar, there is always a risk of capture, as well as injury, death, eternal damnation and a slew of other consequences. But we are the assassin's, we do not shriek from a job just because it is dangerous. The moment we adorned our uniform we acknowledged that we would never die peacefully in our beds, but on the battlefield, our blood dribbling into the ground. But that is why we do the things we do, so others do not have to suffer as we do," DoK'Jossiem said interrupting the rafiq, "We are the assassin's, the guardians,"
"And we shall fight for the freedom of others," JoK'Baadar said, completing the often said oath of the assassin's. JoK'Baadar sighed. "Very well, I will inform one of my alfiq information gatherers and infiltrators and assign them to the mission."
DoK'Jossiem nodded, privately pleased at his apprentice's ability to calm down a potentially bad situation. While Jossiem outranked the Rafiq, getting on the bad side of the people who tell you the information on your targets isn't always the best idea if you want to be consistently successful or live a relatively long life.
Authors Notes 1: I am indeed aware that the Khajiit speak, and most likely, think in the third person, however I believe writing in such a way would confuse those readers not familiar with Khajiit culture. As such, these writings have been translated into first person when necessary.
Authors Notes 2: Why is it people who write Assassin's Creed fan-fiction always try to reference, refer to, base of off, or are only focusing on the newest instalment, there is something to be said for going back to your roots and originality which I believe is what I am doing here.
Authors Notes 3: What do you guys think; I am always looking for feedback.