The Shadowdancer Chronicles
Chapter One
Sewer Rat
There are many with humble beginnings, others with more affluent origins; even some who at first glance seem as trivial as a rat in a sewer.
The Waterfront; a cesspool of debauchery, drunken sailors, cutthroat pirates, whores and brothels. Not the worst place, if you ask me. If things were perfect, I would've stayed. But life does not always fall as the dice do. I took up the name Antonie when I was very young, it was the name of a gladiator from the Imperial Arena. I used to polish their armor for a few septims. Life was simple back then, I used to sleep in the drains at night and walk the streets during the day. Stealing, picking pockets, and hunting rats; that's the life of a street orphan. That's me, Antonie Vitaro.
I've been living in High Rock for three years. My arrival in the province was less than welcoming. It was around midday, with the sun hidden by the clouds. I was forced to leave Dragonstar on a less than hospitable note; a local crime boss by the name Alonzo Iragola maintained the belief that while employing my services, I was taking more than my share. I would have left much earlier if it were not for his lovely daughter, Ashanta. After hitting my last mark of the day, as well as Ashanta, I was called upon by Alonzo. Making his intentions clear, he lunged at me with his blade drawn. I, drinking a tankard of ale at the time, proceeded to dodge his blow and counter with a tankard to the head. As he lay on the ground, stunned, I leapt from the window and made my way to the border of High Rock. Traveling the road from Dragonstar to Wayrest, I came upon a valley. Bordered by the Wrothgarian Mountains to the west and dense woodlands to the east, the road stretched down the center, bisecting the brush. Thick vegetation made it difficult to see anything beyond the road. As I made my way, I encountered a group of bandits. The group comprised of two Orcs and a Breton, as was usually the case in High Rock. Without changing course, I continued towards the armored men.
"Halt. Give us your wares, Imperial, if you wish to keep your life."
"So, this is the group of bandits they warned me about. The local inn informed me of your presence."
"Our reputation precedes us and it should. Give us your gold."
"First you said you wanted my wares, now you just want my gold. Would you like me to strip naked and hand you my purse or we could keep talking?"
"The gold…and your sword. Give us your sword."
"Are you sure, because I can still get naked if you like?"
"No. Just give us your gold and your sword!"
"Because if you do, I would suggest your archer friends on the hill to come in closer for the show."
"Archers? What archers do you speak of? There are three men before you. Are you mad?"
"Possibly. One might consider wearing a red tunic while trying to blend into the brush, the work of a madman but you are entitled to your own opinion."
The bandit turning his head around to view his fellow comrades perched upon the hill. Upon turning his head around, he is greeted by Antonie smiling.
"His tunic's not red."
"No, but you did give away their position."
Staring blankly at Antonie, the bandit was taken aback by his skill in subterfuge.
"It matters not if you know their location."
The Orc interrupted as he stepped forward, standing face to face with Antonie.
"Their arrows are trained on your head."
Gazing at the Orc, Antonie took a deep breath. Inhaling through his nose.
"Breton wine. I'm going to be honest, I would never expect an orc to have such fine taste. It just so happens, that I do in fact have a fresh bottle in my pack. I would be more than happy to share a tankard with a fellow connoisseur; if you would but let me retrieve it."
Antonie crouched down, opened his pack and removed the bottle as well as a pair of clay tankards. As he began to ascend, the Orc tighten his grip on the mace he was brandishing.
"You offer us nothing, we will take what we wish."
"Well if you try to snatch the bottle, I might get nervous and drop it. Then none of us can be happy."
"Then I will crush your skull."
"Was that not your original intent, to kill me and loot my body?"
"No. It was to leave you without two septims to rub together. Now we're going to break your legs and leave you for the wolves."
"So your original intent was to make easy money… Then we have something in common my friend. I have on offer for your leader, which will make all of us some easy money. And before you interrupt me again I but pose a question. How long do expect to pilfer this road before the Empire comes down on you?"
No sooner does Antonie mention the Empire, a squad of soldiers appear out of the woods from the east. Given that the soldiers were a considerable distance from them, Antonie and the men scattered up the hill. Staying close to the Breton, he began to whisper.
"Tell your bowman to provide a distraction; we can take the path out of the valley."
"Our camp is up that way."
"I figured as much."
"How?"
"It's what I would've done."
The Breton gave the signal; the archers began raining arrows down on the soldiers, forcing them to scatter. In the confusion, the men retreated up the mountain pass towards their camp.