Author's Notes
Hello everyone. This is my first fanfic ever. I have played, and had the most fun, as an Argonian in the Elder Scroll games Morrowind, Oblivion, and Skyrim. These games are made by Betheseda Inc. and they hold the rights to everything about them, including the lore. I only claim these three characters, and their stories, as my creations. Recently while playing Skyrim, I would be going through a dungeon or cave and would think up of a neat story about how my three characters would get together and how they would go about exploring it. Sometimes I would sit in the middle of the dungeon for about an hour and daydream up a story. I never wrote any of it down until now because I was actively playing the game at the time. After typing out a few dungeon stories, I thought up of just how these three Argonians came together and an elaborate backstory unfolded, leading up to their antics and adventures in the land of Skyrim.
Additional notes:
-This story starts out roughly 10 years before the storyline in the Skyrim game, and then will be linear to the in-game story line once the trio gets to Skyrim.
-The main characters are initially known by the dominant color of their scales for the first few parts till they have their naming ceremony. This is my 'youngling name' for them, and they are not called this name by any of the others characters in the story.
-Both the black and green Argonian males were born in Argonia (aka Black Marsh) in a un-named village near the heart of the marsh. And because of that I would like to point out that they have digitigrade legs and feet that Argonians from the Morrowind game had. To me, this characteristic is cooler then the Oblivion/Skyrim normal model legs (in my opinion). And since the bronze female was born in Cyrodill, she has normal legs. All three will have facial characteristics from the Skyrim game's facial detail/coloring system. I know that the Argonians with Morrowind digitigrade legs had differant looking faces then the Skyrim ones, but this is my story. Also, Argonian females do not have breasts in this story. Sorry guys.
-Black and Green, hailing from Black Marsh, know how to speak both the Argonian language and the Common tongue. In the first few chapters they are in, when they are young, all speech is spoken in it (pretty much clicks, whistles, growls, body language, and even smells) and will not be in italics. When they get to Skyrim, they will be speaking mostly Common speech. When that time comes, all Argonian speech will be in bold to emphasize that they are speaking it, like when they say something private in front of others. Bronze does not know any of the native Argonian tongue, but the other two will, from time to time, teach her some of it.
-Not one of these three will be the Dragonborn when they get to Skyrim in this story. However, they will meet the Dragonborn from time to time, and it will be pretty entertaining I can assure you of that. They will arrive in Skyrim around the same time the Dragonborn does, though not in the same manner.
-When the story gets to Skyrim, I will be taking a lot of the descriptions of the towns, dungeons, and denizens from the game while adding in little tweaks of my own.
-The first few chapters will be rated T for some blood and violence, but this will change to an M rating after the first few chapters two due to language, violence, and adult scenes.
-As a final note, I would like to thank the people of Betheseda for thinking up my favorite video game species, the Argonians.
And now, the story. Enjoy.
Brothers of the Hist
Part I: Brothers in Crime
The black scaled youngling scampered up to the great marsh tree in search of the dragonfly he was after. After seeing this little bug's orange skin, he had to have it. His green scaled nest-mate following closely behind, intent on being the first to catch the sparkly bug.
"I see it!" said the green one.
"Don't let it go!" replied the black one.
They both raced up the huge trunk of the tree after the insect, ignoring the fact that they shouldn't be there.
"This bug is mine!" says the black hatchling.
"Not on your life!" says the green one.
Unbeknownst to the two younglings, the old seer from their village was watching the two with a knowing smile on his face. 'It was always nice to see children having an adventure,' he thought to himself. 'Most Argonians are taught to stay with and protect the Hist. But not these two. They like to explore too much. They will surely get into trouble.' He continues to watch their antics from the shadows of a moss laden swamp bush nearby.
"I think it went up there!" said the green one.
"I see it!" replied the black one.
They both clamber up to a wide branch a few yards off the ground, looking frantically to see which offshoot that the dragonfly had settled on. As they creep closer, the black youngling sees a glint of orange a little ways out on a slender branch coming off the main beam. He starts to slowly creep out on the thin limb, his green cohort close behind. The branch starts to groan with the weight of the two as they move farther out onto it. The two younglings proceed to inch down the branch towards the insect. Once he thought he was close enough, the black one leaps at the dragonfly and takes a swipe at it. The sudden movement causes the slender branch to sway back and forth violently, and they both let out suprised yelps and fall. The green scaled one manages to find a branch below and manages to grab a hold of it while the black scaled one crashes to the soft marshy ground. The dragonfly flies off out of sight.
"HA, you suck giant slug eggs!" said the green one to the black one, upside down and still clinging to the branch by his hands and feet, tail hanging down.
"Aww stuff it, I almost had it!" replied the black one, brushing himself off.
Adjusting his headress, the seer steps out of the shadows and leans on his plain wooden stave.
"What are you two up to, hmmmmm?" says the old seer, trying his best to act serious.
"Nothing!" says the two shocked hatchlings.
"Nothing? I guess that the Hist tree just needed a good climbing then?"
The two younglings exchange a quick glance. The green one let's go of the branch and drops to the ground.
"Do either of you know how important the Hist tree is to us?" the seer says, looking up at the giant tree that dwarfed the nearby foliage.
They both nodded furiously.
"It is the very center of our beings, the thing that makes us who we are. It is also the Hist that gives us our names, among other things," says the old one, his voice getting low. He bends down to eye level with the two, his simple kilt touching the ground. "How long till your naming ceremony, young ones?"
"Tomorrow!" they say together.
"Hmm, let's hope the Hist forgives you two before then for I don't think either of you want to be given names like Plays-With-Mud or Eats-Many-Slugs."
"It better not!" gasps the green scaled youngling, wringing his hands.
"OH? And what do you have to say regarding the Hist, eh? IT will call you whatever IT pleases."
The black youngling looks down at the his feet, picking at a string on his loin cloth, "We are sorry for climbing on the great tree, ser."
"If I were you, I'd get back to your nests as quickly as possible lest the Hist thinks up of any more bad names for you!"
The two hatchlings scamper off through the swamp trees.
"Those two... I wonder..." ponders the old Seer with a chuckle as he stands back up with the help of his stave. He reaches out slender hand and touches the smooth bark of the giant tree for a few moments, then glances up and nods.
"I see."
The two young males race back through the marsh along the path to their home. Dusk was beginning to settle quickly around them, made even darker by giant looming trees all around.
"Hey, wait up!" cries out Black Scale, who had begun to lag a little behind.
"You're winded already? Sheesh, you need to lay off the pond beetles!" chirps Green Scale, poking his friend in his somewhat chubby arm.
Black Scale breaks off a nearby rotting branch and throws it at Green Scale, who nimbly ducks it and grabs a handful of mud and chucks it back, his dark grey eyes wide in mock horror. It hits Black Scale right in the face. Black Scale growls, spitting mud out from between his teeth while whiping at his sky blue eyes.
Green Scale dances around him teasingly "Your names gonna be Mud-In-Face!"
Black Scale lunges after Green Scale and they grapple. Black Scale starts to slowly gain ground on his skinnier nest-mate when he slips on a patch of wet moss and, with a squeal, they both go down in a mud puddle off the side of the path. When they both manage to scrabble out of the stangant pool, they both look at each other covered in mud and reeds, and burst out laughing. A beast-like shriek way out in the marsh cuts the laughter short and they hurry along the winding path home picking reeds out of their clothes.
They both heave a sigh of relief when they saw a warm familiar light shining throught the trees. They slowed to a walk as they neared the small circle of huts built out of wood and mud bricks. In the middle of the tiny village a small bonfire lit up the darkness with a warm light. Two wooden poles were erected on each side of the fire with an iron rod tied up between the two. A line of fat catfish were impaled upon the rod from their gills and hung over the fire, the grease dripping from their tales into the fire with a delicious sizzle.
Multicolored adults hustled here and there. Blues, greens, reds, bronzes, and blacks, to name a few, were preparing food, spices, and drink for the coming meal, adding wood to the fire, or setting up logs and chairs to sit on. Everyone was contributing in some way. The larger males, clad in simple loin clothes, did most of the heavy lifting and carrying while the smaller females, clad in thin skirts or aprons and beaded jewelry, worked the tables of herbs and meats. Black Scale found his mother, Sta-Sansa near one such table, crushing herbs and minerals into a spice paste with a mortar and pestel clutched in her ebony hands. Green Scale's mother, Hie-Ingra was nearby, taking a dish and dipping a brush made of marsh grass into it. She then mounts the brush onto the end of a long wooden pole and then brushes the catfish hanging above the fire with the spices. The two younglings stomachs began to growl as the smell of cooking meat intensified with the added spices.
"Where have you two been?" asks Sta-Sansa in a questioning tone, taking note of the two younglings covered in mud.
"Exploring." says Black Scale inoccently.
"Exploring where exactly?" asks Hie-Ingra back from spicing up the catfish, looking at them both in the eye. She puts down the spice-pole and reaches an emerald hand to Green Scale and pulls him to her, attempting to wipe mud from his face with her apron.
"Oh, nowhere in particular, just chasing bugs." Says Green Scale, scratching dried mud off the small spiny nubs on the back of his head, looking up into his mothers face.
"You know, you two shouldn't have been out this late. You could have been eaten by any number of monsters roaming the darkness." says Hie-Ingra, trying to sound a bit spooky. She drops her hands giving up on wiping away all the mud and letting go of Green Scale.
"What kind of monsters?" asked Black Scale. His and Green Scales eyes widen in earnest.
"Not the kind that you should worry about" replies Sta-Sansa with a sidelong glance at Hie-Ingra. "Now you two hurry and go wash that mud off and see about helping your fathers set up for the night-meal"
"Awwww..." they both moan in unison.
"We wanna hear more about the monsters!" says Black Scale in an excited voice.
"Nope, now go!" says Hie-Ingra, raising her voice.
The two hurry off, but are soon distracted by a group of their fellow younglings running by squealing with laughter. They take off with the pack into the shadows of the huts.
"You know not to mention monsters around those two, it only makes them want to hear more." says Sta-Sansa to Hie-Ingra as they watch the two run off.
"Or caves, or magic, or wars, or anything dangerous for that matter." quips Hie-Ingra with a smile.
"Lets just hope they don't hear anything about whats been happening to the fish traps as of late, because you know what will happen." says Sta-Sansa with a motherly sigh.