Shrouded in mystery and the shadow of his cloak. Tiaane is guided by the hand of fate to every destination.
Fires of Destiny
The camp-fire crackled sharply in the moonlight night. The small hum of light In a night as black as this was all Tiaane needed to stir his pot of chicken stew. How fortunate he was to have found the camp not long since abandoned, and even more fortunate he was when a chicken came clucking by his campsite not a moment later. The hands of fate had truly smiled upon him tonight as he looked up towards the green lights that flew over Skyrim's skyline. Moving in a line, dancing majestically like the dragons of old... Well, not so old.
The rustling of nearby bushes In the night finally made him regain attention as he glanced at the pitch surroundings noticing movement from all sides. Clutching his staff, Tiaane readied a dagger under his sleeve... Just in case. The noises stopped, dead silence filled the air. Tiaane glanced back at his pot, bubbling against the fire.
"Smells good, a recipe of your own?" An unfamiliar voice called, as a tall bearded Nord man approached the camp. Smiling as he approached slowly Into the fire's filed of view, hands raised as a gesture of no trouble.
As Tiaane turned, more approached the camp from either side. A thin, grey maned Khajjit man to his left, clad in fur armor and jewelry. A Breton girl, thick breasted and sporting a forest green cloak to hide her features. Two similar looking Imperial men In front of him. Short black hair and clad In Imperial armor. He turned back towards the Nord, who had sat on a log to his right, centimeters away from him.
"Hope you don't mind the company. Lone travelers like you roads must get awfully lonely." The Ironclad Nord spoke, followed by speech from his companions.
"And dangerous, a lot of bandits these days on Skyrims roads." The Breton butted in, hands raised against the warmth of the fire.
"Vampires. Werewolves. Daedra. Dragons. Guess you can count Orc's In that" The two Imperial added, speaking a word each before laughing at their last line.
"Stop pestering the man! Mojar thinks we should dig In If our host allows it?" The Khajjit peered curiously, hands over the pot of stew.
Tiaane watched the group curiously, all eyes flashing glances upon him as well as they awaited a response. One eye on his knapsack and the other upon the group.
"The pot is big enough. I'd be greedy If fate forbids me to share it with fellow travelers." Tiaane smiled gesturing for the group to help themselves as he swirled the wooden spoon around for one last step, catching a whiff of the aroma. Strong he thought, as his eyes watered.
The Khajjit hands grasped the spoon, only to be batted away by the Breton beside him. "We are guests to this campfire. It is fair only to allow our kind host the first mouthful" The Breton responded, spinning the spoon around in the pot towards Tiaane.
"Thank you." He replied calmly, the spoon raised to his lips as he took a large gulp. The taste was different from his recipe, he could taste it. Putting the spoon back Into the pot. He lowered his hood. Golden scales flashing against the fire.
"Nightshade and Spiddal stick. Not a bad taste I might add, as an Argonian I quite appreciate the odd poison here and there. Please, you must share with me your recipe's some time." Tiaane smiled, glancing at the Khajjit who, along with his companions failed to realize either that he was an Argonian or that poison was near useless.
Standing up, The Nord grinned. Hand clutching his blade. He held Tiaanes knapsack as he gestured his companions. "Well, we tried to do this the easy way. Hand over the goods scaleback, and the creepy staff you got too. Do that and we might leave you in peace to your stew ay?" The Nord looked cocky and bold, Tiaane had these strangers pegged for Bandits the moment they arrived. He saw the Khajjit sprinkle the poison into his stew when his hands got near. Smart, but not smart enough.
Tiaane looked up towards him and his companions. All clutching to their weapons like a newborn babe. "Take the knapsack. The staff and my other belongings are mine friend. I will not hand them over." Tiaane said sternly. The knapsack was replaceable, and not worth killing for. But, his staff and personal items, that was all destiny had left him with.
"Making demands now Scaleback? Their's five of us and one of you. For that, I think we'll have your robes too." The grinning Nord cockily ordered, blade half unsheathed as he peered closer to Tiaane.
Tiaane sighed, raising his hood. He knew how this was about to end. "Destiny would have had you encounter me tonight. Your fate has already been sealed, from your birth to this point now. May you find peace In the next life." Tiaane responded calmly, knocking the Nord back with his staff as he darted up from his seat.
A dagger flew towards him, released from the hands of the Khajjit. Tiaane ducked just in time, extended his arm straight towards the Khajjit who readied a lunge attack. Blood spurted everywhere as the sheathed dagger In Tiaanes sleeve hit the Khajjit square in the throat. Chocking on his blood as he collapsed towards the floor.
The Breton fired an Ice spike from her palm, as the two Imperials leaped to flank Tiaane with their swords raised.
The ice shattered, almost bouncing off Tiaane's ward. The clung of steel was hard, as Tiaane blocked blows with his staff's hilt. Luckily, he had more than one trick up his sleeve. Pushing the Imperial attack in front of him away with a hilt strike to the head. Just as the other rushed behind him for a counter-flank. Tiaane waved a fury spell at him with his free hand as he backstepped out of the way.
The Imperial Tiaane pushed away barely had time to react as his own ally cut him down where he stood. "Oh god... Brother!" The other screamed as he snapped out of Tiaane's spell. A sharp swing of his staff, Tiaane plunged the dagger on the other end into his chest. A loud thud as he collapsed into the fire.
"WHY WONT YOU DIE!" The Nord screamed, slashing a cut against Tiaane's back as he scrambled to defend himself against the blows. Magical shield raised, to block each swing as it slowly cracked. The sparks flew In the dark mist of the night as the Greatsword connected with Tiaane's hilt, pushing down against the Argonian with all his might as his teeth clenched.
Thinking fast, Tiaane slid his staff sideways against the greatsword. Head of the staff inches from the Nords face. Flicking it forward the familiar hue of a green fireball exploded in the Nords face. Scream's of pain as the Iron from his helm melted into his forehead.
Turning back he noticed the Breton looting the corpse's of her dead companions, darting off Into the shadow's as Tiaane turned his head. Honor among thieves? Typical. Tiaane caught his breath, addressing the wounds and scratches before anything else. He had contemplated chasing after the Breton, but he realized fate may have let her live for a reason beyond his doing.
"Please...the...pain..." Called a weak voice crawling into view once more. It was that of the Nord's, his face a smoking mess. Scorched beyond belief from the Iron melting into his forehead. Tiaane eyed him up, before reaching for the wooden spoon in the now lukewarm pot of stew. The fires of the camp had almost dimmed completely.
"Smells good? It's an old family recipe." The Argonian said, raising the spoon towards the Nords singed lips and helping him swallow in one big gulp. The poison the Khajjit had put in their was still potent, fate wouldn't have it kill him, but the Nord would be dead In minutes.
"Destiny. You are a strange mistress." Tiaane ended, waving his hand to extinguish the fire. Walking away into the night.
Where may Destiny take him next? Is anyone's guess.