This is my first fanfic so be gentle. I wrote this in a hurry and so I rushed things and may not have explained as much as I should have so if you have any questions just ask. Also, in my mind Tamriel and all it's provinces are a lot larger than depicted in the games. For instance, at least in my story, going from Solitude to Whiterun might take a week or so. Seeing how this will make a lot more space in these provinces, more specifically Skyrim, which will be where my story takes place, you may see locations that are not in the game because I made them up. Not to worry, these places will still be there. Anyway, I'll stop rambling and let you read.
Disclaimer: All locations and characters, except those which I have created, are owned by Bethesda.
Prologue
"Sateere, you must keep going. I don't think I can make it." The Khajiit fell to his knees. The arrow had struck him between his shoulder blades. The end for him was soon and he knew it.
"No! I won't leave you." The female Khajiit replied, tears beginning to well up in her eyes.
"I am badly wounded, Sateere. I would only slow you down."
"Please get up, I need you Do'biri." Sateere sank to her knees hugging a blanket with one arm and her husband with the other. "We need you."
"I'm so sorry my dear." Do'biri wrapped his arms around his wife. "Go now, I will hold them off as long as I can."
"No, please, I won't know where to go, what to do.."
"Head south to Elsweyr, we still have family there, distant yes, but family nonetheless." He coughed, drops of bloods falling to the ground.
In the distance they heard the shouts of mer. They would catch up soon.
"Sateere go. Go!" Do'biri was rising to his feet, pulling his wife up with him. He held her one last time. Nothing need be said, they would see each other again someday.
Sateere turned and ran as fast as she could, her feet gliding over the ground, arms crossed tightly across her chest clutching the bundle she held for dear life. Do'biri watched her for a few moments longer. Tears began to fall like rain from his cheeks, he knew they would catch her, he just hoped they made it a quick death.
Do'biri inhaled deeply, wiped away the blur of tears, and turned to face his death. And there they stood, five Altmer. Three wore black robes, the tallest of the three had golden leafing sewn into his robes. The remaining two elves wore armor as gold and bright as the sun. One had a bow drawn, the other was unsheathing a greatsword from his back.
The Khajiit eyed each elf, planning his attack. He was fast and may be able to take two or three down when healthy, but the arrow in his back was taking its toll on him. The elves in robes were wizards, he had seen elves just like them before when he went to market. The elf with golden laced robe was the leader he guessed. He wouldn't bother with the armored High Elves, his claws would be useless against them. His only hope was to take the leader first and hope that the shock of losing him would give his wife the time she needed to escape.
"Ready to face your punishment are we cat?" The leader said, a smirk on the already smug face of a High Elf.
"Again I will say, we have committed no crime, but if you wish me to beg for my life then you waste your time knife ears." The Khajiit grinned wickedly. " Maybe you Altmer should be more selective when choosing archers, I would have killed my target" Do'biri pointed to the arrow in his back.
He got the reaction he wanted. In one fluid motion the archer had drawn an arrow, nocked it, and pulled the bow string back to his cheek. The archer was angry.
"You die now cat!"
Do'biri moved like lightning. He ran forward slashing one of the wizard's throat with his claws. The archer loosed an arrow, but the Khajiit had seen that coming and was already spinning around the falling wizard letting the dead elf take the arrow. Do'biri turned to their leader ready to pounce, but an amored fist caught him in the head. He fell to ground, head spinning from the blow. The remaining elves rushed towards him and siezed him. They pulled him to his knees, the wizard and the archer stretching his arms to the side, their feet pressed on the back of his knees. This is it, I failed her.
"Any last words cat?" The leader asked approaching the defeated Khajiit.
The elf with the greatsword raised his weapon high above his head, the bright golden metal seemed to glow in the sun.
Do'biri said nothing but raised his head and let out a roar that shook the leaves on the trees.
"So be it." The leader nodded at the swordsman. The greatsword gained speed as it raced toward the Khajiit's neck. Almost as quickly as it began, the fight was over, Do'biri's head rolled onto the ground. Amidst the chaos the leader had forgotten about the dead Khajiit's wife.
"Quick, after the cat bitch!" He ordered, and they plowed into the forest after her.
Sateere couldn't run anymore, she fell to her knees sobbing. She had heard the last roar of her husband. It had given her hope, he had surely killed them. Then the order came for the chase to continue from the deep, smooth voice of the Altmer leader. She gently squeezed the bundle of cloth in her arms. I've failed him.
She heard shouting not far behind her. She turned around as an arrow flew past her face. She stood up in a panic and turned to run once more. Sateere took only a few steps before an arrow pierced the small of her back. She let out a scream as she fell to the ground, the bundle rolling out of her hands. The blanket unraveled reaveling a newbord cub, it's eyes still shut tight. The cub let out an awful cry as he rolled onto the hard ground. Sateere pulled herself across the ground, not able to move her legs anymore. He inch she moved was more pain than she could bare, but it was nothing compared to the pain she felt from not being able to protect her child. She reached out to her cub and put a finger in the palm of its hand. The cub clenched as tight as a newborn could.
She began to cry, tears pouring from her eyes. She looked up to see she was surrounded by her pursuers.
"You and your thieving husband gave quite a chase." The leader spoke, making his way towards Sateere. "Well look what we have here, a Khajiit cub. I must admit, its even uglier than a full grown one."
"No! You stay away from him, we've done no wrong to you." Shouted Sateere.
"No wrong?" the leader bent over, grabbed Sateere by her throat, and lifted her off the ground. "You and your husband are thieves, and for that you will be punished."
The cub began to cry, again. "Will one of you please shut that thing up!" the leader looked around at his soldiers, none of them moving. "Now!"
The remaining wizard walked over to the cub, curling his fingers and producing a small flame in his hands.
"P...please...d...don't hurt him. H..he's only a baby." Sateere managed to get out running out of breath as the High Elf squeezed tighter and tighter.
Malthor had heard the scream. It was a ways off but it had been loud enough to scare the elk he had been hunting. It also managed to startle his massive wolf dog, Lycan, named after the hounds of Hircine. Malthor looked at his large creature. He was part wolf, but he could not put a finger on what he was mixed with. No doubt some large furry dog of Skyrim, which was where he got the beast as a pup.
Malthor was a Nord. His long blonde, slightly gray, hair had two braids in the front on either side of his face, the rest of his hair cascading past his shoulders. He was tall for a Nord, standing at almost seven feet tall and thick with muscle. He was an intimidating sight, and when Lycan walked with him people tended to walk the other way.
"Lycan let's go." Malthor nodded in the direction of the scream. The giant dog followed, head down tail up.
They arrived upon the scene in a few minutes. Malthor grabbed Lycan by the scruff of his neck pulling him behind some bushes. He looked out to the small clearing where the Elves had the lady Khajiit surrounded. He watched as the, what appeared to be the leader, grabbed the Khajiit by her throat and lifted her in the air. He heard the cry then, and looked on the ground to see the cub, only a ball of fur. The leader said something Malthor couldn't hear but he knew what was about to happen. He saw what he figured was the wizard of the group, walk towards the cub, preparing a flame spell in his hand.
"Not today you don't." Malthor muttered to himself, reaching for the bow on his back. His bow was ebony, black as night, but it was inlaid with the ivory of a mammoth's tusk in strange swirls up and down the bow. He had leather wrapped tightly around the grip for added comfort. His bow was a little thicker than most, making it strong and able to easily pierce mail and plate.
Malthor reached for an arrow over his shoulder, quietly removing one from the quiver. He nocked it, and drew back to his cheek. He took aim at the wizard.
"Lycan, attack!" Without a second of hesitation Lycan burst from the bushes running full speed at the leader holding the Khajiit. Malthor loosed the arrow at the wizard, sending it through the elf's throat. He quickly dropped his bow and drew his steel sword from it's sheath and charged at the bowman now fumbling to get an arrow nocked. Malthor looked to Lycan who had the leader down, a firm bite on his arm. The Nord reached the bowman before he could pull the arrow back and shoved his sword through the chest of the Altmer. He pryed the sword from the dead elf and turned just in time to see the last armored elf side swinging his greatsword. Malthor jumped back, the blade missing him by inches. He ran forward as the elf brought the blade back around. Malthor met the blade with his own and forced to the ground. The elf rammed his shoulder in Malthor's chest forcing him back. He quickly recovered dodging the next swing of greatsword. The elf swung once more but he was ready for this attack. He spun backwards, the momentum of the greatsword forcing the elf to turn leaving him open for attack. Malthor leapt at this oppurtunity running in close, both hands on his sword and swung with all his might, removing the elf's head from his shoulders. He looked to Lycan who still had the elf down.
"Lycan." He snapped his fingers and the great beast came to his side.
The High Elve's robes were tattered. There were bite marks all over and blood was visible even in the black of the cloth. He managed to stand though, trying to regain some pride Malthor thought.
"Malthor? The Red Warrior?" the elf spoke.
Malthor raised his weapon slightly. "Who are you? How do you know me?"
"My name is Andrel, I was at the Battle of the Red Ring, same as you. You and a few other Nords wiped out nearly my entire unit. I managed to escape."
"So you're a Thalmor and a coward as well?"
Malthor notice the Altmer twitch with anger, but the elf kept calm, he knew he was outmatched.
"So you've been in the southern forests of Cyrodil the whole time?"
"Aye. Not much choice seeing as both the Thalmor and the Empire are after me."
"Oh yes, I forgot you were a deserter" the elf grinned.
"Maybe, but I wasn't about to bend the knee to an emperor who would submit to you elven bastards."
"Listen, if you let me go I can get you a pardon, you'll be free to head back to your homeland or even stay here if you want, just please let me go."
"I'm not about to let you go after what you did to this poor Khajiit. No matter what she's done, she doesn't deserve to be treated like an animal."
"Please, we were ordered to kill her and her husband, they stole something very valuable to the Thalmor." the elf was practically begging now.
"Did her or her husband have this item?"
"Well, now but-"
"I've heard enough then. Lycan. Kill." Malthor spoke with an unquenchable hate.
"No! Please!" The wolf dog jumped for the High Elf's throat. The elf began to scream but was cut short by the tearing of his neck. Lycan gave a low growl and bit down once more making sure his prey was dead.
Malthor sheathed his sword looking around at the carnage he and his giant beast had made. Remembering the Khajiit he ran to her, kneeling beside her. He looked at the arrow in her back. It will kill her soon.
"Please take care of my son." The Khajiit was gasping for air now. "I will die soon, please promise me you'll take care of him."
Malthor didn't know what he would do with a child, let alone a Khajiit cub, but he said what any man in his position would say. "I promise."
The Khajiit grabbed his hand, gave one last moan of pain, and then was gone. Malthor reached up to close her eyes. He would have to bury her, it was only right to give her that last courtesy.
The cub began to cry again. Malthor looked around for something to hold the baby in. He found a blanket and went to wrap the little Khajiit. He knelt down and picked him up. He wrapped the cub leaving only his face exposed. The baby Khajiit suddenly stopped crying as Malthor held it. He couldn't help but smile as he looked down at the newborn's face.
"It's okay little one, you're safe now."
I will try to update this chapter, after publishing I realized I had missed a lot of errors.
